05
I discovered my talent for household management when I was only nine. My stepmother was struggling to listen to the steward report on the household’s affairs, while I sat beside her practicing my calligraphy. After overhearing just a few sentences, I was able to point out the problems, much to her astonishment.
I don’t dislike managing things. In this world, what matters is being able to hold on to what you have.
After four months as a bride, I had established myself in the Duke’s household.
I treated my parents-in-law with the utmost respect, personally visiting the Grand Princess’s residence every other day to pay my respects and attend to her.
I observed the proper respect due from a younger relative toward my aunts, but if they deliberately made things difficult for me, I didn’t back down. After all, the heir would be the one to run the Duke’s household in the future.
With my husband, I behaved as a virtuous wife should: considerate and attentive, always discussing matters with him, and never giving in to jealousy. When the occasion called for it, I even indulged in a little boudoir intimacy, trimming his candlewick or painting his brows.
I was generous and tolerant toward the concubines. I not only summoned the imperial physician to treat Li Quynh Hoa, but also elevated Thanh Chi, the heir’s bedchamber maid, to the rank of concubine.
I ruled the servants with both kindness and authority. Those who could see which way the wind was blowing and pledged themselves to me early were naturally rewarded with important positions. As for those who abused their seniority to act out of line, I punished them to make it clear that I was now mistress of the Duke’s household. Sorting the loyal from the treacherous could wait until later.
I planned to gradually replace the stewards of the second and third branches over the next two years.
During this time, both the Grand Princess and the heir were very pleased with me.
If you asked how I had managed it, the answer was just two words: “detachment.”
To me, the Grand Princess was a superior to be treated with due seriousness. The servants were merely pawns that helped me manage the Duke’s household.
As for the concubines, although Li Quynh Hoa was favored by the heir, she posed no real concern. Thanh Chi was loyal and capable, and she was one of the household’s longtime servants. By raising her to concubine and making her indebted to me, I could keep her at my side to help with the household’s petty affairs.
I felt no affection whatsoever for the heir, only the bond of husband and wife. That was why I could be generous and composed.
I once loved someone very, very much. Only after I could no longer see him did I understand the meaning of “desirelessness brings inner strength.”
06
The heir stayed in my chambers ten days each month. For the other twenty, he stayed either at Li Quynh Hoa’s Lianzhou Hall or in Thanh Chi’s room. I never interfered.
That day, while he was staying at Li Quynh Hoa’s Lianzhou Hall, I couldn’t find my string of prayer beads before bed. I searched the dressing table for a long time, only to discover they had been tucked inside the account ledger.
I placed the beads beneath my pillow, and it felt as if my heart, which had been hanging in suspense, had finally settled back where it belonged.
As Lìng Fāng, my maid, helped me prepare for bed, she asked, “Does Madam still need to keep these beads beside her to sleep?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
No one knew that they had been a gift from Hui Ming, the foremost disciple of the current Imperial Preceptor.
Until I turned fourteen, I spent half a month each year at Lingren Temple, praying for the soul of my late mother. It was there that I met Hui Ming.
I was a little girl, chasing after little Hui Ming and asking him to tell me stories from the scriptures. He often hadn’t finished before my head began to nod, and I would fall asleep against his shoulder.
This string of beads was a birthday gift from him.
After I turned fourteen, he stopped seeing me. Then, without even saying goodbye, he set off to travel the four corners of the land.
Whenever I tried to see him, his master would come out to meet me. Each time, he offered only these words: “All conditioned things are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows; like dew and lightning. Contemplate them thus”—using them to try to persuade me.
So I understood that in the end, we were not meant to walk the same path.
I was able to marry the heir thanks in part to the Imperial Preceptor. The Grand Princess took my birth details to him for a reading, and he said, “This woman’s birth chart foretells nobility; she can bring peace to a household.”
Thanks to that, I was able to marry into the Duke’s household without a hitch.
Perhaps the first autumn winds tonight had made the heart feel colder. I suddenly found myself remembering the past. There was no point dwelling on it, so I said to Lìng Fāng, “Let’s sleep.”
07
Six months after I entered the Duke’s household, the Grand Princess began asking about children. Whenever she sent me a gift, she made sure to include a prescription to help me conceive.
After all, in this era, children were needed to inherit the family estate—even a concubine’s child would do. If neither the principal wife nor the concubines had children, they could only watch helplessly as their husband’s relatives seized his property after his death. Sensible people who remained childless for a long time would start thinking about adopting an heir.
If that was true even of wealthy official families, how much more so for a ducal household with an inheritable title.
It was the same among ordinary people. If a man had no children, his countless relatives would already be scheming to seize his property before his body was even in the coffin.
The whole household watched my belly and Li Quynh Hoa’s. Some hoped to hear good news soon, while others wished that neither of us would ever have any luck.
Fortunately, my baby was wonderfully considerate. In the bitter cold of winter, as heavy snow blanketed the entire capital, the imperial physician brought me the happy news.
The news was reported to the Grand Princess’s residence at once. She and her husband were overjoyed and hurried back to the Duke’s household to visit me. They brought all sorts of medicinal herbs and bolts of cloth, and she told me that I no longer needed to come to pay my respects; protecting the baby in my womb and taking care of my health were what mattered most.
In the warm inner chambers, the Grand Princess held my hand and questioned the imperial physician in detail. Once she learned that everything was well, she asked, “Have you sent word to Yan’er in the palace?”
I replied, “Of course I’ve sent someone to deliver the news. It’s just that my husband is in the palace, so I’m afraid he can’t come back right away.”
Huo Yan held the third-rank post of palace guard, working in the palace on a schedule of twelve days on and twelve days off. These guard positions were mostly filled by the children of noble families.
He was the Emperor’s maternal grandson, so he didn’t need to patrol in person; he only had to oversee the defenses. He would never have to go to the frontier like his father.
The Grand Princess smiled, the eyes she carefully maintained narrowing slightly, untouched by the years. “This is the first time Yan’er is going to be a father. Let him get a little excited.”
Sure enough, when Huo Yan returned, he was so happy he could hardly contain himself. He hugged me without daring to squeeze too tightly, grinned foolishly for a while, then suddenly said, “We have to start thinking of names.”
I pretended to be annoyed. “You must be so happy you’ve lost your senses, husband. They say pregnancy lasts ten months, and I’m only in my first month. Even families who like to choose names early wouldn’t do it this soon.”
Though there was no deep affection between us, if time could grow into familial love, then that would still be a peaceful life.
08
When I was four months pregnant, the Grand Princess sent a female palace official and two wet nurses to the Duke’s household. The official helped shoulder my duties, while the wet nurses took care of my health.
I happily enjoyed the leisure, spending my days taking walks and resting, with nothing to worry about.
For the first two months, Huo Yan acted like a good husband, staying in my courtyard for twenty days each month. I used the discomfort of pregnancy as an excuse to turn down his advances, and he didn’t say anything.
But in the end, he couldn’t bear the loneliness. By the third month, he had started spending the night in the rooms of his other three concubines.
That’s right. Because I was pregnant, my mother-in-law bestowed another concubine on him, a beautiful young woman named Lăng Nương.
With the newcomer in the household, Huo Yan couldn’t help favoring her. I naturally had no objection, and Thanh Chi, who was honest by nature, didn’t say anything either.
But Li Quynh Hoa was different. Huo Yan had always doted on her, and now that the newcomer had claimed all his favor, how could she stand it? She came to my courtyard several times to cry and complain, saying Lăng Nương was arrogant and bullied the others. For instance, when they were having new clothes made that spring, Lăng Nương had chosen the fabric before her.
Her fussing gave me a headache, so I could only soothe her with a few words: “The newcomer’s just here to give him something new,” and, “The heir still cares most about you.”
Only after I’d comforted her did she leave happily.
When Huo Yan returned, I told him not to focus only on the newcomer, but to show some consideration for the older favorites too. I meant that he should balance his affections, so the concubines wouldn’t get jealous and cry; soothing them took a lot of effort.
Unexpectedly, Huo Yan thought I was blaming him for neglecting me during my pregnancy. He felt guilty, and was even a little pleased that his wife and concubines were competing for his favor.
I had no choice but to keep up the act and subtly remind Li Quynh Hoa that she shouldn’t just cry—she needed to think of a way to deal with it.
Li Quynh Hoa schemed all day. In the end, she drank wine and composed poems beneath the flowers, reminding Huo Yan of the first time he’d met her at Changxin Palace, when she’d helped brush petals off him. His heart softened, and his old feelings suddenly flared back to life.
White lotuses and peach-pink blossoms competed in full bloom in the rear courtyard. Huo Yan was busy balancing his old and new affections, which gave me a remarkably peaceful pregnancy for a while.