"Wanwan? Wanwan? Are you awake?"
A very soft knock came from outside the door, accompanied by a voice as gentle as a spring stream, cautiously testing for a response.
Cui Wan jolted awake from her muddled dreams, her heart pounding from the fright. How long had she slept? She had cried for so long last night, exhausted and weary, that she had fallen deeply asleep without knowing when, never even noticing the bright daylight outside her window.
Had she... overslept today? On her first day as a bride, she was supposed to pay her respects to her mother-in-law!
Wait... that voice...
Cui Wan froze for a moment, then recognized who was outside. It was her sister-in-law! The sister-in-law who had held her hand yesterday, comforting and guiding her!
An indescribable ache rushed to her nose, mingled with the hurt and helplessness that had built up last night. Cui Wan could think of nothing else. She immediately scrambled out of bed, without even stopping to put on the embroidered shoes beside it, and stumbled barefoot to the door, eagerly pulling it open.
The woman standing outside was indeed Tang Xiang.
The faint morning light softly outlined her tall, slender figure. She wore an elegant pale mauve dress beneath a plain gauze outer robe. Her cloudlike black hair was gathered with only a simple jade hairpin, a few loose strands falling gently beside her cheeks. She was extraordinarily beautiful, with a dignified, gracious beauty, radiant without being overwhelming. Her features were gentle, her bearing serene, like an immortal maiden stepping out of a painting. Now she was looking down at Cui Wan with concern and a trace of barely perceptible worry.
Cui Wan gazed up at her blankly, forgetting for a moment both how to speak and how disheveled she looked.
The instant Tang Xiang's gaze fell on Cui Wan, however, her brows drew together slightly.
The young girl before her had hair tousled from sleep, and her almond-shaped eyes were swollen red as peaches; clearly, she had cried bitterly last night. Dressed in nothing but thin white underclothes, she stood barefoot on the floor, her small frame looking all the more frail and pitiful in the morning breeze. And her face, though delicate in its features, still plainly bore a childish innocence. How did she look anything like a married bride?
Tang Xiang sighed inwardly, a complicated surge of tenderness and guilt rising within her. She immediately stepped forward, gently took Cui Wan's icy wrist, and drew her inside, closing the door behind them to shut out any possible prying eyes.
"Silly Wanwan," Tang Xiang chided with natural affection, leading Cui Wan back to the bed and draping the outer garment from the stand over her shoulders. "It wouldn't hurt me to wait a little longer. Look at you, running down in thin underclothes without even putting your shoes on. The floor is so cold. What would we do if you caught a chill?"
As she spoke, she crouched down, picked up the embroidered shoes from the floor, and motioned for Cui Wan to put them on.
Cui Wan put on her embroidered shoes, listening to Tang Xiang's gentle, reproachful concern. Her nose stung, and tears almost fell again. Apart from her mother and Aunt Yue, it had been so very, very long... since anyone had cared for her so attentively.
Seeing her bowed head and slightly trembling shoulders, Tang Xiang thought her earlier tone had been too stern and frightened her. She hurriedly softened her voice, took out her silk handkerchief, and gently wiped the tears spilling from the corners of Cui Wan's eyes, coaxing softly, "There, there, don't cry. It was my fault. I shouldn't have scolded you. Our Wanwan is such a sensible girl, isn't she?"
Cui Wan sniffed hard, trying to hold back her tears, but this sudden warmth only made the ache inside her deepen.
Watching her struggle to hold back her tears, Tang Xiang understood. She recalled Chu Moqi's dark expression last night, the faint sounds that had later come from the bridal chamber, and the servants' trembling reports this morning... She hesitated, but still asked cautiously, lowering her voice further, tentative and apologetic:
"Wanwan, tell me... did A-Qi... bully you last night?"
Cui Wan's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. She bit her lip as Chu Moqi's icy gaze, rough movements, scornful words, and the tremendous crash of the door slamming behind him flashed through her mind... Instinctively, she nodded, but then, as though remembering something, she abruptly shook her head.
She had nodded because Chu Moqi really had treated her roughly, hurt her chin with his grip, shoved her away hard, and threatened her with such a terrifying look and tone.
She had shaken her head because... she did not want to tell on him, did not want to put her gentle sister-in-law in a difficult position, and did not want... Chu Moqi, who already disliked her, to detest her even more.
Tang Xiang caught every one of Cui Wan's tiny reactions and sighed heavily again inwardly. Cui Wan did not need to say anything more; the answer could not have been clearer. That boy, A-Qi... had, in the end, vented all his resentment and pain on this innocent, vulnerable girl.
She took Cui Wan's hand, her fingertips warm, her voice filled with deep apology and helplessness. "Wanwan, let me apologize to you on A-Qi's behalf... You've been wronged." She paused, her voice growing gentler, almost pleading. "A-Qi... he's suffering terribly inside right now. There are many hurdles he can't get past. Wanwan, could you give him a little more time?"
Tang Xiang gently stroked her hair, as though making a promise, or offering comfort. "If he bullies you again and makes you suffer, come and tell me. I... I'll scold him for you, all right?"
Although she knew these words would probably do little, they could at least offer this frightened, uneasy girl some support and hope. Looking into Tang Xiang's sincere, gentle eyes, Cui Wan finally nodded softly.
"All right."
When Cui Wan finally nodded her agreement, a faint smile of relief appeared on Tang Xiang's face. She patted the back of Cui Wan's hand gently before turning toward the door and calling softly, "Come in."
The door was gently pushed open in response. A delicate-looking young maid of about fifteen or sixteen, wearing a pale green sleeveless vest and her hair in twin buns, entered with lowered eyes and a meek expression. She respectfully curtsied to Tang Xiang and Cui Wan. "First Madam, Second Madam."
Tang Xiang took Cui Wan's hand and introduced her. "Wanwan, this is Qiaoju. Mother knew you had no dowry maid with you, so she specially assigned Qiaoju, one of her capable personal maids, to serve you. From now on, Qiaoju will look after your daily needs and meals, as well as all matters in your courtyard, large and small. She was born into the household's service and is sensible and knows the rules. Whatever you need, just tell her."
Hearing this, Cui Wan instinctively pressed her lips together. Following her habit from the Cui Family, she lowered her head slightly and timidly called, "Sister Qiaoju."
This address startled not only Qiaoju but even Tang Xiang. Qiaoju hurriedly glanced up at Tang Xiang, then quickly lowered her head again, saying repeatedly, "Second Madam, you honor this servant far too much! This servant would never dare accept such an address!"
Tang Xiang recovered, her smile deepening with a measure of helpless affection. She gently put an arm around Cui Wan's shoulders and said softly, "Silly Wanwan, you are now the Second Madam of the Marquis of Ningyang's Residence. You are a mistress of this household. Qiaoju and the others are servants here to attend you. From now on, you needn't be so courteous or return their greetings, understand? If you need anything, simply give your orders."
Only then did Cui Wan understand. Her face warmed slightly, and she nodded. She truly still had only a hazy understanding of the rules of rank within these grand, secluded households.
Tang Xiang motioned for Qiaoju to help Cui Wan dress and arrange her hair, then sat on an embroidered stool nearby. Watching Cui Wan's youthful profile in the mirror, its fresh beauty impossible to conceal, she hesitated a moment before speaking slowly, with a trace of apology:
"Wanwan, there is something else I must apologize to you for."
Cui Wan looked at Tang Xiang in the mirror, her eyes questioning.
An exceedingly faint smile, tinged with bitterness, appeared on Tang Xiang's lips. Her voice was gentle but clear. "By rights, I... should not have gone to escort you here yesterday."
She paused, as though she needed a little courage to continue. "I am a widow. According to folk customs, I am an inauspicious person and should keep away from such joyous occasions. But... A-Qi was still in a temper then and refused to appear. Mother is an elder, so naturally she could hardly go herself to escort you into the household. I thought that if the marquis's household did not send even a proper master or mistress, it would seem far too dismissive and disrespectful toward this marriage, toward you... So I took it upon myself to go."
She looked at Cui Wan, her eyes full of sincere apology. "I hope you... won't blame me for overstepping, or feel that it was... unlucky."
A widow...
Those words were like a tiny needle, piercing Cui Wan's heart without warning. The street gossip she had heard last night instantly echoed through her mind-"The Marquis of Ningyang and Eldest Young Master Chu both died in battle!"
Yes... her sister-in-law's husband, Eldest Young Master Chu, was already gone. That promising young man, who had been called a "match made by heaven and earth" with her sister-in-law, was gone.
No wonder her sister-in-law always carried a lingering, quiet sorrow. No matter how gently she smiled, an unmelting loneliness seemed hidden in the depths of her eyes. She was so good; she should have spent a happy, fulfilling lifetime with Eldest Young Master Chu, raising the tray to her brows in mutual respect...
A powerful wave of sympathy and indescribable sorrow rose in Cui Wan's heart, even briefly overwhelming her own fear and unease. Afraid Tang Xiang would notice something amiss, she hurriedly lowered her lashes to conceal the emotions in her eyes. Her voice was a little tight, but she strove to keep it steady:
"Please don't say that, Sister-in-law. I... I should be thanking you." She raised her eyes to Tang Xiang's reflection in the mirror and said sincerely, "If you hadn't held my hand yesterday, I... wouldn't have known what to do. It was my good fortune that you were willing to come."
Watching Cui Wan's sincere, slightly clumsy attempt to comfort her, Tang Xiang felt a little warmth in her heart, and that faint bitterness seemed to ease somewhat. She smiled and said no more, merely signaling Qiaoju to work a little faster.
With practiced hands, Qiaoju combed Cui Wan's long hair and arranged it in a dignified style suitable for a new bride. She also helped her change into clothes prepared by the marquis's household, their fabric clearly far finer than those brought from the Cui Family.
The girl in the mirror shed the dishevelment and childishness of the previous night, gradually revealing some of her fresh beauty. Only her eyes, still red and swollen, continued to betray her inner unease.
Once Cui Wan was ready, Tang Xiang stood and carefully looked her over again. She smoothed a stray lock beside her temple and said warmly, "There, our Wanwan is so pretty. Come, it's time to pay our respects and serve tea to Mother."
Tang Xiang led Cui Wan slowly along the winding covered corridors toward the main courtyard. The morning air already carried a chill, inexplicably suffused with a lingering stillness, even... desolation.
Cui Wan secretly studied Tang Xiang beside her. In the morning light, her sister-in-law's profile remained beautiful and serene, but deep within those eyes that always held a gentle smile, there seemed to be a faint, lingering loneliness. Especially when she had mentioned being a "widow" earlier, that flash of pain, though fleeting, had not escaped Cui Wan's eyes.
Noticing Cui Wan's gaze, Tang Xiang gathered her thoughts, turned to her, and said gently, "Wanwan, after you serve Mother tea... she'll be leaving the residence."
Cui Wan looked up in surprise, her eyes full of confusion. "Leaving? Where is Mother going?"
Tang Xiang did not stop walking, but her gaze drifted toward the rather empty courtyard beyond the corridor. Her voice grew very soft, as though she were recounting a fact long since settled, yet still cause for sorrow.
Ever since the devastating battle at South Mountain three years ago, the Marquis of Ningyang's Residence had undergone a world-shattering upheaval. Chu Rong and Chu Molei had both died on the battlefield. When the news arrived, Wei Shuyun's sky had collapsed. The once-glorious residence had seen its gates deserted overnight, left with only Chu Moqi, who had returned from the battlefield with barely half his life, both legs utterly crippled, and his temperament drastically changed.
Unable to bear the pain of losing her husband and son, Wei Shuyun had spent her days in dread, washing her face with tears. Seeing her once high-spirited younger son now dispirited and despondent, confined to a wheelchair, had twisted her heart like a knife. She ached for what her son had suffered and despaired at the household's future decline. She had placed all her hopes in Chu Moqi marrying and having children as soon as possible, continuing the family's incense and restoring its standing.
Yet Chu Moqi had shut himself away completely, resisting everything, especially this marriage intended to "carry on the family line." Mother and son had quarreled countless times over it, their relationship sinking to the freezing point. Wei Shuyun felt that her son had abandoned himself to despair and refused to shoulder his responsibility to the family; Chu Moqi believed his mother was no different from everyone else, merely despising him for being a cripple and eager to use him to "produce" a healthy heir, preserving the title and their so-called dignity.
Finally, after a heated argument, the physically and emotionally exhausted Wei Shuyun had told her son that as long as he agreed to marry, she would leave the residence and go to Eternal Compassion Nunnery in the mountains to practice spiritual cultivation without shaving her head. She would pray for the departed souls of the Chu Family, and for Chu Moqi as well. From then on, she would never return, never pressure him again, and never see him again.
This was both a compromise and an escape. Perhaps she, too, feared that facing her crippled son every day would continually remind her of the heart-piercing agony of losing her husband and eldest son.
Chu Moqi had remained silent for a long time before finally nodding.
With the calm of someone who had weathered life's vicissitudes, Tang Xiang slowly recounted the household's deepest pain and helplessness. "Perhaps... this is a kind of release for both of them. Staying in this vast, cold, empty residence, facing each other, there is nothing left but pain and mutual torment." She sighed softly, her gaze distant. "Wanwan, you must understand that no one in this household has it easy."
Cui Wan listened with a heavy heart. In her memories from the year she was ten, the Marquis of Ningyang's Residence had been so illustrious and dazzling. She could still picture the magnificent sight of empty alleys as everyone poured into the streets to welcome the Chu Family Army's victorious return.
She could never have imagined that in just a few short years, that radiant family would already be so riddled with wounds and shattered within. Behind its boundless glory were heroic souls fallen on the battlefield, widows who had lost their dearest loved ones, a crippled young general trapped with broken wings, and... a mother forced to go far away for spiritual cultivation.
It turned out that what she had married into was no comfortable haven of splendor and wealth, but a place just as covered in scars, swaying in the wind and rain.
Tang Xiang quickly composed herself and turned to smile at Cui Wan, her smile carrying reassurance and a little hope. "So, Wanwan, after you serve Mother tea, let's see her off together, all right? Once she leaves, who knows when she'll be able to return?"
Cui Wan hurriedly nodded. After agreeing, she suddenly remembered something else. She hesitated, then asked timidly, with some caution, "Then... Second Young Master Chu... will he, will he see her off too?"
Tang Xiang was taken aback at first, then could not help laughing, the smile easing some of the earlier heaviness. She lightly tapped Cui Wan's forehead, her tone affectionately teasing. "'Second Young Master Chu'? Wanwan, you're already husband and wife. Why are you still addressing him so formally? You can call him 'A-Qi,' or... simply 'husband.'"
Cui Wan's cheeks flushed faintly. She bit her lower lip, her voice growing even quieter, carrying a little hurt and lingering fear. "He... he won't let me call him husband."
The smile faded from Tang Xiang's face, turning into a soft sigh. She put an arm around Cui Wan's shoulders and comforted her gently. "That's just A-Qi being difficult. Later... once he gradually comes around, he'll allow it."
She paused and looked toward the main courtyard, uncertainty in her eyes. "As for seeing her off... I don't know whether A-Qi will go either. With his temper as it is now, perhaps... he won't."
Hearing this, Cui Wan felt an inexplicable wave of disappointment. Even when Mother was leaving, was he unwilling to show his face and see her off?
This disappointment came somewhat inexplicably; even Cui Wan herself could not say why. She was clearly so afraid of Chu Moqi as he was now, afraid of his icy gaze and violent temper. Yet when she thought that he might be unwilling even to see his mother one last time, a faint ache stirred deep in her heart, along with a little... concern she could neither explain nor name.