Chapter 26: A Startled Spirit

The two returned to the garden, exchanged a glance, and both couldn’t help but laugh.

Huailou had broken a light sweat; she called for water to wash her hands, and though she gave her instructions without a trace of fatigue, the stray hairs at her ears had come loose, no longer lying as neatly as when they had set out.

Huailou took the books Jiang Man was carrying and had a servant girl deliver them to the South Courtyard, then drew out a handkerchief and dabbed carefully at her forehead. “Lady Jiang, why not dine with me today? Back at the South Courtyard, food may not have been prepared for you. Better to sit a while in the Water Room first, and once the meal is ready, after we’ve eaten, we’ll return to the study for duty.”

Jiang Man, worn out from the long walk and unable to speak, slowly caught her breath. She did not decline, only curtsied. “Since you are so kind, Miss, I dare not refuse.”

In the days ahead she would be apprenticed under Huailou; strictly speaking, the woman before her counted as half a teacher.

Huailou nodded and asked the page, “Is the Steward in?”

“Steward Dong is terribly busy today—he likely can’t get away. Miss Huailou had better wait.”

Huailou considered briefly, then said only, “It isn’t urgent, but since the Female Scribe entrusted it, better done sooner than later. Run an errand for me—tell him that Miss Jiang and I have been in the study all day, and if the Steward finds a free moment, ask him to come by.”

With that, she led the way toward the Water Room. “Steward Dong manages matters inside and out, and is greatly trusted by the Female Scribe. Sijiu and I benefit from her standing; when we occasionally ask favors of him, things get done quickly. Forgive my presumption, Lady Jiang, but regarding your brother’s matter—if you have no plan of your own, better to ask the Steward first. He’ll surely give you some face.”

Jiang Man listened. Though it seemed a good idea, she felt uncertain at bottom, and only answered, “You speak wisely, Miss—you thought of it before I did. I’m deeply grateful for the trouble.”

Huailou turned her head and smiled. “We both share the Female Scribe’s burdens. Lady Jiang needn’t stand on ceremony.”

Jiang Man paused. “If you don’t mind, Miss, why not address each other by name? My childhood name is Xiaojiu.”

Huailou slowed her steps and gave Jiang Man a slight curtsy. “Thank you for the kind offer, my lady, but this servant dare not overstep.”

Jiang Man hadn’t expected this. “But why? You and I both serve at the Female Scribe’s side—our stations are the same. You’re a few years my senior, Miss Huailou, and my senior in service besides. How could that be overstepping?”

“As things stand now, that may be so. But one cannot look only at the present.” Huailou stopped, and standing with Jiang Man beneath the corridor, said in a low voice, “Those who see only the ground beneath their feet and forget the road ahead tend to take great falls. In time, my lady will come and go at the Female Scribe’s side, assisting her—that much can be expected. When that day comes, the Female Scribe will naturally treat you differently from the likes of me. However warmly I may feel toward you, I dare not put our Household Master in an awkward position.”

Jiang Man lowered her eyes and bowed. “I’ve put you in a difficult position.”

Huailou shook her head, signaling her not to dwell on it. Her expression remained dignified, as if nothing had happened, and she led Jiang Man slowly onward.

Her worry from the night before had not come true today. Yet Jiang Man felt no relief; because of this future-that-was-not-yet, her heart only grew heavier.

In Jiankang, Shen Wen had said plainly that she wanted her as her personal attendant.

Thinking of her tone then, her expression, Jiang Man’s heart fell into disarray, unable to pinpoint the exact reason.

Shen Wen was not a master given to jokes.

She had harbored a sliver of hope, wondering whether “personal attendant” meant something else. Perhaps Jiang Man had thought wrong; perhaps in Lin’an it was merely an ordinary post.

Everything around her told Jiang Man that she was anything but ordinary.

At the very least, Shen Wen treated her very unusually.

Whether Wu You and Female Scribe Shen had a private attachment, Jiang Man had several times sought a chance to ask Sijiu or Huailou, but never found the courage. Setting aside matters of men and women, Wu You held examination rank and would surely be valued by Shen Wen—yet he had come to Jiankang in person to escort her, and treated her with great courtesy besides.

Sijiu and Huailou should be the highest-ranked among the Hidden Osmanthus Garden’s servants. Yet even the two of them spoke to Jiang Man with great care. As for where they lived, Jiang Man had inquired—it was the same courtyard as the other servants. Only, the two held an elevated status, traveling with Shen Wen and often keeping night watch, so they had a room to themselves—considerably better than a shared bunk.

But Jiang Man herself not only had a whole South Courtyard to herself; counting Ke Ye, five people attended her.

Normally the servants went about their own tasks and didn’t follow her around, and Jiang Man had her own duties, so at first she hadn’t found it strange. The South Courtyard was a place for idle upkeep; whether or not Jiang Man was there, the four original attendants had to manage the courtyard’s various chores—less serving Jiang Man than serving the South Courtyard itself. Ke Ye, meanwhile, ran errands everywhere. So it seemed merely that Jiang Man’s lodging was more spacious and luxurious than most.

But was it really so?

If no one truly attended her, her two daily meals would require her to come collect them near this Water Room herself; her laundry would require her to seek out the washing maids herself, smiling and pleading. Jiang Man pondered this repeatedly as she followed Huailou inside, and only then did she realize something plainly before her eyes.

She had been here nearly ten days, yet hadn’t even known where the Water Room was.

The maids rose when the two entered, yielding the seats of honor and inviting Jiang Man and Huailou to sit. The leader, though attentive, spoke with proper measure, not trying to curry connections. Jiang Man thought of Ke Ye with her constant “good sister” this and that, then looked at these maids properly addressing “Miss Huailou,” and wondered whether Huailou had taken offense at Ke Ye.

As for Jiang Man, they treated her as a guest, utterly deferential.

Two maids volunteered to run errands; the elder one returned, moved the brazier closer to Jiang Man and Huailou, and the group sat in a corner, talking in low voices.

Jiang Man was lost in thought.

“My lady. The kitchen is cooking fresh dishes right now—stir-frying a few meat and vegetable dishes is no trouble, but the rice is being steamed fresh; without three or five quarters of an hour, I fear it won’t be ready.” Huailou spoke softly beside her. “A few cups of water won’t sustain us—better to have some pastries. Our garden makes its own: millet cakes, bean cakes; from the nearby Wazi Entertainment District there are wheat cakes, flower cakes, rice cakes, along with all manner of fruits. What would you like?”

Jiang Man flushed. “I’m quite all right.”

Huailou only smiled faintly, then said, “Then let me decide for you. Does Lady Jiang have any dietary restrictions?”

Jiang Man, too embarrassed to go into detail, said only, “Ordinary pastries and fruits should be fine; only the overly sweet ones are hard to stomach.”

Huailou nodded, gave her assent, and went to give orders. “Go to Qing Bridge and buy some good ones—weigh out a few Mirror Cakes and dry cakes each, plus two orders of Yam Dumplings. With what’s left, buy some fruits to share among the sisters. Be quick—two of you go, and bring the dumplings back to me first.”

“Yes.” The two maids raced off.

“Short as the trip is, we’ll still have to wait a while.” Huailou, smiling, came back to attend her, not sitting, standing at Jiang Man’s side and speaking in low tones. “The Water Room is far too noisy for conversation—better to fetch some books for you to pass the time. What would you like to read?”

Complaining it was too noisy to talk—could one really read in noise? Jiang Man was briefly taken aback. The few resting here already spoke with great care; presumably the “noise” was a coded phrase. She understood at once: the Water Room was no place for conversation. Vaguely she recalled the day Ke Ye had wanted her to “change clothes” in the study.

Huailou was cautious by nature; her advice to Ke Ye had been to avoid stirring up trouble.

Sijiu was bold but careful, lively in temperament, yet she too had urged her not to let others laugh at her.

Who was that “other”?

The Hidden Osmanthus Garden had many mouths and loose tongues; it seemed Jiang Man’s wild imaginings weren’t so wild after all.

Jiang Man shook her head. “Thank you for the thought, Miss. Sitting here a while to rest my limbs is quite enough.”

“Very well.” Huailou nodded and sat down nearby. “I’ll stay here and keep you company. If you need anything, just say the word.”

Jiang Man nodded slightly, thanked her, and privately breathed a sigh of relief.

If Huailou had gone off to other tasks and left her alone here, she truly would have been at a loss.

She had been a sheltered young lady for sixteen years and knew it inside out; but as for serving others and getting along with colleagues, Jiang Man had no concept at all.

Which words to say and which not, perhaps she could judge; but how to calibrate her manner—where, between arrogance and humility, the line fell—she truly did not know.

Shen Wen, being a woman, must have studied the Admonitions for Women at home like anyone else.

Then what did she rely on to maneuver among officials?

Was she born so heedless of propriety, born so proud and aloof, treating others’ censure as nothing?

Jiang Man’s thoughts drifted back to Shen Wen unbidden; her instructions surfaced in her mind, and Jiang Man’s heart grew disordered again.

Her earlier offer to address Huailou by name was no mere politeness. Jiang Man believed her attitude sincere; serving in the same place, they would grow familiar sooner or later.

She hadn’t expected Huailou to “not dare.”

Though she and Huailou hadn’t known each other long, Jiang Man guessed that “dare not” was no lie. Huailou spoke obliquely, yet after sitting there a while, Jiang Man gradually came to her senses: even if only in name, one day she would stand on equal footing with Shen Wen.

If one day Shen Wen addressed her as an equal by name, how would a servant dare overstep?

How she, a woman, would serve Shen Wen, another woman—how to attend her side, how to be this “personal attendant”—Jiang Man had thought about all this back in Jiankang.

Back then she was in deep mourning; as to what kind of Household Master Shen Wen really was, she could only guess from a few scraps of hearsay, so she hadn’t thought deeply, nor could she.

At that time, her mind was wholly fixed on the insolvent Jiang Family Brewery; being able to temporarily preserve her father’s life’s work, and having a rough lead on Jiang Ling’s whereabouts, was already fortune amid misfortune. As for her own future prospects and how to preserve her integrity, Jiang Man had given it little thought.

But now, it all lay spread before her eyes.

She was Shen Wen’s personal attendant.

As for Shen Wen, there were depths beneath her depths, unfathomable; even her residence held hidden designs.

Jiang Man no longer held out hope.

It was unusual for Shen Wen to have her study the Four Books, but such things presumably happened in scholar families too. But the Seven Slips from the Cloudy Satchel was Daoist learning—why require her to read it and then await examination?

Thinking of today: Jiang Man had volunteered to be Shen Wen’s Beauty Gu Vase, and Shen Wen had agreed at once, telling her only to study and read more—clearly she had long planned this: plans to have her move through official circles, listening to what Shen Wen wanted heard, discussing refined matters with scholars.

The secrets of it, Shen Wen seemed to have already mastered, and to perfection.

What a lofty person she was. Her status alone as the Empress’s niece let Shen Wen swim like a fish in water in the Provisional Imperial Capital; if she wanted to know something, it was as easy as turning over her palm.

But Jiang Man herself…

Though Jiang Man was her personal attendant, what she served at night might not be her.

The so-called Beauty Gu Vase—the vessel’s function was decided by Shen Wen.

Yet to others, she, Jiang Man, was perhaps only a beauty.

How to protect herself?

Empty-handed, before Jiang Man’s eyes lay only blankness.