It was no surprise that Yanyan had privately given this woman a nickname — “five-pace viper.” Every sentence she had uttered since they walked in carried poison; she would not be satisfied until she had drawn blood. The description had a certain accuracy to it.
By comparison, the woman at the Meng household could genuinely be called gentle.
Fortunately, for all the five-pace viper’s venom, there was someone who knew exactly how to handle her.
“Concubine, there is no need for you to try and sow discord here — it would be wasted on us. Save that particular skill for teaching it to your daughter Yin Zhang instead. The Flower Festival Banquets are almost upon us, and Yin Zhang is soon to be betrothed — it would be a shame for such a talent to go without a successor.” She paused, and before Master Ye could work himself up to anger, continued: “Everyone here knows I have a heat affliction. I have no control over what I say when it flares — please do not take offense.”
“Bickering like this in front of a guest — what sort of behavior is that.” Master Ye said in distaste.
Madam Ye fluidly shifted course and moved at once to take A’Cuo’s arm and seat her, smiling: “Just so — we have such a lovely little guest, and she deserves a proper welcome. I hear your name is A’Cuo? With looks like yours, you will be one of the standouts at the Flower Festival Banquets too…”
As she spoke, she settled her hand on A’Cuo’s shoulder. A’Cuo felt as though a python had coiled around her — her skin prickled and rose in goosebumps, and the woman’s arm against hers seemed to grow as smooth and cold as a serpent’s coils, wanting only scales to complete the resemblance.
Then another hand settled on her other shoulder. A’Cuo looked up — it was Ye Qinglan, drawing her gently but firmly away, facing Madam Ye and saying: “The Flower Festival Banquets are not solely about appearance — character and nature always come first. A’Cuo is only fifteen. She is simply going this year to observe and gain some experience of the world.”
“Qinglan is right — as one would expect from someone who nearly took top honors at the banquets herself, back in the day. Such a pity.” Madam Ye said the words with every appearance of regret, though her eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and she turned to Master Ye: “Master, I have a thought — why not have Qinglan attend the Flower Festival Banquets this year as well? Though she is older, she could watch over her sisters. Once the younger sisters are well settled, that is as good as Qinglan herself being settled.”
At that, something approaching murderous intent surfaced in Ye Lingbo’s eyes.
But for all that Madam Ye was a viper, Ye Lingbo was more than her match.
“Concubine makes a fair point. Since Elder Sister would be taking on such a heavy responsibility, it is only right she be compensated accordingly. Would Concubine be so kind as to send some of this year’s new silk to our courtyard to make clothes for Elder Sister for the banquets? And while we are at it, please also return the jewelry and hairpieces belonging to our mother that Concubine set aside years ago — though of course Little Sister Yin Zhang has her needs, those pieces were our mother’s, and to borrow indefinitely without returning is hardly proper.”
Ye Lingbo reached this point, observed that Madam Ye had nothing left to say, and saw that it was Master Ye instead who was beginning to show signs of rising anger. At the sight of his expression, Ye Lingbo broke into a small, composed smile.
“All right. I can see that this courtyard is a one-way vessel — everything flows in, nothing flows out. Who would dare expect Concubine to give us anything? We should count ourselves fortunate that nothing more of ours has been taken. A’Cuo is our guest, not Concubine’s — there is no need to issue her an allowance from this side, we will manage everything ourselves. All we ask is that you refrain from disturbing us.” She said this with perfect ease and nonchalance.
No matter how he could excuse himself by the heat affliction, Master Ye was well and truly enraged now.
“Listen to yourself. How much is a monthly allowance worth — making such a scene about trifles in front of a guest. You call yourself a young lady of a good family?”
“A monthly allowance is not much, it is true — but Concubine has been withholding it for half a month now. One wonders what that is meant to signify?” Ye Lingbo asked him with a smile. “We do not depend on that money to survive — if we did, we would have starved long ago. But what is owed to us should be returned promptly. Otherwise this matter may yet reach the Old Madam, and that would look far worse for everyone.”
The barely veiled threat sent Master Ye into a shaking fury. He turned on Ye Lingbo: “A woman’s most important quality is gentleness and compliance. The way you carry on — you would only bring shame on yourself at the Flower Festival Banquets.”
Ye Lingbo did not engage with him, did not plead or apologize — she simply smiled, took A’Cuo’s hand, and rose to her feet: “Master Ye’s instruction is noted. In any case, the courtesies have been observed, and we will take A’Cuo back now. Absent any pressing matter, please do not trouble yourself to visit our courtyard — send word if anything arises. We take our leave.”
Ye Qinglan added a few polishing words — something about needing to prepare for the Flower Festival Banquets and thanking Father for his understanding — but Ye Lingbo was already done with it, grabbed her along with the rest of them, and swept everyone back out together.
As they emerged from the main courtyard, they saw Yanyan ahead of them, holding a lacquered box and chatting with an elderly serving woman, making her way toward them with a cheerful grin.
“Hold it,” Ye Lingbo called out at once. “Where have you been? How many times have I told you — is this side of the house somewhere to go wandering around? Running all over the place, you wouldn’t even know if someone did something to you. I think your skin must be itching — I’ll deal with you when we get back.”
“I went to see the Old Madam,” Yanyan said, aggrieved.
“Everyone knows you went to see the Old Madam.” Ye Lingbo seized her and lowered her voice sharply: “The Old Madam is bedridden. Yes, filial duty keeps that woman in line — but surviving under a daughter-in-law’s thumb is no easy thing. She has the rare chance to give you something, and you go parading it around in full view, as good as announcing it to Concubine Pan herself. Get back with us this instant.”
A’Cuo had heard as much before: the Ye family’s Old Madam had been confined to bed since suffering a stroke. In her day she had been a sharp and capable woman who ran the household with a clear hand — but faced now with a son who elevated his concubine above his principal wife, a son who had made common cause with his concubine and driven three granddaughters out to live in a side wing, there was nothing she could do about it. It was easier not to see what she could not change.