Their gazes met, both experiencing a moment of stunned silence.
Seventh Miss bit her lip and swallowed the choking sensation in her throat before gracefully curtsying. “Uncle Lian.”
Eunuch Lian waved his hand dismissively, paced to Seventh Miss’s side, and together they admired these magnificent embroidered works.
“This embroidered screen was your father’s gift to celebrate the Late Emperor’s fortieth birthday.” His voice ultimately carried a trace of the eunuch’s characteristic sharp thinness. “During the Late Emperor’s lifetime, on every birthday, he would certainly take it out to personally admire. After the dragon chariot ascended to heaven, I expended considerable effort to procure it from the inner treasury—it’s been in my possession barely three years.”
Eunuchs were impoverished, and those with clean hands weren’t many. But even when stealing, they chose small items easy to dispose of. Such ostentatious large pieces—probably only a capable grand eunuch like Eunuch Lian could manage to procure them for private collection.
Seventh Miss then paced to the partition wall, examining the embroidered works one by one. Sure enough, all were Ninth Concubine’s handiwork. Though the relief embroidery technique was later acquired by Qianxiu Workshop, there remained obvious differences from pieces Ninth Concubine had personally embroidered. For someone like Seventh Miss who had attended Ninth Concubine closely and received some of her true teachings, naturally she could distinguish them at a glance.
Just in this one room, the embroidered works large and small numbered no less than a hundred pieces.
Seventh Miss only felt the choking in her throat and the weight in her chest intensify with each glance. Looking at this room was like looking at Ninth Concubine’s entire life. Though she’d been buried many years, in this room, among all her life’s works, that girl rarely seen by others—who had absolute confidence in her skills, who harbored infinite hope and plans—seemed to live again, smiling gracefully at every visitor from behind these exquisite works.
She quickly paced back before the golden dragon breaking through the sea great screen, her breathing already somewhat disordered.
“This was the last large piece she embroidered in Suzhou.” Seventh Miss stared at the goose-yellow brocade before her, speaking hoarsely. “Not long after, she became pregnant… then went to the Northwest.”
All the embroidered works in this room were created by Ninth Concubine before childbirth. That was the most beautiful time of her life. Precisely because of this, emerging from behind every needle and thread was a happy girl, even a happy young wife…
Yet what Seventh Miss was familiar with was a failure already crushed by life.
She never knew that reminiscing about Ninth Concubine’s former sweetness would make her heart so bitter.
Eunuch Lian sighed softly.
“Your mother’s works from the Northwest were merely sold at ordinary handkerchief prices. Those who acquired them didn’t particularly treasure them. These years I’ve deliberately searched—obtained very few… For some reason, I’m also very unwilling to display them here.”
This middle-aged man’s tone gained several parts bitterness. “After all, I’m getting old. Though great wrongs have already been committed, when looking back, I still prefer remembering her at her best.”
For the first time, Seventh Miss turned her head, looking directly into Eunuch Lian’s eyes.
Eunuch Lian was also looking at her, but his gaze was vacant. He seemed to want to look through Seventh Miss’s face to pursue another person no longer in this world. The grief in these eyes was so concentrated it could no longer dissolve.
Seventh Miss suddenly felt somewhat suffocated.
“Uncle summoned me.” She abruptly turned around, not daring to look at those exquisite handicrafts anymore. “Surely not just to show me these…”
She gestured wildly toward this roomful of vivid memories. “These scars from the past.”
Eunuch Lian’s gaze still didn’t relax. However, Seventh Miss herself knew she resembled neither Ninth Concubine nor First Master. In the Northwest, Ninth Concubine often said—
“Only your eyes resemble mine!” Ninth Concubine’s manner was happy, her handwork unceasing, yet her face rarely showed a smile. “From childhood my eyes were bright. If not for doing too much embroidery these years—the eye moisture dried up and the brightness turned cloudy. Otherwise, they’d also be watery. People said they were like two pools of Luyu Well water!”
“Only your eyes resemble hers.” Eunuch Lian extended his hand, but his fingers didn’t touch Seventh Miss’s cheek before lowering again. He stepped back several paces, as if this uncompleted touch had already scalded his fingertips. “Like well water… clear and rippling…”
His voice already carried a trace of trembling. “Only after so many years do I realize how ignorant youth was.”
This refined middle-aged man took a deep breath, seeming to calm down again. He turned around, standing before the partition, gently touching the smooth glass before asking Seventh Miss in a low voice, “Where is your mother buried?”
“In the ancestral cemetery of Yang Family Village in the Northwest, there’s a place for her.” Seventh Miss lowered her eyes, also quietly steadying her breathing.
Just observing Eunuch Lian’s behavior showed that regarding Ninth Concubine, he probably still couldn’t forget his feelings.
Such deep affection—yet why did it end this way?
She desperately wanted to know. She very much wanted to know the details of Ninth Concubine’s affair back then. Since obtaining the so-called ‘truth’ from Nanny Liang, Seventh Miss wished she could travel through time back then to personally experience Ninth Concubine’s life once over, to judge right from wrong.
She once thought Grand Madam was the chief culprit who destroyed Ninth Concubine’s life, so revenge was merely a simple matter. All her grief could find an outlet for venting on Grand Madam. She’d considered so many methods of revenge against her—some requiring decades, while others would even appear in the guise of repaying kindness.
However, the moment she heard the ‘truth,’ Seventh Miss was shocked to realize how skilled she was at self-deception.
First Master, Eunuch Lian, Embroiderer Huang, Master Feng—did these people also bear responsibility for Ninth Concubine’s life tragedy? And who was she to decide on Ninth Concubine’s behalf who was right and wrong, who should bear revenge, who could escape beyond her vengeance? Her certainty that Grand Madam was the chief culprit—was it merely because among all these people, Grand Madam was the weakest one, the one within range of her abilities?
But how should she pursue the truth?
Seventh Miss took a deep breath. She raised her eyes, directly meeting Eunuch Lian’s gaze, adjusting her state, trying to elevate her bearing as much as possible.
This elder worked beside the empire’s most powerful man. Though his attitude was mild, he always had an indescribable aura that made people cautious in his presence.
Yet Seventh Miss merely looked directly into his eyes. She slowly asked, “Uncle Lian, what exactly happened back then? I… very much want to know.”
Eunuch Lian’s pupils constricted. He suddenly awakened from his immersion in thoughts of Ninth Concubine, looking toward Seventh Miss sharply and coldly.
This question from Seventh Miss had actually violated the unwritten rules of social settings. Eunuchs’ castration was also called “leaving the household”—matters before leaving the household were theoretically never discussed in the person’s presence. After all, if there were another path to take, who would willingly wield the knife for self-castration? Eunuch Lian himself could reminisce, but Seventh Miss asking about the past could be said to have touched the most painful scar in his heart.
In this moment, Eunuch Lian was no longer that mild middle-aged man. As his expression turned cold, he invisibly possessed an oppressive aura. Even when First Master was angry, he probably was only this frightening.
Yet Seventh Miss remained unmoved, merely steadily meeting Eunuch Lian’s gaze. No matter that those water-clear pupils reflected Eunuch Lian’s angry expression, she remained still as calm water.
Eunuch Lian suddenly deflated like a punctured ball, softening.
He first averted his gaze, as if admitting his defeat, turned his back, paced to the corner again, meticulously appreciating the silver thread random stitch flower, bird, and figure embroidery there.
“The story from back then is actually quite simple to tell.” The sharp tone in his words seemed to stem from a eunuch’s physiological structure, and also seemed to stem from his own agitated emotions. “Nothing more than an ignorant youth named Zheng Lianji who, after committing every heartless and faithless deed, died cleanly. The one who lived on was the nameless Eunuch Lian.”
Seventh Miss maintained silence. She didn’t move, merely quietly facing Eunuch Lian’s back amid this roomful of splendid embroidery.
“Your mother and I grew up together from childhood. The Zheng and Feng families were also distantly related, living nearby. From youth to adulthood, I frequently visited the Feng household. Initially just because I got along well with your eldest uncle. Later, your mother was also eleven or twelve years old, growing quite beautiful… The two families’ circumstances didn’t differ much. When your mother turned thirteen, I asked someone to propose marriage on my behalf.”
The story’s beginning was naturally ordinary. Eunuch Lian took a deep breath, his tone slightly fragmented, then continued.
“But your mother had learned relief embroidery—that was the Feng family’s unique skill. Your maternal grandfather had already died, your maternal grandmother was also sickly, the family fortune had declined. They relied entirely on your aunt being good at household management and your mother finding ways to supplement the family income to continue year by year. Your eldest uncle intended to keep your mother a few more years before finding her a good family to marry into. With her skills, ordinary families would compete to propose marriage.”
“When I came to propose, your mother herself agreed, but your eldest uncle thought the Zheng family too poor. In the future after your mother married in, she’d probably take the relief embroidery technique away… So he demanded one thousand taels in betrothal gifts, wanting me to retreat in the face of difficulty.”
“If she were an ordinary woman, she’d probably have resigned herself to fate. But Feng Hong’s character was strong-willed from childhood. This time was no exception. That night she brought her sister-in-law as chaperone and secretly entered my home through the back door, asking how much silver the betrothal gifts still lacked—she’d find a way to make up the difference.”