Chapter 2

Chapter 2

But in the end, things still went wrong.

While Pochuan was happily embroidering her pair of mandarin-duck quilts, someone burst in, stuffed her mouth, and tied her up to take her away.

In the grand hall, she knelt there with a deathly pale face. The First Madam flung out a few dudous and said to the Old Madam: “Please, Mother, make the decision. Though this girl serves in your courtyard, she’s filthy. She has been having an affair with Dong Laizi from the stables. These dudous are the evidence. She absolutely must not be given to the First Young Master.”

The Old Madam’s expression darkened. For a junior to insult a senior’s maidservant like that was to provoke the Old Madam herself-she was voicing her displeasure at the Old Madam’s arrangement to take a concubine for the First Young Master.

But before the Old Madam could speak, she smiled and said, “But aside from her, all the ones in your courtyard are good. This daughter-in-law thinks Bichuan would be very suitable. Why not, Mother, switch to someone else and assign Bichuan to the First Young Master, so he can soon have heirs?”

So it wasn’t that she opposed taking a concubine for the First Young Master-she just wouldn’t allow him to take the one he favored.

What even a maid like me could see, the Old Madam of course understood better. She looked at Pochuan with grief, but in an instant she restrained herself and said, “Matters of the eldest branch are yours to decide in the end. Since that’s the case, switch to Bichuan then! Someone! Drag Spring Girl out and drive her out of the household together with that one from the stables.”

From start to finish, the cloth in Pochuan’s mouth was never removed. She came in terrified and left in despair; the masters didn’t give her a single chance to defend herself.

Because in the Old Madam’s heart, whether she was wronged or not didn’t matter; the peace of her son’s household mattered more.

In this calamity that befell someone else, it was I, the bystander, who broke out in a cold sweat. I clenched my handkerchief and swore to myself once again that I would never bear a child who would end up like us, a little maid.

Bichuan cried the whole night. She shared a room with Pochuan, and their feelings were the closest.

She stuffed most of her silver and gold into Pochuan’s bundle and said to me hoarsely, “I’ve taken her place; she surely won’t want to see me. Yaochuan, you take the bundle to her. Tell her to live well even after she leaves.”

But in the evening wind sharp as knives, the First Madam’s old nurse just stood guard and rifled through the bundle, stripping it clean of all the money we had tucked in.

I could only clutch Pochuan’s hand, shield it with my sleeve as I slipped her a bit of silver, and finally say, “Sister Pochuan, take care.”

She wrenched herself free of those people and hugged me tight, whispering the faintest words into my ear: “Help me. Help me find the First Young Master. Let him come save me.”

When she spoke, Dong Laizi was right there, baring a mouthful of yellow teeth, eyeing her with covetousness. The First Madam had given Sister Pochuan’s contract of sale to him; from then on, he was Pochuan’s man.

I knew I shouldn’t interfere. But we had come to the courtyard at seven years old and spent ten years together; those memories of sheltering one another scattered my reason. I kept watch for three days and finally caught sight of the First Young Master.

Right outside our courtyard, beneath the covered bridge where he had once whispered to Pochuan, he stopped Bichuan, squeezed her hand, and said with a smile, “Good girl, take these earrings. Once you’re in the courtyard, I’ll pamper you properly.”

Without a word, I turned away.

I had been foolish. It was just a trinket-who would care whether it was called Pochuan or Bichuan?