chapter 2

The weather grew colder. After the first heavy snow, we finally reached the capital.

Uncle Ying kept his word. Before my toes froze off, he sold me to Master Wu’s household in Goldfish Alley. He personally delivered me to the steward and praised my quick hands, quick feet, and limitless strength. Before leaving, he patted my head.

“Work hard. Stay alive.”

He had not deceived me. The Wus were kind masters. On my very first day, I received a padded coat and cotton shoes, finer clothes than I had ever worn. Dressed in them, I swore to myself that I would work hard, save enough to redeem my indenture, and stay on for a few more years. Then I would take a husband back to the Hailang River to marry into my family, buy several more fields, and give my relatives a good life.

Once I had learned the household’s basic rules, my experience with farmwork earned me a place under Nanny Zhang, who managed the garden. She was a sturdy, vigorous woman of about forty.

She looked me over with a mild expression and muttered, “If they had to send me someone, why send such a little girl?”

I pretended not to hear her complaint and grinned like a simpleton.

She laughed too, shook her head, and took me to the conservatory. There she patiently taught me to distinguish different orchids, and I learned for the first time which kinds of bark and pine needles such delicate flowers required.

She entrusted me with a pot of winter-blooming cymbidium. If I kept it alive until it flowered, she said, I was suited to stay in the garden. Otherwise, I could return to the chief steward and be assigned a job dealing with people.

I held the orchid in my arms. Its translucent leaves revealed deep veins in the sunlight, stretching out in silent greeting. I had never known mere grass could possess such elegance. It reminded me of the young master and young miss standing proudly beside Madam Wu when I had kowtowed to her.

My days in the Wu household were peaceful and contented. The orchid Nanny Zhang had given me bloomed, so I was allowed to stay. I followed her each day, learning to tend flowers and prune miniature trees.

In the evenings, Madam Wu’s senior maid taught the newly arrived girls needlework and reading. After pricking myself yet again, I abandoned embroidery and begged Qiyue to teach me to read and write instead.

Good days always seemed to pass too quickly.

Three or four snowfalls covered the courtyard before the first had even melted. Then disaster struck the Wu family.

It all happened so suddenly. The chief steward hurried into the garden to speak with Nanny Zhang. Soon afterward, she came to me with sorrow darkening her face. She handed me a thin sheet of paper and two taels of silver and told me to go home.

Officials flooded the residence and arrested Master and Madam Wu. I followed Nanny Zhang and knelt with the quietly sobbing servants to kowtow before our masters one last time. Then we left the estate.

When Master and Madam Wu were taken away, the chief steward and Nanny Zhang went after them. I rushed forward and called to her, only to be stopped by a yamen runner.

Nanny Zhang gave me a bitter smile. “Yu, go. Go home and live well.”

Bewildered, I crouched outside the sealed compound until the moon rose above the trees. From the gossiping onlookers, I learned that Master Wu had been implicated in an examination fraud case. His property had been confiscated.

My confusion only deepened.

I studied the compound wall, circled to the secluded dog hole by the side courtyard, and crawled inside. I found the orchid I had tended, gathered it carefully into my arms, and slipped back out. People said confiscated estates were left to decay. I could not bear to let the orchid that had done me such a kindness be swallowed by the abandoned house.

I had discovered the dog hole while weeding. Even the holes for dogs in wealthy homes were so exquisitely made that I had spent quite some time studying it. I had planned to build a fine large house back home and dig one just like it for Little Yellow.

I meant to tell Nanny Zhang about it, but that afternoon Madam Wu had rewarded us with pastries. The treats went to my head, and I forgot such a trivial matter.

Now I hugged the orchid and stared at the silver and the paper in my hands. The paper was my indenture.

I had just reached a line in the *Thousand Character Classic*: “Disgrace lies near; the wooded hills offer fortunate refuge.”

Then fortunate refuge in the wooded hills it would be.

I would go home.