chapter 4

I did not know the young master’s or young miss’s names. They were the only two young members of the Wu household, but a servant had no right to inquire after her masters’ personal names. A girl who tended flowers needed only to know the difference between sweet flag and orchid.

They were still sitting where I had left them, so I crouched before them.

“My name is Dongyu. I worked under Nanny Zhang. Young Miss, do you remember me? I once wove you a little straw horse. Now that disaster has struck your family, come home with me. The days of wealth are over, but we can still live honest lives.”

The young miss, only seven, looked at her brother, threw herself into my arms, and began crying again.

Her brother seemed two years older than me, yet when he stood, he was no taller. He looked at his sobbing sister and nodded through the tightness in his throat.

“We will be in your care.”

Uncle Ying was leaving for the north in a few days. I exchanged some of my silver for smaller pieces and carried the young miss on my back from shop to shop, buying what we needed. Their brocades and silks were no longer suitable, but rough hemp would chafe skin unused to it. So I bought cotton cloth, washed and kneaded it again and again under the broker women’s instruction, and lined the hemp with it to sew each sibling two outfits.

When I saw the young master wearing uneven sleeves and my dreadful stitches, embarrassment burned my face.

Uncle Ying teased me from the side. “With needlework like that, did you spend the past two years as a young lady in the Wu household? No wonder you enjoyed yourself enough to redeem these two burdens.”

The young master tugged at his hem and bowed halfway to me.

“Thank you for your trouble, Dongyu. You needn’t call us Young Master and Young Miss anymore. My name is Wu Xiaoming. You may call me Brother Ming, as my older cousins on Mother’s side do.” He pointed to the little girl. “My sister is Wu Xiaomian. Call her Mian.”

The day before we were due to depart, Xiaoming burst into the side room where we were staying.

“Mian, Father won’t die! Father won’t die!”

He called his sister’s name, but the words were meant for me.

Uncle Ying wandered in carrying his battered old tea bowl and confirmed the news. The empress had given birth to a legitimate prince, and the emperor had proclaimed a general amnesty. The Wu family was among those pardoned.

Good news: the death sentence was commuted, and the family was released.

Bad news: they were to be exiled to Ningguta, and Madam Wu insisted on accompanying her husband.

“Dongyu, thank you for everything you have done for my sister and me. I must trouble you to care for Mian. I will accompany my parents to Ningguta.”

Xiaoming stood perfectly straight as he spoke. Resolve replaced the confusion in his eyes, and the innocence he had once possessed began to fall away.

I looked at the hands that had reddened after carrying water for me only twice and slowed the comb moving through Mian’s hair.

“We’ll all go together. It’s no trouble.”

My contradiction seemed to surprise him, but he continued firmly.

“My parents have suffered an undeserved catastrophe. As their son, I must remain at their side and fulfill my duty.” Then, as though he owed me an explanation, he added, “Ningguta is distant, bitterly cold, and harsh. Take Mian home with you. If the Wu family is ever vindicated, I will come personally to repay you.”

I tied the last ribbon into Mian’s hair and studied her porcelain face, afraid it would not survive the northern wind. Then I looked at Xiaoming, who wore the expression of a man marching to his death.

I could not tease him any longer.

I picked up Mian and walked toward the door.

“Come on. My home is in Ningguta.”

The other members of the Wu household had also been pardoned. I found Uncle Ying and asked him to return the six hundred taels I had paid for the siblings.

Once he understood, he slammed his old tea bowl onto the table and pointed at me.

“If not for my discerning eye, where would you have found the money to redeem them? You blackhearted girl! I did you a kindness, and now you turn around and scheme against me!”

He cursed me without pause. I did not move. I was neither angry nor ashamed. Something about his fury felt familiar, and my nose stung as my eyes filled.

Perhaps he saw I was about to cry. Perhaps he simply ran out of breath.

“Silver paid, goods delivered. Do you understand what that means?”

I shook my head and stayed where I was.

His fingers drummed the table. He pointed at me, started several sentences with “You—,” then demanded, “You want a refund from me, but do you think I bought them for nothing? Do you think Clerk Li at the yamen will give me back my money?”

I shook my head again.

He waved me away, too weary to bother with me. I lowered my head and rubbed my toes together.

“It certainly didn’t cost you six hundred taels,” I said quietly but clearly.

The “blackheart” who cursed other people for being blackhearted refused to return a single coin. At last, we compromised. I would not ask for the money, and he would help us find Madam Wu.

The next day, Uncle Ying took us to another brokerage. There was nodding, smiling, and exchanging pleasantries. Then came raised voices, frowns, shaking heads, and hearty slaps on the other broker’s shoulder.

After much back-and-forth, Madam Wu was brought out, along with Chief Steward Gao, Nanny Li, and the senior maid Qiyue.

Everyone clung together and wept. When the tears finally subsided, we sat at a roadside wonton stall and sorted out the situation.

The confiscation did not extend to Madam Wu’s original dowry. Chief Steward Gao had come to the household as part of that dowry and needed to remain in the capital. With considerable maneuvering, he might recover some of her property.

Qiyue’s family farmed outside the city. Since she had been sold into service, they had long ceased to regard her as their daughter. But her childhood sweetheart, now apprenticed at a clinic, had been waiting for her.

She had served Madam Wu since childhood. Madam Wu had planned to release her once Master Wu passed the metropolitan examination that year, then send her into marriage with a rich dowry so her husband’s family could never look down on her. Now Qiyue could no longer stay.

While everyone was speaking, a young man in a blue-gray robe rushed over. It was the apprentice physician, come to take Qiyue away.

They knelt before Madam Wu. Qiyue opened her mouth but could not utter a word. A broken sob escaped instead. She pressed her forehead to Madam Wu’s knee, and gradually her weeping slipped beyond control.

Madam Wu clasped her hand and removed the jade Buddha she wore against her skin.

“I have failed you. The dowry I planned for you is gone, and I have nothing now. If Steward Gao recovers even part of my property, you will still receive the shop I promised. My mother gave me this jade Buddha. Keep it as a remembrance.”

She stroked Qiyue’s back, then turned to the young physician.

“Disaster may have struck the Wu family, but Qiyue is a good child. Treat her well after you marry. Build a good life together.”

Steward Gao left. Qiyue went with the young physician. Nanny Zhang did not go.

Only later did I learn why.

Nanny Zhang’s former husband had managed the trees and gardens on one of the family estates. He beat her and their children whether he had cause or not, treating them as objects on which to vent his rage. One night, drunk, he beat their little daughter to death. He nearly killed Nanny Zhang as well, and whatever half of her life remained seemed to have followed the dead child.

Madam Wu happened upon the scene during an inspection of the estate and dealt with the husband at once.

Nanny Zhang remained at her side afterward, but part of her soul still seemed lost with her murdered daughter. Whenever she saw someone who resembled her husband, she could fall into a frenzy, seize the person, and demand payment for her child’s life.

After several such episodes, Madam Wu’s heart ached for her. She and Steward Gao reviewed every task in the residence that required little contact with people. Since Nanny Zhang had a gift for plants, they placed her in sole charge of the conservatory.

Steeped day after day in the fragrance of leaves and flowers, she slowly recovered until she seemed no different from anyone else.