Chapter 54: Return to the Manor

The carriage halted before the old Wen residence. Though only a few months had passed since their parting, everything felt changed—familiar walls and crimson gates now seemed desolate. Wen Qiran couldn’t help but feel a wave of emotion. A house without its people could hardly be called a home; the gates were tightly shut, with no servant to announce their arrival, no wife awaiting him—there was nothing at all of the feeling of returning home.

"Master, you should go in and rest," Lady Ping said, taking Wen Qiran’s arm.

He nodded.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and a lavishly dressed woman emerged, surrounded by several maids. She was unlike what Wen Jing had imagined. He had expected Madam Wen to be a shrewd and capable woman, yet at first glance, she seemed gentle and kind, her smile warm as the spring breeze.

"Master, you’re finally home. Come in and rest. I’ve already had the house thoroughly cleaned, and lunch is ready," Madam Wen said, walking towards Wen Qiran.

Wen Qiran’s expression changed; with a sweep of his sleeve, he strode inside as if he hadn’t seen her at all.

Wen Shilang, who hadn’t seen his mother for a long time, ran to her from afar. Madam Wen only gave him a brief hug before having the steward take him away to bathe and change.

Lady Ping curled her lips. "Sister, you’re well-informed—arrived home before us. It’s no wonder, living so close."

"It’s only proper," Madam Wen replied with a slight smile, showing no displeasure, and followed after Wen Qiran.

A young woman in a pale lavender dress timidly followed behind Madam Wen. She quietly slipped to Wen Jing’s side and whispered, "Seventh Sister, you’re back! I’ve missed you terribly."

Wen Jing looked up at the sweet-faced girl, whose charming smile was both graceful and endearing. A name flashed through her mind—Wen Jiuniang. So this was the one who had always been closest to the former Wen Qiniang. But why did Wen Jing feel such a strong aversion upon first seeing her?

"How have you been lately, Jiuniang?" Wen Jing asked with a smile.

"Not too well. The cousins at my uncle’s house all bullied me," Wen Jiuniang pouted. "But you seem much better than before, Seventh Sister. Did you take some elixir?"

"No, I suppose the country air did me good and put me in a better mood, so I recovered faster," Wen Jing replied with a gentle smile.

"That’s wonderful. I prayed for your recovery every day before the Bodhisattva at my uncle’s house. Now that you’re better, perhaps the Bodhisattva sensed my sincerity," Wen Jiuniang said, dabbing at her eyes.

Wen Jing felt a wave of nausea. What did her health have to do with Jiuniang? The girl’s act was so natural, her performance almost flawless.

"Perhaps that’s just it. I was wondering why I recovered so suddenly—it must be thanks to your sincere prayers. Thank you, Jiuniang," Wen Jing said, taking her hand.

"That’s what a younger sister should do," Wen Jiuniang replied, squeezing Wen Jing’s hand in return.

The Wen residence was modest enough—just a three-courtyard house, as was common in the capital.

At mealtime, as before, men and women sat at separate tables.

Madam Wen glanced at Wen Jing, thinking to herself that not only had this sickly girl survived the journey, but she also looked healthier than before.

"Seventh Daughter, you’re weak—eat more," Madam Wen said, placing a piece of rib in Wen Jing’s bowl.

"Thank you, Mother. You’ve troubled yourself for my sake," Wen Jing replied, moved.

"You came early, which was only right. You always treated me even better than your own sisters," Madam Wen said with a tinge of sadness.

"Don’t be sad, Mother. If my mother knows in the afterlife, she’ll be grateful to you," Wen Jing consoled her.

"Mother truly has a compassionate heart," Fifth Daughter added, dabbing at her eyes.

Wen Jiuniang kept her head down, eating quietly, glancing at Wen Jing from the corner of her eye.

After lunch, Madam Wen said, "Most of the old maids have been sold off. Now that we’re short-handed, I’ve bought some new ones. Times aren’t what they were; we must be frugal. Everyone’s tired from the journey, so choose your maids quickly and go rest."

She turned to Wen Jing. "Seventh Daughter, you choose first."

Wen Jiuniang and Fifth Daughter both glanced at Wen Jing, who nodded and surveyed the maids lined up in the courtyard.

They were all neat and comely, similar in height and build; one of them looked especially familiar.

"Seventh Miss," a maid called softly, her eyes full of hope.

Wen Jing felt she recognized her but couldn’t recall her name.

"I’m Mingyin," the girl whispered urgently.

Mingyin—the name rang a bell. Wen Jing suddenly remembered she had been one of her own first-class maids in the past.

Mingyin gazed at Wen Jing expectantly. Wen Jing had always treated her maids well, and as the legitimate daughter, she’d always had better provisions than the other branches. If she could continue serving Wen Jing, it would be ideal.

Wen Jing turned to a round-faced maid beside her. "What’s your name?" she asked.

"I am Qingliu," replied the dark-skinned maid.

"Would you like to serve me?" Wen Jing asked.

The maid nodded. "I would be honored, Miss."

Mingyin was startled, disappointment clouding her eyes.

No one understood why Wen Jing had chosen Qingliu, who seemed the most useless among them.

Wen Jing took Qingliu aside, waiting as the others chose their maids. Mingyin was chosen by Fifth Daughter, while Jiuniang waited until the end and took whoever was left.

After the personal maids were chosen, Madam Wen assigned the second-class maids.

"Madam Zhou is getting on in years and should not work too hard. She’ll continue to receive her monthly allowance, but from today, household affairs will be handled by this new stewardess, Madam He," Madam Wen said, pointing to a sharp-eyed older woman.

"Yes, Mother."

Wen Jing glanced at the woman. It seemed life would not be dull in the days ahead.

Everyone returned to their rooms with their new maids. Third and Fifth Daughters shared a courtyard, as did Eighth and Ninth Daughters, while Wen Jing, as the legitimate daughter, lived alone in her own courtyard.

Back in her room, Wen Jing looked Qingliu up and down. "Did you once warn me to be wary of Madam Wen?"

Qingliu nodded.

"Unfortunately, I mistook you for a villain and punished you for it," Wen Jing said with a wry smile. She hadn’t thought much of this plain-looking girl before, hadn’t expected her to remain in the household. Seeing her now brought back many memories.

"Are you willing to help me?" Wen Jing asked.

"I am, Miss. I stayed in the residence all this time, waiting for the day you’d wake up. My life was saved by your mother—it belongs to her, and to you," Qingliu said gruffly.

So it was her mother who had saved her. Wen Jing sighed. Her mother’s foresight far surpassed that of the former Wen Qiniang. Even on her deathbed, she’d left her daughter a path to survival. Wen Jing couldn’t help but feel a deep respect for her predecessor.