Chapter 1

The day my widowed cousin returned to the capital, my husband sent a bottle of Crabapple Blossom Water I had made myself straight to her room.

He explained that she had just lost her husband and deserved a little extra care. I ought not begrudge her that.

I nodded, had the main courtyard cleared, and laid a divorce agreement, the account books, and the storeroom keys before him.

He asked what I meant.

“If you want to look after her, then see to it properly,” I said. “I won't get in your way.”

1.

In the seventh year of my marriage to Qin Zhaoye, Liu Hanyan became a widow.

The sky was overcast when she returned to the capital from Jiangnan. Rain dripped in an unbroken string from the eaves. Qin Zhaoye went straight from court to meet her at the city gates without even changing out of his official robes.

I was in the west wing, sifting dried crabapple petals. I had collected them all spring and meant to distill them into floral water for Madam Xu, who owned the silk shop in the south of the city. Her daughter was getting married, and she had ordered thirty bottles. The order was urgent, and the price was good.

The housekeeper hesitated outside my door for some time before speaking.

“Madam, His Lordship has brought your cousin back and settled her in the Waterside Pavilion. She said the journey had given her a headache. His Lordship has ordered the kitchen to make a calming soup and sent over a bottle of Crabapple Blossom Water.”

I set the sieve on the table. “Which bottle?”

The housekeeper lowered her head. “One from the batch you set aside for Madam Xu.”

I smiled. “That batch hasn't been sealed yet. The scent is rather strong, and it tastes a little astringent. If she has a headache, it should suit her.”

Then I called the housekeeper back.

“Send over the white jade incense burner from the storeroom as well. The Waterside Pavilion is damp. My cousin's health is delicate; we mustn't let the night damp get to her.”

Liu Hanyan was my aunt's daughter, two years older than me. She had always been beautiful, her features like a white lotus opening through mist and rain. Even when she frowned, someone would gladly clear the way for her.

I hadn't disliked her as a child.

She would share a new box of rouge with me. She would plead for me when the nurse scolded me. Only, the colors she gave me were always the ones she had examined and rejected, and her pleas always ended with a reminder that I ought to be more sensible.

One Lantern Festival, she pressed a rabbit lantern into my hands, then pulled me along to ask our uncle for a bolt of new cloth for her. The nurse praised her for loving her little cousin. She leaned against my mother and smiled while I supplied the rest of the request she had left unsaid.

After enough occasions like that, I stopped attaching much value to her gifts.

Qin Zhaoye finally entered the main courtyard at dusk. He brought the cold damp air in with him, but his face looked much more at ease.

“Ah Heng, Hanyan has had a hard time in Jiangnan these past few years,” he said. “Her husband was ill for two years, and he left her a mountain of debt when he died. She'll stay with us for a while. Look after her.”

I poured him hot tea.

“There are four maids at the Waterside Pavilion, and I've added staff to the kitchen. If anything else is needed, give me a list.”

He lifted his cup, then looked up at me. “You're not angry?”

“My cousin has come back in mourning and is staying with her relatives. Why should I be angry?”

Perhaps he hadn't expected such a ready answer. For a moment, he looked uncomfortable.

I lowered my eyes and skimmed the foam from my tea.

“Only, someone has taken a bottle of Madam Xu's Crabapple Blossom Water, so tomorrow I'll have to start another distillation. Since you took it, do remember to tell her delivery will be two days late.”

Qin Zhaoye frowned. “It's one bottle of floral water. Must you make such an issue of it?”

“One bottle isn't worth much,” I said, looking up. “But it was an order I accepted. If you make decisions about it without asking me, I ought at least to be told.”

He put down his cup, plainly feeling I had spoiled the mood.

“You're becoming more difficult by the day.”

With that, he left for the Waterside Pavilion.

The rain thickened outside the window.

I had the crabapple branches that hadn't dried brought indoors, then extinguished the sample lamp I had set aside for Madam Xu.

Once, I had been so afraid of displeasing him that I would almost invent his excuses for him, even over a box of rouge or a bolt of cloth.

Now, watching him walk away, I hardly hurt at all.

I only thought how timely the rain was. Tomorrow, there would be another layer of fresh petals beneath the flowering branches.

2.

The following morning, Liu Hanyan came to the main courtyard in a pale cloak to thank me.

Her eyes were a little red. She carried a brocade box containing a hairpin of creamy white jade. A spray of crabapple blossoms had been carved at its head, the petals polished so thin they were almost translucent in the sunlight.

“Ah Heng, all these years away, I remembered how fond you were of making floral water, so I bought you this.” She pushed the box toward me. “You went to so much trouble arranging a room for me yesterday. I feel quite guilty.”

I glanced at it but didn't reach for the box.

“You've remembered wrong, Cousin. I prefer woody scents. I don't usually wear crabapple ornaments.”

Her face paled.

Just then Qin Zhaoye came in. Hearing my reply, he smiled.

“Crabapple blossoms suit you. You wore a pin like that once, and everyone said it looked lovely.”

“Must I like something because everyone says it looks lovely?”

His smile faded.

Liu Hanyan hurriedly put the pin back in its box.

“I was presumptuous. Zhaoye told me you often made Crabapple Blossom Water, so I took it upon myself to choose.”

“Don't trouble yourself over it, Cousin.” I lifted my tea. “I distill Crabapple Blossom Water because the ladies of the capital like it, not because I do.”

She lowered her eyes, looking just hurt enough.

Sure enough, Qin Zhaoye shot me a reproachful glance.

I handed her an account book.

“These are this month's expenses for the Waterside Pavilion. Buy anything else you need. Only, every household allowance has a limit. Please sign for anything over it, so I can explain the extra expense to the steward.”

Her hand stopped in midair.

“She's staying in our home,” Qin Zhaoye said, his voice low. “Must she sign her name to spend a few coins?”

“I keep the Qin household's accounts.” I turned to the last page. “Of course, if you'd rather cover her expenses yourself, all the better. I'll have the accountant put them on your private account.”

For a moment, he said nothing. He merely set his cup on the table.

His monthly salary was modest, and social obligations in the capital were expensive. The household maintained its respectable appearance largely through the profits from my dowry shops and the silver I had saved from making floral water over the years.

He knew that perfectly well. He was simply used to not thinking any further.

Liu Hanyan bit her lip.

“I won't be here long. There's no need to go to so much trouble.”

I nodded. “All the better. Once you've found somewhere suitable, I'll have the coachman take you there.”

Qin Zhaoye's face darkened.

“Ah Heng, Hanyan has only just returned. She has no family at her side. Must you be so heartless?”

“You asked me to look after her, and I've made the arrangements you wanted.” I looked at him. “What, exactly, is still wrong?”

He opened his mouth but found nothing to say.

That afternoon, he had a bolt of soft, moon-white gauze taken from the storeroom and sent to the Waterside Pavilion.

I told the steward to record it as usual, and that evening laid the list on his desk.

He was composing an essay. The sight of the list made his brush blot the paper.

“Ah Heng, are you keeping accounts with me over these things now?”

I replaced the spoiled sheet with a clean one.

“You once told me the greatest danger in official life is taking a wrong step. Household accounts are accounts too. I keep them properly for you so there will be no difficulty explaining them later.”

He stared at me for a long time, then tucked the list into his book.

He didn't come back to the main courtyard that night.

I had the pots of banksia roses delivered by the shop placed along the veranda. Their small white flowers were in full bloom, and the night breeze carried their fresh scent through the courtyard.

I sat beneath the lamplight checking my orders, calmer than I had been in a long time.

3.

Three days later, the Earl of Yong'an's household held a spring banquet.

Qin Zhaoye had said he wouldn't go. But when Liu Hanyan heard there would be floating lanterns on the lake and a poetry gathering, she murmured that she hadn't been out for so long and would like to see the festivities.

He immediately ordered the carriage prepared and told me to come as well.

I had a maid bring two outfits, one a pale lotus pink, the other indigo.

Liu Hanyan touched the pink one, her eyes brightening.

“Ah Heng, what a lovely color.”

“Wear it if you like.”

I kept the indigo for myself.

“I told you,” Qin Zhaoye said with a smile, “lotus pink suits Hanyan better.”

I fastened the silk drape at my shoulder. “You have an excellent eye.”

His smile faltered.

Perhaps my answer had been too light. He seemed to lose interest in continuing.

The banquet was held beside Mirror Lake in the earl's residence.

Willows trailed over the water, where dozens of unlit lotus lanterns floated. Young men and women sat in the lakeside pavilion, passing decorated slips of paper from table to table. Whoever drew a slip had to compose a poem on its theme or answer its question.

Qin Zhaoye sat at the front with Liu Hanyan.

I had meant to find Madam Xu, whom I knew, but the countess drew me aside. She praised my floral water and asked whether I could help arrange a flower-viewing party the following month.

We were discussing prices when cheers suddenly rose by the lake.

Liu Hanyan had drawn a slip bearing the theme “An Outing with an Old Friend.”

After thinking for a long time with her head bowed, she looked shyly at Qin Zhaoye.

He took the brush from her and wrote a few lines on the paper.

Someone laughed.

“Lord Qin and Miss Liu seem very close. Have you known each other long?”

Liu Hanyan's ears reddened. Qin Zhaoye didn't deny it.

“We studied together when we were young.”

I listened to them trading remarks, my teacup in my hand, and didn't even notice when the tea went cold.

Then someone asked, “Where is Lady Qin sitting?”

Qin Zhaoye looked toward me.

All he had to say was, “That is my wife,” and the moment would have passed.

Instead, after a brief pause, he smiled.

“She doesn't care for crowds.”

The pavilion fell silent.

Even the rustle of paper nearby stopped.

Liu Hanyan seemed to realize something was wrong and hastily added, “Ah Heng is my cousin—and Zhaoye's wife.”

She spoke quickly, as though coming to my rescue.

But the looks around us only grew more telling.

Their intimacy was still fresh in everyone's mind. Her explanation made me seem all the more like an intruder.

I handed my cup to a maid and followed the railing out toward the lake.

Qin Zhaoye rose to stop me.

“Ah Heng, don't read too much into it. I only wanted to keep people from making an issue of Hanyan's circumstances.”

“My cousin is a widow, and you've been composing poetry with her. You've already given people something to talk about.” I looked at him. “When you wouldn't acknowledge me as your wife just now, it seemed more as though you were afraid I'd get in the way of something.”

He frowned. “You know that isn't what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean? Could you tell me plainly?”

My questions tried his patience. He lowered his voice.

“She has just lost her husband, and the capital is full of gossip. You're her cousin. What would it cost you to give way a little?”

I nodded.

I slipped the jade bracelet from my wrist.

My mother had given it to me as part of my dowry. Qin Zhaoye had once said it suited me.

I laid it in his palm, then unfastened the key to the main courtyard from my waist.

“Since you're so concerned for her, the Waterside Pavilion really is rather inconvenient. The main courtyard has more room. Here are the accounts, the keys, and the list of servants.”

His expression changed. “What scene are you making now?”

The wind off the lake stirred the silk at my shoulder.

I looked at the unlit lotus lanterns and smiled faintly.

“I'm not sulking. I'm simply giving you what you asked me to give up. Since you're so determined to look after my cousin, you can both have the main courtyard, the servants, and the household accounts. However you choose to live after this, you needn't ask whether it pleases me.”

Someone in the pavilion drew a sharp breath.

Liu Hanyan stood motionless. The paper slipped from her hand into the lake, where the ink quickly blurred.

Qin Zhaoye caught my wrist.

“Ruan Heng, explain yourself.”

I pulled free.

“I've been perfectly clear. If the main courtyard isn't enough, I have a divorce agreement ready as well. We can take it to the magistrate's office tomorrow.”

4.

Back at the residence that night, I ordered my belongings moved to the little eastern courtyard.

When Qin Zhaoye followed me inside, two stout serving women were carrying out my jars of floral water.

He blocked the doorway, his face as dark as an approaching storm.

“You humiliated me in front of all those people. What do you want?”

I sat beside a wooden chest, checking the account books, and didn't look up.

“Something you can't give me.”

“Don't threaten me with divorce.” He struggled to contain his anger. “Hanyan has only been here a few days, and you've found fault with everything. You never used to be like this.”

I put a roll of property deeds into a box before looking up at him.