Chapter 30: The Qixi Festival (2)

Seeing Qin Mu’s anxiety, Concubine Ping felt a pang of pity. She couldn’t help but stroke his head and soothe him: "Don't worry, little Mu. Although your mother has never been to the capital, she should understand how the ward gates work; she certainly wouldn't have wandered out of the residential districts. Besides, you told her to head east to find an inn; perhaps she simply hasn't found one yet and has taken shelter elsewhere."

The eastern side of the capital was filled with the residences of high-ranking officials, prince’s mansions, and noble estates. Their gates were locked tight, and they would not easily take in strangers. However, they did purchase maidservants under permanent, life-long contracts, leaving them to the mercy of their masters—subject to beatings and scoldings, with their very lives held in the hands of the household. If the An woman had panicked and fled there, it would be difficult for her to ever get out.

Concubine Ping could not say these things to the child before her. Qin Mu was only six; if he knew his mother had become a bondservant, he would surely kick up a fuss and demand her return.

Qin Mu blinked, his voice raspy: "Auntie Ping, could my mother have... could she have been abducted?"

Though his psychological age was twenty, he was trapped in the body of a six-year-old, with all his past memories flooding his mind. Having just seen his mother, only to watch her be separated from him again, he could not distinguish whether that memory was a dream or reality. If she were merely a maid, it would be one thing, but Qin Mu feared most that he might see her again in the dark, sordid districts of the pleasure houses.

Seeing Qin Mu about to cry, Concubine Ping pulled him into her arms and began to weep herself. At forty, she had no children of her own, and her heart ached for this boy who had lost his mother at such a tender age, and whose identity had been stripped from that of an eldest son by a concubine to that of a cast-aside orphan—even his own ancestors had abandoned him. Once the Lady Sun entered the household, there was no telling what changes would occur, and his future would inevitably be one of displacement and hardship.

Yet, as a mere concubine of the Tang family, she could barely protect herself, and no amount of sympathy would be of any use. She could only try her best to comfort the child.

"Little Mu, Auntie will help you look for her. But you must not speak of this to anyone, not even your great-aunt. If others find out, you will be forced to leave the capital and never see your mother again."

Concubine Ping did not dwell on the "abduction" Qin Mu mentioned; she had no way to prevent such things. For a woman to establish herself in a strange place, there were only so many paths—serving one man or serving many. For now, she had to keep Qin Mu steady and ensure that the Lady Qin and the Lady Liu did not become suspicious. She truly intended to help find his mother, though she knew it was like searching for a needle in an ocean; she had no idea how long it would take. Fortunately, the child was young; she could coax him for now, and in time, his urge to find her would naturally fade.

***

After comforting Qin Mu, Concubine Ping took out a book she had brought with her. Now that Qin Mu was confined to the courtyard and could go nowhere, he spent his days either brewing medicine for Lady Qin or sitting under the eaves in a daze, wasting his youth away. Concubine Ping chose the *Classic of Poetry* from her own collection, intending to teach him to read and write. Having something to do would surely help ease his longing for his mother.

Qin Mu felt a deep sense of regret regarding his lack of education. In his previous life, he had been a genuine six-year-old who knew only how to play. At that time, he did not know whether his Great-Grandfather Tang Pinshan even had a Concubine Ping, or if she existed but he simply had no contact with her, so no one had ever mentioned teaching him to read. Because he was spoiled and instigated by Lady Sun, he had been willful, deliberately refusing to study or write, which made his father, Tang Yushu, increasingly resent him, calling him the "base-born child of a base woman" and finding the sight of him repulsive. After Lady Qin died, he was expelled from the Tang estate, and by the time he wanted to learn, there was no opportunity left; until his death, he could only write his own name. Unable to be a clerk and lacking any skill or talent, he could only wander the streets, listening to his half-brother, who excelled in poetry and prose, become a celebrated young talent in the capital.

Now, with Concubine Ping to guide him, he resolved to strive for that reputation of a scholar, earn a rank, and restore his mother to her rightful place with dignity. He also vowed to settle the score with Lady Sun and Lady Liu, who had set the trap to separate him from his mother just to marry Tang Yushu. He would make them kneel before him—the concubine’s son they had trampled into the mud—and beg for mercy.

From that day on, Qin Mu began learning to write with Concubine Ping and ceased mentioning his mother.

Time flew until the Qixi Festival. That day, Qiu Shui carried a trunk and hurried to the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, the busiest spot in the city. After several days of day-and-night labor by the seamstress, ten of the simplest camisole dresses had been tailored, along with ten sleep dresses featuring lace-trimmed bustiers. This was the first shipment, and Qiu Shui wanted to deliver it personally to Mother Qin at the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, hoping for a grand opening.

The effect was exactly as she had hoped. The girls, dressed in lace camisole dresses under the lanterns, postured and posed; their bare arms and legs, skin white as snow, were made even more captivating by the semi-transparent gauze. It was far more soul-stirring than the old-fashioned bustiers and undergarments. Mother Qin was a shrewd woman; she had already seen the power of the lace bustiers and knew that having the girls in her establishment wear these unique dresses on Qixi night would surely leave the patrons stunned and spellbound. Without even asking the price, Mother Qin made a snap decision to buy everything Qiu Shui had brought, intending to stage a surprise performance where the winning girl would be awarded to the highest bidder.

As the late-night grand finale of songs and dances began in the bustling Hundred Flowers Pavilion, several courtesans had already changed into the black lace camisole dresses.

***

After the performance ended, the bidding soared to historical heights. The camisole dresses had undoubtedly dropped a depth charge into the capital's pleasure industry, and ripples would soon be felt even within the walls of the noble estates.

Inside the brothel, the colorful lanterns dazzled, the beauties fluttered, and the men were whipped into a frenzy, howling and cheering.

Throughout the capital, candlelight flickered as young ladies gathered in spacious gardens to pray to the moon. They lit colorful lanterns by the water to bring hope, hoping to secure a good marriage—ideally to a clean, gentle, and pure-hearted young man.

A stage had been erected in the Yue Lake, where the singing was melodious and the *bangzi* percussion was rhythmic and nuanced. The troupe had been specially hired to perform auspicious plays—tales of lovers meeting on the Magpie Bridge or wandering in the Peony Pavilion—perfectly capturing a young woman's longing for a beautiful marriage. The water pavilion was packed with people.

A group of elaborately dressed young ladies, surrounded by maids and matrons, were placing the *qiaoguo* (Qixi pastries) they had brought onto the offering table, preparing for the upcoming ritual.

Tang Yuexi, wearing a brand-new light purple silk dress and pearl hairpins, stood to the side holding a food box, looking stiff and miserable, her eyes red and on the verge of tears. Just moments ago, she had placed her food box on the table, only to be scolded and told to remove it: "What is this? How dare you put such a thing on the table!"

The one who spoke was a young lady in a magnificent gown, wearing a jade hairpin. Looking at the colorful cakes Tang Yuexi had just set down, she said with disdain: "We all used milk cakes and honey to make moon-rabbits. Who uses such ugly things? It’s disgusting to look at!"

It was no wonder she looked down on them; the *qiaoguo* displayed by the other young ladies were all snow-white, glistening rabbits. Their eyes were inlaid with red jade, and their fur was piled with cream; they were less like pastries and more like gold-and-jade-encrusted ornaments.

Scolded in front of everyone, fourteen-year-old Tang Yuexi’s face turned bright red. At a loss, she couldn't help but look toward Sun Ruyi, who had brought her to Yue Lake, hoping she might intervene. But Sun Ruyi was busy fawning over a haughty young lady and hadn't noticed her at all.

Ever since she learned she would be accompanying Sun Ruyi to the Yue Lake pavilion, Tang Yuexi had been excited for two whole days. She was about to begin her life as a noble lady of the capital and would no longer have to mingle with the daughters of low-ranking clerks. She had fallen in love with the floating-cloud silk dress her mother had bought with a small fortune, and in her mind, she had rehearsed the compliments she would receive countless times. But that good mood had lasted only until she boarded the Sun family’s carriage, and seeing Sun Ruyi’s cold, indifferent attitude toward her, Tang Yuexi realized how awkward her situation truly was.