Among those trained in the martial arts, Xiao Nanhui’s hearing was not particularly outstanding, but she was always sensitive to voices she had heard before.
Amidst the approaching cacophony of voices, she clearly distinguished a voice she had encountered only moments ago.
"Madam, please go no further. The Fourth Miss has no sense of restraint. If something were to happen to you, even ten thousand of my lives would not be enough to atone for it..."
Well, then. This one had barely finished lodging a complaint here before running off to beat the drum of grievance at another’s gate.
Xiao Nanhui loathed being used above all else. Seeing this play unfold, a spark of nameless fury rose within her, but it was checked by the heavy, low resonance of an unfamiliar female voice.
"I should like to see for myself who is so arrogant at such a tender age as to treat people as less than human. If she is allowed to have her way now, she will surely be riding over the head of the legal wife in the future."
Nanhui leaned toward the window lattice and looked out. About seven or eight women stood in the courtyard, all of them female. Among them were two of the Yan Manor’s young misses and a secondary consort. Aside from two handmaidens and the sobbing wash-maid from before, there were two others who looked unfamiliar.
One of these two had streaks of white in her hair, which was combed into a slick, polished bun; she had the air of a governess-nanny from the palace who taught etiquette. The woman beside her was only partially visible, a golden *buyao*—a step-shake hairpin—nestled in her hair. Her attire was dignified and exquisite, the colors deep and somber, as if flaunting an unspoken difference in status.
"And who are those two? I haven't seen them in the manor before."
"They're from outside."
Mo Chunhua’s words were somewhat evasive, but Xiao Nanhui’s attention was fixed on the figures outside the door, so she didn't take much notice.
"From outside? Even those from outside dare to meddle in another family's backyard? Their faces must be quite broad and their hands quite long to be so lacking in decorum."
Mo Chunhua gave a couple of sheepish laughs, her voice dropping even lower.
"Just let her sit there. Once the sun sets, she’ll naturally go back."
Xiao Nanhui finally sensed the sudden cowardice emanating from the person behind her. She turned her head in confusion.
"It’s only noon; there are at least four hours until dusk. They’ve marched right to your doorstep to curse you to your face. You were brave enough to swing your fists earlier, so why don't you dare to talk back now?"
Mo Chunhua avoided Xiao Nanhui’s gaze, using two fingers to twist a stray lock of hair on her forehead.
"It’s not a matter of daring or not daring. It’s just that sometimes... there’s no need to invite that kind of filth onto oneself."
Xiao Nanhui watched the person beside her—who just moments ago had been bristling with aggression and a 'dead pig unafraid of boiling water' attitude—suddenly turn cautious and moderate. She found it difficult to adjust to the change.
"I thought you hadn't made much progress since coming to Quecheng, but have you suddenly seen the light?"
"I don't care about myself, but I worry for my mother." A flash of frankness appeared on Mo Chunhua’s face, though her voice remained low. "After all, Old Yan can't be relied upon, and there’s no one else to help me."
Xiao Nanhui was momentarily speechless.
"Truly a creature raised without father or mother, a bully who fears the strong. She didn't look like this when she was hitting people, yet now she’s turned into such a coward..."
The biting words of the women continued to drift in from the courtyard. Xiao Nanhui looked at the silent Mo Chunhua. Her skin was still that honeyed hue, her hair faded from years of exposure to the sun and wind, and her fingers were thickened and deformed from heavy labor. The gem-encrusted archer's ring she wore looked stiflingly bloated upon her hand.
Even living beneath eaves carved with dragons and phoenixes, draped in silk and adorned with jade bracelets, Mo Chunhua seemed to transform back into that girl in coarse clothes from the Southern Qiang in an instant.
This was the first time Xiao Nanhui had witnessed firsthand the schemes and infighting that usually only existed in Dujuan’s gossip, and she found it chilling.
Mo Chunhua was, after all, a daughter of the Yan Manor. Yet simply because of her low birth, she was subjected to constant barbs, tests, and malicious speculation. Now, should she make even the slightest mistake, there were plenty of spectators eager for the show, but not a single soul truly willing to protect her.
Inexplicably, Nanhui thought of herself.
She had never known her cold-hearted parents for as long as she could remember. Before meeting Xiao Zhun, the only person who could protect her was herself.
Though her younger self hadn't known what parents were, she at least knew that the children who lived well all had them. During those countless nights of hunger and cold, she too had prayed to the heavens to give her a father or a mother.
She had believed that as long as one had parents, one would not be bullied.
Looking at it now, she had been too naive.
If one were saddled with a family like Mo Chunhua’s, it was no different from being an orphan with dead parents and no kin to turn to.
Why did they have to be treated this way? Why?
If no one else would care, she would.
As if sensing her thoughts, Mo Chunhua hurriedly spoke.
"Don't get involved in this..."
Before the sentence was half-finished, Mo Chunhua turned to find that Xiao Nanhui was no longer standing there.
In the courtyard, the group of women was chirping away in condemnation when a loud *clatter* rang out. A tall woman dressed in short-sleeved martial attire pushed the door open and stepped out, reaching them in a few strides.
"Xiao Nanhui of the Qinghuai Marquis Manor greets you all."
After performing a formal salute, Xiao Nanhui straightened her back and looked directly at the woman in the ornate robes and golden hairpins.
With a single glance, she realized the woman was not as old as she had imagined—not even as old as Aunt Dai. Her features were quite delicate, but she was dressed as a married woman in clothing that was far too heavy and archaic. The golden *buyao* on her head was excessively lavish and ostentatious, giving off a distinct air of vulgarity.
"I have given my name. May I ask which manor’s lady this is? And why is there such a clamor before my friend’s door?"
The lady did not speak, appearing to size her up as well. It was the nanny beside her who spoke first, her tone dripping with ill intent.
"There is no need for you to know our Madam’s name. This matter has nothing to do with the Marquis Manor. Just call out that ill-mannered girl; our Madam has words for her."
The woman spoke with an air of practiced intimidation, but such pressure was laughable to someone who had lived in the military and stood upon a battlefield.
Furthermore, when it came to being cryptic or overbearing, who could surpass the current Emperor?
She wasn't even afraid of the old Emperor; why would she fear a wicked servant who had popped up out of nowhere?
"If this matter has nothing to do with the Marquis Manor, then I fear it has nothing to do with the two of you either." Xiao Nanhui gave a cold snort, her words no longer polite. "I am a person of little talent, but I have had some friendship with General Yan in years past. Chunhua is the daughter of the Yan family and also my friend. By rank, Nanny should address her as Fourth Miss. You may dispense with the formal kowtow."
The nanny hadn't expected to run into such a hard nail. She was clearly incensed, but her face was a mask perfected over years of service, and she didn't let a single spark of it show.
At that moment, Mo Chunhua braced herself and walked out from the inner room. When the secondary consorts saw the protagonist arrive, they could hardly suppress the excitement of watching the drama unfold.
"This is Lady Bo. Even you, Miss Xiao, should be polite when speaking, lest you bring more trouble to your Marquis Manor. Wouldn't you agree?"
Lady Bo? Which Lady Bo?
Ignoring the sarcasm in the remark, Xiao Nanhui—who rarely mingled in the circles of the capital's nobility—felt a surge of doubt, though she kept her expression neutral. Mo Chunhua, however, had not spent her time in the city in vain and whispered the answer to her.
"A consort of the Xuanyuan Prince's Manor."
Xiao Nanhui was stunned.
This person was... Su Pingchuan’s legendary stepmother, the one whose status was supposedly rising because of her son? No wonder even a nanny by her side dared to bark orders like that; even Mo Chunhua had to show her some deference.
For some reason, Xiao Nanhui’s mood turned strange. In an instant, she seemed to understand something of Su Pingchuan’s circumstances, and a bit of cheap sympathy welled up within her.
Thinking of Mei Ruogu and then looking at the woman before her, Xiao Nanhui felt that Prince Xuanyuan must have been blind back then.
"So you are that General of the Right whom Chuan-er mentioned?"
Lady Bo spoke leisurely, her voice light and soft, as if she lacked the strength to speak. It was the kind of voice that made one’s skin crawl with irritation.
She was from the Xuanyuan Prince's Manor, after all. Xiao Nanhui suppressed her discomfort and replied cautiously.
"Greetings, Lady Bo. The position of General of the Right is a thing of the past; there is no need to mention it now."
It was a simple reply, but Lady Bo seemed to find it amusing, letting out a tittering laugh.
As she laughed, the golden *buyao* on her head swayed, the piercing glint of the gold making Nanhui feel restless and annoyed.
"Chuan-er has never mentioned a woman to his family before. You are the first." The laughter paused, and Lady Bo pursed her red lips slightly. "I wonder if you will be the last."
The words were both ambiguous and disgusting. The other women present understood the implication, and low laughter mingled with probing gazes began to surround Xiao Nanhui.
'Chuan-er' this, 'Chuan-er' that.
She wondered if Su Pingchuan were here right now, would he want to use that fine sword of his to run this cheap stepmother through?
As Xiao Nanhui thought these vicious thoughts, the woman spoke again.
"Miss Xiao’s name doesn't sound like a typical woman's name. I wonder which 'Nan' and which 'Hui' it is?"
"The 'Nan' of South, and the 'Hui' of the returning wild geese."
"A fine 'returning wild geese.' I have heard that the Marquis of Qinghuai places great trust in his foster daughter, even putting great effort into her name. Seeing you now, it seems true. Only... *Nanhui*. It sounds like 'hard to return.' The homophone makes the name sound rather inauspicious."
The woman trailed off with a look of feigned hesitation. Xiao Nanhui’s fists were already clenched.
In the next moment, the nanny beside Lady Bo suddenly spoke.
"When I first saw Miss Xiao today, I thought she looked familiar. That expression just now finally reminded this old servant of an old acquaintance."
Lady Bo slanted her gaze slightly, catching the look from her loyal servant. The smile on her face widened.
"Your old eyes haven't gone blurry yet. Now that you mention it, I also feel she bears a few points of resemblance to Ruogu. Perhaps that is what Chuan-er saw in her?"
Ruogu. Mei Ruogu.
The legal wife of Prince Xuanyuan, the General Feilian who died in the Battle of Sanmu Pass, and Su Pingchuan’s biological mother.
To gossip about the deceased behind closed doors was one thing, but to bring it into another family’s courtyard was another entirely. It was truly both stupid and wicked, a blatant display of malice.
Xiao Nanhui said coldly, "General Feilian served her country on the battlefield and achieved great military merit. Even the commanders of every camp must address her as General Feilian and would not dare call her by her given name."
The unspoken implication was: *Is the name Mei Ruogu something the likes of you can utter?*
The nanny, however, acted as if she didn't understand, putting on a show of exaggerated surprise.
"Oh, even that tone of voice is exactly the same. How glorious the Great Lady was when she was alive—so stern and imposing that we servants didn't dare look her in the eye. It’s just a pity she was short-lived..."
Mo Chunhua, who had been silent until now, widened her eyes. Her previous reservations were cast to the winds as her coarse Lingxi dialect burst forth.
"Who are you calling short-lived?!"
Mo Chunhua’s roar was like a needle popping a balloon. The blatant malice could no longer be hidden and came pouring out in an instant.
"Oh, isn't this the Fourth Miss? As soon as she opens her mouth, it’s quite something. She’s so afraid people won't know where she came from that she insists on letting those filthy, tongue-twisting words out of her mouth. Aren't you afraid of being a laughingstock?"
Mo Chunhua was shaking with rage and about to step forward when Xiao Nanhui grabbed her with a swift hand, then fixed a steady gaze on the provocateur.
"The Lingxi dialect is the official tongue of the Jizhou region. Any soldier or officer who has been stationed there must know how to speak it. I have heard that General Yan Guang himself won the Emperor’s favor and was titled a Great General because of his authentic Lingxi accent. Nanny should be careful not to speak recklessly."
Xiao Nanhui’s rebuttal was fast and fierce, very much in the style of Yao Yi, though she knew in her heart whose true legacy she was channeling.
The nanny hadn't expected to have such a heavy accusation leveled at her and suddenly withered.
"Madam..."
Seeing that this round was lost, Lady Bo raised a hand to stop her servant’s aggrieved self-defense.
"This old woman of mine is of low birth and shallow experience. She cannot compare to a Great General who has campaigned across the north and south and seen the world. I only hope Miss Xiao will not blame us women who were born and raised within these walls. Just treat it as a joke."
With this bit of rambling, she made it seem as if Nanhui was the one being unreasonable.
The veins on Xiao Nanhui’s forehead throbbed. Unfortunately, the other woman outranked her, and she couldn't simply beat her up on the spot.
This was no chance encounter; they had clearly looked for an opportunity to find trouble. She just didn't know if they were after Mo Chunhua... or her.
The first chapter of Yao Yi’s Art of War: *When faced with those of ill intent, retreat with words.*
"I have military duties to attend to, so I shall not disturb you further. I take my leave." As she spoke, she pulled Mo Chunhua along. "There is no need for the rest of you to see me out; the Fourth Miss will suffice."
With that, Xiao Nanhui didn't look back, pulling Mo Chunhua quickly out of the courtyard.
The group of Yan Manor women, seeing that the excitement was over, felt somewhat disappointed.
"Coming and going as she pleases. How lack of decorum."
The wash-maid, who had been kneeling on the ground the whole time, suddenly came to her senses and timidly looked up at the owner of the red embroidered shoes with gold thread beside her.
"Madam, about my matter..."
*Slap!* A loud blow landed squarely on the little maid’s face, knocking the tears she hadn't yet retracted right out of her eyes.
"Shut up."
Lady Bo’s crimson lips were pressed into a thin line. After a moment, she regained her smiling composure.
"It is getting late. I shall head back now."
She rose gracefully and, supported by the nanny, walked out with a dignified posture and slow steps.
The women of the Yan Manor followed her in a bustling crowd, leaving only the little maid clutching her face, slumped on the ground. From beginning to end, no one spared her a second glance.
***
Once they were out of the courtyard, Xiao Nanhui let go, but Mo Chunhua gripped her arm like she was possessed.
Even though they had reached the back gate, Mo Chunhua’s eyes were still shining as if she had just downed three jars of Cloud-Leaf Fresh.
"How was my performance just now?"
Xiao Nanhui paused, then said honestly, "It would have been better if you hadn't spoken at all."
Mo Chunhua was indignant. "How do you Chizhou people say it? You're... burning the bridge after crossing it! If you hadn't provoked that woman from the Xuanyuan Prince's Manor, I wouldn't have had to step in. I actually think I have a bit of talent for this; there’s some fun to be had in all this bickering. You should come back another day and try again..."
*Try your head.*
Xiao Nanhui felt like she was talking to a wall. She waved her hand and slipped out the door, giving one last warning before she left.
"Today’s matter will likely leave a handle for them to use. It’s not convenient for me to come often, so you must be careful..."
Mo Chunhua was the type who could never listen to such nagging and slammed the door shut with a *thud*.
Staring at the bronze studs on the Yan Manor’s back gate for a moment, Xiao Nanhui rubbed her nose and turned to leave.
In the past, when she visited the Yan family, she always came and went through the main entrance. Now, stepping over the threshold onto the alleyway facing the back gate, she suddenly realized the place looked familiar.
After a moment’s hesitation, she moved toward the mouth of the alley.
Only a few dozen paces away, she saw the tree.
It was an old golden camellia, planted so many years ago that they were beyond counting. Scars were gnarled across its thick trunk, but this year’s new greenery was already pushing through the tips of the branches, revealing tiny buds in the cold wind.
In another month or so, it would be her birthday.
Her birthday was not actually the day she was born, but the day she first arrived in Quecheng.
At that time, she was not much taller than the weathered stone posts in front of the city gates. A tiny person with a face that had seen too much hardship, her entire body wrapped in thick cloth, leaving only two timid eyes visible.
She had been lifted down from the horse and held firmly by the young man’s hand. She listened as he told stories of the city in the gentlest of voices, following him through the flowing crowds of carriages and pedestrians, through the bustling shops of the districts, and through the time and space that seemed to freeze in that moment.
In truth, she hadn't known how to speak the Chizhou dialect then, and of course, she couldn't understand what he was saying. But as long as she heard his voice, she felt at peace.
The young man had stopped with her at the end of a long, wide street. There was a haphazardly built flower bed there, and in the center was an old tree covered in golden-yellow flowers. A few vendors were gathered beneath the tree selling sugar cakes. Occasionally, a petal of gold would drift down from the branches and land on a cake—a bright, golden speck that was very beautiful.
She stared at the sugar cakes, but the young man looked up at the tree, then suddenly turned and smiled at her.
"Why don't we make today your birthday?"
She smiled and nodded.
No matter what he said, she would always smile and nod.
The young man leaped up nimbly, and in the space of a breath, he had something in his hand. Then, he tucked the gold he had plucked from the lush camellia tree behind her ear.
She stood frozen, not daring to move, and only after a long moment did she catch a hint of a sweet, fresh scent.
It was the fragrance of flowers.
And she, who had grown up on parched, sandy soil, had never smelled a flower before that day.
"This is the golden camellia. You can only see it at this time of year."
This time, she looked at him blankly, seemingly dazed by the strange yet alluring scent beneath her nose.
The young man laughed, then leaned down and reached out to gently tap her ear.
"Golden camellia."
"Golden camellia..."
She murmured the words after him.
That was the first word she learned after "eat" and "sleep."
From that day on, whenever the golden camellias were about to bloom, she knew her birthday was approaching.
On her birthday, she would eat spicy noodles, go to Yongye Temple with Xiao Zhun to admire the flowers, and return to the manor to drink wine and watch the moon.
But she never knew Xiao Zhun’s birthday.
Ever since the tragedy of the Xiao family, Xiao Zhun never mentioned his own birthday, nor did he allow Dujuan or Uncle Chen to mention or celebrate it. Xiao Nanhui only vaguely knew it was in the autumn.
Whenever the autumn leaves began to fall, she would see Xiao Zhun standing in the courtyard, looking up at the branches that were about to turn bare.
To this day, she could still occasionally remember the sight of Xiao Zhun standing alone in the middle of a courtyard filled with fallen leaves, waiting until the very last leaf of autumn bid farewell to its branch.
From the day his family was slaughtered, day after day, year after year, the passage of time was perhaps only a form of torture for him.
But for Xiao Nanhui, from the day she left Lingxi and came to the Xiao Manor, every one of her birthdays was a celebration of gratitude and hope for a new life.
Like the vast distance between spring and autumn.
She troubled over this difference, yet from beginning to end, she could change nothing.
Xiao Nanhui looked back in the direction of the Yan Manor and suddenly felt a twinge of envy for Mo Chunhua’s troubles. Those troubles belonged to the present, while her own had lasted for more than a dozen springs and autumns.
In those countless distant memories of birthdays, in the quiet flow of the years, those flowers blooming at the end of spring had always carried a hint of sorrow.
The troubles of a spring flower are unknown to the autumn leaf.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 金步摇 | Golden buyao / Step-shake | A type of traditional Chinese dangling hairpin that sways as the wearer walks. |
| 侧室 | Consort / Side-chamber wife | A concubine or secondary wife. |
| 烜远王府 | Xuanyuan Prince's Manor | The residence of Prince Xuanyuan. |
| 薄夫人 | Lady Bo | A consort of Prince Xuanyuan and Su Pingchuan's stepmother. |
| 飞廉将军 | General Feilian | The posthumous or honorary title of Mei Ruogu. |
| 梅若骨 | Mei Ruogu | Su Pingchuan's late biological mother. |
| 金茶梅 | Golden Camellia | Literally "Golden Tea Plum," likely referring to *Camellia nitidissima* or a similar yellow camellia species. |
| 雁字回时 | When the wild geese return | A poetic phrase often used in literature, here referencing Nanhui's name. |
