Si Hongxi stepped forward. “Miss Wanruo, the banquet is about to begin. Shall we go?”
Wanruo stared for a moment, clutching the jade hairpin in her hand, then blinked back to herself. “Ah—yes.”
Si Hongxi fell into step beside her, guiding her gently. Across the courtyard Bai Chen’s eyes narrowed the instant he saw them together; something cold flashed through his gaze.
So it was decided: Bai Chen and Wei Qingshan would go ahead to pay their respects to the Grand Dowager, while Wanruo and Si Hongxi took their places at the table.
On the way, the maid Biyu rushed over. She saw her mistress limping and panic flitted across her face as she hurried to inspect the foot. “Miss, what happened? Is your foot—let me see. If Master didn’t notice you got hurt, he’ll be furious. If he finds out, he’ll be beside himself!”
Wei Qingshan patted Biyu’s hand to calm her. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll explain to my father myself. Oh, and introduce yourself—this is Master Bai. He helped me; he’s the reason my foot is better.”
“Master Bai!” Biyu said, bowing quickly. “Thank you for taking care of my lady.”
Wei Qingshan glanced at Bai Chen. “By the way—has Father already gone to see the Grand Dowager?”
“I just came from there,” Biyu replied. “But the Grand Dowager was resting, so the Chancellor wouldn’t disturb her. I heard you were arriving and hurried out to meet you. Master’s probably busy greeting guests right now.”
“Well, that’s settled then. The time’s nearly right. Let’s pay our respects first, then join the banquet.” Wei Qingshan squared her shoulders. “Come on.”
Biyu fretted. “Miss, your leg—perhaps we should go back and call a doctor. If Father knew—he’d be so heartbroken.”
“No.” Wei Qingshan’s tone was firm. “It’s a matter of etiquette. This is nothing—really. We’ll go.”
Bai Chen watched her with a small, private sympathy; Wei Qingshan’s stubbornness reminded him of Wanruo.
A servant announced at the Dowager’s chamber, “The Chancellor’s daughter and a young gentleman request an audience.”
“Let them in.”
Wei Qingshan and Bai Chen entered. Through the screen the room was dim and hard to make out.
“Wei Qingshan, daughter of the Chancellor, pays respects to the Grand Dowager,” Wei Qingshan said.
The Grand Dowager drew the curtain aside and rose. “I’ve heard much of the Chancellor’s daughter—refined, well-bred, graceful.” She smiled. “You’re even more delightful in person. Rise, child.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Wei Qingshan stood.
The Dowager’s eyes slid to the young man beside her—tall, composed, with an effortless bearing. “And this young gentleman is?”
Before Wei Qingshan could answer Bai Chen stepped forward. “I’m Bai Chen, proprietor of Shan’an House. It’s an honor to meet you, Grand Dowager.”
“Oh? The proprietor of Shan’an House,” the Dowager said, surprised. “I recall Xi’er mentioning you. I thought you might not make it—what a pleasant surprise.”
“Your Grace, I did have business, but I finished in time and came at once,” Bai Chen replied politely.
The Dowager nodded, pleased. “You truly are a man of presence, Master Bai. It’s better to see you once than hear of you a hundred times. My, my—what a lovely pair you make. A perfect match!” She laughed happily.
Wei Qingshan went rosy with embarrassment and a little thrill. She hadn’t expected to be praised like that, especially not beside someone like him. She barely managed to stammer, “G-Grand Dowager—no, it’s not like that. We—”
“Perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding. Miss Wei and I only just met.” Bai Chen’s voice cut in, cool and deliberate.
Hearing him so eager to clarify, Wei Qingshan felt a faint sting of disappointment. She echoed him, more timidly, “Yes, Grand Dowager, we just met.”
The Dowager chuckled. “No need to explain. I understand completely. …All right, the time is near. Take your seats; I shall come to the banquet shortly.”
Wei Qingshan left the room feeling awkward. The more she tried to explain, the murkier everything felt.
Outside, guests were already slipping into the open-air banquet. The weather was perfect—sunlight spilling across the grounds—so the hosts had chosen to hold the feast outdoors. A long scarlet carpet ran down the center, flanked by carved pillars and rows of seats for honored guests. The main seat sat at the top, with a separate, reserved place beside it—for Princess An Yao.
Somewhere in the rear garden, Qin Manman still hadn’t found Si Hongxi. She prowled through the flowers, glancing left and right, distracted and impatient. Not watching where she was going, she spun around and collided with someone, stumbling and collapsing to the ground.
Already in a foul mood from searching half a day, Qin Manman didn’t bother to look up. She spat, “Can’t you see where you’re going? Watch where you step!”
When she did finally look up she realized she’d knocked into two men old enough to be her father’s peers. One, clothed in deep blue, bristled. “How dare you speak like that. Do you know who you’re addressing?”
The other man, more easygoing and clearly from a wealthy family, took it in stride. “Ah—don’t worry about it. Although you knocked into me, you seem unhurt. That’s what matters.”
Qin Manman rose and dusted herself off, and by chance a jade bracelet flashed on her wrist. The indulgent gentleman’s expression tightened; the piece looked familiar. Qin Manman, seeing their fine clothes, sized them up instantly as well-to-do.
“What do you mean I knocked into you? You bumped me! I’m in pain—don’t tell me I’m fine!” she retorted.
The deep-blue-clad man was outraged. “Young lady, our host is being generous to overlook this. Yet you turn on us—such ingratitude!”
Before he could finish, the indulgent man raised a hand. “Miss, tell me—how would you like to settle this?”
Qin Manman’s mind raced. These men clearly weren’t short of funds. This was an opportunity—why let it pass? She hesitated a moment, then, with a practiced pout, held out one finger. “One hundred taels. That should cover medical costs.”
“Are you insane?” the indignant man blurted. “A doctor costs one hundred taels? Sir, she’s blatantly extorting us.”
Qin Manman bristled. “Don’t say that. Think it through—treatment, medicine, nutrition while she recovers, and compensation for distress… One hundred taels is more than reasonable.”
“All right,” the indulgent gentleman replied readily.
Hearing his quick agreement, the other man opened his mouth to protest, but the elder stopped him with a look. He continued, smiling. “I’ll give you the hundred taels—but there is one condition.”
Qin Manman’s eyes lit up at the word “agreed.” “What’s the condition?” she asked eagerly.