With Yun Sheng’s arrest, the Prime Minister’s mansion had fallen into chaos. The great tree had toppled and the monkeys scattered; even the kitchen staff had fled. For a time, the matriarch could barely be fed.
After returning to the capital, Yun Xi moved quickly to restore order. She had every servant who’d signed indenture with the household rounded up and dragged back—then publicly punished them, deliberately and harshly.
She left them two clear options. Either stay and be forgiven for any attempted escapes, or buy their freedom with the proper silver; refuse, and she would hand them over to the authorities.
In calmer days she might have been gentler. But those who had lived off the mansion had not been badly treated. Yet when the house fell into peril, so many betrayed it—some even stole from the household before running. If Yun Xi did not make a stand now, such disgrace would repeat itself the next time the mansion hit hard times.
She had to change the house’s habits. Everyone needed to understand that their fates were tied: when the mansion rose, they rose; when it fell, they fell. Even if they scattered to the ends of the earth, as long as the mansion endured they remained bound to it. Only unity would see them through.
The meals on the table grew plainer and then richer; the matriarch understood why, though the sight of the food did little to stir her appetite.
“Madam, please try to eat something. The miss insisted—she wants you to recover your strength before the master returns and worries.” Madam Zhang watched the old woman push her bowl away and frowned. She softened her voice, coaxing.
The blow to the household had hit the matriarch hardest. Once sharp-tongued and exacting, she had grown uncharacteristically quiet. Her hair had gone more than half white, the hollows beneath her eyes deepening her age. Even Madam Zhang felt sorry when she looked at her.
The old woman shook her head and sighed. “Madam Zhang, call Yun Xi here. I have something to say to her.”
Madam Zhang glanced at the dimming sky outside and hesitated. “Now, madam? Right away?”
“Now.” The matriarch’s voice was firm, urgent. She feared that if she delayed, she would lose the chance.
“Very well. I’ll fetch her.” Madam Zhang rose and left.
The old woman let out a breath once the door shut. She had always hated Yun Xi—because Yun Xi’s mother had been a merchant, and the child’s presence constantly reminded her of past humiliation. She had deliberately ignored Yun Xi’s existence, even tolerated Jiang’s scheming to drive her away from the mansion.
Now, faced with the ruin heaped on her house, she felt the weight of her folly. Without Yun Xi there to hold the façade together, the mansion would have been left with only an old woman to be bullied and trampled upon.
Guilt flooded her. By the time Yun Xi entered she was wiping at her eyes.
“What is it? Who’s upset you?” Yun Xi asked, surprised and instinctively frowning at the sight of the matriarch crying. Since the disaster, the old woman had been taciturn, and while Yun Xi did not lean on every mood of hers, she could not help being moved at times. She had not the heart to be as indifferent as the matriarch once was.
“Sit here.” The matriarch waved her over and, when Yun Xi came nearer, reached for her hand. “I must speak to you face to face.”
Yun Xi hesitated a moment before sitting down a little apart, not taking the offered hand. “If there’s something you want to say, please go ahead.”
The hand raised and then withdrawn left the matriarch feeling oddly hollow. She knew her past cruelty toward Yun Xi had been cruel—too late for reparation. She no longer had the right to demand closeness. Still, looking at Yun Xi’s striking face, she saw with a clarity that had not been there before: the little girl who had once hidden in her courtyard begging for warmth had grown into a woman. Time had slipped away, and with it her chance to undo what she had done.
“Yun Xi,” she began, voice trembling, “I have come to apologize—truly and wholly.”
Yun Xi froze. Such words from someone so proud, so stubborn, were almost impossible to imagine.
The matriarch pressed on. “I was blind and cruel to you and your mother. I allowed Jiang to stay in the manor and I invited ruin into this house…I regret it every day. I know it is late, but I had to tell you: I am sorry.”
Her apology was sincere to the point of breaking her voice. Yun Xi stared at her, stunned into silence. If her mother were alive, she would likely have forgiven the old woman readily—her mother had been kind, magnanimous, never keeping resentment. Yun Xi could not pretend to be her.
“Your apology I will accept on behalf of my mother,” Yun Xi said at last, calm but edged. “But I will not forgive you. I want you to understand that.”
There was no anger in the matriarch’s face at those words—only quiet acceptance. She inclined her head.
“I know. I know.” She had been offered many chances to reconcile and had driven Yun Xi away each time. If she were in Yun Xi’s place, she would not expect forgiveness either. Still, there were things that needed to be said.
“Your father is imprisoned in Zhao’s jail, and his fate is uncertain. The mansion could be finished off at any moment. I have only one request of you, and I beg you to grant it.” The matriarch gathered herself, pushing up from her cushion, eyes pleading as she gripped Yun Xi’s arm.