Xie Yunxi stayed rooted where she was, watching Xie Fengran walk away before she finally looked up toward the gallery.
A girl in a pink silk dress peered down from there. Yunxi gave her a small nod and followed, then lowered her eyes to hide the sharp jealousy burning behind them.
Across from them, Xie Fengran had no respect for Yunxi’s manners, but she wasn’t about to make a spectacle that would sully the Xie household’s reputation. Even if she intended to decline the banquet, she wouldn’t gamble with the family name.
So when Yunxi caught up and hurried over, murmuring, “Thank you, sister—” Fengran pretended not to hear and went straight up the stairs.
“No sign of the second miss, Miss Xie?” someone called as Fengran stepped onto the gallery.
She turned to see the girl in pink—Wang Yahan, the daughter of the Minister of Works—standing there with a cool, searching gaze. Fengran recognized her and gave a curt nod. “She’s just behind me, Miss Wang.”
Wang Yahan wasn’t satisfied. Her tone sharpened. “Is that how Miss Xie treats her own sister? Leaving her to lag behind all alone?”
Fengran blinked once. “The stairs are narrow. I let her go up first—what’s the problem?”
That answer didn’t placate them. Wang stepped closer, eyes bright with accusation. “Is it the stairs that are narrow, or that you can’t bear a concubine-born sister in your sight? We all saw—Yunxi waited for you, but you scolded her until she cried and then left her. Why not settle it at home if there was an issue? Why make a show of your authority here in front of her?”
Her words prompted a chorus of agreement from the other girls. “Exactly. As the second miss, Yunxi deserves looking after. The eldest should be responsible.” “Who knows what sort of life’s made her meek—maybe she’s used to being pushed around.” “You wouldn’t even give your sister face in public; how could she be safe on her own in your own home?”
Fengran listened as they piled on and realized—they’d come to champion Yunxi. She glanced toward the top of the stair; a flash of green silk had just slipped past the landing. Her expression shifted. She hadn’t meant to start anything out here, but now that Yunxi was being used to blacken her name, she couldn’t stand aside. If this spread and sullied Miss Xie’s honor, how would her grandmother ever look at her again?
A faint, malicious pleasure crept into her voice. “It’s impressive—based on a moment’s glimpse you’ve all spun an epic of family discord. If you’re that bored, there are story-tellers in the teahouses to keep you busy. You lot might even earn a bride’s dowry with your performances instead of meddling in other people’s private affairs.”
“You compare us to teahouse story-tellers?” Wang Yahan and her companions flushed red with anger, pointing at Fengran but at a loss for words.
Fengran’s eyes narrowed slightly, bored by their outrage. She didn’t know how far her remark would spread, but she couldn’t help smirking when the green skirt at the stair’s mouth reappeared.
Before she could say more, a voice rang up from below. “Miss Xie Yunxi—what are you doing up there?”
The question turned every head to the stairwell. Wang, who had been silenced by Fengran’s jibe, felt the awkwardness bloom on her face. She scolded Yunxi silently, wondering why she hadn’t hidden herself better.
Yunxi climbed up, lifting her skirt with fumbling movements, and tried to smooth things over. “Miss Sun, I—I just came up.”
Sun Yuelan, who had followed Yunxi from below, noticed Xie Fengran standing on the landing and raised an eyebrow. “Fengran… why are you just standing there? Where are the servants? Why have you not shown Miss Xie a seat?”
The household servants crept out from the corners, warily, before Fengran cut them off. “Miss Sun, you misunderstand. A few of these ladies wanted to discuss the bonds between sisters in the Hou household and, in the moment, our little matter took over. We’ve made your banquet about ourselves—our apologies.”
Yunxi imitated Sun’s arched brow with a shy smile; for a heartbeat the two of them shared an unspoken understanding.
Sun’s face changed at once. She seized Yunxi’s hand and, with forced concern, asked, “Second Miss Xie has only just come up? Were you neglected by anyone here? Did someone push you or block your way in the garden? You look so tired—if someone did this to you, I won’t let them off.”
Yunxi hadn’t expected to be set on display like that. Her smile froze; Sun’s palm felt as if it were searing her. “Miss Sun—no one neglected me. I—”
“Good, good,” Sun said, letting go and turning to Fengran. “Eldest Miss Xie, you didn’t mistreat your sister, did you?”
Fengran’s earlier coldness evaporated; the nastiness that had made her ill just moments ago was gone. She forced a laugh and inclined her head. “Don’t worry. I’m not keeping score.”
For a moment it seemed the incident might end there, smoothed over by well-timed smiles and placating words. But Wang Yahan hadn’t forgiven Fengran’s insult so easily. If she let this pass, her pride would be reduced to fodder for the very teahouse storytellers Fengran had mocked.
“Miss Sun,” Wang said, voice sharpening again, “don’t be fooled by Miss Xie’s words. It’s an act of sympathy. Miss Yunxi—tell us truly: has your sister bullied you?”
All eyes swung toward Xie Yunxi. Between the friend who had just wrapped an arm around her and the sister smiling on the landing, everyone wanted to know which side she would take.