Chapter 5 — Homecoming

Father's carriage stood just beyond the second gate, where a handful of young servants were busy hauling things inside. Father, in a straight-cut robe of deep blue Hangzhou silk woven with iris patterns, a gray squirrel-fur greatcoat thrown over his shoulders, stood by the carriage like a jade tree in the wind, deep in conversation with Gao Sheng.

At the sound of footsteps, he turned, a faint smile on his face — handsome and elegant as a clear breeze under a bright moon.

Dou Yan's heart caught for a moment.

She knew her father was good-looking.

But she had never seen this father before.

In her memory, Father was always faintly frowning; even when he laughed heartily, there lingered in his brow a gloom that would not dissolve. Especially when he gazed at her in silence — his eyes unmoving, like an ancient well a thousand years old, chilling her to the bone.

Not like this — young, handsome, radiant, like a carefree youth, warming the heart at a glance.

"Shouyuan," Father's beaming face appeared before her, "Papa's home, and you don't even call out to me!" He reached out to pinch Dou Zhiwei's nose.

Dou Yan instinctively turned her head away, dodging her father's hand.

Father paused, then laughed it off without taking offense. From the carriage behind him he drew out a pinwheel, blew on it until it whirred noisily, and held it up before her: "Papa bought this for you in the capital. Isn't it fun?"

If she were truly a child, she would have been overwhelmed by the pinwheel, but she was already the mother of three, the one who bought pinwheels to coax her own children — how could she possibly take any notice of it?

Dou Yan craned her neck to peer into the carriage.

Mother, however, flushed red, gazing at Father with tenderness, and said in a voice half coy, half reproachful: "As long as you've come home safe, why buy us anything at all? We have everything at home."

"That's different!" Father took Dou Yan from Mother's arms. "I bought these specially for you in the capital."

Mother's face grew redder still, as though she had drunk aged Shaoxing wine, her eyes growing misty.

Dou Yan twisted sideways, trying to pull back the carriage curtain, but with her small body and short arms she could not reach it.

Father noticed her intent, gave her bottom a gentle pat, and set her up on the carriage: "What are you looking for?"

Dou ignored him and burrowed straight into the carriage.

The carriage was laid with thick quilts, upon which several classics such as Annotated Four Books had been tossed carelessly. In the corner stood a tea warmer; lifting its lid revealed a purple-clay loop-handled pot.

Beyond that, there was nothing else.

Dou Yan stood inside the carriage, looking around in bewilderment.

Could her memory be wrong?

Or perhaps... what Tuoniang had said was not the truth at all!

※※※※※

Having just returned from a long journey, Father's first order of business was naturally to pay his respects to Grandfather.

Mother made the excuse of arranging a family banquet and returned to the main quarters, summoning every serving woman on duty there into the hall.

"Which one of you wretched creatures told the girl those filthy words? Step forward this instant!" She slammed the table in a fury. "If I have to point her out myself, it won't be a matter of being sent to the outer courtyard or docked a few months' wages! I'll report it to the Old Master, call in the broker, and sell her off to some backwater village where she'll never taste a steamed bun of fine flour again as long as she lives!"

A dead silence fell over the room.

The teacups on the table rattled from the force of her fury: "Fine! Not one of you will step forward. You think I can't find out? The girl is barely of age, can't even speak clearly, and you put her up to spouting nonsense before me. If she were a few years older, you'd have corrupted her entirely..."

Dou Yan sat on the heated brick bed in the inner chamber of the main quarters, attended by a young maid, and sighed from time to time.

It had been her own idea — who would ever jump up and confess?

But Dou Yan did not speak up for the serving women.

She was now a child who could barely string a sentence together; to Mother's mind, a baseless tale like "Father brought a woman home" must surely have been taught to her by the servants at her side. If she defended them, Mother would only grow more convinced that someone harbored ill intent, and the women would find it all the harder to escape blame.

She asked the young maid beside her: "What's... your name?" Her throat still felt blocked; she could not get out a whole sentence.

The maid, flattered and flustered, answered eagerly: "Replying to the Fourth Miss, this servant is called Xiangcao."

She said: "I want... Tuoniang!"

The maid's eyes went wide with curiosity: "Who is Tuoniang?"

Dou Yan was struck dumb.

Someone announced in a loud voice: "Seventh Madam, the Seventh Master has returned."

A stir arose outside.

Mother, a note of tension in her voice, instructed: "Yu Momo, take the servants from the Fourth Miss's rooms back first. The Fourth Miss will be staying with me tonight. The rest of you — go about your business."

An aged voice answered respectfully: "Yes."

Then came another stir.

Before long, Mother came in with a radiant smile, accompanying Father.

Seeing Dou Yan sitting dumbly on the bed, Father smiled and patted her head: "What's gotten into this child today?"

Her mother, unwilling to tell her husband that Dou Yan had been prompted by someone else, gave a vague smile and said, "She must have worn herself out playing. She will be fine in a little while."

Her father did not press the matter further.

The maids came in bearing water and fragrant soap, and her mother helped her father wash his face and change his clothes. Dou Yan was carried off by a maid, washed and dressed, and then they all went together to her grandfather's quarters.

Her grandfather lived on the western side of the compound. Because of the plaque inscribed "Crane and Longevity Together" hanging in the central hall, the place was called the Hall of Crane and Longevity.

In front of the Hall of Crane and Longevity stood a pond and a rockery; behind it grew wisteria and flowering trees. It was the finest spot in the whole household.

In Dou Zhiwei's memory, she had been to the Hall of Crane and Longevity only twice. Once was at the age of nine, when her grandfather passed away; in accordance with his will, the mourning hall was set up there, and she had returned for the funeral. The other time was when she came back for the ceremony marking the end of mourning for him.

Both occasions had been noisy and chaotic, and she had not even had the chance to take a careful look at the Hall of Crane and Longevity.

Now, returning to it in her dream, she clung to her mother's shoulder and gazed all around.

The pond was frozen over, the rockery blanketed in snow, the trees stripped bare, the wisteria nothing but withered stems. Yet for all its bleakness, the elegant layout lent it a clear, bright charm that could not be concealed.

She found herself nodding inwardly.

No wonder the old Hanlin scholars of the capital, whenever they spoke of her grandfather, praised his brilliance.

It was a pity her grandfather had no patience for officialdom; before he was even thirty, he had resigned his post and returned home to become a country gentleman.

Amid these wandering thoughts, they arrived at the gate of the Hall of Crane Song.

A woman still striking in her mature beauty greeted them with a smile and ushered them inside.

Dou Yan stared at the lovely woman, eyes fixed and unblinking.

How had she come to dream of Aunt Ding?

If she was going to dream, she ought to have dreamed of her grandmother!

After all, she had grown up at her grandmother's side from childhood.