Chapter 1
Ailin
Visiting the house of a merchant while disguised as a servant was certainly not proper for the eldest daughter of a respected scholarly family.
But the alternative for Duan Ailin was trying to sell paintings at Chen Manor while dressed as herself, and she could not risk the disgrace of being recognized.
In Ailin’s arms, under layers of cloth and paper boxes, were artworks hand-painted by her father. They were more precious than jade, for while jade could be mined from dirt, Father would never rise out of his grave to hold a brush again.
The patriarch of the Chen house was Father’s closest friend, a man Ailin had always called Uncle Chen despite sharing no kinship ties.
Most likely, Uncle Chen would not judge Ailin for trying to sell her late father’s paintings, but if others found out how desperate she was for money, the Duan family would lose face.
Ailin shook her head to clear away her pessimistic thoughts and knocked on the brightly painted front gate of Chen Manor.
Her peach-colored cotton dress and servant-like twin hair buns differed enough from her usual white mourning hemp and ribboned hair loops that her identity should be obscured.
Furthermore, she had a purpose here. While it was generally frowned upon for unmarried young ladies to appear in public, necessity overruled propriety.
Yesterday, several of the Duan family’s oldest servants had been dismissed from employment by Fan Fulan, Ailin’s older sister-in-law and the new mistress of the family’s finances.
Fulan said that reducing staff was necessary to lower household expenses following Father’s expensive funeral rites.
However, Fulan also announced that her younger brother was coming to visit within days, making Ailin wonder whether the staff dismissals were truly motivated by frugality or rather a desire to clear space for her brother.
Regardless of Fulan’s motivation, Ailin could not sit by and do nothing.
One of the servants sent away had been Nurse Liu, Mother’s most trusted maid and the woman who had helped raise Ailin and her two younger sisters. Nurse Liu’s departure felt like losing a pillar of their house, opening the question of when the roof would come crashing down.
What was worse, the elderly woman had been sent away with barely enough funds to travel back to her hometown, hardly the comfortable retirement she deserved after years of loyal service.
Mother, whose health was already delicate since Father’s passing, had neither slept nor eaten since Nurse Liu left. For both Nurse Liu and Mother’s well-being, Ailin had to intervene, even if knocking on Uncle Chen’s door was the most nerve-racking thing she had ever done of her own volition.
“Are you sure about this, miss?” Begonia asked gently. The young maid had been in the family for years, and she seemed to sense the emotions battling beneath Ailin’s outwardly calm surface. She waited patiently for an answer while holding half of Father’s paintings and a couple umbrellas.
The truth was that Ailin didn’t want to sell Father’s paintings, but she owned nothing else of value. Once she secured funds for Nurse Liu’s retirement, Mother might begin to eat and rest again.
Ailin stood straighter. As the eldest daughter, she was experienced in feigning confidence she did not feel. “Of course I’m sure. Leave everything to me.”
An elderly manservant in dark-brown silk robes opened the door. It spoke volumes about the Chen family’s wealth that even their servants could afford to wear silk. The old man squinted at the two girls. “What business do you have here?”
Ailin smiled politely. “Please tell Master Chen that little Ailin is here to see him about a matter of business.”
“Little Ailin?” The old man’s grizzled eyebrows shot up. “You are Scholar Duan’s eldest daughter.”
Hearing her father’s name shook Ailin’s resolve, and she tightened her grip on the paintings. She didn’t know if Father would be proud of her for trying to take care of their family or ashamed of her asking Uncle Chen for help. “Yes, I am.”
The old man gestured for them to step over the threshold. “Follow me.”
Ailin and Begonia walked with the old man through a square courtyard into a high-beamed receiving hall for guests.
Bushes of sweet guìhuā blooming in the adjacent yard filled the airy hall with the scent of autumn.
At the back of the room, a sumptuous painted screen depicting a garden in four seasons added visual interest with colorful sprays of plum blossoms, orchids, bamboo, and chrysanthemums.
“Please take a seat.” The old man motioned to a set of sleek huánghuālí chairs which exuded a rich, woody fragrance. “I will inform my master of your arrival.”
When the old man left, Ailin’s nerves crept up again, and she wondered if she should sit as he suggested or stand to show respect. She was a sheltered young lady who had not interacted often with people beyond her family.
“You should sit, miss,” Begonia said quietly. “Your feet will ache if you don’t rest them.”
Ailin considered the practical advice. The bones of her bound feet already hurt because of the walk from Nuolan Garden, where her family lived, to Chen Manor. There was still the matter of the walk home.
“Will you sit too?” Ailin asked as she sat down, balancing on her lap the paintings she had carried.
“I have big feet, and I’m used to standing,” Begonia replied.
“Then set the paintings and umbrellas down over here.” Ailin patted the compact table next to her chair with a free hand. “No point in carrying more weight than necessary.”
Begonia did as she was asked.
After a few minutes, Uncle Chen walked in, and a pang of nostalgia spread through Ailin’s heart. Uncle Chen was a middle-aged man of medium height with a neat beard and a distinguished bearing. He reminded Ailin of how her father used to look.
Right away, Uncle Chen’s forehead wrinkled with worry. “What is the matter, child? Why are you here dressed like that?”
Ailin rose from her chair and curtsied with a dip of her knees. “Uncle Chen, please forgive my rudeness for visiting your house without an invitation. I dressed this way to avoid attracting attention outside.”
“And the reason for your visit?” Uncle Chen asked with more curiosity than impatience.
Ailin took a breath to tamp down her fears.
She had rehearsed for this moment to sound as respectable as possible while also soliciting help.
She shouldn’t feel nervous. “Since my father’s passing, I have been concerned that his name might be fading in the scholarly world.
You are a discerning connoisseur of art, so I wanted to see if you would be interested in buying some of my father’s paintings or introducing others to them. I’ve brought several for your perusal.”
“Are these Duan-xiōng’s works?” Uncle Chen gestured to the bundles on the table.
Ailin nodded as she swallowed. “Yes.”
Uncle Chen walked to the table and unwrapped the bundles carefully, almost reverently.
He opened one of the boxes and lifted out a scroll, unfurling it to reveal a landscape of mountains covered in snow—majestic, pure, out of reach.
His mouth formed a sad smile that matched the one in Ailin’s heart.
“This is surely one of your father’s best paintings,” he said, carefully returning the scroll to the box. “Why would you want to sell this?”
Ailin mentally reviewed her prepared justification, the one she hoped would not draw attention to the embarrassing discord in her family. Even if Uncle Chen saw through her act, perhaps he would be magnanimous enough not to call out her real reasons.
“You are a known collector of fine art with connections to other gentlemen of consequence. His paintings would be better off in your hands than in our house collecting dust.”
Uncle Chen stroked his beard. “Does Duan Junyou know about this? He’s not the kind of man to send his younger sister out to do business.”
Ailin shivered. She had been right to fear the experienced merchant’s powers of perception.
Her older half-brother, Junyou, was Father’s only son, the only child of his first wife, and the sole heir to the entire Duan estate.
The system of inheritance in which sons received everything and widows and daughters received nothing worked perfectly well when the heir provided for everyone.
However, when Junyou moved back to Nuolan Garden six months ago to begin his official mourning period, he had shifted control of household finances from his stepmother to his wife, Fulan, causing Ailin’s mother to suffer.
“My brother thought it would be better for me to approach you since he isn’t familiar with this neighborhood anymore.” Afraid her lie sounded too obvious, Ailin added a truth. “He spent many years away on government assignments.”
Uncle Chen laughed kindly. “Child, I’ve known your family for decades. Duan Junyou is a decent bureaucrat, but he’s too tightfisted to leave money matters to his sister. Tell me the truth.”
Despite Uncle Chen’s understanding tone, Ailin hesitated. She didn’t know if she should disclose the information about Nurse Liu’s dismissal and Mother’s health. Even if it wasn’t proper, however, she had few choices. There was no one else she could ask for help.
She explained the situation without blaming anyone. “Since Father’s passing, our household budget has tightened. Last night, our old nurse was let go, and my mother is distraught because of it.”
“Does your mother need a doctor?” Uncle Chen asked with rising concern.
Ailin shook her head. “Her spirits have been low, but I hope that gaining the resources to provide for Nurse Liu’s retirement will ease her worries.”