Volume One: Wandering Among Indistinguishable Paper Leaves Chapter Thirty-Six: The Third Lady

Yang Ning knew that the father of that young lord was a second-rank military commander of Southern Chu, but had no idea who this Marquis of Brocade Attire was. Since the funeral was being held at the Marquis’s residence, the Marquis himself was naturally involved. What puzzled him even more was the beautiful third lady—was she perhaps the general’s concubine? If so, then his current identity as the young lord, the general’s son, would mean that this lovely young widow before him was actually his stepmother.

Still, the third lady had not noticed he was an imposter, so he had at least passed this hurdle for now. As for what to do next, he was at a loss. But then, the young lord was known to be a dull-witted fellow; if he ran into trouble, he could always just play the fool.

Servants helped him change into mourning robes. Yang Ning cursed his rotten luck under his breath, then was ushered into the mourning hall by the third lady.

The hall was lavishly arranged. A white curtain divided the space in two, and Yang Ning guessed the coffin must be behind it. Various fruits and cakes were laid out as offerings, and in the center stood an enormous memorial tablet inscribed: “Memorial to the Brocade Marquis, General of the Wei, Qi Jing.”

Yang Ning instantly understood: the general and the Brocade Marquis were one and the same, and his name was Qi Jing. If that was so, then the young lord’s name must be Qi Ning—just like his own.

Along the edge of the mourning hall, quite a few people were present. Someone was kneeling by the coffin, clad in sackcloth and mourning. As Yang Ning entered, that person looked up abruptly. He seemed about the same age as Yang Ning, fifteen or sixteen, with delicate features. Yet at the sight of Yang Ning, his face changed dramatically, as if he’d seen a ghost.

Am I really that frightening? Yang Ning wondered. He glanced around; there were twenty or thirty people in all. The hall was vast, so despite the number, it didn’t feel crowded. Most conspicuous was an elderly man of over sixty, with a full head of white hair, dressed all in black save for a white armband. The old man had been speaking to someone beside him, but stopped in surprise on seeing Yang Ning.

Next to him was a portly man in his fifties, chubby but with smooth, fair skin, sporting a mustache and a tuft of black beard under his chin. He, too, wore mourning white, and when he saw Yang Ning enter, he was startled, but quickly came forward, looking utterly grief-stricken. “Young lord, you… you’ve returned!”

Yang Ning wondered who on earth this man was, but since he knew nothing about the Marquis’s residence or the people before him, he could only give a vague grunt in reply.

“Pay your respects to your father,” the third lady prompted, pulling Yang Ning forward.

Though frustrated, Yang Ning had little choice. With so many eyes on him, and since he was the son of the Marquis, it would be unfilial not to bow before his father’s memorial. He knelt and paid his respects, then rose.

The third lady glanced at the young man kneeling by the coffin. “Qi Yu, get up. Ning’er has returned—that is his place.”

No sooner had she spoken than a mocking laugh rang out. A woman emerged from the crowd.

She was just over thirty, attractive, but with thin lips and a trace of annoyance in her brow. She stood before the third lady and sneered, “You want Yu’er to give up his place? He’s been kneeling there for days, and you think a single word from you can drive him away?”

The third lady’s beautiful face remained impassive. “Now that Ning’er is back, it is his filial duty to mourn. If not him, who else belongs there?” she replied coolly.

The woman’s voice grew shrill. “Everyone, look! The moment the old master’s gone, she acts as if she rules the place! Does she plan to run the Marquis’s household single-handed? Don’t forget, Gu Qinghan, this family is Qi, not Gu. You used to flaunt your power and I kept silent, but now, do you dare still act so high and mighty?”

Gu Qinghan’s phoenix eyes turned cold. “Madam Qiong, this is the mourning hall, not a place for your shouting. Ning’er is the general’s legitimate son; by all rights, he should be the chief mourner. There’s nothing to argue about. For the past few days, Ning’er was abducted, so Qi Yu stood in for him. Now that Ning’er has returned, the substitution is no longer needed.”

“Yu’er, you stay right there. Let’s see who dares touch a hair on your head,” Madam Qiong retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re the old master’s son, a member of the Qi family. I dare anyone to move you.”

Gu Qinghan did not argue with her, but turned to the elderly man, bowing slightly. “Grand Master, since you are here, may I ask you to make a decision?”

The old man stroked his beard. “Qinghan, don’t be so hasty. Let’s discuss this matter at length.”

Qinghan gave a slight smile. “Grand Master, you may not feel rushed, but I suspect this is not something that can be put off.”

“What, are you saying I’m wrong?” The Grand Master’s face darkened, then he sighed and softened his tone. “Qinghan, with such a calamity in the household, it’s best to hear everyone’s opinions, rather than making all the decisions yourself.” He glanced at Qi Yu. “And some of what’s been said is not without sense. Qi Yu has been keeping vigil for days; it would be unkind to drive him away the moment Ning’er returns, as if casting aside a used bridge.”

At that, someone spoke up. “Everyone knows Gu Qinghan runs roughshod over this house. Now the Marquis has gone, do you mean to plunge the whole place into chaos?” This speaker was a man in his thirties, thin and wan, with dull eyes—a man clearly ruined by drink and debauchery.

“What do you mean by that, Fifth Master?” Gu Qinghan’s eyes narrowed. “Chaos? Which of your eyes has seen this house in chaos? As for dominating the household, I’m just a woman; if not for the orders of the Dowager Madam and the General, I’d never have gotten involved.”

“You’re two-faced,” another man shouted. “Meek and gentle before the Dowager, but savage behind her back. Now you invoke her again—what, planning to use her to suppress us?” He snorted. “Go ahead, call the Dowager out and argue with her face to face.”

Gu Qinghan remained composed. “The young lord missing, the general dead, and the Dowager is elderly and frail. With two calamities in quick succession, do you really think she can come out and argue with you? Sixth Master, you should not have said that.”

The sixth master was a portly man, even fatter than the mustachioed one, his eyes rolling upward as he pointed at Gu Qinghan. “Why shouldn’t I say it? I’ll say whatever I please! Today we’re speaking plainly—no more letting you muddle things.”

Yang Ning was growing more confused. This whole group clearly belonged to the Qi family, but he couldn’t make sense of their relationships. Old and young alike seemed hostile to Gu Qinghan, confronting her together. She was fighting for his right as chief mourner—a trivial matter, yet it had stirred up so much ire.

He thought, why bother with this contest? Whoever wants to kneel there can do so; it saves him the trouble. But seeing everyone’s anger focused on Gu Qinghan, Yang Ning felt some indignation on her behalf.

“Everyone, the third lady is only thinking of the greater good, you—!” At that moment, Duan Canghai appeared at the door. He and Qi Feng had entered the residence with Yang Ning and the third lady, but had stayed kneeling outside the hall. Now, apparently unable to bear seeing Gu Qinghan assaulted by so many, he stepped forward to intercede.

But before he could finish, the thin Fifth Master snapped, “Duan Canghai, who the hell are you—a mere dog at the Marquis’s gate! What right do you have to speak here?”

“If you don’t want your job, leave now!” the sixth master howled, as if his tail had been stepped on. “Gu Qinghan, look at this! Does the Marquis’s house have any order left? Even a guard dog dares to bark here. Is this your doing? And you still say the house is not in chaos? Look, everyone, what a scandal—the Marquis’s household is so upside-down that even the gatekeeper dares to meddle. If word of this gets out, what face will our Qi family have?”

Duan Canghai’s face turned ashen. His lips moved as if to speak, but he only lowered his head, fists clenched, veins bulging, his whole body trembling.

“Still clenching your fists?” Fifth Master sneered. “What, want to hit us? I’m right here! We all know you fought in battles and survived heaps of corpses, your martial skills are good. Go on, strike me dead with one blow if you dare. If not, you’re a coward.”

Gu Qinghan intervened. “Canghai, you may go.”

Duan Canghai bowed his head and saluted. Suddenly the Fifth Master kicked him in the stomach, cursing, “Mongrel!” Duan Canghai, caught off guard, staggered back two steps from the blow, but being strong, he did not fall.

“Oh, calling him Canghai so affectionately,” Madam Qiong jeered, emboldened now that others supported her. She looked at Gu Qinghan with mock amusement. “He’s so eager to defend you—why is that? You two are quite close. Could it be—?”

Before she could finish, there was a sharp crack as Gu Qinghan slapped her hard across the face. The sound echoed in the hall, and everyone fell silent, shocked. Madam Qiong froze, clutching her cheek, her eyes flashing first with fear, then with fury. She shrieked, “You—you dare strike me?” and lunged at Gu Qinghan, screaming, “You wretched woman, how dare you hit me! I’ll fight you to the death!”