“Is it really over?”

Qingdai looked puzzled. What just happened?

Gu Huaishou was fuming—so much so that she nearly wanted to kick Zhang Tingyu out and chop him into pieces. “I just tried to see what he was thinking. I apologized for making them wait too long, but that Second Young Master Zhang responded so properly, saying they weren’t waiting long at all. Can you believe that?”

“…” Qingdai hesitated. She wanted to say, “Why can’t I believe it?” but held her tongue.

“Miss, you’re overthinking this. It’s just harmless chatter between women. Do you really believe a man would take offense to such trivialities?”

Qingdai had a point, but Gu Huaishou was unconvinced.

Leaning on the table, massaging her temples, Gu Huaishou said, “I just can’t make sense of this Second Young Master Zhang…”

He didn’t come off as arrogant or self-important, yet he wasn’t air-headed either.

“Since you’re so familiar with the Zhang family, why not tell me more about the Zhang brothers?” Gu Huaishou requested.

Qingdai wasn’t an expert on everything, but when it came to gossip, she was well-informed.

She proudly straightened up in front of Gu Huaishou, saying, “Miss, you probably know more about Master Zhang’s life than I do, but if you’re curious about the four brothers, I’ve got the scoop.”

“Stop teasing and get to it. Otherwise, I’ll throw you out.” Gu Huaishou interjected.

Qingdai stuck out her tongue playfully and then began the rundown on the Zhang brothers, extending her fingers one by one as she recounted their details:

“The eldest son, Zhang Tingzan, is much older. He became a jinshi (top-ranked scholar in the imperial exams) in the 18th year of Emperor Kangxi’s reign. He achieved this feat at just twenty-five, which is rare for someone so young. But he’s already married with children.”

“The second son, Zhang Tingyu—the one who led today’s conversation. He’s twenty years old. From what I hear, he’s being considered as a potential match for your eldest sister, Gu Yaofang. Your father, Master Gu, has always held the Zhang family in high regard, convinced that Zhang Ying’s sons are all well-raised and capable, so it’s no surprise that he would think of a marriage alliance. If things proceed as expected, Zhang Tingyu could very well be your future brother-in-law.”

“The third son, Zhang Tinglu, is seventeen—a bit younger, still a bit green.”

“The youngest, Zhang Tingzhuan, is just ten, though I’ve heard he’s remarkably clever.”

“Naturally, the ones under consideration for marriage are the second and third brothers, Zhang Tingyu and Zhang Tinglu.”

Upon hearing this, Gu Huaishou felt a sharp pang of discomfort. Her elder sister was Zhang Tingyu’s age, and she herself was around the same age as Zhang Tinglu. Suddenly, it felt like a cold sweat was forming on her neck. Could her opportunistic father view her, too, as a pawn to be leveraged into a marriage? A marriage she might not want?

Just thinking that her future could be at stake was enough to make her feel she was teetering on the edge of a burning pit.

Who was Zhang Ying?

Not just any official, but a trusted minister of Emperor Kangxi, known for mentoring several imperial princes. Be it the crown prince or lesser princes, each referred to him as “Teacher.”

Moreover, Zhang Ying maintained close ties with Nalan Mingzhu, a powerful court minister who considered Zhang an ally, as well as Suo’ertu, another high-ranking official. Remarkably, Zhang managed to stay in good graces with both these men—despite Nalan backing the first prince (Yinreng) and Suo’ertu supporting the crown prince.

Considering all of this, Gu Huaishou had long concluded that Zhang Ying was no ordinary man, but one of exceptional savvy.

In such a powerful family, there would inevitably be political maneuvering, and it seemed none of Zhang’s sons were mere layabouts.

Reminded of her earlier jest about aristocratic families being on the decline, Gu Huaishou inwardly cringed, wishing she could go back in time and swallow her reckless words.

“One generation weaker than the last? That Zhang Tingyu…”

Thinking of a family that could produce not one, but possibly two prime ministers, Gu Huaishou couldn’t help but feel her heart ache.

She got up and walked to her bed, where she lay flat on her back, blankly staring at the canopy above.

As clever as she was, even Gu Huaishou could have her moments of stupidity. She hadn’t anticipated that during her earlier quips, the Zhang brothers were eavesdropping just outside. If her elder sister ended up marrying into the Zhang family, she might have already offended her future brother-in-law. If the marriage didn’t go through, relations between the two families could sour even more—ha! The enmity would be even greater.

Qingdai came over, observing her mistress, who seemed to be worrying over nothing. “Miss, you really are overthinking things. You always imagine problems where there are none…”

This cheeky girl dared to talk back now?

Gu Huaishou cast her a sidelong glance. “You’re getting a bit too sharp for your own good. I’m someone who tries not to provoke others, who keeps a low profile to get by peacefully. Those who stick their neck out are the first to be chopped. The higher you rise, the harder you fall.”

Qingdai pouted, not fully comprehending her mistress’s words.

Their worldviews were too different, and Gu Huaishou didn’t feel inclined to explain further.

After all, she reasoned that as long as Zhang Tingyu was decent, he wouldn’t be so petty as to take these trivial matters to heart.

Her reputation was already in tatters; a little more damage wouldn’t make much difference.

She quickly shrugged off the matter, allowing Qingdai to serve her a meal before lying down to rest.

Perhaps it was her unfamiliarity with the setting, but Gu Huaishou woke up before dawn the next day. While Qingdai slept outside, she dressed casually and got up.

She didn’t like cold tea, yet when she reached for the teapot and found it stone-cold, she sat down in distraction, her mind wandering. She pulled out a jade pendant she’d kept concealed for some time, examining it briefly before putting it away again.

After sitting for a while in the cold, Gu Huaishou climbed back into bed for another nap. Barely half an hour passed before Qingdai came in to wake her.

“Miss, up early again? I could tell you touched the teapot. You haven’t been sleeping well of late. Do you think you’ve caught something from the eldest miss?”

What utter nonsense.

“I don’t have the same temperament as my elder sister, but she sure sleeps soundly enough. Don’t go listening to those quack doctors. A little poor sleep is nothing.”

Gu Yaofang’s health had long been claimed as fragile, but Gu Huaishou never believed it—especially since, in recent years, her sister’s condition had noticeably improved. And yet, she continued to maintain her frail persona, as if to evoke sympathy from everyone around her.

Gazing at her reflection in the bronze mirror, Gu Huaishou mused to herself, If I were in Gu Yaofang’s shoes, I’d be frustrated, too—having a sister like me would make any elder sibling resentful.

And just like that… Gu Huaishou couldn’t stifle a smile. Knowing her older sister wasn’t having a good time, in some twisted way, gave her a smug sense of satisfaction.

Today, she styled her hair in a double-shell bun and chose a lake-blue blouse paired with a slightly darker floral skirt, the overall look fresh and elegant.

After finishing breakfast with Qingdai’s help, the morning sun crept higher into the sky. Originally, Gu Huaishou had planned to venture out and enjoy the spring festivities in Tongcheng, where the celebrations were still ongoing. But an unexpected message arrived:

“Master and Mr. Zhang will be hosting guests at the Zhang estate after noon. The master requests that the third miss pay a visit.”

Zhang Ying, having served many years as an official, likely accumulated considerable wealth, and the Zhang family estate in Tongcheng was their usual residence. Since Zhang was back in town to fulfill his filial duties, he and Gu Zhengguan often gathered to discuss philosophy and literature. Even though receiving guests was important, hosting them at Zhang’s larger estate was far more convenient.

Gu Huaishou had already anticipated this. Not wanting to make a fuss, she simply instructed the messenger to inform her father she would attend.

That afternoon, Gu Huaishou set out for the Zhang family mansion. It wasn’t far from her own house—just two streets south. Massive stone lions flanked the entrance, giving the mansion the grand air of a dignified Beijing estate.

When Gu Huaishou arrived, Gu Zhengguan and Zhang Ying were deeply engrossed in a chess match in the outer pavilion of the atrium.

Zhang Ying, though appearing like any other middle-aged man, carried the cautious air of someone who had long navigated the uncertain waters of imperial court life—even the way he moved his chess pieces was steady and deliberate.

As for her father, Gu Zhengguan, despite his graying hair and the creases lining his face, remained spry, with a charismatic ease as he played. Unlike Zhang Ying, her father retained the demeanor of a scholar, not deeply entangled in the political world.

But the focused expression on Gu Zhengguan’s face as he played gave Gu Huaishou pause. Positioning herself near a not-yet-blooming crabapple tree, she kept a respectful distance of six or seven paces, unwilling to disrupt the game.

Her father disliked being disturbed while playing chess or composing poetry—this, Gu Huaishou knew well.

So, she waited quietly as the sun began to inch toward the west and the match neared its end.

“You’ve still got that sharp edge, Brother Yuanping. Meanwhile, I’ve gotten rusty,” Zhang Ying admitted with a sigh after conceding the game.

Yuanping was Gu Zhengguan’s courtesy name. With a laugh, he countered, “You’ve been spending too much time at court, with the Emperor and the princes. You probably don’t dare win in front of them, right? That’s why your chess has dulled—you’ve become… too polished.”

“You old scoundrel!” Zhang Ying grimaced dramatically but then broke into a smile. “Still clinging to past glory, like an old warrior reliving his triumphs. I’m irrelevant these days. Serving the Emperor is like walking on eggshells—you, of all people, should understand that.”

Once the game ended, Zhang Ying stood to stretch, his status and past achievements weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Zhang Ying had once served as Minister of Rites and Director of the Hanlin Academy, overseeing the Crown Prince’s office as well.

The Ministry of Rites held major responsibilities, and overseeing the Hanlin Academy—where future court elites were groomed—was even more politically charged. Internal factionalism, paired with the ambitions of the growing imperial princes, made his position incredibly delicate. Zhang Ying was caught in the center of these court conflicts.

The fact that he had eventually been ousted from office was hardly surprising—it was a testament to the dangerous dance of power at the Emperor’s court.

Once they were finished tidying up, Gu Huaishou stepped forward.

Standing just before the pavilion steps, she respectfully greeted them, “Your humble daughter greets Father and Uncle Zhang.”

Zhang Ying turned to observe her closely. He had heard much about Gu Zhengguan’s daughters—especially this third daughter, renowned for her beauty. Now, seeing her in person, she certainly lived up to the rumors. He and Gu Zhengguan had already discussed the possibility of marrying off Gu Yaofang to his second son, Zhang Tingyu, and the matter had mostly been settled. However, after seeing Gu Huaishou, whose wild and spirited nature was infamous, Zhang Ying couldn’t help but entertain new thoughts. Could a closer bond between their families be even more beneficial?

“When you were born, I remember coming to your father’s house to offer my congratulations. Now look at you—graceful and poised. Brother Yuanping, you are truly blessed.”

Gu Zhengguan exchanged a knowing glance with Zhang Ying and remarked, “This girl? Unruly since childhood. She enjoys wandering the world, so I brought her along to open her horizons. You see her behaving now, but turn your back, and she’ll be up to her mischief again.”

Typical parental modesty, downplaying their children’s merits.

Gu Huaishou knew this well, and so she stood quietly, hoping not to attract more attention.

Meanwhile, in the front courtyard, Zhang Tingyu had just received a letter. After opening it, he realized it contained important news from the capital—news significant enough to require his father’s immediate attention. Without delay, he headed to the back garden to deliver it.

As he walked, a servant approached, saying, “Second Master, the third miss of the Gu family has been waiting outside for over an hour now.”

“Waiting?”

Zhang Tingyu frowned. He didn’t quite understand why. Raising his eyebrows, he prepared to leave when his younger brother, Zhang Tinglu, hurried up behind him, his face alight with excitement.

“Second Brother! Good news! Mother just told me your engagement to the eldest Miss Gu has been confirmed! Isn’t that wonderful?”

The sickly eldest miss?

Zhang Tingyu gave a slight nod, his reaction muted. “I know,” he said simply, as if the matter concerned anyone but himself.

Letter in hand, Zhang Tingyu made his way to the stone pavilion in the back garden.