Chapter 70

Chapter 70

The prior agreement imbued the otherwise ordinary Lantern Festival with a special significance.

Yet, no matter how eagerly one might await its arrival, the days leading up to it still had to be spent in their usual, methodical manner—filled with busyness.

For an established noble family like the Peis, festivals such as the New Year were laden with intricate customs. From family banquets to hosting old acquaintances, from guest lists to the selection of dishes, even the choice of teacups carried its own significance. Though the Duchess and Ming Tang had arranged all matters well in advance, unforeseen minor issues inevitably arose during the festivities, requiring the attention of the two mistresses of the household.

At such times, Ming Tang couldn’t help but reminisce about past New Year celebrations—those had been truly leisurely. Back then, she hadn’t needed to manage anything at all, merely serving as a figurehead while leaving all affairs to Zhe Liu and Wen He, who handled everything flawlessly. Now, with three staff members and one temporary helper, she still occasionally found herself overwhelmed.

After hosting guests for several consecutive days, the Duke of Dingguo made only a brief appearance during the Pei family’s private banquet. His ashen complexion made it obvious he was unwell, prompting inquiries from relatives.

He would have liked to say it was due to being angered by his son and daughter-in-law, but family shames shouldn't be made public. Even if he was but a figurehead within his own household, outsiders remained unaware of the truth.

Unwilling to provide entertainment for the family’s collateral branches, the Duke suppressed his frustration and recycled his usual excuse: “Having lived too long in the tranquility of the countryside, returning to the capital’s bustle has aggravated my old ailments.”

The one who had asked was an elderly member of the Pei clan, now in his seventies, with white hair and beard but still spry and loud-voiced. Upon hearing the Duke’s explanation, he embarked on a rambling lecture on health preservation. Unfortunately, his advanced age had dulled his memory, causing him to repeat himself three or four times before moving on to the next point.

The Duke's patience wore thin but, out of respect for his elder, endured the lengthy discourse. The moment the banquet concluded, he excused himself on grounds of poor health.

The men scarcely noticed, some heading to the theater to watch the operas arranged by the Pei family, others seeking out Pei Yue to thank him for promoting several promising young clansmen.

The female guests in the inner quarters were similarly occupied. Those disinclined to socialize went to watch the performances, while the Duchess set up a card table that quickly filled with players engaged in lively games of Leaf Cards.

Having already indulged in several rounds of cards over the past few days, Ming Tang politely declined when invited to join, citing the need to look after Pei Ze.

With so many guests present and Leaf Cards being a common pastime among the womenfolk, finding a replacement should have been easy. Yet Pei Tang’s wife, Rong Shi, chose that moment to interject, “With so many attendants around him, how could he possibly lack your presence? Or perhaps you disdain our lower official ranks and refuse to play with us?”

This was not the first time this aunt-in-law had made such barbed comments—she had similarly “teased” Ming Tang during the family introduction. Ming Tang, irritated, decided to provoke her in return: “No wager makes for dull play. But with stakes, given my recent luck, I fear the outcome might prove awkward.”

Rong Shi, rather than backing down, rose to the challenge: “Since you’ve said so, as your elder, I’ll consider any losses as lucky money to you.”

Ming Tang smiled gracefully and took the seat opposite her. “Then I’ll thank Aunt in advance for the lucky money.”

The tension between them drew the attention of onlookers, who gathered around the table in anticipation of drama. The other two players at the table inwardly regretted their choice—they had unwittingly become part of a spectacle.

Now, they had no choice but to play on.

Within an hour of this tense match, Rong Shi had lost all the banknotes she had brought, along with two bracelets from her wrists, leaving her movements devoid of their characteristic jingle. The other two players also suffered losses, though far more modest.

Rong Shi’s expression darkened. Ming Tang pushed her winning cards forward once more.

“My luck has been truly exceptional lately—I’ve profited greatly from Aunt’s generosity,” Ming Tang said with a smile. She then spotted two young girls nearby and beckoned them over, presenting each with one of the bracelets. “Since this is our first meeting, I’ve no worthy gifts for you. Consider these repurposed gifts as keepsakes to remember me by.”

The onlookers were taken aback. Their gazes toward Ming Tang grew more respectful—the two girls happened to be the granddaughters of the other two players at the table.

No one believed Ming Tang’s claim of mere luck after her unbroken winning streak. That she had singled out these two girls only deepened their admiration for her memory.

The two other players, though having lost money, saw their granddaughters receive gifts. Their initial displeasure melted away, and they soon joined in praising Ming Tang’s generosity.

Noting Rong Shi’s worsening expression, Ming Tang smiled sweetly. “Shall we continue, Aunt?” Her gaze lingered meaningfully on the pins in Rong-shi's hair.

Losing bracelets was one thing, but removing hair ornaments as stakes would be too humiliating. Rong Shi forced a smile. “You’ve already claimed enough ‘lucky money’ from me today. Let’s leave it at that.”

Ming Tang thanked her again for the “lucky money” and, before Rong Shi’s expression could sour further, excused herself to sit by a window, stifling a yawn. Playing cards at such intensity had exhausted her.

With Ming Tang gone and Rong Shi having failed in her provocation—being humiliated and impoverished—the latter also lost interest in continuing. She retreated to the farthest corner from Ming Tang. The spectators, cheated of more drama, dispersed to mingle elsewhere, though some chose to sit near Ming Tang for casual conversation.

Many in the Pei clan held army commissions, though mostly minor, yet their social circles were broad, and they were in the know about scandals concerning neighboring families. Noting Ming Tang’s keen interest in their trivial tales, they grew even more talkative.

Eventually, one woman, caught up in the gossip and ignoring her companions’ subtle warnings, remarked disdainfully, “I’d say our kind of household is best—we say what we mean. Take General Wu’s eldest daughter—pampered beyond reason by her family, she delayed marriage for years before finally wedding a scholar. Little did she know that those widow-ruled households would plot without showing their cards. Sure enough, before the New Year, she quarreled with them and returned to her parents’ home, only going back at year’s end.”

Realizing her audience’s silence, the woman glanced around and, upon seeing Ming Tang, paled. She hastily apologized.

Ming Tang waved it off. “Hearing about their household troubles delights me—why should I mind?” she asked curiously. “What sparked the quarrel?”

Relieved, the woman explained, “Her mother-in-law criticized her for failing to conceive within half a year of marriage, then gave her the infant clothes of a son born of a concubine, claiming they’d bring fertility. Naturally, that sparked outrage. Once the Wu girl left, her in-laws found themselves at sixes and sevens. Her mother-in-law had to personally visit to apologize before she’d return.”

“And Imperial Censor Chen?” Ming Tang inquired. Why was only his wife mentioned?

“Ah...” The woman hesitated—was it proper to ask so bluntly about an ex-husband? But seeing only genuine curiosity in Ming Tang’s eyes, devoid of any lingering attachment, as if the Chen family were strangers to her, she pondered before replying regretfully, “Nothing’s been heard of him. Though he likely accompanied his wife to the Wu residence.”

Ming Tang nodded and immediately changed the subject, leaving her listeners bewildered—that's it?

Not even a smug remark? Her indifferent reaction left them feeling as if they’d been left hanging.

Meanwhile, Pei Ze, who had been amusing himself under Nanny Zhou’s care, spotted Ming Tang and, seeing her free, abandoned his toys to tug at her skirts. “Mother~ Let’s go play~”

Some present had seen Pei Ze before, while others had attended the family introduction. Witnessing his radiant smile and obvious attachment to Ming Tang, one might easily mistake them for biological mother and son, prompting private reflections.

Ming Tang paid no heed to their thoughts. Allowing Pei Ze to pull her along, she apologized to the others with a smile, bundled him in his cloak, and had Nanny Zhou carry him as they headed outside.

As they exited, a group of young boys came barreling past, skidding to a halt before Ming Tang to offer uneven bows before being ushered inside by maids to their respective elders.

Pei Ze, peering over Nanny Zhou’s shoulder with only his eyes visible, wriggled in her arms to watch the boys until they disappeared from view, then turned back.

Meeting Ming Tang’s thoughtful gaze, he urged, “To the courtyard~”

As the sun dipped westward, guests gradually departed. Seated in her carriage for the journey home, Rong Shi faced her husband Pei Tang’s stern expression and snapped, “It’s just a bit of silver lost—must you wear that face?”

Pei Tang wasn’t angry about the money. Glaring at his wife, he said coldly, “Why antagonize Ming Shi? She’s already been granted a title—the next Duchess of Dingguo for all intents and purposes. Women nurse grievances. If you offend her thoroughly, what if she hinders our grandsons’ futures?”

“What’s there to fear? If we raise them well, they’ll have promising futures,” Rong Shi retorted stubbornly.

Who could’ve guessed Ming Shi, so young, played cards so well? She must’ve done nothing in her parents' household but accompany elders in gambling.

Pei Tang gave up with a flick of his sleeve. “Enough—I waste no more words.” As elders, what was the point of winning petty word skirmishes? Even if they humiliated Ming Shi, what good would it do?

Leaning back in the rocking carriage, Pei Tang closed his eyes in silent contemplation.

With another major event concluded, the Pei residence’s bustling New Year period gradually drew to a close, the household returning to its usual rhythm.

Yet in the capital, the festive atmosphere lingered as people eagerly anticipated the grand culmination—the Lantern Festival.

As dusk fell, Pei Yue arrived at Cheng Yi Hall from his study to fetch Ming Tang for their outing.

Knowing the lantern crowds would be dense, Ming Tang had opted for simpler attire, her raven hair braided and draped over her shoulder.

Were it not for the heavier winter clothing, her appearance would have perfectly matched what Pei Yue had seen that day on Qixia Mountain.

Well, not entirely...

It lacked that garish wild azalea.

Having finished her preparations, Ming Tang noticed the faint smile on Pei Yue’s lips and, puzzled, asked him about it.

At this point, Pei Yue no longer avoided mentioning how he had unintentionally overheard that day: "I recalled seeing you once on Qixia Mountain, dressed the same way, except with a rather mismatched azalea tucked into your hair by that little flower-selling girl."

Ming Tang, however, was hearing for the first time that Pei Yue had seen her back then. Remembering what the little girl had said, it dawned on her: "So the 'handsome older brother' the girl mentioned was you!"

She had once regretted not encountering that handsome man, never imagining they had already been fated to cross paths another way.

As she tried to recall the scene from that day, wondering where Pei Yue had been "hiding," she walked alongside him, pressing him for details. Just as they rounded the spirit wall, both abruptly stopped in their tracks.

—Pei Ze was being carried by Nanny Zhou, having just entered the courtyard.

Spotting Ming Tang, Pei Ze lifted his head excitedly: "Mother, lanterns~"

Pei Yue, who had been smiling faintly moments ago, now fell silent at the sight of the exuberant Pei Ze, his smile vanishing as he frowned. "Did Mother permit you to go out?"

Nanny Zhou lowered her head and cautiously explained: "The young master heard that the young mistress was going to see the lanterns and had been pestering The Madam since morning. Just now, he threw a fit that The Madam had no choice but to order this servant to bring him here."

Despite his usual fondness for the boy, Pei Yue now strongly considered dragging him back.

When his elder brother went out with his sister-in-law, he never allowed anyone to tag along with them. How could Pei Ze, his brother's own son, be so oblivious?

Knowing full well that Pei Ze was just three years old and acted purely on whim, Pei Yue shouldn’t blame him—yet he couldn’t help but feel this way.

But since the boy was already here, what could they do? Pei Yue nodded. "Very well, he can come."

Ming Tang didn’t mind the matter and nodded in agreement when Pei Yue consented.

With an additional young master joining at the last moment, more guards had to be arranged. By the time the group finally left the mansion and headed toward the main street of the capital, it was completely dark.

The current emperor, known for his wisdom, had maintained a clear and just rule since his accession. After his swift punishment of the Liu clan of Shaanxi, he quickly sensed the uneasy atmosphere in the capital and specifically ordered notices posted, declaring that the Lantern Festival celebrations would proceed as usual.

Thus, this year’s Lantern Festival in the capital was no different from previous years—the curfew was lifted. From the main city gates to the entrance of the imperial palace, the entire avenue was lined with exquisite lanterns of every hue, lighting up the street like daylight.

Vendors lined the roadside with their stalls, and every few dozen steps stood towering lantern pavilions erected by wealthy merchants, their brilliance from afar resembling celestial palaces, a sight to behold.

Their carriage stopped nearby, and the three disembarked one after another. Pei Ze, witnessing such splendor for the first time, stood frozen for a good while before finally coming to his senses and asking Ming Tang, "Mother, are we in heaven now?"

Pinching his cheek, Ming Tang laughed. "No, this is the prosperous human world."

Moving slowly along with the crowd, Pei Ze was surrounded by sights he had never seen before, his eyes darting everywhere as if they weren’t enough. Squirming left and right in Nanny Zhou’s arms, he occasionally tugged at Ming Tang’s sleeve to chatter excitedly, only irritating Pei Yue more.

He had known bringing Pei Ze along would turn out like this.

His good looks naturally drew attention in the crowd, but Pei Yue no longer felt his usual aversion to such gazes. Clasping Ming Tang’s wrist, he pulled her closer and then lifted his eyes, glaring coldly back at those who stared, whether intentionally or not.

His imposing aura, combined with his otherworldly beauty under the lantern light, made his unapologetic stare—along with the obvious fact that he was already married—scare off most onlookers, and the number of eyes fixed on him noticeably dwindled.

Satisfied, Pei Yue kept hold of Ming Tang’s wrist as they moved forward through the crowd, now finding Pei Ze’s loud exclamations a little less annoying.

Pei Ze, who had been in an excited state since arriving at the festival, suddenly brightened and eagerly led the group to a stall selling dough figurines. His eyes shone with longing as he gazed at the lifelike creations.

The figurine maker was an elderly man with a face full of wrinkles but remarkably nimble fingers. The dough in his hands seemed to morph effortlessly into any shape, and within moments, another figurine was complete.

A seasoned vendor, the old man had sharp eyes. He immediately pegged this family of three as nobles out enjoying the festival.

Seeing Pei Ze’s interest, the old man cheerfully beckoned them: "Would the young master like one? Not to boast, but my craft is unmatched in the capital—I can make one just like you."

Pei Ze nodded vigorously. "Yes!"

Then, turning to look at Pei Yue and Ming Tang behind him, he pleaded, "A Ze wants one of A Ze, one of Mother, and one of Uncle~"

He added regretfully, "A Ze also wants Grandmother, but she didn’t come..."

As he lamented, the old man nearly crushed the half-formed figurine in his shock.

Had he heard correctly?

This young couple—one was the boy’s mother, the other his uncle?

His eyes darted to their clasped hands, and the old man’s heart pounded. Rumors said noble households were decadent, but surely not to this extent?

For a moment, he wondered if age had dulled his hearing.

If not, then this family—uncle and mother, bringing a child out for the Lantern Festival—was simply far too bold.