Chapter 37: Suffering in Silence

The old matron was left speechless by Shen Qingyun’s words. How could she have forgotten this? In order to maintain the facade of a pious, vegetarian lifestyle, she had always ordered fewer dishes whenever Madam Han and Shen Qingyun dined at the Hall of Evergreen Pines. Madam Han was generous with everyone, but especially with her; she never questioned the consumption of rare delicacies or daily expenses. As a result, the old matron and Shen Sisi had been living ever more lavishly. Now that Shen Qingyun had laid everything bare, could she shamelessly declare that she was entitled to a different array of exotic delicacies at every meal?

Seeing the old matron defeated, Shen Sisi sobbed, “Then what about my maid Ziju? Was she also sold because she ate too much?”

“She certainly had quite the appetite—enough for two of my own maids,” Shen Qingyun replied knowingly, stifling a laugh as she watched Shen Sisi choke on her words. Then she continued, “Of course, I wouldn’t sell a maid just for eating too much.”

“Do you know, elder sister, that this month alone, Ziju broke a complete set of blue-and-white porcelain teapots and cups, an entire set of purple clay teapots and cups, two vases, a beauty vase, two large white porcelain vases, and several bowls and plates? Altogether, it amounts to five hundred and forty-one taels of silver! Selling her five times over wouldn’t cover the loss!”

“Well… Ziju is indeed a bit clumsy. She’s been with me since childhood, and our bond is deep. I’m used to her ways. Could you let her off this once, for my sake?”

“Sister, you’re just too soft-hearted. I must help you discipline your servants.” Shen Qingyun spoke with righteous indignation. “How can this be called carelessness? It’s outright insolence! Forgive my bluntness, but a mistress must keep her servants in check. Some need a warning; some must be dismissed. I know you mean well, but endless indulgence will only embolden them!”

After speaking, Shen Qingyun looked to the old matron for counsel. “Grandmother, am I right?”

The old matron nodded. “Sisi, you are too kind. That maid is unsuitable. We’ll get you a new head maid soon.”

To the old matron, a loss of five hundred taels in a month was better spent on a fine piece of jade. Such a maid deserved a harsh punishment as an example to others.

Shen Sisi’s face twisted with anger. Outwardly, it was said she was soft-hearted, but in truth, it was an accusation that she failed to control her servants, allowing them to act with impudence. Of her two head maids, Madam Han had already dismissed one because of Shen Qingyun, and now Shen Qingyun herself had dismissed the other, leaving her only with Hongyu, who had been foisted upon her and clearly harbored ambitions for favor. Soon, she would have no confidants at all!

Shen Qingyun was simply too overbearing!

“Sister, I…”

“Sisi, don’t worry. I know you’re attached to Ziju. I’ve already arranged with the brokers to find her a good placement; she won’t suffer. That should satisfy your bond as mistress and maid. Let me be the villain in this.”

Seeing Shen Qingyun’s face, full of concern for her, Shen Sisi gritted her teeth and forced out, “Then thank you, sister.”

“No need for thanks, none at all!”

So it was that the old matron and Shen Sisi found themselves living in torment, unable to voice their grievances.

In truth, Shen Qingyun’s standards for meals were not low. Many official households in the capital might not eat as well as the Marquis’ estate. But a life of extravagance had left them unable to bear even a return to normalcy.

Shen Zhifeng, too, gradually sensed something amiss. In the past, every brush, inkstone, and piece of paper in his study was of the finest quality, and his meals were lavish. He regularly purchased poetry and books to display his learning. Now, restrictions were everywhere.

He summoned the steward for an explanation. The steward, trembling before Shen Zhifeng’s dark expression, hesitated for a long moment before whispering, “Second Miss has reviewed the estate’s accounts. The income from the farms and shops, and… and the Marquis’ stipend, are not enough to cover expenses, so the household’s spending has been reduced.”

On hearing this, Shen Zhifeng was furious and kicked over the nearby table. “Well, well, Shen Qingyun!”

What did this mean? Was she looking down on his meager stipend?

“My lord, Second Miss has said that each household may not replace or add more than three decorative items per month.” The steward glanced at the broken table leg and couldn’t help but remind him. Having delivered his message, he dared not meet Shen Zhifeng’s terrifying gaze any longer, lest he be the next one kicked.

Shen Zhifeng’s eyes widened; he wanted to smash the inkstone on his desk, but his hand, raised high, reluctantly lowered again. This inkstone was a fine Duan stone from Madam Han’s dowry; if it broke, Shen Qingyun certainly wouldn’t replace it with anything better.

He couldn’t bear to break it.

“Get out! Get out!” Shen Zhifeng bellowed in impotent rage.

“Yes, yes!” The steward, relieved, hurried away.

Once the steward had left, Shen Zhifeng paced the room like a headless fly, sweat beading at his temples in anger. He wanted to smash things, but his hands were tied by practicality. In the end, he only overturned a flowerpot before storming off to the Hall of Evergreen Pines to consult with the old matron.

How could he, the master of the house, be forced to live so stifled in his own estate? This was intolerable!

He could not let things continue this way.

And so, Shen Zhifeng, the old matron, and Shen Sisi gathered in secret at the Hall of Evergreen Pines, plotting for a long time to ensure Shen Qingyun would finally stumble.

…

Meanwhile, the one about to be targeted, Shen Qingyun, was enjoying a rare moment of ease. Reclining on her chaise, she calculated the accounts while nibbling on freshly sliced fruit, her spirits high. Though she still needed to supplement with her dowry, the savings from these cutbacks amounted to no small sum.

Yicui fanned her gently nearby, marveling at how her mistress seemed more beautiful with each passing day. Her brows arched like willow leaves, her gaze was limpid as autumn waters, her skin delicate and fair, her manner languid yet noble—so entrancing that one could hardly look away.

Yet Yicui could not fathom why her mistress so openly opposed the other members of the household.

Had Shen Qingyun known her thoughts, she would have smiled bitterly. She and her mother were like fattened sheep awaiting slaughter; no amount of docility could save them from being exploited by the Marquis’ estate. Past experience had taught her well: obedience was useless—only making others obey her would suffice.

Her tranquility was suddenly shattered by the arrival of Zhenzhu, who burst in breathless, her hair in disarray and her face flushed with anger. “Miss, something terrible has happened! There are all sorts of rumors flying outside, saying… saying…”