Chapter 60: Elder Sister

In the end, Yan Yan still met with Lady Wanyan.

Although Yan Yan herself never cared for distinctions between legitimate and concubine-born daughters, nor did she consider herself inferior to Lady Wanyan, Ninth Lord was of the opinion that refusing to see Lady Wanyan was unwise; nevertheless, he gave Yan Yan his full support, hiding away in the inner chamber and feigning sleep.

Yan Yan gazed at Ninth Lord, stretched out on the bed pretending to nap, and suddenly smiled, whispering softly, “My lord, I’ll be fine.” Ninth Lord waved his hand impatiently, looking as if he couldn’t be bothered with her. Yet the moment Yan Yan disappeared from the bedroom with Cui’er, he opened his eyes once again.

In his mind, the image of that single tear from Yan Yan kept flashing. He had seen many women cry—crying from grievance, begging for mercy, even crying from sorrow—but never had he witnessed anything like Yan Yan’s tears.

He didn’t know what weight that tear carried, but he knew, for the rest of his life, he would never forget it.

A voice suddenly echoed from outside, interrupting Ninth Lord’s contemplation. Remembering Lady Wanyan’s usual demeanor, he sprang up from the bed, but as he walked briskly toward the curtain, he stopped abruptly. For some reason, he always felt Yan Yan was not as meek as she appeared, but rather a woman with her own mind, who knew exactly what she wanted.

Indeed, in the main hall, Yan Yan did not arrogantly take the seat of honor, nor did she display submissiveness. Instead, Lady Wanyan hesitated, unsure whether to salute Yan Yan, standing stiffly in the center of the hall.

Yan Yan smiled leisurely, unconcerned with such empty formalities, and spoke directly, “Sister, what brings you here? The weather’s cold and the roads slippery—it must have been a difficult journey.”

Lady Wanyan responded with a quiet “Mm,” scrutinizing Yan Yan closely. Nearly a year had passed since they last met, and Yan Yan had changed greatly. Gone was the showy bravado, gone too was the meticulously crafted makeup. Yet no matter how she looked, Lady Wanyan thought Yan Yan had grown far more beautiful. Even this supposedly bleak villa on the outskirts now seemed to her like paradise.

“It wasn’t too bad—a half day’s travel and I arrived,” Lady Wanyan replied, neither warm nor cold.

Yan Yan gestured to the seats, which did not distinguish between main and secondary positions, and said with a smile, “Sister, please sit. Cui’er, bring tea for my sister.” Cui’er responded cheerfully and left the reception hall. Lady Wanyan’s maid, perceptive as well, withdrew.

Yan Yan then asked, “What brings sister here today? Things are rather bleak here, I’m afraid I have little to offer. Please don’t take offense.” Her tone was serene, causing Ninth Lord, eavesdropping from the inner room, to furrow his brow—this place Yan Yan arranged hardly looked bleak.

Lady Wanyan seemed to notice this, her smile tinged with irony. “I’d say you’ve lived quite comfortably this past year. Just look at your complexion—it’s incomparable to last year.”

Yan Yan let out a soft laugh. She would have liked to wear herself out, but with Ninth Lord present, she dared not act recklessly.

“Sister flatters me.” Yan Yan’s voice remained gentle, but Lady Wanyan clenched her fists slightly and gave a cold snort. “That’s not praise, that’s simply the truth. By the way, I haven’t congratulated you yet on becoming a secondary consort. Now, your rank is even higher than mine.”

Yan Yan smiled, “I was merely lucky. How could I compare to you, sister, who bore the lord a daughter and another child—your merit is great.”

Lady Wanyan looked at Yan Yan’s harmless smile, finding the words oddly grating, and her expression darkened.

“I heard mother visited you recently, and you didn’t see her?” Lady Wanyan’s voice grew cold. Yan Yan knew Lady Wanyan was no longer Ninth Lord’s concubine here, but her elder sister.

Yan Yan answered with a simple “Mm,” not intending to elaborate. Lady Wanyan glanced at her, her tone heavy, “No matter your status today, remember, you are always a daughter of the Wanyan family. I’ll speak well of you to mother, but for the New Year, you must send more gifts yourself.”

Yan Yan looked at Lady Wanyan in surprise, tugging at the corner of her mouth, “So you approve of me reclaiming my place in the Wanyan family?”

Lady Wanyan was caught off guard, never expecting Yan Yan had been waiting for her here. She snorted, “When have I ever not recognized you? If I didn’t, why did I work so hard to persuade mother to bring you to Ninth Lord’s household? If I didn’t, with so many maids around, why would I let you serve the lord?”

At this, Ninth Lord recalled a past incident—he must have been drunk that time. Seeing Lady Wanyan unable to turn around, he was about to leave, but she panicked and asked him to have Yan Yan, then a maid, serve him.

He couldn’t quite recall that night—perhaps he’d been too drunk. Yet it was clear he must have enjoyed himself, or he wouldn’t have granted Yan Yan her own small courtyard.

Indeed, so many had become chamber maids, but he had never really cared about any of them. Ninth Lord sighed softly, sensing something was amiss.

Meanwhile, Lady Wanyan continued to lecture Yan Yan as a sister, “Forget about mother. You should tidy up and return with me to the manor for the New Year. As a secondary consort living long-term in this villa, have you considered what others think of the main consort, and what they think of me as your sister?”

Yan Yan looked at Lady Wanyan with a bitter smile. She couldn’t quite understand how Lady Wanyan could speak with such confidence, as if certain she would obey.

Yet Yan Yan had no intention of arguing. She simply asked, “Will you be staying the night here, sister?”

Lady Wanyan frowned at Yan Yan, feeling as if her fist had landed on cotton, unable to exert any force.

“Arrange it, I’ll go to the Guanyin Temple to offer incense shortly,” Lady Wanyan ordered. Yan Yan observed her commanding manner, smiling faintly, “I can’t move anyone on the estate. If you wish to go, take your maids and be careful on the road. Forgive me for not seeing you off.”

“You!” Lady Wanyan finally lost patience, storming to her feet and glaring at Yan Yan.

Yan Yan pursed her lips and looked at her, speaking each word clearly, “There’s one thing you may have always misunderstood, sister. Yan Yan has never coveted the status of a Wanyan daughter, so please inform Lady Shumulu not to concern herself with me any longer.”

Lady Wanyan was utterly stunned. She had imagined many possibilities, but never that Yan Yan would give up her identity as a Wanyan daughter. In the Great Qing, a proper Eight Banners identity meant wealth and honor.

Ninth Lord, too, was left speechless—but his reason was that he had never realized Yan Yan had such a beautiful name, especially hearing it spoken by her own lips.