Chapter 13: Secret Collusion

Night wind slipped in. Autumn was deepening, and the capital—far north—bit harder every day.
Lamplight pooled on the couch where Shen Miao lay with a book, turning pages without hurry. The tea at her elbow had gone cold. She never noticed.
Bailu watched her mistress and felt the room change. Overnight this girl was not the girl she knew. Even now, sitting quiet with a book—if she did not know better, she would swear some great lady had borrowed the body.
What little miss carried weight like that? Bailu stood frozen until Shuangjiang shoved her. "Gawking again?" She crossed the room and settled a cloak on Shen Miao's shoulders. "Miss, it's late. Guangwen Hall tomorrow—you should sleep."
Shen Miao shook her head. "You go. I'll read a while."
Maids did not bed down before their mistress. Shuangjiang opened her mouth to argue; Guyu, fresh tea in hand, towed her and Bailu into the outer room.
"Guyu, what's wrong?" Bailu whispered. "Miss only just got well. Why didn't you talk her round?"
"I did talk." Guyu kneaded her temples. "She won't hear it. She's been at that book all day—likely schoolwork. If she's set her mind, what can we do?" She glanced back at the inner door, uneasy. When the miss had been timid, someone else always chose for her. Now she chose—and nobody talked back. Serving close, Guyu felt it worst: a word from Shen Miao landed like law.
Soft voice, still—yet you obeyed before you knew why. Even the general's temper had never chilled her like this.
Inside, the pages kept turning.
She was reading *The Official History of Ming Qi*, and she was not skimming. She knew what the next decades would bring. Before she could blunt any of it, she had to know where every great house stood today.
The purge was coming. Unless something broke the pattern, next month would be blood. The enemy of your enemy is kin—and once the clans fell, the Shen name would be on the list.
Until Shen Xin came home, the west wing had only her. And the east wing still had its wolves.
She had read Gui right. That night the nanny showed up at Rongjing Hall with country gifts and lingered by Nanny Zhang, Old Madam's woman, with a mouthful of gossip: Fifth Girl turning contrary, punishing servants for sport.
Zhang heard the pitch and gave her nothing to grip. Gui asked for a good word with the old woman and left.
She had barely cleared the courtyard when Xianglan, Ren Wanyun's girl, came up smiling. "Nanny Gui—I've been hunting you."
Gui squinted, recognized her, and smiled wider. "What does Miss Xianglan need?"
"Nothing grave. My mistress heard you know where they sell lip rouge the ladies fancy. She wanted the shop."
Everyone knew the rouge was an excuse. Ren Wanyun wanted a private talk. Gui played along. "Easy. I'll tell her. Half the capital buys there anyway…"
In Caiyun Courtyard the outer servants had been cleared.
Ren Wanyun sat on the couch. Second Master was still out. She had needlework in her lap—maybe a pouch—and picked at grapes from a dish beside her.
Grapes, this late in the year. You could not buy them in the capital unless you had pull. Second Master had brought a basket home for his women.
Gui swallowed a curse. The second branch looked generous toward the main line on the surface, yet Fifth Girl's table was all flash and no class—merchant gaudiness. Grapes like these never reached the west wing.
Ren Wanyun set down her needle. "Nanny Gui."
Gui started. "Mistress. Your servant is here."
Forty, well kept, fine lines at the eyes—but still every inch the mistress of a great house. Even her smile had teeth.
"I heard you're back. Little Five is mending. See she is cared for."
Gui nearly laughed. Who in the east wing did not pray for the west wing's fall? Ren Wanyun went on, mild as milk, "These days the child's mood is poor after the pond. With her parents away, anything I do as aunt is wrong. If I want truth, it has to come through you."
She wanted Shen Miao watched.
Gui rushed to oblige. "Mistress shows such kindness—Fifth Girl is blessed. Still, the fall angered her. She's not herself, even with me. Today, for nothing, she docked three months' pay." Her face crumpled. "I heard she was drowning and ran back, left my sick grandson—and she scolded me. Your servant's heart aches."
Ren Wanyun was done with hints about money. "Heart-sickness, that's all. Tell me, Nanny—has she turned from Prince Ding?"
That was the question.
Gui's eyes slid. "She talks like she wants distance—won't let me name him. But I've raised her. On Prince Ding she's stubborn. She won't drop it that easy. Girls say things in a temper. Don't believe her."
Ren Wanyun's smile went sharp.