Volume 1, Chapter 1: The Bed-Warming Maid

In the deep autumn season, at the first quarter of the hour of the Dog, a fierce north wind howled, shaking the phoenix trees in the courtyard and sending sharp echoes through the empty long corridor, the surroundings wrapped in silence.

By the time Yaoyan finished attending to Third Miss and returned to the servant quarters, dusk had fallen deeply. The crimson river flowed faintly, and a solitary cold moon hung high in the sky. Yet, the servant quarters were unusually lively.

The newly purchased maids stood in small groups, whispering among themselves, frequently glancing toward the courtyard gate, their faces brimming with anticipation.

Ping’er, who shared the same room as Yaoyan, stood in the farthest corner, waving her over, signaling her to come quickly.

Only then did Yaoyan notice that not only the newcomers but also several senior maids who usually kept watch in the young ladies’ quarters had returned, standing prominently at the front.

Puzzled and about to ask Ping’er, the courtyard suddenly fell silent, so quiet that even a pin drop could be heard.

Wang the Steward, courteous and attentive, led in a woman of about fifty, dressed elegantly. Following her, a dozen or so maids and servants carrying lanterns poured into the yard, brightening the small courtyard.

The woman was slender, with her hair meticulously pinned up. Her eyes swept over everyone in the yard without leaving a trace.

Bowing slightly, Wang the Steward smiled and said, “Madam Wu, all the new maids are here this year. Do you see any who catch your eye?”

Madam Wu nodded slightly after surveying the group, her face unreadable but inwardly unsatisfied. Just as she was about to turn away, her gaze lingered on a figure standing in the corner.

There stood a woman dressed plainly in a second-tier maid’s uniform. Though deep autumn had arrived, her clothing was still summer-style, her shoulders slightly hunched as she lowered her eyes, avoiding direct looks.

Taking a step forward, Madam Wu examined the woman’s features and figure more closely, nodding silently in approval, having found a satisfactory candidate.

Wang the Steward followed her gaze and noticed the woman’s graceful posture, her hands clasped calmly before her, her bright eyes and fair teeth revealing a striking beauty.

Compared to her, the others, who had deliberately dressed up after catching wind of the occasion, appeared overly contrived and unworthy of notice.

Madam Wu did not linger long. Yaoyan felt as if she had stood there for less than the time it took to finish a cup of tea before footsteps receded, and the courtyard darkened once more.

The senior maids on watch left in twos and threes, glancing back several times before finally departing with a sense of assurance.

Ping’er patted her chest anxiously and said, “Why is Madam Wu from the Matriarch’s quarters suddenly here to select maids? I wonder if any of us will be chosen. If only they’d take us both away.”

Other maids echoed similar hopes quietly, but Yaoyan remained silent, carrying her basin to wash up.

Ping’er caught up with her and asked, “Don’t you want to leave? Serving in the Matriarch’s quarters is much easier than the work we do here.”

Yaoyan smiled faintly, pressing her lips together, and replied as she closed the door behind her, “Do you think I’m some lucky person? Besides, those who’ve served longer are given priority. I’m unlikely to be selected.”

From the moment she was sold into the household, she had known that harboring hope for something often led to disappointment; it was better not to hope at all.

Moreover, the Third Miss she served was simple-minded but kindhearted, never cruel or abusive like other mistresses. Though serving her was difficult, it was still tolerable.

Ping’er gathered up the dirty clothes for her, feeling sorry but unsure what else to say. Most of them were sold into service due to family hardships; no one would willingly sell their children otherwise.

Only Yaoyan was pitiable—her parents had died, and after coming from Yangzhou to seek refuge with her uncle, her aunt had immediately sold her off under a binding contract.

Thinking of this, Ping’er clenched her teeth, cursing that family silently, convinced retribution would come.

Unaware of Ping’er’s thoughts, Yaoyan finished washing, changed into clean clothes, and carried the dirty laundry outside to wash, telling Ping’er, “You wash inside. I’ll watch over you outside.”

“All right.”

The night wind was icy cold, moonlight spilling over the eaves.

Outside the room, Yaoyan sat on a small stool, rubbing her aching shoulders as the day’s fatigue seemed to be blown away by the wind.

The lamps in the neighboring rooms were still lit, occasional voices drifting over. After resting briefly, she thought to finish washing quickly so she could rest early.

Bailu, who had once shared the room with her, also brought out clothes and, seeing Yaoyan, expressed surprise with a “Oh!” “Long time no see. I thought you’d been taken in by the Young Master’s quarters already. You know there’s good news tonight and came back to stay a night?”

Though they lived in the same courtyard, they did not get along. Yaoyan’s early departures and late returns from serving Third Miss meant they rarely crossed paths.

Yaoyan wrung out the washed clothes, ignoring her.

But Bailu chattered incessantly, confident that Yaoyan, a simple second-tier maid, was powerless against her, emboldening her arrogance.

“What’s wrong? Are you leaving because I said the Young Master likes you and you’re shy? I’m not saying the Young Master isn’t better than the other masters here, just that you’re lucky... Ah!”

Before she finished, a basin of dirty water was dumped straight onto her head. The other maids peeking through the window shrank back in shock, mouths agape. Could Bailu’s words be true?

They secretly hoped the two might fight, making the night less dull.

Carrying the empty wooden basin, Yaoyan shot Bailu a cold glare and said sharply, “I don’t know what good news you’re talking about, but I guess you don’t want to miss out. I’m not so lucky anyway. If you want to make a scene and aren’t afraid of punishment from the stewardess, I’ll play along!”

Usually mild and unassuming, no one expected this temper from her.

Ping’er, having finished washing, was startled by the commotion and hurriedly pulled her inside. Outside, the curses continued.

Yaoyan silently hung the clothes and slipped into bed. She hadn’t intended to respond to Bailu, but Bailu had mentioned the Young Master.

Hearing those words, images of the man’s determined expression surfaced in her mind, along with cruel words her cousin had spoken at her uncle’s home.

“Your parents are dead. If I kick you out, how will you survive? Stay with me, and you’ll have food to eat. Don’t be shameless!”

“You’re a pretentious little courtesan, just like your deadbeat parents!”

Their faces overlapped in her memory, and the back of her hand hurt as though scalded where her cousin had touched it. She rubbed the pain on the bed frame until her hand was red and aching before stopping.

The noise outside had quieted, and then Wang the Steward’s voice rang out. Ping’er shook Yaoyan awake.

“Yaoyan, get up quickly. The Matriarch has summoned you.”

Seeing tears still glistening in her eyes and knowing she hadn’t slept, Ping’er hurriedly fetched her outer garment, pitying her and saying, “The past is past. If you can’t swallow this grievance, show your face before the Matriarch. When we become head maids, there will be many chances to hold our heads high!”

The commotion from Wang the Steward’s arrival stirred others to dress and come out to see.

Only then did Yaoyan realize that this opportunity had truly come to her. She wiped her tears roughly, grasped Ping’er’s hand with cold fingers, and nodded firmly.

The Matriarch’s quarters were far from the servant’s quarters. Yaoyan had no privilege to ride in a sedan chair and followed closely behind Wang the Steward.

The deep autumn wind chilled her thin clothes, and after a while, her face grew pale from the cold.

Wang the Steward glanced at her, seeming to find her somewhat familiar but unable to place her, then asked, “Where is your winter clothing?”

Yaoyan was at a loss for words. Serving Third Miss, who was mentally deficient, the household’s rations had long been nearly cut off, and whatever extras there were never reached a second-tier maid like herself.

After a moment of silence, Wang the Steward suddenly realized and said, “Oh right, you’re from Third Miss’s quarters. No wonder.”

Third Miss was a woman who had been dismissed. Before her dismissal, she was favored; afterward, her reputation was sullied. Her birth mother had died of illness, and the mistress was domineering. No one cared for Third Miss in the household. The Second Master sometimes inquired a few years ago, but as the other family heads aged, they lost interest in tending to the simple-minded daughter.

Wang the Steward sighed, “Poor child.”

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