maidservant

Chapter 10: Yan Yu discusses the embroidery girl's suicide by jumping into a well
This was especially true for concubines of humble status. They might, at some point, luckily win the master's favor thanks to their beauty or talent. From then on, they enjoyed every luxury, adorned with silk and satin, and delicacies from land and sea. But this favor, like rootless duckweed, was fragile and fleeting.

But one day, just because of a minor mistake or the master's momentary boredom, they will be ruthlessly abandoned, and the former favor will be gone, leaving only endless loneliness and desolation. They will lick their wounds alone in the cold and lonely courtyard, and even their beauty may be ruined.

On the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, the snow fell heavily. The branches of the old plum tree in the Fifth Aunt's courtyard finally couldn't bear the weight and broke with a "crack" beside the koi pond full of ice.

A half-broken yellow talisman floated beneath the frozen water, and the cinnabar-painted Big Dipper pattern was stirred into blood-like ripples by the fish's tail.

"Everyone get out! Get out!"

The fifth concubine walked barefoot in the snow, her faded marigold nightgown wrapped around her bony shoulders.

Her favorite gilded necklace and blue-top hairpin were nowhere to be found, and her fingers, like dead branches, were clutching an empty porcelain vase.

Brown medicine residue was condensed at the mouth of the bottle, emitting a bitter smell in the cold wind.

The old women who were on night watch huddled in the side room, warming themselves by the fire, and let her walk around in circles in the courtyard.

Snowflakes fell into her messy hair.

She suddenly raised her head and laughed, startling the crows under the eaves and flying away: "The Yan family is a man-eating devil's den, hahahahahaha"

When the third watch gong sounded mixed with the sound of the wind, the last of the angry wind lanterns went out.

Fifth Auntie huddled under the plum tree, her dark brocade robe soaked with snow. She grabbed a handful of snow and stuffed it into her mouth.

At the first quarter of the morning, the maid who had brought medicine pushed open the courtyard gate. The snow had already reached her ankles. Fifth Aunt lay in the shadow of the plum blossoms, her hair covered in a layer of glittering snow.

There was a smile on her lips, as if she was wearing a red makeup and entering the Yan Mansion.

"Fifth Aunt is dead!"

When the shout broke through the morning mist, the Fourth Aunt was staring at the scarlet words "deficit on the farm" in the account book.

The silver bracelet on her wrist touched the inkstone, and a clear echo echoed in the silent hall, just like the rustling sound of white silk brushing against the thousand-workman bed when the lady hanged herself that year.

The autumn wind blew dead leaves around in front of the mourning hall. The thin coffin of the fifth concubine was placed on the bluestone slabs in the side yard. The ashes of paper money were stuck in the damp moss. There was not even a relative to mourn.

The third concubine came over, holding the maid's hand, and placed the jade pillow covered with red silk in front of the coffin. The fragrance of powder mixed with sandalwood made people's throats tight.

"My lord personally gifted them with a pair." Her nails, stained with balsam juice, peeled back the silk cloth. A gilded cloud pattern wrapped around a Hetian jade core glowed eerily under the incense and candles. "Sister, take one and leave the other in the afterlife as a reminder."

Several servants in the corner twisted their handkerchiefs and sneered. Everyone knew that the third concubine had just been promoted to a concubine that year, and the master had specially invited twelve jade craftsmen from the south to make it to please her.

Suddenly, there was a sound of porcelain breaking in the front yard, and the housekeeper came running over breathlessly: "Madam, please go home and persuade him, the eldest brother-in-law has smashed the study again!" Ever since the Ministry of War embezzlement case was exposed, the young man who used to be dressed in fine clothes and rides a horse has been drunk in the east wing all day long.

Nowadays, Miss Yan Zhen goes to the Shangshu Mansion every few days, and the peacock embroidered with gold thread on the vermilion sedan curtain is covered with mud.

Miss Yu hastily arranged a marriage with a man from the Tang family near the outskirts of Beijing, whose name was Tang Wenyao. He was a disciple of the master and had passed the imperial examination this year and was waiting to be assigned an official position.

Miss Yu was staring at the diamond-shaped mirror in a daze, the candlelight making her face, which still had some baby fat, flicker.

The ruby ​​headpiece that Tang Wenyao sent today was still on the dressing table, and under the box was the half-finished poem "Magpie Bridge Fairy".

The scholar always wore a moon-white robe, with a mutton-fat jade pendant given by his master hanging around his waist. His eyes drooped slightly as he spoke, making him look like a gentleman straight out of a painting. "Young lady, do you really want to believe what's written in the imperial examination record?"

Gan Tang suddenly held Miss Yu's hand as she was drawing her eyebrows, and the rouge in the copper basin rippled slightly. "Yesterday, when I went to the outer courtyard to get some ice, I saw Mr. Tang's servant stuffing banknotes into the hands of the pawnshop owner."

The drumming outside the window startled the crows, and the jade pillow in front of the coffin suddenly cracked.

The Fifth Aunt's personal maid was kneeling on a mat burning paper when the flames suddenly shot up three inches, blackening half of the lotus lamps on the altar.

After today, she didn't know whose courtyard she would be assigned to. A servant's life was never in her own hands.

On the day of Frost's Descent, Miss Shen, a famous embroiderer in the West Market of the capital, walked into the west corner gate carrying a bamboo embroidery basket and a faded silk hibiscus flower pinned to her temples, to make a wedding dress for Miss Yu.

When she measured clothes, she always liked to pin a bone needle on her collar. The glass beads hanging on the end of the needle would make slight sounds as she moved, like bird-scare chimes on the eaves blown by the wind.

She deliberately took out a small enamel box from the bottom of her bag and said, "This is pomegranate rouge mixed with dew." When her fingertips tested the color on the back of Gan Tang's hand, it was as cold as a jade bracelet soaked in well water.

The floating brocade that the third concubine gave to Gan Qing and Gan Tang was spread out on the bluestone table. The material was good, but the pattern was popular in the past few years.

Madam Shen stared at Gan Tang's Guanyin mole in a trance.

"Can I also embroider a pair of albizzia flowers for you?" She suddenly pulled out a golden and red silk thread from her purse and asked Gan Tang for a strand of hair. "This is a love embroidery from Nanzhao. It uses the long black hair of a young girl to ensure a happy marriage."

Gan Tang liked this embroiderer, who was about 27 or 28 years old and had a gentle and kind appearance.

The Jingzhe rainstorm came suddenly. When Madam Shen rushed into the moon-shaped doorway, protecting her wedding dress, her pomegranate skirt was torn by a dead branch. Gan Tang saw that she looked unhappy and asked a few more questions.

Two night watchmen, drunken and intoxicated, had surrounded her. The man with the pockmarked face in the lead tugged at the silk sash at her waist, saying, "With such skillful hands, you should embroider a picture of mandarin ducks playing in the water for me." Madam Shen knew from his attire that he was one of the heads of the Yan residence, so she had no choice but to endure his teasing.

When Gan Tang rushed over after hearing the noise, he only had time to catch the embroidery basket that had fallen loose from Madam Shen. A half-broken jade hairpin rolled out of it, and the hibiscus flower carved on the hairpin was stained with fresh blood.

After the embroiderer left the yard, Gan Tang found a plain brocade purse in the gap of the dressing table. The opening of the purse was tied with a red rope. It was dropped by the embroiderer.

When Gan Tang chased to the back alley with the purse, he saw a string of wet embroidered shoe prints on the moss at the base of the wall. When he turned around the woodshed, he suddenly heard the sound of a clay pot breaking.

She walked forward with the lamp in hand and saw two servants of the Yan Mansion running away in a hurry, leaving behind the embroiderer with disheveled clothes and tear-stained face.

The lantern illuminated Madam Shen, who had fallen beside a pickle jar. Her stiff fingers were clutching a faded silk handkerchief, and half a cassia flower was visible from the wet collar of her inner garment.

Gan Tang calmed himself down and sent her back to the street corner not far from her shop. Because curfew was about to begin, Gan Tang had to return home immediately.

I had just turned around and taken a few steps when I heard a "bang".

The embroiderer jumped into the well.

Gan Tang was stunned. She was scared and hurriedly turned the "Yan" on the lamp to the front.

In a well-governed society, every girl can still survive in the world by relying on the good government and a skill.

　Everyone~ From February 2th to February 18nd, this novel will be participating in the ranking. Please read the two newly updated chapters every day. This "reading rate" is very important to me! Thank you! ~~~
　　
　
(End of this chapter)