Chapter 7: Making Amends

Steward Song had just blown out his lamp and draped his outer robe over a chair. He was about to climb into bed when someone knocked.

Thinking a servant must have an urgent problem, he slipped on his shoes and opened the door. In the moonlight stood the young miss in a pale yellow dress, chin raised and looking exceedingly haughty.

“Good heavens!” He instinctively stepped back, snatched up his robe, and wrapped it around himself. “Young Miss, let me get dressed!”

Chenxue looked him up and down, puzzled. “Aren’t you dressed?”

He glanced down. His inner robe and trousers were perfectly neat; only his outer robe was missing.

“I still need this!” he said, fastening it in a hurry. “A young lady barging into this old servant’s room in the middle of the night—what would people think if they saw?”

“You make such a fuss.” She leaned against the doorframe, folded her arms, and waited impatiently.

When the last button was fastened, he tugged his robe straight and checked that he was presentable. Only then did he ask gravely, “Young Miss, what business couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I need some things.”

“Tell your maid. I don’t have the storeroom key…” He broke off and narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Did you break something again and come to me secretly for a replacement? When you smashed the vase in the master’s study, you came at midnight and made me find another before dawn…”

“I did not!” Her face reddened and her voice rose.

“Then you’ve been bullying young Chen again?” His tone turned coaxing. “I saw him this afternoon. His clothes were torn to pieces, and he wouldn’t tell me what happened. He may be a little odd and a bit stingy, but he works honestly and never shirks. He earns so little each month. If you tear his clothes, it costs him money to mend them. The poor boy has it hard enough…”

“That’s what I came about!” His lecture was giving her a headache. “I want a new mattress and two new sets of men’s clothes. Sturdy ones.”

The steward stopped mid-sentence, mouth open. He blinked, lowered his voice, and leaned closer. “Young Miss, has your conscience finally awakened?”

“What did you say?”

“I’ve served the Yu family thirty years, and this is the first time I’ve seen you ask for something for a servant of your own accord. Didn’t you always take your temper out on young Chen? Has the sun risen in the west?” His eyes grew moist. “I knew your nature wasn’t bad; you just have a fierce temper. That boy has suffered. When I found him on the street two years ago, he was skin and bones and didn’t even have decent clothes…”

“Steward Song,” Chenxue interrupted, expressionless.

“Yes?”

“Are you getting them or not?”

“Of course, of course!” He turned to rummage in a cupboard, still talking. “There are new cotton mattresses in the storeroom. I’ll fetch one. We had a batch of summer clothes made for the servants recently; a few haven’t been handed out yet and should fit young Chen. Oh, his bed leg is loose too. I’ll get a carpenter to fix it tomorrow…”

“No carpenter!” The words escaped her before she could stop them. Realizing her mistake, she hurried to cover it. “He… he can fix it himself. He said so.”

Song looked back at her, his expression suddenly knowing. “When did you and young Chen have such a long conversation? Did he report to you that he could mend his bed leg?”

Her ears burned. Through clenched teeth, she said, “Are you going to fetch those things?”

“Yes, yes, I’m going.” He found a lantern in the cupboard, lit it, and shuffled outside. Passing her, he paused. “I’ll deliver them first thing tomorrow. You should get some rest, Young Miss. It’s damp and chilly so late at night; you might catch cold.”

Chenxue remained where she was, watching him carry the lantern toward the storeroom. “Wait.”

He turned back.

“Well…” She cleared her throat and looked away. “How much does he actually earn each month?”

“Thirty copper coins a day, with food and lodging. Even working every day, it comes to less than a tael of silver a month.”

Less than a tael. Chenxue lowered her eyes. The hairpin she had bought cost three hundred spirit stones. A tael of silver wouldn’t buy even one low-grade spirit stone. What she had casually spent on a hairpin would pay for him to chop wood at the Yu Estate for ten years.

“That’s too little,” she said softly.

Song blinked, then smiled, the wrinkles at his eyes bunching together. “That’s the usual wage for servants, Young Miss. I already pay him twenty percent more than other households. Don’t start handing out money because you feel sorry for him. The estate has its rules.”

“Who feels sorry for him?” She sniffed and turned away.

He called after her, “I’ll fetch the things now and deliver them tomorrow…”

“Not tomorrow!” she called without looking back. “Take them to him yourself tonight.”

Song watched the yellow figure vanish around the corridor and slowly stroked his graying beard.

Something was wrong. The young miss was far too strange today.

He carried the lantern toward the storeroom, thoughts racing. She had come back from the west courtyard that afternoon. Young Chen’s clothes had been torn that afternoon. Tonight she wanted men’s clothes and a mattress, and she knew his bed leg was loose and that he could fix it himself…

Song stopped so abruptly that the lantern swung.

Wait. The more he thought about it, the more it sounded as if the young miss had broken the boy’s bed and torn his clothes.

But… how?

He pondered for a moment, then decided to stop. After a lifetime managing servants, Steward Song believed there were some things better left unknown.