In the afternoon, there was already a hint of spring under the wisteria trellis in the west wing of the Zheng residence. Tender buds sprouted among the withered vines, trembling in the cool spring breeze.
Zheng Wanqing wrapped her cloak tightly around herself and watched the maid carefully setting up the tea and snacks.
"Miss, the fourth lady is here." The maid reported softly outside the moon-shaped door.
Zheng Qingyi came over with small steps, with only a plain silver hairpin in her hair, which made her look even plainer than the one on the dining table.
She was wearing a light blue jacket and skirt with a moon-colored silk sash tied around her waist, and she looked like a lady drawn from an ink painting.
However, those almond-shaped eyes that were lively in the past were now dull and lifeless, with a faint blue shadow under them.
She came closer, folded her hands at her waist, and bowed politely: "Third sister."
The voice was so soft that it was almost inaudible, with a certain deliberate distance.
She lowered her eyes, and her long eyelashes cast a shadow on her face.
Zheng Wanqing's gaze lingered on Zheng Qingyi's face for a moment, and she couldn't help but frowned her willow-leaf eyebrows.
She noticed that her sister's originally round cheeks had become much thinner, and even her chin had become pointed, making her eyes look even bigger.
"Please sit down," she said softly, pointing to the stone bench covered with brocade mats, "I asked the kitchen to prepare almond pastry, which is your favorite."
Zheng Qingyi sat down gently on the edge of the stone bench, straightened her back, and folded her hands on her knees.
Zheng Wanqing raised her hand and pointed at the maid beside her: "You all go down, we won't serve you here anymore."
When the footsteps of the maids gradually disappeared at the end of the corridor, she gently pushed the teacup in front of her: "You just had dinner, drink some hot tea to help digestion."
The tea is the best Biluochun, with a faint fragrance floating in the mist.
Zheng Qingyi picked up the teacup, lowered her head and took a sip. The tea created tiny ripples in the cup.
"Sister, if you have anything to say, just say it."
Zheng Wanqing looked at her drooping eyelashes and decided to get straight to the point: "Qingyi, do you know what kind of person Chen Chong'an is?"
Zheng Qingyi gently tapped the teacup in her hand onto the stone table.
She raised her eyes, and a subtle fluctuation flashed in her eyes: "But I met him once at the Spring Tea Party." She paused, and her voice became even lower, "Of course I know... He has a legal wife."
"I heard..." Zheng Wanqing leaned forward unconsciously, not even noticing that her cape had slipped off her shoulders, "He kept two actresses as mistresses, and once caused a scandal by forcing a maid to death. The police station's case files clearly state that it was the Chen family who paid the money to suppress the scandal."
Zheng Qingyi's lips curled up into a strange smile, which was a bit self-deprecating and bitter.
"Sister, did you come here specially to break up the engagement?" Her voice suddenly rose, with a slight tremor at the end. "Or..." She lowered her voice, with a hint of sarcasm, "The young marshal's family is in need of a concubine, and sister came here specially to look for a candidate?"
Zheng Wanqing's face suddenly darkened, "Qingyi!"
Her almond-shaped eyes were staring at her sister opposite her, with suppressed anger surging in her eyes.
She never imagined that her good intentions would be misinterpreted in this way.
She took a deep breath, letting the late winter chill fill her lungs.
"I just want to know whether you are willing to this marriage."
"Willingly?" Zheng Qingyi let out a short sneer.
She raised her head suddenly, her eyes flashing with sarcasm: "Everyone in Tianjin knows that the young commander refused to take a concubine for my sister. My sister is so lucky that she naturally doesn't know what reluctance means."
"I envy my sister. The young marshal is young and promising, and he is also handsome..." The voice suddenly lowered, "But didn't my sister marry him for these reasons?"
Her fingers unconsciously twisted the corners of her clothes, wrinkling the fine silk.
Zheng Wanqing looked at her sister's pointed chin and tight mouth, and her heart ached.
She reached out and held the teacup, letting the hot wall of the cup burn her palm: "Qingyi, don't you know...why I married you back then?"
Zheng Qingyi's fingertips suddenly trembled, knocking over the teacup in front of her.
The warm tea flowed freely on the bluestone table, and a few drops splashed onto her light-colored skirt.
Her face turned grim in an instant, and her lips trembled slightly.
Zheng Wanqing hurriedly took out an embroidered silk handkerchief to wipe it, but the handkerchief fell on the tea stains and was quickly soaked.
"It's different now, you can..."
"What can I do?" Zheng Qingyi's laughter was a little sad. "Work in a newspaper like my sister? Or teach in a girls' school like Sister Bai Xiao? I can't even recognize all 26 foreign letters, but the embroidery patterns I make can be sold for a few dollars." Her voice became more and more rapid, and her chest heaved violently.
"No matter how unbearable Master Chen is..." Zheng Qingyi stood up suddenly, her skirt sweeping off a few early wisteria leaves, "at least I can have enough food and clothing. Aunt Zhang said that after I marry him, I will have my own western-style house and four maids to serve me."
Her voice suddenly choked, as if something was blocking her throat.
She bowed quickly and said, "The tea is cold, I'll leave now."
The tea on the stone table had gone cold, the almond pastry was still untouched, and the icing on the surface had melted a little.
Zheng Wanqing picked up a piece, but she had no appetite. Her eyes fell on the place where her sister had just sat.
"Miss, it's windy, let's go back to the house." The maid stood behind her at some point, holding a cloak in her hands and with a worried look on her face.
Zheng Wanqing nodded woodenly and glanced at the cup of cold tea. The tea leaves floating on the surface of the water had sunk to the bottom.
She gathered her temples and said softly, "Let's go."
After taking two steps, he stopped and looked at Zheng Qingyi leaving, muttering: "Forget it, everyone has their own destiny, and you can't force it."
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