Ziran felt a deep sense of melancholy. She wanted to say something, but in the end, she only nodded.

When Su Zhen straightened up and prepared to leave, Ziran stopped her and told her to wait. She quickly returned to her room, opened her chests and jewelry boxes, and took out two sets of unworn new clothes along with a full set of floral head ornaments. She placed them into Su Zhen’s hands.

“Thank you for serving me faithfully all these years. These are a small token of my appreciation—consider them part of your dowry.” She pressed them firmly into Su Zhen’s hands, insisting she accept them. “As you marry, I hope you find a good home, settle yourself well, and take care of your family. But if your marriage ever turns unhappy, don’t keep it to yourself—come back to me, and we’ll find a way together again. My father and brothers are officials. Though they would never use their status to pressure others, if you are wronged, I would even go to court and cry out for justice to support you.”

Tears immediately welled up in Su Zhen’s eyes.

What a blessed household this was—to raise such a kind-hearted young lady. She had friends in other noble households who were also contracted maidservants, yet none of them were as fortunate as her, none had such a considerate mistress who understood warmth and hardship.

Too moved to speak further, she bowed deeply in farewell, wiping her tears as she left.

Ziran stood in the covered corridor, watching her slowly disappear into the distance, feeling only sorrow.

Girls were different from boys. A woman’s life in the inner chambers was nothing more than reading, painting, and embroidery, and once she came of age, she would begin to be matched for marriage. Then she would move from one inner courtyard to another, meet different people, and endure different grievances.

Sometimes she even thought—it might be better to remain unmarried forever, to stay an old maid in her family. Let none of the sisters marry at all. Of course, that annoying Seventh Miss would still need to be married off quickly, so she wouldn’t keep stabbing at her every day with hidden barbs.

Morning and evening greetings to the elders were rules of the Tan household, though evening greetings were less formal than the morning ones. Male elders and older brothers were often occupied with official duties and did not always attend, which was fine. The women and younger sons without office titles would simply pay respects and then return to their own quarters.

Ziran usually had dinner with her grandmother in Kui Garden, where she also had her own small room and stayed for the night.

That evening, she went into the garden to check whether the jasmine had begun to bud. If it had, she would pick the tender buds and collect them to make jasmine sugar.

The old lady stood under the corridor watching her and chuckled.
“You check it eight hundred times a day. I already told you—it’s not the season yet. Where would the flowers come from? Come inside, don’t catch a chill.”

Only then did Ziran reluctantly turn back, helping the old lady inside as she said, “The crabapple in the garden is about to bloom.”

The old lady replied, “Then think about making crabapple sugar instead of jasmine sugar.”

After sitting down, she asked, “What is your mother planning to do about that matter?”

Ziran replied, “We’ll invite her tomorrow and meet her first.” She stood by the footstool, taking a towel from a maid and handing it to her grandmother.

The old lady wiped her face and said, “Meeting her is good. Observe first, then act. Think carefully before you move. You must remember this: treat people according to their nature. We do not harm others, but if someone insists on provoking you, then do not hold back. Understand?”

Ziran answered yes.

The next morning, everything proceeded as usual. After paying respects and breakfast, she followed her mother back to Sheyuan Garden. Madam Zhu’s maid, Nurse Qu, had already gone to the residence of the Imperial Medical Office official.

Ziran glanced at the water clock anxiously. “Madam, what if she doesn’t come?”

Madam Zhu remained calm. “She will come. No need to rush.”

And indeed, after about an hour, word came from outside—Miss Tian had arrived.

Ziran quickly hid behind a screen.

Soon, Nurse Qu led in a young girl with a slender, willow-like figure. Just from her appearance, she indeed resembled Ziran’s sister by three parts.

Madam Zhu smiled gently, examining her from head to toe. She helped her up and seated her on a rosewood chair.

“I’ve long heard of you,” she said warmly. “I’ve always wanted to meet you but never had the chance. People say you resemble my second daughter. Seeing you today, it is indeed true—I already feel quite close to you. How old are you this year? How many siblings do you have? Are they all married?”

Miss Tian replied politely, “I am eighteen. I have two elder sisters, both already married. I remain at home, wishing to serve my parents a few more years and learn some medical skills from my father.”

Madam Zhu immediately recognized this as a rehearsed answer. But she still smiled and praised her.

After some polite exchanges, Madam Zhu began asking about her medical studies, clearly testing her abilities.

Miss Tian grew slightly nervous but still answered modestly, admitting she was only at a beginner level.

After further pleasantries, Madam Zhu suddenly said warmly, “You and my daughter are about the same age. If you were not careful, people might think you were a Tan family girl.”

Hearing this, Miss Tian’s expression stiffened slightly. She lowered her gaze and said softly,
“I am merely an insignificant vine. I do not dare compare myself to Miss Tan, who is a prized crabapple. I only need a little light to survive, unlike her who shines on her own.”

Behind the screen, Ziran and Madam Zhu both understood the implication immediately.

Madam Zhu quickly softened her tone, redirecting the conversation, praising her resilience and difficult upbringing.

Then, Old Nurse Gu jokingly suggested, “Why not recognize her as a foster daughter? That would make things more-lively in the household.”

After some discussion, Madam Zhu took Ziran’s suggestion from earlier into consideration: the invitation had been verbal, without formal documentation. So even if anything went wrong, it could easily be denied.

Eventually, Madam Zhu personally offered to adopt Miss Tian as her foster daughter.

After weighing the benefits, Miss Tian accepted.

To her, this was a golden opportunity—gaining the Tan family’s name meant access to high society and a powerful backing.

She immediately knelt and agreed.

Madam Zhu was delighted and even gave her a set of fine spring clothing as a gift.

Miss Tian was told she would accompany the Tan family to a spring banquet at Prince Yi’s residence the next day.

Her heart filled with excitement—this was a level of nobility she had never been able to reach before.

After she left, Madam Zhu sighed and said to Ziran behind the screen,
“You heard everything. She is a vine that only needs a little light. Fortunately, we met her today—otherwise, given time, she might have become an entangling parasitic vine.”

Ziran finally stepped out.

“Doesn’t it worry you that she might damage the Tan family’s reputation after becoming your foster daughter?”

Madam Zhu smiled. “Wasn’t it your idea to keep things verbal and unofficial? Without written proof, nothing can be confirmed. Even if she entered the Tan household today, as long as we deny it, no one will believe it.”

Ziran smiled awkwardly. “I only wanted to avoid unnecessary trouble.”

Madam Zhu then said lightly,
“As for tomorrow’s banquet… I’m afraid she may not even wait for you to take her. She might enter ahead of you all.”