Chapter 10: Curious Airs

Morning sunlight filtered through the tent’s canvas as Mei Chen helped Xiulan into her emerald silk robe. The fabric whispered against Xiulan’s skin while skilled fingers secured each tie and smoothed each fold.

“The guards spoke with the woodsmen last night,” Mei Chen said, adjusting the robe’s collar. “They seemed dismissive at first, but once they learned everyone hailed from Blackmere they seemed to get along.”

“That should make today’s work simpler.” Xiulan stood still as Mei Chen continued her ministrations.

“They exchanged family names too.” Mei Chen secured the final tie. “Guard Liu discovered he shared great-grandparents with one of the woodsmen. Three others found similar connections.”

Xiulan processed that information. Most Blackmere citizens lived and died within the county borders—their roots stretching back generations. These unexpected family ties weren’t strange at all.

Mei Chen retrieved the ornate dagger from its silk wrapping. Xiulan secured it beneath the flowing sleeve of her robe, testing the draw before being satisfied.

“Do you have yours?” Xiulan asked.

“Yes Miss.” Mei Chen touched her thigh briefly, ducking her head.

“Thank you, Mei Chen.” Xiulan stepped closer. “Your dedication means more than you know.”

Tears welled in Mei Chen’s eyes. Xiulan pulled her into a quick embrace, feeling the young maid’s shoulders shake slightly before they separated.

The tent’s canvas rustled behind Xiulan as servants broke down the temporary shelter. Morning dew sparkled on grass crushed flat from their overnight camp. Mei Chen fell into step beside her as they approached the guard leader who stood reviewing supply lists near the convoy wagons.

“The injured men will travel in the supply wagon,” Xiulan said. “The others will accompany us on foot to Lin Manor.”

The guard’s shoulders stiffened. “Miss Lin, with respect, additional travelers would slow our progress significantly.”

“We’ll reach the manor before nightfall, regardless.” Xiulan squared her shoulders. “These are our people. Blackmere takes care of its own.”

His jaw worked as he glanced between the woodsmen and their depleted supply wagon. “The roads are treacherous, Miss Lin.”

“All the more reason not to leave injured men to fend for themselves.”

The guard’s resistance crumbled. He bowed deeply. “Your wisdom and generosity brings honor to the Lin family, Miss Lin.”

“Thank you, Miss Lin!” One of the woodsmen dropped to his knees. “We’ll never forget this kindness.”

“Please, stand.” Xiulan gestured for him to rise. “There’s no need for such formality today.”

She turned toward their carriage, Mei Chen matching her measured stride across the dewy grass.

It took longer than she expected for them to get moving and by the time the convoy lurched forward, the late morning sun was already beaming. Through the carriage window, Xiulan studied the supply wagon where injured woodsmen rested on hastily arranged bedding. Their healthier companions trudged ahead, surrounded by alert guards who maintained a protective formation around the expanded group.

Something about the woodsmen being turned away and denied aid prickled. The manor’s standard operating procedures included basic care for citizens in need—it protected both the family’s reputation and their economic interests. Even the most junior servant understood the principle.

No servant would risk Father’s face like that. They’d sooner cut off their own hand.

The carriage wheels bumped over a rut, jostling Xiulan from her musings. The landlord’s actions made even less sense. Forsaking reliable tenants destroyed steady income streams. If the men had been provided time, they would have rebuilt, surely.

So why evict and run them off? Even the greediest official understood basic economics.

Somehow, the landlord expected to make more from an unworked plot than an occupied one. That made no sense. There had to be more to it.

Was it just some personal grudge or squabble?

Xiulan tapped her fingers against the lacquered windowsill. The Treasure Pavilion’s package wouldn’t arrive for days—plenty of time to investigate the mystery. At minimum, she could ensure the men received proper care and transport to the city.

Father values face above all else. A daughter who preserves it becomes invaluable, and one who ruins it will be scorned.

The gentle rumble of the carriage reminded her of the cramped bus rides to her retail job—though the smell of leather and polished wood proved far more pleasant than diesel fumes and stale coffee.

Life in the city slum taught her valuable lessons about survival. Lin Qian and Lin Fei operated like the neighborhood bullies who preyed on perceived weakness, backed by their mother’s authority just as those thugs had hidden behind gang affiliations.

The old Xiulan submitted to their demands, accepting scraps of dignity while they flourished under Madam Zhang’s favoritism. That meek acceptance is over.

Memories of her past life stabbed through Xiulan’s thoughts like shards of broken glass. She focused instead on Zhang Wei, sprawled across the carriage seat opposite her. His small chest rose and fell in peaceful slumber, dark hair tousled across his forehead.

“Young Master Wei entertained the guards at the campfire until the moon reached its peak.” Mei Chen whispered from beside Xiulan, fighting back an amused smile. “The stories grew quite animated near the end.”

“Let him rest.” Xiulan kept her voice soft. “He deserves some peace.”

The carriage rocked gently as Xiulan studied her sleeping brother. Strange how quickly affection had bloomed where Li Mei’s life held only emptiness. She had no siblings. Her parents manifested as harsh words and slammed doors, their presence marked by absence until she fled to college on borrowed dreams.

Art History had seemed like such a romantic choice then. No one bothered to mention how useless that degree would prove in the real world. Her professors smiled and nodded, content to let her drift toward inevitable disappointment.

Xiulan glanced at Mei Chen, who sat primly beside her organizing correspondence. The young maid’s dedication shone like a guiding star. Her new world had given her something precious—people worth protecting.

A week had passed since she opened her eyes in a new body. In that brief time, she had grown bonds stronger than anything she had in twenty-four years of her previous life.

Maybe it was just Xiulan’s influence, but she didn’t care. She wanted it.

The thought both comforted and terrified her.

Because she wasn’t going to show any mercy to those who threatened them.

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The Lin Family Manor’s gates loomed overhead as the convoy passed beneath their shadow. Xiulan stepped down from the carriage onto the cobblestones, steadying Zhang Wei as he stumbled sleepily beside her. Mei Chen followed close behind.

Servants scattered across the courtyard like startled birds, unprepared for their early return. A senior steward stood frozen near the main hall, clutching his ledger.

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“Steward.” Xiulan strode toward him with purpose. “Please arrange quarters in the low guest courtyard for our injured woodsmen. They require medical attention and proper meals.”

The steward blinked rapidly. “I... yes, Miss Lin. At once.”

Guards began unloading supplies and helping the wounded men. A commotion at the gate to the inner pavilion drew Xiulan’s attention. Fresh hoofbeats echoed across the stones as another group of guards entered, surrounding a familiar figure.

Ice spread through Xiulan’s chest. Lin Jin sat atop his mount, every inch the entitled heir in his fine silk robes. His gaze swept over the woodsmen with naked revulsion before landing on Zhang Wei.

Xiulan gripped Zhang Wei’s shoulders, drawing him close. Her younger brother trembled beneath her touch.

“Zhang Wei.” Lin Jin’s voice cut through the bustling courtyard. “Why do you allow such filth to touch you? Come—your studies await.”

Zhang Wei’s shoulders slumped. The confident boy from their journey vanished, replaced by a shell that made Xiulan’s chest ache. He stepped away from her with downcast eyes.

“Go on.” Xiulan squeezed his arm. “Your studies are important.”

Lin Jin smirked from atop his mount. “How predictable. Trash collecting more trash.” He gestured at the injured woodsmen. “Keep your refuse contained, sister. We wouldn’t want the manor to become... sullied.”

“Of course, Elder Brother Jin.” Xiulan bowed with precise formality. “I’ll watch everything very carefully.”

Lin Jin studied her for a moment before dismissing her with a wave. He turned his horse, Zhang Wei trailing behind the horses like a lost puppy.

The urge to flee the courtyard’s suffocating atmosphere overwhelmed her. Xiulan strode toward the manor’s eastern wing, Mei Chen’s footsteps echoing behind her on the cobblestones.

Her next steps were clear: she needed to check her room and then greet her mother. Her actual mother, not the witch who held the position of matriarch of the family.

As they moved along the paths between the various walled courtyards, the lavish decor began to fade.

Intricately carved pillars and silk draperies gave way to plain wooden beams and simple paper lanterns. The immaculate and ornate trappings of the manor fell away, revealing a neatly cleaned and cared-for but more modest setting.

Servants bustled quietly, their gazes fixed on the ground. Guests never saw the back courtyards; the finery wasn’t wasted on the house’s minor members or staff. The contrast was stark, and a precarious reminder.

A frustrated breath escaped her lips. The inequality pressed heavier, amplifying her resolve.

Reaching her quarters, she pushed the door open and paused. It was worse than she remembered—a cramped room with a double bunk bed that left little space to move. Mei Chen’s bunk occupied the top. Despite the obvious care that had gone into the space, it was hard not to compare to the room she’d occupied during the festival in Blackmere.

Sharing a room with Mei Chen didn’t bother her. Actually, for Li Mei, the space was perfect. If it had been offered to her before she’d been transmigrated, along with a nice roommate like Mei Chen, she would have taken it happily in a heartbeat.

But for someone of Xiulan’s status, it was wholly inappropriate. A calculated attack on her reputation and authority.

“Mei Chen,” she said, turning to face her maid.

“Yes, miss?” Mei Chen replied, her eyes attentive.

“Please find the household manager and instruct him to meet me at Mother’s courtyard immediately.”

Mei Chen bowed slightly. “Right away, miss.” Without hesitation, she headed back down the corridor, her footsteps fading into the quiet.

Xiulan surveyed her modest quarters, her eyes taking in the neatly arranged belongings. Everything remained untouched; Mei Chen had maintained the space meticulously. A faint smile curved her lips. At least some things were reliable.

She lowered herself onto the bottom bunk, feeling the hard mattress beneath her. Just like a Cinderella story. Except there was no fairy godmother or prince waiting in the wings. She would have to handle matters herself.

With a determined sigh, she stood up. “No use sitting around,” she murmured. Time to keep things moving.

She headed toward her mother’s courtyard. The path wasn’t far—her mother’s walled space lay adjacent to the servants’ area in the eastern section of the manor. As she walked, she took her time, eyes keenly appraising the surroundings. Servants passed by, bowing respectfully. The gestures felt odd, unfamiliar.

Then it struck her: she was dressed appropriately for her position now. The fine garments lent her an air of authority she hadn’t realized she lacked. Before, she’d often worn attire that was less... fitting. Appearances held power.

The outfits borrowed from Sister Suyin had served well during the festival, but she would need her own wardrobe. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so reluctant to let Mei Chen spend the taels Father had granted.

Although acquiring new attire could be handled within the manor, it would be a more limited selection or more expensive than during a trip to the city.

Lost in thought, she arrived at her mother’s courtyard just as Mei Chen approached with the household manager beside her. The manager, a stern-looking man with graying hair, bowed deeply.

“The house manager greets the Lin family’s second daughter,” he said respectfully. “This servant was told you sent for me?”

Xiulan extended her hand toward the house manager. “The ledger, please. I need to review the manor’s accommodations.”

“The... ledger?” The manager’s brow furrowed. “May I ask why Miss Lin requires—”

“My current quarters are unsuitable for my station. I intend to select an appropriate courtyard.” Xiulan pointed at the bound volume tucked under his arm.

“But who has authorized—”

“The ledger.” Xiulan’s outstretched hand remained steady.

The manager surrendered the book with visible reluctance. Xiulan opened it, revealing detailed maps of the manor grounds. Her finger traced down to her mother’s modest courtyard marked in neat script.

An empty space sat adjacent—perfect.

“This one.” Xiulan tapped the vacant courtyard. “It’s conveniently located next to Concubine Lian’s residence.”

Blood drained from the manager’s face, the sternness instantly replaced with nervous energy. “But... but... uh... lady, there are others—”

“Is there a problem?” Xiulan arched an eyebrow. “The records show it’s vacant.”

“Miss Lin, please, if you’d consider—”

Xiulan turned away, striding toward the courtyard in question. It wasn’t that far. The manager’s footsteps hurried behind her.

“Miss Lin! Miss Lin, please wait!”

The courtyard gate revealed the source of his distress. Servants bustled about the supposedly vacant space, carrying fresh linens and tea services. Decorated screens lined the walkways, and incense smoke curled from braziers.

Xiulan pivoted toward the manager. “Explain. Who occupies this unregistered residence?”

The manager wrung his hands. “Young Master Lin Jin’s... mistress currently resides here.”

Xiulan studied the nervous manager. “Why isn’t this residence officially registered? Did Elder Brother Jin submit a formal request to Father?”

“I... that is...” The manager dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief.

“So my brother installed his mistress in quarters fit for a proper wife while relegating me to servant’s quarters?” Xiulan’s words cut through the morning air.

Sweat trickled down the manager’s temples as he mopped his brow. “There must be some mistake in the records, Miss Lin.”

Of course it’s a mistake. So many convenient mistakes piling up that incompetence seems too charitable an explanation.

“Clear out this courtyard by nightfall and prepare it for my residence.” Xiulan squared her shoulders.

“Miss Lin!” The manager stumbled over his words. “I cannot—they won’t—you must speak with Young Master Jin or Lord Lin directly!”

Hah—dealing with this man wasn’t getting her anywhere.

Xiulan strode past him through the courtyard gates. They followed the neat path flanked by manicured gardens that led toward the courtyard’s center.

“Miss, what are you doing?” Mei Chen whispered behind her.

The manager’s footsteps pattered across the stones as he rushed after them. A group of servants noticed their approach, and an older woman stepped forward to block their path.

“Who dares enter this courtyard uninvited?” The woman planted her feet firmly.

“Fetch your mistress.” Xiulan lifted her chin. “Now.”

Whispers rippled through the gathered servants. The older woman hesitated before nodding to a young maid who scurried toward the courtyard’s main building.