Chapter Fifteen: The Turmoil Over the Flower Hairpin

Song Ci looked down at the small wicker sedan chair by her feet, feeling somewhat miserable. Was she really so frail that she needed to be carried everywhere?

“Take that away. I want to walk,” Song Ci instructed, pointing at the sedan.

Red Pomelo glanced at Madam Gong, who stepped forward and said, “Madam Dowager, if you won’t sit, then let them follow behind with the chair. If you tire, you can rest in it.”

Song Ci could only nod at her kindly suggestion. Resting her hands on the arms of the two senior maids, she slowly walked out of the courtyard.

The Prime Minister’s residence had once belonged to a favored princess of the previous dynasty. Her palace was built with extravagant elegance; the gardens had been designed by the famed Master Willow Liu, and it was said the rare stones in the lake had been transported all the way from the Tianshan Mountains.

How had Song Zhiyuan acquired such a mansion? It was during his tenure as Minister of Personnel, after he had amassed extraordinary achievements and shared some tribulations with the current Empress Dowager and Emperor. The Emperor had rewarded him with this estate.

Some well-informed outsiders scoffed: nonsense, the real reason was that the Song family had donated two hundred thousand bushels of grain during a drought that year.

But the Emperor and the Song family would never admit to that.

Song Ci wandered leisurely through the residence, overwhelmed by the beauty before her eyes.

“This is what a true noble residence of ancient times should look like. These gardens are simply exquisite. Compared to this, those so-called manors and back gardens I saw in the capital are nothing but dust.”

Song Ci clicked her tongue in admiration.

Red Pomelo and the other senior maid, Red Peach, exchanged glances. The latter ventured to ask, “Madam Dowager, what manors are you talking about, and where are they?”

They had never heard of such places.

Song Ci gazed off into the distance. “In a faraway land,” she replied.

She wondered if she would ever have the chance to return to that place—her homeland.

Her spirits suddenly dimmed.

The people around her sensed the change and grew uneasy. Red Peach’s eyes darted quickly. With a bright smile, she pointed to a peony bush. “Madam Dowager, look at this Pink Erqiao—it’s blooming so beautifully. Why not let me cut a blossom for you to wear?”

Song Ci was indeed distracted by this suggestion. She looked over and saw two large pink peonies, each as big as a palm, blooming brilliantly, their petals beaded with dew, making them appear even more delicate.

Having acted in several historical dramas, Song Ci knew the ancients loved to wear flowers in their hair. But if she wore such a blossom herself, wouldn’t she look like a foolish old woman?

The thought made Song Ci laugh out loud.

She reached out and plucked the Pink Erqiao, played with it for a moment, then smelled its fragrance. Instead of wearing it herself, she tucked it into Red Peach’s hair. “Such delicate flowers suit young girls like you. As for me, I’m old now.”

Red Peach was both surprised and delighted, kneeling to thank her properly. “Thank you for your favor, Madam Dowager.”

Red Pomelo, grinning, chimed in with a playful tone, “Madam Dowager, I’d like one too.”

“Of course, I’ll pick one for you as well,” Song Ci replied, reaching out again.

“Stop right there! That Erqiao was brought back by the Old Master just yesterday—it cost him a thousand taels!” A shrill voice rang out from the stone bridge, and a woman in a green dress rushed toward Song Ci.

Startled, everyone tensed. Red Pomelo and Red Peach instinctively stepped in front of Song Ci to shield her.

“How dare you, you reckless maid! How dare you rush at the Madam Dowager—seize her!” Madam Gong barked sharply.

Several serving women immediately stepped forward and grabbed the girl, who had already reached Red Pomelo and the others. They twisted her arms behind her back and kicked the back of her knees, forcing her to kneel on the ground.