“Honestly, she’s quite average—ask her about anything and she hasn’t got a clue,” Mrs. Ye said, pressing a hand to her temple with a headache. “Though I suppose her looks are passable. If the Second Young Master isn’t too picky, she might just barely be good enough for him.”
Hearing this, Mr. Ye paused for a moment.
Barely good enough?
That meant she didn’t pass muster, didn’t it?
“How exactly did Aunt Hong raise her?” Mr. Ye’s anger flared at the thought. They were both his daughters—how could there be such a vast difference between them?
He instructed Mrs. Ye to take the time over the coming days to teach Ye Shaohua some proper manners. Mrs. Ye thought of Ye Shaohua’s aloof demeanor and agreed without much enthusiasm.
The quarters Mrs. Ye arranged for Ye Shaohua were quite ordinary—nowhere near as lavish as Ye Junwan’s courtyard, which was filled with precious ornaments. In truth, now that Ye Junjin was married, her old quarters could have been used as well. But Mrs. Ye figured that Ye Junjin and her son-in-law, the bank manager, would eventually come back to stay, so she never even considered giving that space to Ye Shaohua.
Originally, she had planned to prepare a separate courtyard once Ye Shaohua arrived. But now that she’d met the girl, that inclination faded. This daughter was far too cold—she wouldn’t even utter a simple “Mother.” Unlike Ye Junwan, who was always sweet-tongued and charming. So Mrs. Ye simply couldn’t be bothered to put much effort into Ye Shaohua.
Over on the other side, the Ye household servants were all abuzz with gossip about Ye Shaohua.
They were shrewd enough to tell that Ye Shaohua was not favored by either Madam Ye or the Master.
“So this is the Second Young Miss? She came back wearing a schoolgirl uniform—does she not have any other clothes?”
“Maybe it’s because she’s been in Jinling and doesn’t have any Western dresses. You know, when I helped carry her luggage, she barely had any clothes—but she brought an entire crate of books. Hilarious, isn’t it?”
“The Fourth Young Miss studied Western learning; she once said something about it—she called the kind of studying the Second Young Miss does… ‘studying dead books’!”
This was the Republic of China now, and the Ye family’s rules weren’t as strict as before. There weren’t as many servants in each courtyard either, though there were quite a few guards and sentries.
Not long after Ye Shaohua’s return, Ye Junwan sent over a few Western-style dresses.
Aunt Hong had never seen such garments before.
She took the dresses, a bit stunned. “What kind of clothes are these? Can they even be worn?”
When she came across a dress that bared the arms, she quickly set it down. “Is this one torn?”
Seeing Aunt Hong’s provincial reaction, Ye Junwan’s maid lowered her gaze, a flicker of contempt passing through her eyes. She silently scoffed at Aunt Hong’s lack of worldly exposure—these were the most fashionable Western dresses in Shanghai right now, and the woman was asking if they were damaged?
“Aunt Hong, these dresses aren’t damaged at all,” said Qingwu, Ye Junwan’s maid, casting a dismissive glance at Aunt Hong. “You haven’t seen these in Jinling—they’re all Western dresses. Our young lady happens to know people at the foreign trading firm; otherwise, you wouldn’t even be able to get your hands on these. Torn? Please. All the socialites in Shanghai wear clothes like these.”
Hearing the maid’s words, Aunt Hong realized she’d shown her ignorance. Her face flushed slightly, and she gave an awkward smile.
Ye Junwan’s maid, who had been indoctrinated with talk of equality and socialist ideals, rolled her eyes at Aunt Hong. She didn’t feel much respect for this newly returned Second Young Miss either.
Sensing the maid’s dismissive attitude toward her, Aunt Hong’s expression stiffened.
“Take them back. I won’t wear such clothes,” Ye Shaohua said, emerging from inside with a book in hand, her face expressionless. She placed the dresses back into the smug-looking Qingwu’s arms, then shut the door with a loud bang.
Just as Aunt Hong was about to say something, Ye Shaohua raised a finger to her lips, signaling her to keep quiet. These days, Ye Shaohua was becoming harder and harder for Aunt Hong to read, so she could only go along with her wishes.
“Junwan, I heard your second sister is back?” asked Li Qiuhong, one of Shanghai’s Four Great Socialites.
Ye Junwan replied with little enthusiasm, “Yeah, she is.”
“I also heard that your second sister grew up in Jinling—is that true?”
“Yes. She came back wearing a schoolgirl uniform. I sent her the newest Western dresses, and she actually asked if they were damaged,” Ye Junwan said with a shake of her head. “Honestly, I’m done with that kind of feudal-minded woman.”
“I see,” Li Qiuhong sighed. “Still, your second sister is awfully lucky.”
Even with such shortcomings, she was still going to marry into the Tang family.
That’s right—Ye Junwan might scoff at the Tang family’s Second Young Master, but there were plenty of people in Shanghai who coveted him. He may not be as impressive as the eldest Tang son, but he was still a Tang, and the family only had two sons. No matter how you looked at it, the Second Young Master Tang was never going to end up in a bad place.
And so, when word spread that the Ye family’s rather unremarkable second daughter was to marry the Second Young Master Tang, a bevy of socialites couldn’t help but weigh in on Ye Shaohua.
“She never even attended a Western-style school—I spent several years at one.”
“The Tang family is a warlord dynasty, after all. Commander Tang has been vigorously introducing Western learning to develop Shanghai. How could someone like her possibly be worthy of a Tang?”
“…”
Such rumors rippled through Shanghai.
But when Mr. Ye caught wind of them, the person he was angry at wasn’t the source of the rumors—it was Ye Shaohua, for bringing shame to his name.
“Where is she?” Mr. Ye demanded as soon as he got home, heading straight for Ye Shaohua’s quarters.
But she was nowhere to be found. Furious, he turned to Aunt Hong.
Aunt Hong cowered and bowed her head. “She went out to see her teacher…”
“What teacher?” Hearing that, Mr. Ye grew even angrier.
He had arranged for her to attend a good Western-style school, but she refused to go. Instead, she clung to the books she’d brought from Jinling and went off every day to see some teacher. Having been educated by Ye Junwan about the wonders of foreign technology, he had little regard for this “feudal” teacher of hers. “Can’t she just learn properly from Junwan? They’re sisters—how can the gap between them be this wide? What exactly have you been teaching her?”
