"Miss, are you awake?" Qin-er's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I sat up, pressing a palm to my forehead to check my temperature. The fever was gone.
"Ready my bath," I commanded. While the steam began to fill the room, I ran my fingers through my hair. It was long, dark and silk-soft. Once dressed, I chose a simple cream-colored robe with wide sleeves and a collar of white fur. Qin-er styled my hair into neat twin buns. I looked like a delicate, porcelain doll. It was the perfect disguise for a visit to Grandmother's courtyard.
It was time to see the scheming old woman in the flesh.
When I arrived at the main hall, the air was already thick with the scent of sandalwood and tension. My 'good sister' Ruo-Lan was already there, perched like a saint beside Grandmother. My three cousins from the second branch —the arrogant Wang-Yao, young Yan-Ning, and the concubine daughter Ling-He were gathered around like a pack of colorful birds.
"This grandchild pays her respects to Grandmother" I said, dropping into a perfect, deep bow. My movements were slow and precise, I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of a misplaced finger. "May Grandmother live a thousand years and be showered in abundant blessings. "
"So you still remember you have a grandmother? Hmph! " The old woman didn't even look up. It was barely seven and in the morning, and her spite was already in full bloom.
"This granddaughter has been unfilial," I replied, my voice dropping with honeyed contrition. I sank to my knees before she could respond. "The sickness tethered me to my bed, making it difficult to even stand. Please Grandmother, punish me."
I felt her cold gaze on the back of my neck. In this era, making a child kneel was a common power play. I gritted my teeth and kept my head bowed. Let her enjoy the show for now. Face is everything.
"Rise,"she finally snapped, rolling her eyes. I thanked her and took my seat. From the corner of my eye, I caught Ruo-Lan wearing a tiny, triumphant smirk.
"Grandmother, please don't be upset with eldest sister." Run-Lan said, her voice a flute of fake sweetness. "It must have been so difficult for sister to come here while still so fragile. I remember when I had that terrible cough last month, I forced myself to come because I simply couldn't bear to miss Grandmother's company. Of course, I felt much better once Grandmother let me share her favorite tea."
I suppressed the urge to gag. She wasn't just praising herself, she was telling Grandmother that her loyalty was stronger than mine even when she was sick.
"Sister Ruo-Lan is truly the most filial among us" my cousin Wang-Yao added sheepishly, eager to please the favorite.
"Indeed" Grandmother grumbled, shooting me a pointed look. "Some girls understand their duty even when ill, while others use a little fever as an excuse to be lazy."
I remained silent, sipping my tea. I let the warmth spread through me. An hour passed in a blur of Grandmother's praises for Ruo-Lan and subtle stabs at my reputation. My ears were practically burning by the time we were dismissed.
As we stepped into the courtyard, Wang-Yao blocked my path. "First sister, you should hurry back to your room. Don't spread those…things…everywhere. We wouldn't want to become as distinguished looking as you."
I smiled thinly. "Sister must be joking. Acnes are born of the body's internal heat, not a contagious plague. I am merely growing, it is a sign of vitality."
"Vitality? It looks bacteria," Wang-Yao sneered, pointing at a small white blemish. "Disgusting"
"Third sister, hush." Run-Lan interrupted, stepping in with her signature peacemaker mask. "I'm sure eldest sister doesn't want to look this way. It will surely go away…eventually." The double meaning was clear: You're ugly now, and you'll probably stay that way.
"Whatever. We're leaving." Wang-Yao huffed. As they turned to go, the timid Ling-He gave me a small, apologetic smile before scurrying after them.
"I will also go ahead. Take care on the path, first sister." Run-Lan called out with with a sugary grin. "It's slippery. It wouldn't be good if you fell and damaged your face even further."
I watched them walk away. Their insults were nothing compared to the 21st century internet. Acne heals, a rotting soul is much harder to fix. Instead of heading to my room, I went straight to my mother's quarter. Since I hadn't yet had my Hairpin Ceremony —the official rite of passage to womanhood, I didn't have my own courtyard yet.
I found my mother by the window, her needle flying through a piece of silk.
"Greetings, Mother. You're working so early today"
"Xiao-Xiao! Come, accompany me for breakfast." She said, her face lighting up. She led me to a table laid with several dishes, mostly steamed vegetables. "I am embroidering a new pair of shoes for your father."
I sat down and took a large bite of a green vegetable. My eyes nearly watered. It was incredibly bitter. I tried another dish, hoping for relief, but it was so bland it tasted like wet paper.
Then it me. I was an archeologist, studying history. I should have known. The Silk Road hadn't been established yet. Trade was limited. There was no black pepper from India, no garlic or onion from the west, no chili from Americas. Their noble cooking style was strictly
Iimited to steaming and boiling, with almost no spices to mask the flavor.
I stared at the bowl of greyish, boiled greens. I had survived transmigration, a murderous sister, a hateful grandmother. But looking at the flavorless mush in front of me, I realized my biggest challenge wasn't going to be the court politics.
It was going to be the food!