Chapter 66: A Unique Birthday Gift

Madam Xing was just over thirty this year, yet in terms of seniority, she was already of grandmotherly rank. Still, she maintained herself remarkably well, having given birth to her third son only last year. Now, with two sons and a daughter under her knee, she had considerably extended the Zhen family line, and her entire bearing was one of unmistakable pride.

The custom of celebrating birthdays began in the Southern Dynasties, reaching its height after the Tang era, with the general practice of starting formal celebrations at the age of fifty. Among the common folk, particular importance was attached to birthdays that fell on a decade, calling them "longevity birthdays."

Yet, nothing in life is absolute—some longevity banquets were elaborate, others modest, depending on one’s means and social standing. Typically, invitations would be sent out to relatives and friends, and presents would include longevity peaches, longevity noodles, couplets, and banners. The most splendid affairs required the setting up of a special longevity hall, adorned with candles and festive decorations. The celebrant, known as the "Star of Longevity," would receive the congratulations and formal bows of kin and younger generations in the central hall. After the presentation of gifts, all would sit down to drink wine and eat longevity noodles together. Among the wealthy, it was common to summon a troupe to perform plays for the guests.

Since the arrival of summer, Madam Xing had moved to the garden’s cool pavilion. Today, in that very pavilion, longevity banners, candles, peaches, and noodles had long been arranged, the whole scene fairly exuding a sense of ostentation.

The female guests coming to offer their birthday felicitations would mostly arrive around midday, while those appearing early in the morning were invariably the younger members and juniors of the Zhen household. By the time Zhen Qian appeared in the inner court, a number of juniors had already arrived and were clustered around Madam Xing, engaged in lively conversation.

As Zhen Qian entered the doorway with his two young attendants, he immediately drew the attention of those present. A swift glance told him that he recognized most of those gathered—not because he recalled them distinctly, but because, since his memory loss, the two girls and Wang You had carefully pointed out the various relatives to him, enabling him to remember a fair number of faces.

Even so, there were many unfamiliar faces—likely those who rarely visited the Zhen residence, or younger kin studying at the country academy, or perhaps relatives who had come specifically for Madam Xing’s birthday. There was, in fact, quite a crowd of such seldom-seen guests.

Zhen Qian deliberately slowed his steps. Behind him, Xiao Zhu whispered in his ear, “The lady seated first on the right among the women is the eldest legitimate daughter of the main branch, Fenniang. She married into a local official’s family ten years ago…”

“The fourth seat on the women’s side belongs to the eleventh daughter of the second branch. She married seven years ago, but her husband died of illness after just three years. The year before last, she remarried into a family in Gaoyi, Zhaozhou, and it was said that Madam Xing herself arranged the match…”

For all those who had never visited the Zhen residence before, or seldom came by, Xiao Zhu quietly recited their names and backgrounds. How many Zhen Qian could remember was now up to his own ability.

As the guests continued their chatter, a shadow suddenly blocked the light at the doorway, drawing all eyes in that direction. When Madam Xing saw who had come, her expression shifted through a range of emotions. Today, she wore an exquisitely embroidered gown, pale red and adorned with birds and blossoms. Amidst her stately grace, a striking aura of wealth radiated from her. The wide skirt swept the floor behind her, and within that grandeur was a touch of elegance.

Looking closer at her face, it was long and finely shaped, with a delicate nose, soft and full lips, eyelashes as fine as feathers arching gently upwards, and willow-leaf brows drawn together in a gentle curve. Her eyelids slowly lifted as she gazed at Zhen Qian, who had just entered, the hint of a smile on her lips, her tone unreadable, neither joyful nor displeased, as tranquil as an ancient well: “Eldest son, you’ve come.”

At these words, those who knew or had heard of Zhen Qian exchanged knowing glances, while those meeting him for the first time quickly gleaned his identity from Madam Xing's address.

Zhen Qian appeared entirely unbothered, nodding politely to those around him, then walked straight to Madam Xing. Dropping to both knees, he performed a flawless formal bow, presenting a gift box with both hands as he spoke: “Your son comes to wish you a happy birthday, Mother. May you enjoy a long life and unending familial joy. This is but a small token of my respect—a gift to help you keep cool and refreshed through the summer.”

Madam Xing’s brow arched slightly, betraying neither approval nor censure at his congratulatory words. Her gaze, however, fell upon the box, which a waiting maid quickly received and presented to her. Upon opening it, Madam Xing’s mouth twitched involuntarily, her tone cool and indifferent: “Eldest son, what is this?”

“This is a feather fan I made myself for you, Mother. Though it is light, it represents my filial devotion. I spent three sleepless nights selecting a dozen bright, perfectly matched feathers and then another whole day carefully crafting it. There is only one such fan in the world, making it worthy as a birthday gift for my mother.”

Madam Xing had intended to seize this opportunity to make things difficult for Zhen Qian. She had already conspired with Steward Xing to criticize whatever gift he brought—if it was modest, she would accuse him of disrespect and frivolity; if it was lavish, she would scold him for extravagance and waste. Even if the gift itself was above reproach, she was prepared to find fault, using innuendo before the assembled juniors to cause Zhen Qian public embarrassment and invite snide remarks.

But now, she found herself at a loss for words. He had already explained the care and effort he put into the gift—sleepless nights, careful selection, meticulous crafting—declaring it unique in all the world. The words she had prepared died on her lips, leaving her momentarily speechless.

Steward Xing, standing nearby, grew anxious. Such a perfect opportunity might not come again, but he could not openly interject before the guests. Quietly, he whispered in Madam Xing’s ear, “What a joke! This thing is worth just a few coins, yet he calls it one of a kind. He really dares to lie through his teeth.”

Madam Xing immediately recovered her composure, her expression turning cold. “Eldest son, it’s my birthday today. If you had brought no gift, I would have let it pass. But to fob me off with this—do you truly hold no regard for me as your mother?”

Though everyone present knew Madam Xing was Zhen Qian’s stepmother, propriety demanded a certain decorum, especially on such an occasion. Even a box of longevity noodles would suffice; no one would openly show displeasure. So when Madam Xing’s face darkened, those who had only heard of the discord between her and the eldest son were surprised to see such open humiliation on her birthday, in front of so many witnesses.

“There’ll be a spectacle today,” someone whispered.

Now, all eyes turned to Zhen Qian, trying to guess how he would respond—would he tear away the last pretense, endure in silence, or humbly plead for forgiveness? Expectation hung in the air.

Zhen Qian inwardly sneered—so, it had come to this. He had expected Madam Xing to seize the chance to make things difficult. When she began her rebuke, he slowly rose from his knees, his gaze lingering briefly on Steward Xing. Then, bowing again to Madam Xing, he spoke loudly enough for the whole room to hear: “Mother, this truly is a one-of-a-kind gift. Since someone claims otherwise, let him say where such an item can be found, how it is used, or how it is made. If he cannot, then he is sowing discord between mother and son, and such a person has no place in the Zhen household!”