The commotion in the main hall startled the old lady awake from her dream. She slowly sat up, turned her head, and saw a bowl of water placed by her pillow.

Sleeping on the heated kang dried her throat, and being old, her mouth was bitter, so she turned over, picked up the bowl, and drank it all in one go.

The water was sweet. There was a bowl like this every morning, and she’d grown used to enjoying it.

After putting on her clothes and shuffling into her shoes, she left the east room. Qiqian’er, like her, didn’t light the stove in the mornings — dry buns and half a bowl of water made do for a meal.

Now that they had grain, this was still how they lived, though it was quite a good life now, with fine-grain buns to eat.

The old lady gnawed on her bun, leaning against the doorframe watching Qiqian’er. She saw her holding a stick picked up from outside, stirring something in the pot. Then she looked down — ah! She couldn’t bear to look. What kind of work was this, this black, sticky stuff? Though it did smell of grain.

The old lady’s heart itched immediately, and she couldn’t hold back from asking Qiqian’er, “What are you doing so early in the morning? Are you cooking porridge?”

Qiqian’er stopped the wooden stick in her hand, her eyes bright as she looked at the old lady and said, “Nai, I think your judgment is really good!”

Then she went right back to stirring vigorously in the pot.

Was this a compliment? Had she gone mad?

Though her own judgment had always been good, good at what exactly? Say something specific, let me feel good about it too!

The words left her thoroughly confused.

The old lady reached out, skimmed a bit from the pot, and licked it: “Well, of course! Go ask around our old hometown, in all the villages around, who wouldn’t praise how capable I am! Hm? Elm bark flour? What are you making? Not even mixing in some bean flour — this isn’t quite flour, isn’t quite porridge. Why are you making this kind of paste? Isn’t this wasting grain? I’m telling you, from ancient times to now, no one’s ever done work like this. Back home, if your mother-in-law had done this, I’d have hit her with a spatula… So what, what exactly are you making?”

Seeing Qiqian’er stop her hands, the old lady glanced sideways at her with a look that was half a smile, then gave an awkward laugh and snapped her fingers: “Look how fierce you’re being! Come on, would it kill you to say a bit more? Anyone doing work has to learn as a child, can’t I even say that? Look at you, staring at me like that — fine, Nai won’t teach you then, yo yo yo, look at you sulking! Still glaring at me!

Hey! Nai isn’t from around here, girl, what are we eating this morning? Is this… some local specialty? Well, looks like it, hah, and smells good too? Then let me have a bowl and try it.”

Qiqian’er burst out laughing: “What local specialty? A local specialty would be big fish and big meat — look at our family, this poor, and we’re eating meat? This isn’t for you to eat! I’m just making some sticky paste — that courtyard at the mouth of the street, we can claim it! Let’s go put up a marker!”

The old lady could hardly believe such good fortune existed and asked happily, “Really?”

Qiqian’er nodded, delighted: “Yes, we qualify! We’re rank six, you’re rank six too, I’m rank seven. I don’t believe it — with two ladies of rank guarding the house, who would dare come snatch it? That’ll scare them to death!”

The more Qiqian’er talked, the happier she got. Who doesn’t love a big house? And that spot at the mouth of the alley was so good, such a proper official residence. Later, An’er and his young wife could live in the front courtyard, and she and the old lady would live in the back courtyard…

She handed the bowl of paste to the old lady, then reached over and grabbed the brush and ink she’d prepared on the table. Grandmother and granddaughter were about to head out together, and along the way the old lady chattered happily: “It’s true, your judgment really is good, this house is quite nice too, I feel reluctant to leave it now. You know, back in our old hometown, we lived in a half-brick house with bamboo-frame rammed earth walls — we could give that up without a second thought. But this house, we’ve already fixed it up so nicely, all our things are here, who’s going to help move them…”

Qiqian’er turned her head back, speaking with total confidence: “What are you talking about! We’ll keep that place too, and take this one as well! This one can be the firewood shed for the Adjutant Lord’s household!”

The old lady was timid: “Can we really do that?”

Qiqian’er snorted — why couldn’t they? No matter who came, rank five, rank six, small potatoes — they weren’t scraping by anymore! Their own family had “beans” to spare now, so what if they let a few bean sprouts grow long?

Grandmother and granddaughter hurried excitedly to the gate. They’d just stepped one foot through when they suddenly panicked, and clutching the bowl and holding the brush and ink, they crept back home in a rush of quick, careful steps.

Once inside, the two of them threw themselves into a frenzy of activity.

The firewood shed was locked! The kitchen was locked! The west room where things were stored was locked! Everything was locked! Where there was no lock, they tied it shut with coarse rope, knotted twice for good measure!

The buns on the table were put away, the new quilt and mattress on the kang were stuffed into the kang cabinet, and the washed old bedding was laid out instead… After a chaotic flurry of activity, the old lady finally kicked off her shoes, caught her breath, climbed onto the kang, and picked up her sewing basket. Qiqian’er sat on the floor and started pretending to spin thread.

The two of them, still catching their breath, had just arranged themselves to look like they were doing housework when they heard someone outside the courtyard call out cheerfully, “Is Elder Sister home? It’s your sister from the Tao family…”

The person, observing proper etiquette, announced herself at the gate — and then the window of the house was suddenly yanked open.

Madam Gao, who claimed to be from a wealthy family in the prefectural city, pulled open the window and stuck her head halfway in. She looked around first, then broke into a wide grin and shouted, “Oh my! You’re both here! You’re both here! Why are you all being so fussy? Standing at the gate for what? Come in quick! Look at this, both of you here, doing chores!”

In the past, if someone’s daughter-in-law had barged in like this without announcing herself, at most it would’ve caused an argument, or someone would’ve cursed her out, or maybe even come to blows. But things were different now — those with any sense knew not to follow her example, and there was a faint air of wariness around her too.

“Is the old lady home?”

“I’m from the Guo-Yang family.”

“The Yu-Wan family.”

“The Qian-Lü family, and Old Madam Tao came too.”

Everyone stood at the gate without coming in. Madam Gao grew awkward, seeing the two inside not lifting their heads, not looking at her, not greeting her — she pursed her lips.

She shut the window with a bang, muttering as she walked to the gate, and called out loudly, “Madam Gui! It’s me, Madam Gao! Oh come on, we’ve known each other for years, playing this game is pointless! Really…” She grumbled on, clearly displeased.

Qiqian’er heard this, pursed her lips, and pointed outside toward the old lady. The old lady snorted back at her — who knew when this grandmother and granddaughter had developed their own sign language.

In any case, since the others were following proper etiquette and had come politely, Qiqian’er walked to the courtyard gate, smiling warmly, and greeted them courteously.

She first bowed to the elders, and the others, knowing that from now on the people in this household were different, followed Old Madam Tao’s lead and returned the courtesy.

Old Madam Tao was senior in generation but a commoner. Her sons and grandsons were also in the military, though exactly what positions they held, her family had no one like Chen Sìniú who spread news everywhere.

A titled lady was a titled lady — this household now had a threshold to cross, and they needed to pay a proper, formal visit.

Old Madam Tao carried herself with poise, was worldly and shrewd, yet avoided meddling in others’ affairs. Among this crowd of women she was something of a hidden leader, far superior to the sharp-tongued, harsh Chen Wu Shi.

Coming to visit today, she led the others in bowing to Qiqian’er, showing not the slightest hint of reluctance on the surface.

Qiqian’er, well aware of this woman’s formidable nature, was careful not to show her own edge in front of her.

She courteously led everyone inside. When Old Madam Tao saw the old lady, she immediately bowed, her mouth especially sweet as she said, “Congratulations to you, Elder Sister — what tremendous good fortune! It was already late yesterday, and there’s no propriety in offering congratulations in the dead of night, so this morning we gathered everyone and came together, all at once.”

The old lady, who had been “educated” late into the previous night, immediately wanted to jump up and show off, but hearing Qiqian’er coughing at the door, she held back her inner restlessness and said with great composure, “Oh, what good fortune, it’s nothing — it’s all thanks to Qian’er’s husband, my Choutou, making something of himself. This is what earned me this honor. Come, sit, sit! Qian’er!”

The old lady then called out toward the door, “Hurry and boil water for Old Madam Tao and the aunties.”

Old Madam Tao smiled and sat down on the edge of her seat, saying, “No need to stand on ceremony with us. No rush, we’re not thirsty.” Then she turned to Madam Yu-Wan behind her: “Quick, go bring that little imp in from outside.”

Madam Yu-Wan smiled, nodded, and went out. Before long she came back carrying Xique, who wore a little floral jacket, her hair done up in two tufts tied with red string, clutching a cloth-wrapped bundle in her arms and refusing to let go.

Xique was a pretty child, and the moment she came through the door she called out “Nainai,” showing a few small rice-grain teeth, adorable and endearing.

Qiqian’er watched from behind the door, and also saw Qiao Shi outside, not daring to come in.

Qiao Shi too was made of tough stuff, forged like iron through a hundred temperings. Yesterday she’d cried over the wrong thing entirely — crying over the honor earned in Chen Dasheng’s name, which had nothing to do with the fourth branch of the family.

She wasn’t even embarrassed about it.

Anyone else would’ve needed ten or fifteen days before daring to show their face in public again, but not her — she was a strong one. A single night had passed, and upon waking she’d already schemed up a new plan, rearranged her battle formation, and here she was again.

But things weren’t like before anymore. She really did stand at the gate, not daring to step into the courtyard.

Ever since learning that a wife could be divorced on her son’s behalf, the old lady had openly declared, more than once, in front of others: this was her home, her territory, and if Qiao Shi dared take one step into it, that would be the height of unfilial behavior.

Qiao Shi had a guilty conscience, and so she truly didn’t dare take that step.

Xique reached out toward her grandmother and immediately dropped the bundle in her arms.

The old lady, seeing Xique, was delighted too — no matter how unworthy the mother, the child was still her own blood grandchild.

She half sat up, reached out to take Xique, affectionately stroking her little hair tufts, kissing the child’s forehead: “Oh my, who is this? Why have you come?”

The old lady was stingy with everyone else, but with her granddaughter here, one hand holding the child, her other hand — disobeying her own better judgment — reached into the kang cabinet and fished out a plate of palace-made pastries.

By the time the pastries were on the table, she’d already begun to regret it, but it was too late.

Old Madam Tao said with a smile, “Oh my, blood ties from birth just can’t be severed, no matter what! Our Xique missed her dear Anai! We’ve brought her, and her mother made new clothes for you as an apology. Please be generous, Elder Sister, and for our Xique’s sake, don’t hold it against us…”

The dry firewood crackled in the stove. Qiqian’er carried out a stack of large bowls, set them out one by one, and used a gourd ladle to add hot water to each.

Zhou Shi, unable to find an audience on the east room’s kang, came out to chat idly with Qiqian’er.

Seeing Qiqian’er was only boiling plain water, she made conversation just to needle her: “Oh my, Madam Gui, is this what you’re serving guests with? Your family got so many nice things yesterday, and you can’t even bear to bring some out to show us?”

Having lived in the same run-down alley with her for over ten years in her past life, Qiqian’er knew both her good side and her bad side, so she asked bluntly: “Auntie, that fine stuff you got from the prefectural city — you talk about it every day. Why don’t you bring some out and let me see it?”

Everyone knew Zhou Shi liked to boast, but no one had ever actually asked her to prove it.

Zhou Shi’s face flushed at this, and she snorted: “My fine things — why would I show them to you?”

Qiqian’er raised an eyebrow: “Oh? So you admit they’re my family’s fine things?”

With that, she picked up the tray, deftly loaded the bowls of water onto it, and carried it into the east room.

Behind her, Zhou Shi muttered, “Beady little eyes, sly little eyes, black heart, black guts, rough skin, crow face!”

On the kang in the east room, Xique’s mouth was stuffed full, and she still clutched a piece of pastry in her hand, refusing to let go.

She’d never had anything like pastries before, and the old lady, feeling for her, urged, “Oh! It’s all yours! All yours! Eat slowly now…”

She then pulled the plate of pastries on the low table over in front of her granddaughter, one hand still protectively guarding it.

The others had entertained thoughts of trying some too, but seeing this, they felt too embarrassed.

Old Madam Tao thanked Qiqian’er, picked up the coarse porcelain bowl and took a sip of water, then set it down, her tone turning a bit disappointed: “So Elder Sister really won’t budge one bit?”

The old lady’s expression was flat as she stroked Xique’s head, saying steadily, “No. She and I truly have no fate to be mother and daughter-in-law. And you — don’t accept her pleading on my behalf anymore, no one’s intervention will work! Not even the Emperor himself! No one needs to be the vanguard for this. Old sister, there are things underneath this you don’t know about. Just because I don’t mention them to you doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

Old Madam Tao sighed: “Yes, how would I know the inner workings of your family. You know me — I just like to burn incense and chant sutras, I don’t like going out much. When she came begging to me, it reminded me of the past, that night she went into labor with Xique, we were on the road, there wasn’t even hot water, she lost half a basin of blood, and she held your hand the whole time, calling out ‘Mother.’ When Xique was finally born, the two of you held each other and cried like that — I’ll never forget it as long as I live…”

Hearing this, the old lady smiled: “I haven’t forgotten either. That’s a debt Sìniú owes her. Let Sìniú repay it…”

Qiqian’er took the pastry box from the cabinet, pulled out seven or eight sheets of rice paper, wrapped five pastries in each sheet, and sat wrapping them at the corner of the kang.

Quick-handed, quiet Madam Qian-Lü came over to help, and asked her in a low voice, unexpectedly, “They say your Master Chen is coming home?”

Qiqian’er froze at this, looked up at this woman who in her past life had been an honest, dull sort, and thought — so she has her lively, bold moments too.

Madam Qian-Lü, thinking she’d said something wrong, went pale with embarrassment.

Qiqian’er smiled and said softly, “I don’t know either, but they say he’s coming back.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful then, you’ve finally made it through…”

“Mm…”

The women left one by one, smiling, each with a bundle of pastries tucked in her arms.

Xique had gone quite a distance before realizing she was getting farther and farther from her beloved sweet cakes and her grandmother, and burst into loud wails, her cries fading into the distance.

Qiqian’er saw the guests out, and when she came back into the room, she found the old lady with one hand pressed to her chest, the other braced on the low table, head bowed, trembling.

She hurried over to support her: “Why put yourself through this? If you really can’t bear to let her go, give her a way down. Why do this to yourself?”

But the old lady raised her head with a look of pure resentment, glaring at her, gritting her teeth: “Don’t mention her! I’m only talking about you! Tell me — how many pieces of my pastries did you give away? Huh?!”

Qiqian’er let go and sat back, thinking: I knew it, I knew it. From now on, if I ever feel sorry for this old crone again, I’m a dog.

She clapped her hands, walked to the cabinet, took out her unfinished elm-bark paste, grabbed the brush and ink, and walked out.

Seeing her leave, the old lady panicked and hurried off the kang after her: “Hey, I just said a few words to you? A few words? And you’re going to hold a grudge against me? Huh? Silly girl, you big fool, I’m rank six now, I’m rank six, and you dare ignore me? Just you wait, when my Choutou comes home, he’ll chop off your head!!!”

Since yesterday, she’d already “chopped off” Qiqian’er’s head more times than she could count.

Along the flagstone-paved alley where three carts could pass abreast, Qiqian’er and the old lady crept along like thieves, glancing left and right, darting from side to side. With more options now, the two of them wanted to look at all the houses they’d never dared dream of before.

By the old lady’s reckoning, her four grandsons should all live in the same alley, so the family would stay close.

But Qiqian’er quietly resisted this, twisting the plan sideways — she wasn’t crazy enough to invite three sisters-in-law older than herself to come make her life difficult.

She’d already decided: at the very back of Quanhou Village, there was a row of fine houses backing onto the hills, quite nice. Let’s send those three over there to cluster together!

Let them keep saying things they couldn’t do themselves — fine, so what if you don’t come back for three or five years at a time, and when you do come back it’s all lectures and finger-pointing, as if your husbands being high officials makes you so grand.

If you’re so capable, go take the old lady to live with you — in the end, wouldn’t it just fall back on caring for her yourselves anyway.

Well, it wasn’t quite a feud, just the usual friction between sisters-in-law of the same generation. Since none of them lived together, there wasn’t much affection to speak of anyway…

After scouting around everywhere, grandmother and granddaughter arrived at the mouth of the alley. Qiqian’er, sneaking about, checked that no one was around, then pulled a roll of rice paper from her robe and knelt on the ground, tearing off strips.

But she had no idea that on the roof of the house right next door, two people were lying and kneeling.

Su Baili bit into a piece of fruit, saying to her junior martial brother beside her, whose meridians she’d sealed, kneeling there: “Junior Brother, don’t you think — this old lady and this young wife, wandering around the village sneaking about every day — what do you think they’re up to?”

Master Cheng gritted his teeth and threatened: “Su Baili! People are coming! Untie me…”

Su Baili turned back, disdainful: “No!”

Master Cheng, furious beyond words, saw the group of people slowly entering the alley in the distance, and in his rage forced his qi through his meridians — face mattering more to him than his body — until finally he spat a mouthful of blood and rolled right off the roof.

He’d braced for a hard landing, but instead he fell straight into Su Baili’s arms.

Su Baili, her face full of tender concern, gazed at her junior martial brother’s blood-stained lips. Her heart clenched, but her expression turned deeply solemn as she said to Master Cheng: “Junior Brother! You’re hurt! Here! Don’t be afraid! Senior Sister will heal you!”

With that, she carried Master Cheng into the house…

Qiqian’er had no idea that her and the old lady’s sneaking about had already been thoroughly witnessed.

She finished brushing the paste, laid down the strips of rice paper, picked up the brush, and proudly wrote several large characters on the paper strip.

Great Liang Imperial Bodyguard Office, Long Blade Guard Office, Rank Six Adjutant Chen Dasheng’s Official—

“You? What are you writing?”

Someone suddenly spoke behind her. Her heart lurched violently, and Qiqian’er spun around in fright. When she saw who it was, her hand trembled and half a bowl of ink slipped from her grip.

Chen Choutou! Even turned to ash, I’d still recognize you.

Chen Dasheng had spotted his grandmother from far off, along with a slender little girl wearing a headscarf, the two of them sneaking about together, up to who knew what.

Hiding here, crouching there, peeking this way, peering that way… In any case, Chen Dasheng had never seen his grandmother behave like this before — she looked just like a child playing hide-and-seek.

He was thoroughly puzzled.

Meng Wanquan, who was leading the way, wanted to go call out to them, but Chen Dasheng stopped him.

He didn’t quite know why himself — he just found the two of them amusing to watch, and it eased something in his chest.

As if drawn by some unseen force, he crept closer, step by small step.

These past ten-odd days, Xiaohua’er had nagged in his ear countless times — Second Brother, that shrew of yours! Second Brother, that fierce wife of yours! Second Brother, that vixen of yours… So — had he married a person or a monster?

For this reason, his sworn brother Chang Lianfang had dragged him into Yanjing’s bathhouses. In twelve days in Yanjing, every other day he had to spend an hour soaking in the bathhouse.

Poor Chen Dasheng — he could survive a whole night ambushed in the freezing wilderness without a hitch, yet he’d fainted from the heat in the bathhouse twice in a row.

Four burly men held him down, scrubbing his skin and flesh up and down. After finally getting through that ordeal, he still had to soak in scented water.

Truly fragrant water — the kind that, stepping out on an autumn day, would draw in a few bees and moths after you.

To keep his second brother from being intimidated by that female demon, Chang Lianfang had worked like an ox, pushing the bodyguard corps’ workshop to rush-produce armor and formal wear for him, and had even haggled with the Emperor over warhorses. He was busy and thrilled with it, leaving his two elder brothers and their father stewing in jealousy.

Chen Dasheng and the others had come up as infantry, at most having ridden in a cart before. In these ten days, under Chang Lianfang’s intensive training, they’d gone from clutching a horse’s neck in terror to now riding at a gallop with cloaks flying.

Today, Chen Dasheng wore an escort’s saber at his waist, and on his back a gold-thread-embroidered pouch with blood-jade pendant and a five-colored silk tassel bag, holding within it the soul-severing long blade that commanded the three armies.

He wore a wingless black gauze cap, an embroidered black robe patterned with a roaring tiger woven into brocade. Around his waist, a gold-plated silver belt, hung with the escort’s bronze plaque, silver fish tally, silver fire-striker, an embossed leather pouch, and on his feet, calfskin-soled black boots.

But the most astonishing thing of all, the thing that dropped everyone’s jaws — the Rank Six Adjutant Lord Chen also had a face that had left the entire bodyguard corps, the Emperor, the whole Chang family, and half the eunuchs in the palace halls utterly stunned.

No one would have guessed that beneath the layers of dust once wiped away, there was a face like a sweet melon — yes, Chen Dasheng was born with an innately sweet look, what commoners called a “baby face.”

He had a round face, handsome eyebrows, upturned deer-like eyes, a nose neither too high nor too low, a mouth neither too full nor too thin, the right corner naturally curling upward — even without speaking he seemed to carry a hint of a smile, and when he did speak it was utterly disarming, an extremely likeable countenance.

The pity was, this was a man who’d served as a grizzled veteran wielding a long blade — and even standing at rigid attention, he still looked… sweet.

It had troubled the Emperor greatly. In the end it was Chang Lianfang who came up with a solution — have his second brother wear a fierce, menacing mask, which might, possibly, perhaps, help salvage the Long Blade Guard’s image.

So it was decided! The mask was being made.

And because he had to see the Emperor, this face of his had already been fussed over by Zeng Anbang, by Guo Qian, by Marquis Chang… Day after day, it was truly one skincare oil and fragrant balm after another. In short, over these dozen-odd days, seven old blades of men had tended to him from head to toe — right now not even his toenails had been spared attention.

Wherever he walked, a trail of pear-blossom fragrance drifted after him; people who passed by him caught a whiff of pear fruit and couldn’t help but sniff again.

Qiqian’er’s nose filled with fragrance. She certainly knew what Chen Dasheng looked like, but this version of him — this she had never seen.

He gazed at her, eyes bright, looking extremely sweet.

Chen Dasheng felt his performance was going rather well. But to Qiqian’er, this was like a memorial tablet suddenly transforming into a living, breathing person, right before her eyes.

She flinched, her heart pounding, and in her fright the ink bowl slipped from her hand.

Chen Dasheng, quick on his feet, bent and caught the ink bowl in time.

But no one had expected that Qiqian’er still held the brush in her other hand.

And so, the Rank Six Adjutant, the old blade the Emperor cherished, Lord Chen — his face was thoroughly decorated with thick ink, streaked from chin all the way up to his forehead.

He straightened up, smiling as he handed the ink bowl back to Qiqian’er, and asked, “What are you doing?”

Qiqian’er answered, dazed: “Claiming this house for our child!”

“Our child?”

“Mm, his name is An’er. His eyes look like yours, round, and he loves to smile too. It’s just a shame you haven’t met him yet.”

Chen Dasheng’s heart burst open like a rainbow, hanging right at the tip of his heart, sweetness overflowing through his whole being.

He said, “I’ll meet him eventually.”

Qiqian’er nodded, certain: “Yes. Three years from now.”

Chen Dasheng, in excellent spirits, pointed at the characters on the gate and asked, “I recognize this one — Chen.”

Qiqian’er nodded: “Mm, and below it is Dasheng — Chen Dasheng!”

Chen Dasheng sniffed: “Then — then let me help you! I know how to write it.”

Qiqian’er looked at the ink mark, blinked, and smiled too: “Alright!”