Chen Dasheng ran off after his wife, and naturally his brothers came trailing noisily after him.

The old lady crept furtively over to the kang cabinet, hid her silver cakes away again thinking herself quite discreet, and once properly seated, wiped her face as if nothing at all had happened, saying to Master Cheng with awkward composure: “Ah! Just like children, what a bother we’ve caused you! Look at them, up and down like this, a pair of good-for-nothings — seems like they think I’ve lived too long!”

Master Cheng glanced at Meng Wanquan, and Meng Wanquan glanced back at Master Cheng, and the two of them conspired to bow their heads and stifle their laughter together.

Still, in his heart, he was genuinely impressed. A woman like the old lady, who would sooner cut her own flesh than part with her money — the young mistress had truly found her weak point today. Meng Wanquan no longer had to worry about the old lady holding up the camp’s grain carts, snatching handfuls of horse feed along the way, and generally making his life miserable.

Master Cheng kindly tried to counsel the old lady: “Old lady, from now on your household’s circumstances have changed entirely — the people coming and going will no longer be ordinary folk. Your grandson’s wife has put in a great deal of careful thought just now; you should reflect on it seriously, and by no means carry on as you did before.”

Sadly, this well-meaning advice was entirely wasted — the old lady couldn’t follow a word of it, and simply turned to look at Meng Wanquan instead.

Meng Wanquan, having picked up a new skill today, hadn’t quite understood it either, but got the general gist, and explained it to the old lady in plainer terms: “Dasheng, well, he’s a proper official now, practically overnight risen to greatness with fine food to boot. From now on, when you go to some landowner’s feast, you’ll be seated right at the place of honor.

Nai, from now on you’d best think of his reputation too. And besides, you’re now a proper ‘Old Madam’ recognized by the Emperor himself — no more mixing with the crowd of gossiping wives, talking behind people’s backs! And you’d best stop herding the goats yourself too — starting tomorrow, I’ll have someone come lead them out to graze for you every day. It wouldn’t do for a court-recognized rank-six old lady to be out herding goats all day.”

Was the old lady herding goats out of necessity? She just had too much time on her hands.

So — now that she was a proper lady, they wouldn’t even let her herd her own goats anymore?

Hearing this, the old lady felt a wave of loneliness settle over her. She spread her hands, rubbing at the calluses on her palms, sighing softly: “Ah, listen to you all — this is something I never dared even dream of, chanting to Amitabha Buddha and all. I’m just an old woman who’s spent her life scratching a living out of the dirt. Now I’m scratching away and somehow it reaches the Emperor’s ears, and he gives me this… but how would I even know how to be a fine lady, an ‘Old Madam’? Can’t go out the door, can’t herd goats — then what am I supposed to do?”

She looked at Master Cheng and Meng Wanquan: “I’ve never in ten lifetimes seen what a fine lady even looks like. If I’m going to pretend to be one, you two will have to help Nai find some kind of mold to shape myself after!”

Indeed — who was there to learn from?

The two men sat there thinking it over for a good while, until suddenly Master Cheng clapped his hands and said, “I’ve got it!”

At the same moment, Meng Wanquan looked up and said, “I’ve got it too!”

Together, they said to the old lady: “Learn from Madam Tao!”

At this, the old lady jerked back, her mouth full of pure disdain: “What? Learn from her? That one? That vicious old thing? Learn from her? A woman with enough scheming in her belly to bury five hundred pounds of well-stone under the sludge — learn from her?”

Meng Wanquan agreed with the old lady’s assessment, but pressed on regardless: “Nai, you don’t need to learn her sharp tongue toward her daughters-in-law and daughters, and you don’t need to learn her scheming either. Just watch how she carries herself in dealing with others, that’s all. Honestly, I think she does a rather convincing job of it.”

Master Cheng nodded in agreement as well: “That’s exactly it. Old lady, from now on when you observe people, don’t focus on their flaws, and don’t go out gossiping about their faults either — just take note of the good and learn from that. And wasn’t it said that Madam Tao’s family used to serve as officials in the county yamen? They’d have some family bearing and refinement passed down, their manner and conduct would naturally be…”

“What refinement! You’re just falling for her boasting, as if anyone doesn’t already know the truth!” The old lady lifted her chin, cutting in with contempt: “It was her own eldest daughter-in-law who let it slip year before last, I heard it myself — Madam Tao’s father, hmph! He used to be a jailer, watching over the prison! Pah! Putting on airs every day like she’s some official’s daughter, and looking down on us farming folk…”

The old lady’s words weren’t actually wrong. In common reckoning of social rank, farmers were considered among the “upper” classes in the eyes of every sage, while clerks, runners, matchmakers, prostitutes, actors, thieves, spirit-mediums, and merchants were counted among the “lower nine” trades, doomed never to rise.

Master Cheng had no taste for gossip or idle talk, and turned to look out the window instead, thinking privately: You seem to have forgotten that not long ago every man in your own household was an indentured servant sold into bondage, not even counted as fully human — and now you look down on others?

Meng Wanquan, finding it tiresome to keep arguing with the old lady, raised his voice: “What’s the use going on about all this? Madam Tao’s son serves at the Thousand-Household Office over in the Four Prefectures, that’s a respectable post, already a proper official.

And don’t go speaking ill of her either — whatever goes on in her family is her own business. Whatever the case, in all my time coming and going, I’ve never once heard Madam Tao say an unkind word about her neighbors, never heard her gossip badly about anyone. Just for that alone, I think she’s a decent sort. So, Nai — why not learn from her?”

The old lady sat stunned for a good while, turning it over carefully in her mind, before finally sighing and giving in: “Fine, I’ll learn! That old Tao woman, hmph…”

At the courtyard where the Tao family was temporarily staying near the mouth of the alley, a dozen or so women’s hands moved briskly back and forth — spinning wheels, reels, looms, all bustling with activity.

The clack of the loom’s pedals mixed with the bubbling of the iron pot beneath the silk-reeling frame… Now and then, a woman would glance warily toward the curtained doorway, and seeing it safe, would plunge her reddened hand into the hot pot, fish out a cooked cocoon, crack it open, quickly pull out the pupa inside, and without even turning around, pop it into the mouth of a seven- or eight-year-old girl behind her, busy winding thread.

The little girl bit down eagerly, glanced at her mother’s back, and grinned to herself in secret.

Beyond the curtain, Madam Tao knelt in devout prayer.

Atop an old earthenware vat sat a stone slab, and on the stone slab stood a roughly carved wooden statue of Guanyin.

Madam Tao didn’t know any actual sutras, so she simply knelt reverently and murmured “Amitabha Buddha” with each prostration — kneel down, “Amitabha Buddha,” rise up, “Amitabha Buddha” again.

Three motions per cycle, repeated nine full sets, before Madam Tao finally rose, bracing her aching lower back. She glanced first at her daughter-in-law, granddaughter, and daughter beyond the curtain, seeing them all diligently, silently at work, and nodded in satisfaction. Only then did she bend down to untie the cloth cushion from her knees, murmur one more “Amitabha Buddha,” and set the cushion beside the statue.

She walked silently to the doorway, silently and slowly lifted the door curtain, and silently made her way from the back courtyard of this grand house that wasn’t hers, toward the front courtyard.

Only once her foot crossed the threshold into the front courtyard did she finally let out a slow breath. She glanced back once more at the back courtyard, then turned forward, smoothing her hair as she walked toward the main hall.

The main hall was bare of anything. Zhou Jizong leaned against a bare pillar, gazing out at the early-winter scenery, thinking over his recent misfortunes, his mood souring, filled with a listless weariness.

Madam Tao made her way slowly to the doorway, looking at the youngest son she hadn’t seen in years. After a long moment, she let out a short laugh.

Seeing his mother, Zhou Jizong immediately dropped from sitting to kneeling, prostrating himself on the ground, calling out: “Mother.”

Madam Tao didn’t come in, just stood in the doorway basking in the sun, tugging at a loose thread on her sleeve, mocking him: “What, you finally deigned to come find your beggar mother?”

Zhou Jizong lay quiet for a moment before lifting his head to explain: “A son does not speak ill of his father. When Father decided to take us away, he wanted us to change our surname — we didn’t dare refuse to go, didn’t dare disobey.”

Madam Tao kept up the mockery: “Don’t try shifting the blame onto him! Your second brother never ran off. Of course, reasoning’s always on your side, isn’t it — I could never out-argue any of you, you always find some justification.

And what was I, then? Just something to be tossed aside without a second thought.

But if that Zhou Xingfa had an ounce of backbone, he never should have married into our Tao family on our money in the first place! Oh, but the moment the state fell into chaos and the family crumbled, once the Tao family was no longer any use to him, he turned right around and ran. You all ran off with him and never bothered coming back — as far as I’m concerned, you all died that day! Fine! Enjoying yourselves out there, of course you’d never think of me. Now that your luck’s turned, suddenly I’m your beggar mother again. Zhou Jizong, a person can’t behave this way — even in trade, both sides have to agree to the deal! Go find your father, you and your third brother!”

Zhou Jizong lay there a long while before finally looking up: “Father… he said there’s nothing he can do.”

Madam Tao gave a cold laugh at this: “He’s been a company commander over in the Southern Four Prefectures for years now, and you two have served as personal guards to a general for three, five years — and you’re telling me he can’t scrape together a hundred taels or so? I don’t believe that for a second.”

Zhou Jizong: “It’s truly not about a hundred taels, Mother. Third Brother’s locked up right now, and both our posts have been suspended… An old friend has thought of a few possible ways to fix it, all workable, it’s just — Mother!” He kowtowed hard. “We have no way to open the right doors, no proper bribe to offer. I beg you, for the sake of us once being mother and son, please save me and Third Brother.”

Madam Tao looked at her son, knocking his head against the ground like a gourd ladle, and after a long moment said with a bitter laugh: “I knew it. I just knew it! Coming to find me so eagerly — it’s our old family’s gilded Buddha statue you’re after, isn’t it.”

Zhou Jizong lifted his bloodied forehead, pleading: “Mother! Please, save us, Mother!”

Madam Tao demanded sharply: “Don’t you have a father?! Weren’t you so filial to him? Where’s your father? Where’s Zhou Xingfa? Go find him!”

She shouldn’t have brought it up — the moment she did, his eyes filled with tears. Zhou Jizong’s heart ached, and he said, trembling: “Father, he’s had another family for years now, already has two sons of his own. When I went to him, Father said, you’re all grown now, he has enough burdens of his own, told us to figure it out ourselves, and said… said you still have a gilded Buddha statue… Mother! Please, save us!”

Something in Madam Tao’s chest twisted sharply, like a needle. She sniffed, walked slowly to the steps outside, and sat down, murmuring to herself: “Well, that’s fair enough, a man’s bound to start a new family sooner or later eventually… As for me, I sold that gilded Buddha long ago, what are you even hoping for? All these years, we’ve pretended not to know your second brother is dead, clinging shamelessly to the old camp just to survive.

Other families have husbands, sons, grandsons sending military stipends home to support their wives and children. But you all abandoned your own wives and daughters, off starting new families, living it up out there, while leaving this poor old woman buried under debts she never asked for!

Who do I have? Just an entire household of widows and orphans… and I still can’t even admit you’re dead, still have to pretend you’re all alive, still have to fake it now and then, pretend you sent this or that back home!

Ha, what sins we must have committed. Don’t even bother asking — I sold that gilded Buddha ages ago, bought livestock with it, bought a cart, bought a loom and silk-reeling wheel. This whole way here, we’ve survived by weaving and spinning thread, barely scraping by even now. Go on, leave. I can’t help you. Your father’s gone from my life too…”

Behind her, she heard the faint rustle of movement, and Madam Tao knew — her son was standing up.

Of course. No one rises early without profit in mind. Without the gilded Buddha, this mother of his no longer needed kneeling to.

Just as Madam Tao sat lost in her thoughts, a knock suddenly sounded at the gate.

Madam Tao looked up, cleared her throat with a small cough, and called out: “Who is it?”

From outside the gate came Qiqian’er’s voice: “Madam Tao, it’s me, Madam Huo from the Chen household, Dasheng’s wife.”

Hearing his own name, Chen Dasheng couldn’t help but look at Qiqian’er with barely restrained delight.

Cradling the brocade, Qiqian’er asked without even turning her head: “What are you smiling about?”

Chen Dasheng just shook his head — he was simply happy, inexplicably so, hearing himself referred to as “hers.”

Hearing it was Qiqian’er, Madam Tao froze for a moment, glanced at the few goats tied at her gate, and immediately stood up: “Oh my, honored guests at the door — coming, coming!”

With that, she checked her reflection in a half-full water vat in the courtyard, brushed off the dust, straightened her clothes, hurried to the gate, then slowed her final two steps to something more composed, opened the door with a warm smile — and froze.

Outside stood Qiqian’er and Chen Dasheng, side by side. Qiqian’er held in her hands a bolt of brilliantly colored, extraordinarily luxurious brocade.

Under the sunlight, it looked as though she cradled a treasure of pure gold.

Behind the two of them followed six attendants, dressed with proper decorum.

My word — putting on such airs, servants trailing behind them and all? Was this a show of force, coming to flaunt their status in front of her poor household? Or something else entirely?

Madam Tao had no idea that those six behind them were also rank-seven officials themselves. She noted only that their clothes were the sort worn by household servants — however new or fine the fabric, respectable people never wore short robes in public.

Grumbling inwardly, Madam Tao nonetheless spoke with overflowing warmth: “Oh my, oh my! If it isn’t our Adjutant Lord gracing my door again! Quick, quick, come in, sit, please, come inside, quick, quick!”

That’s what she said aloud, but inside her stomach was twisting with dread — she was terrified they’d actually insist on coming in and sitting down. This girl wasn’t one to trifle with, her eyes had always been sharp and merciless.

Besides, her household genuinely didn’t own so much as a single proper chair to receive guests with.

Fortunately, Qiqian’er immediately declined: “No need, Madam Tao. I’m still in mourning attire, it wouldn’t be proper for me to enter another’s home.”

Relieved, Madam Tao said, “Right, right, how could I forget — you’re such a filial, proper girl!” She turned to praise Chen Dasheng: “Out of this whole group, if we’re talking about someone who can manage everything inside and out, it’s your wife! And if we’re talking filial piety, I’m not exaggerating, it’s your wife again! You’re a lucky man, Adjutant Lord!”

Chen Dasheng grinned so wide his eyes narrowed to slits.

After the praise, Madam Tao’s expression turned hesitant: “Niece-in-law, this is…”

The moment she said this, Qiqian’er’s eyelids flicked up sharply, giving her a look somewhere between amusement and warning.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Pah!” Madam Tao immediately slapped her own face, then laughed apologetically at Chen Dasheng: “Look at my memory, how could I possibly still act the way I used to.”

With that, she stepped down properly, bracing her knees, and formally bowed to Qiqian’er, greeting them as “Adjutant Lord” and “Madam.”

Chen Dasheng had never experienced anything like this before, and awkwardly moved to do something himself, but his formidable wife kicked him and shot him two hard glares, and he didn’t dare move again.

Qiqian’er smiled sweetly at Madam Tao, nodding, one hand gesturing lightly with the brocade held loosely: “Please, get up! Look at you, there’s no need for this! You’re too courteous! We’re not strangers here — if our old lady found out, she’d surely scold us for it… From now on, please, no more of this.”

Both of them knew this was mere courtesy.

After today, from now on, this was simply how things would be.

Qiqian’er refused to acknowledge their past relationship —

And why should she? She’d never eaten off this woman, never drunk from her hand. The old lady always said that on the road fleeing disaster, everyone looked out for themselves — none of the Tao family’s younger generation had ever lifted a finger to help the old lady carry anything. There was no old friendship to speak of now; whatever friendship existed was between this family and Qiao Shi, always warm and close, and they were even planning to become in-laws through marriage in the future. As for the accounts between them going forward, those would need to be carefully tallied up as well…

There was no grudge between them yet, and Qiqian’er had no intention of giving her the chance to stir up trouble. But Madam Tao — from today onward, there would be no more room for her to lord it over Qiqian’er.

And so, one way or another, Qiqian’er would accept this bow from Old Madam Tao today.

She thought to herself: I’ve given your family face, supported your business, taken pity on your household’s hardworking women toiling day after day — yet you had to use that fool Chen Dasheng as a stepping stone. Don’t blame me for being less than courteous, then!

You offered your face up for it — it would be rude of me not to strike it.

Madam Tao, inwardly unwilling to keep looking at her sour expression, turned instead with a smile to Chen Dasheng: “I don’t suppose the Adjutant Lord has come to my humble door for some particular reason? If it’s more goats you’re after, oh, just take them all, consider it this old woman’s tribute to your family…”

The words carried a biting edge, thick with barely concealed resentment.

Behind the gate, a faint sound stirred. Qiqian’er’s ear twitched, but without turning back she smiled at Madam Tao: “Not at all. It’s that Dasheng didn’t handle things properly — insisted on bringing back an extra goat from your family. Our old lady was quite upset when she heard, said Madam Tao’s whole household already has it hard enough, how could you bear to accept such a fine goat from them? So, well —”

She lifted the shimmering, radiant brocade in her hands with a smile: “This was granted by the palace the other day, the kind of fine brocade the palace ladies themselves wear. We’ve come to offer it as an apology.”

Madam Tao stared at the brocade before her, thoroughly stunned.

This was brocade! Even if you wanted to buy it, you’d never find it on the market — this wasn’t something one or two hundred taels could buy, palace-made brocade like this, and a whole bolt too, not just a few feet. How could something like this even be priced in silver?

An apology gift, this? The old lady was full of careful calculations, but someone who only knew how to earn fifty taels would never understand the experience of earning fifty-one. Everything she’d learned in the first half of her life combined couldn’t explain why Qiqian’er would give her a whole bolt of brocade.

But this old lady was clever too — if she couldn’t be certain, she wouldn’t dare take it! Even though her heart screamed to accept, she managed to hold back and decline — which, in itself, was quite something.

She waved her hands: “Absolutely not, something this fine…”

But before she could finish, a man came bursting out of the courtyard, his forehead covered in blood.

He ran out, dropped to his knees before Qiqian’er and the others with a thud, kowtowed, stood up, his eyes immediately fixed on the bolt of brocade, then turned pitifully to Madam Tao, calling out miserably: “Mother.”

Madam Tao, still unwilling, said: “It really was just one goat, worth at most five taels even at the highest price, no matter what—”

“Mother!!”

Zhou Jizong threw his arms around his mother’s legs. With this bolt of brocade in hand, it was worth far more than that gilded Buddha ever was — this was an item made within the palace itself.

Qiqian’er, unwilling to get tangled up in their family affairs, watched mother and son locked in this standoff, then simply reached out and placed the brocade directly into Madam Tao’s hands.

Madam Tao reached to take it, moving to kneel, but Qiqian’er had already grabbed Chen Dasheng’s arm and was walking briskly away.

Madam Tao stood there stunned, watching until their figures vanished at the mouth of the alley. Only when she looked down again did she realize — the brocade in her hands was gone.

“Fourth Boy!!!”

Madam Tao’s lifetime of dignity crumbled entirely as she let out a sharp cry.

Zhou Jizong, already running, stopped in his tracks. He turned around slowly and knelt, kowtowing three times to his mother: “Mother! I know — I know I’ve shamed you again, torn away your dignity! My life means nothing, but I have a wife and children, and Third Brother, he’s still locked up in prison!

Mother! I need this to save Third Brother, please let me have it, and then at least I’ll have a beggar mother to call my own… Mother! This can buy us a future! Don’t worry, Mother — if things go smoothly, by next spring at the latest, April or May, we’ll work our way back to your side. Then Third Brother and I will come home! We’ll both take back the Tao name!”

Madam Tao watched, helpless, as her son ran off. Her heart ached sharply; clutching her chest, she stumbled to her own gate, braced herself against the wall, and slowly sank down onto the step at the doorway…

She didn’t know how long had passed before someone murmured softly: “Grandmother?”

Madam Tao wiped away her tears and turned to see a thin young man in a long scholar’s robe, holding a bowl of water, looking at her with worry.

She smiled, her voice full of affection: “There’s my little top scholar. Grandmother’s fine. Come, sit beside me, good boy.”

The young man was the orphaned son her second son had left behind, formally named Tao Wentong — “Top Scholar” was his childhood nickname.

Tao Wentong offered the bowl of water to his grandmother and sat down beside her.

Stroking his head, Madam Tao said, her voice tinged with sorrow: “I always thought — when the new emperor takes the throne, there’s bound to be a special imperial examination. Your late grandfather always said those special exams were the easiest to pass. Now that we’ve traded one goat for a favor, tomorrow I’ll go to Yanjing, swallow my pride once more, and beg this new noble family to help find my good grandson a place at an academy… ah!”

Madam Tao tilted her head up, looking at the lintel above the courtyard gate.

Four tiers of tiles lined it.

“In the end, in this world, there’s always a higher mountain beyond the one you stand on.”

Grandmother and grandson sat there for who knew how long, until the sun began to set, when Madam Tao finally said to Tao Wentong: “Good boy, go tell your little aunt — tomorrow, return those eggs Qiao Shi sent over. From now on… this family is done associating with her.”

Tao Wentong didn’t understand, and asked: “Why? Auntie Qiao’s always been kind. Grandmother, we don’t have any other income — Auntie Qiao said she’d give us a string of coins each month.”

Madam Tao stood, patted his shoulder, and smiled: “She was just testing the waters. Your little aunt never told her she could read, and besides — now that our family has accepted something from a person of standing, we mustn’t do anything that would displease that person. Understand?”

“Mm, I understand. Doesn’t some book say — accepting someone’s money means sharing in their troubles? Grandmother, I still want to study though.”

“Ha, your great-grandfather used to say the same thing, back when our family had nothing! Never mind, forget it — my boy will study! My boy will study! I’ll sell off the cloth we’ve stored up, however it takes, we’ll make sure you have books to read. After that, as long as we keep our hands busy, we won’t be short a coin or two here and there — how is that not a life? Oh, my little top scholar…”

As the sun set, two bloodied goat heads hung from the branches of the courtyard’s osmanthus tree, eyes open even in death, along with two goatskins still bearing the fur at the neck.

The old lady’s endless scolding echoed through the courtyard.

“Oh! Mother! Ancestors! Open your eyes and look at this!… I’m honestly afraid people will think you don’t know how to properly behead something! Has no one ever seen a goat slaughtered with one clean stroke of the blade? Do you think you’re all executioners from the yamen or something!

Look at all this blood everywhere, what a waste! Grown men, twenty years old and up, and not one of you knows how to properly butcher a goat!!”

In the main hall, two stoves crackled with fire beneath their iron pots, both bubbling with steam — one full of goat bones and whole organs, the other brimming with tumbling chunks of goat meat.

On the great kang in the east room, the yellow wax candles Chen Dasheng and the others had brought back were already lit.

An extravagance today — a full six candles burning, lighting up every corner of the sizeable east room.

In front of Qiqian’er sat a long, low chest — the little table she’d smashed now reduced to nothing more than this makeshift replacement.

Atop the chest lay brush, ink, paper, inkstone, along with a pile of silver cakes, broken silver pieces, and a scatter of a few dozen copper coins giving off their faint metallic scent.

And at Qiqian’er’s feet, gleaming in a golden heap, lay five strings of copper coins tied with hemp rope, along with a large cloth sack.

Directly in front of the chest, Yu Qingguan and the others knelt in a row, one after another, reporting their accounts to Qiqian’er.

Hearing that Qiqian’er wasn’t going to settle accounts with Chen Dasheng, and with Qiao Shi and her fourth son having already made off with her grandson’s savings, the old lady felt a twinge of guilt and dragged over a little stool, fleeing the scene under the pretext of watching the meat pots.

But this sort of “watching” wasn’t innocent — she was practically pressing her ear to the wall, straining to catch every single figure mentioned.

Occasionally, when no one was around, she’d slip into the west room, emerge now and then with a coarse porcelain bowl, scoop out a bowl of goat meat, take a stroll around the courtyard, and come back with empty hands…

Everyone saw it. Everyone pretended not to.

The courtyard gate creaked, and Chen Dasheng came in carrying a large and small steelyard scale.

The old lady shot up, ran over to bolt the door, then stood there listening intently for a good while, and only once certain it was safe did she creep quietly back inside.

Meng Wanquan came in, set his things down on the chest, and pulled a bulging silver pouch from his own robes, placing it on the kang: “I’m troubling you, little sister-in-law, please help me work out the accounts too. Heh, I, I need to figure out how I’m going to live from now on…”

Ever since learning he could occupy a house rent-free, Meng Wanquan had felt like heaven itself had finally opened its eyes on him. It wasn’t that he wasn’t envious of his sworn brother — but some things simply couldn’t be had both ways. He’d given up an arm, but at least kept his life, and survived.

Qiqian’er smiled at the sight of his silver pouch, tilting her chin toward the back of the line: “Sure. Brother Quan, get in line behind Si’er — I’ll settle yours properly, last.”

“Ah! Good, good! I’m in your debt, little sister-in-law — please, guide this clumsy brother well. Don’t worry, I’ll repay you handsomely later!”

Qiqian’er shot him a glare: “What’s this talk of repayment, like we’re strangers? Get in line.”

Meng Wanquan grinned, delighted, and went to take his place in line.

Chen Dasheng remained as quiet as ever, following behind his wife like a young servant, pouring her tea, fetching water, occasionally slipping a piece of pastry into her mouth.

The old lady’s cabinet, naturally, remained locked, and Qiqian’er hadn’t given him the key.

But this fellow was cunning — every so often he’d lift the entire cabinet door off its hinges, glance furtively toward the outer room, and with his hands behind his back, smuggle a pastry to his wife, then quietly put the door back in place.

Qiqian’er never called him out on it, and instead nodded approvingly at him.

Well done indeed! Keep it up, please.

Chen Dasheng, encouraged, grew even more enthusiastic about his smuggling, his eyes practically shimmering with the same luster as the brocade.

Sorting out everyone’s finances was Qiqian’er’s next great concern — she had to take charge of managing whatever silver these fools currently had, laying a solid foundation for their lives going forward. She needed to help them build up proper households, find them well-matched wives to carry on their family lines, so that their descendants would never become a burden to her An’er — and might even, someday, become a source of support for him instead.

Otherwise, given the wits of these few men, once they went somewhere like Yanjing, even with a rank-six official’s salary and no one to watch over or guide them, even with ten thousand taels in savings, a place like Yanjing had more than enough temptations to match whatever wealth they carried — however much money they had, it wouldn’t be enough for what they’d end up squandering it on.

Of course, all things considered, they were doing fairly well for now — mainly because none of them had ever had the chance to spend money before. Aside from what Chen Dasheng had handed over most of over the years, leaving him the poorest of the group, each of the other six had something in the range of a few hundred taels to their name.

Qiqian’er picked up the large steelyard scale, then the small one, weighing out Yu Qingguan’s share, then picked up the bound ledger book in front of her and wrote the character for “one,” adding a heavy, dark stroke beneath it.

She held up the ledger and said to Yu Qingguan: “Uncle, remember this — this is one. This is your account. The pile on your table here comes to five hundred thirty-two taels plus forty copper coins.”

Yu Qingguan studied the stroke earnestly and nodded with certainty, pretending to understand completely, nodding as though he had ten thousand acres of good land tucked away in his mind: “That’s right, much obliged to you, little sister-in-law, that’s exactly the figure.”

He hadn’t the faintest idea — past thirty, numbers all blurred together for him anyway.

Qiqian’er smiled, took his hand, and had him press his thumbprint onto the total, then returned the forty coins to him. The rest, she swept with a practiced motion into the large cloth sack at her side.

At the jingling, clinking sound of the heavy silver pieces knocking together, the old lady outside the room could no longer bear it.

Bracing herself against the wall, she bent low, gasping: “My heart! Oh, my heart!”

But in bending down like that — oh no — half a potful of goat meat slipped right out from where she’d smuggled it away, leaving nothing behind now but broth with no meat in sight.

Not that it mattered — the old lady, still braced against the wall, clutching her chest, cursed under her breath: “That thunder-struck old Tao woman, black-hearted as she is — these goats were far too skinny anyway!!”