Yu Qingguan sat beneath the window, listening intently. Inside, Physician Cheng was taking Ding Yuniang’s pulse.

A whole tale of joy and sorrow, and Qiqian’er had thought of everything before any of them—first thing that morning, she’d personally invited Physician Cheng to come check on the entire Yu family.

This examination turned out to matter—from Old Madam Yu down to the youngest, Yu Youtian, everyone had some ailment or another, greater or smaller.

The worst was Ding Yuniang. She suffered severe exhaustion-related depletion, along with a serious gynecological condition. This plain, hardworking woman, who couldn’t even finish a full sentence, had single-handedly carried the weight of the whole family ever since her husband left.

Seven years, gathering dry firewood to sell for five coins a load, Ding Yuniang made the trip up the mountain and back to town twice a day, then still had to labor in the rented fields, and come home to serve her mother-in-law and care for her children. Yet even now, seeing her husband again, her face showed nothing but a contented smile, not a trace of complaint.

No one knew how she’d endured it. If Chief Escort Ma hadn’t gone when he did, Physician Cheng said, Ding Yuniang wouldn’t have made it to next year—there was practically nothing left of her but a shell.

Physician Cheng first prescribed the Ten-Ingredient Restore Vitality Decoction. That single prescription alone would cost more than ten strings of cash a month.

Yu Qingguan sat with his head in his hands under the window, silently weeping, while Ding Yuniang seemed to have set her worries down, smiling with quiet certainty throughout. Occasionally Yu Daniu glanced anxiously at her mother, and Ding Yuniang would comfort her daughter as always, forcing out the words one by one: “Don’t. Worry.”

The whole room dissolved into tears at once.

“You really do think of everything.”

Chen Dasheng gazed at his wife with a face full of gratitude—if not for her, no one else would have thought to bring in a physician like this, spending good money on medicine that no one had even asked for.

Even Grandmother had said doctors were just scaremongers—leave them alone and nothing’s wrong with you, call one in and they’ll conjure up a whole body’s worth of illness.

But this was Physician Cheng. Who wouldn’t trust him?

Hearing Chen Dasheng’s gratitude, Qiqian’er said, as though relieved of a burden: “Don’t say that. It’s just money, that’s all. Take good care of them—Daniu and the others have good days ahead of them.” She looked up and met his eyes, confirming it once more: “At least we weren’t too late. I’m genuinely happy about that.”

She’d once looked upon everyone in this world with resentment, thinking: my life turned out so miserably, so why do wicked people still get buried in gold-threaded jade and die surrounded by descendants?

Was Heaven blind?

Looking back now, Heaven was innocent.

Even the wealthy had their moments of hard work; even if the wealthy weren’t working hard now, their ancestors had worked hard once.

From the day she’d returned, she’d thrown herself into constant motion, never giving herself a moment to pause and catch her breath. She’d wanted to test herself, to see if these thin hands of hers, this body without an ounce of spare flesh, could stand against that nameless force above…

Looking at things now, this first step, at least, she had won.

Look—those who should have vanished, been forgotten, were all here now… Qiqian’er leaned against the doorframe, quietly watching Ding Yuniang. Chen Dasheng came over from the side and quietly took hold of her hand.

Qiqian’er rolled her eyes hugely at him.

As if sensing something, Ding Yuniang turned to look at Qiqian’er, then broke into a wide smile.

Qiqian’er smiled back, secretly slipping her hand free of Chen Dasheng’s, and gave Ding Yuniang a thumbs-up to show everything was fine.

Ding Yuniang’s eyes lit up, and in an instant she looked lighter, tilting her head at her daughter with a wink and saying: “See, no. Worry!”

Everyone in the room could tell just how serious it was, yet they had to smile back at her as if nothing were wrong.

The man beneath the windowsill let out a choked sob. Qiqian’er signaled with her eyes for Chen Dasheng to go comfort him.

Chen Dasheng, looking helpless, walked over, sat down, and patted Yu Qingguan’s shoulder. “Come on! Didn’t you hear what Physician Cheng said—slow and steady, bit by bit, she’ll be right as rain eventually! Look at you, moping—what, can’t handle heavy labor anymore? Or are you just being stingy about the money?”

Yu Qingguan let out another sob, wiped his nose, and choked out: “Chief, what are you saying! I’d bankrupt the whole family to treat Yuniang properly! I just feel—I feel like I’ve wronged her so badly. Chief, you tell me—what did she ever owe you? She married in, was good to you back then, so pretty! And hardworking too! Could run ten-some li without tiring. And look, in just these few years, I’ve worn her down to this… I just feel I’ve wronged her…”

Chen Dasheng patted Yu Qingguan’s shoulder, glancing over at Qiqian’er.

Qiqian’er’s mouth curved slightly; her opinion of Yu Qingguan rose another notch—rare indeed. So many women on Quanhou Street had fought through wars and hardship their whole lives—which of them had ever heard a single word of “I’ve wronged you”?

Grandmother, Madam Wan, Madam Gao… even scheming old Madam Tao—every one of them had come into this world properly, found a husband as custom dictated, borne him children, run his household… yet who, even on their deathbed, ever got a word of thanks for the hardship? Everyone just assumed it was owed, because that’s how every other woman lived too.

She’d once hated this bitterly. But now she saw it, heard it—people really were different from one another. Some had conscience; some weren’t blind to it.

A man with this much conscience—Yu Qingguan deserved good days ahead!

Just as she was lost in thought, Yiyue came in from outside smiling, leaned over to whisper something in Qiqian’er’s ear. Qiqian’er laughed on hearing it and waved at Chen Dasheng.

“Come here.”

Chen Dasheng stood up, puzzled, and followed Qiqian’er out of the courtyard before asking: “What is it?”

Qiqian’er glanced around, then whispered close to his ear: “Madam Zhang from Ministry of Personnel Lane—that Miss Zhang I told you about—she’s here! Quick, go get Jintai cleaned up, make him look presentable! Oh—don’t tell that fool the truth, he can’t be trusted to act natural, it’ll just make him nervous… just find some excuse to send him over to Grandmother’s courtyard, let her get a good look at him…”

Chen Dasheng’s face flooded with shock, and he lowered his voice to confirm: “This fast?”

He’d only mentioned it once, just the night before.

Qiqian’er swatted him. “This is fast? Don’t you all sell yourselves short. Every single one of you in our household would make some mother-in-law’s favorite son-in-law. Go on, quick, find him!”

With that, Qiqian’er took Yiyue and swept off, as if riding on the wind—this was how the young mistress always walked, as if chasing something down.

Chen Dasheng stood rooted to the spot, watching until his wife entered Grandmother’s old courtyard, then chuckled to himself, turned, and called his brothers together to go find Tong Jintai.

Madam Dong of Ministry of Personnel Lane had brought her daughter Zhang Wanru to sit with the Chen family, and even now, Madam Dong was still in a daze. If old Madam Xu hadn’t come by that very morning to mention it, she’d never have dared imagine such good fortune could fall on her family.

Thinking of this, Madam Dong reached over and smoothed her daughter’s hairline again. Zhang Wanru, helpless, could only think quietly to herself.

So it really was the feng shui here—they’d only just moved in, and already this morning the magpies were calling and such good fortune had come knocking?

She twisted the handkerchief in her hands restlessly—fifteen cats seemed to be clawing at her heart—and no wonder she was uneasy, her family’s fortunes had never been good these past years.

Whatever anyone thought of Madam Dong’s husband, Zhang Zhengci, holding a post in the Ministry of Personnel, the truth was that real power there now belonged entirely to Shao Shang’s faction—only those the Emperor trusted were assigned to such crucial posts, overseeing the selection, promotion, and evaluation of officials across the realm.

And what was her husband Zhang Zhengci? A leftover official from the previous dynasty.

It was precisely this constant unease, this feeling of belonging nowhere, that had driven them to sell their house in the capital and move to the relatively peaceful Quanhou Street.

These days, Madam Dong told herself every day: not bad, not bad at all! At least the whole family was still together, not one missing. Look at all those once-untouchable great houses from before—what had become of them now?

This past half year, sitting at home, all she heard was gossip: so-and-so’s family, how they’d ended up; this person up north, that person’s rebellion in the south, the whole family now under arrest, maybe even three generations wiped out…

Just hearing it was terrifying enough.

That their whole family had made it safely through to the new dynasty was thanks entirely to her husband’s foresight—he’d seen the danger signs early and placed himself somewhere safe, which was how he’d preserved the family.

Madam Dong was deeply grateful, not daring to complain even slightly, for fear of angering Heaven with her ingratitude. Even with her eldest daughter’s marriage prospects ruined, all she could do was burn incense daily, praying Heaven would show them a way—she didn’t dare ask for anything more.

Yet who could have guessed that this very morning, old Madam Xu from Ministry of Works Lane next door had come in person, saying the young mistress of Imperial Guard Lane had taken a liking to her eldest daughter, and wanted her to act as matchmaker between the two families.

For quite some time now, the noble ladies of all six ministry lanes had been eyeing the unmarried gentlemen of Imperial Guard Lane. Though those men technically held only nominal titles, the conditions offered by these seventh-rank gentlemen were as good as could possibly be.

First and foremost, they had the Emperor’s favor! Even a legitimate daughter of a third- or fourth-rank official’s household would be a suitable match. Furthermore, they were the Emperor’s own faction, former followers of Shao Shang—their future prospects were limitless. What’s more, no parents-in-law above them, no burdensome relatives on either side, and a whole group of devoted brothers looking out for each other! Whichever family’s daughter married in would immediately become mistress of the household—setting aside the one gentleman missing an arm, the remaining five stirred the hearts of every mother in the lanes something fierce.

Marrying into such a match wasn’t like marrying off a daughter—it was practically gaining a son for the family.

With a match this good, any family with a daughter of proper age would naturally consider it seriously.

But Madam Dong hadn’t dared hope, because her legitimate daughter Zhang Wanru was already twenty-four this year, with no prospects at all.

Just thinking of her daughter made Madam Dong ache. It wasn’t that the family had neglected the girl deliberately—it was simply bad luck! Right when the girl reached marrying age, an elder in the family passed away. No sooner had they finished the mourning period than the old grandmother back home had made a fuss, insisting on having the girl come stay in the old hometown for a while.

Who could have predicted the world would fall into such chaos! With armies clashing, their hometown ended up on the opposite side from the capital. Poor girl—for her own safety, she’d been forced to become a Daoist nun at a temple to avoid trouble.

It wasn’t until five years later, when peace finally returned, that they’d sent someone to bring her back—and by then, well, it was truly hopeless. The girl was already twenty-four.

They didn’t dare complain—at least the whole family was alive, no one missing.

These past months, Madam Dong and her husband had been tossing and turning at night over their eldest daughter—being leftover officials from the old dynasty was bad enough luck as it was, and now what kind of son-in-law could possibly match an overage daughter like this?

Twenty-four! Other families’ daughters at twenty-four already had three or four children in their arms.

A servant girl’s voice came from the courtyard: “…the young mistress is here!”

Madam Dong scrambled to her feet. Seeing the young mistress of Imperial Guard Lane enter, she hurried to pull her daughter up to greet her, addressing her properly and bowing together.

Qiqian’er studied Zhang Wanru intently, and inwardly nodded with approval.

This twenty-four-year-old unmarried young lady wore a goose-yellow half-sleeve robe with a pleated skirt today, no powder on her face at all, just a faint touch of lip color for a hint of warmth. Her hair was done in a lily-parted chignon, held with a single plain gold filigree hairpin. Her features were fine and graceful, and her bearing carried an easy, open dignity.

Qiqian’er was secretly pleased. She stepped forward, took Madam Dong’s arm, and settled her back into her seat, saying: “You’re too polite. If our two families become in-laws, you’ll be a generation above me—it’s you who should be receiving a bow from me…”

With that, the young mistress actually gave Madam Dong a proper junior’s bow, addressing her as “Auntie.”

Madam Dong startled up from her seat, protesting she didn’t deserve such treatment. But Qiqian’er had already turned and taken the still-bowed-head Zhang Wanru’s hand, saying warmly and familiarly: “Miss Zhang, let me say this upfront—if our two families come together, you’ll have to follow the customs of Imperial Guard Lane! I intend to be your little sister-in-law!”

Zhang Wanru, still bowing her head, flushed crimson at these words. She glanced up at Qiqian’er, then lowered her head again.

Madam Dong, sitting beside them, was so moved she nearly wept, repeating over and over: “Whatever you say, Madam, whatever you say…”

But her daughter didn’t play along. Instead, she pulled her hand free from Qiqian’er’s grip, stood, and bowed again, saying: “Don’t be offended, Madam! It’s not that I don’t recognize good fortune—but this is the one great matter of my whole life! At the very least I’d like to know something about the man I’d be marrying? My mother and father are so anxious now they’d have me married off tomorrow if they could…”

Before Zhang Wanru finished speaking, Madam Dong jumped up, reaching out to cover her daughter’s mouth—but just then, a loud, clear male voice rang out from the courtyard: “Grandmother! Sister-in-law! I’ve brought the stone slabs! Where should I put them?”

Qiqian’er’s eyes lit up. She pulled Zhang Wanru toward the outer room. Zhang Wanru, startled, stumbled along after this forceful woman toward the door.

At the curtain to the main hall, Qiqian’er didn’t lift the bamboo blind, just pulled it open a crack and beckoned Zhang Wanru to look outside with her.

What they saw made Zhang Wanru gasp and immediately turn back inside.

Qiqian’er peeked out too, and was equally stunned.

In the courtyard, Tong Jintai, bare-chested and muscular, stood carrying a massive slab of bluestone, looking thoroughly confused, waiting for instructions.

Qiqian’er was furious enough to spit fire—she wanted nothing more than to march out and grind her own household fool into paste…

Meanwhile, Tong Jintai, hauling a two-hundred-some-pound stone slab, was thoroughly miserable. He figured his brothers had all lost their minds today—there he was at home, calmly practicing calligraphy, when a bunch of brothers came storming in, stripped him of his clothes, and dressed him in a new pair of trousers. Before he left, the eldest brother had even sprayed a mouthful of water all over his front and back.

Finally, they’d made him haul a stone slab all the way to the old courtyard—what was the meaning of all this?

Tong Jintai sensed vague shapes watching him from inside the room. Feeling exposed and embarrassed, bare-chested, he called out again: “Grandmother? Sister-in-law! Where should I put it?”

Then the little sister-in-law’s irritated voice came from inside: “Never mind it! Take it back!”

So, thoroughly baffled, Tong Jintai hauled the stone slab away.

No one inside the room made a sound, all thoroughly mortified.

After a long while, Qiqian’er finally forced a smile, pointed outside, and said: “Well—see that? Not missing an arm or a leg! And… good looks too, proper and upright, right?”

Madam Dong, already thoroughly won over, nodded rapidly: “Yes, yes, yes! Proper and upright indeed, nothing missing, truly!”

But her daughter still wasn’t convinced, and lifted her head to say to Qiqian’er: “I still don’t understand—if things are as good as you say, why me? Does the Madam know the situation in my family? Do you know why I’m still unmarried at this age…”

Qiqian’er laughed heartily at this and, without letting her finish, took her hand and said: “I know all about you…”

No one could know it better than I do—I know your resilience and generosity, I know how well-read and hardworking you are, you have countless good qualities, but what I admire most is that you refuse to accept fate. You always find a way to make your own life better; no matter how much this world throws at you, you find a way to make yourself comfortable first.

I also know you were twenty-seven when you finally gave in to your parents’ pleading and gave up your Daoist vows to marry that unpromising widower across the street, becoming stepmother to his three children.

I know you’re skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, yet for over a decade you never let it show, for fear of overshadowing your husband, always giving him the best encouragement.

You bore him children and ran that poor household seamlessly, raised the two children born of his first wife as if they were your own—accomplished and upright both.

Yet fate wasn’t kind to you—the moment that brute of a husband finally saw a bit of prosperity, he started running wild with other women… I watched with my own eyes as you set the household in order, then the moment your own daughter married out, you left without hesitation. Zhang Wanru, you were once my half-teacher!

I won’t claim otherwise—among all the fine young women on Quanqian Street and Quanhou Street, there isn’t a single one I, Huo Qiqian, don’t know about. Of all the ones I know, I won’t overlook a single one—I mean to gather them all into my family…

Zhang Wanru looked at Qiqian’er in surprise, repeating her words: “The young mistress knows what about me?”

Madam Dong nearly choked at this, but was surprised to see the young mistress hadn’t gotten angry at all. Instead, she pulled her daughter to sit beside her and said warmly: “We only live a few steps apart—who doesn’t know everything about everyone? I’ve heard plenty of gossip too, but I don’t see it that way, and there isn’t a single person in my household, top to bottom, who believes any of that talk!

The truth is, in this world, fighting and killing isn’t the worst evil—the worst is a wagging tongue spreading lies, and the worst poison is a jealous heart… Let me tell you, they don’t envy you—that’s the only reason they’re too lazy to gossip about you…”

Zhang Wanru’s eyes brightened at this. She looked at Qiqian’er seriously and asked: “Does the young mistress truly believe this?”

Just as Qiqian’er was about to press her advantage, another loud shout came from the courtyard: “Grandmother! Sister-in-law! Where should I put the millstone?”

Qiqian’er sighed helplessly, rubbed her temple, and pointed outside with a look of resignation: “See? It’s not quite as good as you might think either—just a household full of fools. If you’re willing to come, you’ll really be saving me!”

With that, she led Zhang Wanru back to the main hall, pulled open the curtain gap, and pointed at Tong Jintai in the courtyard hauling half a millstone, saying: “That’s him—Tong Jintai, Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guard’s Broadsword Division of the Great Liang. This kind of fool—I’ve got five more just like him at home!”

Having said this, she called out toward the courtyard: “Tong Jintai! Get that useless thing out of here right now, I don’t want it! And tell your brother that if he keeps this up today, every single one of you can just go back to the capital and stay there—never come back! Making trouble is all you’re good for, not one bit of help with the actual matter at hand!”

Thoroughly scolded, Tong Jintai helplessly hauled the half-millstone away.

Zhang Wanru, head down, shook with silent laughter, her shoulders trembling like a sieve.

Qiqian’er, helpless, led her back to the eastern room, where she said to the old lady sitting on the heated platform, her face full of worry: “Grandmother, just say it—between the two of us, who else can we count on?”

The old lady had already figured out what was going on. Hearing this, she said indignantly: “Isn’t that the truth! All these years by the Emperor’s side, and still no progress…” Here, worried Madam Dong might take offense at Tong Jintai, she sat up a little straighter and said, somewhat embarrassed: “Not that he’s bad in every way—at least, well, he’s honest! Very honest!”

Madam Dong was thoroughly pleased and said quickly: “Honest is good! Oh, honest is very good!”

As she spoke, the mother glanced anxiously at her strong-willed daughter, terrified she might say something unwelcome.

Qiqian’er invited Zhang Wanru to sit, personally pouring her a cup of tea, and said: “Our Jintai is twenty-four this year too—may I ask what month Miss Zhang was born?”

Madam Dong, delighted, jumped in eagerly: “Oh! What a perfect match, perfect! Same age even! Wanru is right in the middle of the year, born on the third of the sixth month—may I ask what month your young Master Tong was born?”

The matchmaker, old Madam Xu, sat quietly off to the side, picking at beans, thinking to herself: my, look how anxious this Zhang family matron is, she’d probably charge in herself and drag Master Tong home if she could.

Madam Dong’s heart was so pleased it nearly leapt from her chest.

If her daughter married into the next lane over, it would only be a few steps from her own home!

She’d already peeked through the window earlier—oh, her heart had melted completely, truly a son-in-law you couldn’t find with a lantern in broad daylight, just look at that face, that honest bearing!

Wonderful! This must be the son-in-law Heaven had been preparing for her Wanru all along—no wonder he’d come along so late. The old saying was right—the last meal is always the best meal.

She’d already made up her mind: she’d give up half her dowry savings to secure this son-in-law, she’d give half her life for it if she had to—a son-in-law like this was as good as gaining a real son.

If Zhang Wanru dared to make more trouble today, she’d fight her over it!

With that thought, Madam Dong glared fiercely at her daughter—yet her stubborn, mulish daughter had, surprisingly, gone quiet, head bowed.

Qiqian’er covered her mouth with her handkerchief and laughed. “Our Jintai is actually younger than the young lady—he was born in the eleventh month.”

The old lady was quite taken with Miss Zhang too—anyone who could read and do sums, she liked. If not for the letter from Dingxiang’s family saying they’d already found a match for Choutou and the others, she’d have shamelessly pushed for this match herself.

The old lady said with a smile: “Older is good, older is good—she’ll know how to look after him, how to care for him properly…”

Madam Dong couldn’t help but agree: “That’s so true, so true!”

Her face flushed red as she said it.

The room grew rather awkward. After a good while, Qiqian’er took Zhang Wanru’s hand again and said: “Miss Zhang, I won’t hide it from you—our Jintai suffered great hardship in the past too, and only barely, with much struggle, has he arrived where he is today. I know you must be wondering why we didn’t seek out some new noble family for a better match…”

Miss Zhang looked up, equally puzzled. She thought: exactly—you’re all new nobility now, why would you lack for a good match, why would you come rummaging through us old-dynasty leftovers in the old city for an aging spinster?

Qiqian’er smiled. “Easy to say, isn’t it? But whatever new noble family, whatever high-born lady from whatever great house—could she really carry the weight of daily life if she married into Imperial Guard Lane? That’s a different question entirely!

Living life day to day isn’t like that! It’s not something a little money solves. Take me, for instance—everyone looks at me and thinks I have it good, but who knows the difficulties I face? I hold up seven households alone, no parents-in-law to guide me, no sisters-in-law to help share the load, and outside this lane, my family doesn’t even have relatives to visit.

The men think, well, I’ve earned this much money and given it all to you, so everything’s fine! But that’s not how life works. Living takes real calculation—every step forward, you have to think about where your children and grandchildren’s feet will land. Isn’t that hard enough as it is?

Would any of those high-born ladies, coming to Imperial Guard Lane, really be able to bear the loneliness, the hardship, of holding up an entire household alone?”

Miss Zhang blinked, looking at Qiqian’er with some amusement. “Does the young mistress really think I could carry this life?”

“What are you even saying!” Madam Dong suddenly burst out, then, realizing her outburst, softened into pleading: “There’s still your mother, isn’t there—Wanru, don’t be afraid, your mother’s here for you…”

Seeing her mother like this, Zhang Wanru felt a pang of bitterness in her heart.

Qiqian’er reached out and took her hand. “I believe in you. Last month at the Tang family’s birthday celebration, I saw you go along with your family’s old lady—no matter what people whispered behind your back afterward, you stood perfectly steady, unmoved. It was that steadiness, that composure, that made me choose you. Now, we already have the house, everything inside and out is ready, all we’re waiting for…”

Before poor Qiqian’er could finish, another shout erupted from the courtyard: “Sister-in-law! Where should I put this tree?”

Tong Jintai was ready to lose his mind! Hauling a huge roof beam, he stood in the courtyard utterly bewildered, at this point wishing he could just disappear—he had no idea what madness had gripped his brothers today, tormenting him one after another since morning.

Qiqian’er, at the end of her patience, grabbed the broom off the heated platform and stormed outside.

So the Zhang mother and daughter watched, dumbfounded, as the old lady leaned out the window shouting: “Beat them! Beat those foolish boys good and hard! How can they be so thick-headed day after day…”

That night, Chen Dasheng lay on the heated platform chuckling to himself, then said to Qiqian’er: “I have to say, that Miss Zhang really does suit our Jintai.”

Qiqian’er, ignoring his commentary entirely, turned to him with curiosity: “Chen Dasheng? Are you hiding something from me?”

A flash of surprise crossed Chen Dasheng’s eyes, but he quickly composed himself into an expression of pure sincerity. “Me? Why would you say that, wife?”

Qiqian’er couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Just as she was about to press him further—why exactly had Chen Dasheng decided that if his brothers were to marry, their first choice should be daughters from families in the Ministry of Personnel, the Office of Transmission, the Censorate, and the Hanlin Academy?

But by then, thunderous snoring was already rolling in from beside her on the platform.