Oil sizzled and slid across the griddle, then was swiftly whisked away by chopsticks. A thick batter of melon strips, egg, and flour, scooped up deftly with a small copper ladle, spread across the iron griddle with a sharp sizzling hiss, and the fragrance immediately filled the courtyard.

“Smells good, doesn’t it? How’s it taste? I told you, you capital folk have never had this before, isn’t it good?”

Grandmother Chen sat by a low table in the courtyard, tending a charcoal fire, making melon pancakes with her own hands. She looked up proudly and asked She Qingling, who was eating, whether it was good.

It being hot out, they’d set up the low table under the osmanthus tree in the courtyard, lit the charcoal, and made pancakes to eat there—a bit of rustic fun, all told.

She Qingling chewed slowly, and once he’d swallowed, set down his chopsticks and answered with a smile: “Mother’s skill is superb, of course it tastes wonderful, truly delicious—this pancake, you really can’t find it in the capital.”

Seeing how much he enjoyed it, the old lady was about to say something more, when firecrackers, gongs, and a crowd’s clamor erupted outside.

Today was the sixth of the ninth month—after all his trials, Tong Jintai was finally, at long last, bringing a bride home from the neighboring lane.

Most of the gentlemen of Imperial Guard Lane had no family of their own, so they’d insisted on inviting the one person they truly regarded as family—Uncle She—no matter what.

Uncle She had indeed come, but he was hiding here in the old lady’s courtyard, unwilling to go out, preferring to just listen to the festivities from a distance.

Why was that?

Everyone carries some knot in their heart. The old lady’s knot was tied to Madam Qiao next door, who’d had a son and gotten far too big for her britches. As for She Qingling, his was that he avoided any family’s major life events—weddings, funerals—his whole life, because his own family had never gotten the chance to have any.

So though he’d come, he wouldn’t show his face at the wedding, treating it instead as a quiet outing from the palace to clear his head.

As for why the old Chen family wasn’t attending—hadn’t they just had a major funeral a few months back, burying eight coffins all at once? Even though everyone these days was in mourning for someone or other, even officials’ families, and no one much minded anymore—still, one had to have some self-awareness. Tong Jintai only got married once in his life; the whole family wasn’t about to go crash his celebration.

The wedding outside was handled with great dignity, everyone pitching in to help—the Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guard, Guo Qian, and the Vice Minister of War, Zeng Anbang, stood in as the groom’s family elders, while close friends like Zheng Aman and Liu Daya, among others, all showed up too, running back and forth helping out.

These past months in the capital, Tong Jintai and the others had made no shortage of friends.

The atmosphere in the courtyard was tense. Chen Dasheng kept circling around his wife, but Qiqian’er simply wouldn’t acknowledge him.

These past two months, Qiqian’er hadn’t neglected a single household duty, she just wasn’t speaking to Chen Dasheng. She was convinced he had a guilty conscience, hiding something he shouldn’t be doing from her.

She’d pressed him several times, but he wouldn’t say. The young couple, in full view of everyone, had settled into an open standoff.

Chen Dasheng didn’t want to burden his wife with the unpleasant details, and found himself at a complete loss.

Everyone could see something was wrong between the young couple, but this pair was no ordinary couple—both had a stubborn streak of iron in them, refusing to make up, worrying everyone around them sick.

Holding a handful of small jujubes, Qiqian’er listened to another round of firecrackers before saying: “Grandmother, remember where we all were this time last year? How time flies—Jintai’s getting married already.”

The old lady, skillfully flipping a pancake with a bamboo strip, thought about it and said: “Who could remember? We were rushing along in a panic the whole way, just thinking about food, never imagining we’d have such good days now. Go look at the fields out there—with this year’s harvest, our Great Liang is truly stable! Ah, such favorable weather…”

With that, she raised the bamboo strip and rapped Chen Dasheng’s outstretched hand: “This one’s for your father, you brat, wait your turn!” Then she said to Uncle She with great affection: “Son, eat slowly, it’s all for you—okay?”

Uncle She beamed, smiling with easy contentment.

This visit, he’d come to formalize things with the old lady—he’d rehearsed all sorts of things to say along the way, even thinking, since the old lady loved money so much, if it came to it, he’d offer a generous sum and negotiate patiently with her… but who could have guessed, the old lady heard him out and happily agreed on the spot. He hadn’t meant to find himself a mother, yet the old lady had simply appointed herself his adoptive mother.

Even after Uncle She made clear he was a eunuch, the old lady had simply said: even missing an arm or a leg, he was still a living son.

One person lonely, one person adrift—when fate wants to bring two people together, nothing can stop it.

She Qingling had always been good-looking, with naturally soft, endearing features. If he wanted to win someone over, not even the former dynasty’s Emperor You had escaped his charm—let alone a country old lady.

Within half a day, the old lady had brought out the brand-new griddle just cast for the household, insisting on making her adopted son the hometown-style melon pancakes right there in the courtyard.

By now, it was as if no one else existed for her—only after She Qingling had eaten his fill would she allow her beloved grandson to touch the food, with Qiqian’er coming in dead last.

She Qingling accepted the tea Qiqian’er offered him to cut the grease, looked up at his young daughter-in-law with a smile, but Qiqian’er deliberately turned her head away.

Master She had a good appetite today, and after finishing his tea, picked up a fifth pancake to eat. Watching him eat so much, Chen Dasheng, worried it might be hard on his stomach, muttered fussily: “Father, we’ve let you go first every time—why don’t we rest a bit? Take a stroll around the courtyard?”

The pancakes weren’t large, but they were genuinely delicious. Master She patted his stomach and nodded, deciding to finish this one before going for a walk.

When Grandmother Chen decided to spoil someone, she spoiled them thoroughly. Her own sons were all gone; Chen the Fourth might as well be dead for all the good he did. Now that she’d finally, with effort, gained this substitute son, any good food in her hands went straight to She Qingling’s mouth.

And ever since he’d sent her padded quilts and cotton socks, whenever it rained hard in the capital, he’d send someone to check on her—was the old lady cold? Remember to dress warmly. Eating well? It’s rainy, the roads are slippery, maybe skip the temple trip for a few days?

The old lady thoroughly enjoyed this kind of attention. With all four of her own sons gone, the smallest kindness from anyone else made her heart ache with fondness.

As for what a eunuch was, or that his own sister had once been sent to the Bureau of Music—none of that mattered to the old lady. In her view, simply surviving this war alive was hard enough. What in this world was harder than staying alive?

When you had good fortune, you cherished it, lived gratefully, chanted Amitabha together, thanked every god and buddha in this world.

Having finally gained a “son” who called her mother, all the old lady’s old wounds seemed to surface at once.

But the hardest part was, both of them knew perfectly well the other was pretending—yet they smiled and played along anyway, each pretending the other was truly their mother, truly their son.

“Sheng’er’s father, let me tell you, last time I went to the Guanyin Temple, I prayed to Guanyin to watch over you, really! I went to the Daoist temple too, told the Old Lord the same thing, told the Grandmother Temple too, every time I say it—look, don’t you think your color’s better than last time you came? That’s clearly divine protection at work, you’ve surely been blessed!”

Master She smiled at this, looking up with genuine gratitude: “Is that so? So that’s the reason! I did notice—these past few months, I’ve been sleeping straight through the night. You wouldn’t believe it, since the new year everything’s just been going my way, so that’s where it came from!”

The old lady was thoroughly satisfied, slapping her thigh: “Of course it’s true! I’m telling you, of the twenty-some old temples and shrines around here, Qingque Nunnery is the most efficacious. Every time I go, I chat with the Bodhisattva a bit, asking her to bless you with smooth fortune in everything…”

Before she finished, another wave of noise came from outside. The old lady looked up, envious: “Oh, sounds like the new bride’s arriving home!” She shot Chen Dasheng a look. “Once you two finally consummate your marriage in two years, we’ll do all this for you too.”

Chen Dasheng nodded eagerly, but Qiqian’er wouldn’t even look at him, instead glancing up at the sky and saying: “Mm, right about this time. That Zhang family didn’t waste any time either, sending the bride out right on schedule.”

The old lady shot her a look. “She’s already twenty-four, how could they afford to delay any further? Our Jintai, with his looks and standing, is more than a match for her. The other day Old Madam Tao was going on and on about how her own girl would suit, a few years younger too—I just scoffed at her! It’s not that I look down on people, but I’ll tell you all straight, no matter whose daughter it is, it can’t be hers. I saw right through her long ago, so I don’t think much of that family at all.

Not to boast, but Wanru might be twenty-four, but just look at Madam Dong’s character—capable both inside and outside the household, a genuinely virtuous woman. Look at the mother, you know the daughter. Now compare that to Old Madam Tao, that scheming old thing—I’m not exaggerating, if Jintai had married her daughter, within three years there wouldn’t be a single hair of the household’s fortune left for the children. Marry her daughter? She can dream…”

Old Madam Tao had lately been nearly frantic trying to marry her daughter into Imperial Guard Lane, practically ready to kowtow herself silly in front of the old lady. Unfortunately, she had no idea the old lady had already seen straight through her.

She Qingling smiled along, pretending to understand, though he had no idea who this Old Madam Tao even was. He stood, holding his stomach, and the attendants nearby quickly helped him into his shoes and supported him for a stroll around the courtyard.

After his walk, he said to the old lady: “Mother, this courtyard of yours is a bit small. Why don’t I bring you to my place in the capital tomorrow for a few days? I have a garden there, the scenery’s quite nice.”

Hearing this, the old lady suddenly remembered something, pointed her bamboo strip at Qiqian’er, and said bitterly: “Not going! Why would I go there, to ruin the family fortune? Last time, this little troublemaker went and threw away a thousand taels in one go! If I go, won’t she just follow along? I dare not go… not going, not going!”

Qiqian’er, utterly shameless about it, threw her head back and laughed heartily, then said to the old lady: “I didn’t spend your grandson’s money! All day long, nagging only at me—you’re so stingy, going on about this for months now?”

Every time the old lady thought of it, her heart still ached with fury—she’d never forgive it, absolutely not. She scooped up a pancake with the bamboo strip and passed it to Chen Dasheng—

Plop! The pancake landed neatly on the plate in front of him. She gestured for him to eat it while it was hot.

Having gestured that, she turned back to scolding: “Even if I die, I’ll never forget this—a thousand taels of silver, and you dared spend it! However it happened, isn’t it still my hard-earned money? How did it become two separate families’ business?”

Chen Dasheng, eager to please, held the plate up and offered it to his wife. Qiqian’er took the plate and ate the pancake right there in front of the old lady, still refusing to acknowledge her grandson-in-law.

After finishing, she still had the nerve to snap back at the old lady: “You’re just playing favorites! How long has this troublemaker even served you? Keep playing favorites and see if I don’t send you off up the mountain the day your grandson leaves—I’ll dig a hole and toss you right in, then see if you regret it!”

She Qingling watched this uniquely Great Liang-style argument, dumbfounded—though it looked like bickering, every word carried an intimacy no outsider could ever share in.

The old lady, emboldened by having backup today, raised her bamboo strip at Qiqian’er, ready to complain to Chen Dasheng—when another burst of commotion came from outside…

The commotion grew closer, and suddenly grain and beans, along with a scattering of copper coins, came flying over the wall.

This was the scattering of grain and beans, meant to ward off the evil spirit believed to accompany a new bride. It seemed Tong Jintai, knowing his family couldn’t come out, had asked the geomancer to toss it over the wall on his behalf.

The old lady was delighted at the sight, immediately dropping her bamboo strip to go gather it up, when she heard Tong Jintai shouting from outside the wall: “Grandmother! Master! Big Brother! Little Sister-in-law! I’m out here with my wife, kowtowing to you all!”

Outside grew quiet, and the courtyard fell silent too. A moment later, Old Madam Xu’s voice rang out from outside: “Oh dear, child, why hit your head so hard? Ah, your forehead’s split open, get up now… your grandmother and sister-in-law don’t need this from you, just live a good life from now on, and be good to your grandmother later…”

Laughter erupted outside, and the crowd swept the couple away.

The old lady stood there a while, then finally turned with a smile. “Wonderful, wonderful—Jintai will have a baby in his arms by next year…” Then, pointing at Qiqian’er, she added: “Too bad these two troublemakers still have two more years to wait—ah, well, let me go inside and find you two some pouches, one for each of your waists, for good luck money…”

With that, she hurried inside. Chen Dasheng looked at Qiqian’er, who rolled her eyes at him again.

Helpless, Chen Dasheng could only follow her inside. The old lady’s heart ached again—their three cousins had all gotten engaged out in the provinces, and though the weddings hadn’t happened yet, the matches were set.

It wasn’t that they weren’t filial—they’d wanted to bring the old lady out to live with them too, but their posting was too far away, and the old lady had traveled enough for one lifetime; she’d said she wouldn’t move another step from here, not even in death.

Once the grandmother and her adopted son had gone inside, Qiqian’er sat down by the griddle and, flipping a pancake with the bamboo strip, said to Master She, who’d come over: “Actually, even if you hadn’t come today, I meant to come see you in the capital.”

Master She nodded at this, sitting down by the low table and gazing at the charcoal fire. “You two are upset over them arranging marriages with families from the six ministries?”

Qiqian’er pursed her lips, flipped the pancake, and nodded to confirm it to Uncle She.

She’d done so much, and Chen Dasheng shouldn’t have kept it from her.

She Qingling looked into the room, where the window lattice quietly opened, and Chen Dasheng and the old lady peeked out anxiously, both looking toward Qiqian’er.

Meeting her adopted son’s eyes, the old lady pointed first at Chen Dasheng’s head, then at Qiqian’er, signaling him to smooth things over so the young couple would stop fighting.

Master She wanted to laugh but held it back. He cleared his throat, looked seriously at the pancake griddle, and nodded. “I think Sheng’er realized the various factions in the capital had no way in, so he came up with this plan on his own. Hmm… it does show some thought, not bad at all… he’s grown, this one.”

Qiqian’er looked at him, startled. “Wasn’t this your arrangement, Father?”

Master She shook his head. “Of course not! If it had been me arranging it…” He thought for a moment, seeming to land on something, and laughed. “If it were me, for his future prospects, I’d have chosen someone far superior to you in every way—not to mention ability, just birth alone. My Sheng’er’s idea was cunning, quite beyond what I expected. Why? Are you afraid I’d interfere and pick some noble, virtuous wife for him instead?”

Qiqian’er’s face flushed red at once, and after a long moment she said: “I’m not afraid of anything! I’m just angry he wouldn’t tell me no matter how much I asked.”

She Qingling looked puzzled at this, his smooth young face full of confusion. “This old man has never understood matters of love and affection in this life. If that’s the case, then he was wrong! Next time I’ll scold him for it, and you won’t be angry with him anymore, alright?”

Qiqian’er nodded, then shook her head. “I… I don’t even know how to explain it properly. At first I really didn’t think much of it, and I did my best to arrange things according to what he asked. But looking back, the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. I asked him why—why specifically former dynasty officials, why specifically people connected to the Censorate? I couldn’t settle my mind. I worried, given how humble our beginnings are, that he might stir up trouble the family couldn’t cover for.”

Eavesdropping at the window, Chen Dasheng’s expression finally shifted to realization—he reached up and silently smacked himself, and the old lady immediately smacked him too.

Master She let out a slow breath. “You’re overthinking this. Trouble isn’t likely—though they do have some small schemes of their own, that much is true. A man with schemes isn’t entirely open and forthright, so no wonder he didn’t dare tell you, probably out of embarrassment. You don’t see the front of the house from back here—the court politics out there are tangled beyond belief…

Right now, though Sheng’er and the others have the Emperor’s favor, they came to his side rather late. Our new dynasty has just been established, the general amnesties and enfeoffments are already done, and the Emperor’s circle is already thick with tangled relationships. Rather than go in and become someone else’s blade, better to slowly gather strength from below, cultivate it carefully, help each other, and secure a foothold in the capital. Otherwise… even with me, even with the Emperor’s backing, we’ll both grow old, and die eventually…”

Qiqian’er’s hand, gripping the bamboo strip, finally relaxed.

Master She seemed to recall something and chuckled softly, then said to Qiqian’er: “Sheng’er has real talent, though he came to his senses a bit late, he’s bound to rise swiftly and far. That he could think up a plan like this already shows real progress—how many days has he even been studying with me?” He wasn’t hiding anything from you out of malice… he just didn’t want to burden you, hoping if there were trouble, he could shoulder it alone.”

Qiqian’er exhaled slowly. Of course she knew Chen Dasheng was clever—An’er’s sharpness clearly came from his father.

But Chen Dasheng’s transformation had come too fast for her to keep up with, and it unsettled her.

To be honest, she’d just been looking for an excuse to pick a fight with him, to test where they stood with each other.

But it turned out he’d been afraid of her seeing the ugliness of officialdom, afraid that if trouble came, he’d rather bear it alone—this block of wood! Truly, across two lifetimes, he still couldn’t manage a single gentle word, doing everything the hard, blunt way that left people frustrated.

Qiqian’er, exasperated, said pointedly: “Is it wrong to do things honestly and uprightly?”

She Qingling laughed at this. Curious about the griddle, he reached out to try his hand at it too.

Qiqian’er handed him the bamboo strip and pulled up a stool to sit beside him.

Having successfully flipped a pancake, Uncle She said with a smile: “Who said that wasn’t upright? How many of the clean, honest officials from history do you actually know, little one?”

Qiqian’er thought about it and said: “Not many, honestly—just Sun Shu’ao, Ximen Bao, a few like that.”

Master She nodded approvingly. “Well, you’ve read a few history books at least.”

Qiqian’er flushed at once—whatever scraps of learning she had, she certainly didn’t dare show off in front of this man.

She Qingling always had extra patience for the people around his adopted son, and slowly explained to Qiqian’er: “The clean officials you know of are rare figures from thousands of years of history. Take Sun Shu’ao, for instance—he rose to Prime Minister, one man beneath the throne and above ten thousand, yet his career was full of ups and downs, rising and falling three times over. His character was noble, his whole life spent in honest poverty—when he died, his family couldn’t even afford a coffin. That’s why later generations honor him as the foremost of clean officials.”

Qiqian’er nodded. “Yes, that’s how the history books tell it.”

Uncle She laughed softly. “But we officials look at things differently than you do. Setting aside his integrity, do you know what policies Sun Shu’ao pushed through during his time in office?”

Qiqian’er blinked, then shook her head—no point showing off her book-learning in front of this man.

Uncle She tapped the griddle with his bamboo strip. “During his tenure, Sun Shu’ao championed governing for the people’s benefit, lenient punishments, ending warfare, promoting both farming and trade—and he achieved real success in water conservancy too, leaving benefits for the common people that lasted generations.

But we later generations, if we only read books and never actually govern, we can’t understand how difficult his position truly was. Lenient punishment threatens the dignity of the political system; ending warfare cuts into the interests of the military. During his tenure, his frequent dealings with the Ministries of Revenue and Works over currency and water conservancy led to his rocky, three-times-fallen career…”

Perhaps having genuinely eaten his fill, Uncle She stood, holding his stomach, and strolled around the courtyard, treating Qiqian’er like a son he was instructing. “Governing isn’t like that. You’ve watched too many operas—those clean officials, famous ministers, heroes, villains, treacherous officials, corrupt clerks—all of that is later generations’ judgment.

Do you know how many of those pragmatic, worldly officials started out with hearts full of passion, full of ideals to benefit the people? Whether or not they ever reach the highest honors, every official has to climb from the very bottom, one step at a time. It’s only after enough despair that most of them slowly change. Who doesn’t want to leave a name for a hundred generations? Who doesn’t want the emperor’s favor? Governing is a mysterious business—no matter what conclusions later generations draw, I think judging an official from an official’s own perspective is the most accurate way.

To judge an official properly, you have to look at everything—heaven, earth, the people—and analyze the measures he took during his time governing a place. You should know, even the sages ranked heaven, earth, sovereign, parents, and teachers before the common people—not even sixth place for the people. That shows just how bitter, how sorrowful, how hard the people’s lot truly is! Even a clean official, no matter how hard he tries, often finds himself helpless in the end. After all, what pleases the sovereign may not please the common people, and what pleases the common people may not please the court officials…”

Uncle She paused here, glancing over to check Qiqian’er’s expression, and seeing she wasn’t confused but thoughtful, nodded with satisfaction and continued:

“Take Sun Shu’ao again, this clean official—the Liezi’s Shi Guan Niang Zi – Chapter on Speech and Meaning records that in ancient times, Elder Huqiu said: high rank invites envy, great office invites the sovereign’s suspicion, generous salary invites resentment. Rank, power, salary—these are things no official can escape, not even Sun Shu’ao himself could deny it.

Yet through his three risings and three falls, he still managed to accomplish everything he set out to do. So let me ask you—beyond his own ability, what else did he need to achieve his goals? And relying solely on the sovereign’s trust and favor is far from enough… In truth, the relationship between a sovereign and his ministers is often one of cooperation. If they turn against each other in mutual suspicion and constraint—hmph! Then the dynasty itself is in danger…”

Qiqian’er stood still, thinking for a long while. Her whole previous life had been confined entirely to Quanhou Street—asked to consider such deep matters now, she genuinely couldn’t work it out.

This, however, came as no surprise to Master She.

He sat back down at the low table, closed his eyes, listening to the commotion outside, until it seemed the crowd had entered the courtyard, then opened his eyes and picked up his tea, just as Qiqian’er slowly approached, and with great seriousness bowed to him properly, saying: “Father! I truly can’t work it out. Please teach me.”

The nerve of this girl was really something!

She Qingling spat out a mouthful of tea, covering his forehead as he burst out laughing. He thought, Sheng’er was strange enough already, but the wife he’d married was even harder to figure out.

He’d always found this young daughter-in-law a bit odd, as though she looked down on everyone—though all her current glory came from his own Sheng’er, she still carried herself with such confidence, as if she genuinely believed she had the ability to command all this herself. Even Master She could see it: this young wife would do just fine on her own no matter where she went, she had real substance, and that gave her this certain pride.

And now, add one more thing to the list—she was also shameless enough to flip loyalties on a dime.

He had, in fact, once looked into the Huo family’s past, and simply couldn’t fathom what environment could have produced a person like this.

In the end, blood being thicker than water, and for his Sheng’er’s sake, he hadn’t dug any deeper.

He’d arrived that morning, and everything had already been made clear—Chen Dasheng called him “Father” without hesitation, the old lady bustled about calling him “son” just as readily, yet this brazen girl had acted as if she hadn’t heard a word of it. And now, look at her—come around and calling him “Father” after all.

Master She, having finished laughing, pointed at Qiqian’er and said: “My Sheng’er has just come into his own—you mustn’t bully him going forward. As for you, you still need to read more and build a stronger foundation—don’t just bury your nose in books, learn to think more flexibly.”

Qiqian’er flushed red again, and in the end personally poured a cup of tea, kneeling and holding it high above her head as she said earnestly: “Understood, Father! Please, have some tea!”

Inside, the grandmother and grandson pair, still peeking through the window lattice, watched Qiqian’er kneel, exchanged glances, and both let out a slow breath.

The old lady, still irritated, rapped Chen Dasheng on the head again, thinking, can’t this fool just talk things through properly? Serves him right for hiding things—nearly drove her good grandson-in-law’s wife to hold a grudge over it.

Now, at last, the storm had passed, and the family was reconciled once more.

She Qingling drank his tea earnestly, then pulled a small embroidered pouch from his sleeve, already prepared in advance, and placed it in Qiqian’er’s hand, saying: “Qian’er, you’re every bit as gifted as Sheng’er, yet your temper is too unyielding, too stubborn to compromise. If this continues, it won’t just wear on others—it’ll wear you down too. From now on, you must learn to be gentler with yourself, don’t always shoulder everything alone. You see, now you have us.”

His adopted father’s words struck deep, and Qiqian’er stood, wiping away a tear, saying: “Yes, I understand, Father. I’ll change.”

She Qingling smiled. “Everyone only gets one life. If you can make things easier on yourself, don’t force yourself to suffer needlessly. Sun Shu’ao died at only thirty-eight, out in a foreign post—surely the weight on his heart was too heavy. An ordinary matter of governance, handled by him, would have been a hundred times harder than for anyone else…” He exhaled softly and continued: “Take my own grandfather and father—men of iron will, who’d rather stand alone than compromise their principles. But what did my mother do to deserve it? What did my whole clan do to deserve it?

If, back then, there had been more allies who shared their convictions, more voices willing to stand up and speak for them, even the sovereign wouldn’t have dared mistreat them. I think Sheng’er, in actively building up his own strength now, must have something specific he means to accomplish. That’s why he came up with a plan like this—it’s only made you upset, and perhaps even feel he was cold toward you, but can you really resent him for keeping it from you?”

Qiqian’er looked at her adopted father and thought of the tragedy that had befallen his whole family, and felt a pang in her own heart. He truly had come to think of Chen Dasheng as his own son—perhaps even worrying that one day, when he himself grew old, and the Emperor who favored Lao Dao was gone too, and the world settled into peace, men of martial background without deep roots like Chen Dasheng and the others might find themselves in a precarious position.

Sensing her mood, she turned to look toward the room, and saw Chen Dasheng leaning eagerly against the window lattice, watching her. Seeing her turn, he immediately flashed a bright, silly grin.

Qiqian’er rolled her eyes at him again, then turned back to her adopted father. “I have my faults too. He’s not entirely blameless either.”

She Qingling said: “Children’s talk! It’s not that I favor my own son, but truly, a good married couple shouldn’t need to waste so many words explaining things to each other over every little matter. A single glance should be enough to know what the other is thinking. You two! Still too caught up in your own limits—you should break free of that sooner rather than later.”

Seeing Qiqian’er lower her head, not daring to meet his eyes, She Qingling smiled and continued: “And don’t worry too much about the others either. People having a few small schemes is only natural. It’s not that I’m praising them excessively, but none of them are any worse than this fool of mine!

Now that the Emperor favors them and their foundation is this solid, they haven’t lowered themselves by currying favor with the powerful and wealthy—that alone is rare enough. You should understand, these seven have long since become different from ordinary people—they’ve seen death, seen the ugliest faces of this world.

When a mother eagle brings food to the nest, of the whole brood, only the strongest chick manages to snatch the most and eat its fill—that’s the cruel nature at the root of this world. He didn’t want to show you that cruelty, yet you got angry with him instead. Don’t you think my son’s been wronged?”

Qiqian’er, chastened, lowered her head and said nothing.

Seeing this, She Qingling looked over to the window, where the old lady gave him a thumbs up, praising him sincerely and wholeheartedly.

Once she’d finished her praise, she climbed down from the platform and hurried into the courtyard, tying a lucky money pouch around each of their waists, scolding as she did: “You two troublemakers, struck by lightning the both of you! So full of cleverness, and not a bit of it turned toward yourselves! Have you both turned into blockheads? Don’t let this happen again, understand?”

Qiqian’er tried to pull her hand back, but Chen Dasheng grabbed it and pulled her along, running.

The two troublemakers climbed up the ladder by the side room and onto the roof of the wing. Then Chen Dasheng pointed at the sea of red in the lane below and said: “Don’t be upset anymore! Give it two more years, and we’ll turn this lane red again, just like you want—we’ll have a son, and we’ll name him An’er, how does that sound?”

Seeing his wife’s cheeks flush and nod, he grinned and scratched the back of his head. “Heh—wife, I need to tell you something else, don’t get mad, okay? A few months back I went out with Zheng Aman and the others, and… I sort of, accidentally won some money gambling… I’ll bring it all back to you tomorrow, won’t give any of it to Grandmother…”

Before he could finish, a powerful shove sent him tumbling right off the roof.