On the fifteenth of the first month, when all under heaven celebrated together, the servants of the Zheng family knelt outside the side rooms of the Chen residence. This crowd had arrived the night before, kneeling and begging for someone to come to the Duke of Zheng’s estate — seeing that the person would not go, they refused to rise…

Later the crowd grew larger and larger, and by around dawn, people were already kneeling all the way into the alley. The old madam at the old house learned of it too, and hastily threw on her clothes without even combing her hair, tying up a cloth wrap and having herself carried over to accompany her godson.

The sky was just beginning to lighten. As the incense stick on the lacquered Buddha’s-hand flower stand slowly burned down to its last ash, She Qingling finally set down the sutra in his hands — he wanted to read another and reached out for one.

The old madam, who had been silent all along, finally couldn’t hold back and said, “Son, I think this is meant to prop you up.”

She Qingling’s hand paused on the sutra. His expression wasn’t particularly angry — he was long used to this sort of thing.

Matters like this, he encountered several times a year without fail — either the old madam on that side was dying, or the old master was dying. Inside the palace he could still avoid it, since there was the Emperor above him. But now… this was outside the palace.

This family was putting on a show for the whole world to see.

He didn’t know who had let slip the news that he was here.

She Qingling picked up a stick of agarwood, lit it on the candle, and asked the old madam with a smile, “You’ve seen through it too?”

The old madam’s hand, turning her prayer beads, paused. She nodded. “Mm, how could I not see it? I’m your mother, not a fool. It’s not so different in the countryside as in the city. Back where I came from, something like this happened before too — a daughter died in childbirth, and her natal family tried to reclaim the dowry land. Later, the grandson’s relatives said, at least there’s still a little grandson, don’t be so heartless about it. But that family said plainly, ‘I don’t even have my own eyeballs left, what use do I have for eyelids?’ No one could say anything more after that.

“They probably never thought that little grandson would grow up one day, did they? Later that nephew made something of himself, passed the county exam, and married into a wealthy family. Then his mother’s family regretted it, and sent many people to try to smooth things over. This sort of thing isn’t rare at all — they’re just propping you up, wanting you to show your face, so they’ll have something to say to others from now on.”

How could She Qingling not understand this reasoning? He slowly inserted a fresh stick of incense and asked his godmother earnestly, “Then what does godmother think I should do?”

What should I do?

She Qingling was a master at political maneuvering, but when it came to family matters, he was helpless — all he could do was stiffly avoid them.

The old madam didn’t quite understand how wealthy households handled family affairs, but she had experience nonetheless, and after thinking it over she said, “Well, people’s hearts aren’t always good, that’s the thing — everyone thinks from their own position. If that grandson had stayed poor, his mother’s family would be at ease. But he had to go and succeed instead…”

Having said this, the old madam looked scornfully out at the courtyard and gave a silent, contemptuous spit.

She Qingling suppressed a laugh, pulled a bolster from the pile beside him, and placed it behind the old madam’s back to comfort her. “Mother, this is nothing much for me. Why don’t you go back and rest? By the time you wake up, this’ll probably have blown over. I’m used to it by now.”

But the old madam refused his kindness, not leaning back, instead straightening up and saying, “Blown over? Nothing ever blows over! Those wealthy households have too many scheming minds, filthy as anything! So many eyes, so many mouths — turn around and you couldn’t explain yourself even with eight mouths. This is putting you over the fire to roast. Humph! Either you’re the one in the wrong hung out to dry, or that family is — if you ask me…

“Son, if you don’t feel right about it in your heart, then don’t go! It’s just that, in name, that side is still an elder — in the past, whatever you did, no one dared say anything. But now, speaking of it publicly, there’s a human life tangled up in this. They want you to go see them alone, so that afterward, if they start spreading nonsense, you won’t have a witness. Understand? Right now that family is just holding onto this breath to find a way down the steps for themselves. If you don’t want to give them that step down…”

The old madam reached out and pointed at Chen Dasheng, who was dozing leaning against the edge of the large kang. “Don’t you have a son! He may not amount to much, but that wife of his is a hundred times sharper than him. Don’t laugh — I’m not praising your wife, it’s just, that little head of hers… heh heh, just watch, this hasn’t provoked her yet…

“Besides, you just say you’re too grieved, too shaken — in any case we can’t get off the kang, so we can only let the younger generation go pay respects on our behalf. Then afterward, let people say whatever they want, no one can fault our family’s manners, can they?”

Having finished, the old madam pointed outside again and winked at her godson.

She Qingling thought it over, and in the end nodded in agreement, smiling. “Godmother is right. Well, let’s do it that way.”

He was truly fed up with it all.

“Good, I’ll call someone to wake Qian儿 up.” Seeing him willing, the old madam grew pleased. “You — you’re in your own home now, what are you still shy about? Making your daughter-in-law avoid this — with people kneeling in rows both inside and out, can she even avoid it?”

On the night of the fourteenth of the first month, the head steward of the Duke of Zheng’s estate had come to the house, absolutely insisting on seeing She Qingling, saying that the old patriarch of the family was dying.

She Qingling naturally had no wish to see him, and the other side sent people over in wave after wave to beg for an audience — until finally even Zheng Aman himself came…

Now the whole of Quanhou Street knew: the old patriarch of the Duke of Zheng’s household was dying, and before drawing his last breath, he insisted on seeing his grandson-in-law one more time, or else he would not be able to close his eyes in death.

The tangled grievances between the Zheng household and She Qingling were many, but the one most condemned by the world was the matter of the maternal family driving their own granddaughter to her death. Because of this, the Emperor had flown into a rage, and had not conferred the title of Duke of Zheng on the man who was, in name, his father-in-law — instead granting the title to his own maternal uncle, Zheng Xingyun.

To this day, no one knew for certain whose idea it had been within the Zheng family to drive the granddaughter to her death that year. Some said it was Zheng Xingyun’s doing, some said it was that old madam’s doing, but most said it was the old patriarch’s doing.

The old patriarch of the Zheng family admitted to it himself. He alone shouldered the blame. Ever since She Qingling had entered the palace to become Chief Eunuch, the old patriarch had converted a courtyard in his own household into a Daoist temple and shut himself away to cultivate, never stepping outside again.

Not quite two years had passed, and the Zheng family had finally come to understand something — being a renowned minister and being a family of imperial in-laws were simply different things. As in-laws to the throne, they needed to expand their connections and unite through marriage alliances to preserve their wealth and status. While Empress Dowager Zheng still lived it was one thing, but she too was getting on in years now — how many more days could she shelter the Zheng family?

And so, shamelessly, they were determined to draw close once more to the one called the Hidden Chancellor, She Qingling, and mend the family ties.

The Zheng family had come begging with such brazen persistence, but they never expected that the noble and dignified She Qingling would counter with such a shameless move of his own — he sent his adopted son and his daughter-in-law to the Zheng household in his place…

As the two of them boarded the Zheng family’s carriage, Zheng Aman looked at the plainly-dressed Chen Dasheng and his wife with a strange expression on his face. Rather startled, he asked, “You’re — you’re really going?”

Hearing this, Chen Dasheng laughed in exasperation. “Ah! Of course we’re going! Your household’s ancestor is on the verge of dying — how could we not go? There’s a whole alley full of people kneeling already…”

Qiqian’er lazily covered her mouth with her sleeve and gave a small yawn — not that she was sleepy in body, but weary in spirit.

The Duke of Zheng’s household kept sending people over in waves, one after another, so much so that all of Quanhou Street was filled with onlookers watching the spectacle.

She cared a great deal about face, and she was holding back a bellyful of resentment.

Chen Dasheng felt somewhat guilty, and hurried to set up the folding travel table, lit the charcoal, and lifted the small copper kettle to boil tea for his wife. His hands were busy, and his mouth kept coaxing her: “Aiyo, aiyo! My wife has suffered so.”

Qiqian’er pursed her lips, holding back another yawn, and with tears at the corners of her eyes, looked across at Zheng Aman and said, “I’m not the tired one — it’s the young marquis I feel for.”

Zheng Aman had spent the entire first month exhausted. Watching Chen Dasheng set out the cups, he pleaded, “Brother Feilian, brew me a cup of strong tea too.” As he said this, his eyes and brows, always full of charm on ordinary days, narrowed completely shut.

Chen Dasheng understood his difficulty and took out another cup, saying, “Aman? Did they give you trouble at home again?”

Zheng Aman nodded without opening his eyes. “Well — not exactly trouble, you know how it is with me. I didn’t even want to come, but I was afraid they’d keep repeating those tiresome things over and over. Unlike when I’m outside, where if I can’t stand something I can just leave — here I can’t. That’s my mother. Forget it!”

He didn’t want to speak ill of his elders, so he only said half a sentence, then shut his eyes completely, his heart aching as if pinched, the words going round and round in his ears again and again — words that left a bad taste.

“I know you resent us in your heart…”

“I know you can never let go of what happened before…”

“Why bring this up again, it’s all in the past, no point mentioning it again…”

“Aren’t you doing just fine now?”

“If we hadn’t swallowed our pain and given you up back then, where would you have gotten the Emperor’s favor? A person can’t be so ungrateful!”

“We’re all one family — when the elders did what they did back then, it was for your own good… who could have foreseen how hard it would become…”

Perhaps from the wrong in his heart, tears began to well at the corners of his narrow eyes. But just as the tears began to spill, his hand was suddenly caught by someone.

Chen Dasheng pressed the warm teacup into Zheng Aman’s hands and said, “Hey, hey, none of that! Today’s the fifteenth, you can’t cry today — cry now and you’ll suffer for a whole year.”

This child really was good-natured. Every time, it was the Zheng family pushing him to come forward, and yet whenever he came into the palace, or even just arrived at the house, he never said an unnecessary word that would put anyone in an awkward position. He’d simply arrive, and stand silently off to one side.

How cold it had been yesterday — deep winter, and this child had stood outside all night, too embarrassed to trouble anyone, wrapping himself in his cloak and hiding in a spot sheltered from the wind.

Qiqian’er thought this child was good-looking, and his suppressed distress written across his face made him all the more pitiable. With her soft heart, she’d always had a bit more tolerance for good-looking children.

And so she comforted him, “Listen, just bear with it a while longer. Elders have their difficulties, and the younger generation has its own hardships too. Once we split the household later on, it’ll be better.”

Hearing this, Zheng Aman looked at Qiqian’er gratefully and said with a bitter smile, “Sister-in-law doesn’t know how things are in my family — it’s very difficult. Not to mention there are several branches of brothers in the family — even if the household splits, it would go to the side branches first. Even if it really did split… it wouldn’t reach me for a long while.” He sighed again. “No matter who leaves, I can’t leave.”

Chen Dasheng was a straightforward man, and he couldn’t bear to watch the once bright and easy-going Aman slowly become like this. So he set his teapot down heavily and said, “You’re a fool too. Tomorrow go and beg His Majesty — just say you want to earn some merit for yourself. His Majesty will surely be pleased to see you making progress.

“From what I’ve seen, those few who’ve been accompanying the imperial princes in their studies lately keep causing trouble every few days — His Majesty’s been letting it slide because it’s the New Year, but sooner or later he’ll come after them for it. You should go ahead and find little Hua first — if His Majesty wants to use you, who would dare stop him? They can’t very well bully you across ten thousand miles…”

Hearing this, Zheng Aman laughed despite himself. “Brother Feilian, what are you saying — this isn’t bullying.”

It’s just being stifled, that’s all.

Chen Dasheng said to him seriously, “It is bullying. I’m telling you, even if you retreat all the way into the river it won’t help — some people just love to pick on the obedient ones…”

In front of Qiqian’er, Chen Dasheng had always been a bit dim and lacking in opinions of his own. When had he learned to counsel people like this?

Qiqian’er found it amusing and couldn’t help but smile — thinking to herself that this simpleton had finally grown up after all.

Chen Dasheng, just getting into the swing of his coaxing, felt his ears itch and turned, puzzled, to look at Qiqian’er. Not understanding her expression, he asked, “Wife, why are you looking at me like that?”

Qiqian’er laughed. “What you’re teaching him isn’t wrong, but it’s too late to say all this now — that old man on the other side is on the verge of dying, and once the mourning period starts, that’s another three years. His father is Minister of Rites, so the mourning rites will need to be even more elaborate — how could he possibly get away then… What, why are you two making such faces?”

She suddenly noticed that Chen Dasheng and Zheng Aman’s expressions were growing stranger and stranger.

Zheng Aman took a long breath, finally gave a bitter smile, lowered his head to finish his tea, then reached up with his sleeve to wipe the moisture from his lips. “I won’t hide it from you, sister-in-law — I have a feeling… my old patriarch… might just live another ten thousand years…”

The moment Zheng Aman finished saying this, he turned his head away. A moment later, he heard someone beside him start to snicker, and the laughter grew louder and louder.

Chen Dasheng didn’t want to laugh at someone’s elder in front of Zheng Aman, so he held it in, and only spoke once Qiqian’er had finished laughing. “Wife, you don’t know — just last year alone, that old madam over there broke her arm twice, and fell down more times than can be counted. Whenever our father had a bit of free time, they’d be sure to invite the imperial physician over to check on her. As for the old patriarch waiting to breathe his last — counting today, this makes the fourth time. In the past, when godfather didn’t go out, he just didn’t go, and they didn’t dare make a scene in front of His Majesty either — His Majesty just pretended not to know. This time, I don’t know where the news leaked from — father had finally managed to get a few relaxed days out, and now… hey… what is all this about!”

Hearing this, Zheng Aman felt ashamed too, and could only lower his head and stare at the cup in his hands.

Qiqian’er, who already knew the whole story between her godfather and the Zheng family, wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes as her laughter subsided and sighed, “So that’s how it is. Here I thought it was only us country folk who were thick-skinned…”

“Aiyo… wife, watch your tongue, this is right in front of the Zheng family’s own kin.”

Chen Dasheng, torn between laughing and crying, hurried to stop her. Qiqian’er had no choice but to swallow her sharp words, sitting there instead thinking to herself that the good days the family enjoyed now were entirely thanks to godfather’s protection from above.

Since her father-in-law was now her own father too, she couldn’t let him suffer a loss. Her feelings for godfather, though not as deep as Choutou’s, were not without warmth either.

Besides, disturbing people like this on the fifteenth of the first month, having everyone running over in the dead of night to wail mourning cries — what did that mean? That they saw the family was doing well now?

All this fuss, and in the end it was just elders leaning on their seniority, forcing godfather to come in person and soften his stance? Pah! What a vile scheme.

If this person has no shame, then there’s no need to give them any face either…

The three of them, each with their own thoughts, rode along in silence, until they arrived at the eastern gate of Yandu. Qiqian’er suddenly spoke up to Zheng Aman: “Little brother, why don’t you find some excuse to slip away for a bit in a moment?”

Zheng Aman was stunned. “Slip away?”

Qiqian’er nodded, a small flicker of mischief lighting up her eyes. “Mm, get off the carriage early, and just pretend you don’t know anything. Otherwise, when I start a fire in a bit, it might singe you too, and then your brother here will blame me…”

Hearing this, Chen Dasheng’s heart gave a violent lurch, and the little teapot in his hand slipped and fell onto the travel table, chipping its spout.

On the fifteenth of the first month, the old madam of the Duke of Zheng household, née Yan, sat restlessly on her couch, unable to settle.

From early morning she had continually sent people to watch at the gate, and asked the kitchen several times whether the dishes her grandson liked were being kept warm. Having finished with all that, she asked her daughters-in-law repeatedly whether her grandson would really come today, whether the courtyard prepared for him long ago had been properly cleaned, whether the old things her grandson liked best had been set out.

Everyone told her he would come, yet she remained uneasy.

She was not a particularly capable old madam. One might not expect it, looking at her as the matriarch of a dukedom, but people are simply different from one another.

She had been born into a household with strict upbringing, timid by nature from birth. At home she deferred to her parents; once married, she couldn’t stand up to her husband either, and simply let her mother-in-law place people in her courtyard as she pleased. Her husband, in his younger years, had also been fond of dallying with all manner of women, and so the Zheng family had grown into a large and thriving clan.

Having no capability of her own, she suffered on all sides, controlled by her husband her whole life, never even managing household matters in the inner quarters for more than a few days at a time. It wasn’t that she wasn’t allowed to manage things at first — she simply lacked the ability.

When a mother cannot stand firm, her children are forced to grow up wise before their time. And so the several children she raised all turned out strong-willed and hard-natured, taking charge for their mother from a young age. Since there were people to take charge, she early on simply deferred to her children, letting them lead.

Especially her eldest daughter, Empress Dowager Zheng — she was the hardest of all, never having borne a child of her own blood her whole life, yet still able to sit firmly upon the throne of Empress Dowager in the Great Liang palace.

Though the old madam now had an accomplished daughter born of the principal wife, a son who was a duke, and grandsons with bright futures, she remained just as soft and yielding as ever — her temperament had long since set, and there was no changing it now.

Take that matter with the granddaughters back then, for instance — the most the old madam had done was tell the old patriarch, “I will never speak to you again.”

And from then on, she truly never spoke to him again. Even when the old patriarch stormed into her room and smashed everything in it — and not just once — she endured it silently without a word, since that old wretch wouldn’t dare go any further anyway.

This was the greatest act of defiance in Madam Yan’s entire life. As for the matter of going to the palace, of going to plead with She Qingling several times when something had happened to her — the old madam never knew of it.

Even if she had known, she had no ideas of her own — at most she would have cried her eyes swollen and refused to eat.

But the moment her son showed the slightest sign of difficulty in front of her, she would settle right down, becoming even more forbearing than before.

And now, the family was going to trouble her grandson again.

Madam Yan knew this wasn’t right, yet she wouldn’t resist — she could only sit restlessly, heart full of guilt, going back and forth in her mind. Once she’d made up her mind, the distress would return, and unable to bear it any longer, she finally asked her sister-in-law in a tone edged with negotiation: “You think… that child, if that child really doesn’t want to come, then… then let’s just leave it, don’t, don’t make things hard for him.”

Her sister-in-law had envied her their whole lives, looked down on her in her heart, yet resentfully lacked her good fortune. Unable to provoke her outright, she could only endure it while harboring a grudge, and now, irritated by her fussing, she said with a trace of spite, “People were already sent last night! It’s too late for you to say this now, sister-in-law!”

Then where were you earlier?

Hearing the barb in her sister-in-law’s words, Madam Yan immediately shrank back, pursing her lips as if about to cry. The moment she pulled out her handkerchief, her sister-in-law sprang up at once. “Sister-in-law, forgive me, I — I need to go change my clothes.”

With that, without waiting for her tears to fall, her sister-in-law supported her and hurried her out — she couldn’t afford to provoke her either. After all, in this world, she herself was the most pitiable, the most helpless, and everyone else was simply black-hearted and rotten.

The old madam walked so hurriedly that she didn’t notice what was happening outside the door, and collided with someone coming in. The other person, no longer young herself, was momentarily winded, and once steadied, kept patting her chest saying she’d been startled.

The old woman attending Madam Yan saw that the person was a gatekeeper’s wife, and raised her hand to strike her fiercely, cursing, “Are you blind! How dare you be so careless…”

But before she could finish venting her temper, the gatekeeper’s wife knelt forward on her knees and, covering her face, said to the room full of noble ladies, “My lady, young mistresses, please go to the gate quickly! It’s not—” She had meant to say “not good,” but it being the New Year, she feared the ill omen, so instead she pointed toward the gate in alarm and said, “Just — just go and see, quickly!”

At this, the whole household of noble ladies, except for the timid old madam who had to be carried, rushed hurriedly toward the main gate, some supported by attendants.

Well! Today was unusually lively indeed.

On the fifteenth of the first month, crowds surrounded the Duke of Zheng’s residence, layer upon layer, both inside and out. The Zheng family had sent word to the Chen family that the old patriarch was dying, yet the front gate of their household had, incongruously, hung red lanterns for the festive season.

Besides these red lanterns, at least seven or eight of the Zheng family’s most presentable young men stood guarding the gate, along with a dozen or so stewards, and the presentable old women of each branch were also waiting — everyone gathered, waiting for She Qingling to arrive, ready to surround him and sweep him bodily into the household.

They were family, after all, bound by blood thicker than broken bones. Once he was inside, it would no longer be up to him — coax him properly, let him see the “real Buddha,” weep and wail, then sacrifice a few scapegoats afterward, and… this matter would be over.

The masters of the Zheng household had planned it all out nicely. What they never expected was that real mourners would suddenly appear at their very gate…

Qiqian’er arrived leading a group of temporarily hired professional wailing women. She herself was dressed in mourning hemp, a hemp cloth on her head — every proper ritual owed by a grandchild-in-law, she had piled entirely upon herself.

Never mind that it was the fifteenth of the first month — the King of Hell claiming a life doesn’t care whether it’s a festival or not, and the coffin shops of the great capital of Yandu never close their doors!

Having asked around for the location, the carriage turned and found the shop — everything needed was ready-made. This business of wailing at funerals, if the price offered was high enough, there were always people willing to take the job.

Chen Dasheng was thoroughly embarrassed, but he couldn’t provoke her either, so he could only keep a wooden face, take a handful of spirit money from the basket he carried, and fling it scattering toward the Duke of Zheng’s residence.

As the paper money fluttered down from the sky, Qiqian’er threw herself down onto the ground and began wailing with real skill: “My dear one… my own dear one! Such thin fortune, such poor fate! Nothing left to eat, nothing left to wear — the whole world celebrating together and you go and give up your life! Hai~ my grandfather, oh! How could you go and give up your life on the fifteenth of the first month, my grandfather, oh!…”