Qiqian’er had said she wouldn’t manage the accounts anymore, and true to her word, she handed the ledgers over cleanly and efficiently.

Once the accounts changed hands, each household found itself in its own situation, but the most flabbergasted of all was Guan Si’er. He received three estates, roughly fifteen hundred mu of good farmland under his name, four storefronts along Qingfeng’s main street, and over three hundred strings of silver left over.

In his whole life, he’d never held such a heavy sum of wealth—Guan Si’er only knew how to spend amounts around five hundred; beyond that, he genuinely had no idea what to do. The poor boy was practically sick with worry over it. Truly, a man troubled by having too much money.

Guan Si’er actually had a new name now—Gong Yan. This name had been formally entered into the Gong family’s genealogy, though he still wasn’t used to it; when others called him “Marquis Gong,” he sometimes didn’t even react.

The weather was decent that day. After Guan Si’er finished his shift, a young eunuch came to summon him—His Majesty wanted him to come to the imperial garden to help him stretch his muscles a bit.

Calling in a guard to spar with him was one of His Majesty’s ways of relieving the tedium of his days, though not everyone earned the honor of being summoned for it. Why was it so often Guan Si’er he called, and not Chen Dasheng? Because His Majesty had a chubby little son who only bothered to move around when Guan Si’er was there to play with him—get anyone else to try, and the boy wouldn’t budge an inch.

At the edge of an open space in the imperial garden, Consort Xiao carefully brushed out the character “Yan” with her writing brush to show Guan Si’er. “‘Such is that son—an accomplished man of the state.’ A fine man is called yan; a man’s excellence and wisdom—this is a good character, worth ten thousand times more than ‘Guan Si’er.'”

The Sixth Prince had come along, and sometimes Consort Xiao used the excuse of watching her son to observe the sparring from the sidelines. She wasn’t vying for favor—she was simply one of the rare people in the palace who managed to live at ease, coming and going as she pleased.

Guan Si’er looked at the name he’d privately traced at least a thousand times, grinning with satisfaction. As he scratched the back of his head, several rolled sheepskin contract papers accidentally slipped out from his sleeve.

Chubby as he was, the Sixth Prince had quick hands—he snatched them up and opened them, looking them over repeatedly. He recognized the characters but had no idea what a contract deed was, so he asked, “Xiao Qi, what does this say?”

Consort Xiao glanced over and said teasingly, “What does it say? It says you’re some kind of immortal! Don’t crumple it for Xiao Qi. I did wonder why this child’s sleeve was hanging so heavy today—who knows what he’s stuffed in there—fancy carrying something this important around on your person, aren’t you afraid of losing it?”

Seeing these things brought Guan Si’er nothing but worry, so he explained to Her Ladyship the matter of his sister-in-law dividing up the household accounts.

After hearing him out and looking over the stack of documents, Consort Xiao praised him. “I often hear His Majesty praise Qingling’s household for having such a capable, virtuous wife—and it seems your sister-in-law truly lives up to that. In just three years, she’s built up such a fortune for you brothers. In the future, you ought to treat her with the same devotion you’d show your own mother—even a birth mother might not measure up to a sister-in-law this good.”

“A’Duo? What’s good or not?”

His Majesty returned in a haze of white mist from practicing with his halberd.

Hearing this, Consort Xiao rose and walked over smiling, taking a handkerchief to wipe his brow down to his neck. In front of her, His Majesty was as docile as a child.

Consort Xiao laughed. “Dasheng’s wife is expecting, and says she won’t be helping Xiao Qi manage the accounts anymore. Look how worried this child has been—you should have seen him…” She covered her mouth, laughing. “Running around with a whole sleeve full of contracts, not even worried about losing them.”

“Oh? Bring them all out for me to see…”

With no choice, Guan Si’er took out all the contracts and unfolded them one by one for His Majesty to examine.

His Majesty looked over the documents quite seriously, even pointing at one for land outside the capital. “Why’d you go all the way to Little South Mountain to buy land?”

Guan Si’er glanced down, then answered with full confidence, “Reporting to Your Majesty, it’s cheap there! With my meager salary, that’s the only place I could afford. Lucky for me my sister-in-law bought early—it was old, abandoned farmland, only started yielding a harvest in the second year. My sister-in-law says now Little South Mountain land has gone up to three hundred fifty coins a mu, and you still can’t find any for sale.”

Pleased, His Majesty nodded. “Good, good—not being able to find any is a good sign, means more people are farming. But your family’s wealth has grown awfully fast—you’ve even got storefronts now?”

Guan Si’er replied, “Reporting to Your Majesty, that’s from the past two years’ harvest proceeds from my estate. My sister-in-law originally bought an empty plot near the roadside pavilion in Qingfeng, meaning to set up a small vegetable garden close to home. Who’d have thought the street kept extending longer and longer—after a family discussion, we built storefronts there instead, all adjoining each other. Now… there’s not a single plot of land left in that area to be had.”

His Majesty nodded. “Heh! I know about this—your teacher’s been boasting about it to me several times since last year. Having a good sister-in-law is a blessing for you all. Speaking of which, do you know why I called you in today?”

Guan Si’er blinked, gesturing with his hands. “Wasn’t it just to spar with you?”

That this boy could be friends with the Sixth Prince made sense—they were truly two of a kind, simple-minded, never overthinking things.

His Majesty laughed, glanced sideways to check that Zhang Minwang had stepped away, then said, “Your family’s lawsuit against the Zhao family is settled now. You—don’t you have any thoughts on it?”

Startled, Guan Si’er scratched his head for a good while before saying, “The wicked got what was coming to them. The anger in my heart’s been let out—what else is there to think? I really haven’t thought of anything.”

Zhao Changxi had hanged himself; Zeng Shi had been sentenced to be cut in half at the waist and her body left exposed in the wilderness; the other conspirators had all been sentenced to be sawn apart. As it was now the season of renewal, the sentences would be carried out after autumn.

Because the Guan Si’er case couldn’t be publicly disclosed, in order to console the victim, the Ministry of Justice had ruled for the rarely-used harsh punishments, and the Emperor had approved it without even reviewing the case in person.

Consort Xiao sighed. “Your Majesty, don’t go bullying this honest child. If you have something to say, just say it plainly—this one and our Sixth Prince both have parrot-straight guts, and you’re waiting for them to catch your hints?”

His Majesty laughed and reached out to pat Guan Si’er’s shoulder. “Ah, your elder brother’s the same way, and so are you—sometimes your honesty worries even me on your behalf. Tell me truthfully—don’t you hate them?”

Guan Si’er answered earnestly, “Reporting to Your Majesty—I do hate them. But sometimes when I can’t sleep, I think, at least I survived. If not for that ordeal… I’d never have known my brothers, and I’d never have met Your Majesty either. Just for those reasons alone, I… don’t hate them!”

His Majesty smiled and nodded. “Mm, good, you’ve grown. That you can think this way is a good thing—you brothers are all fine men…”

Just then, Zhang Minwang arrived with three young eunuchs carrying a box, set it on the table, opened it one by one, and quietly withdrew.

Guan Si’er glanced over and saw the box was full of sheepskin contracts, leaving him bewildered.

His Majesty smiled and picked up a contract to show the Sixth Prince. “Come look, Xiao Liu—in ancient times this was called a zhiji, generally used as proof of a sale transaction. Later, people feared the contracts would be damaged, so they engraved the words onto bronze vessels as proof. Nowadays, we use sheepskin instead—sturdy enough.”

To His Majesty, these things were merely teaching material for his son. After flipping through them for a while, showing his son the land deeds, the forest deeds, and the shop deeds, he turned to Guan Si’er and said, “Take them—they’re all yours now! These are what the Zeng and Zhao families paid you in compensation, pooling their entire clans’ resources.”

Guan Si’er’s eyes went wide instantly. Once it sank in, he waved both hands frantically. “No, no, I don’t want it, don’t want it, can’t take it.”

He looked as if dodging poison, as if he wished he had wings to fly away from it that instant.

Everyone burst out laughing. Consort Xiao chimed in, “Child, why are you so frightened? Just take it—you suffered a great wrong. If it weren’t for you letting this go, whether Zhao or Zeng, producing such a poisonous woman meant any daughter born into either clan would have only one path: death at birth. And that’s not even the worst of it—imagine if some scholar dramatized the tale, and this disgrace ended up recorded in the history books forever.”

His Majesty casually closed the box lid, laughing. “Take it. Consider it you sparing the Crane Summons Academy lineage a way forward—that’s a great deal of goodwill you’ve earned. This is nothing but outside wealth, after all.”

Guan Si’er pouted. “I have Your Majesty, I have my teacher, I have my elder brothers—what do I need anyone else’s goodwill for?”

Hearing Guan Si’er list off all these people he relied on, yet conspicuously not mentioning the Gong family, His Majesty smiled and asked, “I hear you rarely stay at home these days?”

“No?” Guan Si’er sounded genuinely puzzled. “I go home every day after I’m done with my duties?”

His Majesty tapped him. “I mean your birth parents’ home.”

At this, Guan Si’er grew visibly awkward, hemming and hawing for a long while before finally lowering his head. “Your Majesty, I… I’m not close with them. I have, have stayed there a few times, but I just can’t get used to it—waking up in the mornings there feels so awkward… and it’s not just me who’s uncomfortable, that household feels awkward too… it just feels worse than before. Before, I could shamelessly mooch meals off Teacher Gong. Now, when I see, see my father, I can’t even find my mouth with my chopsticks…”

“Heh…”

Everyone couldn’t help laughing again, though on reflection, it made sense—suddenly having a child like this appear would feel awkward for anyone involved. It wasn’t a lack of affection, just not knowing how to express closeness.

Once the laughter died down, Guan Si’er’s eyes suddenly lit up, and he pointed at the box. “Your Majesty, why don’t I just give this to…”

Before he could finish, he got smacked. His Majesty scolded after striking him, “Give it to whom? Not enough sense in that head of yours—this is yours, they have their own…”

His Majesty couldn’t very well spell it out for him: your parents haven’t formally divided the family estate from your brothers and sister—if you handed this over, would it count as part of the shared family funds, or your own private account? Your father and mother are fond of you now, but once they pass and the estate is divided, your elder brother gets seven-tenths of it—wouldn’t you have suffered all this for nothing?

It wasn’t that the Gong family had poor character—it was simply the way of the world, the ancestral customs.

Moreover, this compensation had originally been a single sum—it was only after His Majesty and Master She discussed it that half was set aside specifically for Guan Si’er. The Gong family had no idea about this; it was purely a case of insiders favoring their own.

The Gong family had already received their share of the compensation nearly half a month ago, yet hadn’t come looking for Guan Si’er about anything—which told him all he needed to know.

Everyone had their own difficulties. Gong Zhiyi was a man who valued propriety above all. Even if he favored his youngest son and wanted to give him more property later, he’d still have to divide the family’s assets fairly among all three sons—and his daughters-in-law would all have to review and consent to it too.

That was already more than one pair of hands, more than one heart, standing between them.

Well, look at how indifferent they were about it—it made His Majesty’s blood boil.

Seeing how oblivious Guan Si’er was, Consort Xiao smiled and told him, “Take all this back and give it to your sister-in-law—ask her how to arrange it. Don’t decide anything yourself.”

Hearing Her Ladyship say this, the sour, worried look on Guan Si’er’s face finally broke into a smile.

He thanked her, murmured a bit with the Sixth Prince, arranged their next meeting, and then left carrying the hot-potato box in his arms.

Once Guan Si’er was well out of earshot, His Majesty remarked flatly, “Satisfied now?”

Consort Xiao laughed. “Then I humbly thank Your Majesty’s grace. This concubine dares not hope for anything more—given our Sixth Prince’s temperament, this may well be the one child who stays by my side, playing and keeping me company, all the way into old age. He’s simple and pure at heart, as you’ve seen, and his character is trustworthy too.”

His Majesty nodded, looking rather pleased with himself. “That’s right. The day I saw him at the Tan family’s place, I knew at a glance—this one’s my man. And not just him—look at Dasheng, Jintai, and the rest, every one of them a solid, dependable good lad… How many people has all this wealth in Yandu corrupted, how many has it changed? Yet these men can keep their composure, wearing plain clothes day in and day out, staying so down-to-earth…”

The two of them chatted like an old married couple over household matters, while the guileless Sixth Prince wandered in from outside and clung to Consort Xiao’s side, acting coy and adorable, rolling around like a little piglet.

This mother and son, bonded by fate, asked for little, yet always seemed to receive a measure of favor from Yang Zao. The Sixth Prince, raised by his birth mother Empress Dowager Jiang [Note: likely an error in the source, given “生母江太后” — birth mother Consort/Empress Jiang], was all the more special for it.

Yet Yang Zao didn’t realize that this obvious favoritism had, by the fourth year of Yong’an, already begun stirring jealousy.

Not far from Banmian Pavilion, the Fifth Prince Yang Ying stood silently. Behind him stood a row of young eunuchs holding vases, filled with apricot blossom branches he’d personally gone up the mountain before dawn to pick for his father.

No one knew how long Yang Ying had been standing there before he silently left, walking toward the entrance of the imperial garden, where he ran into Yang Zhen carrying a covered box inward.

Bitterness welling up, he tossed out a sour remark. “Oh! Second Brother? Off to join the happy family reunion, are we? Wouldn’t want to get in the way!”

Yang Zhen was taken aback by this, and after Yang Ying walked off, a young eunuch came over and murmured something to him.

The Second Prince smiled faintly at what he heard, then carried the box on into the imperial garden. Consort Xiao’s favor meant nothing to him one way or another—even before Daliang’s founding, he’d helped his father handle trivial matters. With the Empress having no son of her own, he was only too glad for his father to favor his other consorts more.

Walking a few more steps, he suddenly turned with a smile to murmur to those around him, “Fifth Brother really is quick-witted. The apricot blossoms are just right this time of year—hurry, send someone up the mountain to cut some good branches, so the Old Ancestress, Empress Mother, and Consort Xiao can all enjoy arranging them in vases too…”

Carrying the box out of the palace, Guan Si’er, with his sister-in-law pregnant, couldn’t withstand his elder brother’s fists, and had no idea how to manage all this wealth anyway. Gritting his teeth, he went straight to the Commandery Prince’s residence, found his teacher, dumped the box on him like a hot potato, and left, only saying it was a temporary deposit.

This left She Qingling thoroughly, thoroughly exasperated—he had no interest in managing the imperial treasury either, and here he’d shown a bit of favoritism only to bring trouble on himself…

Setting aside how furious She Qingling was, and how he sought out Chen Dasheng for a proper scolding, Chen Dasheng had no choice but to find some experienced accountants and began, from that day on, relentlessly badgering Guan Si’er every day to teach him household management and bookkeeping.

As for Guan Si’er, having tossed off his hot potato, he headed back to Old Dao Camp feeling utterly light. But as he reached the yamen gate, he spotted the Gong family’s old steward, Lu Runnian, waiting there for him.

Seeing Guan Si’er, Lu Runnian came over smiling. “Third Young Master, just getting back? This old servant saw the other masters return long ago…”

Guan Si’er tugged at his uniform and said without looking up, “Why are you asking about this?”

He served in the Imperial Guard and handled sensitive scouting matters. But ever since he’d gained a family, things had become complicated to explain.

It wasn’t that he lacked affection for them—it was that his mother worried so much, wanting to know everything, asking about everything, and since he couldn’t tell her, he could only slowly, gently train those around him to stop trying to pry information from him.

Steward Lu’s old face flushed, and he hastily apologized. “Don’t be cross, young master, this old servant spoke out of turn. It’s just, you see, you haven’t been home in so many days, the Madam misses you terribly.”

Mother missed him.

Hearing this, Guan Si’er’s irritable mood lifted at once. He looked up and smiled. “In that case, wait here a moment, I’ll go change clothes and come right back out.”

But Steward Lu said, “Young master, we’ve already prepared clothes for you at home, no need to change.”

Right—he had two homes now.

Guan Si’er called over the gatekeeper, asking him to go in and tell his brothers he’d be going back to Scholar Street tonight. With that arranged, he didn’t ride in the Gong family’s carriage, but rode his own horse alongside it instead.

At the Gong residence on Scholar Street, Madam Li had been preparing things since noon, waiting for her son to come home from his duties for dinner.

Counting Guan Si’er, the Gong family had three sons. The eldest, Gong Xian, married to Ren Shi, had two sons, Quanzhi and Yongzhi. The second, Gong Zhi, married to Huang Shi, had a son, Yaozhi, and a pair of five-year-old twin daughters, Ziqi and Ziyi. There was also a daughter, Xinghong, nicknamed A’Mao.

The Gong family had good household discipline, living together as one big, harmonious family—the idea of dividing the estate was simply never even brought up. The old patriarch, Gong Zhiyi, came from a merchant background and had plenty of money from the family’s ancestral business to support the whole household.

Despite Gong Xian being twenty-nine and Gong Zhi twenty-six, both held the rank of xiucai scholar, yet father and sons all shared the same unambitious temperament, devoting themselves single-mindedly to literary studies, caring little for official advancement.

Madam Li looked toward the gate, her expression somewhat dazed. “Our third boy’s heart is just too rough and simple. It’s been over ten days now—why won’t he come home? Scholar Street isn’t even far from Old Dao Camp—what’s so great about staying at that yamen?”

This wasn’t the first time she’d said this, but her eldest daughter-in-law, Ren Shi, didn’t seem to mind the repetition at all, smiling as she said, “Third Brother just isn’t used to it yet, Mother. Take it slow, we’ll take it slow too—can’t rush this… he needs to be taught, gently.”

Sensitive to this, Madam Li turned to look seriously at Ren Shi. “He doesn’t need teaching. He’s better than his brothers already.”

After Madam Li said this, her second daughter-in-law, Huang Shi, laughed. “That’s certainly true. The other day when our academy’s students went to register at the Imperial College, your second son got so flustered—had no idea where to even register. It happened that Third Brother was there delivering something to the academy, and he brought a few people along to find the Deputy Libationer himself, settling the whole matter smoothly…”

At this, Huang Shi laughed to herself for a moment, and when her mother-in-law and sister-in-law looked at her strangely, she stifled her laughter and said, “Mother, you don’t know—that Libationer Wang treats our Third Brother like a sworn brother, but the moment he turned to your second son, he called him ‘Worthy Nephew’!”

After Huang Shi finished, Madam Li blinked, and then the three women all burst into giggles together.

Well, how could it not be awkward? The father was there temporarily to teach a few years of coursework and held no official rank. But the son was a proper, bona fide court official—practically a colleague to the various officials at the Imperial College.

While they were still laughing, Madam Li’s maid Caixiu ran in, smiling. “Madam, Third Young Master is back!”

Excited, Madam Li stood to head outside, but before she could, Guan Si’er, with his long strides, had already come through the second gate and into the courtyard. Seeing Madam Li hurrying out, he called out “Mother” with a smile and reached out to support her.

Madam Li cried every single time she saw this youngest son, and this time was no exception. She grabbed Guan Si’er’s hand and grumbled, “Is there glue on the kang at that yamen of yours? How else could you be stuck there so long you won’t come home?”

Guan Si’er greeted his two sisters-in-law properly, then helped Madam Li sit down before explaining, “Mother, I have to get up for morning drills before the dawn bell rings. Coming home would trouble the whole household too—especially on days with the grand court session, everyone would have to stay up late lighting lamps for me.”

Hearing this only made Madam Li more distressed. Paying no mind to her two daughters-in-law standing right there, she said tearfully, “Why does my son have to suffer so? Your brothers, grown as they are, still rely on the family, and you have to fend for yourself…”

This remark left Ren Shi and Huang Shi feeling rather awkward.

Guan Si’er laughed, first nodding apologetically to his two sisters-in-law, then said to Madam Li, “Mother, my brothers are men of great learning—I’m just a rough soldier, how could I compare to them? I’m just selling my brute strength, that’s all.”

Just as mother and son were chatting happily, a swarm of children came bursting in from outside.

Their young uncle striding in wearing his armor, sword at his side, made his own father look a thousand times less impressive by comparison.

Wanting to get close to their uncle, the children used the Gong family’s usual approach—the youngest, Li Yaozhi, held up a page from a fish illustration book and inched his way forward to Guan Si’er, first bowing properly in greeting, then asking, “Uncle, do you know what this is?”

Huang Shi glared, about to scold him, but Guan Si’er glanced at the page and laughed. “Ah, this one—it has a faint bone structure on top of its head, this is a remora, mostly found in the South Sea. It doesn’t swim on its own, but uses that thing on its head to attach itself to bigger fish and travel around with them. Also called a ‘crown-plate fish’…”

Even hanging around His Highness the Sixth Prince hadn’t given him access to proper books like this.

The children, failing to stump their young uncle, immediately began to worship him.

But as Guan Si’er patted their heads, he sighed inwardly. He’d seen illustrated books like this depicting a thousand forms of living creatures before—in the palace, and at the Commandery Prince’s residence—since they were painstakingly hand-painted in fine color ink, taking an entire set to produce. He’d wanted a set for himself and asked around at bookshops all over Yandu, but was told none were for sale, and even special orders couldn’t find a master copy.

Never mind the cost—a full set of such illustrated creature compendiums required over a dozen craftsmen three years to copy from a master original. These were private family treasures; ordinary people would never even hear of such things, let alone see one.

Yet the Gong children could run around casually holding colored pages of it.

Not knowing what was on Guan Si’er’s mind, Huang Shi helped her elder sister-in-law bring dishes to the table, chattering as she worked. “Don’t mind them, Uncle—these little rascals use this book to stump people every day. Heh, looks like they’ve finally met their match today.”

As Guan Si’er washed his hands in the basin a maid brought over, Madam Li, though not one for many words, pushed the maid aside and personally handed him a towel and rinse water herself… fussing about, adding to the chaos in her own way.

With no choice, Guan Si’er accepted his mother’s affection, sat down, and asked Huang Shi, “Second Sister-in-law, this set of illustrations they’re holding looks a bit different from the one in the palace—what edition is this?”

Ren Shi, startled inwardly, glanced up at her young brother-in-law but kept working with her hands.

Simple-minded and not one to overthink, Huang Shi answered readily, “This is from the Fengwu family library. Your elder brother goes there to copy books whenever he’s free.”

Impressed, Guan Si’er praised him. “Second Brother draws these paintings so well.”

Huang Shi said, “Oh no, our father painted these long ago—your brother doesn’t have that kind of patience. As for the edition, this one’s probably not as old or as complete as the palace’s—the palace adds new entries every year, and only slowly do caring people bring copies out for our academy to collect. The page your nephew showed you, though, was one Father painted himself, a small volume, worried they’d damage the real one—it’s fish and scaled creatures, several dozen pages. It’s such a fascinating book—not just them, even I find myself enjoying it sometimes…”

Disliking how much her daughter-in-law was talking, Madam Li shot her a look. “He’s hungry! Let him eat a few bites first.”

Embarrassed, Huang Shi immediately fell silent, though she didn’t take it to heart at all.

So Guan Si’er sat down to eat, alone at the table, while his mother sat serving him dishes and his two sisters-in-law stood adding food and soup to his bowl.

Bite after bite piled on—lucky for him he had a healthy appetite, or he’d surely have choked to death.

Madam Li kept chattering all the while. “…This spring we’re having clothes made, so I’ve had extra prepared for you. From now on, whenever you’re off duty, you’re to come straight home and stay…”

Guan Si’er nodded. “Mother, no need for silk and satin, plain cloth is fine.”

Madam Li restrained a sigh. “Fine, whatever my son wants.”

Guan Si’er smiled gratefully and lowered his head, continuing to eat.

“Son, listen, Mother has to say this—though you have your salary now, they say you’re still being supported by His Majesty?”

Guan Si’er nodded again—true enough, he was still eating off the allowance of a lower-ranked consort.

Madam Li sighed. “Mother’s been thinking—what’s yours is yours, but what the family owes you, we still ought to give you.”

Guan Si’er shook his head at her, but Madam Li continued, “This is what you deserve, same as your brothers! Good boy, I’ve already spoken with your brothers and sisters-in-law about it too—from now on, your food, clothing, and daily expenses will all come from the family’s general account. What’s yours stays yours, don’t go spending it carelessly, save it all for yourself.

“Good boy, if you need to spend a large sum, just mention it to your sisters-in-law—anything under a thousand strings, use it as you please; over a thousand strings, just tell your father and me. Don’t worry, our family can afford to support you…”

Guan Si’er, remembering the boasting he’d done at the yamen that day, felt a little embarrassed.

But Madam Li continued, “Your brothers currently draw their social and living expenses from the family’s shared funds too, a hundred strings a month each. Your father’s thinking is, now that you’re out working, you’ll have even more social obligations. So we’ll favor you a little—from now on, the family will allot you two hundred strings a month… if that’s not enough, well, we have more, use as much as you need…”

Guan Si’er glanced, feigning casualness, at his two sisters-in-law, and seeing they showed not the slightest resentment as they kept serving dishes, he finally relaxed a little. As for the half of the compensation His Majesty had mentioned, he truly hadn’t thought much of it—his mother and he had both been wronged by this whole affair, and besides, this was a household of three generations living together under one roof.

This was good enough.

Madam Li went on chattering about matters in Guan Si’er’s room, what she’d added, where the items came from—she truly favored her youngest son, giving him nothing but the finest things. Just as she was in the middle of this, a flurry of footsteps came rushing in from outside.

Master Gong had come straight from the academy; only upon reaching the door did he remember his fatherly dignity, and leaning against the doorframe, catching his breath for a good while, he finally coughed once and said, “Oh? Could it be Yan’er has come home!”

Madam Li had recently taken to deeply resenting this old man’s choice of name, and upon hearing it, she scolded, “Look at that terrible name you gave him—sounds just like ‘swallow,’ no wonder he’s out flying around all day, never landing his wings at home! Go change that awful name for me right now…”

The two sisters-in-law exchanged glances and both lowered their heads, laughing again.

The children adored their grandfather and swarmed him at once, some climbing up, some clinging to his legs… a lively racket.

Guan Si’er sighed inwardly, thinking, well, this family was still a hundred times better than Little Hua’s. Little Hua’s parents, wanting to favor their youngest son even slightly, had to secretly send things to Qinwei Lane to do it.

His own parents, however he looked at it, only grew more pleasing to the eye.