An’er’s third-day bathing ceremony was held in Qinwei Lane, and so was his fifteen-day celebration, but his full-month celebration was held only after everyone returned together to Yandu.

All because he had a doting grandfather without equal in this world—a man who had watched other households flourish with children and grandchildren for generations while his own turned out different, so now that his turn had finally come, he meant to do it up properly.

Because of the old man’s stubbornness, An’er’s full-month celebration meant leaving Qinwei Lane behind and being carried all the way into the Prince’s Mansion.

On the road into Yandu, Qiqian’er held the plump, soundly sleeping An’er, and watching the armed guards riding to either side of the carriage—common folk having to step aside and give way at every crossroad because of their procession—she couldn’t help but think: had she really tumbled her way into all this without even noticing?

The sleeping child stuck out a fist and rubbed at his own ears a few times. Qiqian’er blinked, then quickly slipped her hand back into the swaddling to check—finding it dry, she broke into a smile, and while smiling she leaned down and took a deep, greedy breath of the scent at his little neck, smacking her lips afterward and murmuring, “Oh, Mother’s boy, you smell so good!”

If she loved him this much, of course there were others in Yandu who loved him too.

At first She Qingling hadn’t meant to claim someone else’s eldest legitimate grandson for himself—he’d have been satisfied with a second grandson. But behind him stood Empress Dowager Zheng, and His Majesty had gotten possessive as well; taking advantage of the fact that the boy’s father wasn’t home, he’d already bestowed the imperially granted name—She Wanlin. The child’s Five Elements birth-hour chart was missing wood entirely, a serious deficiency.

So His Majesty rewarded him with ten thousand kinds of favor: a million mu of forested land blessed with sweet dew.

Qiqian’er, for her part, didn’t much care about any of this. These days she was a bit foolish—she barely registered anything else, and didn’t much want to.

She simply watched over the child every waking moment. Sometimes even if she managed to close her eyes for a short nap, she’d suddenly sit up for no reason, reach over to feel for the baby, hold him, sniff him, listen for his little snoring—only then could she drift back off.

But even then her sleep was never steady. Every mother in the world has to walk this road—no matter how pampered or ignorant a woman was before, once she becomes a mother it’s simply in her nature to dote on her child. However deeply and soundly she used to sleep, once she’s a mother a single night’s rest can be broken into eight fragments, and the next day she’s still full of energy to look after her baby.

When it came to raising An’er, Qiqian’er never wanted to rely on anyone else. The Chen and She families hadn’t arranged for a wet nurse at all—instead they’d prepared four sturdy matrons, ready to take turns holding the baby.

There was no helping it. Qiqian’er knew how to raise a child, and she couldn’t bear to hear him cry. The Old Madam also knew how to raise a child, and she likewise couldn’t bear his crying. She Qingling didn’t know the first thing about raising a child—he simply forbade the boy from crying at all, full stop.

Luckily An’er was mild and even-tempered by nature—he slept when he slept and ate when he ate, and never fussed. Truly, if you wanted to hold him, fine; if you wanted to set him down on the heated bed, also fine—he had no complaints either way.

On the day of the banquet, An’er was wrapped in bright red swaddling and, having been fed early, was carried out. The Prince had already been waiting a long while in his finest robes, and the moment he saw the little bundle he grew quite excited—he stretched out his arms, angling them this way and that, but no matter how he tried he couldn’t quite get comfortable holding him.

After a good deal of fumbling he finally managed it. She Qingling held the child against his chest, lifted the corner of the small quilt to look, and broke into a smile.

As fate would have it—perhaps because it was his first time seeing him—An’er happened to open his eyes right then, meeting his grandfather’s gaze, and then let out a toothless yawn. His grandfather opened his own mouth right along with him.

She Qingling hadn’t seen many babies in his life—in fact, he’d never once seen another family’s baby this small—yet he carried the child all the way into a certain room and, upon entering, declared with utter conviction, “I’ve seen so many children in my time, but this is the first one I’ve ever seen so composed and steady. Just look at him.”

His Majesty, who had slipped out quietly to sit for a while, stood up—having plenty of children of his own, he wasn’t shy about it at all, and simply reached over and took the baby away.

Looking down at him, His Majesty thought: hm… well, all the women he’d married were beauties, so naturally their children wouldn’t turn out ugly—but calling a month-old baby “composed and steady”? Are you blind? You don’t even know how to give a proper compliment.

The child still hadn’t grown into his features yet, but standing in front of the boy’s grandfather, His Majesty felt he had to say something. So, with some effort, he said, “Ah, my good ministers, come and see this little one. Look at those brows and eyes—he’s taken all the best features from both his father and mother. Mark my words, he’ll grow up to be quite the handsome one.”

These weren’t even his own words—he’d picked them up from the way the consorts in the harem complimented each other.

Once His Majesty himself had praised the child, the whole room burst into compliments at once. No matter their rank, the old ministers all rose to get a look, then reached into the folds of their robes to pull out some fine, storied trinket to tuck into the swaddling as a blessing.

One said the child’s ears weren’t visible from the front, meaning he’d surely grow up wise and perceptive, never lacking for powerful patrons in life. Another said his nose bridge connected smoothly to his brow in one unbroken line, meaning he’d surely marry a virtuous wife and bring three generations of wealth to his family.

In short, not a single person dared say he’d grow up to be just like his grandfather…

And so, An’er’s life started at its very peak—no official below the fourth rank felt worthy enough to hold him or praise him without embarrassment.

Any minister with real standing knew perfectly well that this child’s father was out there right now risking his neck for the sake of the country. Even those who disagreed with him politically made sure to come by today and offer a few words of praise, sincerely and wholeheartedly.

This child’s father had rendered great service to the nation—one man worth ten thousand troops.

Once the men had finished their compliments, She Qingling handed the child over to Madam Chai, who’d been waiting at the door the whole time. Not quite at ease, he followed right along as she carried the baby off, leaving His Majesty without so much as a host to see him out.

The women were praising the child in the back courtyard, and though he wanted to listen in, he felt too awkward to go over, so he simply stood at the courtyard gate waiting—waiting for them to finish so he could get his grandson back. He hadn’t held him nearly enough yet.

Chen Dasheng wasn’t present, so today it was Chang Lianfang, Zheng Aman, and Li Jingui who stood in as the “father” receiving guests at the Prince’s Mansion. Among the women, it was Qiqian’er’s godmother who received the female guests—not that Zhang Wanru and the others weren’t up to the task, it was simply that it wouldn’t do to have the wife of a fifth- or sixth-rank official host the wife of a first- or second-rank official.

With so many distinguished guests, the gifts were nothing like what an ordinary household would receive—tiger-print hats, tiger-print shoes, tiger-print cloaks, plus a longevity lock on a chain.

Rarely did anyone get the chance to curry favor with the Hidden Chancellor, so such gifts were naturally sent quietly and without fanfare, unlike birthday gifts that were announced with fanfare right at the front gate.

The Old Madam of the Chen family had dressed especially well today. As the matriarch of a now wealthy and powerful household, she was surrounded and showered with compliments in the back hall.

She called herself a muddled old fool, and whenever she didn’t understand something, she never let it embarrass the young people—she’d long since learned to simply say, “Eh? My old ears aren’t what they used to be, I can’t hear you.”

Whenever someone carried An’er over, people would rush out to have a look, then come back and tell the Old Madam how wonderful he was.

The three other branches of the family who’d come along, including Ding Xiang and the others, were also delighted to hear it. Whether or not An’er belonged to the fourth branch, since he didn’t occupy the position of eldest grandson, these several aunts by marriage adored him all the more for it.

Take Madam Li, for instance—ever since Qiqian’er had given birth, the daughters-in-law had all felt a certain pressure. But since An’er had taken the surname She, everyone else’s lives became a bit easier.

The Chen family still had no male grandson of its own.

This was the sisters-in-law’s first time visiting; before, they’d only heard how well things were going, but now, seeing the wealth and grandeur of the Prince’s Mansion with their own eyes, they finally understood just how different the fourth branch truly was from their own households.

What’s more, since the She family handled everything themselves without needing the Chen family’s help, the Chen relatives simply sat in the back chatting idly, every one of them smiling genuinely, not about to embarrass their An’er in the slightest.

Madam Li and the others weren’t well acquainted with the wealthy ladies of Yandu, so they stayed close by the Old Madam’s side, attending to her.

Once the younger women had all run off to see the baby, the Old Madam opened her half-drowsy eyes and looked at Madam Li, Madam Kou, and Madam Luo, and even at Ding Xiang, and said with some exasperation:

“I’m halfway into the grave already, why are you all staring at me? Am I going to get lost? Even if he’s not our family’s boy anymore, he’s still your little brother-in-law’s child. Get out there, quick!

Go help Qian’er’s godmother with the guests. Sitting around at home you all seem like proper people, but look at Jintai’s wife—she doesn’t even need to be told what to do. People can’t be compared to each other, and the moment you do, problems show up. Why can’t you show your faces out there? A good opportunity like this, at least go out and get to know a few people, make some acquaintances—so next time you need something, you won’t have to go bowing and scraping the long way round!”

Watching her grandsons’ wives scurry out, the Old Madam gave a soft sigh. She used to think they were all fine, but ever since leaving Qinwei Lane and arriving in Yandu, the sharp ones weren’t sharp anymore, the ones who used to laugh and joke didn’t dare laugh or joke anymore, and even the more perceptive ones acted like fools just to bolster their own nerve.

Ah, say what you like, but the one who’d given birth this time was simply different—well, no wonder, since she’d given birth to a Star Lord.

The Old Madam thought of how the Chen family’s child had gone to the She family, and only then did her heart settle—otherwise it truly would have grieved her to death, that was a Star Lord! And it was her own family’s elder who’d stolen him away, no less!

But once she got to Yandu and thought of that title of Prince, and all that land, that enormous estate now belonging to her own great-grandson, she came around to it again, thinking—no wonder the old Chen family’s ancestral graves felt off, of course a Star Lord had to be raised in a princely mansion.

Heh! What a steal.

Just as she was lost in thought, a maidservant led Qiao Shi in from outside.

The moment the Old Madam saw Qiao Shi, resentment flared in her—but this wasn’t Qinwei Lane, nor her own old household. With so many people around, airing the family’s dirty laundry wasn’t an option, so she couldn’t lose her temper.

Straightening her old triangular eyes, she simply shot Qiao Shi a sharp glare.

Qiao Shi, being crafty herself, immediately dropped to her knees the moment she saw the Old Madam and kowtowed, begging, “Old Madam, please show mercy. With something this important, if we hadn’t come, we wouldn’t be able to show our faces in Yandu tomorrow. Xi Que and the others are all grown now—for the children’s sake, please spare us a little face.”

The Old Madam looked her up and down: the hairpins in her hair were old-fashioned, her clothes were nothing special, her body had wasted down to skin and bones, yet her belly stuck out enormous, throwing her whole frame off balance as she swayed.

Just then, an unfamiliar madam happened to walk in, and Qiao Shi quickly ducked aside, lowering her head so as not to be seen.

The woman who entered greeted the Old Madam with compliments: “Oh my, Old Madam, your great-grandson has such presence! With all of us crowding around and making such a fuss, an ordinary baby would’ve been scared to tears by now. Heh! But this little one really is a proper young master…”

This madam had a face full of good fortune, yet she imitated the half-lidded, official airs of some minor lord and laughed, “The way he looked at us all, no matter whose arms he was in—what presence! What a proper lordly manner! Truly worthy of being his grandfather’s grandson, born to be a chancellor if I ever saw one!”

Hearing the praise, the Old Madam was overjoyed. She grabbed the woman’s hand and asked, “You saw it too, didn’t you? Isn’t he just so considerate—he never troubles anyone easily, such a peaceful child. If it weren’t for his diaper, we wouldn’t even know anyone had lain down for a nap in our house!”

The woman said cheerfully and loudly, “Isn’t that the truth! I squeezed my way in for the longest time just to get near him, and before I’d even had my fill of holding him, before I could even get a good sniff of him, his grandfather was already standing at the courtyard gate, unwilling to let us keep him any longer, telling us to send him straight back—so stingy!”

Having said her piece, the woman laughed, chatted a bit more with the Old Madam about this family’s child and that family’s baby, and then, without once asking who Qiao Shi even was, found an excuse to slip off and mingle elsewhere.

Once the woman had left, the Old Madam asked the matron beside her, “Who was that?”

The matron told her: it was Madam Chai—Erdian’s wife—her mother’s family, the elder sister-in-law of the Fourth Madam’s godmother.

Ah, one of their own people, then—no wonder she’d felt comfortable enough to chat so freely.

Only then did the Old Madam remark with approval, “You can tell just by looking—that’s a woman with real fortune.”

The matron nodded at once and called over two maids to come massage the Old Madam’s legs and shoulders—there were three days of festivities ahead, and no one dared let the Old Madam wear herself out.

Qiao Shi clutched her handkerchief and sat in a corner, watching people come and go in the hall—this same crude, rustic country woman who used to suffer under her hand back in the day, now dressed up like this and fawned over by all these distinguished people. It felt like a dream.

How many years had it even been?

It felt like only yesterday there’d been six plain bracelets hanging on that arm—but look at her now, the jewelry on her head was the finest from the gold shops, kingfisher-feather inlay with gemstones, a different piece every single day. And the robes and skirts she wore now were in a shade of sandalwood brown Qiao Shi had never seen before—not because the fabric itself was so precious, but because the dye house that made it kept its recipe secret, supplying only certain wealthy households.

Even the shoes the Old Madam had set out beside the heated bed were made with the finest needlework, and the buttons at the collar, on closer inspection, were each a lustrous, oil-smooth jade bead… And looking at the soles of those shoes—pure white, clearly a woman who never had to step in the mud.

Had she herself once been such a fool?

How had she ever dared to lay a hand on this Old Madam? These days her nightmares were all about that beating being exposed, about being dragged off by the authorities and paraded through the streets, then taken to the crossroads and executed by a thousand cuts…

Living in Yandu, resentful or not, at least it made it convenient to watch the autumn executions—she’d already seen several unfilial sons beheaded.

Just look at what kind of day it was when this family had a child—she could well imagine what kind of life this fourth-branch grandson would have from now on: undoubtedly a pampered young master, with eight wet nurses lined up just to feed him until he turned sixteen.

Dozens of servants would attend him wherever he went, terrified he might so much as scrape his skin.

But her own Xi Que? Xi Que wore other people’s castoff clothes—as thrifty as the Old Madam was, she certainly didn’t think a proper young lady needed a new outfit every month.

Her own Lanting Ge’er, despite being high in seniority, wasn’t taken seriously by any of the four older brothers above him. And that youngest child, born not long ago—not a single household in Qinwei Lane had even remembered they now had a little sister.

Thinking of what had become of Chen Siniu now, Qiao Shi wished she could beat her old self to death.

She’d been a perfectly respectable wife of the Chen family—why had she ever gotten mixed up with that wretched Old Madam Tao who came to such a bad end? If she’d been the sharp one, would her husband have run off? If she’d been the capable one, would her son have gone off to the border to die?

Now there was no question of riding anyone’s coattails—there was no going back at all. She was a mother too; thinking of her own Xi Que, of Lanting Ge’er living under someone else’s roof, of her second daughter unwanted at home, and the two more in her belly on top of it all, her body ruined from bearing so many children one after another—Qiao Shi’s heart ached, her eyes stung.

Just then the clappers on the opera stage sounded, and the Jiqing troupe began the grand performance; the ladies and young misses all went off to watch the excitement. The Prince’s Mansion was so vast that this was a rare chance to wander about a little.

The hall grew quiet. The Old Madam had long since seen through Qiao Shi’s thoughts—this was jealousy at its peak, envy to the point of nearly dying of it.

Feeling contemptuous, she said to Qiao Shi without even looking at her, “You’ve been performing this same tune for over ten years now, and you’re still not sick of it? If you dare shed even a single tear at this full-month banquet in the Prince’s household, you know good and well that Old Fourth will beat you to death when you get home!”

Qiao Shi swallowed her tears back down at once—she didn’t dare cry now. She really had caused a disaster this time; creditors had shown up at their door and forced her husband to pay back over four thousand strings of cash…

Chen Dingxiang, having gone around taking in the sights, stepped lightly back into the hall. She walked over to the Old Madam and said in a low voice, “Grandma! I went to go see the gifts sent for our An’er.”

Grandmother and granddaughter, both money-mad.

Hearing this, the Old Madam asked with a smile, “So what all did you collect?”

Ding Xiang said excitedly, “Oh, there’s no counting it all! Since early this morning, cart after cart has come from every household, and the back rooms are already stuffed full. Just yesterday my husband and I thought that gold longevity lock of ours, a pound and a half of it, was quite something—hah, but today nobody even dares bring out a gold lock, since this is a celebration of ‘jade in the making,’ and most everyone’s sending jade instead…”

She glanced over and spotted Qiao Shi lurking in the shadows, and rolled her eyes in contempt. The two of them had bad blood between them from way back—Qiao Shi had once single-handedly turned the whole Chen household upside down, and Chen Dingxiang, a mere junior at the time, had suffered plenty at her hands.

She and the Old Madam felt exactly the same about her—dislike, deep resentment—but she still had to acknowledge her somehow. What to even call her?

Since Qiao Shi had no proper standing in the ancestral hall, she couldn’t be called “Fourth Sister-in-law,” so Ding Xiang decided to call her: “Ah, what a rare sight… it’s Qiao Shi, isn’t it? What, did you come empty-handed?”

Qiao Shi had long since lost whatever sharp tongue she once had, and couldn’t afford to be sharp now anyway.

Her heart ached, but she had to play the pitiful, honest woman now—being called “Qiao Shi” was disrespectful, but she had to accept it all the same. In the Chen family these days, she was something that couldn’t even be properly named.

Trembling, she supported her belly and rose, giving a small curtsy. “It’s the young mistress, isn’t it? For something as important as the Fourth Madam’s celebration, how could we dare be careless? You truly wrong us—we would never come empty-handed. His little grandfather was overjoyed the moment he heard the Fourth Madam had given birth to a young master, and went and found a fine craftsman at the Ministry of Works to make a whole set of top-quality wooden furniture—a little bed, a little cradle…”

From inside the hall came the sound of Ding Xiang stifling a laugh. Qiao Shi looked up, startled, and Ding Xiang pointed at her and said to the Old Madam, laughing, “Grandma, we used to be such fools, honestly couldn’t hear a thing—look how she can pack eight hundred meanings into one sentence. No wonder we could never outmaneuver her back then, hehe!”

Qiao Shi’s face went pale. She turned her own words over carefully in her mind—what was wrong with them?

Carefully, pleadingly, she asked Ding Xiang, “Young mistress, I’m a woman with no skill to speak of. For the children’s sake, please don’t hold the past against me. I truly—even if you lent me eight courages, eight hundred courages, I still wouldn’t dare mean anything else by it today.”

A dozen or so maids came in without a sound, cleared away the several tables of snacks that guests had picked through in disarray, and replaced everything with fresh dried fruits, pastries, preserves, and tea, then withdrew just as silently.

Chen Dingxiang, holding a fresh cup of tea and swinging one newly embroidered shoe, put on the full airs of the mistress of a Ministry of War official’s household and said, “Every single time, you have to put the children first. If I were you, I’d stop mentioning them from now on—mention them too much and it just breeds resentment, and then even a good child ends up unwelcome.

My own mind still isn’t sharp, but even the crooked melons I manage under me are still something. I have no talent, and the four sisters-in-law above me are each shrewder than the last. Qiao Shi, this little speech of yours, these little gestures—maybe you didn’t mean anything by them, maybe you were even trying to please us—but you’ve made a habit of doing wrong for so long now, you simply can’t manage to do right anymore.”

Qiao Shi looked up, startled, and pleaded, holding her belly, “Young mistress?”

Chen Dingxiang smiled. “Ah, say what you like, but everyone outside treats us as one family—whatever good or bad you do, we can’t control it, but the moment you make a mistake, it becomes the whole Chen family’s fault. Tsk! Qiao Shi, calling me ‘young mistress’ is just your way of showing everyone how frail you are, big belly and all, still bowing to a junior like me out of pity—doesn’t that just make me look all the more lacking in manners?”

Qiao Shi shook her head like a rattle-drum—she truly hadn’t meant it that way, and honestly couldn’t understand why she’d even done it.

Chen Dingxiang didn’t care. “Don’t bother putting on airs—nobody here cares who you are. In truth you’re someone with no sense at all, and I doubt the people you associate with have much sense either. You want to show off that your husband still holds some rank at the Ministry of Works, that he can even use court materials to furnish your household with fine things—as if that makes you someone of consequence.

Pah! Qiao Shi, hide your little scheming away. Walking in and out of this Prince’s Mansion, who here recognizes your family as this child’s little grandfather or little grandmother? And who cares one bit about your husband’s sesame-seed-sized post at the Ministry of Works! To talk about embezzling from official duties as though it’s something to be proud of—my fourth uncle must have done something truly wicked in a past life to end up with you. He won’t even need to wait for the next life for the retribution to come…”

Qiao Shi, battered by Chen Dingxiang’s words, felt dazed—had she really done wrong? But back where she used to live, wouldn’t everyone have envied her for saying such things? Hadn’t people always come flocking to curry favor the moment she so much as hinted at her husband’s power and position?

In truth, everything was different now. From this morning until now, what exactly had the Old Madam been showing off? At the very least, she now understood—she wasn’t good at speaking or handling matters, so she’d best play the fool and not cause trouble for the children.

Seeing the look of shock on Qiao Shi’s face, the Old Madam ordered someone to help her up and send her off at once.

This woman’s methods were petty and small-minded—did she really have to go stirring up more trouble on such a joyous day?

Once Qiao Shi had been helped away, Chen Dingxiang watched her retreating back and laughed helplessly. “Grandma, tell me—why was I ever afraid of someone like her?”

The Old Madam patted her. “Why do you think? Back then nobody looked out for the two of us, did they? In this whole Chen family, name one person you could count on—including your own fourth brother.”

Chen Dingxiang laughed ruefully. “True enough, not a single one to rely on. Go looking to the sisters-in-law instead, and you’re guaranteed to find help every time…”

Granny Shi, waiting for her own mistress by the side gate, watched the lowly servants coming and going, and thought of everyone back in Qinwei Lane. Helping her mistress into the carriage, she began to weep. “My lady, isn’t this just bullying? You’re an elder, after all—you bore children for the Chen family! What woman does needlework late into the night while pregnant like you did—for today’s sake you sewed that cloak until your fingers swelled up…”

But Qiao Shi wasn’t listening to any of it—it was the same words over and over. She simply leaned against the carriage window and looked out. They’d traveled quite a way already, and still there were processions of fine carriages moving slowly toward the Prince’s Mansion.

Qiao Shi suddenly said, “Let’s… let’s go back to Qingfeng.”

Granny Shi, mid-sob, froze and looked at her poor mistress. “You… what did you say?”

Qiao Shi said with conviction, “Back to Qingfeng City. Back to Quanhou Street. I want to study, to learn propriety. I need to change how I live…”

Granny Shi stammered, “My lady, you… what’s gotten into you? That house on Quanhou Street was sold off ages ago. You can’t go back.”

But Qiao Shi held her belly, a determination in her eyes unlike anything before. “If I can’t go back, I’ll go back anyway! If there’s no money from selling the Quanhou Street house, Quanqian Street will do just as well. Don’t worry, I still have a bit of private savings…”

She paused, glanced at the driver outside, and said quietly, “Didn’t you see the Old Madam, Ding Xiang, how they are now? They just keep rising higher and higher, but my days are only going downhill—soon enough I’ll tumble right off the cliff to my death…”

Granny Shi spat twice. “My lady, don’t say such unlucky things, what death, what cliff?”

But Qiao Shi paid her no mind, simply going on, “I’m already in a dead end as it is. Counting on that spineless man to hold anything up for me—forget it, I have to go back. My whole life, I’ve ruined everything—I couldn’t even hold onto what was mine, and I’ve wronged my own flesh and blood too… but I’m still a mother after all. He was bought for ten strings of cash and now lives in a princely mansion, while these children of mine, one by one, have all become nothing but concubine-born children…”

Granny Shi was stunned. “No—that’s not right. You and the master are on record at the registry office, how could they be concubine-born?”

Qiao Shi didn’t bother explaining any of this to her—the woman was simply too confused to understand, and pity that she had no one else to turn to, she only patted her shoulder. “We’re going back next month. If we’ve no place to stay, we’ll rent something. My children will attend the Sanli Academy from now on, and grow up alongside their cousins from the main family. Their father can’t be relied on—as for me… I’ll spend half my remaining life on it!”

Qiao Shi gritted her teeth, eyes blazing as she glared out of the carriage window and growled low, “Even if they cut my flesh into a thousand pieces, I will win my children the name of a filial widow’s sons. Who says everyone else wasn’t bought with money too? I’m worth far more than she ever was!”