Qiqian’er and her group arrived at the Gong residence and received extremely thoughtful hospitality. Guan Si’er’s eldest sister-in-law, Madam Ren, accompanied them the whole way, and seeing the newly repaired corner brackets on the eaves of the three-bay new room in the back courtyard where Guan Si’er would live, with the renovation marks still visible, Madam Ren apologized:
“Sister-in-law, I won’t hide it from you—this is common wood. This used to be an old building, and we don’t live poorly, but we could only renovate it, not rebuild it entirely. The elders back home wanted us to replace it with sacred timber, but my father said, cutting timber costs a thousand going into the mountains and only five hundred coming out—that kind of wasteful sin we won’t touch. So we used this wood instead. Please forgive us, sister-in-law.”
Qiqian’er didn’t understand these things—she’d only glanced at it casually. As for “sacred timber,” meaning massive, top-quality lumber over five hundred years old, that much she did know.
So she smiled and said, “Common wood is fine. As long as it’s usable, there’s no need to be so particular.”
Madam Ren let out a breath of relief.
Today Qiqian’er represented the bride’s family—if she’d objected, they would have had to renovate again; that was simply the custom.
With that said, Qiqian’er led her son into the main hall, and in the empty main hall turned around three times for form’s sake, then handed the ruler in her hand to the maid holding the red-silk-lined tray. With that, today’s task was considered complete.
When she came out, she followed Madam Ren to the main hall of the primary residence, and upon entering, Guan Si’er’s mother handed her a large, heavy red envelope containing six gold leaves inside.
Qiqian’er thanked her, then went around with Madam Li being introduced to the Gong family relatives one by one, and couldn’t help but be amazed.
Master Gong’s family was the Sixth Branch, Junior Line. Above the Sixth Branch, Junior Line was the Sixth Branch, Senior Line—and the Senior Line alone had twenty-one brothers of the same generation, all sons of one grandfather. From this alone one could tell just how large the Gong family was.
Those present were all women today—the men weren’t making an appearance.
Even though these were all relatives within the five degrees of mourning kinship, Qiqian’er lost track of who was who halfway through the introductions.
Madam Ren murmured in her ear: “Don’t be upset—I’ve been married in for so many years and I still can’t keep them all straight myself. I have to have them tell me who’s who and what to call them each time. They’re all elders, so in a bit when they give your little young master gift money, don’t be polite about it—just accept it.”
Qiqian’er burst out laughing, feeling that the Gong family was much more likeable than the Chang family.
The Chang family, by contrast, was truly off-putting. Ever since the falling out with Xiaohua’r, when her godmother came back from the temple, she’d gone to pay a visit once, and they hadn’t opened their hearts to her since. They’d even resented her for going along with Choutou and getting swept up in Xiaohua’r’s troubles, as if she’d been a bad influence.
What kind of talk was that—she’d only been with the Marquis Chang household a few days, while Chen Dasheng and Xiaohua’r were brothers who’d been through hardship together. If the two of them didn’t side with Xiaohua’r, who would they side with?
Back when Chen Dasheng was so badly injured, the Chang residence hadn’t come at all; it was Xiaohua’r who came to scratch his brother’s back and keep him company whenever he wasn’t on duty. Only after Chen Dasheng beheaded the Nine Provinces Domain did they finally send gifts, explaining that they’d been unwell themselves and delayed.
How awkward. If you could get along, get along; if not, keep your distance. Why all this hesitating back and forth? Were they afraid that if Chen Dasheng gained more power, he’d make trouble for their two dutiful sons?
She, Choutou, wasn’t that petty.
Look how good the Gong family was—even if she had some small ulterior motive, she’d say it right to your face. Business aside, courtesy remained; it was about mutual willingness, never creating enemies or trouble for oneself.
And so, the gifts really were accepted—every time they were introduced to another branch of Gong elders, her son got another pouch hung around his neck. By the time they’d gotten through barely half the introductions, little Gennu’er’s neck was practically sagging under the weight, and he started wailing.
Everyone laughed, quickly having their attendants take the gift pouches off the young masters and misses.
The pouches were then received on trays carried by maids—one tray filled up, then a new one was brought to collect more—it was quite the spectacle.
There were plenty of children present today, and the Gong family was wealthy, so Imperial Guard Alley made off with a small windfall. Any random child could bring home dozens of pouches stuffed with small gold ingots—the little ingots weren’t large, but each weighed at least five qian, and it took at least six of them bundled together to make a proper showing.
Truly, they were flaunting their wealth.
While waiting to be seated for the banquet, a table of sisters-in-law serving as hostesses started chatting with Qiqian’er without even being asked, going on about all the messy details of their own families.
They were all happy matters anyway.
Who am I, what’s my relation to your family… These women’s entire lives revolved around the inner household, the family estates, shops, sons, grandsons—though Qiqian’er’s perspective was different now, she still listened with great interest.
They could always quickly work out their generational relationship to Guan Si’er, how distant or close it was, and from now on they’d all be relatives—I’ll be good to you, you be good to me, don’t forget me when something good comes up.
That was roughly the gist of it.
Qiqian’er kept smiling, her ears filled with talk of “my third uncle,” “my third granduncle,” “my future third aunt,” “third sister-in-law,” “third madam,” this and that.
Finally, once the relationships were sorted out, one of the women curiously asked Qiqian’er: “Elder sister-in-law, have you ever been to the palace? What’s the palace like?”
The question was rather too broad.
Wealthy as they were, in matters of worldly experience, money could only buy so much—what it couldn’t buy, it truly couldn’t buy. Having come to the capital once, they wanted to soak up a bit of the imperial aura at least.
The question caught Qiqian’er off guard. She glanced around, and saw the other women all watching her eagerly too.
The woman continued: “Just the other day, Sixth Aunt specially had someone take us out to look around the outside. Goodness, the Emperor’s family’s walls are so tall, and the Golden Throne Hall is truly enormous—the seven or eight of us in one carriage, the old donkey walked till it foamed at the mouth, and we still didn’t get all the way around.”
Another burst of laughter went up.
Qiqian’er smiled and said, “Oh? Doesn’t the old tutor go into the palace every day to lecture the imperial princes? Has he never mentioned it to you all when he comes home?”
The woman looked utterly astonished at this, patting her chest and speaking frankly: “Oh my! My father-in-law is over ten years older than Sixth Uncle, yet he’s all restrained and careful in front of Sixth Uncle, terrified his clothes might not fit properly, not even daring to brush off a speck of dust with any force—he has to turn away to do it. And it’s not just him, you know?”
Qiqian’er blinked, curious—know what?
The woman, her head full of pearl and jade ornaments, leaned in and said: “Back home, if any child wouldn’t sleep at night, his mother would say, ‘Sixth Granduncle’s coming to make you recite your lessons!’ And that would scare the child so badly he’d shut his eyes and go straight to sleep—sometimes he’d even wet the bed from fright halfway through the night. Can you imagine how frightening that is?!”
When she finished, everyone around burst into laughter again, and Qiqian’er found herself liking the Gong family even more.
How to put it—warmth and human feeling, the Gong family never lacked for it.
You couldn’t look down on them just because they were worldly and fond of money—merchant families bowed and scraped for every coin, counting every last cent because it didn’t come easy, but the family spirit that showed through was one of the whole clan, young and old, being close and united, all pulling together on one rope. Even a nephew’s wife several branches removed spoke of Master Gong as if he were her own uncle, with no sense of distance at all.
Everything she’d worked so hard to build in Imperial Guard Alley—wasn’t this exactly the kind of result she’d been hoping for?
And so Qiqian’er lifted her teacup to clear her throat, not wanting to say too much, and spoke only briefly of the palace.
“If elder sister-in-law is asking about the Daliang palace, several of us have been there.”
Qiqian’er gestured toward Ding Yuniang and the others.
The Gong women’s eyes filled with envy at this.
Qiqian’er continued: “As for what the palace actually looks like inside, none of us dared look too closely, nor dared ask about it. I only heard my husband mention once that it seems even the Emperor himself doesn’t know exactly how big his own palace is.”
In the spacious main hall, several dozen matriarchs listened to Qiqian’er in total silence, without so much as a cough.
These words needed to be remembered well, to boast about back home tomorrow.
Qiqian’er traced a line on the table with her finger and told them: “Originally there were rules for how large the imperial residence should be—the ritual texts say it must be built according to the positions of yin-yang and the five elements. Just the construction of the palace several hundred years ago alone took fifteen years and tens of thousands of laborers, working day and night through all four seasons, following the specifications of nine li for the palace, three gates on each side, nine main roads and nine cross-roads for the royal city. But then each succeeding emperor expanded it a bit more, and after all that building and rebuilding, no one really knows how big it is anymore.”
She had martial skill in her, and at night in the palace she’d found a proper spot to bound around in for quite a while.
When Qiqian’er finished speaking, a collective gasp went up around her. After a good while, the one at the next table called Madam Jin couldn’t hold back and sighed, “This—this must have cost so much gold.”
Qiqian’er didn’t quite catch on at first, until Pan Baqiao stifled a laugh, and then the laughter broke open again.
This was finally starting to feel like a proper celebration.
They genuinely believed the Golden Throne Hall was built of gold—most of the people present, like ordinary folk, truly thought this way. But the laughter had only gotten halfway through when someone at the hall entrance spoke up very seriously to explain: “My home isn’t nearly that exaggerated either. It’s true the west side uses more gold, but it’s just gold foil, and the south, being associated with fire which overcomes metal, uses the least. Most of the rooms are just like the ones here—only the materials used are somewhat grander, and there are glazed tiles added.”
The room fell silent at once. Qiqian’er looked toward the doorway, and there stood a young man dressed in an apricot-yellow robe, head wrapped in a square cloth, his face showing helpless yet good-natured amusement—somewhere between a youth and a young man, plump and fair-skinned.
This plump young man often appeared at Green Sparrow Nunnery, and occasionally accompanied Old Madam Jiang to Imperial Guard Alley. His true identity was known to no one in the whole of Imperial Guard Alley except Old Madam Chen.
At once Qiqian’er stood up, and Zhang Wanru and the others immediately rose too, straightening their clothes, and the whole group of court-ranked ladies walked to the doorway and bowed formally in greeting to the Sixth Prince.
Qiqian’er looked up and asked, “Sixth Prince, aren’t you supposed to be studying in the palace today? What brings you out here?”
The Sixth Prince smiled and waved his hand: “Sisters-in-law, no need to stand on ceremony. I have some business here.”
Madam Ren, not understanding, asked what was going on, and Qiqian’er quickly explained: “This is the current Sixth Prince. Please, do not be discourteous.”
In an instant, the room fell silent, then came a chaotic clatter of stools and tables, and soon the entire room had knelt down.
Qiqian’er sighed inwardly—wasn’t this just causing trouble?
Just as she was at a loss, a voice called out from outside the door: “Sixth Prince?!”
Guan Si’er came running at the news.
The moment the Sixth Prince saw him, he lit up with delight: “Little Seven, I’m here!”
Guan Si’er, ever sharp-tongued, complained: “Are you here to cause trouble? Does His Majesty know?”
The Sixth Prince nodded: “I know, I know. I knew you were measuring the house today, so my mother consort had me go check the storehouse to see what might be given to you—she had me pick out some things.”
With that, he walked over and, quite naturally, threw an arm around Guan Si’er’s neck, laughing: “I packed up two whole cartloads for you. Come on, come take a look.”
And just like that, the two of them walked out arm in arm, perfectly natural about it.
Once they were well away, a white-haired old matron finally stammered out: “That… that was a prince?”
Qiqian’er nodded: “Yes, that’s the current Sixth Prince.”
Gasps rippled through the room, and the old woman asked again: “How… how can he be so familiar with Third… Third…”
Qiqian’er blinked and said with perfect composure: “The two of them have been close since childhood.”
She could hardly help wishing she could go back and pick a different womb to be born from.
In truth, the old Gong family had never quite understood Guan Si’er’s actual standing—they simply assumed Third Master was some minor palace official, probably the sort who followed alongside the Emperor on the opera stage, carrying his sword. Whenever the Emperor mounted his horse in these imaginings, the gongs and drums would sound and he’d go clang, clang, clang along, handing over a five-tasseled riding crop—that was roughly the position they imagined for the Sixth Branch’s Third Master.
Ordinary folk had always felt that military officials ranked lower than civil officials.
Only a few clan elders knew the real story, but it involved some old scandal from the past that couldn’t be spoken of in detail, so the information had become quite garbled.
Still, to a merchant family, a military officer was still an officer. Nowadays, when doing business out in the world and mentioning the Sixth Branch’s Third Master, who didn’t know of him, who wasn’t aware?
It brought a great deal of face.
But this—no one could have imagined that Third Master would be so close with a prince as to practically share the same trousers.
Whatever the Gong family wives made of it, Imperial Guard Alley hadn’t lost out today—everyone went home loaded down with gifts.
By the time they got home, they heard that the Tan family had come and their gifts had been refused by Seventh Young Madam.
Qiqian’er was even more pleased with Guan Si’er’s new wife upon hearing this—no wonder, she’d been taught for a few days at the Prince’s residence back then. See, she hadn’t forgotten those skills after all.
This one, too, was secretly quite proud at heart, the type who liked to claim credit for any achievement as her own.
Only that night, when Chen Dasheng came home and had just set down his rice bowl, Yu Qingguan and a tearful Ding Yuniang came through the door.
Qiqian’er was startled to see Sister Yuniang looking like this. Chen Dasheng raised a finger and said, “Two matters. Once everyone’s here, the whole family will discuss them together.”
By “whole family,” Chen Dasheng didn’t include the other Chen brothers.
These days each had his own affairs; Chen Dayi, Chen Dazhong, and Chen Dayong each had their own web of connections, and though the brothers didn’t say it outright, there was some quiet rivalry among themselves in private. Coming and going, it was still the Old Blades who felt like true family.
It wasn’t that things had gone bad between them—it was just that… going out, whenever someone mentioned living in Imperial Guard Alley, people would inevitably say, “Oh, you’re Marquis Chen’s brother!” “Oh, you’re the little prince’s own brother!”
It wasn’t as if he himself hadn’t tried—so how had he ended up living his whole life and somehow losing himself along the way?
It just didn’t sit right.
Chen Dasheng understood how his brothers felt, and simply let things be—some things couldn’t be forced.
After Chen Dasheng finished speaking, sure enough, before long the Old Blades arrived one by one with their wives.
Once on the main road, there would always be forks that split people apart, and after that, each had their own fortunes—who could say where the road home would lead?
Once everyone was seated, Chen Dasheng finally explained to Qiqian’er: “Two matters. One is that His Majesty has named our Shoutian by name to enter the palace as a study companion. The other is that the Dou family from the neighboring Ministry of War Alley wants to match their son Dou Yonglun with our Second Daughter.”
Qiqian’er’s eyebrows shot up: “Absolutely not. That boy’s no good—spends every day loafing around Qingfeng Street, doesn’t even have a proper job, and he dares think of our Second Daughter!”
Chen Dasheng opened up a fine jar of wine, first pouring a cup for Meng Wanquan by the door, before setting the jar down to drink with the others.
Meng Wanquan had, over the years, picked up the old matriarch’s habit of smoking a pipe, and for fear of smoking up the room, generally didn’t sit inside.
Yu Qingguan nodded repeatedly in agreement with Qiqian’er, though he said modestly: “It’s not that the boy’s bad, our Second Daughter’s just ordinary too. Really, I’d like to keep the child home a few more years, but this bunch is a nuisance too—Second Daughter’s been coming home irritable ever since she turned fifteen, and her grandmother’s willing to promise her to just about anyone, and she’s still angry about it at home now, ugh!”
Chen Dasheng comforted him: “No rush on Second Daughter’s matter—if you don’t agree, the old lady can’t do anything about it. Tonight let’s mainly talk about Shoutian.”
Just as he finished, Hu Yougui cut in: “I have some news on this. It seems His Majesty just named the list, and the Second Prince wants Shoutian to go to him. That much can’t be avoided, but I think the Sixth Prince would be good—he’s close with our Little Seven too, and would look after him well.”
Chen Dasheng took the wine bowl from Cui Erdian, took a sip, and sighed: “In my view, none of the older ones will do. Shoutian’s an honest child, not as capable of holding his own as his brother. As the youngest, well, every family’s the same in that regard—it’d be best and safest to send him to the Ninth Prince instead.”
The moment he said this, the whole room fell silent. After a good while, Yu Qingguan spoke up somewhat reluctantly: “Chief, is that suitable? The deposed empress only just died a few days ago—though it hasn’t implicated Consort Jing, she’s still from the Cao family. And the Ninth Prince is frail in health too. Shoutian’s a bit thick-skinned about these things, he might not read the situation well at all.”
Ding Yuniang stared fixedly at her husband’s lips, understanding what he meant, and her eyes welled up with tears.
So he really had to go?
Their Shoutian had been at home studying obediently, going to school right by their doorstep, sheltered from wind and sun—how had it come to this, that with one word from above, he’d have to leave home to go serve someone?
She didn’t want this.
Cui Erdian had married Madam Chai, who spent her days mixing with her father-in-law’s social circle, and picking things up over the years, he’d grown sharper. Hearing Yu Qingguan’s words, he scoffed: “Second Brother, are you being foolish? He has to go either way. As for the people above, you don’t dare get involved with them either—the Cao family’s main line has fallen, but Young Madam Cao’s side is actually safer for it now. Every consort in every palace has some clan behind her, cousins and relatives trailing along.
It’s only her who has no one to rely on—His Majesty dislikes no one more than those surnamed Cao these days. Don’t you see it? She’s the one seeking safety. We’re already in the palace’s affairs—what are you afraid of? If Shoutian goes to Prince Xuanhe’s side, he won’t suffer any grievance either. I know you want to place the child with the Sixth Prince, but—”
He looked around the room and gave a cold laugh: “Behind the Sixth Prince stands Consort Xiao, and this woman could very possibly… become the next Empress.”
Chen Dasheng glanced at Qiqian’er, who closed her eyes to listen for a moment, then shook her head at him.
Her hearing was far better than Chen Dasheng’s.
Seeing it was safe, Chen Dasheng then spoke seriously to the room: “The next Empress—it really won’t be Consort Xiao.”
At these words, the whole room fell silent.
After a long while, Tong Jintai finally swallowed and asked: “How do you mean, Elder Brother?”
Chen Dasheng sighed: “This time too many of the great clans have fallen, and there are some unfavorable rumors going around. To stabilize the court, His Majesty’s new Empress might well be surnamed Pei.”
This news was rather shocking—Consort Xiao wasn’t a bad sort.
Hu Yougui said somewhat indignantly: “Here we go, being emperor’s got no meaning to it either—calling her ‘A’Duo’ so affectionately, and I thought he actually cared for her. Consort Xiao must be devastated over this.”
But Chen Dasheng looked up and said with certainty: “Not at all! Consort Xiao isn’t the least bit upset. That woman, I think, has already figured everything out and stopped hoping for anything, never asking for anything either. But I noticed the Sixth Prince seemed rather upset…”
At this, Chen Dasheng laughed and said: “In the end, he’s still His Majesty’s son. He used to come to the south gate every day to tell us immortal stories, but look at him now—he’s been studying hard, and hasn’t been skipping court sessions either.”
Hu Yougui sighed: “That’s right. Ever since the deposed empress affair at the start of the year, he’s been dragging his schoolwork over to His Majesty every day, currying favor—probably hoping to do something for his mother. Consort Xiao’s been beyond good to him; that’s about as much as a birth mother could hope to be.”
The room fell quiet, and several of the wives present, thinking of all the messy affairs of the imperial family, felt their own simple lives were unusually comfortable by comparison.
All around, whose household head wasn’t keeping several concubines warming his bed—even Zhang Wanru’s own father had taken a concubine just last year—yet the Old Blades all seemed rather indifferent to the matter.
They were particularly fond of peace and quiet, living domineering yet solitary lives, simply not wanting so many people cluttering up the household.
Finally, Yu Qingguan spoke up, saying to Chen Dasheng: “Then, Chief, you’re sharper than me—I’ll entrust my nephew to you. Let’s go with Prince Xuanhe’s side.”
Chen Dasheng nodded and smiled: “Alright then. I’ll mention it to my father later. Really, you should feel at ease—if my father arranges it, it’ll surely turn out this way regardless. A frail prince will eventually go to his fiefdom, and our Shoutian, having grown up alongside him since childhood, will surely be greatly relied upon there too—that’s a good future.”
Yu Qingguan, satisfied, said: “Of course. So many great families’ sons in Yanjing are all waiting for such a position—just the Central Secretariat alone, with its twenty positions for Secretariat Drafters, everyone’s fighting tooth and nail for it. How many great clan heirs are in that mix—where do I even rank? These days it’s not like before, where he could just be placed straight into an entry-level post like his brother. Going to the fiefdom is good too—at least it’s a respectable way to support the family.”
With that, the matter was settled.
It was Second Sister Ma, who’d been silent until then, who spoke up: “Our family’s business is easily settled, but I see the old Tan family stirring quite a bit—His Majesty’s been going around lately seemingly always with that Tan Er brat in tow, practically raising him as his own son.”
Chen Dasheng nodded, took another bowl of wine, and laughed: “What’s there to worry about? We saw this coming long ago. Even with how much His Majesty favors us now—once someone dies, whoever comes after is the good one. Tan Er and His Majesty were close as brothers before; that boy was trained up by that old scoundrel Tan Shouyi. Everyone had better be careful.”
Several of the Old Blades nodded together, drinking a bit more wine, when suddenly Hu Yougui chuckled and said: “If that’s the case, then that Tan Er is rather pitiable now—no share of the inherited title, no place in the Central Secretariat either. I heard from Liu Daya that he wants to get on the list for study companions, but genuinely can’t find anywhere to pull strings. Why don’t we… help stir things up a bit? Why should the second son always get the short end of the stick? What do you brothers say?”
Among the Old Blades, if it came to being clever, Chen Dasheng had the sharpest mind; but for cunning, it was really Hu Yougui.
Don’t be fooled by his handsome face—that twisting mind of his could turn eight corners.
Chen Dasheng laughed and reached over to pour him wine: “Alright, how do you plan to stir things up?”
Hu Yougui grinned, drank the wine from his elder brother, and said: “I’ve been going to poetry gatherings often with the Seventh Prince’s uncle…”
The room immediately burst into stifled laughter.
No helping it—none of them had read many books, yet he happened to have a face perfectly suited for poetry and tea gatherings; whenever Hu Yougui showed up at these events, there were always people lining up to write poems and odes in his praise.
The man was the type who’d go wherever there was an invitation, as long as it didn’t cost him money, and he’d play along freely, mixing all sorts of connections both high and low.
Hu Yougui, face perfectly straight, kicked Cui Erdian beside him, since he was laughing the most obnoxiously.
Then he sneered: “What, you all want to go too? No one’s inviting you. I can’t even save up these few hundred coins a month, can I?”
Qiqian’er, overhearing this, protested from the kang: “Don’t go embarrassing yourself out there. I already told the accountant, you can draw as much as you all want. Besides, the accounts are all separated now, and you’re still trying to pin this five hundred coins business on me—I won’t take the blame for that.”
Chen Dasheng smiled sweetly at his wife: “Exactly, my wife’s the most generous—it’s these fellows who are stingy.”
Having flattered his wife, he turned back to glare at Hu Yougui: “Get on with the actual matter.”
Hu Yougui bared his teeth and shook his head: “Tch! I knew it. Fine, the actual matter—I’ll go through Earl Xin’an’s family, mention in passing that Tan Er isn’t bad. His family holds military power, so what if he’s the second son—everyone’s fighting for a spot anyway.
You all know how these great households work—who knows who’ll end up staying in favor? At the very least we ought to put him on the table, so to speak, so he can sit down and gamble at all. Honestly, I think Tan Weizheng’s actually quite capable—just his name was picked wrong, always having to fight for everything. Whatever his brothers can do, he can do too. Placing him by the Seventh Prince’s side would suit him well. What do you think, Elder Brother?”
Chen Dasheng thought it over and nodded: “Then go ahead and try. No need to force it.”
Hu Yougui smiled confidently: “Not difficult at all. Small matter.”
Having finished with the serious business, Qiqian’er coughed and said to Chen Dasheng: “Oh, right, one more thing—there’s a happy occasion coming up in our household this month too.”
Chen Dasheng’s teeth ached at this. He waved his hand, not wanting to bring it up, but the brothers were too curious to let it go.
He stayed quiet, sitting by the door smoking his pipe, until Meng Wanquan, who’d said nothing the whole time, gave it away: “Oh, that’s nothing much—his second sister-in-law feels the family’s short on heirs, and insists Second Brother Chen take a concubine.”
Everyone drew a sharp breath, unable to fathom what Madam Kou was thinking.
Together, they all gave a disdainful “tsk”—in truth, none of them thought much of it.
Having been in official circles for seven years now, if something like this still surprised anyone, they hadn’t learned much. It was like a shoe dropping overhead—everyone knew it would happen sooner or later, and everyone understood that Imperial Guard Alley’s Chen family would inevitably go down this road eventually. They just hadn’t expected it to be the unassuming Second Brother Chen who went first.
After a good while, it was Madam Lu who spoke the plain truth: “Madam Kou suffered greatly with her last pregnancy. Their branch of the Chen family has thin numbers as it is, and Madam Kou cares a lot about these things—afraid the children won’t have enough support when they grow up. Just mind your own business.”
Cui Erdian, curious, asked Qiqian’er: “Sister-in-law, has it been decided?”
Qiqian’er nodded: “Yes. Once our Seventh’s affairs are settled, the Second House will hold a small banquet.”
“Where’s the concubine from?”
Qiqian’er let the thread she was winding fall still, and looked at Cui Erdian: “Where from? Heh, you’ll never guess. My second sister-in-law personally went to my second brother’s superior’s household and asked for a young widow from a side branch of the family—understand now?”
Everyone gasped at this. Now that was something.