Human affairs are like water, and worldly matters like clouds.

It never would have occurred to Fourth Master or Fifth Master that the clan members who had only yesterday deferred to them, might today dare to speak this way.

The summoned clan elders — teeth loose and hair falling out — nonetheless chewed over every word with relentless precision, expounding with great confidence on everything from Lord Shang Yang’s promulgation of the “Household Division Decree” all the way through successive dynasties’ codes and rituals of propriety. They cited how, for families of flourishing lineage, it was universally required that separate residences be established for different branches — beneficial alike to the prosperity of each household and to mutual assistance between them… After a great deal of elaborate and ornate rhetoric, the whole argument could be summed up in a single sentence: once a household had been divided, each party should live separately.

You mention the late Marquis? After a parent’s passing, brothers who are close in feeling and who wish to live together — that does happen. But while it is common to hear of someone dependent on parents or elder uncles, and of younger brothers dependent on their eldest brother, there is no precedent for uncles living as dependents of a nephew.

Oh? You say the Lady is still living? But this second wife, your eldest sister-in-law, is considerably younger than you two uncles. You must on no account claim that your reluctance to vacate the Marquis Residence is out of “attachment” to your sister-in-law.

You mention Gu Tingyu? He was of frail constitution, unable to sustain the dignity of the Marquis Residence — the need for his elders’ support was understandable enough. But Gu Tingye is alive and kicking.

The Marquis Residence could not have arrived at its present “achievements” without your active participation over the years. All these years of your support, your assistance, your devoted care — thank you, thank you sincerely. Now you may honorably retire from your service. Your illustrious conduct and noble character will remain forever in our hearts.

Farewell, take care on your way out, don’t let us see you off.

Fifth Master trembled with rage and slumped in his armchair, unable to rise. Fourth Master slammed the table and leapt to his feet: “Old or young, stay if you want to stay, leave if you want to leave — since when is it anyone else’s place to point fingers?!”

He had always been a blustering type, and once he worked himself into reckless aggression, he pointed at the group of shrinking figures seated at the back and broke into a torrent of abuse: “You shameless lot! In the old days you clung to us like plasters, living off the scraps from the old man’s table. Now that the old man has fallen from favor, you come here to kick us while we’re down! I’ll tell you this — I’m not leaving! If that little Ye has any ability, let him come drive us out himself!”

Very imposing, very spirited — but unfortunately, for every strategem there is a counter-move.

Before long, Gu Tingxuan entered from outside, covered in cold sweat, and whispered a few words into his father’s ear. Fourth Master’s expression instantly underwent a dramatic transformation. He gnashed his teeth and stamped his foot for some time, then collapsed back into his chair, deflated, and stopped arguing.

Such a sudden and complete reversal naturally had no mysterious cause. Minglan did not even need to ask — Fourth House let the information leak out on its own.

It happened that Gu Tingbing had been sentenced to exile, but while the distance was the same at a thousand li, the direction made all the difference. A thousand li north of the capital led to beyond the frontier — a land of ice and desolation, harsh human conditions, and frequent raids by the Jie barbarians. The question there was not one of living well, but of returning home with one’s head still attached; one’s ancestral graves would have to be smoking with great fortune for that.

But a thousand li to the west was an entirely different matter. Since Emperor Wu had pacified the Nurgan Regional Military Commission, the central and southern regions of Shanxi had been largely pacified and stabilized. With decades of imperial administration now bearing fruit — cleared farmland, stationed troops guarding the borders — even further west there were now villages and county towns. Apart from the somewhat lacking entertainment industry (the working women of the pleasure quarters averaged fifteen years of age and above), all else was tolerable.

Save for the few cases where the place of exile was explicitly stated in the imperial verdict (as was the sorry fate of a certain Comrade Lin Chong), those receiving lighter sentences still had some room for negotiation. And it was precisely for this reason that every year when the court handed down sentences of exile, the Board of Punishments and the relevant offices would see a roaring trade — visitors nearly broke down their doors (such a desirable government post indeed).

Gu Tingxuan was a conscientious elder brother. Throughout these days he had been running all over the place with silver in hand, trying every means to secure for Gu Tingbing a more comfortable journey into exile: he could be freed from shackles, could travel by carriage, could even bring two family servants along, and the destination had been arranged to be a relatively stable small town in the northwest — no need for sleeping rough and eating raw. Things had been smoothed over to near completion, when suddenly a complication arose.

The matter of the rebel prince had implicated many parties, and quite a number of great families had some degree of involvement. Among them were cases very similar to Gu Tingbing’s — somewhere between light and serious in nature: too ingratiating to be innocent, not conspiratorial enough to be fully culpable, short of actual treason. Some of these families still had power and connections, and in the course of their own desperate maneuvering, they had inadvertently dragged the Gu family back into the light.

Let us ask: in ancient times, what crimes were considered most grave? Betraying the country to the enemy — that is, treason — and rebellion — that is, the intent to overthrow the state.

Generally speaking, in the rigidly hierarchical society of ancient times, if one occupied the uppermost circles of the power pyramid, had a strong background and sufficient confidence, one might get away with forcibly seizing a few commoner women, trampling over civilian fields with one’s horse, or even helping oneself to a few amounts of public funds. These were manageable — at most, one forfeited one’s head, and having one’s family confiscated and exiled was the upper limit of the punishment (and for imperial relatives, even that last part could often be waived).

Only those two offenses above — once committed — truly left no room for negotiation. Extermination of the family was non-negotiable. Whether it was nine clans or ten depended entirely on the Emperor’s mood at the time.

And the rebel prince had committed nothing less than rebellion.

From this angle, the punishment handed down to the Gu family was in fact rather lenient. After all, they had genuinely run errands for the rebel prince and brokered connections on his behalf.

The Gu family had only one member implicated — Gu Tingbing. Other families had fathers, uncles, and multiple nephews caught up in it together. Only a few years of exile? Other families were looking at sentences of ten years or more. Naturally these families were aggrieved.

What do you mean, the Gu family only procured some beautiful women? Our family only helped arrange a few troupes of performers and entertainers! Does selling one’s performance arts carry a greater threat to society than selling one’s body? Is there any conscience and heavenly principle left?! Families who had procured young men and male entertainers also strongly expressed their indignation! This was naked discrimination against a particular preference — surely the law should be applied equally?!

— Well. The above was Minglan’s own embellishment in her imagination. Having heard the fascinating gossip gathered by Xiaotao, she collapsed face-first onto the daybed and laughed silently into the mattress without restraint, utterly without shame.

Once the matter was aired out, the Board of Punishments found itself with a headache.

The Gu family’s case had been personally decreed by the Emperor, but the specific sentencing had been handled by the Board. When they had first received the imperial order, they had tried to divine the Emperor’s intentions and given Gu Tingbing a lenient sentence. But now… if the affair grew into a larger scandal and a few zealous censors got involved — “So the Board of Punishments dishes out different treatment depending on who it is serving!” — it would be troublesome indeed. Those explicitly exempted by imperial decree were untouchable, but those who had already been convicted could certainly have their punishments increased.

Within a few days, word came from the Board of Punishments. It was said that Gu Tingbing’s sentence was to be re-evaluated: either an additional two thousand li of exile in a high-risk frontier zone, or an additional seven years, rounding the total up to a nice round number of ten — no discounts. And Fourth Master was to pay a substantial sum as a “redemption fee.”

This time, Fourth Master was truly frightened.

If he wanted to spend silver, he had already sunk quite a lot into it, and before him lay only a bottomless pit with no guarantee of results. If he wanted to simply give up, he had already had his hereditary sinecure stripped away; as a common man with neither rank nor office, he could not even get through the front gates of the Board of Punishments.

When news arrived, Liu Yiniang and Tingbing’s wife — Bing Er — immediately fell into fainting and stupefaction respectively. Once they came to, they both threw themselves at Fourth Master, begging him to save them: clinging to his sleeves and legs, weeping and wailing around the clock. Fourth Master was helpless; too proud to go himself, he sent his eldest son to seek Gu Tingye’s help.

No one knew what Gu Tingye said inside the study, but Gu Tingxuan came out looking dejected. When he went back and reported what had been said, the enraged Fourth Master unleashed a torrent of abuse on him.

Things dragged on like this for two more days. On one such day, Rong Jie’er and Xian Jie’er were standing in the room, reciting the “Peach Blossom Spring” in clear, bright voices, while Minglan sat above them listening with a smile. The clean, elegant prose of that piece — tranquil, graceful, and serene — had always been a favorite of Minglan’s for its character and spirit. The two little girls’ voices were clear as jade, their faces pretty and sweet, and the whole room was filled with gentle warmth. Even Xian Jie’er’s wet nurse at the side couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

When they finished, Minglan nodded in warm approval. Xian Jie’er, obedient as ever, leaned over and clung to Minglan’s sleeve, coaxing: “Second Aunt, we’ve recited our passage — you have to keep your word!”

Minglan smiled radiantly and stroked Xian Jie’er’s little cheek: “Of course I will keep my word. I’ll have Danju bring the cage over later — and I’ll have Steward Hao build a little house for the white rabbits. How does that sound?”

Rong Jie’er, squirming shyly beside Xian Jie’er, eyes brightening: “Could it be… two storeys? With grass and flowers on top?” Minglan laughed and feigned sternness: “Certainly. But in that case, you two will have to accomplish a little more first.”

“Yes, yes, yes! You name a passage, and I’ll make sure Rong Jie’er recites it!” Xian Jie’er had already answered eagerly. Rong Jie’er, too, was visibly eager, her small face flushed and rosy, her brilliant smile full of bright-eyed, wholehearted innocence.

A warmth rose in Minglan’s heart.

If this were her own child, she would have long since grabbed the child by the collar and roared “You little brat, are you going to behave or not?!” or something equally along the lines of “If you don’t study properly I’ll skin you alive!” — why would she go to all this exhausting effort? Rong Jie’er had never had any fondness for books, and her stubborn temper made her genuinely difficult to guide. But at last, things were on some kind of track.

Just as she was seeing the two little ladies off, there was a clamor outside before she could even catch her breath.

“Bing Er looks very ill — Mistress, you should be on your guard.” Luzhi slipped in at a quick pace and reported in a low voice.

It was the women of Fourth House, arriving in force. Minglan’s heart immediately went on alert; she braced herself and rallied her spirits for the confrontation.

She received her guests and they sat down facing one another.

In truth, Luzhi had understated things considerably. It wasn’t merely that Bing Er looked unwell — the entire female contingent of Fourth House looked haggard and wretched.

After the customary tea and pleasantries, and without even waiting for the maids to withdraw, Bing Er urgently began recounting the situation with Gu Tingbing and pleaded for Minglan’s help. Minglan listened but did not respond. She only waved her hand to dismiss the servants, leaving only Luzhi and Xiaotao in the inner chamber as backup — in case things turned physical, she would have a bodyguard on hand.

“Second Sister-in-law.” Minglan lowered her head and gently blew on her tea. The pale yellow bean-paste green powder-enamel lidded bowl drifted its surface of amber-colored ripples in the gentle stir of her spoon. She said warmly: “I said as much last time: what the men do outside is not my place to interfere in. If the Marquis chooses to act, that is well and good. If he cannot, then the Marquis must have his reasons for not being able to. Second Sister-in-law, coming to speak with me about this will be of no use.”

Bing Er snapped like the last strand of a broken string. She stood abruptly, eyes bloodshot and red-veined, glaring at Minglan: “You can say something like that?! Do you need our entire branch to die off before you’ll be satisfied?! Very well, very well — I’ll go die right now!”

Minglan cast her a glance, unmoved, and continued to smile pleasantly: “Second Sister-in-law speaks in jest again. Second Elder Brother is still perfectly well, yet here you are speaking of dying — won’t you think of how your several children would manage?”

The threat of death had no effect on Minglan whatsoever.

Fourth Mistress looked exhausted and sat in silence without speaking. Tingxuan’s wife — Xuan Da — seemed to be nursing a grievance of her own and was deliberately not stepping in to mediate. Seeing this turn of events, she scolded Bing Er in a loud voice: “Sit back down! What business is it of yours to be venting your anger at your sister-in-law? As the saying goes, a married woman follows her husband — the Second Young Master has always had his own mind about things; what does that have to do with our sister-in-law? All this talk of dying and living — is it not unlucky?!”

Bing Er had no real desire to die, and gladly took this offered exit. She slumped back into the chair sobbing: “Then what are we to do?!” And through her sobs, she wept toward Minglan: “I know my husband wronged the Marquis. But even without consideration for one person’s sake, there is the matter of another’s — they share the same ancestor after all. How can one bear to watch one’s own cousin suffer? The Marquis is being far too heartless, refusing to lift a finger…”

With a bang, Minglan set her teacup down hard on the small side table, her face turning as cold as frost: “Second Sister-in-law, mind your words and your conscience! What do you mean by ‘refusing to lift a finger’?!” She straightened her spine and stood, her gaze sweeping across the faces of all the women present before coming to rest on Bing Er. She said with a cold smile: “Second Sister-in-law, go out and ask around — those who were caught up in the same matter as our family: how have their punishments fallen? Some have had their households confiscated, some have been exiled, some have been beheaded! And those sentenced to exile — how many people have been dragged in, and for how many years?!”

Her voice was sharp, her words carrying an edge of anger. Minglan stepped forward and fixed Bing Er with a pressing stare: “In our family today: Fourth Uncle is untouched, Fifth Uncle is untouched, and the various brothers are all untouched. In total, only one person has been implicated — and even he has been managed and maneuvered from all sides so as to receive the lightest possible sentence! And who do you think did all that running around and spending of effort?! Second Sister-in-law dismisses it all in a single breath!”

Her beautiful eyes, wide and long, narrowed into an expression of unmistakable contempt: “I once thought the Marquis lacked human warmth — but looking at it now, doing good deeds apparently does not guarantee gratitude. Only complaints.”

Having said this, she turned away in feigned indignation and refused to speak further.

In situations like this, it was ordinarily Xuan Da who would step in and smooth things over — but today she, too, seemed to be in a mood, and deliberately left everyone hanging without opening her mouth. Bing Er, seeing this state of affairs, swung around and flung herself at Xuan Da, clutching and pulling at her, wailing: “Sister-in-law, won’t you say something?! You and our sister-in-law have always gotten along — surely you can put in a word or two! You cannot simply watch your brother-in-law suffer!”

Xuan Da, whose sleeve was being tugged to a creaking protest, angrily shoved her sister-in-law off and replied without warmth: “What can I say? I am nothing more than a sister-in-law from a different branch. It is not as though I were an immortal grand patriarch!”

Bing Er was boiling with frustration and had nowhere to let it out. She immediately turned and screamed at Xuan Da: “I know exactly what you’re plotting! You and your scheming husband are trying to get my husband killed so you can take the whole family’s property for yourselves!”

Xuan Da also lost her temper. She leapt to her feet and yanked several sheets of paper from her sleeve, slapping them down hard on the table, and shouted: “Come and see what this is!” Everyone’s eyes turned to look, and they saw they were several colorful pawn tickets.

Xuan Da was livid, her face a crimson red, the veins in her neck standing out: “These past days, silver was needed everywhere to grease the wheels for Second Brother-in-law, yet everything these years has been in Second Brother-in-law’s hands — we haven’t gotten a single cent ourselves! Now that silver is urgently needed, Father-in-law keeps crying about being short of money, and so my blockhead husband had no choice but to pawn our household belongings!”

The more she said, the angrier she became, and finally she declared in fury: “I’ll say this to Second Sister-in-law — over all these years, I have not taken so much as a needle and thread from your hands. Fine, fine! This sister-in-law has done more than her share. You’d better keep your mouth clean, because if you push me too far, none of us will have any peace!”

Bing Er was struck speechless. She had been unwilling to spend her own silver, wanting to preserve some capital for herself and her children, and had been counting on the communal household funds — but who would have known Fourth Master himself would be equally miserly? She wept freely, for once at a loss for words.

As Fourth House began to squabble among themselves, Fourth Mistress could no longer bear to sit idle. She straightened up and addressed Minglan with an expression full of earnest appeal: “Minglan, although you have not been long in this house, I can see that you have a genuinely kind heart. Now that your Second Cousin-in-law is in this state, and with children still so young — do you truly have no compassion at all?”

Minglan looked up at Fourth Mistress with a peculiar expression in her eyes: “May I ask, Fourth Aunt — when the Marquis left this household, do you know how much silver he had on him? Was there anyone to take him in once he was outside? The jianghu is full of violent and fearless men — was he safe? All those years — where was he? What was he doing? In all of this vast Marquis Residence, did anyone know? Did anyone ask after him?”

She posed one question, then paused, each word like a chisel cutting into stone, sharp and penetrating. To put it bluntly, those years Gu Tingye could have died out there on the road, with perhaps not even anyone to collect his body. Minglan pressed her contempt back inward and said simply and coolly: “Second Cousin-in-law Bing at least has his parents worrying for him and his elder brother and sister-in-law running errands on his behalf. That is already far better than what the Marquis had back then.”

This line of questioning left Fourth Mistress without a single answer. After a long pause, she dropped her eyes, showing a trace of shame, and said quietly: “I know… that boy suffered great injustice back then.”

Minglan’s lips curved into a faint smile, carrying just a trace of mockery: “This niece-in-law feels it is better for her to first feel compassion for her own husband before worrying about other people’s husbands.” Her reserves of sympathy were limited and were distributed only to a select few.

Bing Er, seeing that even Fourth Mistress had nothing to say, began to grow desperate and was about to speak. But Minglan turned her head and got there first: “Second Sister-in-law, let me speak plainly. Given the ‘bond’ between the Marquis and Second Cousin-in-law Bing, he has already gone to the utmost limits of duty.”

She deliberately laid emphasis on the word “bond.” Bing Er paused, looking momentarily confused. Minglan, watching her expression, continued with a gentle smile: “At this point, Second Sister-in-law, rather than coming here to petition the Marquis, it would be better to go back and petition Fourth Uncle instead.”

“Pet… petition for what?” Bing Er’s eyes flickered.

Minglan felt inward contempt, and said lightly: “Second Sister-in-law, feigning ignorance when you know perfectly well — that is not a universal remedy.”

As for Fifth House, things were considerably more straightforward. They had already begun packing up their belongings and household in full and would likely move out within ten or fifteen days.

With things spoken to this point, anyone who was not being deliberately obtuse could understand what Minglan meant.

Bing Er slumped back into her seat, defeated. She had no desire to have the household divided either. It was good to live under a great tree’s shade — especially now that even Fourth Master’s hereditary sinecure had been stripped. Xuan Da kept her lips pressed shut and said not another word.

Fourth Mistress looked from one daughter-in-law to the other, let out a long sigh, and took Minglan’s hand in hers. In a voice full of sorrowful appeal, she said: “I know there is resentment in your heart, niece. These years… your Fourth Uncle and Cousin Bing truly behaved badly. But, Minglan…” Her voice cracked with emotion. “We will certainly move away — but could we, for the sake of your little sister Tingying, delay just a year or two longer? She is close to marriageable age now, and if she could be wed from the Marquis Residence, then…”

Minglan composed her thoughts and turned to face her, softening her voice: “Fourth Aunt, I understand your difficulty. But even two years — let alone two months — the Marquis would not consent, I’m afraid. Please do not blame him for being heartless. Only think of those two matters involving money from back then.”

Fourth Mistress abruptly raised her head, faltering: “What matters…?”

Minglan met her eyes steadily and said quietly: “One matter involving the Red Sleeve Pavilion. One involving Wansheng Money House.”

Bing Er suddenly looked up, her voice rising to a sharp pitch: “That’s right — it was my husband who exposed those two matters, who named and implicated Tingye — what of it? Is he really going to hold a grudge over that? He…”

She couldn’t continue, because Minglan’s gaze, cold and sharp as a blade, had fixed upon her.

Minglan kept her eyes locked on Bing Er and said, word by deliberate word: “I will not speak today of who was right and who was wrong in those matters. But what truly happened — Heaven knows, Earth knows, Second Cousin-in-law Bing knows, and there are others who know as well. If Second Sister-in-law’s conscience is clear, she is welcome to go before the Bodhisattva and swear an oath, laying the blame on the black-hearted and cowardly party!”

Bing Er felt a surge of guilt. She had not yet entered the household when the first matter occurred, but the second she was aware of. At the time, she had even quietly felt relieved that there was someone to take the blame — their branch could avoid both spending silver and receiving punishment.

Xuan Da opened her eyes wide. She had always been somewhat hazy about these matters, but now, having mulled them over several times in her mind, she gradually arrived at a clear understanding, and thereafter looked at Bing Er with increasing contempt.

In her heart, Fourth Mistress sighed. She had witnessed both matters with her own eyes. Even if she had not known all the details at the time, she had come to understand the full picture later. The conduct of the father and son of Fourth House had truly been contemptible. It was not surprising that Gu Tingye carried the grudge. Back then, she herself had kept to a stance of self-preservation and had never spoken up for Gu Tingye — what right did she have to demand anything of him now?

“Can it be… that this enmity is to be fixed and settled forever?” Fourth Mistress asked in a trembling voice.

Minglan exhaled a long sigh and spoke gently, in a low and unhurried tone: “It is precisely because we do not wish this enmity to be forever fixed that we must live apart. The Marquis is burning with grievances at present and must first let off some steam. But in time, as the years pass and the children grow up, and grandchildren fill the halls… after all, you cannot write two different characters for Gu. The Marquis has a kind heart — he would not carry a grudge against younger generations.”

She herself had no wish to make things difficult for those who were innocent. Even though Gu Tingying was the daughter of Fourth Master, Minglan still hoped she would be able to marry happily and peacefully.

Hearing the word “younger generations,” Xuan Da’s heart gave a sudden lurch. The sole concern of her life was her several sons. In fact, Minglan had already leaked a piece of news to her a little while ago: Gu Tingye had arranged a post in the Qianwei Guard for Xuan Da’s eldest son, Gu Shixu.

With an uncle to help promote his career, and his own efforts layered on top, there would at least be some stability and security going forward. But this matter could not be spoken of now — if it came out, she would immediately be denounced by the entire Fourth House as a traitor. It would be better to announce it after the residences had been separated. It was also for this reason that Gu Tingxuan felt guilty toward his father and brother and had been running himself ragged trying to help them.

Xuan Da had long since seen that the bad blood between Gu Tingye and her father-in-law had grown deep and bitter. If they continued to live together, quarreling and clashing every day, Gu Tingxuan would be caught in the middle: stand with his father, and offend Gu Tingye; stand with Gu Tingye, and be accused of lacking filial piety.

Better to live apart. The way she saw it, once they lived separately, Gu Tingye and Fourth Master would hardly see one another anymore. With Gu Tingye bearing Gu Tingxuan’s past kindnesses in mind, and with Xuan Da and Minglan keeping up regular visits, they would actually receive far more help and support in the future.

So from the very beginning, she had been in favor of separating the residences.

After this conversation, even someone as thickheaded as Fourth Master understood that the game was up. After dragging things out for four more days and seeing that the Lady remained “confined to bed” and had made no effort to speak on behalf of Fourth House or Fifth House, he gave up at last. He sent word to the clan elders that he would move out.

And so Fourth House began their own bustling preparations to pack up and depart.

Decades of intertwined lives had to be carefully untangled — finances to be divided, servants to be sorted out, what to take and what to leave behind. One great turmoil of flying chickens and jumping dogs ensued, and for a time the Gu Residence was filled with commotion.

The autumn light was mild and lovely, the air dry and fresh. With the windows thrown wide open, Minglan half-reclined against a soft pale violet cloud-patterned resting cushion. She held a warm cup of crystal pear and rock sugar silver-ear broth, spooning it slowly and unhurriedly, a thin, wry smile floating at the corners of her lips.

Although she had met the late Marquis — now departed — she imagined he must have been a kind and generous patriarch, which was precisely why he had kept his two younger brothers sheltered under his wing for so long, and why those brothers had grown up as naively unworldly as they had.

These two uncles: one blusteringly aggressive, who could only throw his weight around at home; one with an inflated sense of personal dignity, looking down on all beneath him.

If even one of them had possessed any real worldliness, the moment Gu Tingye began his rise to power would have been the moment to think about how to make peace, how to offer humble apologies, and how to smooth over past grievances. Instead, what did they do? They went on flexing their authority as elders, trying to exploit him on one hand while clinging to their dignity on the other. And so… what good was all that bluster and shouting? Without Gu Tingye even having to lift a finger, they had already been unable to hold on.

In the face of overwhelming power, their snarling and clawing was utterly pathetic.

Besides, in seeking the division and separation of the residences, Gu Tingye had the full weight of propriety behind him.

Since the Qin and Han dynasties, this great empire of the Central Plains had been built on Confucian foundations, and those foundations revered one principle above all: the unity of the seat of power.

At the level of the state, this principle manifested as “Heaven has no two suns; a country has no two masters.” At the level of succession, it manifested as the system of primogeniture. At the level of marriage, it manifested as the system of one principal wife and multiple concubines.

Through countless lessons written in blood, the ancients clearly understood that once the seat of power was divided, the inevitable result was endless strife and conflict. This was precisely why, from Emperor Jing of Han to Emperor Wu of Han, the suppression of the vassal states had been absolutely necessary — uncles, older brothers, male cousins, and nephews had to be brought under control, one by one, over and over again, until they were thoroughly subdued. This was precisely why philandering ancient men proactively established the rules governing wives and concubines, using ritual codes and social norms to impose order on themselves, so that the inner household could remain under the principal wife’s management and they could attend to affairs outside without worrying about fires breaking out at home.

And so it was with household divisions. While parents are alive, sons may choose not to divide the household — because the father, as patriarch, has sufficient authority to resolve conflicts within the family. While the elder brother is alive, younger brothers may remain undivided — because there is the saying “an elder brother is like a father.” But what happens once even the elder brother has passed?

When a nephew becomes the master of the household, conflicts within the family create an impossible situation: according to clan ritual law, the nephew has the authority to make decisions; but according to the customs of respecting one’s elders, the nephew ought to defer to his uncles’ opinions.

And so the unity of the seat of power is disrupted — which is deeply harmful to any family.

For this reason, Fourth Master’s insistence on remaining was without any basis in ritual law. Combined with Gu Tingye’s current power and authority, Fourth Master was doomed to fail. Gu Tingye did not even need to take any action — he only needed to watch coldly from the sidelines.

The true difficulty had always been the Lady.

Her reputation was consistently excellent, and even if people privately suspected her motives, if she were to come forward in the role of elder sister-in-law, weeping pathetically — a picture of helpless vulnerability, terrified of being bullied by a heartless stepson — and beg the clan elders in tears to allow the two uncles to remain, that would have been a genuinely thorny problem.

“This transaction — we must first conclude it with her. Everything after that is no longer the real difficulty.”

Gu Tingye’s handsome face was inscrutable, his deep eyes like the ocean, suffused with boundless cold indifference.

Days of waiting, step by step — watching the Lady withdraw into silence and stop managing the matter, which was tantamount to her tacit consent. Only then did Gu Tingye raise the matter of dividing the residences. Without depleting eight hundred of his own troops, he had inflicted a thousand casualties on the enemy.

He was born with a violently fierce and direct temperament — yet the world, yielding as sand, soft and tenacious, had ground him through countless hardships and ordeals, slowly tempering that blazing torrent into the deep, inexhaustible patience of a bottomless abyss.

“Your nature is straightforward and honest — underhanded schemes and methods are difficult to guard against.” He murmured in her ear, his gaze as deep and calm as the sea, his eyes full of tenderness and reluctance to see her harmed. “With so many people around, there will always be complications. Once these miscellaneous entanglements are cleared away, you can take your time and sort things out properly.”

Minglan understood what he was worried about. He was afraid he could not protect her.

Her heart was suffused with a profound warmth. She stretched out her arms and wrapped them around his neck, pressing close against his slightly stubbled cheek, the warmth seeping all the way through to her heart.

On the path of household intrigue, she — lacking the natural gift for it — still had much to learn.