He Xiao was, after all, a scholar — a man who had never dealt with ruffians in his entire life. Seeing all his attendants had fled, he was badly frightened himself, and hastily cupped his hands in a bow. “I am nothing but a poor scholar — neither a merchant nor an official — where would I get money? Gentlemen, we have no grievance between us, so why waylay me on the road? If you don’t mind, let us make friends. Should any of you come to Luoyang in the future, feel free to come to my door. I will provide fine wine and food, and treat you all handsomely.”

But those men had no patience for such talk, and one spat in contempt. “This little wretch has a deep-laid scheme — he’s trying to lure us to Luoyang! If we actually went, do you think there’d be anything good waiting for us? He’d report us to the authorities and have us arrested for certain!”

“Stop wasting words on him. Hand over all your money. If you have none, we’ll strip your carriage apart and drag out your guts to tie up the horses. I want to see whether this fellow’s heart and liver are as black as his face — then we’ll peel off his skin and see how many layers thick it is, since it must be thick enough for a horse to gallop across.”

The crowd roared with laughter. He Xiao was both furious and mortified. By chance, there was a sword for self-defense inside the carriage, so he grabbed it and leapt down, intending to fight them off.

But a hand accustomed to gripping a writing brush had no strength for wielding a blade. He had barely raised the sword when a sabre came slashing down. The clang of metal on metal sent a numbing shock through the web of his hand, and he could no longer keep his grip. The sword flew from his fingers like pins pricking him loose, and clattered to the ground.

The man who had nearly been stabbed cried out, “This wretch dares to strike back at me — I’ll just cut him down and be done with it!” And he raised his blade.

Only then did He Xiao truly feel death approaching. He had no choice but to drop to his knees and beg. “Good heroes, spare my life! I have a bank note here for one thousand taels. Take it for wine, good heroes — I will never breathe a word of tonight’s affair to anyone. Only let me go…”

His hands trembling, he drew the bank note from his breast and was about to offer it up when the gang of brigands suddenly parted, opening a gap — and through it rode a man on horseback, who came to a stop before him.

He Xiao looked up, dazed — and found himself looking at Duke Shuguo. He felt as though he had received a pardon. “Uncle… Uncle, you’ve come at just the right moment…”

But before he could finish, a new layer of dread settled over him. In the dead of night, how had Duke Shuguo come to be here? Could it be that these men had been brought by him all along? At the thought, he was seized with terror.

Duke Shuguo gazed down at him with cold contempt. This creature, lower than a pig or dog — the more he had once valued him, the more he now despised him. Although he was a military man, he still knew the difference between close and distant. When weighed against his daughter’s very life and virtue, what was a nephew worth?

“You wretched bastard — you nearly destroyed my Mei’er.” He reined in his horse. The torchlight fell across his face, its layers of shadow making his features look especially fierce. “It is because of you that my fine daughter did not dare set foot outside for eleven years, ruining both her marriage prospects and her future. I showed you such regard all these years — and it turns out you are nothing but a beast!”

He Xiao knew he had come to settle scores, but still harbored a faint hope. If he could invoke his mother, perhaps it might stir some of Duke Shuguo’s old affections. He kowtowed without stopping, and pleaded, “Uncle, I was foolish in the past. As a child, I only meant to play a trick on my cousin — I never intended it to go so far and nearly harm her. I have been tormented by remorse these many years, which is why I wished to take her as my wife and make amends for my past wrongs. Uncle, I beg you — for A’Niang’s sake, forgive me this once. I will be your ox and your horse in the future, repaying my cousin and returning your kindness.”

Upon hearing this, Duke Shuguo spat at him viciously. “Not even if you invoked your mother right now — not even if you invoked your ancestors back eighteen generations would it do any good. You condemned criminal — even now your mouth is full of twisted reasoning. You claim you sought to marry Mei’er to atone for your past wrongdoing — then why did you not come to our door on bended knee, seek forgiveness openly, and make a proper proposal? Why resort to those underhanded schemes and force her into such a desperate situation?!”

He Xiao still harbored a sliver of hope, and flatly denied it. “Uncle, I never coerced my cousin…”

Duke Shuguo’s rage erupted. He drew his horsewhip and lashed it down savagely. “Scoundrel! Not a single true word in your mouth! Do you think I can’t see through everything you’ve done? Did you think that paying a hundred taels to send Xiang Yun away would make him vanish from my sight? Let me tell you — Xiang Yun’s hands have already been cut off. You, the ringleader, are next!”

He Xiao covered his lacerated, bleeding cheek, wracked with pain and fear. He had been certain that Xiang Yun, knowing he had stirred up disaster, would have fled far away by now. He had not imagined that he, too, had fallen into Duke Shuguo’s hands.

There was no point in arguing now. In such circumstances, his only recourse was to gamble on kinship, so he wept, “Uncle — my A’Niang is your own elder sister. A’Niang has only me…”

Duke Shuguo’s expression was dark and merciless. “That she failed to discipline you properly is her transgression. You still have the gall to invoke her to plead for you? Your father has a whole string of sons from his concubines — one less of you makes no great difference. As you live now, you are nothing but a stain on the family’s honor. Better you die and be done with it. I suspect your father would come to thank me.”

The moment his words fell, Duke Shuguo’s former soldiers dismounted, and like eagles seizing a chick, they seized He Xiao.

He Xiao struggled with all his might, but could not break free. In truth, the moment Duke Shuguo had appeared, he had been calculating quietly to himself: however little sentiment might remain, a close kinsman surely would not truly take his life — at most, he would be frightened into submission. But now it seemed they were in earnest. Though fear gripped his heart, he still felt he had not yet reached the point of absolute hopelessness.

They hauled him along while he resisted defiantly, even declaring, “My cousin has feelings for me, Uncle. She has never forgotten me all these years.”

At that moment, from a carriage standing in the darkness, there descended a figure veiled in a gauze curtain — her entire form draped in dark silk gauze, with only a sliver of her face visible through the parted screen, pale as a ghost.

He Xiao was stunned. If seeing Duke Shuguo had not yet been enough to make him accept his fate, Mei Fen’s appearance filled him with the despair of a man on the brink of death.

“I have indeed never forgotten you. I remember clearly how you pushed me into the water, and how you laughed as you watched me struggle and thrash in it.” Mei Fen said unhurriedly, then turned to look at Duke Shuguo. “Father, there is a river over there. Let us put Cousin in it.”

She spoke these words with perfect composure — a composure that carried even a trace of quiet mockery. This long journey of pursuit had been undertaken to heal the sickness in her heart. Now that the remedy stood before her, it was all a matter of applying the right cure.

Duke Shuguo exchanged a glance with his men and had them carry out Mei Fen’s instruction. He Xiao’s cries and wails rang out with particular shrillness in the dark of night — but to Mei Fen’s ears, they were the most satisfying sound in the world. The more pitifully he screamed, the happier she felt. She watched as they dragged him like a live pig to the riverbank, seized his arms, and plunged his entire head into the water.

Gurgle, gurgle… At such a moment, a human being is utterly helpless. All one’s strength is eroded away by water flooding into every orifice. Terror, helplessness, utter despair… In the drowning mind, the only remaining fragment of consciousness can perceive nothing but agony.

Mei Fen watched from the side, cold and composed. That time — it had not been her fate to die. If Father had been half a step later in arriving, what would have become of her?

Yet as she kept watching, a chill crept in. All her hatred was slowly compensated for with each of He Xiao’s struggles. She let out a quiet breath, and said to Ba Bao, who had accompanied her, “Let us go back.”

Ba Bao helped her back into the carriage and murmured, “Villains deserve such retribution!” But her upper teeth were chattering against her lower ones, clacking in the darkness.

On the riverbank, the man who had at first been fighting back gradually grew weaker, and the kicking of his legs turned to convulsions. It seemed he had very nearly reached the end. Duke Shuguo made a gesture, and his men hauled him up out of the water.

Not allowing him to die here on the spot was already the greatest clemency that could be shown him. In this desolate wilderness, whether or not he could find his way out depended entirely on his own fortune. An uncle killing a nephew — that was something his conscience could not entirely clear. He Xiao was a beast; he himself could not bring himself to be the same.

The semi-conscious He Xiao was thrown on the riverbank and gasped desperately for breath in great heaving gulps. After a long while, he slowly opened his bleary eyes and saw the torchlight growing distant. Above him, the countless stars of the sky pressed close overhead, flickering and spinning, as if they would draw him into that boundless night.

At least his life was spared — he took some comfort in that. Since he had not died, it meant Heaven had not yet seen fit to take him. As the saying goes, rivers east for thirty years, rivers west for thirty more — there would come a day when he would reclaim every humiliation he had suffered today.

Swaying unsteadily to his feet, he cursed under his breath without cease: “Wretched woman… vile little wretch…” His legs were still unsteady beneath him.

The moon grew enormous. The stars suddenly seemed to hurtle toward him like snowflakes, pounding over his head and face. He stumbled, his foot catching the soft mud at the edge of the riverbank. On that one twist, with a thundering crash, he plunged back into the water.

He struggled with all his might, but only drifted farther from the bank. Despair struck him suddenly — he no longer had the strength to stand.

The stars sank over the four corners of the earth. Heaven and earth returned to stillness, and only the chorus of insects rose and fell in endless echo.

The round moon cast its reflection on the river. In the center of the current, a dark shape bobbed and sank with the flow. When the ripples dissolved, it was as though nothing had happened at all.

Yun Pan’s shop was to open in just a day or two. The auspicious hour had already been selected, and they only needed to wait for the day to arrive before hanging the red banners and welcoming the first customers.

Today, Li Chenjian had a day of rest from his duties. Busy of late, he had not been able to observe the morning and evening greetings properly, so taking advantage of the free time, he went to Mao Garden to accompany the elders for breakfast.

During the meal, the death of the eldest legitimate son of Duke Chengguo was also mentioned. The Princess Consort sighed and said, “Such a fine child — so clever, so well-mannered. The last time his mother celebrated her birthday, he was dressed in his scholar’s robe, following his father like a little grown-up, greeting the guests with such composure… and in the blink of an eye, just like that, he was gone.”

The passing of a child always called up boundless sorrow in the telling, even if the child was a dull one, and all the more so for one so bright.

The Grand Madam set down her chopsticks and lowered her lashes. “Now only the Duke of Chuguo’s family still has a legitimate heir. The current situation actually works in his favor.” She then glanced at Li Chenjian and Yun Pan. “Frankly speaking, what I am about to say may be difficult to hear, but what I mean is — you two as a young couple must also make haste. Although Duke Chengguo has lost his eldest legitimate son, he still has a son born of a concubine. If His Majesty is to select someone to continue a noble line, preference will naturally go to those who already have heirs. As your household still has no children, you will inevitably fall behind in the race.”

Yun Pan felt somewhat embarrassed, but had nothing to say and could only lower her head and assent.

Li Chenjian deflected with a laugh. “Grandmother is far too anxious. We have only been married a little over a month — things cannot happen so quickly. Besides, the blessing of children depends on Heaven’s arrangement. If they are meant to be ours, they will come sooner or later; if not, we cannot force it.”

But the Grand Madam frowned. “What time do you think this is, that you are still not in a hurry? How things will go in the future, you must plan carefully for yourself. First it was the movement of troops, and now it is a matter of children — truly not a single thing can be allowed to fall behind others. Even setting aside ten thousand concerns about the imperial throne — simply having a flourishing household is itself a good thing. This family of ours has title, and it has wealth; what we lack is children. If only you were to conceive soon, your father in the earth below could rest in peace.”

Since even the late Prince had been invoked, there was no way to deflect any further. The Princess Consort also smoothed things over: “Listening to Grandmother is never wrong. I also look forward to your good news — so I may hold grandchildren in my arms sooner, and have some flavor to my days.”

Yun Pan could only go on assenting. In her heart, she felt a creeping sorrow — she had always known this day would eventually come.

The family lacked children — but no one had specified legitimate sons or sons from concubines. Besides, bearing children was not like laying eggs, where one came today and another tomorrow. She supposed the Grand Madam was not counting on her alone. In a household of this standing, truly everything was complete except for children, and sooner or later the matter of taking concubines would have to be placed on the agenda. Before their marriage, Li Chenjian had neither a chamber consort nor any woman of close acquaintance — among men of his station, this made him something near a paragon. But after marriage, for the continuation of the family line, he would inevitably need to install a few rooms of concubines to branch the family tree and ensure the incense of the ancestral hall burned bright.

Yun Pan’s thoughts wound through many turns, though she could not let her worry show on her face. She forced herself to rally her spirits and kept up pleasant conversation throughout the meal. But her chest was heavy, as though pressed beneath a great stone, and the weight grew more oppressive with each moment, filling her with growing unease.

After she finally managed to leave Mao Garden, she walked along the long covered walkway, gazing blankly at the banana trees swaying in the wind in the courtyard, their leaves rustling with a soft shushing sound.

Li Chenjian walked beside her. He, too, knew the Grand Madam’s words just now had weighed heavily on her, and so he said, “Grandmother and Mother are anxious, but you need not take it to heart. When a child can be conceived is not for either of us to say — your spirits must remain as they usually are.”

Yun Pan nodded, feeling her nose prickle. She kept her head lowered and said nothing.

Seeing her mood grow ever more downcast, he called to her again. “What is the matter? Are you truly sad?”

Yun Pan said she was not, and forced a smile. “The other day I saw the wife of Defense Commissioner Zhao — she was carrying a child, her belly round and full. It looked so very lovely.”

Her eyes held a light of longing as she spoke. But he felt a constant tender protectiveness toward this young wife of his and was unwilling to pile unnecessary burdens upon her shoulders. He paused in his steps and gently touched her cheek, saying warmly, “Zhao Zhongyan and his wife — it took them three years to conceive their first child. We have not even been married two full months yet, so there is no need to rush. Besides, bearing children is a dangerous and treacherous business. You are still young, and I am not willing to have you risk life and death for this. It is better to wait until you are a little older before having children.”

Hearing this, Yun Pan found some small comfort, though she could not fully let go of the worry. She gave a wry smile. “A little older… I am afraid Grandmother and Mother will have worked themselves into a frenzy by then.”

He was a man, after all — what did he understand of the affairs of the inner chambers? Chun Sheng had taken three years to conceive, but all outsiders ever saw was her smiling graciously while receiving guests. He had likely never seen her sighing alone in her rooms.

And she herself was foolish for it — having married into such a household, she ought to have anticipated everything long ago and not allowed herself to feel this hurt. But how could she not be hurt? He was not a rouge or a box of incense — he was a living, breathing person, who bore the full weight of her feelings. How could she simply cut those ties and hand him over? Yet she could not struggle against it, could not speak of it. She feared that her petty nature would fall short of the standard expected of the wife of a noble house, and she feared being seen through and looked down upon, and losing the dignity she took such pride in.

After that, when he came again to offer comfort, she painted everything in peaceable colors, and once he went out to attend to his affairs, she sat alone by the moon-shaped window in a daze.

Nanny Yao came to report the feedback from the estate farms — she said that none of the several nearby estates had found any trace of the two nannies — but Yun Pan listened inattentively, without any response.

Nanny Yao glanced at Qin Dan. Qin Dan also wore a look of confusion. Nanny Yao could only call to her gently. “Is Madam troubled by something? Perhaps if you speak of it, we servants can help think of a way.”

Yun Pan let out a soft “mm” and said placidly, “It is nothing much. The Grand Madam is urging us to have children quickly.”

With that one sentence, Nanny Yao understood. She only said, “Madam need not be anxious — it has only been a little over a month since the wedding. As for whether there is or is not, we would have to wait at least two more months before it could be diagnosed.”

Indeed — if one were to say there was already news at this point, that would truly be something remarkable. Yun Pan herself found it a little funny. Older people were all like this, she supposed: when children were mentioned, they wanted to swallow the whole bun in one bite.

Slowly composing herself, she asked Nanny Yao: “I have noticed that my aunt and uncle seem very much in love. My aunt also has a fiery temper — so how did she come to take a concubine for Uncle in the first place?”

Nanny Yao replied, “Back then it was also because there were no children. If she did not take a concubine for Lord Xiang, people would inevitably say she was jealous and possessive, so she chose two from among the household maidservants. But in the end, it was still your aunt who conceived Young Master Xu first. Those two rooms only conceived five or six years later, which is why Young Master Yan is so much younger than Young Master Xu.”

Yun Pan listened with a melancholy air. “Even someone with my aunt’s temper was afraid of being called jealous and possessive…”

Nanny Yao caught a hint of something and asked, “Did the Grand Madam say anything about bringing a concubine in for the Duke?”

Yun Pan shook her head. “Nothing was said outright. But I know — there will inevitably come such a day… The very thought of sending him to spend the night in someone else’s room — my heart cannot bear it.”

Nanny Yao sighed. “The world is not fair. But Madam cannot go down a dead-end road either. After all, our Duke is not an ordinary man.”

The undercurrent of rivalry among the three Dukes would only grow fiercer — from power to prestige to heirs, none could be lacking. For a man in his position, to spend a lifetime devoted to only one woman — that seemed, perhaps, a luxury too great to hope for.

Yun Pan naturally understood the reasoning as well. With the greater picture to consider, she had no room to make a scene. It was as if she had stolen a stretch of beautiful time — at least there had been this sweetness of mutual affection in their marriage. If he truly took concubines someday, then the bond between husband and wife would likely end there. From then on they would each look after themselves, never speak of feelings again, and that would be her means of self-preservation.

She turned her head desolately to look at the courtyard outside. She knew she ought not to let that mood linger too long. If marriage proved difficult, she would seek compensation elsewhere. Once the handcraft shop was properly established, she planned to open a rental shop and a pawnshop as well. Men might not be reliable, but money always was — money would never betray you.

She stood up, intending to go and look over the guest register for the opening day. She had only just crossed to the writing table when a maidservant from Hui Cun’s courtyard came hurrying over, calling through the window as she bobbed in salutation, “Madam — General Geng has arrived. He has brought all manner of sweets and pastries, and has come to make his apologies to our Commandery Princess.”

Yun Pan gave a soft “mm.” “How is the Commandery Princess taking it? Is she willing to see him?”

The maidservant said, “Our Commandery Princess is too tender-hearted. At first she said she would not see him, but in the end she could not hold out against his entreaties, and so has had him shown into the main reception hall.”