◎ Managing the Household ◎

She turned slowly and looked at Zhou Tan. “What do you think I want?”

Zhou Tan, head lowered, absently rubbed the white jade thumb ring on his hand, his tone giving nothing away. “I’ve already promised to save your father. Beyond that — money, status, or… a letter of divorce, some years down the line.”

Qu You frowned slightly, and unhurriedly settled herself into the chair by the table beside his bed, pouring herself a cup of tea.

Seeing her stay silent, Zhou Tan continued, “We’re newly married — to divorce now would likely displease the palace. Give it some time, and I’ll find a way to resolve it. What do you say?”

He lifted his head to look at the woman seated before him. She was strikingly beautiful, her eyes shimmering in the candlelight.

He glanced at her only once before looking away.

Qu You studied Zhou Tan across from her, feeling a flicker of irritation. “You think I saved your life just so I could ask you for things?”

“Isn’t that so?” Zhou Tan asked evenly.

“Perhaps I simply pitied you, and felt sorry for you,” Qu You said.

“I don’t need anyone’s pity,” Zhou Tan said after a pause, then let out a scoffing laugh. “Besides… you’re the daughter of an upright scholarly family. Why would you pity someone like me?”

Facing Liang An and Zhou Yang earlier, Zhou Tan had been coldly composed, tinged with a distant harshness, showing no willingness to yield an inch. Now, alone with her, though his expression had softened somewhat, his tone remained just as unyielding, as though he suspected she had ulterior motives.

Qu You immediately smothered whatever sympathy she’d begun to feel for the man. She recalled the cold, clinical language of the historical records, and felt she could finally understand those few lines describing him as “guarded and self-possessed, indifferent to all.”

The Zhou Tan who had appeared in her dreams — handsome, upright, fragile, like delicate white snow melting beneath spring blossoms — had, it seemed, been nothing more than a fantasy of her own imagining.

“This marriage is absurd. Had I been conscious, I would certainly have stopped it,” Zhou Tan suddenly said again, his tone somewhat gentler. “To waste your youth like this was never my wish. It would only be natural if you resented me for it.”

Qu You rolled her eyes and changed the subject. “Fine. If you truly want to repay me for saving your life, then I’ll ask you for one thing.”

Zhou Tan nodded. “What is it?”

“Freedom,” Qu You said, standing up and looking directly at him. “I used to be confined to the inner chambers, unable to do much of anything. Now I’d like to live a different kind of life. I have friends among common folk — I might travel with them to see the mountains and rivers of distant places, or perhaps run some small business here in the capital. There are so many things I want to do. Since we’re only husband and wife in name, I hope Lord Zhou won’t confine me to the back quarters.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Zhou Tan’s face before he composed himself again. “Naturally. I won’t interfere with you. If you need it, I can even assign you some guards, to see to your safety.”

Qu You audaciously perched herself on the edge of the table, and sure enough, saw Zhou Tan’s brow furrow.

Her tone turned mocking. “Lord Zhou is quite different from most men. I’d half expected that even a marriage in name only would come with lectures about guarding my reputation, following the Three Obediences and Four Virtues, submitting to my husband as the guiding principle of the household.”

Zhou Tan shot back, “You’re quite different from most women yourself.”

“Still… pursuing one’s own path, seeking out famous mountains and rivers, unconfined by the duties of a proper wife and mother, unbound by the Three Obediences and Four Virtues — that sounds like a fine life.”

“Why, thank you for the compliment,” Qu You said.

No sooner had she spoken than she saw Zhou Tan turn and pull an intricately carved rosewood box from the cabinet beside his bed, gesturing for her to take it.

“These are the contracts for the servants in this residence, along with the deeds — several shops in the capital and paddy fields on the outskirts, all bestowed by His Majesty. You may draw on them as you see fit, no need to inform me. If you’d rather not manage them, hand them over to Nanny Yun instead.”

Qu You took the box and opened it to glance inside.

Was this really the entirety of Zhou Tan’s assets? He’d just finished saying they’d divorce eventually — so why hand the box over to her now? Was he testing whether she had designs on his money?

Qu You gave the contents a cursory look, then closed the box. “Why give this to me?”

“My household affairs are mostly handled by Nanny Yun, but she’s not from the capital and doesn’t get around easily here — she’s been managing as best she can. If you’re interested now, you can take it over; it’ll make things more convenient.” Zhou Tan said.

There were plenty of things she genuinely needed money for — but the way Zhou Tan phrased it, it almost sounded as though he were doing her a favor by paying her, hiring her to manage his household.

Qu You scooped up the box and hopped down from the table. “You’re not worried I’ll take your entire fortune and run back to my parents’ house?”

Zhou Tan glanced lightly at her, his tone indifferent. “You’re welcome to try.”

The history books claimed Zhou Tan was “fond of wealth, fond of beauty” — the “fond of wealth” part seemed to be showing some early signs of truth, but there wasn’t a trace of “fond of beauty” to be found. Was she simply not beautiful enough?

Qu You, thoroughly annoyed, set the box down on the table and turned to leave the room.

Zhou Tan sat alone where he was, and suddenly realized he’d forgotten to ask her name.

Before long, however, Qu You returned, carrying two bowls of egg drop soup. She handed him one, kept the other for herself, and sat down at the table to look through the deeds in his box.

Zhou Tan took the bowl of soup and tasted a spoonful, finding it different from what he usually drank, and asked, somewhat incredulous, “Did you… make this?”

“Didn’t want you starving to death,” Qu You said, eyes still on the documents, her tone distant. “Whoever’s relative your household cook is, the food is uniformly terrible. Since you’ve put me in charge of this now, I’ll go find some new cooks tomorrow.”

The egg had been whisked to a silky smoothness, without a trace of any fishy odor, and the temperature was just right — neither too hot nor too cold. Zhou Tan had never been particularly indulgent about food, yet in that moment he felt he’d never tasted a better soup in his life.

Zhou Tan drank the bowl clean, and finally remembered to ask, “By the way — what’s your name?”

He still didn’t even know her name.

Qu You rolled her eyes internally, but answered patiently. “My surname is Qu, given name You, courtesy name Yilian. You is the you in ‘a single white cloud drifting leisurely far away.’ You can just call me Youyou — that’s what my friends call me.”

She added, after a moment, “Though I suppose we’re not quite that close yet.”

That form of address was, perhaps, a bit too familiar.

Zhou Tan turned the name over on his tongue, but said nothing of it, only replying, “I need to rest.”

Qu You yawned, then, looking up, remembered she’d forgotten to mention something. “On our wedding night, I slept on a bedroll on the floor beside your bed. From tomorrow on, Nanny Yun will have me moved to Fanghua Pavilion. Lord Zhou, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Zhou Tan said, “There’s no need to see me tomorrow either. I’ll be reviewing documents in the Pine Wind Pavilion, and would prefer not to be disturbed.”

Qu You, empty bowl in hand, turned and left without another word.

Long after she’d gone, Zhou Tan finally let his gaze drift down to the floor.

He clenched the blanket in his fist, a flicker of helplessness crossing his face, before he quickly reined in all trace of emotion, his eyes turning cool once more.

She… was nothing at all like the sheltered noblewoman he’d imagined.

The next day, Liang An didn’t dare come in person, sending instead a box of documents for Zhou Tan.

He spent the day alone in the Pine Wind Pavilion reviewing papers while recuperating. Qu You, having wandered idly about for a few days, called He Xing to meet her in front of the Xinji Hall.

He Xing bowed to her and reported quietly, “Madam, I’ve finished looking into the matter you asked me about.”

Qu You poured her a cup of tea and gestured for her to sit across from her. He Xing shrank back, not daring to sit, so Qu You simply got up and pushed her down into a bamboo chair. “I’ll have to crane my neck up at you if you stand there — that won’t do. No need for such formality, sit down.”

“There are thirty servants of various kinds in the household in total. The only steward is Uncle De; the inner household is entirely managed by Nanny Yun,” He Xing said quietly. “Of these, five handle cleaning, five work in the kitchen, six maids are assigned across the various courtyards…”

As she spoke, Qu You calculated in her mind.

There were far too few people in Zhou Tan’s household. She’d spent the past few days wandering around at her leisure, and had noticed many courtyards that were entirely empty, with no one assigned to them at all.

And yet, though the number of servants was small, they covered the most essential tasks — cleaning, cooking, shopping, and personal attendance — and with Nanny Yun’s capable management, everything ran smoothly enough.

Qu You’s conclusion was that Zhou Tan was a master of stripping things down to the essentials, keeping only the minimum staff necessary while still maintaining daily operations. If he hadn’t suddenly been attacked, this household would likely have continued in perfect, quiet balance indefinitely.

Fewer people meant fewer conflicts, and easier management.

But this inevitably came with gaps — not enough hands for household chores, no gardener for the front courtyard, which had fallen into complete disarray, terrible cooking, and murky, poorly kept purchasing accounts…

The Qu household had also had to manage such things, but everyone there had been preoccupied with simply surviving day to day.

The Zhou household was different. The vast front hall’s plants and grounds lay entirely neglected, and since she was living here now — and since Zhou Tan seemed content to let her do as she pleased — she decided to simply summon Nanny Yun and discuss bringing in more servants.

Nanny Yun looked troubled. “I’ve tried arranging this before, but I’m not from the capital and I don’t know the local matchmakers and brokers well. I’ve tried a few times and never managed to get it done.”

“No need for brokers,” Qu You said, taking a stack of coins from the box beside her and handing it to Nanny Yun. “Nanny, please go ahead and distribute this as a reward to everyone today on my behalf. Ask around — anyone who wants to leave the household, to get married elsewhere, let them go freely. As for new hires, let’s first look among the children of the tenant farmers on the outskirts paddy lands, see if any of them would like to come work here. If not, I’ll ask my mother to recommend some people.”

Nanny Yun held the stack of coins, at a loss. “This… what reason should I give for the reward, Madam?”

“This is my first time managing the household — think of it as a welcoming gift,” Qu You mused. “When we bring in new people, I’ll draw up a clear system of rewards, penalties, and promotions, along with shift schedules and duty rotations. Good work gets rewarded, poor work gets fined. No favoritism based on connections, and no need to curry favor with the master of the house.”

“Everyone should simply do their own job well — that’s how I see it. Mainly, I don’t want any servants harboring resentment toward this household. When we bring in new people, I’ll have their backgrounds thoroughly checked, and Nanny, I’ll need you to keep an eye out too — anyone of poor character, especially anyone who can’t keep their mouth shut, absolutely cannot be allowed into this household. We’ll wipe the slate clean of old grievances, set new rules going forward, so everyone has something to look forward to, and hopefully we can all pull together as one. What do you think, Nanny?”

“Excellent,” Nanny Yun thought to herself with quiet admiration, then said aloud, “With me keeping watch here, nothing will go wrong. Rest easy, Madam.”

“Good, that’s a relief,” Qu You said, letting out a breath — fortunate indeed to have Nanny Yun here, letting her get away with being a little lazy herself. “Nanny, there’s no need to look for anyone too young either. You’re an old hand at the Zhou household — you’ll surely handle things more skillfully than I could. I’ll be relying on you a great deal for the household’s affairs going forward.”

Though the young mistress was still quite young, she was clearly a woman of firm opinions, considerate toward the servants and entirely without airs — the household should be far easier to manage from here on out.

Nanny Yun quickly said, “Madam, how could you say such a thing. If I may speak out of turn — my own husband died young, and I never had children of my own. In my heart, I’ve long thought of the young master as my own child.”

Qu You sighed. “Nanny, you really have been so good to him.”

She couldn’t help but wonder how the seemingly cold and indifferent Zhou Tan treated Nanny Yun in return.

The two women were still chatting when a young servant boy came rushing breathlessly into the front hall, stammering, “Madam, someone’s arrived from the palace — they say they heard the master has woken, and have come to deliver a reward!”

Who could be sending a reward, and why? The Noble Consort? Emperor De himself? Or someone else entirely?

No reward for the wedding itself, but one now that he’d woken? That didn’t sound like a particularly good sign.

Qu You rose from her chair in front of the Xinji Hall, and had just turned around when she saw Zhou Tan standing by the pillar of the Pine Wind Pavilion’s doorway, looking over at her from across the mottled bluestone path.

She suddenly thought of her dream, and then, quite inappropriately, decided that since this courtyard was so neglected, she ought to plant a few apricot trees here.