The Minister’s residence understood perfectly well that the two families had long since parted ways — they were simply trading on the shared surname of Pei and the common clan bond, hoping to try their luck one more time.

The Heir Apparent of Anping Commandery and his household would be setting out for Ganzhou in the northwest in two or three months’ time, and within such a short period, finding a suitable marriage match was no easy matter. Pei Ruotan had no choice but to start with clan relatives and marriage connections.

What if it actually worked out?

The Xu family was already well-established in the capital, with an unblemished family reputation. Yan Gui was fourteen years of age, and at that age had already achieved the Xiao Sanyuan — the triple prize in the lower-level examinations. He was a fine match in terms of age for Pei Ruotan’s eldest daughter, an excellent candidate for a son-in-law.

The Xu family had always associated with people of upright character, and Yan Gui was one of the only two grandsons of the household. With so bright a future ahead of him, there was simply no possibility the Xu family would agree to this marriage, letting their youngest grandson take a county princess as his wife.

Lian Jie’er had chosen this moment — feigning casual conversation — to mention the matter as if in passing, but in truth she was saying it for the Old Madam to hear, so that the Old Madam would be on guard and not be caught off guard by the second branch’s scheming, which might put the Xu family in an awkward position.

With Father and Mother far away in Jiangnan, and her younger brother occupied with his duties at court, Lian Jie’er was afraid that the old master and Old Madam might soften for a moment and agree to something they ought not.

“Pfft, the nerve of her.” The Old Madam was no longer as muddled as she had once been. She said: “Lian’er, just have your mother-in-law refuse them flat out — no need to consider anything. As things stand today, the second branch has no right to speak of coming from the same clan.”

“That is exactly what I told my mother-in-law. I said, Grandmother saw through the second branch’s character long ago — she would never let Yan Gui have anything to do with them.”

This exchange left the Old Madam very pleased.

Ying Jie’er and Chen Xingchen’s eldest daughter, Yin Yin, was a year and a half old. She had inherited her parents’ striking looks, always wore a little smile, and had a somewhat mischievous temperament — a delightful child in every way. She made her way back and forth among the elders in small, quick steps, and whenever she reached someone, she would tilt her head back and say: “Hug me.”

She was not shy around anyone at all.

Her particular favorite was her small maternal uncle, Huai Ge’er.

Zhu Jie’er’s baby boy was only three months old, peacefully asleep in his swaddle. Qiao Yunsheng held the bundle, his left elbow supporting the swaddle from below, his right palm cradling it from above, gently rocking his arm to lull his son to sleep, all while chatting with his brothers-in-law — his movements remarkably practiced.

Zhu Jie’er and Ying Jie’er sat together, close by each other. Noticing that Ying Jie’er looked tired, her whole person worn and weary, Zhu Jie’er took her hand and asked in a gentle voice: “Younger Sister Ying, have you been overworking yourself lately? You don’t look well at all.”

It was the middle of the New Year celebrations, so Ying Jie’er did not say much. She only offered a single sentence: “The old matriarch of the household has recently come down with a chill, and her constitution is a little weaker than before.” The old matriarch referred to the Marchioness of the Chen family.

Zhu Jie’er understood.

The Marchioness was nearly eighty. She had fallen ill the previous year, and when the Empress had sent an imperial physician to attend to her, he had said only that her age was showing, her constitution no longer what it had once been, and that she must take good care of herself.

When a person grows old, one day is inevitably a little worse than the last — there is nothing to be done about it.

Since Ying Jie’er had married into the Marquis’s residence, the Marchioness had always treated her, this third granddaughter-in-law, with great kindness, never constraining her in anything. Now that the Marchioness was old and ailing, it was only natural that Ying Jie’er would tend to her wholeheartedly.

Zhu Jie’er said: “Younger Sister Ying, you must also look after your own health. Do not wear yourself out.”

Ying Jie’er nodded and replied: “Sister Zhu, do not worry. I know my own limits.”

At the midday meal, an array of carefully prepared dishes was brought to the table. Yang Shiyue was seated with the other sisters, and one moment was chatting perfectly well — when a whiff of meat reached her, she was seized by an unstoppable urge to retch. Feeling a little embarrassed, she could only cover her mouth with a handkerchief.

It was only tolerable once the smell of meat was gone.

Yang Shiyue was wondering inwardly what had come over her today when she noticed all the sisters turning to look at her at the same moment, their expressions knowing and full of happy meaning.

And in that instant, she understood too — it seemed that fate had truly arrived?

Her monthly cycle had been seven or eight days late. She had had a vague premonition already, and had thought to wait a few more days before saying anything. She had not expected to have a reaction like this at the New Year luncheon.

It was always a little unprepared the first time around.

The sisters had all been through this themselves. Seeing Yang Shiyue lower her eyes without speaking, shy and joyful at once, they understood the situation without needing to ask.

Lian Jie’er had the nanny move several plain, mild-flavored dishes to Yang Shiyue’s side, and said with a smile: “Let us have the midday meal first. We can talk properly later, back in the room.”

After the luncheon.

Ying Jie’er took Yang Shiyue’s pulse, withdrew her hand, and before she could say a word, Lian Jie’er was already at her side asking: “Fourth Sister, how is it?”

Yang Shiyue’s eyes also held eager anticipation.

Ying Jie’er said: “It is still early, and a pulse reading at this stage is not definitive. But based on other signs, there is a seven- or eight-in-ten chance she is with child.” Chinese medicine relies on observation, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking — not pulse alone.

She added: “Once the Lantern Festival has passed, I will come again. By then the joyful pulse should be readable.”

All the sisters were delighted, and each took a turn telling Yang Shiyue what she should be careful about in her daily life. Yang Shiyue gently rested a hand on her belly, acknowledging everything they said.

Pei Shaohuai was outside holding his niece Yin Yin, chatting with the various brothers-in-law. He was called inside by his sisters, and found all of them bright-faced and overjoyed. Not yet understanding what had happened, he smiled and asked: “Sisters, what good news is there?”

The light in the room was soft, making everyone’s brows and eyes seem gentle and curved in smiles.

Pei Shaohuai noticed his wife’s hand resting at her belly, and felt that something about her seemed different — a new quality settled over her. In a sudden flash, he understood.

He was going to be a father?

He was going to be a father.

Just as he had been a few days earlier, Pei Shaohuai was struck dumb and still with joy — two lifetimes lived as someone’s son, and now this moment of being told he would be a father. It was as though from the age of twenty onward, every step he took was vastly different from everything that had come before.

Things that had once been silent and still. Things he had not dared to hope for. Little by little, in the ordinary passing of days, they were being mended and made real.

He had no doubt that he was looking forward to this.

“Look at younger brother — he is beside himself with happiness.” The sisters teased him.

Pei Shaohuai came back to himself, and heard his fourth elder sister say: “During this time, you must take good care of Shiyue. No recklessness… Now go and speak with your wife. In a little while, your brothers-in-law wish to have a word with you.” She turned to the others: “All right, let us go out and leave the two of them to talk.”

With Father Pei Bingyuan and Lin Shi away in the capital, it naturally fell to the sisters to fuss a little more. Though they knew he was steady and careful in all he did, they were afraid there might be things a young man would not know or understand.

Lian Jie’er said: “That’s enough — let us all step out and give them some time together.” The sisters rose and left one after another.

Pei Shaohuai sat down beside his wife, and husband and wife nestled close together. When Pei Shaohuai put his arms around Yang Shiyue, he opened his hands wide, his broad sleeves spreading open, then slowly drew them together again. It was an ordinary gesture in itself, but made so careful and tentative that it came out stiff.

Yang Shiyue leaned against his shoulder, and he did not dare let his arms move at all.

“Husband, why are you acting like a wooden statue?”

In the time since their marriage, day after day and night after night, Yang Shiyue had come to know her husband’s nature — composed and unruffled in the face of great matters, but in private matters, the more he cared, the more he found himself at a loss, and appeared “clumsy.”

“Am I… am I?” Pei Shaohuai replied. “Fourth Elder Sister told me to take good care of you.”

“There is no need to be this cautious.” Yang Shiyue felt warm and happy inside, and said: “Husband, just be as you usually are.” Pei Shaohuai was already gentle and courteous enough in his everyday manner.

“Yes, yes, I will listen to you, my wife.”

In his previous life, Pei Shaohuai had been too young, and had never had any understanding of pregnancy or childbearing — he was entirely ignorant, knowing only broad principles such as minding one’s diet, getting enough gentle movement, and keeping one’s spirits up. In this matter, his sisters had far more authority than he did, so Pei Shaohuai asked: “What did Fourth Elder Sister tell you to watch for?”

Yang Shiyue told her husband everything — from the midday meal through to the pulse-reading in the room — and said: “Fourth Elder Sister told me that for the first three months, I must rest well. After that, I should go out more often for walks and fresh air, and not stay cooped up in the residence all day long. And I must not eat too much.”

Pei Shaohuai held his wife’s hand in his, and just sat quietly without speaking. Even that felt very good.

Though this was a joyful thing, because the joyful pulse had not yet been confirmed, and the first three months had not yet passed, the young couple and the sisters said nothing publicly about it. Only the Pei and Yang families knew within their small circle.

From the fifth day of the New Year, Pei Shaohuai began making the rounds of visits to pay his respects to his teachers and senior teachers — bringing gifts to each residence, sitting and chatting for an hour or two as a gesture of gratitude and respect.

But when he visited Zhang Lingyi, he stayed at the Minister Zhang’s residence for an entire day. He arrived at the hour of Chen in the morning and was only preparing to board his carriage and leave when night had fallen. They had spent the whole day in the study in conversation.

It was, of course, entirely about the matter of opening the sea.

Pei Shaohuai was ready to act.

As he was leaving, Zhang Lingyi handed Pei Shaohuai a memorial and said: “Proceed exactly as you have planned, Pei Official. I will do everything in my power to assist.”

Pei Shaohuai bowed sincerely and said: “This student thanks his teacher for the help. You have been put to some trouble on my account during this time.”

“What are you saying, Pei Official?” Zhang Lingyi laughed. “Your plan is a good one — thanks to you, I get to rest at home for an extra half-month.”

Pei Shaohuai bowed again in farewell, took his teacher’s leave-of-absence memorial, and headed home. The words were already fully formed in his mind — he was simply waiting for the New Year celebrations to end, and then he would seek an audience with the Emperor.

After the New Year, officials returned to their respective offices and took up their duties again.

Following the morning court session, Pei Shaohuai made his way to the entrance of the Qianqing Palace and asked the attending inner official to announce him, requesting an audience with His Majesty.

He had come today fully prepared. If the sea opening was to succeed, the most essential first step was to persuade the Emperor — to get the Emperor to make a firm decision to push it forward.

Then, obstacles could be overcome one by one.

“Official Pei, His Majesty bids you enter. This way, please.”

Pei Shaohuai followed the official into the imperial study. The Emperor saw him enter, set down his brush for the moment, and asked: “What important matter brings you here, Beloved Official Pei?”

After performing his bow, Pei Shaohuai replied: “Your subject has been entrusted by Minister Zhang to come and present his leave-of-absence memorial on his behalf.”

The Emperor then recalled — no wonder Zhang, that beloved official, had not been seen at morning court today.

Eunuch Xiao stepped forward and received the memorial. The Emperor read it briefly, murmuring: “Zhang, Our beloved official, wishes to take half a month’s leave…”

Pei Shaohuai picked up the thread and said: “Minister Zhang says that affairs within his household have fallen into disorder and discord on a number of fronts, and matters have reached a point where they can no longer be left untended. He has therefore taken leave to attend to it in person, and humbly requests Your Majesty’s gracious approval.”

“Oh? It seems that Beloved Official Pei is acquainted with Minister Zhang’s household affairs.” A look of curiosity came over the Emperor. “Tell Us about it.”

“The matter begins with two distant grandsons of Minister Zhang.”

“Distant grandsons?” the Emperor asked.

He had heard of distant relatives, but never of distant grandsons.

Pei Shaohuai explained: “Minister Zhang says that they both share the surname Zhang and, when one traces the connection, there is indeed some degree of kinship. Counting by generation, these two men would address Minister Zhang as their grandfather.”

“Continue.”

“One of these grandsons lives to the north of the capital, and the other to the east. Every year, both of them make the long journey to the capital to pay their respects to the grandfather at the Minister’s residence — and they never come empty-handed. Produce from the fields, game from the mountains, fish and shrimp from the rivers — they bring quite a few things as gifts. Minister Zhang, considering that they share the same family name and that they seem honest and harmless, and knowing that making such a long journey is no easy matter, felt that he should help them if he could — so he happily accepted the things they brought and received them warmly. And when it was time for them to go home, Minister Zhang bought all manner of things from the capital — bolts of cloth, cured meats, fermented wine, everything one could want — and gave them a generous sum of silver as well. Then, since they said the road home was long and difficult, he also arranged a carriage to see them out of the city.”

The Emperor nodded and said approvingly: “To provide for one’s clan members to the best of one’s ability — Zhang, that beloved official, has a generous spirit.”

In Da Qing, to be kind to one’s clanspeople after rising to prominence was a fine reputation to have.

“But Lady Zhang was not pleased.” Pei Shaohuai said.

“Minister Zhang serves in the Ministry of War, yet he fears his wife?” the Emperor asked.

“Your subject finds that Madam Zhang’s words do carry some reason,” Pei Shaohuai said.

“Go on.”

Pei Shaohuai continued: “From the very first visit, these two grandsons came every year without fail. In the beginning they still brought some game from the mountains, but by later years they brought only fruit unsellable at the market, saying it was the finest they had grown and selected themselves. What is more, when other villagers saw the benefit these two had gained, they followed suit — and actually altered the clan registry, adding a few strokes of the brush to claim kinship with Minister Zhang’s family.”

Hearing this much, the Emperor began to grasp the meaning and followed the thread of Pei Shaohuai’s story: “Minister Zhang, always concerned with his reputation, continued to send every one of them home with full hands — so every year it amounted to a sizable expense, more than the household could sustain. That is why his wife was displeased and quarreled with him over it?”

“Your Majesty is most perceptive.” Pei Shaohuai continued, still holding something in reserve, and said: “If it were only this, Minister Zhang would have had no need to take half a month’s leave.”

“There is more to the story?”

The Emperor motioned for Pei Shaohuai to continue, and it was clear the Emperor had been drawn in.

“One of these grandsons noticed that the Minister’s residence had a storeroom filled with old clothing, and begged Minister Zhang to give it to him. Minister Zhang thought nothing of it and agreed. But the grandson did not only take the old clothing — he also stole a set of Minister Zhang’s old official robes. When he returned to his village, he put on the official robes and swaggered about, using the name of the Minister’s residence to bully and intimidate wherever he went. The village folk saw the official robes and took him for a real official — they could only swallow their resentment in silence.”

“This grandson is a real piece of work,” the Emperor said. Then he asked: “And the other grandson? I imagine he has a story too.”

“This other grandson is a completely different piece of work,” Pei Shaohuai said.