Shortly after, Sister Ge Qiu laboriously pulled her cart away into the distance. Li Zhengping made several attempts to follow but ultimately stopped in his tracks. He knew Sister Ge Qiu’s temperament well enough to understand that she wouldn’t be able to handle his presence at this moment, so he remained where he was, watching from afar.
“Brother Zhengping, let’s head back,” Zhenniang said to Li Zhengping.
“Mm,” Li Zhengping nodded.
After they returned to the residence, Zhenniang thoroughly relayed everything that Ergou had discovered about Sister Ge Qiu.
Following Ge Dana’s death, Sister Ge Qiu had vanished without a trace. Zhenniang initially thought she might have sought refuge with relatives, as the Ge family had quite a few. However, Ge Dana had been orphaned at a young age and had faced considerable disdain from those relatives during his childhood. Moreover, being not particularly kind-hearted himself, after he had achieved success, he only maintained relationships with his close associates and never extended help to his relatives. Consequently, Sister Ge Qiu found herself with nowhere to turn.
After extensive inquiries, Ergou finally learned from a jail guard at the yamen that Sister Ge Qiu had ultimately sought refuge with Old Hu.
In life, there are always a few instances where one’s kindness, whether intentional or not, leaves an indelible mark on someone’s heart. Ge Dana had one such moment with Old Hu.
Old Hu had been an elderly man from the outskirts of the city, owning a few acres of poor farmland. He had two sons who, while not exceptionally filial, were at least mindful of his needs. Had circumstances remained unchanged, Old Hu’s care in his twilight years would have been secured. Unfortunately, the times were troubled. During New Year’s celebrations one year, Old Hu’s elder son took his family to pay respects at his wife’s ancestral home, coincidentally during the White Lotus Rebellion. All three perished in the uprising, and Old Hu had to sell his fields just to recover their bodies.
Shortly after, the Huaiqin River flooded. Old Hu’s second son was conscripted to repair the dykes but was swept away by the flood. Though rescued, he was barely alive. Old Hu refused to give up, selling their house to treat his younger son’s injuries, but ultimately couldn’t save his life. After burying his second son, Old Hu was left with nothing.
At that time, Ge Dana had been in charge of that section of the river dyke. Old Hu’s successive misfortunes would move anyone to tears, and Ge Dana felt a touch of sympathy. Seeing Old Hu’s desperate situation, and knowing the yamen needed someone for the grueling work of night soil collection, Ge Dana recommended him for the position. Though arduous, the job provided both shelter and sustenance—a long-term solution.
Old Hu was naturally grateful. While Ge Dana hadn’t dwelt on this act of kindness, even forgetting about it after a few months, Old Hu never forgot. Previously, being just a malodorous old night soil collector, and given Ge Dana’s prestigious position, Old Hu had kept his distance.
When Ge Dana met his unfortunate end and died in prison, the Cao family wouldn’t claim his body. It was Old Hu who retrieved it from the yamen, even using the thin coffin he had painstakingly saved money to build for himself.
It was only then that Sister Ge Qiu learned about Old Hu. After they buried Ge Dana, seeing that Sister Ge Qiu was unwelcome in the Cao household and had nowhere to go as a divorced woman, Old Hu had a yamen runner serve as a witness while he drafted a document adopting her as his granddaughter.
The grandfather and granddaughter came to rely on each other, with Sister Ge Qiu rising early each day to help Old Hu collect night soil.
This explained the scene Li Zhengping had witnessed that morning.
After hearing Zhenniang’s account, Li Zhengping stood up and formally bowed to her: “Thank you, Cousin, for your kindness in this matter.”
Li Zhengping understood well that if not for his connection, given the Ge family’s designs on the Li family’s ancestral property, it would have been commendable enough for Zhenniang to not harbor hatred toward Sister Ge Qiu, let alone concern herself with Sister Ge Qiu’s affairs.
“Brother Zhengping is too formal. We’re family; there’s no need for such courtesy,” said Zhenniang. She was quite curious about what Li Zhengping would do next, wondering if he might reconcile with Sister Ge Qiu, though given Aunt Jingming’s temperament, that seemed unlikely.
However, considering this was still a distant concern, and being an unmarried woman herself, it wasn’t appropriate for her to inquire about such matters. So she changed the subject: “Brother Zhengping, will you return before the New Year?”
“No, I won’t. Seventh Great-Aunt told me you all will be returning to Huizhou before the New Year, including Manager Zheng. I’ll stay at the Mo Estate to keep watch and tend to things here.”
“Then we’ll trouble Brother Zhengping with this,” Zhenniang replied. Before the New Year, she, her Second Aunt, Zheng Fuli, Master Ma, and his wife would all return to Huizhou. She had been worried about the South Capital, knowing they needed someone from the Li family to maintain social obligations during the holiday season. Having Brother Zhengping watch over the Mo Estate was the perfect solution.
Moreover, his familiarity with South Capital made handling the New Year’s social calls much less concerning.
“Cousin just said we’re family, so there’s no need for such formality with me. Besides, I’m also surnamed Li, and our ancestral teachings say that while Li family members can earn their living through Li Mo, they must also contribute to Li Mo’s development,” Li Zhengping said.
Indeed, this cousin had truly impressed him. He had thought it would take at least a year or two of dedicated effort for Li Mo to regain its footing in South Capital, yet in just over half a year, Li Mo was already thriving. Particularly noteworthy was learning upon his arrival that his cousin had become an ink supplier to the Princess’s mansion.
In this way, his cousin’s achievements had surpassed their Eighth Uncle’s, truly exemplifying the saying “the student surpasses the master.” This was truly unexpected and further demonstrated the Seventh Great-Aunt’s vision and courage. Few families would dare entrust such responsibility to someone as young as Zhenniang, especially being female.
Take the Tian family, for instance. He had heard about their situation. Tian Ronghua, their third miss, was far more capable than her second brother, yet the Tian family preferred to use the second son instead of giving Tian Ronghua a managerial position. They only allowed her to assist her second brother from behind the scenes, but such an arrangement was inherently problematic. Moreover, the second young master was hardly someone Tian Ronghua could effectively direct, ultimately leading to the Tian family’s current predicament.
All of this stemmed from Old Master Tian’s inability and unwillingness to properly utilize talent.
Li Zhengping found much to contemplate in all this.
Hearing Li Zhengping’s words, Zhenniang simply smiled.
In the following period, while Li Zhengping familiarized himself with the Mo Estate’s external affairs, it was said he had somehow established a connection with Old Hu, often sharing drinks. As for whether Li Zhengping had seen Sister Ge Qiu, he didn’t mention it, and neither Zhenniang nor the others asked.
Before they knew it, winter had arrived.
During this period, Zhenniang found herself exceptionally busy. The birthday ink production couldn’t be taken lightly, with some of the more challenging pieces requiring production at the Huizhou ink workshop. Furthermore, between the birthday ink and Zhenniang’s introduction of special New Year’s gift ink, the Mo Estate’s business had thoroughly flourished. There were also custom ink orders, including medicinal ink, with orders already scheduled past the New Year.
Everyone at the Mo Estate was constantly on their feet during this time. Even Second Aunt complained of being overwhelmed, as the carved boards for the birthday ink required exceptional craftsmanship, and the apprentices were still far from ready to handle such work.
“Next year, we’ll need to bring two people over from my family,” Madam Huang said one evening after dinner, leaning against the bed with a hand warmer as she chatted with Zhenniang.
“That would be wonderful,” Zhenniang replied cheerfully. The Huang family was renowned for their carving expertise. Second Aunt’s male cousins were all famous carvers who rarely took on work, and even their trained disciples were highly sought after in the carving industry.
“By the way, it’s already the eleventh month. Have you booked the boat tickets? It gets crowded during the New Year, better book early to avoid missing out,” Madam Huang asked Zhenniang.
“Already done. We have tickets for the fifth day of the twelfth month. We’ll arrive before the Little New Year,” Zhenniang replied happily, realizing how much she missed home after staying in South Capital for so long.
Brother Zhengping had reminded her about booking early. Just as modern times had their Spring Festival travel rush, this era had its version. This was especially true in Huizhou, where many people worked away from home in business. Some might not return for years, but those who could generally try to make it back for the New Year.
This made boat tickets particularly hard to secure during the holiday season. She had managed to get them through connections with the Huizhou merchant guild; otherwise, even booking a month in advance might not have been enough.
“Good, that’s settled then,” Madam Huang nodded.
As the year’s end approached, they attended to various matters: distributing red packets, making preparations, and gathering necessary gifts.
Last month’s letter from her elder brother brought news that her sister-in-law had given birth to a son. While Li Dalang was somewhat disappointed, hoping for a daughter, the Li family elders, Madam Zhao, and even Seventh Great-Aunt were all delighted. In this era, having many children and grandchildren was considered a blessing, and few would complain about having too many descendants.
Consequently, Zhenniang visited the silversmith to have a complete set of silver locks made for the child, including bracelets. She also needed to buy fabric for her Grandmother, Mother, Elder Uncle’s wife Madam Zheng, her sister-in-law, and various aunts. The South Capital fabrics were known for their vibrant colors and were quite popular.
The night before, she had calculated the fabric needed, and the next day, she took her list to the neighboring Yao Family Fabric Shop.
Upon entering, she saw Madam Cao wearing a jujube-red jacket with silver trim and a brown sleeveless coat—the attire of a proper lady. Madam Yao and two shop assistants were measuring fabric for her: a piece of sky-blue satin, an exquisite material with a pure, transparent quality that in modern terms would be described as high-end and elegant.
The other piece was blue cloud silk, another premium fabric popular among the ladies of certain South Capital families.
After Madam Yao cut the fabric and an assistant wrapped it, they handed it to Madam Cao.
“Thank you. I’ll be going now. My husband will settle the payment,” Madam Cao said, carrying the fabric and leaving with her maid. She gave Zhenniang a meaningful smirk as she passed.
Zhenniang maintained her usual composure, but at that moment, Madam Yao approached the door, watching until Madam Cao was out of sight. Then she stomped her foot and spat in disgust: “Her husband indeed… Shameless woman, your husband’s bones aren’t even cold yet… Better take that fabric as a shroud to accompany your husband below!”
Madam Yao’s words were exceptionally venomous.
Zhenniang blinked, wondering about the situation.
“Every time she buys fabric without paying, waiting for Huang Lang to collect taxes. The master has no choice but to write it off—we can’t refuse, fearing Huang Lang will cause trouble with the taxes,” a shop assistant explained half-angrily, clarifying the situation to prevent misunderstandings about the mistress’s harsh words.
Zhenniang nodded slightly. After Ge Dana’s incident, though all his property had been confiscated, the house at the street corner had somehow ended up in Huang Lang’s possession, along with Madam Cao herself.
This had sparked endless gossip along Official Street. Everyone knew Huang Lang and Madam Cao had been conspiring together, jointly planning Ge Dana’s downfall. Though the rumors were unsavory, Huang Lang dared not cast Madam Cao aside. Eventually, they simply ignored the gossip, and gradually, people lost interest in talking about it.
However, Madam Cao frequently took advantage of Huang Lang’s current position as a patrol officer, buying things on credit throughout Official Street, and waiting for Huang Lang to pay. Huang Lang typically only appeared during tax collection, and shop owners, wanting to avoid trouble, either wrote off the debts or collected only token payments. While people maintained polite facades, they harbored deep resentment, leading to unpleasant talk behind closed doors.
Madam Cao intended to exploit Madam Yao for these two pieces of fabric. Madam Yao was normally very particular about money, and these were the shop’s finest materials, usually reserved for special occasions when the master entertained guests. No wonder Madam Yao was seething with rage and cursing so vehemently.
Still unsatisfied, Madam Yao continued: “Don’t be too proud. Such evil deeds involve human lives—karma will come. It’s not that there’s no retribution, just that the time hasn’t come. If I were Sister Ge Qiu, I’d burn down that house and those two dogs with it.”
“Enough! How can you speak of such things? Sister Ge Qiu’s whereabouts are unknown,” the shop manager Yao scolded his wife.
Madam Yao sheepishly fell silent and hurried to attend to Zhenniang. Zhenniang handed over her pre-prepared list; she had already selected the fabrics, so they just needed to be cut according to the specifications.
Zhenniang raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. According to Ergou, Sister Ge Qiu had been helping Old Hu collect night soil for some time, yet nobody in the area seemed to recognize her during her morning rounds. While this could partly be attributed to the early hour when people weren’t paying attention, it was clear Sister Ge Qiu was deliberately avoiding recognition. Of course, having fallen from her former status as a privileged lady to her current desperate situation, it was natural for her to avoid familiar faces.
Suddenly, Zhenniang had a feeling that Sister Ge Qiu might have other motives.
After all, everyone knew Ge Dana had been killed by Madam Cao and Huang Lang’s machinations. Sister Ge Qiu wasn’t the type to contain her anger, yet since the incident, she hadn’t confronted Madam Cao—this seemed rather out of character.