Madam Li clung tightly to Guan Si’er, her whole heart and mind fixed on him alone—in that instant, everything else in the world dissolved away; she could see nothing else.
Guan Si’er helped her to the side, sat her down, and held her hand.
Inwardly he thought, ah, so this is a mother’s hand—different from his brothers’ hands, different from every warm thing he’d ever touched.
He even found himself staring earnestly at Madam Li’s belly, thinking, I lived in there for ten whole months.
A mother and son’s hearts are connected—Madam Li understood at once. She reached out, took Guan Si’er’s hand, and pressed it to her own stomach. Guan Si’er’s face flushed red instantly.
In the hall, Tang Jiuyuan, building on the local officials’ groundwork, found the retrial proceeding quite smoothly—Madam Zeng’s guilt was beyond dispute. Yet what no one could understand was this: surely every crime needs some kind of reason?
Why had Madam Zeng done this?
Her natal family had been well-matched with the Zhaos, and she had entered the Zhao household held in high regard by her parents-in-law; among the Zhao clan, young and old alike, there was scarcely anyone with a bad word to say about her.
She’d brought a generous dowry, married a husband unmatched in both learning and looks, and borne children who did her proud. What more could she have wanted?
Madam Zeng took Madam Li’s beating without resisting, without a word, letting herself be tormented. Even Tang Jiuyuan, a man not quick to resort to instruments of torture, grew angry enough to apply the finger-press, yet she fainted from the pain without so much as a sound.
A bucket of cold water revived her; another round of beating risked real harm.
Even Second Prince murmured from behind the curtain that there was no need to press further—since the evidence was complete, the case could simply be closed here and reported to the throne.
But Madam Li would not have it. For over twenty years she had often woken from nightmares, unable to recall exactly what she’d dreamed, only that each time she woke sitting bolt upright, clutching her chest, weeping as though her very heart were breaking.
She hadn’t understood why, not until now. She and her child shared one blood, one heart—when he suffered, she ached; when he was humiliated, she ached; when he risked his life on some battlefield, she lay awake through the night, her heart in knots.
Everyone said her life was a good one, and yet she had always felt something incomplete, always sensed something missing—something whose absence felt like flesh carved from bone.
There were things in life one could let go unresolved. But not this. If this were left unresolved, she thought, she would die with her eyes open, unable to rest.
Yet this was a court of law, and try as she might, Madam Li’s unwillingness to let it go showed plainly on her face.
Guan Si’er watched his mother carefully; her distress broke his heart. A mother and son’s hearts truly are connected—he released her hand, offered her a comforting smile, then looked up at Tang Jiuyuan. “Lord Tang, might this aggrieved party be permitted to ask a few questions?”
There was no reason to refuse. In all his years presiding over cases, Tang Jiuyuan had never encountered a woman quite so unyielding as Madam Zeng. She already bore old wounds, and today she’d been subjected to severe torture besides—there was little more to be done. He simply waved a hand, closed the case file, and let Guan Si’er proceed.
Someone brought over a chair. Guan Si’er walked slowly up to Madam Zeng, lifted the hem of his robe, and sat down unhurriedly.
Weak as she was, Madam Zeng sensed Guan Si’er’s approach and tried, with fingers wracked by pain, to push herself upright, hoping to maintain some shred of dignity—but the pain gave her nothing to brace against, and she collapsed awkwardly onto her side instead.
Looking at this rather frail woman, Guan Si’er felt only disbelief.
Back when he’d suffered in the Zhao household, he’d always loved slipping away to the Fifth Branch. The servants there all said Madam Wu of the Fifth Branch was the kindest of them all—any mistake made anywhere else in the household would bring trouble, but not there.
He remembered how, as a small child, he would hide behind a tree and watch this noble lady rise early every day, standing in the courtyard to see her five children off to the family school. She would smile as she straightened their clothes, smile as she checked their brushes and ink, and now and then find bugs, toys, or sweets tucked in their satchels—never scolding them for it, just laughing together with the children.
She was endlessly patient. Each time she checked their clothes, she would open the hems layer by layer, feeling for thickness—adding layers when the weather turned cold, and warning them again and again not to risk a chill when it turned hot.
She was always smiling, smiling like a bodhisattva of mercy.
And in those days, the small boy he’d once been had secretly wished—if only, if only she were his mother too.
But how could she have been a bodhisattva? She was a demon wrapped in monk’s robes.
Because he sat silently without speaking, Madam Zeng finally couldn’t help herself—her gaze crept slowly up from his boots, up and up, until it finally settled on that face wearing a faint smile.
He was smiling? Why would this little brat be smiling?
Guan Si’er’s smile unsettled Madam Zeng; she couldn’t meet his eyes, and quickly lowered her head again.
At this, Guan Si’er let out a short laugh. Finally he spoke. “Actually, you don’t need to say anything—I have no interest in listening…” Feeling a bit thirsty, he turned to the clerk transcribing testimony nearby. “Pour me a cup of your water.”
The clerk startled, hurried to fetch an unused cup, scalded it twice over, then presented the tea to Guan Si’er with both hands, apologizing, “This is only inferior tea dust, my lord…”
Guan Si’er shook his head to show it didn’t matter, took a few sips, and said, “Now then. I am, after all, the aggrieved party here, aren’t I?”
Madam Zeng kept her head lowered, motionless.
“So our two families are enemies now, aren’t we?”
Madam Zeng’s body stirred as if to look up, but she restrained herself.
Guan Si’er, unconcerned with her reaction, went on, “I imagine you’ve had word of things along the way, and know what sort of person I am now. So I suppose I ought to thank you—if not for all your trouble, I’d likely just be the youngest son at home, with no need to hold up the family name, no need for any grand ambitions. No one would expect me to carry the household on my shoulders or bring it honor. My mother suffered through a difficult labor bringing me into the world, struggling for two days before I was born—that alone earned me a bit of extra favor, and I got to be mischievous as I pleased…”
Madam Li let out a sudden sob, then bit her lip to hold it back, afraid of disturbing her son. Her eldest son came over and gently embraced her in comfort, and Madam Li buried her face in his chest, weeping silently.
Master Gong moved to support his wife and offer comfort, but she shoved him away at once.
Guan Si’er glanced once at his mother, then turned back with a smile and continued, “They say my grandfather’s family was a well-known merchant house, so my family certainly wasn’t short on money…” He turned and looked earnestly at Master Gong. “Father?”
Master Gong stiffened at once, tears bursting from his eyes, and after staring wide-eyed for a long moment, forced out with great effort, “Yes—yes! Son, go on, say it, say it…”
Guan Si’er bared his teeth in a grin. “Father, does our family have money?”
Master Gong nodded firmly. “We do! We do! Several thousand mu of fine farmland!”
Guan Si’er nodded. “Then as the youngest, with no accomplishments to speak of, if I hadn’t been stolen away, I’d definitely have turned out a wastrel. So—how many mu would I have gotten?”
Master Gong froze for a moment, then began laughing and crying at once. “Then—then if my son has no accomplishments, ah, then—then my son with no accomplishments would need extra favor, or else, or else I couldn’t rest easy even in death, afraid you’d have no skills to keep from starving—I’d have to give you at least half, no less than that…”
Guan Si’er laughed, thoroughly delighted, then turned to look at his two older brothers, both already in tears. These were his true brothers, so alike in looks to him that anyone, picking through a sea of ten thousand faces, would know at once—three brothers of the same blood.
He asked with a grin, “Big Brother! Second Brother!”
The two of them, sniffling, could say nothing at all, only nod.
Guan Si’er’s tone turned a touch petulant. “If Father favors me for having no accomplishments, giving me extra of the family fortune, what happens to you two?”
The two brothers froze, choked up for a long moment, until the one who looked most like Guan Si’er said, his voice thick, “That’s Father and Mother’s own property—theirs to give to whoever they please. Don’t you worry. If it’s not enough, your brother can make up the difference.”
Guan Si’er laughed lightly. “That won’t do—sister-in-law won’t allow it.”
His eldest brother said, “Nothing to be done if she doesn’t. Right? Who told our family to end up with just the one useless brother like you—we’re stuck with it, aren’t we…”
Finally Guan Si’er looked at the little cat-girl who’d long since buried her face in her brother’s shoulder, already sniffling, and said with certainty, “She’s my only little sister—I won’t fight you two for her share.”
A’Mao, who had been genuinely upset, burst into laughter at this and said with mock reproach, “Little Brother~!”
“…Ah.”
Guan Si’er answered sweetly, then, still smiling, turned to Madam Zeng, who looked on in bewildered incomprehension, and said, “You see? If you hadn’t stolen me away, I’d probably just be one more ordinary soul, living out an unremarkable life.”
He handed his empty teacup off to a nearby runner holding a wooden paddle. The startled runner dropped the paddle at once, bowed, and took the cup with both hands before retreating.
Guan Si’er thanked him, then lowered his head and said to Madam Zeng with a smile, “So you see, everyone hates you, but I, for one, ought to thank you. Thanks to you, Madam, I now hold the rank of sixth-grade Bureau Director in the Ministry of War, concurrently Chief Instructor of Blade Techniques for the Imperial Guard, and I bear an honorary marquisate besides.
His Majesty treats me like his own flesh and blood, I mix with the highest households in the capital, and I have brothers who treat me as true kin. I’m the youngest among them too—seventh in line! So whenever there’s some benefit going around, they all make sure I get my share. Oh, and I also have a wealthy fiancée—her family’s wealth, ten thousand mu of fine land, is only part of her dowry. And all of this—all of it—you gave me.”
Hatred filled Madam Zeng’s eyes, and she stared fixedly at Guan Si’er. “At this point, standing before someone about to die, what’s the point of saying all this?”
Guan Si’er laughed lightly. “How is there no point? There’s plenty of point. Do you know—from now on, you’re my enemy. I’m your enemy, and the current Prince Ruian is your enemy too. The prince is your enemy, which makes His Majesty your natural enemy as well. Don’t believe me? I’ll make sure you do. You want to die—but I won’t let you.”
He suddenly stood, walked to the edge of the hall, and surveyed Madam Zeng’s terrified children one by one. Judging their ages, he grabbed hold of a refined-looking young scholar, hauled him over like a chick by the scruff, flung him down before Madam Zeng, and threw him to the ground. Madam Zeng drew a sharp, horrified breath.
She reached out both hands, powerless to stop him, only to watch this—this monster—raise his foot and press it down on her son’s face, smiling with vicious malice. “This is your youngest son, isn’t it? Look at him—doesn’t he look like he’s got promise?”
“Ah—!” Madam Zeng, so composed until now, suddenly went mad. She lunged forward, her swollen red hands seizing Guan Si’er’s leg and hauling with all her strength. “What are you doing, what are you doing—if you want to kill, to torture, then come at me! I did all of it, I did it! It had nothing to do with them…”
Of course she couldn’t budge his leg in the slightest. Guan Si’er sneered. “Come at you? What fun would that be? I’m only an honorary marquis, but a marquis all the same—what’s your family compared to that? This is the Yong’an era now, and you dared steal me and sell me off, and now you think you can shoulder this crime alone? Dreaming a bit too big, aren’t you?
Given the lives you’ve taken with your own hands, everyone who deserves to be implicated because of you will be—not one of them will get away. Even if you somehow slip through this, as long as I stand at this court, there’ll be no future for anyone bearing the surname Zhao. Bullying infants—what kind of skill is that? Rest assured, these five children of yours, and the natal family that raised a poisonous woman like you—I won’t spare a single one…”
Threatened where it mattered most, Madam Zeng completely broke down. Watching her beloved child crushed beneath a foot, struggling helplessly, unable to fight back herself, she screamed for help, begging everyone around her—her husband looked away, her sons refused to meet her eyes…
Tears streaming, she crawled across the floor searching for help, reaching to embrace Madam Li’s legs, pleading, “Sister, sister, we got along so well once, don’t you remember? I made A’Mao a skirt, I was never stingy with your daughter-in-law’s meeting gift—this is the only thing I’ve ever wronged you in, I beg you, in my next life I’ll serve as an ox or a horse to atone, punish me so I’m never reborn human again if you like, every crime here is mine alone, it has nothing to do with Fifth Brother, I beg you, cut me to a thousand pieces if you must, just say yes?”
She lifted her face to look at Madam Li, begging bitterly, “Hit me! Hit me as hard as you like—didn’t you want to cut out my heart?”
She suddenly tore open her own clothing, exposing herself completely, all shame forgotten, laughing as she said, “Go on… cut it out…”
But before she could finish, someone seized her by the hair and flung her to the ground. Guan Si’er spat at her. “Now—are you afraid?”
Madam Zeng sniffled, nodding rapidly like a chicken pecking rice, submitting at last. “Afraid—terrified, terrified, truly afraid, I’m afraid…”
The onlookers said nothing at all, unable to describe what they felt in their hearts—words simply failed to capture it.
Guan Si’er crouched down and helped the shameless woman close her clothing, saying, “Leave a woman some dignity. You may not care for your own, but your children, the women who’ll marry into your family’s connections—they still have to live in this world.”
After all this turmoil, Madam Zeng clutched her clothes and began to weep, laughing through her tears. “I’m a dying woman too—can’t you spare me a little dignity?”
Guan Si’er shook his head silently. Madam Zeng seemed to sink into some distant memory, and whatever she was recalling, she finally said, “Too late, too late. From the very first moment, I knew I’d gone mad… At twelve, my father held a literary gathering, and I saw him, and that was when I fell into this madness. Things were so good then, so carefree.
All the scholars of our county came to sit in my family’s home, and my sisters and I hid behind the screen to watch them converse. He was so handsome—out of a whole courtyard full of people, I could see no one but him. He stood out among them all, as magnificent as a white crane against the sky. I was utterly captivated. Then~ my third aunt teased me, asked, sweet girl, are you picking out a husband for yourself?
And I said, yes, that tallest crane there, the most handsome one—he’s going to be my husband. The whole family laughed at me… they all laughed, and I laughed too. Only later did I learn he was a talent renowned throughout the land, a brilliant scholar of Fengwu Academy. I loved him so very much…”
Madam Zeng turned to look at Zhao Changxi, whose spirit had long since shattered, and sighed. “He’s still just as handsome now, and yet I hate him so…”
Zhao Changxi stared at her in astonishment, but Madam Zeng no longer looked at him.
Her voice, as she spoke, seemed to drift back to age twelve—that little girl infatuated with an exceptional young man, longing to marry him, studying with everything she had, mastering every accomplishment she could, waiting and hoping day after day, until finally she grew up, finally their two families proved well-matched, and at sixteen she got what she wished for.
She smiled like a bride. “At sixteen I entered the Zhao household, bowing low before my parents-in-law. My own mother wept at home, restless and troubled. A tender bud just beginning to bloom, I traveled a thousand li alone, devoting my whole life to one man… I was so happy back then, in my hometown I too was known for my talents, pretty besides, accomplished in every virtue—so many sought my hand, and I refused them all. My mother loved me enough to let me have my way, and happily married me to the man I loved. I was so pleased, I even gave my dowry maid a new name—Duo Ruyi, ‘may everything go as wished’… ha ha ha ha ha, as wished…”
The old servant kneeling nearby, Duo Popo, stared at her mistress, face pale, tears streaming, and called out, “Miss.”
Madam Zeng had never meant to speak of any of this, but she could no longer hold it back.
She laughed, wretched and disheveled, blood filling her mouth as she smiled. “I brought my dowry with me, arrived so happily, dreamed the whole way there—I wanted to give him many, many children just like him. But… after traveling all that way, on our very wedding night, he left me alone. Everyone here, can you believe it? Our wedding night, and he abandoned me? I traveled thirteen hundred li from home to marry him, and just because Gong Zhiyi wrote some prize-winning essay, he cast me aside. Cast me aside!!”
Zhao Changxi swayed on his feet, gripping a nearby pillar, shaking his head in disbelief.
Madam Zeng had thrown all restraint aside now, sparing him no dignity as she continued. “The Zhao household was so vast, so many people in it, and yet I only ever knew him—but he cast me aside. From an evening at the Orchid Pavilion to a lonely moon that broke my heart, every dream shattered, everything gone… I asked myself, is this all my life will ever be?”
She looked around at everyone and suddenly cried out, “But I can never go home to my own family again!!! Never again!!”
Guan Si’er found himself oddly struck—he’d been kidnapped and sold because a woman had been left alone on her wedding night while her husband stayed up late writing essays by lamplight?
Madam Zeng, one hand clutching her collar, clawed at the empty air with the other, grasping at nothing, and let out a string of cackling laughter. “I thought it would get better, surely it would get better. He didn’t come to me, didn’t love me—was I not good enough? Then I’ll be more virtuous, more gentle, more patient… it was no use. I did everything expected of me, and yet the name Gong Zhiyi became inseparable from my wretched existence from then on. On our wedding night he was busy with some prize essay; when I was ten months pregnant, they held the Fengwu literary competition, and I struggled three days to give birth with not one kind word from him. That husband of mine, just because he lost to that man by a single rank—he went on a hunger strike! Ha! He stopped eating?
My mother-in-law blamed me for failing to serve my husband properly, and through my own grief I had no choice but to swallow my pain and go comfort him… That was when I understood—as long as he never rose high enough, as long as he could never beat Gong Zhiyi… his eyes would never fall on us, a widow and orphan in all but name…”
“You—what nonsense are you speaking? How are you a widow and orphan?”
Zhao Changxi, silent until now, suddenly spoke, his voice trembling.
But Madam Zeng didn’t turn to look at him, only murmured, “Everyone always told me, your husband is so accomplished, your husband is so brilliant, a dragon among men! What more could you possibly want? But I was so cold… thirty-five years of marriage, and not a single day passed that he wasn’t burning himself up, tormenting himself, single-mindedly obsessed with beating Gong Zhiyi… ha ha, who would believe it?
As long as Gong Zhiyi beat him, our household couldn’t function. When Gong Zhiyi took first place in the provincial exam, our whole family couldn’t even eat—he flipped over the table. When he finally, after two attempts, passed the metropolitan exam in the capital, I thought then… gods, you’ve finally given me a way out, ha ha ha, but no—no way out at all!”
Madam Zeng cackled, staring at Zhao Changxi, who had covered his face, and, not even certain anymore what she had lived her life for, she said, “I spent a full year preparing—three months pregnant, and I already had people searching for a house in Yandu. I thought I’d finally escaped to freedom… ha ha ha, don’t say an iron heart cannot break—even an iron heart breaks in the end (Qing dynasty, Guan Ying’s line)—in the end, how many pieces of my heart and gut are left to break for you, Zhao Changxi. That man suddenly gave up his official post, and the house in Yandu was bought for nothing—we had to move to the mountains instead? Just because Gong Zhiyi wanted to teach, Zhao Changxi had to have his own students spread across the world too…
I hated it, I hated it so much I didn’t even know if I was missing an arm or a leg… how did life turn out so wretched? I hated it, I wanted so badly to burn it all down, burn down that whole Fengwu Mountain! I sank deeper and deeper—even my charity, my incense offerings, were filthy with it, ten lifetimes couldn’t wash the grime from my soul, ha ha ha, but why, why, why, why, why, ah?”
The woman suddenly began singing, some little tune about spring longing…
Guan Si’er shook his head. By this point, anyone with eyes, with the slightest thought to spare, could understand.
This woman had long since gone mad. Lacking the courage to defy her husband, she’d taken her revenge out on an infant instead. When she tried to leave, the child held her back, so she struck at him; she’d even planted an illegitimate child on her husband to smear his name, sinking deeper and deeper into her madness…
It was unthinkable, and yet, in its own twisted way, it made perfect sense.
Madam Zeng had gone completely mad now, muttering to herself where she sat—one moment reminiscing about the good days at her natal home, the next recounting the best moments of her life, then slipping back into madness, spitting out a string of names of courtesans and concubines…
Guan Si’er, finally unwilling to listen further, stood and walked over to Madam Li, who sat drained and limp, half-collapsed against her eldest son.
He slowly crouched before her. “Mother! Let’s go. I’ll carry you home…”
The sky was hazy, touched with the first light of dawn.
Madam Zeng, all shame forgotten now, chest bared, hands gesturing wildly through the air, went on narrating her life, the hatred she’d suppressed for a lifetime—it seemed unlikely she’d finish anytime soon.
Guan Si’er carried his mother away from that place. As they reached the door, Master Gong shook his head helplessly and turned to leave with a flick of his sleeve, only to hear someone call out behind him: “Ju—Junior brother?”
Everyone turned to see Zhao Changxi looking at Gong Zhiyi with a face full of pleading. “Even if I died a thousand times, ten thousand times, I could never wash this sin from myself. But my children—they truly knew nothing of this…”
Gong Zhiyi didn’t wait for him to finish. He walked straight up to him, eyes blazing, and stared him down without a word.
At last, all he said was: “Feh!”
It was a blissfully happy morning. Guan Si’er, his steps light, carried his mother home to Scholar’s Street, passing beneath the long memorial archway.
When Guan Si’er brought Chen Dasheng home for the first time and told his parents about that chastity archway, treating it as a bit of gossip, they laughed until their faces glowed with joy.
The clouds above drifted freely at their own pace; the vines along the wall withered as they pleased.
They passed many people along the way, and before anyone could speak, Master Gong would grab whoever it was, stranger or not, and say, this is my son.
No one dared intrude on such a reunion. Even with all his worries weighing on him, Chen Dasheng simply followed his brother quietly to the mouth of the alley, then watched silently as they walked off into the distance…
Back home, Madam Li went straight to the kitchen herself, wanting to cook her son a proper breakfast.
The mother asked her son, “My dear child, what would you like to eat?”
The dear child said, “Whatever Mother makes, I’ll eat!”
They ended up cooking a great feast, and gathered around the round table, everyone piling food onto Guan Si’er’s plate. Seeing him eat well made them happy; seeing him eat plenty made the whole family happier still.
Once full, no one felt like sleeping. They sat quietly beneath the eaves, saying nothing, not minding the cold at all—only feeling how good the breeze was, how complete the world felt…
That day, Zhao Changxi took his own life at home. Madam Zeng was led away, and from then on, no one ever knew what became of her.