At the Chang household’s house-warming, most of the guests who came were young gentlemen, though there were also a few rarely-seen elder officials who paid a visit—not for the Chang family’s sake, but for Blessed Auspicious Commandery Prince.
She Qingling wasn’t fond of bustle, and didn’t arrive at the Chang residence until after the midday meal. Marquis Chang personally waited for him at Qinwei Lane. After eating a meal at home, he sauntered over in a light fur cloak, carrying under his arm a scroll he’d painted that very morning—the ink not yet dry—a winter mist over Baiquan Mountain, as a congratulatory gift.
This alone was no small thing. In his eyes, he still thought highly of Zheng Aman, Li Jinggui, and Chang Lianfang—these few children often wandered about near His Majesty and knew each other well, and their character was beyond reproach besides.
By the time he arrived, seeing the group of elder officials with faces like tree bark, he was delighted—no wonder, they were all connections he’d made back when he worked in the Ministry of Finance, and it truly had been a long time since he’d seen them.
And so this crowd of elder officials occupied the best spot in Qipan Courtyard to chat idly, while the steaming-hot Marquis Chang Mianshen didn’t dare say much, standing to the side watching in disbelief.
These were all officials with real power in the civil bureaucracy—he had nothing much to say to them, and yet they’d all come anyway. Never mind that he was a marquis—there were some people you simply couldn’t reach no matter how you tried; the line between civil and military officials had always been distinct since ancient times.
That old saying really wasn’t wrong—good is rewarded with good, evil with evil. Three years ago, what state had the Chen family been in—the man of the house was an indentured servant, while the wife managing the household counted every single coin trying to trade old clothes for grain.
If he himself hadn’t seen through that young woman’s true nature at a glance and felt she was worth cultivating, ordering his household not to slight her, how could his youngest son be enjoying such a good life now? That family’s conscience truly meant something—never mind that he himself was a marquis, he couldn’t have built his own son such a fine estate.
It wasn’t that he lacked the money—it was that he didn’t dare.
Thinking of this, Marquis Chang recalled the windfall from the war that his two daughters-in-law had secretly split between themselves, and felt even more uncomfortable. He looked up and glared at his eldest son Chang Lianqi and second son Chang Lianxu, who were accompanying guests—the two of them, feeling guilty, lowered their heads to look at the ground.
In truth, all he could do was glare—Marquis Chang understood well enough that the Chang household had already divided its property long ago; what people had already pulled into their own embrace couldn’t be spat back out. Both palms and the backs of hands were flesh all the same—fairness belonged to the law, to the surface of the court, but what was he to do now?
He could only muddle through and let it be.
His youngest son, harboring resentment, had moved out and was throwing a grand house-warming banquet for guests, yet was unwilling to ask the family for help—clearly the hurt ran deep, and he himself felt guilty about it in his heart.
Who would have thought that his sworn elder brother would turn around and give his sworn younger brother such a grand showing? Look at who had come—the Commandery Prince of unmatched rank in the current court, the Hidden Chancellor, and several officials with real power besides. His youngest son knew how to make connections himself—never mind that he’d been away from the capital for three years, the ones who came were all first-rate young gentlemen.
Zheng Aman, Li Jinggui, and Chen Dasheng stood right at the gate to welcome guests for his youngest son. What great face that was.
Ah, it seemed his youngest son would only grow further and further from the family from now on…
The elder officials, gathered together, were actually quite lively—one calling another a grandson, another calling the first a monkey, mocking each other back and forth with laughter. After a while, an elder official from the Ministry of Finance surnamed Zhang suggested that everyone write some hanging scrolls, square-format calligraphy, or couplets as house-warming gifts.
This bunch normally looked down on everyone and valued every character of their calligraphy as worth a thousand pieces of gold—yet now they were willing to casually write something for his youngest son?
Chang Mianshen was overjoyed, and was about to jump up to have brush, ink, paper, and inkstone prepared, when he heard Blessed Auspicious Commandery Prince say with a laugh: “Old Marquis, don’t fall for their trick. Listen to me—just go buy something for a few hundred coppers at the street bookshops or antique stores. These fellows never make a losing deal, that’s how they are! They’ve heard you brought back sixty-year-old rice wine from the south—never mind sixty years, even ten-year-old rice wine is hard to come by these days…”
Marquis Chang, straightforward by nature, laughed and said: “My dear Commandery Prince, it’s just wine! Plenty to go around! We fought at the front for three years, and thanks to you and the other officials arranging supplies through many channels, truly—since the previous dynasty, following His Majesty in campaigns everywhere, it was this suppression campaign that we fought most satisfyingly. The provisions kept up, not a bit of hardship suffered…
As for that sixty-year-old wine, that’s all nonsense they made up. But we did haul back a few cartloads of thirty-year-old rice wine—it’s just that I have a weakness for that particular drink, and fearing I’d get drunk and delay military affairs, I didn’t dare touch it at the front, so I saved it until now. Today, everyone, just write as you please—we’ve got nothing else, but this wine, there’s plenty of it!”
Once he finished speaking, the old men grew especially delighted, and each happily picked up brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, writing casually whatever came to mind—”passing down the family way lies in honesty and simplicity,” “handling affairs without cleverness but with sincerity,” and the like… it counted as a respectable showing.
Once they finished writing, Chang Mianshen personally went up to collect the pieces, and with great solemnity ordered someone to immediately invite a master mounter from an old shop in Yandu with over a hundred years of history to come to the house—these pieces would be his youngest son’s family heirlooms from now on.
Whether he understood calligraphy and painting or not, Marquis Chang’s attitude here was never wrong—he lifted the officials up high with his praise, and everyone laughed heartily, all parties pleased.
While the elders enjoyed themselves here, the young people were having their own lively time in the outer courtyard. Chang Lianfang’s Qipan Courtyard was truly spacious—today’s guests numbered one or two hundred, many bringing their families along, yet the space accommodated them all with ease.
In every courtyard, people were listening to storytelling, watching operas, playing dominoes—Chen Dasheng had even invited several famous wrestling champions from the capital to liven things up, to give his sworn younger brother a grand showing.
During his most wretched years, Chang Lianfang had acknowledged him, had helped him—this bond of friendship he could not forget.
Men watching wrestling naturally got worked up, shouting at the top of their lungs. The noise couldn’t be contained, carrying across two courtyards into the women’s quarters at the back.
Today Qiqian’er was thoroughly distracted, mixing up tallies twice, and finally, unable to continue with the tasks at hand, she left the Chang residence and quietly went to the old family estate.
At the old estate, the Old Madam was playing dominoes with two maids using strings of copper coins. Xique, already old enough to understand things, hid behind the Old Madam, cheating a little to help her put together a matching pair, winning over thirty coppers from the maids.
The Old Madam slapped the dominoes down with a resounding clap, looking every bit the old gambler. Having won, she waved grandly and said to Xique: “Won! Xique, go string up Grandma’s coins for her.”
Xique sat up, smiling, spreading both arms wide, snatching the coins from the wailing maids and piling them together, then stringing them one by one with red thread.
Watching them like this, Qiqian’er, whose heart had been somewhat unsettled, laughed out loud.
“Ah, why are you back?”
The Old Madam saw her come in and smiled, beckoning her to sit.
Qiqian’er sat down, looked around, and asked: “Where’s Ting’er? Usually if you don’t look for him, he’s out somewhere dragging a stick around, chasing after cat and dog shadows. Everything’s so lively over there today, but I haven’t seen him at all?”
The Old Madam’s hand paused while shuffling the tiles, but she smiled and said to Yiyue and Eryue: “Heh, why are you looking for him? He’s plenty troublesome enough without you adding to it! You two go carry the girl over to Qipan Courtyard to watch the opera.”
Having said this, she turned and coaxed patiently: “Sweetheart, why don’t you go watch the opera over at Little Flower Elder Brother’s place, hm?”
Xique nodded, smiling, and reached out her hands to Eryue.
Watching Eryue carry Xique away, Qiqian’er finally heard the Old Madam say behind her: “Early this morning, the steward from Fourth Uncle’s side came to fetch the child, saying Qiao Shi is pregnant again, feeling unwell and missing the child, not quite herself.”
Qiqian’er turned back and asked the Old Madam: “Did they only come to fetch the boy again?”
The Old Madam, helplessly, picked up the box while putting away the dominoes and said: “Ah, yes, only fetched Lanting. From what I gathered over there, someone had a divination done, and it seems this pregnancy might be a girl again—so, well, our Lanting has become valuable again.”
These past years, Chen Sini had been drifting about Yandu like a lost soul; even though he’d returned, he never crossed paths with Qiqian’er and the others.
That year, over the matter with Xique, the Yang family had ultimately paid out fifty thousand taels—about sixty thousand strings—in compensation. Chen Sini had thrown a fit and taken away half of it. He was Xique’s biological father, the natural aggrieved party, and even in a lawsuit, the Old Madam couldn’t keep hold of that money—being able to keep half was already good fortune.
Once the Yang family’s matter was settled, they’d found some connections to have themselves posted away from the capital. From then on, Chen Dazhong and his brothers had kept their fourth uncle firmly in check.
Chen Sini had spent a great deal of money trying to get ahead, yet remained a minor clerk recording tree species, his heart filled with resentment. He’d first taken in two concubines from local Yandu families to ease his frustration. During this time, these two concubines had borne him two daughters each, which was exactly what made young Lanting valuable.
Qiao Shi, with her clever scheming mind, sent people every few days to fetch Lanting—only Xique, this daughter, the couple never wished to see.
The Old Madam said it was because they felt too guilty to face her, but Qiqian’er knew better—it was that Xique now understood things, had seen too much of her parents’ unseemly behavior, and so they simply rejected the child, pretending nothing had happened.
Qiqian’er, worried the Old Madam would feel upset, comforted her: “It’s not worth getting angry over. What kind of life do you lead, and what kind do they lead? Let’s make it up to Xique more in the future—her days won’t turn out badly.”
The Old Madam, not wanting to dwell on those two vexing creatures, put away the box and asked Qiqian’er: “Aren’t you supposed to be busy right now? Why did you come over?”
At this, Qiqian’er’s cheeks immediately flushed red. She couldn’t very well say that the consummation ceremony originally planned for the sixth of December might not happen after all. Your grandson isn’t the least bit anxious, but I certainly am. How was she supposed to put this into words?
Truly at a loss, she could only make some idle small talk, then stood up to head back to Qipan Courtyard.
Never mind that this young wife had things on her mind—when it came to managing the entire day’s house-warming affairs, the main accounts didn’t have a single error in them. All the guests were thoroughly delighted, everyone praising how the Chang family’s banquet was both grand and properly ordered—the Chen family’s household manager, indeed, was as capable as the rumors said.
By nightfall, once the accounts were settled, Qiqian’er finally stretched out and asked those around her: “Ah, that’s a full day. Let’s head back—call your master, and our Old Master too, our family’s going home.”
Instead, Jixiang’s wife came in and said: “Madam, let’s go back ourselves. The Old Master and Eldest Master are both still in the back watching the wrestling—your servant would guess they’ll be up late.”
Qiqian’er paused slightly and asked: “Many people there?”
Jixiang’s wife replied: “Quite a lot. Your servant quietly had my husband count—there are forty or fifty people.”
“Have the kitchen fires been kept going?”
“Yes, three stoves are kept lit, and the night watch has been arranged too—shifts changing every two hours. Madam, rest assured, there won’t be any mistakes.”
With this, Qiqian’er finally led a group of matrons and maidservants away from Qipan Courtyard, but halfway along the road, she sent them all back, and took only Siyue with her toward the street.
Quanhou Street was home to officials, and every household hung a row of lanterns along the eaves for the convenience of passersby. The night road wasn’t dark; light shone everywhere. Qingfeng had no curfew, yet there were few pedestrians about.
Along the way, they happened upon a monk making his night watch rounds; seeing women approaching from a distance, he turned to face the wall, silently reciting scripture.
Qiqian’er walked about, and wherever there was a trace of An’er’s presence, she would pause a while, looking for a moment.
She could see that thin, frail child again, carrying his little tattered book bag, going back and forth along this old street. That child hadn’t even lived a few years, yet because of his useless mother, he’d suffered countless hardships in this world.
Those gates, those temple doors, were all the same as before, yet now there was Qinwei Lane added, all the Chen family’s relatives added—two lifetimes of change, and just when things had finally reached the right day, now something had gone wrong again?
If Chen Dasheng wasn’t there on the sixth of December, what would become of her An’er?
She walked slowly to beneath those few great willow trees, and seemed once again to see, beneath the trees, a plump child round as a bear cub riding astride a frail, thin child, laughing loudly, while the pale-faced child, covered in cold sweat, crawled forward slowly along the ground—the moment he paused, the sturdy child would whip him with a small switch…
Her heart aching sharply, Qiqian’er leaned against the tree trunk and thought: An’er, is it because you resent me for not being able to protect you back then, that you refuse to be my child?
But it’s different now. The Yang family exhausted all their resources just to get a minor clerk position at a border town in the Ministry of Finance, and moved the whole family away.
That Wen Shi had been sent to a nunnery in Yandu—she’d gotten her retribution. Qiao Shi now had only one path left in her heart—fighting endlessly with the two concubines—she could never leave the inner quarters. Her fate would only be that of a concubine whose name would never even be recorded in the ancestral registry.
My child, do you see, your mother has already smoothed the road ahead for you…
Feeling unwell in her heart, Qiqian’er gripped the willow trunk hard, only to find—whatever strength she had now—that this grip had torn off a large chunk of the tree’s good bark.
“Wife?”
Chen Dasheng’s voice came from behind her. Qiqian’er felt a jolt in her heart, and quickly turned around, hands behind her back, tossing away the torn bark and wood.
Chen Dasheng had had a few extra cups of wine tonight, having been accompanying his father watching the wrestling champions compete, when a servant reported that Madam seemed unhappy and was wandering all over Quanhou Street.
Since he and Qiqian’er had been together, he’d never seen his wife act like this—seeing her flustered, Chen Dasheng grew flustered too, and so, abandoning even his sworn brother and father, threw on a coat and came looking for his wife.
The young couple gazed at each other silently for a moment, and Chen Dasheng finally asked: “Today, who upset you?”
Was it those two detestable sisters-in-law of Little Flower’s, or some shameless lowlife looking for trouble on the street, or something else? If he found out who had angered his little wife, he certainly wouldn’t let it go.
But Qiqian’er shook her head: “No, how could that be? Who would dare upset me? It’s just all the people coming and going, the noise and confusion—I finally got a moment’s peace.” She pointed at the bright moon in the sky and smiled: “The moonlight is lovely tonight, I just wanted to walk around and get some air.”
Chen Dasheng relaxed and went to support her, saying: “Walking around is fine, but why bring only Siyue along? Out here in the dark, if something happened, and you ran into some blind fool of a troublemaker… good thing Jixiang’s wife was steady enough to have someone quietly follow you. Don’t do this again next time.”
Having been an official for a long time now, his manner of speaking had become unbelievably composed—one couldn’t tell joy from anger in his voice, nor guess at his thoughts.
Qiqian’er thought to herself, troublemaker indeed—it would be good enough if she didn’t go looking for trouble with others herself.
But in Chen Dasheng’s eyes, she was just a sharp-tongued, soft-hearted little wife with no strength to even truss a chicken, and he worried about her, cared for her deeply.
Being cared for and cherished by someone was always a good thing. Qiqian’er knew this was good, so she nodded and smiled: “I understand. I’ll be careful from now on.”
Having said this, she tilted her head back to look at the sky, thinking to herself: Mother’s An’er, do you see this? Your father isn’t the same as before anymore either.
He’s right by your mother’s side now, holds a high office, and has found you a grandfather who’s a prince to back you up. He’ll keep watching over you from now on, give you the best life in this world—he’ll carry you on his shoulders like other fathers do, take you riding on little ponies you can’t even imagine now, carve you the little wooden swords you want. My child, don’t be afraid, come to us—your mother misses you so much… you have an old grandmother who dotes on you now, a grandfather who dotes on you now… An’er, it’s different now!
Chen Dasheng’s eyes followed his wife’s gaze up to the sky. Worried she might be caught up in her thoughts, he said: “Then let me walk around with you a while.”
Qiqian’er nodded: “All right.”
And so the young couple walked slowly along the old street toward the back mountain. Their shadows stretched long, and only after a good while did the maidservants and manservants, light on their feet, line up to follow behind.
Along the way, they again encountered the night-watch monk—this time, with a man present, the monk stopped and recited scripture, while Chen Dasheng stood still, but only fished seven or eight copper coins from the pouch at his waist, dropping them into the alms bowl with rather shabby stinginess.
The monk was momentarily stunned. This monk was a member of a nearby temple, responsible for the night watch on the old street district at night, and begging for alms in the area during the day.
Such a great lord, and only a few copper coins? Where was this? This was Quanhou Street, after all?
Qiqian’er, embarrassed, pulled Chen Dasheng along and hurried off; only once they’d turned a corner and could no longer see the monk did they finally laugh.
“Lost money gambling?”
Qiqian’er raised an eyebrow and asked Chen Dasheng.
Chen Dasheng stiffened at this, and Qiqian’er laughed again.
In truth, those rules set down long ago had long since ceased to exist—the man before her was now a hawk soaring through the skies; how could those broken old rules dare to constrain him?
“It’s nothing, if I lost, I lost. Starting next month, I’ll—I’ll raise your allowance by a whole string of cash!!”
Chen Dasheng, hardly short of that little sum, still put on a look of surprise on cue and said: “Really?!”
Qiqian’er nodded firmly: “Mm, from now on, if you really can’t get out of it, playing a little is fine, just don’t overdo it.”
Chen Dasheng laughed, scratching the back of his head, then finally took Qiqian’er’s hand and promised: “Wife, don’t worry, I don’t really enjoy this sort of thing, it’s only to please Father—he wants to beat me at it…”
Qiqian’er nodded, then suddenly asked him: “When are you setting off?”
Chen Dasheng was startled, finally understanding why his wife had been unhappy today.
Three years married, and having finally waited out his wife’s mourning period, the family had stocked up a great deal in preparation for a grand consummation ceremony for them—yet now he had to head into the mountains by imperial decree to train troops.
These three years, as he himself had risen higher and higher in rank, the pressure on his wife could not be said to be small. Though Chen Dasheng hadn’t asked in detail, he knew well enough how people gossiped outside. Nothing more than that he himself kept rising in status while his wife’s humble origins meant she didn’t match him in looks, family background, or anything else.
It wasn’t until his father had grandly renovated the estate, with his wife handling everything from start to finish, thorough and proper in every regard, that those rumors had finally been suppressed.
Now he thought—aside from all that surface talk, his sworn brothers’ families kept adding children one after another, and his wife was probably… probably feeling uneasy too.
Thinking of this, he said apologetically: “There’s no help for it. His Majesty felt the new recruits didn’t look like soldiers at all, and my side just recruited new troops too—these rascals… eh, well, these people, haven’t tasted hardship yet. His Majesty trusts me, which is why he’s having me take people to the old military camp in the mountains, to knock some of that restless air out of them…”
They finally reached the foot of Baiquan Mountain, and rather than go in, turned back to head home.
Qiqian’er asked again: “So there’s an old military camp in the mountains too?”
This wasn’t anything that couldn’t be said, so Chen Dasheng said: “Yes, that place has treacherous terrain, most suitable for training troops. Actually, the previous dynasty built the camp there already—it’s just a shame the good idea was never put to use, which turned out convenient for us.”
Qiqian’er stopped in her tracks, staring fixedly into Chen Dasheng’s eyes, and asked: “Then—can family members come along?”
“Pfft… cough cough…”
Chen Dasheng wanted to laugh, but forced himself to hold it back.
Under the moonlight, his little wife’s eyes were bright and clear, gazing at him so earnestly.
Truly adorable!
Chen Dasheng took a breath, and seeing the servants with their backs turned in the distance, suddenly reached out and embraced Qiqian’er, saying: “Silly girl, that place up there is a rundown camp with nothing to speak of, doesn’t even have a proper kitchen. What good would it do you to go there?
Cough, you—we, don’t be anxious… that, by the twelfth month I’ll be back home. I’ve already spoken with father about it—we’ll have the nun from Qingque Nunnery pick us a good day, and we… our good days are still ahead of us.”
Hearing his tone, Qiqian’er understood that going up the mountain wasn’t forbidden, and her heart was completely put at ease—the world instantly brightened, her heart blossomed, everything turned beautiful… as for the rest, she’d hardly heard any of it, nor did she want to.
Chen Dasheng had no idea his wife had already made her own little plans in her heart. Little Flower’s house-warming lasted three days, and he seriously played the attentive guest for all three, giving his sworn brother full face. Only once it was all over did he take his father and brothers back to the capital to report for duty, then, dragging their luggage along, led troops into the deep mountain military camp in a great bustling procession…
Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, the first snow had come and gone. On the morning of the sixth of December, the Old Madam was still sleeping soundly under her covers, a broad, sweet smile on her face, dreaming of pulling radishes—an endless field of radishes, all belonging to the Old Chen family.
Suddenly she heard someone calling her: “Grandmother, wake up! Grandmother, wake up?”
The Old Madam was startled awake, opening her eyes suddenly to see Qiqian’er standing by the kang, then turned to look at the window lattice—outside was still pitch black.
She sat up in alarm and asked: “Ah? Ah? What’s wrong, what’s wrong?”
Qian’er was normally such a steady person—coming here before dawn like this, what major event could have happened?
Qiqian’er, seeing the Old Madam trembling slightly, quickly grabbed hold of her, and leaning in with a mysterious expression, said: “Grandmother, guess who I dreamed of last night?”
The Old Madam, frightened, asked with a shiver: “Who?”
Qiqian’er nodded with certainty: “An ancestor!”
The Old Madam was stunned: “What?”
Qiqian’er’s face drew even closer, and the Old Madam shrank back; Qiqian’er’s expression grew even more mysterious: “A white-bearded old man, he said he was the Chen family’s ancestor.”
The Old Madam was so startled she coughed, and after coughing for a while, said somewhat resentfully: “You, are you having a nightmare-induced delusion?”
But Qiqian’er shook her head: “How could that be? I’ve, I’ve lived this long and never had such a clear dream before. Grandmother, listen to me…”
She scooted closer, and the Old Madam retreated step by step into the corner of the kang cabinet.
“Grandmother, that dream was so clear. A white-bearded old man, he told me he was my ancestor, and I didn’t believe him, I said, you say you’re my ancestor, and that’s supposed to just be true?”
The Old Madam said angrily and loudly: “That’s right! Whose old scoundrel is this, wandering around for no reason?”
But Qiqian’er said: “But that old man raised both his palms at me and said, go ask Ma Ye, who I am. I looked, and both of this old man’s hands had severed-line palms, Grandmother…”
The moment Qiqian’er said this, the Old Madam was startled.
It was no wonder—her own given name was Ma Ye; Ma Ye was a kind of wild vegetable from her hometown, and her sisters were all named after wild vegetables too. And besides, her own late father-in-law had had severed-line palms on both hands.
Cold sweat visibly ran down the Old Madam’s forehead. Qiqian’er had only gradually learned these things from chatting idly with the Old Madam in her previous life—but in this life, the Old Madam surely had no way of knowing that, which was exactly why she was so frightened now.
Still pretending, Qiqian’er grabbed hold of the Old Madam and said indignantly: “Tell me, whose old man is this, showing up in my dream like that, it’s making me so angry, Grandmother…”
Before she could finish, Qiqian’er received a slap. The Old Madam, worked up, wanted to jump up, and scolded: “You child, are your eyes really that blind? Who else could it be? That was your great-grandfather! Oh my, it’s not just any ancestor come to visit—what did he say? Is he short of offerings down there?”
Saying this, she wanted to slap herself twice—these past years she’d only burned paper offerings generously for her husband, children, grandchildren, and daughters-in-law, while the offerings for the ancestors had really been quite meager.
Well now, look at this—they’d come knocking on the door asking for things. How unfilial!
Qiqian’er, seeing the Old Madam falling for it, put on a puzzled look: “Ah, it really was an ancestor?”
The Old Madam nodded with certainty, feeling a wave of numbness all over, feeling cold, and threw on a robe, asking: “Of course it was an ancestor—your great-grandfather had severed-line palms on both hands. Back then when he struck your grandfather, that one slap down, your grandfather… ah, never mind that now. What did the old man say to you?”
Qiqian’er said very cooperatively: “Ah, I didn’t even get a chance to speak, my great-grandfather was in such a hurry to talk, he went on and on so urgently I couldn’t get a word in.”
The Old Madam nodded repeatedly at this: “Right, right, your great-grandfather had a bit of a stutter, and once he got going on something he could go on for ages in a fluster—who could ever get a word in over him?”
The maids had lit the lamps, and Qiqian’er, seeing the light was no longer frightening, sent them out, then pulled the Old Madam close and said quietly: “You said it was ancestor great-grandfather, well, great-grandfather then. Our family’s great-grandfather didn’t even give me a chance to speak—he said he’d calculated a good day, and had sneaked out, and had stolen something good to give me!”
The Old Madam’s face was full of astonishment: “You— your great-grandfather, stealing things? Wasn’t he an honest sort?”
What kind of nonsense was this.
But Qiqian’er nodded with certainty: “Yes, ancestor great-grandfather said it just like that. Grandmother, I hadn’t even asked yet, and my great-grandfather pulled out a star from his sleeve…” She gestured with her hands to show something enormous, glowing: “This big, and shining bright—great-grandfather blew a breath on it, and that star went right into my belly…”
The Old Madam’s eyes went so wide her triangular eyes nearly stretched open. She looked Qiqian’er up and down, finally staring fixedly at her belly, and said hesitantly: “That flood-prone breed of the Old Chen family—could it— could it really have become immortal?”
Qiqian’er touched her own belly and said: “How would I know? Isn’t that why I’m asking you? My ancestor great-grandfather said, our family’s been unlucky for too long, and something had to be done about it, so he stole a star from the east or something. Then it seemed like there were pursuers after him or something, and great-grandfather had to run, and before leaving kept saying to me, the sixth of December, the sixth of December! Remember it well, remember it well…”
Then he gave me a push, and I woke up.
Having finished speaking, Qiqian’er watched the now thoroughly dazed Old Madam, waiting for a response—she’d said everything there was to say, now it was up to the Old Madam to figure out the rest…
After a good while longer, a smile finally began to bloom on the Old Madam’s face, slowly, slowly blossoming. Old Madam Chen, overjoyed, pulled Qiqian’er close, holding her head, and with a mouth full of morning breath, planted a smacking kiss right on her.
Having kissed her, the Old Madam jumped up and said with a laugh: “Didn’t I say so? Didn’t I say so? Our Old Chen family’s ancestral grave sits underwater, and I just knew they wouldn’t stay calm about it—look, see, they’re finally worried, finally worried!”
She spun around twice on the floor in her socks, then turned back and stroked Qiqian’er’s face lovingly: “My precious treasure, this is the ancestors showing their power, sending a star lord to our family…”
She couldn’t stop laughing, unable to contain her joy, even clapping her hands.
Qiqian’er, feeling apologetic in her heart, still had to play the part of someone who understood nothing, and asked: “Grandmother, what are you talking about? I don’t understand—what did ancestor great-grandfather mean by that sixth of December thing? I don’t understand what that means either. Isn’t today already the sixth?”
The Old Madam finally stopped her joyful celebrating, and looked at Qiqian’er with some awkwardness, taking a good while before saying: “Qian’er, ah…”
“Hm?”
“Do you, do you listen to your grandmother?”
“Of course I do.”
Hearing Qiqian’er say this, the Old Madam stepped forward, as if carrying the souls of ten thousand generations of the Chen family on her back, took her hand seriously and said: “My treasure, you’ve encountered great fortune here. From now on, you mustn’t mention this outside, or you’ll scare away our family’s good luck. If you trust your grandmother, if you’re filial to her! Right now, go to the small shrine in the back, tidy up our ancestors’ memorial tablets, then have them prepare a set of bedding for you, cough… today… go up the mountain to find that Choutou boy.”