Guan Si’er and Hu Yougui had fled in the middle of the night. No matter how that matter was handled, neither of them would look good over it—but those two were, after all, young ladies. Yuwen Xiaoqiao was shameless and used to it, and Hu Yougui had grown accustomed to it too.
But as for the other girl, it was already known her fate would not be good. Watching someone else fall into misfortune was not the conduct of a gentleman to begin with; to add insult to injury and make things worse for her was simply inhuman.
Why not avoid the matter? Why rage at the Gong family for having no proper conduct, rage that the young girl dared to have designs on his own person… cough, what was that about?
Coincidentally, once he’d finished up his temporary duties, Guan Si’er moved back to the Imperial Guard Lane. Through four consecutive rest days he hadn’t gone back to visit the Gong mansion. In truth he’d never had much affection for that household to begin with, and with relatives constantly coming and going over there, he found himself even less willing to return.
When Lady Li couldn’t wait any longer for her son to come back, she brought her two daughters-in-law and hurried over. They had stayed here before too, so once they arrived they settled in simply, and Lady Li took her eldest daughter-in-law, Lady Ren, over to Qiqian’er’s side.
She was actually rather poor with words. Once there, she stared at the two children for a good while before finally saying, with a face full of worry, “Ah, sister-in-law, I don’t know when our third son will ever settle down and have children of his own—someone who’d dote on him.”
Qiqian’er smiled to comfort her. “It’s just a matter of time. Good things come to those who wait. Give Sansu a little more time and he’ll come around. There’s no need to rush these next few days.”
Lady Li smiled bitterly. “That’s easy to say, but as a parent, seeing your child unsettled, you can’t help but worry. As for what’s going on in our family, sister-in-law—has our third son told you and yours everything already?”
Qiqian’er blinked in mild surprise and shook her head. “What matter? Our Choutou and the others never discuss such things at home. I only assumed he’d grown tired of living in Yanjing and wanted to come home. Is there something more behind it?”
Lady Li’s face showed shame, but in Third Son’s eyes, the Chen family was closer to him than her, so she couldn’t very well hide it, and ended up telling the whole story in one breath.
When she finished, tears rolling down, she said, “Sister-in-law, that girl was sent back to her family home the very next day. I won’t hide it from you—at my age, this was the first time I’ve ever seen a girl so brazenly bold. It’s true, my side of the family does have a lot of relatives, and a lot of trouble along with them. Yan’er hasn’t gone home lately either, and I just feel… but is he… is he sick of us?”
Lady Li was holding herself back—even as she spoke her shoulders trembled. She reached for her teacup and her hand was shaking too.
Seeing her like this, Qiqian’er hurried over, took her hand, and comforted her. “Here I thought it was something serious. Auntie, please don’t overthink it. He’s seen plenty of things like this—he won’t take it to heart. My youngest brother-in-law has a heart big enough to hold ten acres of mountain land. You’re worrying too much.”
Lady Li wiped away her tears and looked at Qiqian’er, her eyes full of disbelief.
Qiqian’er tilted her chin at Siyue, and Siyue quietly led the maidservants out.
Once there was no one else around, Qiqian’er said, “What kind of scheme was that from your family’s girl—it’s really nothing at all! Auntie, don’t forget, your son now serves before the throne. There are only so many men in that huge palace, and there are women who, rather than wasting their youth there with no way to rise up, will naturally think of some scheme. His brothers run into this sort of thing all the time—who knows how many schemes they’ve already seen. That climbing-the-wall business from your family’s girl is nothing much at all, and that’s just in the outer palace.”
“Really? Truly not angry?” Lady Li dabbed her eyes dry with her handkerchief, grabbed Qiqian’er’s hand, and pressed further. “My household is always in chaos, and this time it dragged him into it too. I thought he didn’t want to go back anymore.”
Qiqian’er shook her head. “Don’t think such wild thoughts. Sooner or later he’ll go back. He’s just sulking for a few days—whose child doesn’t do that? That girl did what she did, and she’s a young lady from a proper branch of the family at that. Xiao Qi could neither save her nor punish her, so staying away was the right thing to do. And as you said yourself, your side is chaotic, while those brothers of his love quiet the most. Not to mention anyone else—my own husband, when he comes home, always likes to sit alone. If he doesn’t make a sound, we don’t even notice he’s there. They grew up together, so their temperaments are all much the same.”
Lady Li felt even more heartsick. “He never tells me these things either. And I don’t dare ask.”
After all, there had never been much closeness between them from the start—it would likely take much more time to slowly mend the hole in someone’s heart.
Qiqian’er said nothing more, but instead turned the conversation to the sorts of things Chen Dasheng and the others often ran into.
Lao Dao and the others were young and promising, deeply favored by the emperor, protected by She Qingling, and in control of such a large government office—how could there not be people scheming to curry favor with them?
There were countless tricks, countless schemes—it was just that they never spoke of it.
Otherwise, how would that conversation even go at home? “Today a colleague offered me a concubine, and I righteously declined”? Such words would win a wife’s favor not one bit—it would only make her uneasy and restless, unable to think of anything else all day.
But even though Chen Dasheng never mentioned it, how could Qiqian’er not know? In this world, wherever there were beggars, there were Qiqian’er’s eyes and ears. She knew, but she never brought it up—she just felt secretly pleased and was doubly good to Chen Dasheng in return.
Every one of them kept himself remarkably clean and proper—cough, mainly because they were stingy! With money in hand, they’d rather buy real meat to eat than waste money on flowers that wilted overnight.
Having found comfort with Qiqian’er, Lady Li thought for a long while before saying, a little embarrassed, “Child, our Yan’er is young, and he’s suffered a great deal already. Selfishly speaking—even if he doesn’t come home, I… I hope you all will favor him a little extra.”
It was the most selfish thing she’d said in her whole life, but for her son’s sake, she said it anyway.
Qiqian’er nodded. “Of course. He’s the baby of the family—not just us sisters-in-law, but his older brothers too. Whenever something good comes along, they always make sure he gets it first! You don’t know this, but not long ago His Majesty got a fine horse, and seeing how well they’d handled their duties, he rewarded them with a black-and-white piebald—worth over ten thousand strings of cash, brought all the way from a foreign land. When it set out there were over a hundred of them, dying off one by one along the road, and by the time they reached Yanjing there were only a dozen or so left. Even our own Prince’s estate doesn’t have one! When that horse was led back, needless to say, if there was only one of something, it went to Xiao Qi.”
Guan Si’er’s life wasn’t hard, which was exactly why Lady Li felt so troubled. Not to mention anything else—her family did have money, but as for Guan Si’er, if he wanted a house, his sister-in-law had long since arranged one for him; if he wanted money, it was all provided. Nothing like his two older brothers, who still lived at home with their whole families in tow, reaching out for their monthly allowance to this day.
In the past when he went home, everything he wore, everything he used—things money couldn’t even buy—if you asked him about it, it was either something Consort Xiao in the palace had given him, or something from the Sixth Prince, or something the sisters-in-law at Imperial Guard Lane had arranged for him. Every other sentence was “my brother said this” or “that brother said that”—clearly a child who’d been thoroughly spoiled by his family.
The Gong household truly did want to treat this child well, but whatever they thought to give him, he already had everything he needed—which made it all the more difficult.
His father wanted to personally re-teach him his studies, but he said he was already studying in the Imperial Study alongside Sixth Prince. Asking around later, it turned out to be true—whatever the imperial princes studied, he studied too. Sometimes when the Emperor reviewed the princes’ essays, he’d glance over his writing as well, and would even punish him with extra calligraphy practice.
What was there to be done? How could they possibly warm up to him?
Lady Li wanted to sit her son down and have a heart-to-heart, but whenever mother and son sat together, they simply had nothing to say to each other. What she knew well, he didn’t know at all; what he knew, she could never know in this lifetime.
Choked up with all this, as parents, the most they could manage each time he left was a pitiful, “Son, take good care of yourself.”
He would answer her too, but from the look of it, it clearly wouldn’t stay in his heart.
Thinking of all this hardship in her heart, Lady Li’s tears began falling in a rush. Seeing she seemed heartbroken, Qiqian’er took her hand and helped calm her breathing.
After a good while, Lady Li finally composed herself, then said through gritted teeth, “I only hate that I’m such a fool! How could I have let him go?”
She began crying again after saying this.
Lady Ren, who had been with her mother-in-law the longest, came over to embrace her in comfort seeing her so upset. After quite a while, she too looked rather sorrowful and said to Qiqian’er, “You wouldn’t know this, but when I first married in, I actually went back to my parents’ home to complain about how chaotic the rules were here, with one relative after another coming through every single day. Yet my parents-in-law were never angry about it—no matter who came, they always received them fully and generously, terrified of falling short in even the smallest way.”
Lady Li had never heard her daughter-in-law complain about such things before, and looked at Lady Ren in astonishment. Lady Ren, unbothered, smiled and continued, “Afterward, when I grumbled too much about it, my own father scolded me for it. My father said, all you people do all day is fuss over surface-level grievances, without ever stopping to consider why the Gong family never holds grudges against relatives…”
Lady Ren looked a bit awkwardly at her mother-in-law, saw that she too was full of curiosity, and gritted her teeth before telling Qiqian’er, “Actually, there’s a reason behind it. After I was scolded and went back, I asked around among the elderly servants in the household, and that’s how I learned that our Sixth House branch has always had very few descendants, and has always relied on the clan’s care.
After our late ancestor passed away, no one in the clan tried to lay claim to that vast family fortune. Not to mention anything else—just take my father-in-law. He was a late-born son, with no brothers to support him, so the clan wouldn’t allow him to leave home to do business, afraid of severing the Sixth House’s line, and sent him off early to study…”
Qiqian’er had the two troubled women-in-law sit on the heated platform, poured them tea, and put her own son into Lady Li’s arms to distract her.
Only then did Lady Li set her distress aside, and touching An’er’s big round forehead, she laughed softly and said, “Here I thought you two didn’t know about any of this.”
Lady Ren smiled. “We know, Mother. It was Old Steward who used to go on about it to us. He said that back then our family was a merchant household, and people with real learning mostly looked down on us. In that whole great prefectural city, not a single household would take in Father-in-law as a student. So that the old man could have books to read, several of the clan elders sent money, silver and gold, and even… beautiful concubines as gifts to people.”
Qiqian’er was startled. “But—wouldn’t that risk landing him with a teacher of poor character, who’d corrupt him instead?”
Lady Li sighed. “Which is exactly why we should be grateful to the Zhao Changxi family. Even though our old master was the son of a merchant, they saw that his character and talent were good, and took him on as a student. The tutor he’d curried favor with as a small child wasn’t good enough, though, and the family, afraid it would spoil his nature, made sure someone accompanied him without fail every single day. In the depths of winter, his eldest uncle would carry him early each morning to send him to the teacher’s home, and once there, no one dared to leave—they’d just crouch beneath the teacher’s window and wait…
We were merchants, so we didn’t dare set foot on their grounds. So all year round, in every season, they’d crouch there watching, terrified someone would bully this lonely, defenseless child… Only once class let out would the eldest uncle dare go check on his own shop’s business, and then it would be time for an uncle to carry him home on his back instead. Their old home was down at the foot of a slope—when our old master was young and went to his lessons, he never once had to walk the slope himself; his seventh uncle would meet him at the bottom, his second uncle would wait at the top… Back then, what did our Sixth House have to offer people in return? Just that little bit of land and shopfront? Who would want that? The reason they cared for him was simply because he shared the Gong surname—because he was a child of the family.”
At this point, Lady Li said earnestly to Qiqian’er, “Our family has no proper rules, I know, but where in this world is there such a thing as a perfect family? Wouldn’t you say so, child?”
Qiqian’er found herself deeply impressed by the Gong family. Though they were merely a merchant household, they truly knew how to treat people—there was real warmth and humanity in them.
Thinking of this, Qiqian’er’s mind went to that man named Ping Shen as well—another fine one, whether in how he conducted himself or how he handled affairs, always thorough and proper, far more attentive to propriety than most.
In the end, it was the previous dynasty’s excessive harshness toward merchant families that had, if anything, driven these merchant households to unite all the more closely, and to hold themselves to ever higher standards of conduct.
Besides, if the Gong family’s relatives were willing to come, and the Gong elder was willing to bend the rules to receive them properly, what business was it of anyone else’s? Whose household didn’t have its own soft spots and shortcomings somewhere.
With this in mind, Qiqian’er said, “You’re quite right. Relatives like that—even if they came rolling around in my own household, I’d let them be.”
Lady Li seemed to recall something and laughed. “But all this, I’ve never dared tell Yan’er. No, it’s not that I don’t dare—there’s simply never been the chance…”
She set An’er down, took Qiqian’er’s hand again, and said helplessly, “Good child, you have no idea. Every time he comes home I’m afraid I won’t take good enough care of him, and thinking so hard not to make mistakes, I just keep making them anyway—I can never get the balance right. Take this last time, for example. My son so rarely gets to come home and stay a few days, and at dinner—well, I wasn’t used to having him around yet, so… so there was one chicken with two drumsticks, and the neck was left for his father to gnaw on.
I—I suppose it’s just habit. Right in front of our third son, I handed a drumstick to each of his older brothers—the neck meat is the best part, you know—and I didn’t even give any to my own son, I gave it to his father instead… But, but my third son didn’t say a word about it, and those foolish brothers of his didn’t even notice. It was only that night, lying awake, that I suddenly realized what I’d done wrong—” She began crying again.
Qiqian’er, thinking it over, felt exhausted on behalf of this whole family of women—though really, no one was to blame. It was just that madwoman who’d caused all this.
She was about to comfort her when, from the courtyard outside, Guan Si’er’s muffled voice suddenly came, “Mother, if you keep thinking about it this much, I wouldn’t even have noticed it myself if you hadn’t brought it up!”
Lady Li stopped crying instantly and stared out toward the door, swallowing hard.
Inside the room it went quiet. An’er pulled off his own smelly little sock, rubbed it first against his own chubby little face, then solemnly handed it to Lady Li.
Lady Li, caught up in her own awkwardness, didn’t even notice.
So the little one repeated the whole performance again, this time adding sound effects, holding up the little sock and going, “Waah~ waah~ waaah…”
Qiqian’er burst out laughing on the spot.
Guan Si’er came into the room, looking at his visibly awkward mother and sister-in-law, and said, “Don’t overthink it and there won’t be so much to think about. I’ve always been the wild, free type—I’ll, I’ll just head back in a few days.”
Saying this, he looked a bit embarrassed, then came to help Lady Li up, his tone carrying a childish petulance he could hardly hide. “Ah, Mother! Talking about all this here—let’s go back to our own courtyard!”
He rarely acted like this—almost never, in fact.
Seeing her precious son so flustered, Lady Li felt herself melt completely, and let herself be led away by her son without anyone else noticing.
An’er watched those heartless backs retreat, finally set down his little sock, and let out a deep, thoughtful sigh.
These days, this was his favorite game—there was nothing he didn’t pick up on.
Once mother and sons had gone, Qiqian’er finally looked out through the window.
Tsk—not a single one missing. Even Meng Wanquan, missing one arm, stood in the courtyard with a head full of foul-smelling sweat.
She had no idea when all these people had shown up, or exactly how much they’d overheard.
But judging by their expressions, they were clearly quite envious of that mother and son.
This kind of affection—most of them had never had it.
Worried these fellows might start feeling sorry for themselves, Qiqian’er scolded them through the window, “What were you all off doing? Coming back from your rest day and still can’t settle down—every one of you covered in stinking sweat, standing around here like fence posts?”
Chen Dasheng scratched his face and called back cheerfully toward the room, “We went up the mountain to tear down some thatched huts.”
“What’d you tear those down for?”
“Well, a few days ago Quanzi Ge spotted signs of wild wolves and got worried, so he went up the mountain to take a look around. Turned out, in some of those abandoned thatched huts, someone had been burning firewood inside to keep warm.”
Ah, that certainly wasn’t good.
Without lowering her head, Qiqian’er kept pulling socks onto her son’s feet as she said, “That’s no good at all. Adults can handle themselves, but I worry about children who don’t know any better. We live right at the foot of this mountain—if a fire ever caught, that would be a real disaster.”
Chen Dasheng nodded. “Exactly what I said. Especially with this place so close to the hunting grounds—if someone were hiding out in those huts, that area wouldn’t be safe either. So today I took them up to tear down a few of the huts, and tomorrow I’ll discuss it with the Qingfeng Estate—going forward, people shouldn’t be allowed to wander up that back mountain so freely anymore.”
Such dependable men. Qiqian’er felt her heart warm, leaning against the window to call out, “Then hurry up and get to the bathhouse—have them draw water for you gentlemen of merit to wash up. I’ll have them warm up some good wine for you, and have a lamb led over to reward you all. Go on, go on!”
The men all broke into boyish, foolish grins.
They really were a group of simple men with few demands—hearing there’d be food and drink, they happily went off.
Only Hu Yougui, walking at the very back, wore a somewhat complicated expression.
He washed up with the others, changed clothes, combed his hair, but after only a few bites of food, he suddenly stood and made his apologies to his brothers, “You all go on and eat. I’ll head back to stay at the office tonight.”
Tong Jintai, being simple-minded, was about to open his mouth to ask, but Chen Dasheng, without even looking up, stuffed a piece of meat straight into his mouth.
Chen Dasheng said with a smile, “Go on then. You just bathed, so mind you don’t catch a chill—take the carriage back. And wear that bearskin cloak your sister-in-law just made for you, wrap up good and warm.”
Hu Yougui’s face broke into a smile, and he nodded. “Right, got it, brother. I’ll be off then.”
“Go on.”
Once he’d left, the others exchanged smiles and went back to eating and drinking as usual.
Now they all had family to care about them—all except him. Well, not exactly none—it was that the people who should have wanted him simply didn’t.
Swallowing the meat in his mouth, Chen Dasheng asked Yu Qingguan across from him, “You’ve met that younger brother of his, haven’t you?”
Yu Qingguan nodded. “That kid’s actually not bad. Said he wouldn’t bother him, and he doesn’t—every time, he just stands quietly at the edge of the street watching his brother from a distance. He swore some fierce oath never to approach, so he doesn’t. Thought he was hiding it well, but come on, what do you think we do for a living!”
Cui Erdian raised his cup and took a drink. “Every family’s got its own impossible tangle… Heaven’s arranged it that way.” He pointed at Chen Dasheng. “Your fourth uncle, my brother-in-law…” then pointed at Yu Qingguan, “his old grandmother.”
Yu Qingguan flew into a rage and threw a punch. Cui Erdian dodged, tilting his neck aside, and in the process snatched a piece of meat Yu Qingguan had been fishing out to save for Er Niu. “See? Same story all around. You think you’re not in the wrong, but you’re eating the flesh of your own brothers—even if your brothers don’t mind, outsiders looking in will see nothing but flaws, and use it to pick at us.
I’ve grown a bit these past few years, learned to read people better. When it comes to something like what happened with Xiao Qi, you’ve got to think it through carefully, front to back. Why would a perfectly proper household suddenly turn improper? There’s got to be a reason behind it. Since he himself doesn’t mind, we shouldn’t go rushing in to defend the youngest on his behalf—does the youngest even want defending?”
Ma Ergu picked a few good pieces of meat out of the pot and put them in Hu Yougui’s bowl, saying with a smile, “What nonsense! Did anyone say anything when Xiao Qi came back? It’s just a few women gossiping about why he hasn’t gone back to the Gong family, assuming he must have been wronged somehow—I don’t think it’s anything at all. Never mind him—speaking of Old Five, I don’t think his little brother did anything wrong either. A pretty decent kid, if you ask me. Who hasn’t been foolish once in their life? He was barely more than a child back then—are we really going to beat him to death over it just to feel satisfied? His mother only has two children of her own flesh and blood—why not cut him some slack? If it were our Yangdan still alive, even if he got into trouble every single day, I—I’d still be happy to clean up after him!”
Chen Dasheng glared at him. “Don’t compare that little brother to Yangdan. Eat your food.”
Having said this, he lowered his head and drank his soup, then wiped his mouth and said, “Last time—that kid was hiding behind the stone lion watching his brother. It had just snowed, and I saw he was wearing a padded jacket.”
“Damn it!” came a mutter from Meng Wanquan, head still down. “No wonder my wife keeps grumbling that she’d rather have a beggar for a mother than an official for a father. See, she was right.”
Before the snow, the cold always bit hardest, and a few gusts of chill wind swept through Yanjing, driving all the idle folk indoors.
At the Imperial Academy, several students changed into their everyday fur robes and headed out arm in arm, walking toward the school gate. There, they saw Hu Youlu crouched over a small charcoal stove, boiling water to cook porridge.
Studying was, after all, a hard road, and the Imperial Academy had no shortage of students from poor families, so a sight like this was nothing unusual.
The one leading the group called out casually with a smile, “Brother Hu, it’s so cold out—if it snows heavily tomorrow we might not even be able to leave. Why not come eat something hot with us?”
These sorts were the kind naturally inclined to snobbery. Hu Youlu might have been poor and shabby, but he was also one of the best-looking students at the Imperial Academy—which earned him a measure of unearned grace that heaven itself seemed to have granted him.
Had it been some plain-looking fellow crouched there cooking porridge in poverty, no one would have bothered to even glance his way.
Hu Youlu stood, smiling good-naturedly as he declined. “Oh no, I couldn’t afford to go wherever you gentlemen are headed. Mine’s almost ready here anyway.”
The group, having made their gesture, went on their way, leaving Hu Youlu crouched alone on the ground, staring blankly at the little stove burning its cheap charcoal.
Another gust of cold wind blew past, and Hu Youlu pulled his padded jacket tighter, regretting a little that he’d pawned his wool coat.
As he was enduring the cold, he heard someone at the door, about to head out, suddenly shout to him urgently, “Brother Hu! Brother Hu… outside, hurry, someone’s looking for you outside!”
Hu Youlu, a handful of broken rice grains in his hand, stood up smiling. “Who’s looking for me? Brother Chen, you must have the wrong person.”
But the man shook his head firmly. “Can’t be wrong. He said he’s your brother.”
Thinking of that person’s radiant, finely dressed appearance, the classmate said in astonishment, “That man wouldn’t happen to be some distant cousin of yours, would he? I have to say, he looks remarkably like you…”
The handful of broken rice slipped from his fingers, and Hu Youlu’s eyes instantly reddened. He ran a few steps, then remembered his own sworn oath and didn’t dare go any further, hesitating there, staring blankly at the door. In the end, he sank down, curling up on the ground, muttering to himself, “I can’t go… I swore an oath…”
A pair of embroidered boots slowly walked up in front of Hu Youlu. Hu Youlu heard, from above his head, that voice he’d dreamed of a thousand times, saying disdainfully, “Always talking nonsense like this, even as a kid! Whatever you do, you always love swearing oaths and cursing yourself