Chang Mianshen had originally wanted his youngest son to marry in the capital, but on the twenty-fifth of the fifth month, a quarrel broke out quietly within the Chang household — father and sons, mother and son, brother and brother — the exact details of which no outsider knew.

Either way, that very night Chang Lianfang went to Quanhou Street and never went back.

By the twenty-sixth of the fifth month, Qinwei Alley was already bustling. The four sisters-in-law of the Chen family, plus, on Lao Dao’s side, Meng Wanquan’s wife, Lu Shi — nine sisters-in-law in all, each showing off her own particular talents — turned the Chessboard Courtyard into a scene of tremendous festive commotion.

Their family’s Chessboard Courtyard couldn’t compare to the Marquis of Yandu’s residence, but as if determined to prove a point, the sworn brothers who shared no blood with him all threw themselves into the effort — and not just by pitching in personally, but by bringing along the full strength of their own households to help.

As the old lady put it: “Xiaohua, you’re the groom. Let them do the running around — you’ve plenty of exhausting days ahead of you. These next few days, just stay on your grandmother’s heated bed and fatten up.”

Chen Dasheng ordered the most magnificent peonies from the Pingshen flower shop, and soon the whole courtyard was packed full of festive blooms.

Yu Qingguan took his guards and scoured the surrounding hundred li, and any chef with the slightest reputation ended up invited to Quanhou Street.

Daniu’s husband Niu Zhu, along with Xie Liuhao, both local men who knew their way around, went to Qiqian’er to draw funds, then scoured all of Qingfeng Manor for chicken, duck, goose, pork, cattle, sheep, and fresh fish, running around gathering vegetables too.

Even the cattle were quietly procured by the two of them through some under-the-table arrangement involving “cattle that died from a fall” — a way of getting around the ban on slaughtering working oxen.

Zhang Wanru went back to her natal family and brought out the great red bridal sedan chair that had been passed down through generations of the Zhang family, then sought out the finest craftsman in Yandu to lacquer it and inlay it with jewels, vowing to make it the most extravagant bridal sedan in all of Qingfeng Manor.

Ding Yuniang, together with Daniu and Erniu, led several households’ worth of needlework women and took charge of every stitch of sewing needed throughout the Chessboard Courtyard. Their own family’s tight-fisted old lady wouldn’t let anyone sit idle — she leaned on her cane and watched over the needlework women, making sure not a single thread or scrap of cloth was wasted.

Pan Baqiao made a trip back to her natal home and brought back twelve accountants to take overall charge of the ledgers.

As for Erdian’s wife, Chai Shi — never mind that she called Lady Marchioness Chai her aunt — in truth her family had long since grown tired of her aunt and uncle, whose way of doing things was, to put it plainly, always half-hearted — and not even a proper dry sort of half-hearted, but the runny, dribbling-two-li kind of half-hearted. Yet now that her own cousin was getting married, she brought out her dowry and gave her cousin a supplement worth over a thousand guan.

As for the four sisters-in-law of the Chen family — not even counting Qiqian’er, who contributed the largest share — the other three were all more than capable in their own right, and each took charge of one temple courtyard.

The three great temples of Quanhou Street — the Dragon King Temple, the Grandmother Temple, and the Three Sages Temple — were all respectable venues with opera stages and open grounds. Since this side couldn’t compete with a marquis’s residence, they simply strung up canopies over the temple courtyards, hung red silk everywhere, and set up banquet tables to receive guests who wouldn’t be entering the main courtyard, as well as space to park the carriages of arriving visitors.

Chen Dazhong, Chen Dayi, and Chen Dayong each took charge of one temple as well, receiving guests on behalf of their sworn younger brother.

Chen Dasheng himself climbed up onto the main hall and hung red silk over the plaque bearing the title of Viscount’s residence, then hopped down, quite pleased with himself, showing off to his brothers: “Look at that — festive or what?”

Yu Qingguan and the others nodded eagerly — festive, so festive! Even when His Majesty’s own sons married, it probably wasn’t much grander than this.

These were men who’d only recently risen up from bound servitude — no one expected refined taste from them. Naturally, the more dazzling and fiery red everything was, the better.

Qiqian’er, ever generous with money, bought dozens of bolts of red gauze and red cloth for her sworn younger brother and had huge red flowers made, all hung along the courtyard walls. She wasn’t much better herself — just look at the clothes she’d prepared for her two sons to serve as the ceremonial “bed-sitting boys” — that brilliant scarlet, so heavily adorned that if you set it before a Buddha statue, it would look like an offering meant to scatter wealth to the poor.

Whether it was tasteful or not hardly mattered — it was a wedding celebration, after all, and a riot of vivid colors piled together made for its own kind of visual delight. In any case, anyone who saw it couldn’t help but grin.

Marquis Chang was furious with his son and declared he wouldn’t give him a single coin toward the wedding. Not that it mattered — never mind the past, never mind the income from the estates and shopfronts held by the wives of the various households; the brothers’ trip to Gongji Tan Wang’s tomb alone had yielded enough that they weren’t lacking for funds to help him out. Down in that burial passage, you could hardly take a step without gold falling off you, or someone else dropping gemstones.

In truth, the Chang family had been genuinely struggling of late. Their third son, always smiling, always yielding — this time he listened to no one. He would not yield, would not give in, no matter how much his father and brothers pleaded with soothing words: Once you’re married, we’ll sort out the details carefully, all right?

But Chang Lianfang said nothing the entire time. The family assumed the matter would blow over as it always had — instead, he simply stood up and walked out. Just before leaving, he turned and said one thing to his father: “From now on, I no longer trust you.”

Marquis Chang stood rooted to the spot until midnight. When his eldest son came to urge him to go rest, he answered with two hard slaps across the face.

At the founding of the Great Liang dynasty, through its two great wars, this small child had been sent as a hostage to grow up at His Majesty’s side. Perhaps at first the family worried over him constantly, but his two older brothers had spent all those years at their parents’ and grandmother’s knees, following their father through campaign after campaign, brushing against death more than once — the bond between father and sons in that case ran deeper than in most families.

Even people well accustomed to facing death eventually come to see through certain things — though that, too, depends on the person.

The Chang family’s household ways truly had their flaws. Their father modeled himself after the ancient lord Mengchang, and the children grew up scrambling for scraps at other people’s tables — their hearts never fully grew up either.

Chang Lianfang was different — he’d grown up at His Majesty’s side, so how could his way of handling things possibly be the same?

That’s exactly how cause and effect comes about.

Though Marquis Chang and his wife later tried very hard to be fair, they’d never actually cultivated minds capable of fairness. They were used to always favoring the eldest and second sons, and once grandchildren came along, that was another layer of attachment pulling their attention further away — an old person’s heart, gradually spreading itself thin.

Whenever they made arrangements, they habitually planned as if the family only had two sons; afterward, they’d realize their mistake and apologize profusely. Chang Lianfang always said it didn’t matter — but he was human too.

After years of longing, he’d finally gotten to stay by his parents’ side. Then came two years of putting down rebellions, and he’d finally managed to bring home a small fortune of his own — and now, on the occasion of his wedding, when he went to his parents to ask for what was owed him, suddenly the accounts couldn’t be sorted out clearly, somehow all tangled up with the household’s general ledger?

What kind of nonsense was that.

Never mind that Chai Shi had occasionally, quietly, sent small things over to Qiqian’er in the past — that hardly counted for anything.

Giving something behind someone’s back? What exactly were you guilty of, to need to hide it? What were you so afraid of?

Before Chang Lianfang ever trusted Qiqian’er, he had first trusted his parents. But when it came down to it, his two sisters-in-law showed up with the account books and told him: as the treasured young master of the marquis’s household, the public accounts were set to give him, for his wedding, twice what his older brothers had received.

And then — nothing. That was the end of it.

When his elder brother married, the wedding hadn’t cost even a thousand guan.

Chang Lianfang went to see his father. His father, naturally, flew into a rage — the two elder brothers got beaten for it, made to kneel before the ancestral tablets — but as for actually divorcing their wives and recovering the money, that was never going to happen.

Guilty conscience? Oh, plenty guilty. But what could be done — nothing could be done.

As far as Chang Lianqi and Chang Lianxu were concerned, no matter how their wives behaved, everything they did was for the sake of their own small households, and toward that, their conscience was clear. Their third brother had His Majesty, had noble friends — what did they have? A foul-mouthed father who’d offended half the court? A mother who’d charge up the stairs with a knife to hack at officials?

Ever since returning to his parents’ side, every time Marquis Chang failed to be fair, he’d sigh at his son: We’ve wronged you, son, but don’t hold it against your brothers… we’re family, after all.

Both palms are flesh, but one holds tight while the other bears the wind and rain — and once this incident happened, whatever respect Chang Lianfang had left for his father collapsed entirely.

Everyone assumed Xiaohua must have plenty put aside, and that squeezing him a little wouldn’t hurt. Who could have guessed — he truly hadn’t kept a single coin for himself.

Though his parents kept reassuring him — Don’t worry, son, we’ll make it up to you eventually. When we’re gone, the largest share is yours — he didn’t care about any of that. All he wanted was fairness, wanted to ask: on what grounds? But his family had decided he had no right to be angry about it in the first place.

We’re family, after all.

In the end, that piece of flesh on the back of the hand — the one left out in the wind and rain — finally took root on Quanhou Street, its blood bound instead to Qinwei Alley.

Deep in the night, Xiaohua led his warhorse, a full set of his own armor strapped to its back, and walked into Chen Dasheng’s courtyard with a broad smile on his face.

Qiqian’er and Chen Dasheng came out to meet him. Seeing him like that, they asked nothing, said nothing, simply brought him inside and fussed over him with warm concern.

He’d barely sat down when his sworn brother Aman personally delivered three thousand guan, packed into six large chests, and not long after, Li Jinggui arrived too.

Only then did Qiqian’er learn what had happened to Chang Lianfang — but as for feeling wronged on Xiaohua’s behalf, that wasn’t really her place. This was a mess created by His Majesty and Marquis Chang, and it was for the two of them to settle privately.

Besides, anyone with experience knew: the wounds that lodged deepest in the heart were always the ones dealt by family — wounds from outsiders were shrugged off long ago. Xiaohua was a grown man; if he chose to dwell on it, that would be his own doing for the rest of his life — spending his days chewing over money matters, spitting it out, picking it back up, chewing it again, over and over until death, with no one ever really right or wrong in the end.

And eventually the whole world forgets, except you — and you keep bringing it up, on and on. Doesn’t that get tiresome even to yourself?

It’s disgusting, really — and it doesn’t disgust anyone else, only yourself.

Even the day you finally get over it, that’s not really healing — it’s just realizing you spent half your life paying for something that was never worth it.

Truly, never worth it.

Quietly, once Chang Lianfang had slipped away from home, that very night the palace sent over twenty thousand guan, specifically naming Qiqian’er to hold it and spend it on Chang Lianfang’s behalf — His Majesty wanted to see his foster son married properly. The man was sharp enough — if Chang Lianfang wouldn’t take money from his own family, well then, His Majesty would simply scoop it up himself.

By now the total sum came to fifty-two thousand guan. The largest portion came from His Majesty; second was Prince She, who gave ten thousand guan. Even the old lady contributed fifty guan and a pair of large gold bracelets.

What did it matter what his own family could or couldn’t provide? They’d manage on their own — everyone in Qinwei Alley knew everyone else’s business by now anyway. Money was the one thing they weren’t short of.

The next day, His Majesty summoned Xiaohua into the palace, and when he came out, ten cartloads of goods came with him. His wedding attire had been made by the palace’s own tailoring workshop, and he carried a box in his arms that no one knew the contents of. The various consorts in the palace had even pooled together a complete set of furnishings for the bridal chamber — long-necked plum vases, carved white porcelain — all given in matching pairs.

This wasn’t simply hanging Marquis Chang out to dry — it was stringing up the entire Chang family from top to bottom.

Stirred up further by outside gossip, both sides grew increasingly furious with each other.

On the twenty-ninth of the fifth month, Guan Si’er brought his father and older brothers over again, and everyone gathered in Chen Dasheng’s back courtyard, setting up tables to write wedding couplets for Chang Lianfang. Quite the impressive gathering it was too — a prince, a great Confucian scholar, and two future great scholars besides.

It was right around this time that Lady Marchioness Chai finally arrived at Qinwei Alley with her two daughters-in-law in tow — though she didn’t go to the Chessboard Courtyard. Since the old lady held the highest seniority, Chai Shi went to see her first.

All along the way, red decorations fluttered and the aroma of stewed meat and fried meatballs from the three great temples drifted through the entire street. It was clearly a scene of the most extreme festive joy — the adults said nothing, too busy to spare the breath.

As the three women — mother-in-law and two daughters-in-law — reached the mouth of the alley, they saw several donkeys coming out of it, two small children perched on one of them.

Several maidservants carried trays of steaming hot meatballs; whenever the young masters and misses of the household came riding by on their donkeys, a servant would pop a meatball straight into each small open mouth. Once fed, whoever was leading the donkey would keep walking them in circles — there was no other option, since once you set these children down, there was no catching them again. A whole crowd of children ran wild everywhere, and with several oil cauldrons bubbling away nearby, it was genuinely dangerous — what if something happened?

So what could be done? Just let the little young masters ride the donkeys in circles. This had already gone on for several days, and thankfully none of them had tired of it yet.

The three Chang women stared, stunned. At first their hearts still churned with resentment, but the further in they walked, the worse Chai Shi felt. Her own son was getting married, and it was as if her presence or absence made not the slightest difference.

Trailing behind her, Bao Shi and Xia Shi kept their heads down, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes. Back home they were both full of righteous arguments, ready to say anything. But out here, where Xiaohua had once had no one to rely on, somehow, on Quanhou Street, they found themselves growing afraid.

These past days they’d been scolded plenty by their own families too, though some elder had also advised them: since things had already gone this far, apologizing was wrong and changing course was also wrong — for the sake of the household’s reputation, they had no choice but to grit their teeth and deny everything. Whoever asked, they were to act aggrieved, full of injustice.

Better to have a blade at the throat than to admit it.

Family disputes like this — not even the county magistrate could untangle them. You say you have proof? Who saw it?

Even if everyone privately knew the truth, Chang Lianfang, a grown man, could hardly go around announcing, My sisters-in-law embezzled my money.

People, once they turn petty over small matters, can turn truly vicious.

But even so, at a time like this, someone had to show up — not coming at all would mean losing every last shred of dignity.

Before Chai Shi even reached the old house, she could already hear a courtyard full of laughter. Once she entered, she saw three low couches set up in the yard, a group of women in their thirties and forties sitting cross-legged on them, threading strings of small coins with red string — preparing coins to be scattered during Xiaohua’s wedding procession.

Madam Wan’s knots were especially fine, and she was holding hers up high to show off — but the moment Chai Shi stepped into the courtyard, everyone recognized her at once, and the whole group fell silent together. A few who’d exchanged words with her before offered somewhat awkward greetings, then quickly made themselves scarce.

Once everyone had dispersed, the old house’s courtyard fell quiet, with only the old lady sitting cross-legged, counting with great seriousness — six coins to a string, six coins to a string…

Chai Shi stood there for a long while before she finally couldn’t bear it anymore and called out, “Old Madam.”

The old lady looked up calmly, studied the woman’s face full of grievance, and after a good long moment broke into a smile. “Oh, my adopted grandson’s mother has come? Have you brought money for my eldest grandson?”

Chai Shi nodded. “Yes.”

The old lady smiled and asked, “How much did you bring?”

She’d always been this blunt, this plain-spoken. In her eyes, losing a piece of flesh was never painful as long as you weren’t losing it for free — and since the bond between Xiaohua and his birth parents was already severed anyway, however much she could squeeze out for Xiaohua now, that was simply what was owed.

What, shouldn’t she ask? It was rightfully theirs to begin with.

She wasn’t the type to wait until tomorrow’s rice pot was empty before bringing it up, too embarrassed to mention it to this side, unable to mention it to His Majesty either, only to turn around and get an earful from her own birth parents later — no, she wasn’t going to give them that comfortable opening.

Not in this lifetime.

Hearing that people had come from the Marquis’s household, Qiqian’er and Chang Lianfang, worried there might be a clash, hurried over — only to walk in just as the old lady was demanding money.

Chang Lianfang tried to go in and say he didn’t want it.

But his sister-in-law caught the back of his neck with an expressionless grip so strong he couldn’t break free.

Qiqian’er said, lowering her voice, “Come with me. Leave this to the old lady.”

Chang Lianfang stumbled along, pleading, “Sister-in-law, why must it be like this? I— I don’t want it.”

Qiqian’er snapped back, “Cut the crap! Tell me, deep down, don’t you feel you deserve better? Keep acting tough and see if it doesn’t choke you to death. Fine — let our old lady work this out properly for you. Don’t tell me that money wasn’t earned with your own blood — it was rightfully yours to begin with! Listen to me: with things having come to this, His Majesty can’t be seen arguing with women over money, and your brothers and your father, heh, the men of the family aren’t going to touch this — so what are you going to do? Listen to your sister-in-law: if the old lady doesn’t let it out for you today, you’ll be miserable for the rest of your life…”

The two of them stumbled their way into Xie Liuhao’s courtyard, and the moment they entered — shh… shh… — who was this now?

Crouched obediently against the wall of the old house were Li Jinggui, Zheng Aman, and Chen Dasheng. Seeing the newcomers, the three first hissed for quiet, then pressed their ears back to the wall to keep listening.

Qiqian’er instantly let go of Chang Lianfang and scurried over in quick little steps to listen at the wall as well. Unable to hear clearly, she smacked her husband, and Chen Dasheng, forced down, crouched low as Qiqian’er stepped right up onto his shoulders.

Ah… now she could see clearly, and hear clearly too.

After listening for a while, Zheng Aman and Li Jinggui finally realized something was off, and together gave Chen Dasheng a thumbs-up. Chen Dasheng, utterly without shame, grinned and kept his ear pressed to the wall.

A donkey’s hooves clattered past the mouth of the alley, and Gennu’er wailed at the top of his lungs, “I want to go to the front, I want to go to the front…” Keep crying and Ugly Sister’s big wedding day, I’m not hitting you! You hit me! — the tearful donkey passed on by, while whole basins of bean curd strips went into the pot with a great sizzling roar as they all came together…

Xie Liuhao’s household had a rare four-season osmanthus tree, and it was just budding — a few impatient blossoms had already pushed out flecks of gold. Chang Lianfang leaned against the osmanthus tree, his face growing more and more relaxed, thinking that even this fifth-month osmanthus smelled especially sweet.

It was only in this moment that he finally understood something — true freedom was never something you gave yourself; it was that particular feeling of stepping out your door and knowing, wherever you went, there was always someone to lean on, someone to catch you — that was what let true, settled freedom take root.

He thought: I am free now. I have people to rely on.

Such lightness. Such joy.

Back in the old house’s courtyard, the old lady had opened with a demand for money.

Chai Shi gasped for breath, mouth open. She’d been a noble lady for many years now, long since forgotten the days of counting every last coin — and now, having it laid out so plainly, she felt embarrassed and ashamed.

Seeing her not answer, the old lady set down the coin string and raised her voice: “The three of you, mother and daughters-in-law both, showing up here like this — mother and ‘sisters-in-law’ both — what, did you come with empty pockets?”

We’re country folk, this is just how we are!

The three women all sucked in a sharp breath. Chai Shi’s spirit practically left her body and circled three times before settling back in — she barely recognized this old lady anymore. She looked again and again, confirmed she hadn’t mistaken the person, then said cautiously, “Old Madam, you have no idea how infuriating your adopted grandson has been to us, we…”

The old lady raised a hand to cut her off. “Hua’er’s mother, I’m not trying to be harsh, but whether your son turns out well or not, that’s for you to sort out at home once all this is done. It’s not like the happy occasion isn’t right in front of us — my whole family, three generations, has been running themselves ragged for you, and you come here to complain about your own son to me? Is that not completely unreasonable? Is that how relatives are supposed to treat each other?”

The old lady, her whole head of silver hair trembling, reached up and patted her own cheeks in mock shame. “Oh my, and here I thought you were from a grand marquis’s household, a proper old Yandu family, and you can’t even spare money to marry off your own son? What, is your son not called ‘Hua’er’ — ‘Blossom’ — for nothing? Was he born with some magical gift for sprouting flowers out of thin air, that he can just set up a stall and collect coins on his own? He’s your son! You bore him! And he’s getting married! Come, come, look at old me — does my face hurt from all this shame? Isn’t this embarrassing?”

The three women sucked in another sharp breath — every argument they’d rehearsed simply couldn’t withstand this kind of assault. Their wild, righteous spirits were ground to dust.

The old lady patted her hands a few more times, then let them fall. “Hua’er’s mother, this old woman is nothing if not reasonable — but people, everyone’s got their front face and their back thoughts, I understand that! But make no mistake about Xiaohua — I know exactly who you all are, understand? Since we’ve become proper relatives, and we got along well enough in the past, today I’m actually doing you a favor, helping you out — you need to understand that.

I’ve done my duty as a relative, so there’s no need to thank me. I’ll just ask you straight: every bit of what’s here, inside and out, is what my grandson and his wife have contributed. Oh my, your family’s adding a new member and it’s somehow reasonable for my family to be the one paying for it? If that’s the case, then whatever children Xiaohua has going forward, they might as well take the surname Chen, no argument — this daughter-in-law, the Chen family will just marry her in ourselves…”

Chai Shi jumped, her face shooting up. “That can’t be! Old Madam, my family will marry the bride in, my family will! No— it can’t be like that!”

The old lady laughed. “So there you go, Hua’er’s mother — I’m asking you. If you’d come with empty pockets I wouldn’t even bother asking. But you’re all properly dressed, so — did you bring money?”

Qiqian’er, watching all this as if drunk on the spectacle, suddenly felt herself slowly sinking — Chen Dasheng had set her down, eyes wide and pleading. Qiqian’er, with no other choice, crouched down again, and Chen Dasheng climbed back up onto her shoulders once more.

That’s how absorbed they’d all become, watching this.

Chang Lianfang’s whole body slid slowly down the osmanthus tree trunk to the ground.

Perched now on Chen Dasheng’s shoulders, Qiqian’er, thoroughly bored, glanced awkwardly around and caught Zheng Aman and Li Jinggui both staring at her while gulping audibly.

Hey now, what was so interesting about her? She wasn’t fried tofu.

She reached into her pipa sleeves, pulled out two handfuls of snacks, and passed them out to “her sons,” blinking pointedly at the two men as if to say — eat, go on, eat, and quit staring at me.

In the courtyard, Chai Shi nodded seriously. “I brought it, I brought it.”

The old lady laughed, slapping her knee. “Ah, there we go! Didn’t I say so? My in-law’s mother comes to visit and nobody’s brought her a seat? Someone, fetch a seat for our esteemed in-law.”

A servant woman brought over a drum stool. Once the old lady saw them seated, she didn’t bother offering tea, and simply continued, “Since you brought money, how much did you bring?”

Chai Shi took a breath, forcing a bitter smile. “Old Madam — ten thousand guan.”

The old lady’s smile vanished instantly. She opened her mouth and said, “Someone — no need for tea. Our in-law’s mother is leaving.”

Having given the order, she wasn’t even angry, simply looked at the stunned Chai Shi and said, “Such a great marquis’s household, and ten thousand guan to marry off a son? That’s outrageous, not nearly enough. Let me tell you — it’s been days now, and my family’s already spent seventy or eighty thousand guan. However good relatives may be, there’s no reason we should be the ones subsidizing you. Go back and get more…”

Before the old lady even finished, Xia Shi, who could no longer hold herself back, raised her face and pleaded, “Old Madam, you’re an outsider, you don’t know how hard things are for our family—”

The old lady shot her a sideways glare and snapped, “And what are you, exactly? Which household did you crawl out of? An elder is speaking and you dare interrupt? I wasn’t talking to you…”

Seeing Bao Shi glaring at her with barely contained fury, the old lady only grew more delighted. “Don’t glare at me, you can’t afford to glare at me. Your family didn’t raise you properly, lacking manners like this — it’s your own ancestors’ faces you’re shaming. I’m showing Hua’er’s mother respect here, not making a fuss with you — don’t think I’m just some overbearing old madam throwing my weight around. Look at me, I’m the most reasonable person there is — go ask around, you won’t find another soul on Quanhou Street as fair-minded as me. Otherwise I’ll just call over my prince son and scare the living daylights out of you.”

Bao Shi flinched, suddenly remembering that this old lady had real backing behind her — she truly wasn’t afraid of the Marquis’s household at all.

Seeing her cowed, the old lady turned her glare on Xia Shi next, and once she’d stared her into silence too, only then did she say, with a cold laugh, “Today I’ll say it plainly — one hundred thousand guan. Not one copper coin less.”

All three women jerked their heads up. Chai Shi gasped in shock: “One hundred thousand guan?!”

The old lady blinked. “What? Your family lives in some grand mansion, one building of yours bigger than our whole alley of houses put together, and you don’t have a hundred thousand guan?”

Chai Shi took a breath and shook her head. She might look formidable, but truthfully her control over household finances wasn’t what it seemed — the family had plenty of possessions, but not much actual cash on hand, not after the estate had already been divided among the brothers. Even scraping together every last resource, there simply wasn’t time to raise that much now.

The old lady looked thoroughly unimpressed, clicking her tongue for a while, then, putting on the air of someone taking a great loss, asked, “Well then, eighty thousand at least, surely? You’re the one marrying in a bride here, not marrying off a daughter, understand?”

Chai Shi said, “Old Madam, it’s not that we don’t have it, it’s… there are some things right now I can’t explain to you…”

“Don’t explain it to me, I don’t want to hear it,” the old lady cut in. “My own family’s got a pile of tangled accounts too, child. I know you’re aggrieved — whose family isn’t? We’re all parents here. Right now you feel the reasoning is on your side, but let me tell you, at thirty you have thirty’s logic, at fifty you have fifty’s logic — truly, live to my age and you’ll still get confused sometimes too. Just muddle through. I understand your difficulty, but aren’t all parents the same?”

Having finally voiced some sympathy for her, Chai Shi’s tears began streaming down.

The old lady kept going: “I know exactly what you’re all thinking. You think — he’s my own flesh and blood, how could I not ache for him? Yes! You ache for him — but your heart’s crooked too…”

Seeing Chai Shi about to explain herself, the old lady wouldn’t allow it, waving a hand. “Don’t interrupt me — this is me talking to you. Tomorrow I’ll be gone, then where will you go to hear this kind of sense? Hua’er’s mother, live a few more years and you’ll gain more wisdom yet. Nobody’s perfect, this is all just plain truth, and this old woman knows full well that living isn’t easy for anyone.

Being a parent is hard — hard because every step feels like it’s tearing at your own heart. When the children were small, you could still keep them in line. Now that they’re grown, we old folks start to feel afraid — watching them surrounded by more and more people, drifting further from us, and you don’t dare discipline them anymore, thinking, well, no matter what’s said, we’re still family, and even if the child feels wronged now, there’ll always be time to make it up later, right?”

Chai Shi choked up, covering her face and nodding vigorously.

The old lady sighed and gave a mocking laugh. “You think it’s that simple, making it up later? What if you suddenly drop dead tomorrow?”

The three Chang women, whose combined age was pushing a hundred years, genuinely had no idea how to answer that.

The old lady sniffed, privately cursing their lack of sense, then explained patiently: “What I mean is — say you die tomorrow. Are you going to pay our Xiaohua back with ghost money?”

That line was too harsh even for Chen Dasheng to bear listening to — he patted his wife’s head to signal her down, and the two of them crouched against the wall, staring blankly up at the sky.

In the courtyard, Chai Shi was thoroughly frightened.

But the old lady wasn’t done, pointing straight at her: “You’re a fool, Hua’er’s mother, plain and simple. Look at the three of you, showing up at my door — coming and going, you’re the one who’s suffered, you’re the one who’s been scolded, and has anyone ever stood up for you, even once? No! The disaster wasn’t even one you caused, and yet you and your husband have made a habit of taking the blame for it — coming here to pick a fight with me like this? Whoever took the little brother-in-law’s money should be the one paying it back. You’ve been protecting them all this while, so don’t they owe you at least a basic bit of gratitude in return?”

Xia Shi and Bao Shi, having lived their whole lives, had never once encountered this kind of blunt country-old-lady logic — the harsh words came pouring out so directly it left both of them rattled to the core.

In the past, they’d always been the ones full of righteous arguments, eyes brimming with wronged tears. Now, watching their mother-in-law reduced to trembling, they realized they’d finally met their match — this was a completely different kind of opponent, and neither of them dared say a single word.

Utterly defeated, Chai Shi swayed unsteadily to her feet.

On the other side of the wall, Chang Lianfang gave a bitter smile. He stood, thinking to go over and say, forget it, I don’t want it, let’s just leave it at this. Even if they’d treated him poorly, it still hurt him to see this.

But the moment he moved, Chen Dasheng grabbed him around the head, Zheng Aman clapped a hand over his mouth, and Li Jinggui wrapped an arm around his waist.

Qiqian’er sprang up and dashed into Xie Liuhao’s house, and before long came back out carrying a gong, then trotted off toward the old house.

Every household kept one of these, in case of thieves, bandits, or fire.

The moment she entered the old house, Qiqian’er called out cheerfully, “Grandma! What did you send someone to fetch a gong for?”

Though in this lifetime she’d never shown her true colors, in her previous life, once the old lady’s fierce temper flared up, she was the type to bang a gong and cry injustice up and down all of Quanhou Street. Qiao Shi was terrified of that particular move — who wouldn’t want to save face?

Truly, two lifetimes of grandmother and granddaughter — Qiqian’er showed up with the gong, and the old lady’s eyes lit up. “Ah, right! Qian’er, go find someone with a loud voice to follow your adoptive mother in a bit, carrying this gong along with her.”

Qiqian’er pretended not to understand, asking curiously, “Following my adoptive mother for what? I’m swamped over on my side, everyone’s after money from me too…”

The old lady shot her a look. “Your adoptive mother’s going home to get money for your Hua’er brother’s wedding — why else?”

Qiqian’er’s face lit up with realization. “Ah, that explains it! I’ve been overwhelmed on my end too, thinking, well, Adoptive Father and Mother will show up eventually — don’t tell me we’re really expected to pay for Marquis Chang’s household to marry off their son? So — how much are we taking?”

The old lady glanced at Chai Shi, deciding not to press her too hard after all. “Your adoptive mother said fifty thousand guan.”

Chai Shi startled, her eyes filling with gratitude.

Qiqian’er clicked her tongue. “Fifty thousand guan? Hmph. However you slice it, everyone’s just taking advantage of how good-natured my adoptive mother is — that money’s got to be coming straight out of my adoptive parents’ retirement savings.”

In the next courtyard, Zheng Aman and Li Jinggui both gave Chen Dasheng simultaneous thumbs-up.

Having said her piece, Qiqian’er tossed the gong aside, walked over, and wedged herself right between Bao Shi and Xia Shi, wrapping an arm around her adoptive mother and wiping her tears. “Grandma, this is Yandu, you can’t carry on like you did back in the countryside — banging gongs and airing grievances up and down the alley the moment things don’t go your way! It’s only a few tens of thousands of guan, no need to squeeze people like this! My adoptive father and mother have always been wholeheartedly devoted to our family — a mere fifty thousand guan? You act like it’s actual money to you — look what you’ve put my poor adoptive mother through.”

Having comforted Chai Shi, she looked up and gave orders: “Someone, hitch up the big cart! Go into Yandu and get the money from my adoptive father. Hah — send a few capable people! Tell whoever you see that the seats of honor in the main hall are all set up, and tomorrow the new bride will need proper tea to serve — tell my adoptive father to bring plenty more, or I won’t let anyone leave… This is for our third brother, mind you — surely that’s worth more than fifty thousand guan? Isn’t it, Mother! Sister-in-law!”

The four gentlemen, thoroughly shell-shocked and drained of spirit, filed out of the alley, and only once they reached the street corner did they dare breathe again. Zheng Aman clapped Chen Dasheng on the back, thoroughly impressed. “Brother, you’re truly my brother — soft words, hard words, one after another, all delivered flawlessly, nothing left to say. Next time I’ll bring my own little terror over here, at least let him soak up some of that tiger energy sharing the old lady’s heated bed.”

Li Jinggui stood with his hands on his hips, looking up at the sky, wanting nothing more than to let out one long howl: “Ah, my ancestors — these people are absolute legends! Truly unmatched…”

Ah, such is the human world — another tray of tofu strips dropped into the pot, and the whole street filled with its fragrance once more.

The first day of the sixth month finally arrived — Chang Lianfang’s wedding day. All his brothers came, and together they rode tall horses out to the relay station to receive the bride, followed by a gong-and-drum procession escorting the fiery red bridal sedan.

Such is the way of the world — however much resentment sat in their hearts, once the money had all been paid out, the two Chang elder brothers stood at the main gate of the Chessboard Courtyard, faces full of smiles.

No one contested it with them.

Such is the way of the world — a new family member joining the fold is a joyous thing, isn’t it, after all.