Seeing her senior martial sister’s face flush with fury as she turned to storm out, Master Cheng hurriedly grabbed her sleeve, calling out in a low voice: “Senior Sister! Su Baili! Where are you going?”
Su Baili turned her head back, her eyes blazing: “Cheng Wanning, since when do you get to control me? I’m going to find that vicious little seed and feed her a bottle of Yuanlai Powder, so she can spend the rest of her life blissful as an immortal! Wouldn’t that be lovely?”
Master Cheng was thoroughly distressed—he couldn’t hold onto Su Baili’s sleeve. But these years in the military camp hadn’t been wasted on him; he threw caution to the wind and wrapped both arms around Su Baili’s waist.
He was nothing more than a pitiful little attending physician, disliked and considered troublesome by Baishi Mountain, driven out of the sect because his looks caused problems. He was no match for this she-devil who specialized in dealing with him—one wrong word from him and she’d go feed someone Yuanlai Powder.
That Yuanlai Powder was truly vicious. Unlike other poisons meant to injure or kill, it had been devised by Su Baili purely to torment people. Whoever was poisoned would feel as if their whole body had fallen into boundless clouds, with nothing to support them, able only to lie collapsed on a bed, dizzy without end. Enduring it for a day or two was one thing, but lying in bed long-term, dizzy every single day without mercy, with a constant sinking sensation that never actually landed anywhere—one could only imagine how unbearable that would be.
Full of anger, Su Baili was held fast by Master Cheng, her whole body going rigid as a stick.
Seeing she wasn’t struggling, Master Cheng fumbled her into a chair and patiently pleaded: “Senior Sister, this isn’t the Six Steeds Horse Ranch where famous horses beyond the border are kept, nor is it the old days when you could cause trouble as you pleased while others feared our sect’s authority too much to speak up. Don’t forget—Baishi Mountain is gone now!”
Master Cheng had always assumed he’d eventually return to the sect. Who could have imagined the sect would simply dissolve like that?
It hurt so much that he began to cry.
Su Baili turned her head blankly, and seeing her junior martial brother crying, reached out to wipe his tears. As she wiped, and wiped, she quietly peeled off Master Cheng’s fake beard and hid it in her sleeve.
Then, carefully applying a layer of medicine to her own hands under the pretense of wiping her tears, Su Baili grew more and more satisfied as the medicine wiped away his disguise, revealing the beautiful face of Cheng Wanning, the soul-stealing physician who had long vanished from the martial world.
What a beautiful face it was—brows so elegant, eyes so bright, a nose so straight, lips so vivid. Leaning down to smell him, even his junior brother’s words seemed to carry fragrance… well, of course, her junior brother worked with fragrant medicines, how could he not smell sweet.
Master Cheng remained none the wiser, still performing his act.
“Senior Sister, I beg you, can we live properly together? Can you promise me you won’t go out and dose people with drugs recklessly?”
Su Baili, practically drooling, nodded like she was pounding garlic: “I promise, I promise! Junior brother, whatever you say~ I’ll agree to it all…”
If you said pluck the stars, senior sister would go pluck the stars; if you said climb a tree, senior sister would glue monkey fur on herself; if you said live in a pigsty, senior sister would cook you piping hot pig slop every day…
Master Cheng didn’t believe a word of it, but he had learned his lesson and no longer dared to resist stubbornly like he had in his youth. This time he planned to use a sympathy strategy to move her. With his mind made up, the outwardly stiff and dignified Master Cheng buried his head in Su Baili’s embrace and wept pitifully: “Senior Sister, you can’t go back to the Six Steeds Horse Ranch. I’m useless, just a small physician. I can’t give you a good life, and I can’t let you live as freely as before…”
Su Baili, thoroughly enchanted by his beauty, felt her heart nearly break with pity: “No, no! Junior brother~ Don’t cry, I don’t mind, truly I don’t mind. So what if it’s not a good life—if you can’t give it to me, then I’ll give it to you!”
“Senior Sister, ooh… I’m a man, I need a salary to support a family too…”
Su Baili had never once seen her junior brother look so pitifully on the verge of tears—in that instant her very soul seemed to explode. Her whole mind filled with a single sound: baa baa baa baa baa baa baa baa… her junior brother, wrapped in a white sheepskin, rolled about on the meadow of her soul…
Slowly exhaling, Master Cheng sniffled and raised his head: “Senior Sister, that woman was just a black-hearted matron of some back household. She was wicked! But her daughter is only two years old. Without that woman, do you think the old lady or that little wife there will care for her? Or help raise the child? The child is innocent. If more things like this happen, think about it—you and I are going to be living at this estate. Can you really manage all these petty squabbles?”
Let them all go die! All of them, die!! If they don’t die, poison them all to death!!
Su Baili obediently shook her head. Satisfied, Master Cheng nodded: “You’ve noticed too, haven’t you, that girl…”
Su Baili nodded. So what if she’d unblocked all her meridians? There were plenty of remarkable people in this world, she couldn’t be bothered with all of it. All she wanted was… hmm, to herd sheep! Holding a little whip, herding sheep, and then… baa baa baa baa baa… how wonderful.
That her once unreachable junior brother now had plans to settle down and live with her made Su Baili so delighted she nearly fainted from joy…
And so, the expression on her face gradually, gradually began to show itself, as she slowly, slowly backed the pitiful Master Cheng into a corner of the carriage shed…
Only then did Master Cheng realize something was very wrong. He pushed Su Baili away and growled in a low, irritated voice: “Su Baili!!”
“Don’t be mad, junior brother, senior sister will glue monkey fur on for you…”
“…Su, Su… Su Bai… eek…”
A group of old soldiers who had been delivering firewood to the old lady’s house with Meng Wanquan were carrying a vat of black sauce back to camp. As they reached the camp entrance, they saw Master Cheng’s family carriage driver, along with a little maid, crouched pitifully at the camp gate, staring off into the distance.
Puzzled, Meng Wanquan asked the girl: “Where’s your master?”
The little maid helplessly turned to look off into the distance… and far away, a blue mule cart was racing along as if about to take flight. Meng Wanquan caught a blurry glimpse of the cart’s rear.
After a moment’s thought, Meng Wanquan burst out laughing. Rubbing the back of his head with one hand, he sighed: “Heh! In such a hurry! An old married couple, tsk! In-laws, oh my, truly enviable!”
The old soldiers immediately understood, and together they burst into roaring laughter.
Under the yellowed withered vines of the small courtyard, crickets sang their tune… On the old stove of the worn kitchen in the east side room, an iron pot had been set up again. Qiqian’er crouched beneath the stove, feeding firewood into the fire with both hands, while in the great iron pot once used to boil brine for salt, an old lady was now stewing.
Within a few hundred li around Yandu, the folk customs among the common people were quite interesting. For instance, families with solid means would have a kitchen built to hold a large stove.
Such kitchens, throughout the year, were used to cook meals for ten or even dozens of people during spring plowing, autumn harvest, and the busy New Year season with the large iron pot. During slower times, everyone would use the room to heat water for bathing in the big pot.
That much was already good—by the standards near the imperial capital, a respectable person shouldn’t need incense to mask body odor, nor should their hair be greasy.
But someone like Chen Wu Shi, a commoner through and through, had never once bathed since the day she was born. By the time the water was nearly the right temperature and ready to use, the old lady grew bashful at first, absolutely refusing to get in. Qiqian’er coaxed her with several words, and finally, growing impatient, said: those three new layers of clothing on the outside, and the new bedding too—were you just going to enjoy them as they were?
For the poor, wearing new clothes was an enormously important thing. Thinking of the pile of new clothes her granddaughter-in-law had laid out for her, the old lady gritted her teeth and, following her granddaughter-in-law’s instructions, finally got into the pot.
In that instant, she felt she had no regrets left in life.
The moment her old body was fully embraced by the comfortable hot water, Chen Wu Shi felt as if she had ascended to heaven. Feeling a bit dizzy, she let out a few moans, then quickly caught herself, her old face flushing red with embarrassment.
Hearing her granddaughter-in-law’s soft laugh behind her, she reached down to touch the concave wooden board specially placed beneath her for bathing, and teased herself: “You little wretch, watch the fire carefully—don’t go and cook me through.”
Qiqian’er reached out to test the water temperature, then leaned over to pull two dry logs from the stove pit and toss them beside the small stove to heat a second pot of water.
She laughed and joked back: “That would work out nicely—then we’d have meat to eat.”
Inch by inch, the grime peeled away from the old lady’s skin, and her old heart traveled from embarrassed shame all the way to shameless comfort.
Forget it, if there were good days to be had, she’d enjoy them—why be picky? Someone like her, having days like this—even if she died tomorrow, she’d die satisfied.
Feeling her back being gently cared for, layer by layer, with a dry cloth, the old lady laughed even as she cried.
She looked at the wall in front of her, at a recessed spot where a long-dry oil lamp had been refilled with oil, the bright flame dancing, glowing red, gleaming—how lovely it looked.
Behind her, her granddaughter-in-law said: “Nai, lie back. I’ll wash your hair, then put some hair oil on and comb it out for you, so nothing filthy bites you, and you’ll sleep soundly from now on.”
The old lady spoke with stubborn pride: “You don’t need to fuss over me, I’ve always slept just fine!”
Somehow, Qiqian’er found herself laughing behind the old lady. She thought back to before, when the old lady’s greatest way of tormenting her had been waking her up in the middle of the night to empty her chamber pot.
To torture her further, the old lady used to force herself to drink half a pot of water before bed just for that purpose.
In the past, she’d never wanted to think fondly of the old lady, but now, looking back, it seemed rather amusing—that half pot of water in her stomach probably hadn’t felt too comfortable either…
“What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing… lie back, yes, rest on this wooden board, yes…”
“No laughing! Hold your breath!”
“If I hold my breath, won’t I suffocate?”
“You’re a little demon, you won’t suffocate that easily!”
“Hmm, maybe that’s true.”
“That’s what I keep saying… little demon!”
Smelling the fragrant scent of the hair oil, Chen Wu Shi felt utterly at ease, every part of her cared for. Lying back with nothing to do, she suddenly thought of her grandson.
“Qiqian’er.”
“Hmm?”
“Why haven’t you ever asked what kind of man your husband is? Aren’t you… aren’t you afraid he might turn out like Meng Wanquan?”
“…I’m not afraid.”
“Liar!”
“Hmm~ a lie, but I’m already here—Nai, could you bear to let me leave?”
“Absolutely not! Even if everyone else left, you can’t leave! You promised to care for me in my old age. Qian’er, let me tell you—of the three grandsons I have left, if we’re talking brains, Choutou would rank last for sure. If we’re talking looks, he’s passable enough. He’s not the type who can give you a life of wealth and comfort… but that child, he’s steady and honest…”
The old lady seemed to remember something, fell silent for a moment, then suddenly wanted to sit up.
Qiqian’er held her down: “Don’t move around.”
In the old lady’s heart, her granddaughter-in-law now ranked above everyone else. So she thought—if Qiqian’er wasn’t satisfied with Choutou tomorrow, there was still Chouwa and Choudan waiting in line.
Never mind, she wouldn’t say more now. Tomorrow, once she met them, she’d see if they suited her. Either way, if he didn’t suit her, that was fine too—Chouwa and Choudan could line up together for her Qian’er to pick from…
The fine comb moved through the old lady’s scalp, making it itch pleasantly. She squirmed a bit and asked, embarrassed: “…Is it a lot?”
Qiqian’er tossed the lice and nits she’d combed out into the stove fire, looked up and smiled: “Not much. You’re quite a clean person.”
“That’s right! I’ve always loved cleanliness the most…”
The stove crackled with a dense string of pops, and the old lady’s tone took a turn.
“Well, not exactly not much either. Ah, after a lifetime of hard toil, who doesn’t end up with some! Don’t laugh at me, you have them too!”
“Mm, I do, quite a few.”
“Then tonight you’ll sleep under the old bedding, and later I’ll comb through yours too.”
“Alright.”
That night, the old lady was cared for from head to toe twice over by Qiqian’er. By the time her bones and flesh had gone soft and floaty as if riding on clouds, and Qiqian’er carried her back to the east room, she was already too drowsy to know which way was up.
By the time her hair was finally dry enough, and she’d changed into a new set of inner garments and climbed into the new bedding, she couldn’t even bring herself to savor it for long before falling swiftly asleep.
Once the old lady was asleep, Qiqian’er finally went out, cleaned the big pot thoroughly, then fetched ten more loads of water for herself and heated a fresh pot of bathwater.
Fortunately, this kind of bathing kitchen had a drainage well beneath it, making it extremely convenient to dispose of water.
The old lady had no idea how late her granddaughter-in-law had stayed up working. She slept soundly and comfortably, and when she naturally opened her eyes the next day, she didn’t even want to get up—just lay there in the blankets, feeling like some noble empress.
The old lady touched her own smooth, wispy old hair, then touched her new inner garments, then touched the new bedding, then took a sniff—she smelled wonderful too… ah, what a fine life this was.
She gazed happily at Qiqian’er at the other end of the kang and thought—forget Choutou, just judging by this girl’s skill at scrubbing away grime alone, she’d bet there wasn’t a man in this world who could resist her.
Thinking this, the old lady rolled over in her blanket, sniffed the scent of the fresh cotton padding, and thought—what a pity, who knew when she’d get to see her Choutou. If her Choutou knew she’d found him such a fine wife, he’d surely be beside himself with joy…
On the twenty-ninth day of the tenth month of the first year of Yong’an, Emperor Wu Yang Zao ascended the throne, changed the era name, granted general amnesty throughout the realm, and bestowed titles upon his officials… On the fourteenth day of the eleventh month of the first year of Yong’an, a Monkey Day under the sign of Tiger, an auspicious day governed by the Yellow Path, favorable in the due-east direction, joyful in the due-south direction, fortunate in the northeast—suitable for: settling alliances, burial, encoffinment, moving the coffin…
That day, before dawn, General Tan Shize, whose coffin had lain in state for many days, finally received his posthumous title: Wu Su (Martial and Solemn).
With the posthumous title granted, a memorial tablet could finally be made, and Tan Shize’s funeral could at last proceed. Only, the tablet that had already been prepared in advance—no matter what, it could not be displayed.
The Tan family had wanted “Wu Zhong” (Martial and Loyal), and had always believed that, however you looked at it, Tan Shize deserved nothing less than Wu Zhong.
But wait as they might, hope as they might—after the entire army had waited so many days—what came back was Wu Su instead. Left with no choice, the officials handling the funeral had to quickly send someone to have a new tablet made, and in the end it was displayed with the lacquer still not fully dry.
Once the memorial tablet was set up, Tan Shiyuan led his family’s younger generation in paying respects at the shrine. After rising, he suddenly grew dizzy and swayed on his feet. His eldest son standing beside him, young general Tan Weitong, rushed forward to support him, crying out “Father!” before bursting into tears.
The mourning tent instantly erupted with a wave of wailing.
Tan Shiyuan shook off his son’s hand and stared fixedly at the tablet before him. After a long while, he began muttering to himself: “Shao Shang raised his troops, and you, second brother, defied the ancestral command to lead your men in answering the call. Through countless battles and sieges beyond counting, how many generals, how many soldiers of our Tan family died for that man, Yang Zao? And in the end, what did you, second brother, get for it? Your body and head separated, not even a complete corpse!! Yet why ‘Su’?! Why not ‘Zhong’?! Why?!”
He roared with heartbreaking anguish, and no one dared speak… The Tan family’s younger generation, kneeling there, could not help but harbor resentment in their hearts, grieving bitterly.
Tan Weitong patted his father’s chest and back, then found a moment to exchange a glance with his second and third younger brothers, kneeling on the ground below.
A moment later, a few muffled groans sounded outside the mourning tent. Before long, a squad of soldiers quietly moved in to fill the gap, standing guard before the tent as if nothing had happened at all.
Founding Marquis Tan Shiyuan, holding the official rank of Left Vice Minister of War, Upper Second Rank—because the newly founded dynasty had granted an abundance of noble titles, he was, according to his fief, also called the Marquis of Yiyang, Marquis Tan.
Tan Shiyuan wanted the character “Zhong” for his younger brother, and throughout this period of lying in state, he had been active on all fronts, all for the sake of this one word: Loyal.
Everyone knew that if the Tan family could secure the protection of the character “Zhong,” all their past transgressions could be wiped clean in one stroke, and from then on, ruler and subject would be in perfect harmony—a happy outcome for all.
But clearly, someone was unwilling to allow it… “Zhong Wu” (Loyal and Martial) was the highest honor for a military general, and if the Tan family wanted it, Emperor Wu Yang Zao himself was the first to refuse.
His mind reeling in chaos, without his fierce and skilled younger brother to support him, Tan Shiyuan’s heart had never felt so bitterly alone. From now on, what was he to do?
The realm was settled, the great tide had turned—what could he do to lead the Tan clan’s three branches, over a thousand kin, through the days ahead?
Just as he was lost in melancholy, a long cry of announcement sounded from far away:
“Report…!”
The one delivering the report was Wu Xiu, younger brother of Tan Weitong’s wife, née Wu. This fellow had no great achievements to speak of; he simply tagged along with his brother-in-law in the army, scavenging for credit here and there, always skilled at currying favor.
Wu Xiu, sweat pouring down his face, rushed into the mourning tent and dropped to his knees before Tan Shiyuan: “Esteemed in-law, great news!!”
At a time like this? From someone like him?
Tan Shiyuan flew into a rage, slapped his own son across the face with one hand, then spun around and kicked Wu Xiu, sending him rolling across the ground.
Wu Xiu was scared out of his wits. He scrambled up and prostrated himself on the ground, his voice trembling: “Marquis, spare me, spare me!”
Tan Shiyuan roared at him: “Get out!!!”
Tan Weitong, covering half his face, not knowing what else to do, also snapped: “Get out of here! Don’t you see where you are?”
Wu Xiu didn’t dare lift his head, and cried out: “It’s just—it’s just that I heard, at the first hour of the Hour of the Rabbit tomorrow, His Majesty will personally come out of the city with all the imperial princes and court officials to pay respects to Second Master. I just…”
Before he could finish, Tan Shiyuan seized him with one hand and hauled him up, demanding urgently: “What did you say?”
Wu Xiu, scared witless, spoke through a stream of snot and tears: “Yes, yes, I just heard it from my—my friend in the capital. He said His Majesty plans to bring the princes and officials tomorrow morning to pay respects to Second Master…”
“Is this news… reliable?”
“True, true! It’s true! I just heard it from my broth—my friend, his father works in the Ministry of Rites, said they’re already drafting the decree, the messenger delivering it might arrive any moment…”
Tan Shiyuan flung the scoundrel aside and paced restlessly around the tent. News that the emperor was coming—for the Tan family, it was like withered wood meeting spring, every sign of renewal blooming at once…
After pacing who knows how many circles, Tan Shiyuan finally stopped and gave the order: “Pass the word down—have every unit clean up the camp and wash the war horses…” Having said this, he turned to his eldest son: “Go, have the Long Blade Battalion’s men dressed sharp and imposing. Hand out the new armor. Tomorrow, even if it kills you, you will show them the might and majesty of our Tan family’s Long Blade Battalion—valiant and fierce, blades that dominate the battlefield, do you understand?”
Having given the order, Tan Shiyuan, veins bulging in his neck, roared out toward the open air…
“Tan Er is dead! But his Long Blade Battalion still stands!!!”