Qiqian’er pressed the question.

Chen Dasheng answered plainly and without a trace of guile: “I’ll cough it back up!”

Worst case, I just won’t eat your stuff anymore. I’ll give it back to you, won’t that do? Unless — would you even want it back if it turned into excrement? Wouldn’t you find that disgusting?

Yes, this was genuinely how he thought.

This was his understanding of the world’s logic. His grandmother was like this, his mother had been like this, every elder in his old village had been like this.

Later, in the army camp, most of the people around him he’d grown used to behaved the same way.

Qiqian’er was stunned for a moment. That’s right — hadn’t he always been exactly this kind of person!

He was only twenty years old now. The hardships he’d faced had all been directly inflicted on him by others — people had never bothered scheming against someone so lowly, so he’d never needed to think in circles to survive.

The greatest shock of his life hadn’t come yet, so he had no reason to grow beyond this.

But he had to grow beyond this!

The room fell silent. Outside in the courtyard, the goats, unsettled by the unfamiliar place, occasionally let out anxious bleats.

The window lattice stood open, the small hardwood table lay collapsed. The old lady, uncharacteristically well-behaved, said nothing, silently tidying up the pastries.

But inside, she was crying, thinking: Grandson, ah, Nai has failed you this time! I thought she was a good one — turns out our family’s been fooled. Who could have guessed she’d be like this, a living, breathing reincarnation of a shrew…

Thinking this, the old lady glanced warily at her own pipe, then somehow talked herself into feeling better: Good thing I’m clever — I only ever thought about hitting her before, but I was too soft-hearted to actually do it.

Breaking into a cold sweat at the thought, she grabbed the pipe and sat down on top of it.

Qiqian’er said nothing, just glared at Chen Dasheng.

Chen Dasheng immediately understood his wife was upset, but had absolutely no idea what he’d done wrong.

He tugged at the corners of his mouth, trying to smile at Qiqian’er, but was glared right back into submission.

He had listened carefully to everything his wife said just now. He understood why the Emperor counted as a parent — besides your father and mother, no one else gives you food and drink for nothing.

But no matter how he turned it over in his mind, he couldn’t work it out — just because he now guarded the Emperor’s gate, did that mean things couldn’t be like before anymore? A goat, between friendly neighbors — if they ate it, they ate it. Tomorrow if something came up and her family needed extra hands, well, depending on the situation, he’d help out.

As for ten-tael shoes — impossible! And a hundred-tael robe on top of that? Who’s foolish enough to give someone a hundred-tael robe?

When Chang Lianfang gave him things, he never mentioned prices, and Chen Dasheng himself couldn’t tell the value of anything anyway.

Qiqian’er knew right then it was hopeless — her whole carefully prepared lecture had been aimed entirely at the wrong target, like playing a lute for a cow.

From the moment this fool had come smiling back into the courtyard leading someone else’s goat, Qiqian’er had seen the same look in his eyes as in the old lady’s — he’d gotten a good deal, and he was thrilled about it.

This wasn’t the border garrison of her past life anymore, where you earned praise through loyalty and devotion, paid for with your very life.

The place they were going now was called the Imperial Palace! Nothing involving the royal family was ever small. The moment something went wrong, one person’s head wasn’t enough to bear the weight of that guilt. Executing an entire clan, three generations, nine generations — that was the method that place used to strike fear into the whole realm.

Countless images flashed through Qiqian’er’s mind at once: a three-dynasty elder statesman, aged and frail, unsteady on his feet, stumbling and dropping his ceremonial tablet — and just then, Adjutant Chen of the Gate Guard happens to pass by, picks it up casually, tucks it into his robe, saying, nice piece of jade, whatever’s dropped on the ground is mine now…

A beautiful palace maid, wanting to seduce the Emperor, drops a carefully embroidered sachet or handkerchief on the ground — Adjutant Chen of the Gate Guard passes by, picks it up casually, tucks it away: oh, what’s this lying here? Well! Whatever’s dropped on the ground is mine now!

An assassin, having just struck at the Emperor, tosses the blade into the palace grass — Adjutant Chen passes by, sees no one around, thinks, nice blade, and picks it up, swaggering off with it tucked at his waist, showing it off to the assembled officials at the palace gate.

Some noble-born young lord, resentful that the Emperor favors this old blade, passes the south gate and casually unties the jade pendant at his own waist, tossing it to the Gate Guard Adjutant: here, a reward for you.

Adjutant Lord Chen would never refuse such easy gains — he’d happily accept these “rewards,” tuck them away, and think the giver a wonderful person.

But what he didn’t understand was: the moment he accepted these gifts, in the minds of these people he was no longer a fellow official serving in the same court — he was nothing more than a servant sold into the Tan family, someone to be ordered about at will, beaten or killed on a whim.

It wouldn’t matter if he himself became a servant. But what about her An’er? In her past life, with no parents to uphold his dignity, he’d been treated as the son of a servant, casually handed off to be a young noble’s riding boy, whipped like livestock — her An’er, so brilliant, who remembered anything after reading it just once — and he’d been born into her womb, become her child, only for this to happen to him?

The thought struck like a blade to her heart, and clutching her chest, Qiqian’er spat out a mouthful of blood.

Beside her, the old lady shrieked: “What — what’s happening? Heavens above!”

Everyone in the room panicked. Chen Dasheng, badly frightened, reached out to pull Qiqian’er close, but she shoved him back with all her strength, pinning him flat against the wall like a sesame cake before he slowly slid down.

Yu Qingguan and the others hissed through their teeth, leaning back and sucking in cold air — good heavens, a female Tan Er!

The “sesame cake” peeled off the wall and returned to human shape, moving to approach again.

“Don’t you come near me!!” Qiqian’er said, seething, glaring up at Chen Dasheng. Then, indifferently, she wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth: “I’m fine.”

She got off the kang, put on her shoes, walked to the west room, locked the door behind her, crouched down, and cried silently.

Since coming back, she’d never felt this hopeless before.

She’d prepared so many arguments, so much reasoning, wanting desperately to pry open their skulls and stuff the logic in directly.

It was useless! What could she do if they simply couldn’t understand?

People like Chen Dasheng and the others — they’d endured great suffering, borne great injustice, survived great famine, witnessed the hell of people eating people. Even in an age of peace afterward, something in their very souls had taken permanent damage.

From then on, they could never bring themselves to eat fresh grain that belonged to them — it had to be stored, stored until it was nearly spoiled before they could bear to touch it.

They could never eat a whole piece of fruit — it had to be half-rotten before they dared take a bite. They always ate only what was right in front of their mouths, while constantly preparing for next month, even for the rest of their lives.

Each one like a field mouse in the wilderness, forever searching for some sense of certainty they themselves couldn’t articulate. They could endure enormous suffering, and they could also survive by pure instinct.

To live meant to hoard things, hoard goods, hoard money and grain — living this way, on and on, until death, and even then breathing a sigh of relief as they finally kicked their last, glad that from now on, at least, they’d never have to fear hunger and suffering again.

This was a sickness with no cure. It could not be healed.

As long as these people went out into the world, if they didn’t bring something back, they felt they couldn’t consider themselves human.

The old lady was like this. Meng Wanquan was like this. Chen Dasheng was like this. The other six were like this. Even Qiao Shi was like this… They had survived great calamity by relying on this instinct, and had enshrined it as their guiding principle for life, determined to pass it down to their descendants even after death.

But where were they going now?

That was the very heart of all Great Liang — the Imperial City, where all the ministers gathered, where every faction converged to jostle for power among the bureaucracy.

Every one of them looked presentable enough now, round-faced and well-fed, but the moment anyone so much as touched them, they’d crack like eggshells, shattering to pieces!

Her An’er — would he not even manage to become the descendant of a loyal, upright family? It hurt so much. Qiqian’er felt thoroughly overwhelmed with worry, tears falling nonstop, pattering down like a little stream.

The old lady couldn’t even bring herself to call out to her granddaughter-in-law, looking helplessly left and right, lips trembling: “What kind of temper is this? Your eldest aunt, your second aunt, your own mother — go ask around the whole village, whose family has a grandmother like this? Can I even still call myself her grandmother? She’s my ancestor! Oh! How, how could anyone have such a temper — even the day your mothers passed, I didn’t get so angry I coughed up blood…”

The old lady was, in truth, aching with worry, though she herself hadn’t realized it.

Chen Dasheng was panicking too. He knew he must be in the wrong somehow — so, should he return those two goats to Madam Tao? Buy from someone else instead?

In the end it was Meng Wanquan who spoke up: “You must have done something wrong somewhere. Why don’t we go fetch Master Cheng?”

Master Cheng and this young wife were cut from the same cloth — always going on and on about principles no one else could follow, endless and exhausting, wearing people out.

At this suggestion the old lady’s eyes lit up: “Right! Right! Hurry and fetch Master Cheng! Quanzi, go find him now!” That wretched girl had coughed up a mouthful of blood — the child wasn’t even carried yet, they mustn’t let this turn into real illness.

So Meng Wanquan dashed out, and after a long while dragged in Master Cheng, who walked on unsteady legs, lips faintly blue, wearing an expression of pure relief.

This time Master Cheng didn’t put on airs — he offered only the briefest bow to the old lady before immediately clambering onto the kang like he belonged there, scooting all the way to the window for support, warily checking outside to make sure no one was there before finally letting out a slow breath.

Everyone in the room exchanged baffled glances, finding the whole scene bizarre beyond words.

Once he’d recovered, Master Cheng, his face flushed, cupped his hands in apology: “The cold’s been deep these past days, and I caught a chill I couldn’t quite shake off — truly rude of me, I hope the old lady will forgive the lapse in manners.”

Half the room didn’t understand what he meant. The old lady clapped her hands and looked at her grandson with an I-told-you-so expression.

Chen Dasheng nodded solemnly — he knew that scholarly types were all like this, saying things no one could follow, and going on endlessly about it.

Of course, when his wife rambled on, that was different — still, it was rather nice to listen to, her voice was pleasant too. But losing her temper and coughing up blood — that had been terrifying.

Meng Wanquan, being the reasonable one, propped himself up with one hand on the edge of the kang and sat down too, leaning toward Master Cheng: “Ah, well, it’s our fault for being hasty, we didn’t know you weren’t feeling well today, that’s on us. Actually, the reason we called you here is…”

Master Cheng settled himself and listened to the whole account, and found himself genuinely sympathizing with the young wife.

Looking around the room at everyone still utterly failing to grasp the situation, Master Cheng sighed and said to the old lady: “Ah! Old lady, your household is blessed with a virtuous wife… ah!”

What are you sighing about?

The old lady nodded: “That’s right, isn’t she just living the easy life, well-fed with nothing to do all day! And she still… “

Went and coughed up blood, apparently for fun.

Master Cheng, having spent years in army camps, knew exactly how to talk to people like this, and said plainly: “Old lady, when I say ‘virtuous,’ I don’t mean idle. Your grandson’s wife here is truly an exceptional woman — she’d be more than a match for the legitimate son of a rank-three official’s household…” He glanced at Chen Dasheng, crouched in the corner, eyes constantly darting toward the west room, and shook his head.

This displeased the old lady: “Now that’s not fair to say — my Choutou is a rank six official himself! And besides, we’re the Emperor’s own gatekeepers now.”

Still completely missing the point — through and through, the mindset of a servant.

What was the use of explaining further to this old lady?

Master Cheng didn’t bother arguing with her, and instead said to Meng Wanquan: “Go ask the young mistress to come out first. Coughing up blood is no small matter — let me take her pulse and have a look.”

Hearing this, Chen Dasheng shot up before anyone else could react, running to the west room door and calling out: “Hey — hey, come out. Wife — Qian’er? The doctor’s here, let him examine you. I know I did something wrong just now, explain it to me slowly and I’ll understand, let me apologize, all right?”

After a moment, Qiqian’er emerged, her eyelids slightly puffy and red, and walked into the east room. She first bowed politely to Master Cheng, and then felt a fresh pang in her heart.

Master Cheng took her pulse, stroking the wisp of beard he’d just recently grown, and said: “This young lady has long carried some pent-up resentment in her chest. Coughing out that stifled breath isn’t necessarily a bad thing. However, your qi meridians are currently in some disarray… it would be best to find the proper way to carefully smooth them out.”

Qiqian’er’s heart skipped. She looked up at Master Cheng and saw him give her a subtle nod, and thought: There really are more good people in this world than not. I’ve been muddling through, never realizing there was someone unusual right beside me — and now that he knows what’s going on with me, he doesn’t expose me, he even covers for me…

She thanked him solemnly once more.

Watching the two of them speak in riddles neither of them could follow, the old lady quickly asked: “That much blood coming up? Should we get some medicine for her? We’re simple folk, ordinary medicine usually does the trick…”

Before she could even finish, Chen Dasheng had already pulled several ten-tael silver cakes, old prefecture-minted, official-grade quality, from a folded robe nearby.

Without thinking twice, he pushed the silver cakes forward all at once, saying earnestly to Master Cheng: “I’m troubling you — she’s coughed up blood, she’s — she’s my wife now. Whatever illness it is, I’ll accept responsibility, just treat her! Whatever medicine’s needed, just prescribe it, we’re not afraid of spending silver, I have money!”

Seeing the silver cakes, the old lady’s hands trembled, but in the end she said nothing, just watched Master Cheng with pleading eyes.

“She’s — she’s young! Never taken medicine before, just give her a little something, it’s bound to work right away.”

Master Cheng glanced at the silver, then smiled at Qiqian’er: “This truly is a rare, good family.”

Then he shook his head at the old lady: “A few days’ rest and she’ll be fine. Just don’t provoke her temper again these next few days.”

Hearing there was no need to spend money, the old lady breathed a sigh of relief: “Well, that’s that then — provoke her again? That’ll be the death of me!”

Qiqian’er looked at Master Cheng and said, “Do you understand — the place he serves is the Imperial Palace.”

Seeing her distress, Master Cheng smiled gently: “Little sister-in-law, don’t worry. You know my situation too — I deal with people exactly like this every single day.” He gestured at Meng Wanquan: “None of them bad people, all honest and simple at heart, but just like him — they don’t understand plain reasoning either. He has his own logic, and no matter how gently you explain, how much you talk yourself hoarse, he’ll only think you’re the one in the wrong for going on so long about it.

Back then I had him boil medicine in a big pot — one pot should’ve made one basin’s worth, but he insisted on making three. So then everyone had medicine to drink. Only a few months later, all the other injury wards had emptied out one by one, but his ward alone stayed packed full. No matter the injury, it always took longer to heal — wasting rice and grain for nothing day after day. When it was investigated from above, he got twenty strokes of the rod before he finally learned his lesson.”

Meng Wanquan laughed sheepishly: “Hey, why are you bringing me into this? Wasn’t it you who called all the shots after that anyway? What’s that got to do with today, why bring me up out of nowhere?”

Qiqian’er sighed helplessly: “If a mistake at the palace only earned a beating with the rod, I wouldn’t be afraid at all! Even if he were stripped of his post and sent home to farm, I wouldn’t worry about being able to support him…”

Hearing this, Chen Dasheng’s heart eased, sweetness flooding through him — and he promptly began imagining nonsense again.

His wife’s voice continued in his ear, still scolding: “Over there, if nothing happens, fine. But the moment something does happen, he won’t even be able to explain what he’s being wrongly accused of. By then the whole family will be buried alongside him, and no one will even know why they died.”

Everyone around them jumped, startled — how had this turned to talk of dying?

Chen Dasheng felt more wronged the more he listened — surely he wasn’t that foolish?

Master Cheng, seeing how pitiful he looked, said with a smile: “Young lady, take my advice. Right now you’re laying out principles vast as the rivers and seas — but not understanding is simply not understanding! Don’t blame him for it, let it come slowly.

Young lady, why not do as I do — set down rules for them in the camp. As long as they follow my rules, nothing goes wrong. Given enough time, when the actual situation arises and they see the results for themselves, they’ll naturally come to understand. You’re still young yourself — trying to force decades of hard-won wisdom into someone in an instant simply won’t work.”

This time Chen Dasheng could actually follow along, and hurried over, stammering to Qiqian’er: “Right, right, right, just tell me what to do, I’ll — I’ll listen to you, really, I’ll listen to you, whatever you say, that’s how it’ll be! We won’t be angry anymore, all right?”

Qiqian’er looked at that sweet, earnest face — oh! It was infuriating.

She couldn’t stand to look at him, and turned her face away.

Seeing this, the old lady sighed — that’s it, done for! Another Chen Sìniú in the making.

Yu Qingguan and the others exchanged glances, thinking to themselves, poor young general, put through all this trouble — well, that’s it, their eldest brother’s fate is sealed for life now.

Chen Dasheng moved in front of Qiqian’er and pleaded: “I’ll listen to you, truly.”

Qiqian’er immediately felt a fresh wave of grievance, pursing her lips and pointing at the kang: “Sit over there!”

Chen Dasheng nodded rapidly, practically flying up onto the kang, sitting properly in front of his wife, eyes full of pleading, seeing no one else in the room but her.

The others had no choice but to follow him up onto the kang and sit properly as well.

Once everyone was seated, Qiqian’er steadied herself and spoke earnestly: “Some of you uncles are probably cursing me as mad inside. But there are things that need to be said plainly today.”

Yu Qingguan and the others shook their heads together — they weren’t fools, they had no wish to go flying off and sticking to the wall either.

Qiqian’er said seriously: “Well then, let me begin. Starting today, the first rule for all of you is this: every morning, you must rise before dawn. Once up, you’re to sweep your own room and courtyard, and keep yourselves clean and tidy from head to toe.

Bathe once every five days, change your undergarments every two days, wash your feet and face before bed before using the bedding, comb your hair and wash your face daily without fail, rinse your mouth with salt morning and evening, two meals a day, and remember to rinse your mouth after eating as well…”

Master Cheng had expected the young lady to say something else entirely, but instead found himself hearing something remarkably similar to the content of the Women’s Instructions. He shook with the effort of holding back laughter, but on further thought, found himself genuinely impressed.

Personal grooming was the foundation of how people interacted with one another — rough soldiers rarely bothered with such things. But if this group could turn out clean and disciplined, well, that would be interesting indeed.

He glanced at Qiqian’er, who was addressing Chen Dasheng with total seriousness: “Can you manage this?”

Chen Dasheng thought it over, privately finding it all rather troublesome, but since his wife had only just stated the first rule, he had to manage it no matter what.

He nodded with certainty: “Yes! I can do it, and they can too.”

Yu Qingguan and the others exchanged glances, all hope draining from their faces.

Qiqian’er let out a breath, her expression softening: “Second rule: even though life is good now, you must still spend at least one hour each day practicing your skills…”

Chen Dasheng froze at this: “Skills?”

What skills did he have? How did he not know about this?

Qiqian’er made a slashing motion through the air with her hand.

Ah, that skill! Sure, that was possible. Though there were no more cavalry to cut down, saber technique could still be practiced — everyone in the bodyguard corps knew swordsmanship, they could ask around freely for pointers.

She wasn’t about to consider whether anyone actually wanted to comply.

“Third rule: official rank and wealth — accept only what the Emperor gives you. Anything anyone else gives or promises, refuse it entirely. Can you manage that?”

“What counts as wealth?”

“Gold, silver, jewels, official posts, houses, land, fine silks, beautiful wives, thousand-mile steeds, countless shopfronts…”

“Xiaohua gave me a horse.”

“Xiaohua is your sworn brother — what’s yours is naturally his to share too, that’s different from outsiders. Nothing from outsiders is ever to be touched.”

“Mm! Got it, I’ll remember this time.”

“Third —” (fourth, in numbering) “— any duties the Emperor assigns you, you must confirm clearly with your superiors what’s expected. Never neglect what falls to you, and never do one extra thing beyond what’s required. Understood?”

“Mm, understood.”

Did he have nothing better to do than extra work for free?

“Fourth” (fifth): “When colleagues invite you to eat, remember to return the favor with drinks — but after a round or two, find a way to avoid going next time. If a superior throws a banquet, or someone you don’t know well invites you to eat, then… then go ask Lord Zeng whether you should attend.”

“Lord Zeng?”

“Mm, you said the Emperor told him to look after you all — so ask him.”

“What if Lord Zeng isn’t around?”

“Then wait…”

Guan Si’er, sitting bored at the back, poked his head up now that the mood had eased: “Sister-in-law, what if he never shows up?”

Qiqian’er shot him a glare: “Then go ask the Emperor himself!!”

That was said out of pure exasperation.

Yu Qingguan pinched him, and Guan Si’er stuck out his tongue and shrank back.

But Chen Dasheng nodded seriously: “Good! Noted!”

“Fifth” (sixth): “When you go back this time, the first priority is finding a teacher — with full proper courtesy, formally becoming his student. Once he accepts you, you must make time every day to study reading and arithmetic with him. From now on, at every holiday and festival, you’re to honor your teacher as you would a father.”

Without even realizing it, he’d gained yet another father.

The old lady, who had stayed silent all this while, finally spoke up: “Yes, yes! Nothing matters more than this. However it’s done, you all must learn to read and do sums — then no one will ever be able to sell you off again.”

This time everyone nodded together, earnestly: “Noted.”

Qiqian’er, still only in her teens in this life, had grown a bit spoiled with herself, and the old lady indulged her too, so she’d developed a bit of a stubborn streak. With everyone deferring to her, she grew bolder.

Seeing them being so obedient, she let a small smile show: “Mm, so — sixth” (seventh) “rule: from now on, if anyone offers you a ‘reward’ with some scoundrel’s excuse attached, that person is to be avoided from then on, no further contact, no need to show them any respect either. Whatever they give, money or goods, throw it straight back at them. And tell them: unearned gifts are not to be accepted.”

“Unearned gifts?”

“Mm, meaning I only work for the Emperor, I haven’t worked for your household, I won’t take your things.”

“Oh, got it!”

Seeing Chen Dasheng taking it well, Qiqian’er couldn’t help getting greedy and added one more thing: “You’re an official of the court now, and so are they — what right do they have to reward you? If someone who isn’t even an official dares to give you a reward, that person’s heart is rotten through — they look down on you, treating you like their own servant.”

Master Cheng sighed inwardly — these men had, after all, been granted noble titles by the Emperor himself, seven of them counting himself: seven rank-seven officials, one proper rank-six, and one junior-rank-seven captain — and here they all sat, being drilled like disobedient grandsons.

And yet, thinking it over carefully, if these few foolish young men could actually follow these rules and keep to them for a lifetime, then wealth and honor for the whole family, and an unblemished reputation for life, would be all but guaranteed.

No matter which sage’s teachings you followed, they all said: judge a person by their character first, their origins are secondary.

A handful of boys born into indentured servitude, yet neither servile nor arrogant, self-respecting, honoring their teachers, loyal to the Emperor, diligent in their duties — nothing could ever tear men like that down. This was the great and proper way of the world.

For a young girl to see this deeply — how rare indeed. And thinking of the one back in his own household, who only ever cared about the kang — he found himself genuinely envious, down to his very core.

Chen Dasheng recited it all back once in his mind, then asked when he’d finished: “Is there more?”

Behind him, everyone drew in a collective breath of dread.

Of course there was more. How could there not be?

“Seventh” (eighth): “Wine houses commoners can’t afford, teahouses with girls to entertain, gambling dens, dog-fighting and cock-fighting pits — the moment you so much as see one, you’re to turn and walk fifty paces back the other way, stay far away. Understood?”

The atmosphere turned strangely tense. The old lady glanced sideways at Qiqian’er, then decided firmly on this particular rule: “They’ll never remember this one! Break their legs if you have to! Gambling’s too much fun! No amount of money is ever enough to fill that hole!”

The men nodded rapidly like pounding garlic.

Seeing them take it to heart, Qiqian’er smiled: “Then eighth” (ninth) “and final rule: from now on, whatever falls on the ground, no matter what it is, none of you are to pick it up. Understood?”

“Huh?” The old lady was stunned, blurting out: “What if no one’s around?”

Qiqian’er fixed her with a stare: “You’re not allowed to pick things up either!”

There was no such thing as a court-recognized rank-six lady scavenging junk off the ground — word of that getting out would mark Chen Dasheng and the others as thoroughly unfilial.

The old lady, thoroughly displeased, stood up and headed for the door.

Seeing the old lady about to lose her temper, Master Cheng quickly smoothed things over: “Old lady, I happened to see Madam Tao’s youngest son at the crossroads just now.”

The old lady’s steps halted, her eyes lighting up instantly: “The one stationed in the Southern Four Prefectures, serving as a general’s personal attendant?”

She was ready right then to go show off her own official grandson.

Master Cheng nodded, then turned to Qiqian’er with a meaningful look: “Word is, he got into trouble and was dismissed by his superior, sent home.”

Just as she’d suspected.

Qiqian’er drew a breath and climbed back down off the kang.

Seeing this, everyone panicked and said together: “You don’t need to get up!!”

But Qiqian’er only smiled: “I really must. I’ve said so much today, I don’t even know how much of it you’ve actually taken in…”

Chen Dasheng quickly spoke up: “We remember all of it.”

Qiqian’er said, “Remembering isn’t enough. There still needs to be a lesson learned.”

Another lesson?

The whole room quietly edged backward, only Chen Dasheng staring blankly at his wife.

Having said this, Qiqian’er took the key from her waist, unlocked the kang cabinet at the far end, reached in, and pulled out a bundle.

At the sight of it, the old lady nearly fainted on the spot, stammering: “Qian’er? What — what are you doing?”

Qiqian’er slowly unwrapped the bundle, and everyone saw within it two bolts of gorgeous brocade, embroidered with real gold thread in patterns of peonies and phoenixes.

The brocade was clearly something precious — even the ordinary light through the window seemed to ripple and dance across its silken surface.

Qiqian’er lifted one bolt into her hands, wrapped and locked the other away again, then said to the old lady: “This one is mine.”

With that, she cradled the brocade carefully and said earnestly to Chen Dasheng: “This came together with the imperial edict on the day I received my title. Attendant She said that in the past, they used to grant a full set of ceremonial robes for titled ladies, but since there’s no Privy Treasury yet, he had the Ministry of Rites dig up two bolts from an old dynasty’s storage and gave them to us — quietly, mind you. No other titled lady received this; it’s not even listed among the official imperial grants, so we’re free to use it as we please.”

She stroked the bolt of brocade fondly. “To wealthy families, this might look like an ordinary thing, nothing worth their notice — but where among common folk would you find something this fine? This was likely once meant for some past empress or consort to wear.

I’ve seen a fair bit in my time, but I’ve never in my life come across silk this exquisite. The two of us — Nai and I — even talked about it, saying that when we die, we’ll use this as the outermost layer of the burial shroud, a dignity no one else could ever match.”

She looked up at Chen Dasheng and said seriously: “Today, you ate someone’s five-tael goat for free. Whatever this brocade is worth, we’ll value it at fifty taels and pay Madam Tao back with it.”

The old lady swayed with dizziness, ready to fight Qiqian’er tooth and nail, but Qiqian’er glared at her and said: “Old lady, you need to learn this lesson too! I’m doing this on purpose, to make it hurt. From now on, no matter what rank your grandsons rise to, you are never again to take so much as a single coin’s worth of anything from anyone for free. From now on, if you take one tael from someone, I’ll pay back ten. If you take a hundred, I’ll pay back a thousand. Let me ask you — does that hurt?”

The old lady clutched her chest and burst into tears: “I don’t want to live anymore.”

But Qiqian’er, cradling the brocade, was already walking toward the door, saying as she went: “Then let’s die together. You go first, I’ll follow right after.”

Chen Dasheng stepped forward and caught hold of Qiqian’er, looking into her eyes: “I was wrong. You don’t need to do this, I’ve remembered it all, everything you said, I remember it.”

But Qiqian’er said: “I know you’re clever, that you can remember anything the first time it’s said. But that’s not enough. Once life is comfortable, things start to feel unreal, the impression fades, and there will always come a day when you forget.

I need you to genuinely, truly feel the pain of this once, so it sticks with you for good! When Nai takes something from someone, I pay back tenfold. When you take something from someone, from now on I’ll pay back a thousandfold. I won’t hide it from you — I have my dowry shopfronts too, go ahead and squander away at it if you like! If it truly comes to the point where I can’t afford it anymore, I wouldn’t even mind going out to beg for food.”

The two of them stood there, staring at each other, until at last Chen Dasheng slowly loosened his grip and stepped aside: “Then — I’ll go with my wife.”

Qiqian’er turned away, cradling the brocade, walking out as she said: “We haven’t even had the wedding ceremony yet — who’s your wife!”

Chen Dasheng stood there grinning, then quickly caught up a few steps and said: “The Huo family’s own — that Qiqian’er!”

The old lady lay sprawled on the kang, crying as she gathered up a few silver cakes, secretly tucking them into her sleeve, wailing all the while: “Heavenly Father above! The Chen family’s ancestral grave must be flooded — when will that grave mound ever surface again? A shrew incarnate has come down to earth, I don’t want to live anymore, oh Heaven above… strike her down! Strike down that shameless demon of a woman, Qiao Shi!!”