The carriage came to a halt. Xu Lingyi lifted the curtain of the carriage window, and Xu Sizhun and Jin Ge’er, who were seated inside, instinctively leaned toward the window to peer outside.

The farmstead in April was lush and verdant, the crops standing at half their full height. Along the southeastern field embankment, several grave mounds protruded from the earth. The Qingming Festival had only recently passed, and scattered flower petals, beaten loose by wind and rain, still lay around the graves.

“Father, is this our family’s farmstead?” Jin Ge’er craned his neck to look up at his father.

Xu Lingyi patted his youngest son’s head. “This is your Fourth Elder Brother’s farmstead!”

Xu Sizhun stared at Xu Lingyi in surprise.

He knew that the farmstead his mother had left him was in Daxing, yet he had never once come to see it.

Was it because he was soon to be married, and so his father had specially brought him here to take a look?

But the moment the thought surfaced, he felt that things could not be so simple.

Even if the farmstead was to be handed over to him, his father could easily have had the estate manager lead him here for a look — there was absolutely no need to set out before dawn, bringing along his Sixth Younger Brother, and make a dusty journey all the way to this place.

“Father…” He opened his mouth, then fell silent.

Xu Lingyi cast Xu Sizhun a meaningful glance. “Nanny Tao is buried here.”

Xu Sizhun could not conceal his astonishment.

From outside came an unfamiliar yet respectful voice: “My lord, a local neighbor is passing by!”

Xu Lingyi gave a sound of acknowledgment and instructed: “Go up and ask them a few questions.”

The person outside answered in the affirmative.

Those inside the carriage fell quiet, and the sounds from outside carried clearly through to them.

“You’re asking about the farmstead of the Marquis Yongping’s heir? All of this land here is his.” An aged voice spoke. “That there is the grave of the estate manager Tao’s mother… Someone came this morning… I pass by here every day, so how would I not know… Besides, the Qingming Festival just passed, and his family came again to make offerings at old Lady Tao’s grave… Still not as much paper money as they burned at Qingming…”

Xu Sizhun’s expression shifted subtly.

The corner of his eye drifted involuntarily toward Xu Lingyi.

Xu Lingyi sat there in composed stillness, his bearing dignified and grave, an air of natural authority between his brows. The words that had risen to Xu Sizhun’s lips were swallowed back down.

The estate manager gave his thanks and stepped forward, lowering his voice to report to Xu Lingyi: “Inquiries have been made. Steward Tao did not come today to make offerings at Nanny Tao’s grave.”

Xu Lingyi made a sound of acknowledgment and sat for a while longer, calculating that the neighbor had by now walked far enough away, before rising: “Let us get out and take a look.”

Xu Sizhun did not dare be negligent, and quickly followed him down from the carriage.

Jin Ge’er had been sitting in the carriage for most of the day, and once the novelty had worn off, he had long since grown bored. Now that he could get out and take in some fresh air, he jumped down from the carriage in high spirits.

Outside stood a man of around thirty, lean and capable-looking in a long robe of green silk. He stepped forward, paid his respects, and led them along the field embankment.

Very soon, they caught sight of the grave mound where Nanny Tao’s headstone stood.

The grave was clean and tidy — clearly someone had just tended to it. In the ceramic basin in front of the grave, used for burning paper money, there still remained the ashes of paper offerings.

Xu Lingyi stood before the grave with his hands clasped behind his back and asked Xu Sizhun: “What possessed you to award a hundred taels of silver and have Tao Cheng come to Nanny Tao’s grave to offer incense?”

Xu Sizhun had merely thought that since he was soon to be married — a joyous occasion — he would give Tao Cheng a generous reward and let him burn more paper money at Nanny Tao’s grave, so that those in the underworld might share in a little of his good fortune as well.

But those words, spoken before Xu Lingyi, simply could not be said aloud.

“Then do you know how much paper money a hundred taels of silver can buy?” Fortunately, Xu Lingyi did not appear to require an answer, and paid no heed to his silence.

Xu Sizhun did not know. But he knew that for the maidservants’ families, even for matters of great celebration or mourning, the most generous reward given was no more than five taels to take home. A hundred taels was an enormous sum.

“Enough to fill eight or nine cartloads,” Xu Lingyi said with calm indifference. “You could burn them for most of a day.”

Xu Sizhun let out a startled sound, staring at his father open-mouthed, his thoughts thrown into complete disarray.

Xu Lingyi gave him a long, searching look, then turned and walked away from Nanny Tao’s grave. “Let us go back.”

The perceptive Jin Ge’er had already sensed the strange undercurrent between his father and elder brother. He stood quietly to one side and obediently followed Xu Lingyi back to the carriage.

All the way home, Xu Lingyi sat with his eyes closed in rest.

Jin Ge’er managed to sit up straight for a time, but before long his upper and lower eyelids began waging war against each other, and he slumped sideways to fall asleep in Xu Lingyi’s arms.

Xu Sizhun, however, was turning over the events of the day in his mind.

What had been his father’s intention in doing all this?

To tell him that Tao Cheng was a man who obeyed outwardly while defying inwardly, and could not be trusted?

But Tao Cheng was his mother’s personal attendant who had accompanied her into the marriage…

As these thoughts arose, he began to feel somewhat vexed.

This Tao Cheng — in his usual dealings he was so steady and reliable. How had he made such a blunder this time?

Now that Father knew of it, would he punish him harshly?

“Father,” Xu Sizhun said haltingly, “Tao Cheng did not do it intentionally…” There was a note of intercession in his tone.

Xu Lingyi suddenly opened his eyes. “Do you know why I made this journey with you?”

Xu Sizhun instinctively shook his head.

“I had you go to the outer management offices to learn how to handle household affairs — not because I expected you to be good at writing and accounting, but because I wanted you to learn how to read people, how to use them, and how to employ each person’s strengths.” Xu Lingyi fixed his gaze on him. “But just look at yourself… You are soon to be married, and you wanted to burn more paper money for Nanny Tao — there is nothing wrong with that. But you handed Tao Cheng a hundred taels of silver all at once. If you had done it as a reward to Tao Cheng, in recognition of the nursing care Nanny Tao gave to your mother, a hundred taels would be entirely reasonable. But instead you told Tao Cheng to buy a hundred taels’ worth of paper money to burn for Nanny Tao. People all have their selfish desires. Even if Tao Cheng spent ninety taels and kept ten for himself, that would be one thing. But look at him — he likely spent no more than ten taels, and pocketed everything else. If you let it pass once, twice, and over time he forms the habit of it, then when you have something truly important to entrust to him, he will only think you easy to take advantage of — how could he ever put his whole heart into helping you? Zhun Ge,” — Xu Lingyi’s tone carried a note of genuine feeling — “all the affairs of Yongping Mansion, inside and out, will one day be in your hands. You must keep your eyes open. You cannot simply act on impulse just because someone belonged to your mother. You must understand that those who will serve under you in this household in the future will not only be your mother’s people — there will also be the people I leave you, and the people the Grand Madam leaves you. If you cannot hold the scales evenly, how will you ever command the respect of those beneath you?”

Xu Sizhun’s heart was a welter of conflicting feelings.

How was he to have known Tao Cheng would act this way… And besides, he could not possibly go around investigating every single matter the way they had done today…

Xu Sizhun naturally did not dare to contradict his father. He could only bow his head and murmur a subdued “Yes.”

Xu Lingyi, seeing that he had no questions to ask, could not help but shake his head in disappointment.

“The matter of Tao Cheng — what do you intend to do about it?” After a long silence, he asked his son quietly.

Xu Sizhun looked up, his eyes wide open, looking rather dumbfounded. “I… I’ll speak with him…”

“Speak with him how?” Xu Lingyi said. “Tell him you came to Nanny Tao’s grave and discovered that he had not followed your instructions to burn paper money for her?”

“No, no.” That would certainly not do. What kind of master assigns someone a task and then secretly investigates behind their back — that was no way for the son of a noble house to conduct himself. But if not that, then what was to be done? He hesitated. “I… I… I…”

Xu Lingyi had not come to make things difficult for his son.

“Do you know why I had Tao Cheng investigated?” he said in a low voice. “It is because Tao Cheng is the steward you trust most. We should understand a person before trusting them. Yet you know nothing whatsoever about Tao Cheng. Simply on the basis that he was your mother’s personal attendant, you placed in him absolute, unbounded trust. You not only handed him the management of the farmstead, but gave him precedence over the other stewards in their very presence, allowing him to lord it over the rest, while remaining entirely ignorant of his affairs. That is a very dangerous position to be in. In the future, when you have many people working under you, be sure that for anyone you wish to employ, you first must understand them. And to understand a person, you must watch them in small matters. Take this very matter as an example. What you instructed Tao Cheng to do, he went and carried out at once — which shows he still has you in his heart. Yet he used only one-tenth of what you gave him to buy paper money — which shows this man is deeply greedy. For someone who can get things done but is greedy, when you use him, you must take care never to place large sums of money in his hands…”

Xu Sizhun listened until his head felt as large as a barrel, cramming his father’s words into his memory wholesale without fully digesting them.

And Jin Ge’er, who had been fast asleep, had opened his eyes at some point unbeknownst to anyone.

He stared at his father with unblinking eyes, his face wearing an expression of deep contemplation.

They entered the city together with a convoy of carriages that had been fetching water from Jade Spring Mountain.

Inside the carriage, Xu Sizhun and Jin Ge’er leaned one to his right and one to his left against Xu Lingyi’s shoulders, both long since fallen into deep sleep. Xu Lingyi’s eyes, however, were wide open, gleaming and bright in the darkness.

The estate manager presented Xu Lingyi’s name card, and the garrison soldiers at the city gate did not so much as step forward to inspect it — they immediately helped move the carriages ahead aside to clear a path for them.

By the time they returned to Lotus Lane, it was already the fourth watch.

Shiyiniang, who had spent the night worrying and had not slept, wrapped a garment around her shoulders and came out to meet them.

“Nothing happened!” Xu Lingyi was full of energy and high spirits, carrying the soundly sleeping Jin Ge’er horizontally in his arms with light, easy movements — he showed not the slightest sign of having spent an entire day and night in a carriage. “We simply went out for a journey.”

Perhaps sensing his mother’s presence, Jin Ge’er rubbed his sleepy eyes and caught sight of a familiar figure.

“Mother!” He squirmed and flung himself toward Shiyiniang. “We went to see Fourth Elder Brother’s farmstead…” His arms clasped tightly around Shiyiniang’s neck.

“Jin Ge’er!” Xu Lingyi said quickly. “Your mother cannot carry you. Let Father hold you.”

Jin Ge’er was still half dazed with sleep and made drowsy little sounds of protest, clinging and fussing.

Shiyiniang had no choice but to let Xu Lingyi continue holding him while Jin Ge’er clung to her neck, and together they made their ungainly way back to the side room with the child.

Xu Sizhun, on the other hand, was now fully awake.

With quick steps, his expression grave, he walked into the Indifferent Studio — then very quickly turned and walked back out again.

“Has Fourth Young Master woken yet?” he asked as he made his way to Xu Sijie’s quarters.

“Why don’t we go and ask Mother?” Xu Sijie had been woken by Xu Sizhun, and after listening for a good while still could not make sense of what Xu Sizhun was actually trying to say. He gave an involuntary yawn. “Mother manages the domestic affairs of the inner courtyard. If there’s anything you don’t understand, this would be a good time to ask her.”

To go and ask their mother about something like this — his mother’s own personal attendant having done such a thing?

“Forget it!” Xu Sizhun said, somewhat dejectedly. “This matter — let us not disturb Mother over it. You go back to sleep. I’ll head back first.”

Xu Sijie felt bad about not having been able to help his elder brother.

He thought for a moment. “Are you going to the study this morning? If not, we could talk the whole thing over more carefully tonight.”

“That works!” Xu Sizhun considered. “Better not to delay your lessons.”

Xu Sijie called for a young maidservant to bring water for washing his face. “If it were Master Zhao’s class, one could still ask for leave. Master Chang absolutely hates excuses for absence…”

—