Thanks to her father Sheng Hong’s blessings, Minglan had once had the privilege of personally witnessing nearly ten years of top-tier White Lotus performances. Lin Yiniang could effortlessly stir up Wang Shi’s fury using any number of pretexts — on several occasions, Minglan was almost certain she was actively inviting punishment. Whether standing in penance or kneeling, it was even better if she could conjure some injury, for then Sheng Hong would launch into a great quarrel with Wang Shi.

Nanny Fang later confided in secret that the Lin Yiniang of today was a far cry from her former self. Back in the day — before Yao Yiyi had arrived — Lin Yiniang needed to do nothing at all. She only had to steal away somewhere and dab at her eyes in front of others to convey her boundless grievances, or wax melancholy over spring and autumn to perform her sorrows, or even simply wear a forlorn expression — and the Sheng Hong of those days would boil with righteous indignation, going off to champion her cause, either scolding Wang Shi or lavishing Lin Yiniang with all manner of gifts and benefits.

Minglan’s conclusion: every White Lotus requires one or several righteously indignant champions — people who can be effortlessly “moved” by the White Lotus’s displays of patient suffering and noble selflessness, and who will then march off to vanquish the forces of evil.

In truth, Minglan felt Lin Yiniang’s skills were rather unremarkable. At most, she could coax Sheng Hong into charging on her behalf. The truly supreme White Lotus could even “move” the original wife’s own children to stand against their very own mother, all for the sake of defending a woman who had destroyed their family. What extraordinary mastery that would be.

In short, the White Lotus’s mode of battle meant she must always remain hidden behind others, relying upon certain “righteous individuals.” If she were to take the field herself — snarling and clawing — she would no longer be called a White Lotus. She would be called a carnivorous plant.

And so at this moment, Minglan found herself seized by an inexplicable excitement. She knew full well that many troubles awaited her in the coming days, yet she looked forward to them with eager anticipation. She was deeply curious: once there was no one left around her to use as a proxy, what would that supposedly “wise and magnanimous” lady do?

Some days after the funeral rites concluded, Gu Tingye, holding the old family partition agreement in hand, stood before a full assembly and addressed everyone in an unhurried, offhand tone: “I wonder when Fourth Uncle and Fifth Uncle intend to move out? If you need assistance, just say the word — your nephew is at your service.”

Fifth Master, who had been feeling increasingly stifled of late, erupted on the spot: “You little — are you already driving us out?!”

Gu Tingye couldn’t even be bothered to reply. He simply flicked his sleeve and rose to his feet, took Minglan — who had been standing beside him playing the picture of docile innocence — by the hand, and the two of them departed together.

As the saying goes, it is in critical moments that the true character of each person is revealed.

Faced with Gu Tingye’s imperious manner, Fifth Master — who still retained a measure of personal pride — showed the most backbone. Without a second word, he announced he would move out, and even tossed off a couple of satisfying declarations: “Even if you begged me to stay, I wouldn’t want to.” Fifth Mistress, on the other hand, was consumed with anxiety. After many failed attempts to dissuade him, she could only buy time by citing such things as “the residence has stood vacant for years and requires significant repairs.”

As for Gu Tingyang, having endured quite a fright in the imperial prison, he returned home and shut himself in his rooms to drink and make merry with his concubines and maids, refusing to come out again. Tingyang’s wife, as usual, shrank her neck and kept silent. Since they could not agree with Fifth Master’s position, Gu Tingdi and his wife had no choice but to make their own sluggish, dragging preparations to move.

Minglan heard all this and turned to smile slightly: “See, just as I said. Fifth Uncle is genuinely aloof and principled, but Fifth Aunt is a fake.”

Gu Tingye replied: “When Tingyang’s wife first married in, it was said that Fifth Uncle, even if he lacked worldly wisdom, was always a man of his word and of gentlemanly character — but that Fifth Aunt had rather become the kind of indulgent mother who spoils her children.”

Minglan agreed wholeheartedly and couldn’t help asking: “Who said something so perceptive?”

Gu Tingye’s expression darkened. After a long pause, he said quietly: “Father did.”

Compared to Fifth House’s state of turmoil, Fourth House was unusually quiet. Fourth Master lay in bed humming and hawing, “recuperating from illness,” as if he had never heard Gu Tingye’s words that day. The entire household, from top to bottom, maintained a uniform silence.

Minglan curled her lip inwardly with contempt, but offered no comment.

After half a month of this stalemate, the Lady gradually “recovered from her illness” and began making the rounds, visiting one family after another, advising, appeasing, and sincerely entreating both houses to stay. She even declared on her own authority that Gu Tingye’s words that day had been nothing more than offhand remarks, and asked everyone not to take them seriously.

She also took the opportunity, when Minglan came to pay her respects, to raise the matter.

“Now that Tingyu has completed his mourning period, there is no longer any impediment to breaking ground. The Emperor has granted the land between Chengyuan and the Marquis Residence as well. When do you and Ye’er plan to tear down the wall and merge the estates?”

Minglan understood perfectly and smiled: “The land and wall are right where they are — they’re not going anywhere. There’s no rush on that matter.”

The Lady’s eyes flickered briefly, and she slowly worked the prayer beads on her wrist: “No rush is no rush, but there should still be some plan. Things cannot be put off day after day. We are, after all, one family — what does it look like to be separated by a mere wall?”

Minglan laughed softly behind her sleeve: “What you say, my Lady — Jinling, Qingcheng, and the capital are separated by far more than a single wall, yet are we not still one family? Blood ties and family bonds are a matter of nature. When it truly counts, is there not someone who steps up to help? Whether we are family has nothing to do with a wall. You worry too much.”

The Lady was momentarily taken aback, then smiled stiffly: “I suppose that’s true.” She paused, then resumed with a face full of worry: “There is another matter. Your Fourth Uncle and Fifth Uncle made their mistakes in the past, and that is all over and done with now. It is time to hang the Marquis Residence plaque back up. These past days, I keep dreaming of Tingye’s father at night, and my heart is filled with unease. It is only by relying on Tingye’s abilities to restore our family’s standing and prestige that we can carry on. Otherwise, otherwise… when I go below the earth in the future, I will not be able to face their father.” As she spoke, tears shimmered in the corners of her eyes.

Such an expression of feeling from an elder was enough to move most people, but Minglan kept her gaze turned toward the window and said, unhurriedly: “The late Marquis’s wishes? I’m not so sure about that. His dying wish — did anyone take it seriously at the time?”

At these words, the Lady’s expression changed abruptly.

Gu Tingye was never one to swallow his grievances. This time, having been compelled both to intercede on the Marquis Residence’s behalf and to handle Gu Tingyu’s funeral arrangements, he was full of pent-up anger he could not properly vent. Once the guests had departed, with the Jinling and Qingcheng clan members still present, he let everything out in the open — a satisfying release of frustration.

The several clan uncles who had been entrusted with the matter were overcome with shame and indignation. The eldest son of the main Qingcheng branch was especially vehement, confronting them on the spot: “When you made us hand over those letters, you kept making excuses, clearly saying it was to look after Tingye’s estate on his behalf, lest he squander it recklessly. Even granted that Tingye was reckless and unruly before, once he took on a military post he proved himself capable — why did you continue to withhold them?!”

Fourth House and Fifth House were both deeply embarrassed and dared not respond. Only Gu Tingyang, with no sense of self-preservation, started blathering: “Great-uncle was already at death’s door back then — who knows if his mind was clear? What if he had gone senile…”

He hadn’t even finished speaking before a wave of contemptuous stares descended upon him, and then Fifth Master landed a resounding slap across his face.

Under the condemnation of the assembled clan members, even the Lady’s ironclad reputation for virtue suffered some damage — though she had already returned one-third of the property beforehand. A clan aunt from the Jinling branch, who had always been sharp-tongued and who had often been unfavorably compared to the “virtuous and loving” Lady by mutual acquaintances, finally seized her moment: “And all this time we really took her for a rare saintly stepmother!”

Hearing all this, Gu Tingye was immensely satisfied. He barely even noticed when Fifth Master later returned another third of the property.

Only Fourth Master, thick-skinned enough to withstand boiling water, continued to play the oblivious fool.

The Lady’s expression shifted in an instant, and she spoke stiffly: “Whatever the case, a date must be set!”

Minglan unhurriedly swirled the tea leaves in her cup and replied in a measured tone: “You are right, my Lady. However, the Marquis has said that breaking ground is not a trivial matter, and that when he has the time, he will personally oversee and inspect the work. He is very busy at the moment — it can wait until he has a few years to spare.”

The Lady drew a sharp breath: “A few years? Surely you are joking!” Then her anger surged: “Where is the Gu family’s dignity?!”

Minglan maintained her unhurried manner: “Please don’t be anxious, my Lady. The Marquis says that this construction project will likely be quite extensive — it won’t simply be a matter of knocking down a wall. The Marquis Residence has stood for several generations, and some of the rooms and buildings have grown old and dilapidated. He intends to take this opportunity to renovate the gates, the outer walls, and various other parts of the compound properly.”

The Lady’s eyes gleamed: “Then the residences of the two uncles will also be undergoing construction?”

“That I don’t know — it will depend on what the craftsmen say.” Minglan played innocent.

The Lady studied Minglan for a good long while, her gaze sharp and cold.

Minglan smiled gently and pleasantly: “Even the imperial decree says ‘all matters regarding the merging of the residences shall be handled at your discretion.’ Why the urgency, my Lady? Besides, we are right next door — it’s but a short walk away. If anything arises here, simply send word and we will come at once.”

The Lady’s expression fluctuated between clouded and clearing, while Minglan met her gaze with clear, bright eyes, utterly composed.

“…You make a fair point. There is indeed no rush.”

She did not press further, but eased her expression and settled back against the daybed, exchanging bits of domestic small talk. Minglan, for her part, offered no further remarks and cooperated perfectly, listening to her chatter.

And so this visit passed. Yet in her heart, Minglan remained vigilant: this was a hard bone to crack — she would have to mind her teeth.

After this, Minglan continued her daily routine. She looked in on Shao Shi’s health from time to time, bringing little snacks and trinkets to amuse Xian Jie’er, managed the household, checked on Rong Jie’er’s lessons, declined invitations to banquets at other residences, and observed her mourning period quietly at home.

In early August, she tearfully saw off Sheng Changbai and his wife, who had been appointed to a post in a distant, mountainous region. Fearing the remote area would be lacking in physicians and medicines, they left both their children behind — Quan Ge’er to stay at Shou’an Hall under the old grandmother’s supervision, and the little girl to be cared for by Wang Shi.

The official reason given was that the grandmother was aged and could not bear too great a burden, so Wang Shi was sharing some of the responsibility.

The little girl Qing Jie’er was an adorably pretty child — a chubby baby who laughed and crawled about all day long, utterly endearing, and did much to soothe Wang Shi’s aggrieved spirit. With a new purpose in life, Minglan returned to her maternal home on one occasion and was astonished to discover that Wang Shi had grown rounder in the face and gentler in manner, clutching her little granddaughter and refusing to let go for even a moment.

This was a good thing. It was conducive to unity and harmony.

These days passed without particular flavor. All recreational activities had been suspended, and the greatest achievement was perhaps that Rong Jie’er’s lessons — which had been as impenetrable as the frozen wastes of the north — had finally begun to show signs of thawing.

One morning, Minglan tested Rong Jie’er on the first chapter, “Reverence and Caution,” from Lessons for Women. Not only did Rong Jie’er recite the entire passage in one breath, but she also volunteered, with some hesitation, that she was now able to write it out from memory as well.

The recitation was flawless. Though her brushwork was still stiff and labored, each character was neat and upright, clearly the fruit of considerable effort — just a few days prior, this little girl had written “You Yu Tao Tang” as “squid in broth.” Minglan was both astonished and delighted. Good heavens — she had nearly despaired, but at least this little one would manage to finish the Four Books for Women before her wedding day.

Minglan praised her lavishly on the spot, going on so effusively that Rong Jie’er’s small face turned crimson and she bowed her head in embarrassment. When Minglan opened a box and produced a delicate pair of crystal-set rose-gold filigree earrings as a reward, Rong Jie’er suppressed her delight and pushed them away, stammering that she wondered instead — could Xian Jie’er be invited to Chengyuan to stay and play for a couple of days?

This was the first time Minglan had ever looked at this child with new eyes.

Rong Jie’er was stubborn and energetic by nature, with little love for books — and yet, to come and ask on behalf of her little companion like this, that was no small thing. Besides, Minglan was also fond of Xian Jie’er, who was such an obedient and sensible girl. Since her father’s passing, young as she was, she had suppressed her own helplessness and grief to go and comfort her widowed mother, sternly managing the servants in the household — behaving altogether like a little adult.

Bringing her over for a change of scenery would be good. Minglan agreed on the spot and began thinking over how to persuade Shao Shi.

Rong Jie’er, overjoyed, showed steady improvement in her lessons over the following days. Once the little guest arrived, she became a considerate little hostess — every day she dragged the thin and listless Xian Jie’er out to have fun and take her mind off things: now playing chess, now doing patchwork, dismantling four interlocking puzzles in ten days. A new tangram set of seven wooden pieces was added to their collection. The summer garden was lush with brilliantly blooming flowers that intoxicated the heart and soul, becoming their playground.

Minglan feared that on hot summer days they would keep running outside and get sunburned, so she steered their enthusiasm toward food.

The two little sisters went to the pond to pick lotus pods, then shelled the seeds one by one to make silver-ear soup, chilled with ice beads — cool and delicious. They also went to gather lotus roots to make candied sticky-rice lotus slices, drizzled with fragrant smooth honey — quite flavorful. These summer treats could even be sent over to the neighboring Marquis Residence for the elders.

Minglan also had a double swing set assembled on a soft patch of grass in Koukou Fragrance Garden — stipulating, however, that it must not be used when Sunlight was present, and that if the rule was broken, the swing would be taken down immediately. The little girls solemnly promised. Minglan even had a carpenter build them a great wooden tub — a full two and a half feet tall and five feet wide — so they could splash about in the water indoors. Ancient young ladies had never seen anything of the sort; they immediately went wild, stripping down to their undershirts and soaking themselves in it, refusing to get out.

Day by day, Xian Jie’er, being still a child after all, found that her sorrows could not linger long. Gradually her heart opened up and smiles returned to her face. Without any strict elders around to enforce rules and formalities, the two girls were like students on summer holiday — chattering endlessly like little sparrows, and the whole of Chengyuan was suddenly filled with cheerful noise.

Children truly need companions to play with.

Minglan rested her chin in her hand and gazed absently at their plumper little cheeks — slightly sun-kissed, with bright sparkling eyes full of healthy vitality — and felt genuinely happy. They were not yet ten years old; surely there was no need to be so strict about propriety just yet.

What’s more, with Xian Jie’er around, Rong Jie’er’s lessons actually improved even further.

The summer days were long and languid. By the time Minglan and Gu Tingye had resumed their amorous activities in earnest and were throwing themselves wholeheartedly into the enterprise of creating an heir, the Lady had also returned to her former energy. Together with her daughter, she actively responded to invitations from various households and frequently brought Minglan along.

Minglan was well acquainted with this sort of social call. Before her marriage, she had attended them too.

Since the matter concerned her sister-in-law’s lifelong happiness, she could not easily refuse. She treated it as an opportunity to expand her social network. Besides, in the blazing summer heat, sitting across from Gu Tingcan’s cool, composed, and somewhat haughty face had quite a refreshing effect. Presumably the Lady felt that bringing Minglan along would convey the impression that the Gu household was a picture of harmonious unity.

Unfortunately, even if Minglan was willing to cooperate, Miss Tingcan was still too inexperienced to feign closeness with Minglan convincingly. The assembled ladies of the various households were no fools — they could all see the strangeness and distance between the Gu sisters-in-law. And even those who were not particularly perceptive, so long as they were not entirely out of touch with the social news, would know that the Gu family had still not merged their residences and was living separately.

This was, of course, most intriguing.

In truth, Minglan had little opportunity to speak at these gatherings. In the circles of great ladies, there was quite a pronounced sense of hierarchy and seniority. Unmarried young women were generally expected to keep silent — they must be “gentle, virtuous, and of few words, yet discerning at heart.” As for Minglan, a young daughter-in-law who had not yet borne children and had only recently entered the household, she was even less entitled to appear lively and easy-going.

Minglan had no choice but to sit up properly, maintaining at all times a warm and modest smile, acting as a decorative potted plant, occasionally chiming in with a well-timed remark or two.

What she found most irritating was when certain tactless individuals would ask things like, “Why are you two still living apart?” or “Why haven’t you merged the residences yet?”

Whenever this happened, the Lady would sit beside her most benevolently, settling herself comfortably and waiting with great leisure to see how Minglan would answer in public. It must be said that the Lady had a rather wide social circle — no small number of people posed such questions, and some may have been out of genuine curiosity, while others…

“Breaking ground, constructing a residence — this is no small matter. I thought it best to first consult the geomancer and the fortune-teller, and to pick an auspicious date on the almanac before deciding when to begin.” On one occasion, at a tea gathering held at the Zhongjing Marquis Residence, Minglan gave this answer.

The old Marquis of Zhongjing Residence was General Zheng’s own elder brother. Although they had divided the household in earlier years, the two families remained on close and warm terms. The Zheng family had always been careful and self-restrained, uninvolved in court factional affairs, and with the Zheng Jun and Zheng Xiao brothers having attached themselves to the right leader, they enjoyed considerable favor with the Emperor.

Whatever one privately thought, once Minglan had given that explanation, most people would refrain from asking further — after all, it was a private family matter. But there were always a few quick-tongued individuals who would laugh and say: “Surely there’s no need for such elaborate formality! It’s only a matter of breaking through a wall.”

Minglan would assume an expression of mild distress and say: “Ah… I know it’s all terribly fussy. But the Marquis is a military man — he has earned his reputation at the edge of a blade, and I have never stopped worrying about him. Breaking ground and tearing down walls is a significant undertaking. As they say, these things are connected to one’s fortunes, so it is better to be careful.”

Many of those present were wives of military officers. Hearing these words, they immediately felt a sympathetic resonance — in principle, the wives of military men who had to take the field in battle tended to frequent temples far more devoutly than the wives of civil officials.

Even the normally upright and dignified Lady Zheng nodded slightly in agreement. Comrade Lao Geng’s wife was even more effusive, clutching her chest and invoking the Buddha repeatedly: “Sister Gu speaks well — I myself have just invited a Heavenly Master these past few days to examine our home’s feng shui.” Ever since Lao Geng had come to the capital, all manner of misfortune had plagued his household — small wonder Lao Geng’s wife harbored such doubts.

Once that topic was opened, all the assembled ladies were suddenly animated, each sharing knowledge of which Heavenly Master was most efficacious, which temple had the most devout incense offerings, and which great master had the deepest understanding of the Buddhist dharma. Minglan lowered her head and silently repented: she had not intentionally been promoting geomantic superstition.

The conversation became lively all around. The Lady’s expression darkened, but she dared not let it show.

A truly dignified and composed great lady would never go around pressing people about their domestic affairs. When the occasional particularly tactless pariah did so, Minglan would either lower her head with a smile and say nothing at all — making it plain she had no wish to discuss the topic, whereupon the other party, reading the room, would redirect the conversation — or, if she encountered one or two particularly unreasonable and persistent individuals, she would simply look toward the hostess.

If the hostess resolved the situation, all was well. If not, Minglan would simply visit that household less in the future. It was rarely an unresolvable problem.

The Lady’s social connections might be extensive, but others were not about to go too far out of their way to offend Gu Tingye’s wife.

The most embarrassing incident was when they visited the Lady’s maternal home at the Dongchang Marquis Residence.

An in-law from some distant branch of the family would not let the matter rest, even going so far as to coldly mock Minglan for “delaying the project with excuses and making a mountain out of a molehill.”

Toward this family, Minglan showed not an inch of forbearance. She immediately struck back, smiling coldly: “How very passionate, this elder sister-in-law. The building and repair works of someone else’s household — even the Marquis and I are not in a hurry — what business is it of yours to rush? Such great enthusiasm for meddling in others’ affairs — which family’s rules of propriety is that?!”

The woman had quite a few of the brazen, street-smart instincts of a commoner and was about to start a quarrel. Minglan would not waste another word on such a person, and immediately stood up to leave. Besides, she had no intention of cultivating ties with the Qin family.

The mistress of the Dongchang Marquis Residence — that is, the Lady’s eldest sister-in-law — saw that things were going badly and quickly stepped in to smooth things over, which put an end to the incident. The Lady also dared not push things too far, since her goal in merging the residences was to secure a prestigious match for Tingcan — and if things truly broke down into open conflict, the effect would be precisely the opposite.

After some time of observation, Minglan had a reasonably clear picture of the Lady’s intentions.

At present, the candidates for son-in-law whom she favored most included: first, the eldest grandson of the Zhongjing Marquis Residence — the great-nephew of the two Zheng brothers — one year older than Gu Tingcan, robust and handsome, with an open and warm-hearted disposition; second, the younger son of the Changxing Earl Residence, whose mother was a daughter from the Liang family, which had produced two Governor-Generals in the same generation; and third, a young man from the household of Elder Ge, who had already passed the imperial examinations at a very young age.

When great families sought daughters-in-law — especially wives for the eldest son — they naturally had to inquire thoroughly into a girl’s character and talents.

The Zheng family went to inquire of Xiao Shen Shi — since she and Minglan shared some acquaintance — and she replied bluntly: “How would she know? Those sisters-in-law haven’t exchanged more than a handful of words between them.”

“How can that be?” the principal wife of the Zheng household was surprised. “I heard that Lady Gu is quite proper in her conduct — she goes to pay respects every five days, and you yourself said she looks after her widowed sister-in-law and cares for her niece. How is it that…”

“Sister, you’ve misunderstood.” Xiao Shen Shi smiled reproachfully. “Lady Gu’s husband has done quite enough already — His Majesty awarded a total of only a few sprigs of Snow Ginseng, and he sent one to his widowed sister-in-law and the Lady to nourish their health. What more could be asked? After all, she is only a stepmother. As for that seventh young lady of the Gu family — she is mostly absent when Minglan comes to pay respects, and even when she does appear, she barely says a word.”

The principal wife of the Zheng household fell silent.

The Fu family’s concern was their son’s future prospects, so they sought out the clan nephew Fu Qinran to ask his opinion.

Fu Qinran was silent for a long moment, then produced only a single sentence: “The Second Young Master and the Seventh Miss are siblings who are… not particularly close.”

Fu’s mistress was still unsatisfied and asked further: “What is that young lady’s temperament like?”

Fu Qinran replied: “Well-versed in poetry and literature, accomplished in song and verse, skilled in painting and calligraphy.”

They had asked about her temperament; he had answered with her accomplishments. Those two sentences were sufficient. Marquis Fu and his wife were rather disappointed.

As for the Ge family, they seemed to be rather more inclined toward a young lady from the Jinghai Marquis Residence and were currently in the midst of oblique, roundabout negotiations, halfway along.

In Minglan’s view, given Gu Tingcan’s personality, it would actually be better for her to marry into a family of somewhat less imposing standing — that way, if there were ever quarrels or disagreements, her own family could step in and speak on her behalf. Alternatively, a husband with a more good-natured temperament — someone who could tolerate Tingcan’s proud bearing — would also do.

After a period of social interaction, the Lady had begun to sense the other parties’ evasiveness and hedging, and could only lower her sights.

In fact, beyond these households, there were also very fine candidates — certain General’s families, certain Governor-General’s families, and notable regional clans of prestige — but they would all require Tingcan to marry far from home, which was hardly ideal.

Unfortunately, families with whom they had no connection or prior relationship often had no reliable means of knowing a girl’s true character, and so they tended to judge only by external reputation. Having learned of the peculiar situation of the Ning Yuan Marquis Residence — where the same family maintained two separate households — they, too, had their hesitations.

Minglan remained untroubled and at ease. The Lady, however, was growing increasingly restless. On the several occasions Minglan went to pay her respects, she could sense the anxiety simmering beneath the Lady’s outwardly composed surface. No matter how the Lady hinted or implied, Minglan pretended not to understand.

On several occasions, the Lady had all but set aside her dignity to beseech Minglan outright — her tone mournful, her manner that of a devoted mother, truly difficult to harden one’s heart against.

It was on these occasions that Minglan discovered her own heart could, in fact, be quite hard. She did not feel the slightest impulse to soften, and simply continued to look away with a pleasant smile, deflecting in every direction but the intended one.

Everyone must answer for the choices they have made.

The Lady had chosen to treat Gu Tingye as she had — she should not regret her position today. Gu Tingcan had chosen to treat Minglan with cold indifference — she should not blame Minglan for being unable to speak on her behalf, for Minglan genuinely did not “know” this sister-in-law of hers.

At the root of it, neither of them had been treated unjustly.

Counting on her fingers and judging the timing to be about right, Minglan reported to Gu Tingye that the Lady’s stance had softened considerably. Gu Tingye then signaled the clan elders to formally raise the proposal for dividing the household.