Qiqian’er jumped down from the kang and ran to the doorway to drag the old lady back into the room. The old lady struggled to break free, flinging her sleeves in frustration and shouting, “Why are you pulling me? Why are you pulling me…?”

Qiqian’er asked, torn between laughing and crying, “Where are you going?”

The old lady looked somewhat angry, glaring at her as she shouted, “What do you think? I’m going to get our family’s things back…”

If she couldn’t get them back, she wouldn’t be able to go on living.

She was, after all, a countryside old woman. Thinking of that money and grain made her heart and gut ache as though shattered on the floor. She truly cried from grievance, tugging at her sleeve to wipe her tears, but the tears just wouldn’t stop.

Heavens, she hadn’t cried much these past few years.

Qiqian’er had no choice but to block the doorway and try to talk her down. “Grandmother, if I were you, I wouldn’t even go ask about it, and I’d never bring it up again. As long as you keep it clear in your own heart, that’s enough. If you make a scene about it now, it won’t do anyone any good.”

“No!” The old lady pointed toward the door, trying to explain. “That thunder-struck woman, she’s not even part of our family! She’s an outsider! She and your Fourth Uncle don’t even have a marriage certificate… My things…”

“But my Fourth Uncle favors her! And those weren’t your things to begin with!”

The old lady had a thousand words and a bellyful of worldly reasoning, but it all got stuck in her throat in an instant.

She couldn’t quite wrap her head around how Qiqian’er knew her family’s affairs so thoroughly.

What immediately came to mind was that when Ding Xiang had married out, she’d had a huge fight with Qiao Shi over it, and Si Niu had beaten Qiao Shi for it — but even so, the household’s affairs, big and small, still hadn’t been handed over to her, the mother, to manage.

Si Niu was a Guǒzi Captain in charge of provisions. With the grandsons’ legs bound up in front, if they wanted to send anything back, it still had to pass through his hands.

What had he said to her? “Mother, you’re already so old. Qiao Shi doesn’t have any bad intentions, she’s just not used to you yet — spend more time together and you’ll see what kind of person she is. You’ve suffered enough all these years, you should be enjoying life now. From now on, eat well, drink well, I’d rather starve myself than let you go without…”

These were Chen Laosi’s exact words. And after saying them, whatever things Chen Dasheng and the others sent back from the front, he still handed over to Qiao Shi.

As for his own mother, that talk of “eat well, drink well” was the extent of the relationship.

And how smug Qiao Shi was about it — the day after receiving anything, she’d wait until there was a crowd and hand the grain sacks and money over to the old lady in front of everyone, so that people outside would say Qiao Shi managed the household. Hmph. Who really managed the household — she and Qiao Shi both knew perfectly well in their own hearts.

Otherwise she wouldn’t hate Qiao Shi so much.

The old lady pinched her sleeve and wiped at her tears. Standing around felt pointless, so she hoisted herself up to half-sit on the kang, leaning against the wall with her legs tucked, hands drawn into her sleeves, and let her thoughts wander back over old grievances.

She had borne eight children. Setting aside the two daughters who’d married out and never been heard from again, none of the other girls had survived. Of her four sons, only this one was left, and the grandsons were still unmarried, spread across generations. The old lady didn’t want to provoke the only son she could rely on, but she knew clearly in her heart that this “reliance” no longer had the same heart as her own. What was she to do?

With all hope extinguished, she might as well just die and be done with it.

Beside her ear, her young grandson’s wife’s soothing voice drifted in slowly, sounding calm and unhurried, without a trace of the kitchen-fire temper.

“…Grandmother, even if you found her, could you actually get anywhere with it? As for the old accounts, I’d wager Fourth Uncle himself has lost track of them by now — these past years of eating, drinking, and traveling around all cost money too. You couldn’t prove it clearly even if you tried, right? What I told you — I didn’t even know our family had such matters, and if I’d known, I wouldn’t have mentioned it! That’s right, that was how things were settled under the old dynasty, but now it’s not the old dynasty anymore.”

The old lady lifted her head, unconvinced. “It’s not? Even if it’s not, shouldn’t I at least get half?” She held up her little finger, trembling. “I haven’t seen even this much.”

Qiqian’er shook her head. “Who can prove there’s even a half to be had? Someone told you about it from outside, right?”

The old lady thumped her chest and nodded.

“And besides, it’s no rare thing for superior officers in the army to skim off the rations. Fine, let’s say she secretly hid those things away — but if you go demand them now, could you actually get them out of her?”

The old lady fell silent. Qiao Shi was the kind of person who wouldn’t loosen her grip even if you beat her to death — not a single hair’s worth would she let go. She was so stingy she practically counted grains of rice before cooking.

Seeing the old lady go quiet, Qiqian’er couldn’t bear to press further, so she shifted to reasoning from the bigger picture.

“Grandmother, for now, just let her hold onto it for you. Later, once the whole family is together, you can bring it up in front of everyone. Fourth Uncle is an elder, after all, but he’s still just one person, isn’t he? And you said yourself, Qiao Shi doesn’t count as part of our family, right?” Qiqian’er raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Even if you’re wronged right now, you’d still need some magistrate to sit and hear the case, wouldn’t you? But where’s the magistrate? I’m a generation too junior, and can I rely on those aunties around the estate? Wouldn’t going to them just be like serving up a side dish for other people’s dinner? It wouldn’t even be enough for them to have a good laugh over!”

“Then what should I do?”

“What should you do? Just act like it never happened! Eat well, drink well — you mustn’t go around talking recklessly about it. The new dynasty has just been established, and His Majesty is about to enfeoff meritorious officials and grant a general pardon throughout the realm! At such a crucial time, our side are all military dependents. If any unpleasant rumor got out, unfilial conduct is a serious crime — word would spread and people would laugh at our family, and if it happened to block Fourth Uncle’s career, then… the bond between mother and son would be utterly ruined.”

The old lady muttered indifferently, “Ruined is ruined!”

Qiqian’er raised her eyebrow again. “Now that’s not right to say. However bad he is, he’s still the son you bore and raised! You ought to wish him well! From now on, we should wish him promotions and honors and a house full of descendants. We don’t ask him to be filial to you or help us — once a person’s out in the world, other people will still see us all as one family. If you go out there now and stir things up, fighting and smashing everything, breaking off relations entirely — heh! In the end, people would still see it as one family sharing the same blanket, farting under the same quilt. Don’t you agree?”

The old lady fell silent again, and after a good while, she cast a sidelong glance and said, “Then… if I can’t count on him, am I supposed to count on you being filial to me instead? Do I even… have that kind of good fortune?”

Qiqian’er hopped down from the kang, pressed her hands against the low ceiling and pushed up, testing it, but found she really couldn’t reach it, so she let her hands drop and turned back to look at the old lady, who was watching her expectantly. “Don’t count on me either! I’m a newcomer who doesn’t even have two ounces of meat on me, a little sparrow — what could I possibly do? You said it yourself, I came to your family to live off your good fortune. You can’t go making things up like that, that’d be lying to people, wouldn’t it?

You’re the grandmother of three generations of grandsons with official rank — who could dare shortchange you? If they tried, just let them try — their own spit would be enough to drown them.”

Hearing this, the old lady’s face finally broke into a smile — though it was a forced one.

The old lady sighed bitterly. “Hmph, I suppose I never did enough good deeds in my life. Back when beggars passed by our gate, I couldn’t bear to spare them a scrap of food. Look, now it’s come back on me like this…”

The old lady kept muttering on in her half-alive, half-dead way. Qiqian’er pulled the bedding out of the basket and busied herself with her own tasks, not engaging with the old lady’s bland complaints.

“…You tell me, girl, why am I so angry — she practically spat right in my face and I’m still supposed to put up with it? I’d be better off finding a rope and hanging myself in front of the gate and ending it all…”

Qiqian’er finished folding the bedding and rolled her eyes, and said in a tone laced with mock cruelty, “Fine, go ahead then, I definitely won’t stop you. How nice — once you’re gone, everyone will cry a little and honestly probably feel relieved in their hearts!

Silly old lady, thinking so little of life — you’d be sparing everyone the trouble of caring for you in your old age!

It’s the new dynasty now — a family with official rank, and before you’ve even had a bite of the benefits, you go and kick the bucket on them, what a shame, dying without ever getting to enjoy any of it! Heh, and once that happens, wouldn’t it get lively — my Fourth Uncle’s wife driving his own mother to her death, that’s grave unfiliality, he wouldn’t even be able to keep his Guǒzi rank, and Qiao Shi certainly couldn’t stay either. Then it’d really be a disaster for everyone — you think they’d let you have your way? Come tomorrow, they wouldn’t even bother burning paper money at your grave, don’t you believe it?”

Qiqian’er glared at the old lady, startling her so badly her neck jerked back. But the old lady wasn’t one to back down verbally either, her mouth still going: “So she just gets off easy then?”

Impossible. Now that she, Huo Qiqian, was back, everyone else could live better — but Qiao Shi could forget about it.

“Easy? Look at me.” Qiqian’er pointed to her own face. “I’m the literate, numerate wife you bought for a whopping ten strings of cash and fifty catties of grain. Tomorrow, borrow me some brush and ink, and I’ll write it all out clearly for you, front to back, and you can have someone deliver word to your grandson out front, and to my own Choutou — not one copper coin is to be sent back!”

The old lady nodded, trembling, stammering, “Good, good, that’s it?”

Seeing the old lady so frightened, Qiqian’er inexplicably wanted to laugh. She couldn’t understand it — why had she been so afraid of this old lady before?

She wasn’t even that detestable. If anything, she was rather pitiable.

Qiqian’er looked the hapless old lady up and down and drew a breath. “Yes, that’s it! Ah, look at you, you’re clearly a sensible person, why can’t you work this out? You can’t count on the eldest, so put your effort into the younger ones — warm up to them more. See that good house? Go ahead and claim it. Go around and see what else you can gather up, and any good household goods, go collect them and set them up properly — after all, everything now is ownerless.

You’re already in your seventies or eighties, and still doing all this for them — if they don’t remember your kindness, then they’re not even human. When they die and face King Yama in the underworld, how will they answer for it?”

The old lady’s originally gloomy eyes grew brighter and brighter, and by the time Qiqian’er finished speaking, she clapped her hands in delight. “That’s right, that’s right! That’s exactly how I’ll do it from now on! Let them all go wandering homeless — I won’t let them have a single hair of what’s mine, just you wait!”

The old lady bounced off the kang as if a weight had been lifted, but at the doorway she added, “So… so I’m going now? But… those seventh-rank ones really can’t get into the capital, can they? Seventh rank isn’t small, is it? Guǒzi rank is worth two or three big coppers a catty…”

Qiqian’er nearly choked with exasperation at this pettiness.

Fine, she’d explain it to her in detail, and spare herself the trouble of the old lady brooding over it in secret later.

“Don’t worry, you can’t! It’s simply not happening. I don’t know much about other things, but I haven’t heard little about the goings-on in the capital, even living out here. Under the old dynasty, people entered the capital gradually, once every three years for the exams, taking their time. But now, it all happened in a rush — the old dynasty collapsed just like that, and the new dynasty’s officials are pouring in from every direction with their whole households in tow.

The houses in Yandu aren’t like Qingfeng, which was struck by disaster from the heavens — there are still plenty of living people there, generation after generation, and you can’t just drive them out, can you? Now that His Majesty is eager to win the people’s hearts, why would he bother seizing the ancestral estates people’s forebears passed down?

You shouldn’t look down on this estate just because it’s in the countryside — it’s actually quite good here, not far from the capital, just about two hours by fast horse. Back in the day, there were plenty of capital officials who couldn’t afford houses in the city, and officials posted to outlying prefectures too — they all bought houses in Qingfeng City.

The auntie from the estate steward’s family told me that most of the estates around here were originally bestowed as rewards to high officials of the old dynasty, part of the very first batch granted when that dynasty was founded. Think about it — if this place weren’t good, why would they have granted it to them? Those old-dynasty officials, they weren’t afraid of losing their heads, they just cared about coming back.”

The old lady mulled this over for a long while, then swallowed the reasoning whole, nodding along ingratiatingly. “That’s true!”

After speaking, she looked up at Qiqian’er, thinking to herself — she truly never imagined that in trying to fulfill a wish, doing a good deed on a whim, she’d end up bringing home such a formidable little ancestor.

Well, an ancestor she was then. At least this one knew things, far better than being blind to everything. She only felt sorry for her poor Choutou — truly, Grandmother had failed him, always saying the boy was filial but simple-minded, and she’d doted on him all the more for it. Who could have guessed things would turn out like this?

Flocks of crows flew over the golden throne hall, and armored soldiers in gold armor and silver blades rode past on magnificent, imposing horses in formation before Xinghe Gate…

Drums and music, banners fluttering, sent a few splatters of crow droppings drifting down onto a corner of the Chonghua Gate tower.

A voice full of confusion, carrying the accent of the northern sands, spoke up.

“Big Brother…?”

“…Mm…?”

“…You’ve got shit on your shoulder.”

“…Yours…?”

“…A crow’s.”

Chen Dasheng lazily lifted his head, sneezed, and spotted several crows perched along the glazed-tile eaves of the magnificent Chonghua Gate.

He lowered his head again, watching the crowds of imposing figures passing beneath the gate, then glanced left and right at his own six gray, dopey-looking short companions — well, they were crouched down watching the spectacle, so of course they all looked short.

Including himself.

Rising slightly on his toes, Chen Dasheng picked up his dented “Brave” character helmet, now half-flattened, and slowly put it on his head.

The short fellows beside him looked at each other, then all picked up their own eight-petal helmets and put them on too.

Right, put the helmet on, and the crow could poop on the hat instead.

Big brother was big brother; the squad leader was the squad leader.

Back to watching the show.

Cannon fire like an earthquake rumbled from the eastern hills; the seven short men crouched down slightly and slowly covered their ears…

Chen Dasheng sneezed again, rubbing his nose in annoyance, wondering — had he caught a cold? That couldn’t be right, could it?

Soldiers with peacock feathers on their helmets, dressed in red, green, blue, and black lacquered armor, banners on their backs, rode past showing off on matching jujube-red horses, flying down the street…

The seven short men watched them go, eyes wide as saucers.

The newly arrived Guan Si’er, without so much as a blink, asked the officer beside him, “Brother, my mother says the house His Majesty lives in has nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine consorts inside, and His Majesty changes rooms every day, sleeping with a new consort each night.”

Hearing this, Chen Dasheng sucked in a cold breath, and immediately in his mind appeared an image of His Majesty, gleaming gold, plump and round.

He had seen His Majesty before, more than once.

In his mind, His Majesty, though plump, was all-powerful and capable of anything. But no matter how all-powerful, if every single night he had to be carried by guards from room to room to change beds, then His Majesty was really quite pitiable.

Thinking this over, Chen Dasheng turned very seriously to the newcomer and said, “…Poor guy.”

Guan Si’er didn’t understand what Big Brother meant, so he turned to look at Tong Jintai beside him.

Tong Jintai, of course, had no idea what was going on in his most-admired big brother’s head, but he couldn’t let that show — he’d never once managed to see into his big brother’s inner thoughts, so instead he put on a look of disdain, rolled his eyes at Guan Si’er, and gave a scornful snort.

Guan Si’er felt deeply ashamed, lowered his head to think it over for a good while, then suddenly seemed to understand and said, “So that’s why he’s Big Brother!”

Chen Dasheng sneezed again.

Suddenly hearing himself praised like that, he felt rather bewildered inside, blinking a few times. Hm, a bit cold — had he really caught a chill?

He tucked both hands into his sleeves.

The remaining six short men followed his example and tucked their hands into their sleeves too.

The newcomer continued gazing at his big brother with worshipful admiration. He’d followed him charging into Yandu, watched him wield his long saber up front, reaping lives — no one could withstand three strokes from Big Brother; no matter how tall the warhorse or how thick the armor, once Big Brother’s long blade passed through, everything split in two…

Unlike a few days ago, Big Brother was now all lazy ease, the sunlight bathing his face, calm and benevolent like the old deity statue in the temple. Look at his long, narrow eyes, his runny nose — ahem, best to forget that part — Big Brother really was extraordinarily handsome, even his sleepy, half-awake look was somehow uniquely charming.

Drums and music filled the air, the formations passing beneath the wall column after column — those carrying blades, those hoisting spears, riding white horses, red horses, dappled horses, so many horses — how much farmland could they plow…

“Big Brother?”

“…Mm?”

“Why exactly are we crouching here?”

“…Saving. Food.”

“Big Brother, brilliant insight!”

Yu Qingguan spat down at the horse formation below, thinking with boundless admiration — truly, what other people lacked in wits, Big Brother possessed. Not moving meant not getting hungry — what a way to save food.

A grumble rose from someone’s stomach; Ma Ergu glanced somewhat sheepishly at his brothers. Ever since they’d stormed into Yandu, they’d lost contact with their superior officers.

The several of them had been drifting through the palace with Big Brother, some trying to kill them, and they’d killed plenty of others too.

Big Brother was clever — he’d led them to places no one else went, and they’d made off with quite a few good finds. Thinking of this, Ma Ergu pulled a pearl-studded embroidered shoe from his robe, sniffed it, and imagined the beautiful young lady it must have belonged to — which only made him hungrier.

Four years ago, they’d all trained together fresh out of the new recruits’ camp; along this bumpy road, Ma Ergu had finally come to understand one truth — follow Big Brother and you won’t go hungry, and you’ll have a chance at survival.

See, now they didn’t even have to suffer like the theater troupes performing down below.

And so, once Ma Ergu had had his fill of sniffing that fragrant shoe, he turned his head toward his big brother, Chen Dasheng.

Ah, there was really nothing to be done about these guys.

Chen Dasheng rose lazily to his feet, picked up the cloth-wrapped long saber from the ground and slung it on his back, then edged along the undulating watchtower wall, slowly, slowly, feeling his way toward finding some food…

His brothers trusted him — none of them turned to watch him go, nor worried about him.

Far, far in the distance, cries of “Long live the Emperor” spread out in every direction… mountains and rivers echoing with cheers.

Who knows how much time passed before Chen Dasheng returned, a large bundle on his back, still edging slowly along the watchtower wall. His fellow soldiers, sharp as ever, sensed his return and gathered together to find a sheltered corner to crouch in.

Catching the scent, Ma Ergu eagerly and carefully pulled a square of oiled cloth from his robe and spread it out, tenderly brushing off dust that wasn’t even there.

Chen Dasheng crouched down close by and began setting out bowls of food from the bundle on his back, one by one, onto the cloth.

No one knew where he had gone — the palace was so vast, some places crowded with people, others so ruined that not even rats could survive.

Nor did anyone know how he’d managed, weaving through the crowds without spilling a drop of soup, to carry all these bowls back intact.

A bowl of oil-noodle rice, a bowl of pork rice, a bowl of tangyuan soup dumplings, a bowl of lotus seed rice, a bowl of longan rice, a bowl of chicken rice, a bowl of fish rice, and finally, one large pig’s head.

The food was exquisitely presented, decorated with beautiful characters cut from red paper — a pity none of the seven crouched there could read.

A small cheer went up; they glanced at each other, and Tong Jintai grabbed the oil-noodle rice, Cui Erdian grabbed the pork rice, Ma Ergu grabbed the longan rice, Hu Yougui grabbed the lotus seed rice, Guan Si’er grabbed the fish rice, Yu Qingguan grabbed the chicken rice.

The men, hearts full of reverence, offered the sweet tangyuan and the pig’s head to Big Brother to eat.

Chen Dasheng picked up the pig’s head, split his mouth open, and sank a mouthful of white teeth right into its forehead. All around, a cheer went up, and everyone briskly picked up their bowls and started eating.

“Big Brother! Delicious!”

Chewing, chewing, chewing.

Guan Si’er, still the newcomer among them, ate until his stomach allowed him to speak, then finally asked Chen Dasheng with reverence, “Big Brother, this is so good! Where did you get all this?”

Chen Dasheng said nothing, his oil-glistening lips and cheeks still working endlessly.

How was he supposed to tell them where he’d gone? Chen Dasheng had a bellyful of things to say, but with half the pig’s head already gone, he still hadn’t figured out how to say it.

His mind drifted back over the path he’d just taken — he’d come down from the watchtower, crawled along the cobbled palace paths, climbed over the roof of the main hall, crossed a small bridge, bounced along tree branches, and finally arrived at a room filled with statues of deities.

Young palace maids with oiled hair, dressed in beautiful colored robes, had formed a line, carrying all sorts of food and drink to store in that room — so much of it, so very much, several whole tables full… if he didn’t eat it, it’d go to waste.

Chen Dasheng felt he was a meritorious officer, and eating a little wouldn’t matter. He’d even kowtowed, and the deities in the hanging paintings hadn’t objected.

And so he’d chosen an inconspicuous small table, taken the seven bowls on it — the pig’s head offered in the center smelled so good, and since his brothers had exerted such brute strength storming Yandu, Chen Dasheng had brought that along too.

Guan Si’er’s innocent gaze still lingered on Big Brother; Chen Dasheng, feeling tender toward the boy’s youth and pity for his simplemindedness, set down the pig’s head, wiped his mouth, drank half a bowl of tangyuan soup, then pulled Guan Si’er over to the watchtower wall, pointed toward the palace and said, “Go down from here… mm… mm~mm… mm mm~mm~~~~mm mm… mm~mm!”

He was certain he had explained things in great detail — only a fool wouldn’t understand what he’d just described. He held up two fingers, tracing the rise and fall over the palace, and Guan Si’er’s head followed the arc he traced back and forth.

Chen Dasheng told him the route, and seeing him nod, patted his shoulder in satisfaction, praising him for being clever, then went back to gnawing on the pig’s head.

Yu Qingguan casually tore off a piece of ear from the pig’s head, eating as he said with a quiet laugh to Chen Dasheng, “Boss, is it fun bullying kids?”

At this, a faint, barely visible smile tugged at Chen Dasheng’s usually wooden face. He glanced at Yu Qingguan, then looked out at the distant roaring crowd and said, “…Just like you back then, a foolish little piglet…”

Yu Qingguan laughed softly and shook his head; after laughing, he patted his bulging stomach, leaned against the great pillar of Chonghua Gate, and began humming a rustic country tune. Humming, he said, “So, Boss? Once things settle down over there tomorrow, where do you think the rest of us will go?”