After returning home from the mountain, Qiqian’er hid away in embarrassment for a good long while, until after the New Year she was forced by household duties to go stay in Yandu for half a month.

By the first month of the fourth year of Yong’an, Qiqian’er, already having been a mother once before, had confirmed she was pregnant again. From then on, the stone in her heart finally settled, and she felt thoroughly at ease.

She was overjoyed beyond words, often staying up late sitting up to sew little clothes and jackets.

As for the pregnancy, she hadn’t told anyone about it—by common custom, one waited until the third month was secure before mentioning such things. She truly, sincerely wished for that security.

Once things quieted down in Yandu and she no longer needed to go out for social obligations, she happily returned to Qinwei Lane with her father. Interestingly enough, she was fond of Qinwei Lane, and her father liked it too. These days he didn’t care to stay home either, often crouching over at the old estate, watching the pile of chubby little girls rolling around on the kang at Qinwei Lane, laughing like an old fool.

The family had now emerged from mourning as well, and Qiqian’er, in good spirits, began selecting some of the invitations sent by neighbors around Qinwei Lane to pay visits—this was unavoidable, after all, one had to go out sometimes.

Early this morning, Qiqian’er wore a small floral coronet inlaid with jade pieces, dressed in a brilliantly colored peacock gauze robe. Her hair, having long since shed its sparse wisps, was now black as clouds—she didn’t even need a hairpiece, and could simply use shaving-water pomade to brush it up into a high chignon.

These past two years, whenever the Fourth Madam of the Chen household was mentioned on Quanhou Street, people always had to praise her for having such fine hair—a glossy sheen that no amount of ink could replicate.

Only those who’d truly lived understood that the right age called for wearing bold reds and greens—how rare such vivid colors were to pull off; if you didn’t wear them at the right age, you’d never be able to carry them off again later.

And so, Qiqian’er draped herself in brocades of every color, with no regard whatsoever for restrained elegance, going all out for a riot of color—and even so, Chen Dasheng approved, even praising her as the most beautiful woman in the world.

This was just a country boy who’d only seen a bit of the world in these few years—what did he understand? And what did Qiqian’er understand either! Either way, wealth had its own logic—if brocade tapestry cost an inch of gold per inch of fabric, so what? They had the money—buy it! One outfit not enough? Heh heh, then four outfits.

Fortunately, Qiqian’er had truly come into her own, her face following her spirit—her features now bright and lovely, not quite top-tier beauty, but possessing a commanding presence no one else had. Yes, that was exactly the word—when she was present, everyone else was overshadowed by her.

She was bold too, able to carry off any color, especially loving vivid red—when she walked past, she seemed like a ball of blazing fire, as if she could set all of Quanhou Street ablaze with her heat at any moment.

Once dressed and ready, Qiqian’er sent people to call on Cai Shi and Zhang Wanru to join her in attending a flower-appreciation gathering at the Tang residence.

Qiqian’er looked down on the Second and Third Branches of the Tang household, but held no ill feelings toward the Tang family’s Old Madam, nor toward Li Shi, the wife of Tang Jiuyuan.

Never mind the eldest versus the second branch—her own family had Chen Sini, and Qiao Shi too. Not to mention, in her previous life, on the day Chen Dasheng’s funeral procession went out, she’d trudged back alone from the graveyard, utterly in despair, only to find a small sedan chair waiting for her on the road. The matron waiting there had said she was from the Tang household, that the family’s Old Ancestress, fearing she might come to harm traveling alone, had sent someone to wait here and escort her home… this was an act of kindness offered in her direst hour of need.

Small as it was, she’d remember that kindness for a lifetime.

Choutou, upon his return, had also said that if the Tang family sent an invitation, she should go and sit a while—Tang Jiuyuan was a decent man, thorough, refined, and good-tempered besides. Especially in Guan Si’er’s case, the man had exerted considerable effort on their behalf.

And one shouldn’t underestimate this visit of Qiqian’er’s—barring any mishap, that woman was all but certain to become the future Commandery Princess consort, with a husband of considerable help besides, both starting from a high position, with limitless prospects ahead.

The Tang residence wasn’t far from the Chen residence; taking a carriage with a whole retinue of servants would seem needlessly affected, almost deliberately ostentatious. So the three sisters-in-law each brought along one maid, and strolled leisurely over to the Tang residence—close enough that they didn’t even need a soft-carried sedan.

Tang Jiuyuan’s wife, Li Shi, had sent invitations to all the ladies of Qinwei Lane, though unfortunately, since she was hosting a poetry gathering centered on flower appreciation, most couldn’t attend—especially Yuniang, who still didn’t dare socialize to this day, though Yu Qingguan gave thanks to Buddha just for her being alive and well. As for the others, each had her own reasons for inconvenience.

As for Li Shi—how to describe her? Qiqian’er was willful enough, but Li Shi’s willfulness surpassed even hers. Born the legitimate youngest daughter of a great and prestigious household, doted on since childhood, willful enough that among a whole crowd of suitors, she’d simply picked out the most handsome one to marry, and her family had actually gone along with her wishes.

Among the nobility there were still ranks—she’d married down to the Tang family, but was pampered by the whole household; her parents-in-law never argued with her, her sisters-in-law didn’t dare compete with her. Her life was comfortable, spending her days freely, tasting tea and admiring flowers, drinking wine beneath the moon…

Tang Jiuyuan was easygoing, and she did as she pleased—not even a princess lived as comfortably as she did.

Li Shi was willful and proud, disliking what she disliked without exception—besides her parents-in-law, she looked down on nearly everyone. Throughout all of Quanhou Street, apart from Qinwei Lane, she admired Old Dao’s fierce spirit, respected She Qingling’s noble bearing—as for wealth and family status, these she paid no mind to at all.

After all, those of lesser rank than her family didn’t have as fine a background, and those of similar or lesser standing didn’t have as rich a dowry as hers. Noble women, when they looked down on someone, never showed it on their faces; they rarely grew angry—they simply moved through in their bustling carriages, encircled by their own world, unreachable by anyone else. If anyone dared provoke them, they needn’t lift a finger themselves—there would naturally be others eager to curry favor by dealing with it.

When Qiqian’er arrived at the Tang residence, Li Shi personally came to greet her at the second gate. Seeing how beautifully dressed Qiqian’er was today, Li Shi took her arm and said: “Fourth Madam, are you here to steal my thunder?”

She too wore a small floral coronet today, though the jade wasn’t as fine as Qiqian’er’s. She wore brocade today too, but from old stock accumulated over the years, while Qiqian’er wore new gauze.

Qiqian’er’s floral coronet had come from her father-in-law giving her the storehouse keys and letting her choose freely—items crafted for the former imperial household, naturally of the finest quality.

In good spirits, Qiqian’er said candidly: “That’s right. Where’s Eldest Madam’s thunder? Let me steal it and give it a blow.”

The end result of arrogance and pride was often just plain foolishness—after several visits, Qiqian’er had figured this woman out: she was simply spoiled rotten by her own parents.

Li Shi, thus put in her place, only smiled without minding at all, and exchanged greetings with Zhang Wanru and Cai Shi. Once the greetings were done, she quietly asked Qiqian’er: “They say the old gentleman seems to be staying at your place these days?”

She meant She Qingling. Never mind that the Commandery Prince’s body wasn’t whole—precisely because of that imperfection, that bitter resilience, his outstanding literary talent, his perseverance through hardship, his decisive resolve, his graceful retreat at the height of success… in short, who knew how many young women throughout Daliang, upon thinking of him, felt their hearts ache with tenderness, holding for him genuine reverence mixed with pity… ahem.

Even women his own age, speaking of other matters, still looked upon him with unmistakable longing and deep affection.

Qiqian’er, of course, knew all about this, but couldn’t quite fathom what was so appealing about her own father, who cared for nothing, went barefoot planting vegetables, secretly tasted mouthfuls of the girls’ porridge, never rose before the sun was high in the sky, and occasionally picked at his own feet.

She nodded: “My father, yes! At home, oh, right about now he should be out with a worn basket, up the mountain digging spring greens.”

Li Shi was overjoyed, turning to instruct someone: “Go, pick out ten pots of the February orchids just sent from the capital, and add the fine apricot blossom branches cut this morning—send them all to Fourth Madam’s residence.”

She sent gifts as she pleased, and Qiqian’er didn’t bother stopping her, simply going with her to the eldest branch’s courtyard.

The Tang family had the foundation of an old established clan—the moment one entered, one could see their rules were well-kept; the servants moving about carried a particular refined quality about them—hard to name exactly what quality, but the kind her father-in-law appreciated most.

Qiqian’er silently praised this in her heart, but didn’t notice that as they passed into the second courtyard, a woman was peering anxiously through a crack in a rough door, watching her.

Tang Jiuyuan and Li Shi occupied the entire three-courtyard Qipan complex by themselves—their side had a garden, a kitchen, a newly built small opera stage, even their accounts kept separately from the main ledger. Yet the Tang family, young and old, said nothing about it.

Before the group had even entered the courtyard, a faint fragrance drifted to them—a very elegant, natural scent. Once they stepped into the courtyard, they saw the courtyard’s central well area layered with countless blue-purple February orchids, truly like a fairyland.

To match this floral scheme, even the servants’ attire in the courtyard—light gauze fluttering in the spring breeze—the vessels used to serve the guests, even the tassels on the famous zithers prepared for guests to play, were all in shades of blue-purple.

A true gathering hosted by noble ladies often required elaborate arrangement down to the smallest detail—even the female guests attending would strive for a picturesque effect in their own dress and adornment. It wasn’t about competing for attention, but focusing on detail, striving for a unified effect.

Unfortunately, Qiqian’er understood none of this, nor did she need to—she simply strode in, bright as flame, and no one said anything, though two young ladies seated in the place of honor felt a slight displeasure.

These two young ladies were clearly unfamiliar faces, not from Quanhou Street, their features carrying a soft, delicate quality typical of the south—they were exceptionally beautiful, the kind of beauty that would stun any woman who saw them.

The young ladies had been treated like treasures ever since leaving their hometown, and even here at the Tang residence, were entertained as honored guests.

But before they’d even settled comfortably, a ball of flame swept in, and everyone rose at once to greet her enthusiastically—their spotlight thoroughly stolen.

The young ladies, still quite young, held their round fans up to their mouths and asked quietly: “Who is that?”

Their tone was clearly displeased, yet those around them didn’t answer, only smiling politely, going together to greet Qiqian’er properly with courteous exchanges.

Once everyone sat back down, someone quietly said to the two young ladies: “You two should be more careful—though this is Qingfeng, that’s the first household of Qinwei Lane, Madam Huo, the household manager of the Blessed Auspicious Commandery Prince’s residence.”

Before coming to the capital, the young ladies’ families had briefed them on who was who—hearing this name, they immediately dared not act arrogant, sticking out their tongues playfully instead: “Ah, so that’s this esteemed lady.”

“Yes, that’s her indeed—you two still aren’t cautious enough.”

This woman’s father was the grand ancestor of all eunuchs, her husband the little ancestor of all palace servants. She was the chief little demon before King Yama himself—offend anyone, but don’t offend her.

Li Shi asked Qiqian’er to take the central seat, but Qiqian’er shook her head and stepped aside instead, saying: “I barely know a handful of characters—I certainly won’t sit there. Never mind composing poetry or painting—you all could even change the style of writing, the same characters divided into large or small seal script, running or cursive script, and I wouldn’t recognize a single one blinking my eyes. If I make a fool of myself, it’ll ruin your fine mood for admiring spring and competing over flowers. You all go ahead and enjoy—I’ll just watch, that’s fine.”

Her words were gracious, not seeking to take precedence, and everyone laughed together at this.

Then the beautiful young lady seated in the center, her face wreathed in honeyed smiles, said: “Madam, don’t worry—today we’re only competing over the February orchids, and whoever loses just drinks wine, no need to compose poetry…” She stuck out her tongue adorably: “I, I’m not good at it either.”

Who doesn’t like beautiful things?

Qiqian’er looked at the young lady, then said to Li Shi in astonishment: “I say, you invited two immortal maidens to sit here for a flower competition? With a pair like that sitting over there so beautiful, even the flowers would die of shame.”

Everyone laughed together, and the young lady, embarrassed by the comment, lowered her head, the anxious heart she’d been holding finally settling down.

But Li Shi’s expression turned indifferent. Watching everyone begin playing zithers, admiring flowers, chatting and painting, she said quietly beside Qiqian’er: “Those two came through my family’s Old Ancestress’s connections, distant relatives! Said to be candidates being selected for the Second Prince.”

Hearing this, Qiqian’er felt a slight shock inside, thinking of that Old Ancestress who ate vegetarian and chanted scripture—no matter what standing she’d held in her previous life, the woman had always been willing to lend a hand… well… never mind. People all have two sides, and wasn’t she the same herself?

She lifted her fan to cover her mouth, her eyes darting over to look again, then said to Li Shi: “Say what you will, they really are quite lovely. Remember that Ruiniang from our street before—back then I thought that level of beauty was already the peak, who would’ve thought there could be beauty like this too? Just those two little faces alone, with even a bit of literary talent in their bellies, could inspire a hundred long poems just from looking at them… tsk tsk tsk.”

Actually, His Majesty was fond of this type too—who would’ve thought his son took after him in this regard.

Li Shi held back a laugh, tapping Qiqian’er lightly with her butterfly-patterned fan.

Since Qiqian’er hadn’t mentioned Ruiniang by name, Li Shi couldn’t quite place who that was, but with her own younger brother constantly hanging around His Majesty, she did know some things, and so leaned in closer to Qiqian’er without making it obvious they were whispering, saying with a smile: “Didn’t your husband ever mention this to you?”

Qiqian’er blinked: “Mention what? I never ask about these things anyway. Look at how busy Libu Lane is these days, carriages coming and going nonstop, all heading to the Peng family—isn’t it because they have a lady in the palace now!”

Hearing Qiqian’er say this, Li Shi grew indignant, saying: “Pah! How many beauties have you even seen? That kind is quite ordinary, really—her only advantage is her youthful, flower-like age, just at her peak of youth. That woman got in long ago, and even now is only a Selected Maiden—fooling those outside who don’t know the inside details, calling her ‘lady’? It’s about the same as those eighty-one consorts described in old books… in the end, it really comes down to what’s here.”

Li Shi touched her own belly—not referring to literary talent, since His Majesty was a rough sort who understood nothing of poetry and prose, but rather to disposition and character.

With so many women confined together in one palace, if one’s temperament was weak, even without others coming to harm her, simply enduring the days like a prisoner in solitary confinement would be enough that most didn’t live long.

Seeing Li Shi touch her belly, Qiqian’er instinctively touched her own too. Just then, servants brought over hot tea, but Qiqian’er had them bring plain water instead.

Li Shi’s eyes lit up at this, and she asked quietly: “Do you have one on the way?”

This woman, despite not meddling in others’ affairs, saw through things ten times better than even the capable Zhang Wanru.

Qiqian’er tapped her with her fan, and she immediately dropped the subject.

They chatted intimately a bit more, then Li Shi rose to attend to other guests, composing poetry along the way as she pleased. Qiqian’er couldn’t tell if it was good or not, but Zhang Wanru and Cai Shi praised it, even having the maid beside them record it carefully, saying they’d savor it again at home.

Watching Li Shi’s lifestyle, one could see she too commanded attention among the ladies through her literary talent, sparing no expense in hosting gatherings, and everyone enjoyed themselves thoroughly. After a while of laughing and chatting, some clever, charmingly dressed maids led small decorated wooden carts, trimmed with colorful ribbons, carrying that day’s competing February orchids around for the guests to admire one by one.

This cart was called the “spring-moving rail,” and though Qiqian’er had come empty-handed, she still had her own flower cart, with verses composed by ladies familiar and friendly with her hung upon it.

There was no need to determine winners or losers—it was simply for enjoyment.

While everyone was in the midst of enjoying themselves, a woman in purple silently slipped in, glanced around the room, then approached Qiqian’er step by step.

Qiqian’er had barely looked at a few flower carts when she caught a whiff of an overpowering, pungent fragrance.

“Oh my! Who is this! Greetings to Fourth Madam—it’s been so long, hasn’t it? You still remember me, don’t you?”

Qiqian’er covered her face with her handkerchief, a wave of nausea rising, and began to retch.

Zhang Wanru, startled, immediately said to this woman: “Forgive me, please step back a bit… my sister-in-law here isn’t feeling quite well today, and your scent seems to clash with her condition…”

This woman was from the Tang family’s Second Branch—not even a proper wife, but the concubine standing in to manage the Second Branch’s affairs.

The woman, somewhat embarrassed, retreated two steps with an awkward laugh, then, fearing she might offend Qiqian’er, apologized and quickly retreated to the side.

Li Shi hurried over, first shooting a glare at her—inwardly furious that whoever was guarding the gate hadn’t done their job properly—but with no time to deal with that now, she fussed anxiously around Qiqian’er instead: “If I’d known you were like this, I never should have invited you—if anything happens to you here, I couldn’t bear the responsibility.”

After a good while of discomfort, Qiqian’er finally said: “I, this is actually the first time I’ve thrown up…”

Zhang Wanru, hearing this, jumped up at once: “You, you mean, you’re—expecting?”

Qiqian’er had consummated her marriage before the New Year, and since then the young couple, though often apart, had both figured they’d conceive sooner or later. She was sturdy besides, still rising early every day as usual, going about her business as always, so no one had thought much of it.

Li Shi bustled about arranging everything, her feet practically flying—she felt a wave of retrospective fear; if anything had gone even slightly wrong with her here, who could have borne the responsibility? Not even the entire Tang household could have shouldered that.

Without even waiting for Qiqian’er and the others to take proper leave, Li Shi had a soft-carried sedan prepared at once, and everyone gathered around Qiqian’er, carrying her home along the way.

Once Qiqian’er had left, the woman who’d tried to curry favor, her face pale, spat on the ground and muttered: “Tsk, who hasn’t been pregnant before—such a fuss over nothing, I’ve had four already…”

Unfortunately, before she could finish muttering, two matrons rushed out from inside, wrapped her up, and hauled her back into the inner residence.

There was one thing Li Shi hadn’t dared mention—Tang Jiuyuan’s younger brother was a womanizer by nature, plucking whatever flower caught his fancy, and the Second Branch’s proper wife had long since given up all hope, spending her days chanting scripture. The concubine left managing that courtyard, though she’d borne several children, was constantly on guard against other women and kept fragrances on hand meant to induce miscarriage-inducing nausea in rivals.

Qiqian’er had no idea about any of this—her bout of morning sickness ended up getting that domineering Second Branch concubine sent by the Tang family to a small Buddhist chapel for half a year of “reform.” By the time she finally endured her way out, the Second Branch courtyard was full of pregnant bellies.

Grudges arose from just such inexplicable circumstances—that Second Branch’s young mistress harbored resentment toward Qiqian’er in her heart, and her own little brat later, relying on his age advantage at school, tried to bully An’er, only to be beaten up by a whole gang of An’er’s elder sisters…

Not long after Qiqian’er was carried home, Physician Cheng was invited over from next door—and he didn’t come alone, but together with Xuegu, whom they hadn’t seen in a long while.

By the time She Qingling returned from his stroll on Baiquan Mountain, he entered to find the Old Madam kneeling in her courtyard, bowing in every direction—so overcome with emotion it was hard to put into words; she who’d never dared cry before was now shedding old tears in utter sincerity.

Startled, She Qingling hurried over to ask: “Mother, what are you doing?”

The Old Madam, eyes full of tears, looked up: “Child! Hurry, hurry and kneel to bow—your star-lord grandson has arrived.”

“What are you talking about?” She Qingling didn’t understand at all, but was pulled down to kneel on the ground by the Old Madam.

The Old Madam patted him again, saying: “Hurry up and kowtow, why so much fuss? This is a good thing! Your grandson has come! A star lord! Do you even know what a star lord is…”

She Qingling was almost laughing from exasperation, saying: “What grandson, what star lord? I don’t have any… huh?”

He looked around in delighted surprise—being a man, he couldn’t show it too openly, but his heart was overjoyed nonetheless, and he silently followed the Old Madam, kneeling and bowing along with sincere devotion.

He truly didn’t care what surname the child would carry, or whose grandson he’d be considered—but a family ought to have what a family needs: a sharp-tongued old grandmother, a grandfather steeped in poetry and letters, a father standing tall in the world, a virtuous and loving mother, and a few mischievous children filling the courtyard with the bustle of everyday life.

He’d waited for this day for what felt like several lifetimes.

Inside the room, Qiqian’er had finally caught her breath and stopped retching.

In her previous life, she’d carried heavy worries and had been troubled from the moment she conceived, vomiting far worse than this time—so she didn’t think much of it this time either.

Physician Cheng finished writing out a pregnancy-stabilizing prescription and handed it to Zhang Wanru, saying: “Here, have this prepared and kept on hand. This medicine is best avoided unless truly necessary—and I’m not just flattering her, but Little Sister-in-law’s constitution is sturdier than most men’s. Look, this is just the standard prescription—she’s only just started experiencing morning sickness, and in a few days it’ll get quite a bit worse… that’ll be the time to have it prepared and taken, no rush yet.”

Zhang Wanru nodded, turning to instruct someone to go prepare the medicine and keep it ready.

Amid the bustle in the room, Xuegu leaned by the bedside, curiously reaching out to touch Qiqian’er’s belly.

Actually, these past days, Xuegu and Physician Cheng’s wife hadn’t been home—Physician Cheng had said they’d gone back to their hometown, without saying when they’d return.

Xuegu had already taken on the bearing of a young lady, her temperament fine, her looks pure and untainted, clean as someone made of snow.

Qiqian’er was fond of her, and let her touch her belly, saying with a smile: “An’er is still too small right now, you can’t feel him yet. Once he’s bigger, you can carry him around and get into mischief together.”

Xuegu, hearing this, was astonished: “But ‘An’er’ sounds like a boy’s name.”

Qiqian’er said with certainty: “He is a boy!”

Unexpectedly, Physician Cheng’s voice came from outside the window: “Boy or girl, they’re both our children all the same—the same love either way. What are you imagining?”

Hearing her father scold her, Qiqian’er didn’t dare say anything more, but Xuegu, seeming to be in rather good spirits, stroked her belly and said: “Mm, your father’s right! Boy or girl, both are your children… you should cherish him. Let me tell you, my Wanning is going to be a father too, and it’ll be this one’s elder sister—they’re close in age, so I can bring them to play together in the future.”

Qiqian’er looked at Physician Cheng in astonishment. Physician Cheng nodded, his smile somewhat forced: “Ah, seven months along already, it’s a girl.”

Zhang Wanru happened to walk in just then, and hearing this, laughed and said: “The feng shui here at Qinwei Lane is truly interesting—counting yours too, just look how many little flowers we’ve got blooming! Perfect, then—growing up together as companions, with so many sisters in this life, no one will ever feel lonely.”

This offhand remark of hers made Physician Cheng’s smile turn genuinely sincere.

He even nodded, saying: “That’s exactly right, exactly right! Living here really was the right choice—having companions, plenty of sisters…”

Anyone could see Physician Cheng had something on his mind. Qiqian’er raised an eyebrow at Xuegu, but Xuegu just shook her head seriously, her face showing no expression at all.

Physician Cheng gave a few instructions on things to watch for; with so many people from the Chen household coming to offer congratulations, he took Xuegu and left, quietly returning next door.

His household’s courtyard was just as large as the Chen family’s, yet while the Chen side was full of the bustle of everyday life, his side felt as cold and desolate as an ice cave.

Physician Cheng walked to the east room, set down his medicine box, and turned to say to his wife, who was doing needlework on the kang: “Dasheng’s wife is expecting.”

On the old kang, piled halfway across with baby items—wrapping cloths, little jackets, little skirts… along with over a dozen bolts of soft-colored floral silk.

Without looking up, his wife said: “That’s wonderful. She can play with our girl in the future. Dasheng and Qian’er are both good people… living here really is good. Say what you will about Qinwei Lane, but it’s just like one big family.”

Physician Cheng took a breath, picked up his cold tea and took a sip, saying: “Yes… you’ve arranged everything for her from age one all the way to her wedding day, so what about me? Su Baili, I only get to live this one lifetime—am I destined to just be deceived by you through all of it?”

His wife’s hands moved swiftly with her needle as if racing against time; hearing Physician Cheng’s complaint, she said without looking up: “In my next ten lifetimes, I’ll serve as your ox and horse…”

Before she could finish, Physician Cheng suddenly hurled the cup in his hand to the ground, hissing lowly: “I, I don’t want you as my ox and horse… Su Baili, I don’t want you as my ox and horse… Isn’t it enough just to, to live?”

His wife’s needle finally pricked her fingertip; she didn’t cry out in pain, only watching as the drops of blood slowly fell onto the little jacket…

Later, she turned that drop of blood into an intricately embroidered red plum blossom.

In Yandu, Chen Dasheng had been on night duty at a small courtyard in the Daliang palace when he was suddenly summoned before His Majesty, rewarded with three full carts of goods, and lavishly praised—only then was he told: you’re going to be a father, hurry home to see, and while you’re at it, offer my congratulations to my sworn brother for having an heir…

There was more meaning in His Majesty’s words than met the eye, but Chen Dasheng was already stunned witless, his mind full of Qiqian’er’s voice in all its varied tones… his name is An’er, his eyes look like yours, round, and he loves to smile too, it’s just a shame you never got to see him…

And now he was about to see him?

In that instant of father-son connection, Chen Dasheng clutched his chest and rushed out of the palace, but when he rode his horse to the eastern gate, he found he couldn’t get through.

At the eastern gate, dozens of prisoner carts stood waiting to enter the city. Chen Dasheng watched the commotion for a while, his mind finally settling, and spotting a familiar face, called out to Xie Wuhao: “Yo! Lord Xie, made a big case here?”

Xie Wuhao rode over, shaking his head with a helpless expression: “What big case—an old backlogged case! Does Marquis Chen remember the White Stone Mountain affair back then?”

At this, Chen Dasheng’s expression changed drastically at once, his eyes turning fierce as he glared at those prisoner carts, looking at the numb-faced people sitting inside: “Is this them?”

Xie Wuhao nodded: “Indeed. It truly tormented our Jiu Si Tang for a full three years, but we finally managed to dig them out of the deep mountains and old forests. Unfortunately… just small fry again… tsk! What a life I lead! Nothing but toil and trouble… never-ending… the main culprit isn’t even among them—what’s the point of arresting these people? Just a bunch of physicians with no strength to even truss a chicken…”