As winter arrived, the thatched-hut builders left Baiquan Mountain, only to be replaced by a group of winter hunters.
Originally, Quanhou Street was called Quanhou Manor, and its purpose back then was to serve as a resting place for Yandu’s nobles when they went hunting. As such, this back mountain was one of the best hunting grounds around.
As the nation slowly recovered and the new nobility gradually gained an air of refinement, they had begun amusing themselves once more.
One could never guess where these people had sprung from or what connections they had pulled, but they kept building large estates near the foot of the mountain, similar to those on Quanhou Street. Even though construction hadn’t stopped yet, the hunters had already arrived ahead of schedule.
These people always claimed some connection to a household on Quanhou Street. Whatever the case, whenever Zheng Aman and the others came, they stayed at Chang Lianfang’s house, but the expenses of entertaining them were charged to Chen Dasheng’s accounts.
The Chen family certainly wasn’t short of silver for hospitality these days, but it left Chang Lianfang feeling rather embarrassed.
And so, ever since the winter hunting season began, the residents of Quanhou Street were woken every day—before the roosters even crowed—by the thundering of horses’ hooves.
Their area was right next to the imperial hunting grounds, only about ten li away. His Majesty had taken his entourage there for leisure since early in the eleventh month, and so those who couldn’t get in themselves were all the more eager to seize any excuse to go hunting elsewhere.
Whenever an acquaintance asked where they were headed as they left the city, the answer would come out casually: “Oh, just going hunting over by Qingfeng and Baiquan.” No one would say exactly which hunting ground, letting others guess—which made for quite an impressive air.
Another burst of thundering hooves passed by. The Chen residence was right along that road, so there was no more sleeping to be had.
Qiqian’er hadn’t even opened her eyes yet when, still half-asleep, she reached out and pulled her son close, pressing both his hands over his ears to block the noise. By the time she was fully awake and opened her eyes, she found a certain someone who’d clearly been awake for a while already, eyes shining, the corner of his mouth curled into a thoroughly mischievous grin, staring right at her.
Well. This little lord had gotten up ages ago.
An’er, having finally gotten his mother to open her eyes, was thoroughly excited. His two chubby little legs kicked out, and he let out a milk-scented shout: “Ah——!”
His little quilt went flying.
Toddlers got excited twice a day—once before getting dressed, once after undressing. This was the “live fish” period.
After his shout, all four little limbs started moving at once, each drawing circles in a different direction—not a single pair of movements matched.
Qiqian’er pressed her lips together and smiled, ruffled her hair a few times, and sat up, saying, “Oh, you’re awake now?”
An’er clenched his little fists. “Ah!”
I’ve been up forever, you lazybones!
Hearing the commotion in the room, the maidservants lined up and carried in various implements to attend to their mistress’s rising.
The household kept growing, and the grand mansion that Qiqian’er had once thought spacious enough to live in for a lifetime seemed to grow smaller by the day.
Once it was about time, Xie Liuhao brought Gennu over from the end of the alley again. Whenever he was home, he always insisted on bringing his nephew back to sleep curled in his own arms.
Gennu’er whimpered the whole way, but the moment he saw Qiqian’er, he flung out his little hands and shouted “Mama!” excitedly, tears welling up even as he smiled. He was a good-natured child, always patient with others.
Once Qiqian’er took him into her arms, he wrapped his arms around her neck and clung tight, refusing to let go.
“Aren’t you going to the ministry today?” Qiqian’er asked, patting the child’s back and smiling at Xie Liuhao.
“Ah, not today. Something’s come up at the hunting grounds—I’ve been assigned to attend His Majesty in person. This little rascal has no conscience at all—the moment he rolled over he forgot all about me getting up to tend to him in the night,” Xie Liuhao answered with a smile.
Qiqian’er shot him a scolding glance. “Such a mouth on you—you say whatever comes to mind.”
Xie Liuhao laughed. “What? It’s fine, you’re my sister-in-law, not some outsider.” Then, glancing at his nephew, he added, “This kid’s a lucky one, really—much better fortune than the two of us ever had.”
Qiqian’er blinked in surprise. “Well, of course he is! Why do you say that?”
Xie Liuhao said, “Back in the clan, whenever a child lost his parents in service to the clan, my uncle and aunt would take the child in and even have him call them father and mother…” He stroked his nephew’s hair as he spoke. “Really it was just to satisfy appearances, to answer to the clan. My brother and I grew up thinking of ourselves as having parents. We were naive back then, didn’t have much sense—raised by others, we couldn’t tell good from bad, didn’t know what having real parents felt like, thought we had everything already. Now I understand. This little one cried half the night yesterday, calling for his mother and father the whole time…”
Qiqian’er held the child close and nodded, but didn’t pass judgment on anything.
The uncle and sister-in-law brought the child inside. An’er, having not seen his brother all night, immediately abandoned his own rice bowl the instant he laid eyes on him, scrambling over as though reuniting after a life-or-death separation.
Gennu, seeing his little brother, welled up with tears too, struggling up onto the kang and crawling over until the two brothers finally embraced.
They were so affectionate it was heart-melting—the kind of closeness that made you want to nibble on them out of sheer love.
The adults couldn’t help laughing at the sight. Just as they were enjoying the moment, someone outside announced that the master had returned.
Qiqian’er looked puzzled. “At this hour?”
In Qinwei Lane, a line of more than a dozen carts was being unloaded. Seeing Xie Liuhao come out, Chen Dasheng grinned at him. “Hey! You’re a lucky one—perfect timing too. There are six cartloads here for you. Hurry and have them carried to your rooms.”
Xie Liuhao was stunned. Staring at the row of large carts, he walked over to Chen Dasheng and asked, “Brother? What is this? Where did it come from? You don’t need to worry about me—I make enough to live on, no need to spend extra.”
Chen Dasheng looked him up and down, glanced around to make sure no one else was near, and then said, feigning nonchalance, “It’s not me spending anything. This—consider it something your brother left for you. It’s rightfully yours.”
Xie Liuhao’s expression shifted, and he asked, utterly stunned, “What did you say? My—my brother?”
Chen Dasheng, still not meeting his eyes, said, “Ah, your brother! Back when the group of brothers went out together, we saw how good the foreign trade was over by the Tan River, and got some ideas. You wouldn’t believe it—silk, tea, porcelain, all that, once you get it over there, sells for twenty or thirty times the price. Heh, well, that stirred up a bit of greed, so we pooled together a little seed capital. Your brother put in more of the capital back then, so half of this should belong to your family.”
Xie Liuhao wasn’t a fool. He stared at Chen Dasheng with open disbelief, then looked back at the carts.
It wasn’t that he suspected his brother might still be alive—rather, he thought this sworn brother of his must have noticed he wasn’t living well and was quietly helping him out on the side.
Chen Dasheng had already thought through what to say. He stepped back and leaned against the wall. “Truly, I’m not lying to you. His Majesty knows about this.”
Xie Liuhao’s eyes went wide immediately. It was only then he remembered—trade beyond Zuoliang Pass wasn’t permitted.
So his sworn brother’s business dealings were likely illegal.
Chen Dasheng nodded at him. “It’s true. Even if you asked at the imperial court, that’s exactly what they’d tell you. Those contacts we scouted out back then—the big merchant connecting everything is Ping Shen, and our scouts operate under the guise of traveling merchants in several old fortress towns among the Gaofeixi’ao and Matini people.”
“A business this large, supporting that many people, with expenses this high—His Majesty doesn’t want others to know, so he has to sustain the operation himself. Making money is just incidental to it—how much do we even earn from it? Just take it. This is the foundation your brother left behind for you and Gennu. It’s not some act of charity out of pity—what’s rightfully yours, you should accept without hesitation. No one needs your thanks.”
Xie Liuhao’s mind reeled with shock; he didn’t know what to say, feeling somewhat dizzy. In truth he had always held back his grief, refusing to dwell on it, keeping his eyes shut and simply believing his brother was still alive.
Who would have thought, after all this time, just as his heart had finally found some peace, his brother would resurface to unsettle him again.
And so he slid down and sat slowly against the wall on the winter ground, still not crying, just staring blankly.
Seeing him not moving, Chen Dasheng didn’t disturb him. Sometimes, a man’s grief was something no one else could help with—it depended entirely on whether he was willing to come out of it himself.
He stood and directed the servants to carry the spices, blankets, various furs, gold and silver wares, and Gaofeixi’ao amber and beeswax brought over in the carts to Xie Liuhao’s courtyard.
Who would have guessed that in such a short time, Xie Wuhao had already put down roots in Gaofeixi’ao, becoming a brother-in-law recognized by the Gaofeixi’ao king himself—the man even had a fief now, which made it all the more impossible for him to ever return. Daliang, for its part, needed to protect this connection all the more carefully.
His Majesty could no longer address Xie Wuhao with the tone of a superior giving orders; he even privately bestowed no small amount of Daliang goods to maintain that powerful Gaofeixi’ao official’s homesickness for his homeland.
And so, though Xie Wuhao served Daliang, he likely truly could never return.
This time, he had sent His Majesty many fine gifts, among them top-grade warhorses meant to serve as breeding stock for Daliang’s military horses.
Besides these, all their old friends had received gifts too, but in the end it amounted to quantity over refinement—after all, it was tens of thousands of li away. The truly valuable items had gone to his son and younger brother.
When he inspected the carts with Minister Sun of the Ministry of War, Minister Sun remarked that just from that one crate of amber and beeswax, taking out a fist-sized piece would be enough to trade for a large mansion in Yandu.
Yet in the kingdom of Gaofeixi’ao, such things were everywhere—people could pick it up along the coast, or find veins of it in the mountains, nothing rare at all. In fact, people over there simply ground it into powder and took it as medicine. Though Daliang also used amber and beeswax medicinally, to calm the spirit and brighten the eyes, who would dare use it so casually? That was amber a thousand years old, beeswax ten thousand years old.
And there it was, an entire large crate of it.
Seeing that Xie Liuhao wasn’t speaking, Chen Dasheng let him sit quietly for a while before going over to pat his shoulder. “Sort through the things yourself later. Doesn’t your house have a cellar? Get your sister-in-law to help sort the furs, and find somewhere dry to store what needs storing. Remember this: you’re just a minor official in Yandu, so keep a low profile—we’ll live quietly. Going forward, there will always be good things set aside for you. We’ll take it slow, understand?”
Xie Liuhao nodded, though in his heart he didn’t much care for these things bought with his brother’s life. Instead he said, “Brother, I need a favor. It’s long been said I could go to the Ministry of Justice with Zhou Wujiu, but Jiu Si Tang won’t release me. I really don’t want to stay there anymore.”
Chen Dasheng asked, “Why, is Meng Wulao not treating you well?”
Xie Liuhao shook his head. “It’s not that he treats me badly—I get whatever everyone else gets, and the master’s always polite whenever he sees me. It’s just that… there’s nothing for me to do. Honestly, I think even the yellow dog in the Jiu Si Tang courtyard is busier than I am.”
Chen Dasheng laughed and swatted him. “Don’t talk nonsense.”
“It’s true, brother, I’m not satisfied. Look how young I still am—other people are practically dying to be that busy, while my brother Zhou and I just spend our days pouring tea, watching everyone else work. It feels like we’re not even in the same world as them anymore.”
Chen Dasheng knew Meng Dingchen’s temperament well—it wasn’t that the man lacked ability. If anything, he had ability and great ambition to spare.
But beyond that, the man was petty, wanting to control everything, hold onto everything, yet sorely lacking in the give-and-take of human relationships—no surprise, since he’d been raised a monk from childhood. That was a flaw in his upbringing that could never be fully mended.
It wasn’t just officialdom and social dealings he struggled with—since returning to secular life, Meng Dingchen’s household had prospered, and his inner residence had grown so lively it now surpassed even Marquis Chang’s household as the liveliest in Yandu.
That he now refused to let Xie Liuhao leave, Chen Dasheng could understand—after all, this was Xie Wuhao’s younger brother. If Jiu Si Tang couldn’t even take proper care of him, Meng Dingchen would lose face on every front.
Yet the very fact that Xie Liuhao had moved to Qinwei Lane meant Meng Dingchen could no longer trust him fully, and had naturally excluded him from his inner circle. Just this winter hunt, he had only brought his own men to build familiarity before the emperor.
If His Majesty hadn’t noticed the tribute gifts, he wouldn’t have asked why Xie Liuhao wasn’t present—which had put Meng Dingchen in quite an awkward position, leading to this personal summons from the emperor.
But how Xie Liuhao could leave Jiu Si Tang gracefully, to everyone’s satisfaction, would need careful thought.
Chen Dasheng thought it over for a while before finally patting Xie Liuhao’s shoulder. “Stay at the hunting grounds for a few days first. There’s no rush with your matter—we’ll take our time next year.”
Xie Liuhao nodded and stood, leaving reluctantly. After a few steps, he turned back anxiously. “Brother, hurry up on this, alright?”
Chen Dasheng chuckled softly. “Yes, yes, I know.”
Having seen Xie Liuhao off, Chen Dasheng directed the servants to carry two cartloads of furs, some spices, and the foreign wool blankets into the courtyard.
Being foreign goods, once these items were laid out, the household grew lively. Even She Qingling, who rarely went outdoors, sat smiling on the kang, looking at the tiger and bear pelts covering it, chuckling, “Even the animals in that foreign land seem bigger. Our black bears here don’t seem to measure up to theirs.”
Chen Dasheng laughed. “Father, that’s because these are the biggest pelts they sent us—it’s not that our bears are smaller than theirs.”
She Qingling didn’t argue the point, just kept running his hand over the fine bearskin in front of him, sighing, “His Majesty’s inner treasury has some large pelts too, but none as fine as these.”
The old madam, however, didn’t care for it, murmuring a Buddhist chant. “Don’t put these things on display—killing living creatures for this isn’t a good thing. I won’t look at them.”
She sat up as she spoke, and had someone help her to the back courtyard. Qian’er mentioned that there was plenty of incense material and that tomorrow she’d pick the good ones to make into incense sticks to offer to the Bodhisattva.
Qiqian’er watched the old madam’s figure disappear before smiling and selecting a few good bearskins, examining them. “These are quite nice. A’Nai certainly won’t want them, so I’ll make Father a bear-fur cushion, and a large cloak too. I see there’s plenty of stiff hide, so I’ll have two pairs of snow boots made as well—the style you mentioned, the Gaofeixi’ao boot style. For the cloak, I’ll use the newly dyed brocade, and embroider a great crane on it…”
“No need for that—as long as it’s warm, that’s enough,” She Qingling interjected, his ears reddening slightly.
He loved beauty most and favored bright, striking things, but with his high standing in both the household and the court, reality had forced him into wearing sober, dark-colored robes every day.
Hearing this, Qiqian’er pressed her lips together and smiled. Just as she was about to order the items sorted out, she heard Chen Dasheng calling out at the door: “Go check on A’Nai in the back, quickly. Let Doukou and the others play as they like, but there’s a small box marked ‘kumu’—that’s for driving out intestinal worms in children, it’s especially hard to come by, doesn’t even grow near the Tan River…”
Before he even finished speaking, Qiqian’er had already vanished into the back rooms.
Watching his wife leave, Chen Dasheng sighed and gathered up the pile of furs on the kang, then plucked his two sons off the tiger pelt they’d climbed onto.
Once everything was tidied up, he sat at the edge of the kang and said to his father, “I think what Xie Wuhao sent this time isn’t purely a matter of tribute, is it?”
She Qingling sheathed a small silver knife inlaid with gemstones and smiled indifferently. “Naturally. Once a person is placed under someone else’s control and authority, their heart is bound to change. It’s fine for now, but if that Gaofeixi’ao woman bears him a child, we’ll need to adjust our stance further.”
A cold glint flashed across Chen Dasheng’s eyes, and his voice turned somewhat chilly. “He wouldn’t dare.”
She Qingling only laughed. “What’s daring got to do with it? In your eyes, must you still think of him as a simple man of Daliang? How narrow-minded! A person must adjust his position as circumstances change—that’s how one accomplishes greater things.
Do you think the Xie Wuhao of today is still the Xie Wuhao of before? The world he sees now is already broader than yours. At the very least, you don’t even know what lies beyond those mountains of Gaofeixi’ao.
Yet through things like kumu, asafoetida, carob, curry leaves, and tamarind, he’s telling you—his world is that vast now! They say tamarind specifically treats sailors’ illness and has remarkable effects against malaria. What he sent was the seeds, not dried goods—that is his goodwill and loyalty, Dasheng. And right now, you’re falling short of him.”
Chen Dasheng was stunned into silence, sitting there without moving.
Another burst of urgent hoofbeats passed by, along with the laughter of young hunters drifting over the courtyard wall. With the household having received these new goods, the servants shared in their masters’ joy, chattering excitedly among themselves. As those voices drifted into the room, Chen Dasheng suddenly sighed and shook his head with a wry laugh. “Heh! I nearly turned into Meng Dingchen there.”
He scratched his head and stood, walking out into the courtyard, where his father was already standing with hands clasped behind his back at the base of the wall, having listened for a long while, waiting.
Seeing him come out, his father asked, “Figured it out?”
Chen Dasheng laughed, somewhat embarrassed. “Mm, I understand now. First I’ll handle the scouting matters well in hand—I’m not a clever man, I just seek His Majesty’s trust.”
The corner of She Qingling’s mouth curled up. He turned and led the way out with his hands clasped behind his back, and Chen Dasheng followed with a sheepish grin, asking as they walked, “Father, where are we going?”
She Qingling said, “The hunting grounds.”
Chen Dasheng was puzzled. “It’s freezing out, and with your health, what business do you have up front? You can’t even manage to kill a chicken—hey, why are you hitting me for that?”
She Qingling withdrew his hand and said sternly, “Seems you haven’t been beaten enough. Where did you pick up such a smart mouth?”
Grumbling, he climbed into the carriage, and once it was moving, he said to Chen Dasheng, “In the first year of the reign, due to the chaos of war, some temples’ Buddhist ritual objects were taken into His Majesty’s inner treasury. Now, all the larger temples across Daliang want them back for worship.”
Chen Dasheng blinked, glancing out the carriage window and then at his father. “And your meaning is?”
She Qingling scoffed coldly. “I mean nothing in particular. North Huguo Temple has always had close ties with the imperial family and handles matters properly. South Huguo Temple, on the other hand, is far from the emperor’s reach, isn’t it?”
Ah. My father is scheming against someone again, it seems.
Chen Dasheng rubbed his nose and nodded. “Yes, you’re right. They’re both worshipping the same Bodhisattva—why distinguish north from south?”
She Qingling finally looked satisfied, holding his hand warmer and closing his eyes with a faint smile. “Our young Sixth Lord loves stories of immortals and deities. He’s around the same age as the Fourth Bitter Chan Master—making a good friend of him wouldn’t be a bad thing, don’t you think?”
Chen Dasheng’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at his father, hesitant. “Sixth Lord is just a child—what exactly do you mean?”
She Qingling opened his eyes and looked at him coldly. “What do I mean? What kind of man do you take your father for? Someone who wields a hidden blade behind others’ backs?”
Chen Dasheng coughed awkwardly and turned to look out the window.
Prince She, who had always considered himself the most upright and aboveboard of men, lifted his foot and kicked him, then said, “You don’t understand a thing! Children who love the Dharma always win people’s favor. Besides, our Sixth Lord has long fallen out of certain people’s good graces—if he simply plays with a little monk-child, what could anyone possibly think of it? Let him go. It’s merely a gesture of goodwill.”
Chen Dasheng nodded involuntarily.
Seeing that he understood, She Qingling continued, “If they want something, let them earn it through virtue and honest means—I’d have nothing to say. But they went and pulled a blade over our old madam’s head, using such underhanded methods. This realm… does not need such people sitting upon its throne. A ruler may lack ability, may even be foolish, but he must possess some measure of benevolence and righteousness to be fit for the role. Daliang’s next three generations of emperors needn’t be especially clever, but they must have an innate compassion for the people—that is what the nation truly needs.”
Chen Dasheng grumbled inwardly. So all this fuss, in the end, was because our own old madam was frightened and had several nightmares because of it—an old woman that age forced to kneel reciting sutras for an hour each day to release trapped spirits from suffering, exhausting herself terribly. He must have felt for her.
Chen Dasheng pouted helplessly. “Well then, young Sixth Lord isn’t just one or two measures of benevolence—he’s ten measures full.”
She Qingling laughed softly. “That child is a good one, blessed with fortune. But don’t get too attached to him—remember, his father is in the prime of his life, and this year has gone well for him. Our senior consort seems to have had a change of heart and wants to raise one at her side too. So in the coming months, seven or eight more will likely be conceived. This lord of ours will never lack for sons.”
Chen Dasheng had no interest in hearing about the affairs of the imperial harem. He nodded to show he understood, then circled back to ask about Huguo Temple.
“So your meaning is, from now on we should extend goodwill in that direction?”
She Qingling nodded. “Foolish child, it’s always been about the greater trend—one must follow what’s needed. Those conspiracies are nothing but fabrications of scholars and men of letters. In matters of politics, things have always split apart and come together again—when has there ever been a generations-long feud? And now, His Majesty’s policy of nurturing the people has already shown results. Extending goodwill is exactly what His Majesty has long intended—he just needs a step to make it happen gracefully. We’ll offer a bit of thoughtfulness, a gentle reminder, and give His Majesty that step. That little Fourth Bitter one has plenty of clever people around him. If, one day, Gu Hongyun comes to the capital—hmph! What business would it be of that Meng the Fifth’s then?”
The carriage wheel jolted over a small stone, jostling father and son slightly. Chen Dasheng lifted the carriage curtain and saw the hunting grounds weren’t far off, and smiled, pointing outside.
She Qingling gazed at the distant dragon banners and flags fluttering in the cold wind, then nodded. “Remember this, my son: walk the righteous path throughout your life, and you’ll never fail. As for those underhanded schemes—sooner or later, all things resurface, turned up from beneath the soil by the plow. If the road isn’t level, it’s up to people like us to level it. If something isn’t done in the light, it must be rooted out from this land of Daliang—otherwise, all those who died for it would have died for nothing!”
Chen Dasheng jumped down from the carriage and helped his father down as well. He unfolded his father’s dark cloak and wrapped it snugly around his father’s thin frame, saying by his ear, “Rest assured, Father. I understand. I will never forget it.”