On the day the wives and aunties of Imperial Guard Lane went to the sewing circle, Cui Erdian had gone to his night watch with a trident-shaped wound on his neck, and when he returned to the yamen he was mocked by his fellow brothers — mocked for not knowing how to dodge, for getting injured right on the face, which was truly an embarrassment to Lao Dao’s name.

In the old days, getting beaten at home wasn’t unusual either. These days, getting scolded by one’s wife was considered a light matter. Truly — in the last years of the previous dynasty so many had died. When disaster and calamity struck, the elderly went first, then the women, and finally the children.

Now women were precious, and there were plenty of men who couldn’t get a wife. In this Great Liang dynasty, women had become pampered. The more peaceful the recent years grew, the wider the gap between men and women became, and men of marrying age grew ever more anxious.

Though wealthy families never lacked for wives, among the common people, if a man managed to marry a satisfactory one, he naturally treated her with the utmost care.

So it was that nowadays, what man didn’t secretly take a beating once or twice a month? If his wife wasn’t affectionate with him, she certainly wasn’t shy about beating him either.

Take Tong Jintai, for example — every time his wife “topped up his belly” under the covers, it always came with a few added injuries. But he said his wife was actually quite sensible about it — she never let it show on his face in public, which was far better than what happened in the Cui family.

Erdian’s little wife always scratched at his face, exactly like her aunt’s fierce temperament.

To comfort Cui Erdian, everyone pooled money to treat him to a quarter of steamed lamb — a quarter of a whole sheep — paired with fine wheat pastries. The seven of them sat together and ate their fill, and in the end there was actually quite a bit left over.

Chen Dasheng looked at the remaining lamb bones in disbelief — the leg bones were split open, covered in meat still clinging to the bone, and yet no one wanted it anymore?

Just a few years ago, Guan Si’er had loved this kind of bone more than anything. Whenever he got hold of one with some marrow in it, he could suck on it for two days, chewing the bone itself to bits in the end.

Thinking of this, Chen Dasheng turned to look at his youngest brother. The moment Guan Si’er caught his gaze, he immediately jumped up, pointing at the basin with some irritation and said: “Last time I was the one who cleaned the bottom of the pot! Why is it me again? You older ones are getting more and more unreasonable! Brother, from now on can we stop measuring meals by how much we used to eat?

Things aren’t like before now. Not to mention we’re both stuffed full morning and night anyway — in between my mother’s side also sent a box of milk cakes, and sister-in-law sent a box of happiness candies too. Look at them — who even wants those anymore? Everyone’s sick of eating at home! And in the end who eats it? Me! I’m the one who’s been digesting all your extra rations from work — why am I the one getting picked on now?”

Having said his piece, Guan Si’er reached into the small pouch at his waist, counted out a hundred coins, slapped them on the table, and ran off holding onto his waist blade.

No matter how much money any of these men actually had, none of them ever carried more than five hundred coins on their person — partly because their belt pouches couldn’t hold more, and partly because after so long being poor, even with nothing lacking at home now, they simply hadn’t learned to spend.

Five hundred coins was usually more than enough even when the brothers pooled together for a meal — there was always some left over, month after month.

Today’s meal, besides comforting Cui Erdian, had another purpose too.

That was because yesterday, His Majesty had issued an edict from the hunting grounds promoting the brothers once again. Chen Dasheng was promoted to Director of the Ministry of Justice, rank five, upper grade; the rest of the brothers were all promoted to Vice Director, rank five, lower grade.

In truth, this reward was rather modest. For the great achievement of assassinating Prince Gongji Tan, being promoted only three ranks was a stingy reward — but that particular achievement could not be mentioned, and His Majesty planned to promote them gradually. Gradual was for the best, after all — it wouldn’t draw unwanted attention, and less attention meant fewer complications.

Outsiders, not understanding the full picture, still took this promotion as proof of how deeply favored these men were by the Emperor. Hadn’t they seen Zheng Aman, Chang Lianfang, and the other adopted sons? Even they hadn’t gotten this good a deal — it was rare for them to get even one rank’s promotion by year’s end.

And so, all sorts of flattery, all sorts of “friends,” all sorts of banquet invitations began appearing around these men. But no matter how much fuss was made, Lao Dao and the others still ended up pooling their money to eat at cheap, humble restaurants.

The truly difficult path in officialdom was better represented by Chen Sinu. This man had been a charcoal burner since the founding of the dynasty, and to this day, he was still a charcoal burner. His performance reviews were mediocre year after year — if not for having a powerful nephew, he wouldn’t even be allowed to burn charcoal anymore.

And it wasn’t just Chen Sinu — in this world, there were far more people whose lives didn’t go as they wished than otherwise.

Guan Si’er didn’t return to the yamen that day. Instead, he went to the Gong family mansion on Scholar Street.

When he got home, he’d meant to first sit for a while in his parents’ quarters, but the servants told him that many relatives had come from the old hometown, and the master and mistress were both busy entertaining them.

If Guan Si’er had been an ordinary third young master of this household, then with relatives visiting from the old hometown, Mr. Gong would surely have told the servants without any courtesy to hurry and fetch that ignorant little wretch to come pay respects to his elders.

Once Guan Si’er arrived trembling with nerves, and paid his respects to each elder and guest in turn, if his luck was good, he might even collect a round of meeting gifts.

If his luck was bad, he might be quizzed and tested on his studies, and only after the guests left would he receive a proper scolding or beating — that being the normal path of growth for a young master.

But Guan Si’er wasn’t on the normal path — he was on the unconventional one. He already held rank five, lower grade, while his father, Gong Zhiyi, had only just been formally appointed to an official post — merely a rank six Erudite at the Imperial Academy.

As for the matter of a son outranking his father, everyone understood the Gong family’s situation was rather complicated, and it wasn’t something to dwell on.

There was no reason to strip Guan Si’er of his post just because his father’s rank was low.

Gong Zhiyi’s rank was low, and his two eldest sons were no better off — well, they held the unranked position of Instructor at the Imperial Academy, at least earning two strings of cash a month each to bring home, though that wasn’t even enough to buy their wives a gilded hairpin.

There was no way around it — at the Imperial Academy, promotion depended on the rank of the chief official, and the highest that office could reach was rank four, lower grade. Yet Gong Zhiyi was an outsider to the court; the Emperor could hardly hand the highest post in the most important office for education to anyone outside the Shao Shang faction.

Fortunately, the entire Gong family, from top to bottom, had something of the bookish simpleton in them. They never thought too deeply about such matters, living their lives innocently and endearingly.

At the Gong residence, Guan Si’er had his own private two-courtyard residence. His father came from a merchant background, so the family had money, and his mother spent freely — just the servants attending to him alone numbered nearly twenty.

If Scholar Street was known for its love of learning, the Gong family was first. If it was known for extravagance, the Gong family was first there too.

But Guan Si’er had been born with what might be called cheap bones — he simply didn’t adjust well to the life of a wealthy young master. Back in Imperial Guard Lane, he’d made do with at most one steward and two young servant boys, sharing three to five odd-job servants with his fifth brother.

But here, even his chamber pot had someone specially assigned to tend it. Every time he lifted the lid, he found himself unable to relieve himself comfortably — because the pot wasn’t foul-smelling at all, but fragrant instead.

Every time he used it once, they’d change out the pot entirely. Guan Si’er, being talkative, once asked about the cost — the bottom layer of wood ash alone cost fifteen coins per layer, and there were three layers. The top layer, soaked in fragrant herbs, cost thirty coins. And as for the chamber pot itself, made of old sandalwood, he had no idea how much it cost — it was one of the dowry items his mother had brought from her family home years ago, something you couldn’t even buy anywhere now.

At first he couldn’t bear such extravagance, but the moment he said he didn’t want it, his mother, Madam Li, cried like a river overflowing its banks — and when she ran out of tears, she had to borrow more from her two daughters-in-law’s tributary streams, because these women could always cry together in a chorus.

Beyond that, even more heart-wrenching was that in half a year his mother had composed over thirty poems: “Longing for My Son,” “Yearning Tenderly for My Son,” “Heart-Breaking,” “Ode to a Severed Soul.” Just hearing these titles, he felt he ought to have died long ago — otherwise how could he possibly live up to such poetry?

Every time he came home, Madam Li would grab hold of Guan Si’er and, holding her poems full of motherly devotion, recite them to him aloud while weeping.

Guan Si’er simply found life terribly bitter — he couldn’t understand a single verse!

And so, he grew less and less willing to go home.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love them — it was that he felt out of place everywhere here. He’d only had a few years of schooling, after all.

Take the matter of getting beaten, for instance — every household had its own hardships. Misfortune always seemed to fall on those with clumsy tongues, on those who weren’t the smooth-talking type. But a wife wanted sweet words in her ear, and so, damn it, his backside had to suffer the consequences.

By the time he got home, Guan Si’er found more than twenty extravagantly decorated carriages parked at the gates of the Gong mansion. Servants he only vaguely recognized bustled back and forth, carrying box after box of luggage into the house.

The Gong family’s relatives were quite generous — every time they visited, they brought lavish gifts.

Merchant families — they simply had money! And having finally produced a scholar in the family, the whole clan doted on him.

The Gong residence had originally been built by the previous dynasty for a great scholar to lecture in — a garden courtyard laid out like a chessboard, with flowing water running through it. And with generations of learned men living there since, adding a well one day, arranging a flower bed the next, the estate had grown especially refined and elegant — only the road wasn’t as wide as those in the homes of the powerful and wealthy. With the busy comings and goings of servants carrying boxes, Guan Si’er could only walk hugging the edge.

Guan Si’er was self-aware enough to quietly step aside and make his way to his own small courtyard. As the head scout of his unit, he wanted to walk quietly, so that no one would notice him.

Once back in his room, he washed up briefly, then sat with his hair loose in his little study, picked up his brush, and began writing a letter to his future wife, Ge Sansu.

His study was piled with fine books and scrolls, but in all the time he’d lived here, he hadn’t read a single one — not that he didn’t want to, it was just that the profound ones were beyond his understanding, damn it.

Guan Si’er wrote with deep feeling: My wife, another year has passed. I think of you dearly — I wonder if you think of me too? I’m still doing well as always, eating well, sleeping soundly, gaining weight every day… When I’m on duty for the night watch I stay at my new parents’ home; when I have leave, I go back to our home on Imperial Guard Lane.

I get along well enough with my family here — it’s just that with the new arrivals, with my parents, my brothers and sisters-in-law, my nephews and nieces, the affection hasn’t quite built up yet. There’s a lot of formality between us, and there’s no point complaining about it. My mother sometimes looks at me and seems to feel for how tired I am — actually, I’m tired too…

I’ve been promoted again — appointed Vice Director of the Ministry of War, rank five, lower grade, with a monthly salary of sixteen strings of cash and an annual stipend of one hundred seventy-five piculs of grain. With the various supplementary allowances the same as before, that comes to about four to five hundred piculs a year. Truly, supporting you would be no problem at all — just wait, good days are coming!

You wouldn’t believe it, but my father doesn’t even earn as much as I do now — he only makes twelve strings of cash a month…

Just as he was writing with great enthusiasm, he heard rustling footsteps outside the door. Guan Si’er frowned as someone came in laughing without so much as asking permission.

The one who entered was Mama Ma, the steward-nanny at Madam Li’s side. Having once been the wet nurse for the eldest son, Gong Xian, and having grown up together with Madam Li since childhood, she held quite a bit of standing in the Gong household.

The old woman greeted Guan Si’er with a beaming smile, but seeing him writing so intently, she suddenly exclaimed in surprise: “Oh my, Third Master! We have so many guests at home — why are you hiding away in here idling? This won’t do at all! What time is it, and why are you dressed like this? Why is your hair down like that? The girls downstairs clearly aren’t serving you properly… it must be those little wretches getting lazy, I’ll have to give them a proper talking-to later…”

She walked over and touched the cup of tea in front of Guan Si’er, about to scold the little maid for serving the young master cold tea, when she looked up and saw the Third Master watching her with a cold smile on his face.

At that, the old woman felt both embarrassed and afraid. She wasn’t a bad person, really — she’d simply been sold into the Li family as a girl, grown up alongside the young mistress, followed her as part of her dowry into the Gong household, and eventually married Gong Xin, the household steward. She had served three generations of the Gong family by now.

She genuinely felt closer to this family than Guan Si’er did, and carried herself with more confidence in this house than even he did.

Guan Si’er looked at the old woman coldly. Last time, out at a tea gathering with his mother, he’d overheard this same woman telling A’Mao: “Miss shouldn’t be as careless today as she is at home — where we’re going is one of the noble households in the capital, and if you’re the least bit rude, it’ll be Master and Madam’s faces that get lost…”

A’Mao was lively and innocent — there was no need to lecture her own younger cousin like that in front of others, just to show off her own standing in the Gong family.

Perhaps Mama Ma didn’t consciously mean it that way, but she did it out of habit regardless.

Guan Si’er had been an official for several years now, and had developed a commanding presence he himself wasn’t even fully aware of. Combined with the fact that, young as he was, he’d survived on actual battlefields, one sharp glare from him carried real authority — enough that Mama Ma’s legs went weak on the spot, and her hands folded respectfully in front of her chest.

She rarely came to the back courtyards. Every time she saw the Third Master by his mother’s side, he always wore a gentle, easygoing smile, doing whatever his mother told him without the slightest resistance.

Who would have guessed he was like this in private?

Mama Ma retreated awkwardly two steps, then bowed to Guan Si’er again and said: “Third Master, this old servant — this old servant was simply too busy and lost her head.”

That was more like it — finally showing some proper manners.

Not to mention, if a servant like this had been at Qiqian’s side, she’d have been dismissed long ago. If she’d been at the Prince’s mansion, she’d have been sent to a manor to do hard labor and clear her head. Not to mention that Guan Si’er, hiding away in the palace guard, came from the most hierarchical, most rule-bound place in the realm.

The Gong family were scholars — the masters all had gentle, easygoing temperaments, which meant the household below them had grown rather lax.

Seeing the old woman had settled down, Guan Si’er lowered his head and continued writing: Su’er, I know you’re enduring hardship in your training. I don’t dare send you heavy winter clothes, so I’ve only sent everyday cotton garments, along with a few kinds of pickled vegetables from our home on Imperial Guard Lane… Hold on a little longer and wait for me — soon we’ll be reunited…

He really wasn’t young anymore, and how could he not miss his wife? Everyone else who went home got to sit together intimately, laughing and talking — only he sat alone in his shadow.

As for his unmarried fifth brother, Hu Yougui — that man had a beauty who climbed walls and folded his bedding for him, who practically wanted to carry him up onto his horse herself. Truly, compared to that, Guan Si’er was the more pitiable one.

Finally finishing pouring out his heart, the letter had grown into a thick stack — quite the magnum opus.

Guan Si’er spread the sheets of paper out and, with great affection, read through them once more, savoring the words again and again, feeling that his literary talent had truly soared and fully expressed his innermost feelings.

He blew the ink dry, sealed the letter, and stamped it with wax, then called out toward the door for someone to enter.

The door opened at once, and the personal guard who accompanied Guan Si’er stepped inside — a man so tall, yet who walked without making a sound.

The guard approached the desk, and as he raised his hand to bow, his hand brushed against his waist blade — just a faint clink — and Mama Ma’s hair stood on end.

Handing the bulging letter to the guard, Guan Si’er instructed him: “Take this letter to my brother-in-law Cui at the Ministry of War, and have him send it through the ministry’s relay post — no need to rush it through as an urgent dispatch like last time. There’s really no need for that.”

The guard smiled, took the letter, and left like a gust of wind.

Once he’d gone, Guan Si’er clasped his hands behind his back and walked toward his bedchamber. Mama Ma didn’t dare speak, keeping five paces behind him with her back bent.

She’d been in this household so long that even the head mistress, Madam Ren, would sometimes consult her old experience. Who would have thought this Third Master had this side to him?

At the entrance to the bedchamber, the two senior maids Madam Li had assigned to Guan Si’er — one named Hongcao, the other named Hongfang — had been waiting there for some time.

Hongcao, being lively, greeted him and asked: “Has the Third Master finished his studies?”

Guan Si’er coughed once and nodded, entering through the curtain they lifted for him, and sat in the chair at the center of the room. He took the teacup Hongfang brought him and drank a sip, then frowned and asked Mama Ma: “What did you just say?”

Mama Ma’s lips trembled. Remembering something, she carefully looked up and answered: “Re—reporting to Third Master, it’s that relatives from the old hometown have arrived. The young mistress said…”

“Which young mistress said?” Guan Si’er cut in quickly.

Mama Ma blurted out without thinking: “The Second Young Mistress.”

The moment she said it, her face went pale. She regretted it instantly — regretted that, hearing the lively commotion on the other side, the Second Young Mistress had remarked that it would be even better if the Third Brother came to join the fun too.

Hearing that, she’d volunteered herself to go fetch the Third Master — after all, he’d just been promoted again, and if he went to the front, it would surely bring honor to Madam and make the whole Gong family envious.

And so she had come.

Hearing this, Guan Si’er smiled coldly and waved Hongfang over to bind up his hair.

The room fell silent. After a good while, Guan Si’er finally spoke: “Last month when I entered the courtyard I saw little Hongxia crying. I asked her a few questions — her mother was ill and there was no money to send out for medicine, and she was just about to come find you, Mama, when you showed up.”

Mama Ma had no idea who this Hongxia was, and looked at the Third Master somewhat blankly.

That little Hongxia was the one who tended the chamber pot. Every time Guan Si’er saw that girl’s small face, he felt a pang of guilt and unease.

As for household servant matters, this much was enough to raise the point. Besides, it involved Mama Ma’s own husband, Gong Xin, who served as head steward — the one responsible for paying the servants’ monthly wages. Why was it that this particular courtyard’s allotment always came up short? Was it because the master here was rarely home, and since they had it easy, half their monthly wages got docked?

Guan Si’er was well aware that his mother and sisters-in-law surely knew nothing of this. As for Mama Ma’s husband — well, that was a rather complicated matter. He wasn’t a bad person exactly, just far too frugal — the sort who was always trying to save money for the household like a stingy old rooster, and in doing so, stirred up no small amount of trouble.

As Guan Si’er went into the inner room to change clothes, Hongcao pulled Mama Ma aside and said with a smile: “Don’t take it to heart, Mama. Our Master has his own residence outside and doesn’t come here often. Sometimes when he does come back, he has to deal with a whole month’s worth of matters at once — it’s not that he’s specifically angry at you.”

Mama Ma smiled and said: “I don’t blame him, how could I dare! Oh dear, what’s gotten into me today, everything I do seems to be wrong.”

She grabbed Hongcao’s hand and pleaded: “Good girl, I watched all of you grow up from little ones. I just feel like these past while, our Third Master smiles at everyone else, but why does he look so cold whenever he sees me? Please, tell me where I’ve gone wrong, and I’ll correct it at once.”

Such was the Gong household — like any other wealthy family, it had its own factions, its own conflicts.

Guan Si’er, who walked among places where orders were strictly obeyed — the imperial guard, the scout’s office — found this household full of petty human entanglements uncomfortable no matter how he tried to settle into it.

Yet having suffered hardship outside from a young age, whenever he came home his parents treated him with such careful deference, afraid he might feel uncomfortable or displeased, which put both sides in an awkward position.

And so, certain matters simply couldn’t be brought up in front of his mother.

His mother, Madam Li, was like a river — crying was nothing unusual for her, but if it escalated to a long poetic composition, that would truly be the end of him.

Hongcao, looking at Mama Ma’s clasped hand, said: “Mama, our Third Master says that starting next month, this courtyard’s expenses will come out of his private account — so there’s no need for the household to manage it. Besides… it’s never been enough anyway.”

The moment she said this, Mama Ma understood at once — and was quite frightened.

Her lips moved a few times before she finally raised her hand and slapped herself twice, cursing: “That damned old scoundrel deserving a thousand cuts! He’s caught that petty stinginess disease of his again! Good girl, this must be entirely his own idea — it has nothing to do with the master, the mistress, or the young mistresses! I’ll — I’ll go find him right now and get justice for our Third Master!”

With that, she rushed to the door, knocked her head in apology, and swept off like the wind.

Not long after, Guan Si’er emerged wearing a pearl-studded coronet, a red robe embroidered with cranes on narrow sleeves, a dazzling jade belt cinched at his waist, and finely crafted low-cut boots. His mother loved seeing him dressed this way — whatever was most vibrant was always the right choice.

He said with a smile: “You can’t really blame him — after all, he’s thinking of our Gong family’s interests. It’s not easy to find someone this devoted, even if you looked outside for one.”

The maid beside him, having endured enough grievance, finally couldn’t hold back and said: “He’s good, is he? Are we just supposed to deserve being mistreated then?”

Guan Si’er shook his head helplessly: “That’s exactly why I hate dealing with these petty matters — no matter which way I turn, everything’s wrong. Tomorrow I think I’ll just come home less. Every time I come back, everyone’s unhappy.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Madam Ren’s voice came from outside the door, laced with laughter: “If Third Brother says things like that, tomorrow Mama Ma’s whole family will have to atone with their lives!”

She stepped in as she spoke, bowing properly to Guan Si’er. “Mama Ma was worried this wasn’t handled properly, so she quietly told me on her way out. The girls in your room have really been holding it in too — it’s been months, and not one of them said a word. It’s my own carelessness for not noticing sooner — so here I am, hurrying over to apologize to my brother-in-law.”

Seeing her like this, Guan Si’er quickly stepped forward and made a gesture of support, saying: “Sister-in-law, please, there’s no need for that — it’s only a small matter.”

Madam Ren smiled, looked Guan Si’er over, then instructed Hongcao: “This coronet doesn’t match his robe. Go find the Third Master’s jade-inlaid cap instead. Our Third Master is a proper official now — wearing a young master’s accessories just won’t do.”

Her sense of taste was certainly not lacking.

Guan Si’er was always compliant with people who treated him well, so he let her dress him up as she pleased.

Madam Ren continued pleading Mama Ma’s case: “Third Brother, this has been going on for a long time. You know how our father-in-law is — if someone casually complains to him about hardship, he’d want to go buy them a house in the capital right then and there. You know he can’t manage a household, and he can’t hold onto money either. Not just him — your elder brothers are the same way.

That’s exactly why our late grandfather, before he passed, entrusted these matters and made Steward Jin swear a solemn oath specifically about this. It’s not just your courtyard — anyone under my charge who fails at their duties, our old steward docks their pay just the same, without exception. Mother has also said that if something goes wrong in the household, it must be reckoned with from its root cause. This is Father’s fault — you, don’t be angry over it.”

Guan Si’er adjusted his new cap, and once it felt comfortable, he said: “I never said he was wrong. I just don’t like him making decisions for my courtyard without asking me.”

Hearing this, Madam Ren seemed to realize something and paused, stunned.

Guan Si’er smiled and lifted the curtain, inviting her to walk ahead. Just as Madam Ren stepped over the threshold, Guan Si’er added: “In my household, even if an ant breaks its leg, they’d better tell me about it. Whether I care or not is my own business — but he can’t hide things from me, or make decisions on my behalf without my say-so. That would earn him a proper lesson.”

With that, he walked off smiling.

Madam Ren stood there for a good while, then suddenly clapped her hands and said: “Well, well, well — that actually doesn’t sound wrong at all, does it?”

In the main hall of the Gong residence, a dozen or so women crowded around Madam Li, showering her with compliments.

Madam Li modestly demurred with her words, though her cheeks flushed pink with excitement.

She brought out several of her proudest new poems to share, and the women, their expressions twisted with effort, forced out compliments and praise.

Just then she saw several young maids carrying in a folding screen, positioning it in front of the unmarried young ladies present. Madam Li’s eyes lit up and she asked: “Has Yan’er arrived?”

At the Gong residence, Guan Si’er’s name was Gong Yan.

Hearing the mistress’s question, an old woman outside the door said with a smile: “Madam, our Third Master has come to pay his respects to you.”

Behind the folding screen, a pair of lovely eyes lit up at the words, pressing close to the gap in the screen to peer carefully outside.

Before coming, her aunt had told her — she was a girl blessed with good fortune, someone people liked. If she could become this man’s concubine, from then on her fortune would be made.