Old people make friends easily. Not long after the spring thaw, the old woman had already become fast friends with Old Madam Hu Xu, from the neighboring alley over at the Hu residence.

Both old women had come from farming households, and they always had endless things to talk about. Both had endured great hardship and suffering, and naturally felt the need to lay it all out for each other—to recount, in detail, the years of toil spent bearing and raising children, struggling to survive.

Old women who talk too much, repeating the same stories over and over, tend not to be well liked. Sons, grandsons, daughters-in-law—they all learn to avoid her. Old Madam Xu had spent years in this kind of loneliness, and it had become a kind of sickness in her, turning her into a bitter, harsh old woman.

This old woman couldn’t afford to offend her sons and grandchildren, so instead she kept a tight watch over her three daughters-in-law. Even with servants in the house, she made the daughters-in-law rise early to pay respects, and required them all to personally prepare a full breakfast for the family together. She wouldn’t even let the servants sew clothes for her husband and children—the daughters-in-law had to make them by hand themselves…

In any case, they already resented her, whispering behind her back about what an old wolf-hag she was, still refusing to just die already.

Well then, a wolf-hag she’d be!

Old Madam Xu’s reasoning was simple enough: you all say I suffered so much, that every mother suffers the same? Then you can all take your turn suffering exactly as I did too…

Now, though, things had changed nicely. She’d rattle off one string of grievances, and the Chen family’s old woman would answer with a string of her own—the hardship of motherhood was much the same for everyone, after all, and the two of them would console each other affectionately, then take turns showing off their little treasures and possessions.

Gossiping about this family and that, laughing over this joke and that—by the end of the day, they both felt refreshed and clear-headed, and even ate an extra bowl or two at dinner.

The two old women were having the time of their lives, heading out together to enjoy themselves every single day.

The daughters-in-law over at the Hu household now looked at the Chen family’s old woman like she was some kind of savior!

They really had been suffering, after all.

Before, for the sake of appearances, they hadn’t dared let the old woman go out and socialize freely—no telling what she might blurt out in front of a group of noble ladies, going on and on, regardless of company or occasion, about the hardships of her early widowhood, about the filthy, thankless work of raising three sons through diapers and worse.

Official Hu, in particular, had had poor digestion as a child and was constantly soiling his pants—and Old Madam Xu loved nothing more than telling that story, to illustrate just how much she’d suffered washing clothes by the riverside in the dead of winter.

Now that they’d come from Shaoshang to the capital, Official Hu had been in a state of quiet despair the entire journey—no wonder, when Chen Dasheng first met him, he’d immediately noticed the man’s sunken cheeks and generally bitter, joyless expression.

Official Hu, in truth, was a capable man, well-liked by his superiors, which was how he’d come to enjoy the perk of a fine mansion at Quanqian Manor.

But who could have guessed that this place would turn out to be such a treasure trove after all!

Right next door, as it happened, was another old woman just like his own mother—and this one, a sixth-rank matriarch in her own right, carried on with even more ferocity than his own mother did.

Everything was hers, apparently! And yet, strangely, this family’s grandson’s wife never seemed to get angry about it—she simply indulged the old woman like a spoiled child.

Hmph—since she now had a rival, might as well let his own mother go out and enjoy herself too. No point in anyone laughing at anyone else, after all.

The two old women, in the midst of their merrymaking, were soon joined by Old Madam Tao from the mouth of the alley.

Old Madam Tao’s life didn’t compare to theirs, so she was ruthlessly reduced to their showpiece for comparison.

But this one had a knack for flattery—she knew just how to belittle herself while praising others—and with this balancing act, Old Madam Tao quickly became the favorite companion of both the Chen and Hu family matriarchs.

Early one morning, the old woman put on, as usual, the new clothes her granddaughter-in-law had made for her—five whole new layers from the inside out—even her socks were the embroidered-edge kind.

She cared about her appearance these days. She couldn’t match Old Madam Xu in wealth, but beating Old Madam Tao every single day was no problem at all. To hold onto her middle position, she had Qiqian’er do up her hair.

Qiqian’er applied the hair oil, gathered it into a coiled bun, and pinned in three silver flat hairpins. But when it came time to leave, the old woman suddenly seemed reluctant to go, her eyes fixed on Qiqian’er’s arm without moving.

Qiqian’er understood immediately what was on the old woman’s mind—she’d already worn her six bracelets once each; today she probably felt going out without any would seem shabby.

“All right, all right.” Qiqian’er slid her own jade bracelet off her wrist and put it on the old woman.

The old woman looked embarrassed and said awkwardly: “Just for a bit—I’ll give it right back to you later. I don’t want to keep it, I just want to wear it a while!”

Qiqian’er, carrying a basket of tea things and small snacks in one hand and the old woman’s small stool in the other, walked out with her, saying as they went: “Wear it as long as you like, no rush. I’ve got a new satin lined jacket sewn for you already, with silver filigree-flower buttons I’m putting on for you—in a couple of days I’ll have Choutou check if the silver and gold shops in the city have opened yet. If they have, we’ll bring in a craftsman and get you a few proper sets of jewelry to wear when you’re out seeing people.”

The old woman was this age already—was it so much to want to look presentable going out? Simple enough, really, when the family had money.

But the moment the old woman heard money would be spent, she immediately took the bracelet off again, insisting on returning it.

“Mine’s plenty good enough! I’ve got so many already…”

With that, she went back inside and came out wearing her own old bracelet instead, holding it up to show Qiqian’er: “See, this one’s new too, I have my own! You two don’t need to go spending money!”

Her son who supported her lived right next door; she couldn’t eat off him, couldn’t spend his money—that couple already got by on their reputation for filial devotion to the neighbors, dutifully caring for the old woman.

If she started taking things now from Choutou and his wife, she’d be no better than that.

She couldn’t hold her head up straight, couldn’t feel settled in her heart—truly, she felt she had no dignity left at all.

Sometimes at night, the old woman would toss and turn, thinking—if it weren’t for Choutou earning her that title of honor, her rank would actually be higher than Old Fourth’s, and she wouldn’t have to eat scraps under that couple’s roof; that would be a proper life.

But what if she hadn’t had that title at all?

Sometimes she also thought—what if, back then, trying to save money, she hadn’t arranged the betrothal to bring in Qian’er?

Just thinking of it made her teeth chatter.

Lost in these thoughts, she’d locked the door behind her, and grandmother and granddaughter had just entered the alley when they heard Chen Siniu’s affected, scholarly cough from ahead: “Ahem! Mm! Mm!”

Hearing this, Qiqian’er pulled the old woman along and kept walking.

They hadn’t gone more than a few steps before Chen Siniu called out behind them, his voice a mix of resentment and pleading: “Mother~!”

The old woman pretended not to hear, and stepped ahead of Qiqian’er, preparing to slip away on her own.

But before she’d gone three steps, Chen Siniu blocked her path. Without even glancing at Qiqian’er, his eyes brimming with tears, he cried out “Mother~” again: “Mother~, why must you be so hard on me? We’re all one family—if your son loses face, isn’t that the whole family’s face lost too? It’s the whole family’s shame!”

He glanced sidelong at Qiqian’er’s expression; she gave him a cold smile in return, and he immediately shifted his attention, turning back to the old woman with pleading eyes: “Mother~, please, save your son! I’ve reached the end of my rope! Xique’s expecting again—next year you’ll have a new grandchild to hold… if Father could see this from beyond, wouldn’t he be overjoyed? But if you don’t help me… tomorrow my whole family goes hungry! Mother~!”

Chen Siniu had always been a coward by nature—the stronger you stood up to him, the more cowardly he became, so he only ever dared bully his own mother.

But the old woman was not who she used to be. Seeing his shamelessness, she spat at him and scolded: “Bah! This old woman won’t say a word for you! If you’ve got the nerve, go say it yourself! I don’t think you’ve got the guts! You think I’m blind to your filth, that I don’t have witnesses? I know exactly what disgraceful things you’ve done, you think no one knows?”

When an elder scolds another elder, Qiqian’er wouldn’t say a single extra word—she simply stood quietly and watched Chen Siniu.

This man, too, was resourceful in his own way. It had taken him only a few days to secure a position with the Ministry of Works, after which he’d changed into a proper scholar’s robe, topped with a black scholar’s cap—early spring weather wasn’t even hot yet, but he’d taken to carrying a folding fan besides.

Ha—truly a man worthy of the history books.

Back before the New Year, Chen Siniu had taken his letter of recommendation to Yanjing, and spent the entire festival season currying favor with everyone he could, spending an enormous sum of silver, before finally securing a seventh-rank clerkship position in the Ministry of Works.

The man he’d approached did hold real power, and had originally intended to place him at the Water Bureau. But when the department head learned Chen Siniu was entirely illiterate, that plan fell through immediately—what could such a man possibly do at the Water Bureau?

Things were different now than in the old dynasty—the previous dynasty had actually fallen because of mismanagement at the Water Bureau. Bringing in another illiterate man now would only be inviting more trouble.

The department head mulled it over, and in the end, out of consideration for the family connection, found Chen Siniu a decent enough spot: a seventh-rank clerkship in the Firewood Bureau of the Qingfeng Ministry of Works office—but gave him no actual duties to perform, just a nominal title and a salary to collect.

The Firewood Bureau was actually a lucrative posting. To put it simply: outside Yanjing, forty li out, lay Baiquan Mountain, and along that mountain range for the next two hundred li, the Ministry of Works operated twenty separate charcoal-production stations. Any one of these, given to Chen Siniu to oversee, would have been a goldmine.

But he was illiterate, couldn’t do sums, and knew nothing about charcoal production—so all he could do was hold the title in name only.

Even Chen Siniu himself understood that he’d likely be able to hold onto the post for three years at most.

If his performance review came back poor, never mind advancing further in office—he might simply be dismissed outright, no questions asked, since he hadn’t come up through the proper scholarly track. Without an actual post to hold, he’d have to go crawling back to the Ministry of Personnel to try to scheme up some new connection to fill a vacancy.

He’d transferred from military to civil service, and as a man who’d only gotten his position through recommendation, it would be all too easy for someone to shove him aside.

He fretted over this endlessly, worried sick—and then, suddenly, salvation seemed to fall from the sky!

His youngest nephew, blessed with extraordinary fortune, had somehow become a favorite in His Majesty’s inner circle—become the very apple of the Emperor’s eye, even the adopted son of the great eunuch She Qingling!

The first time he’d heard his nephew’s name spoken with such envy by others, Chen Siniu had been shocked—and once the shock had settled, fear set in right behind it.

No wonder—the truth was, the bond between uncle and nephews here was only skin-deep, a matter of appearances. Privately, the rift had long since torn wide open. Whether it was Stinky Melon, Stinky Egg, Stinky Bolt, or Stinky Head—none of them thought much of this uncle of theirs at all.

Especially Choutou’s father—after what had happened to his own third brother, Chen Sanniu, there had never been a shred of uncle-nephew affection left in this world between them.

His third brother had also served under the Tan family, specifically under Tan Shilin’s command.

And Tan Shilin was, after General Tan the Second, the second Tan family member most favored by His Majesty.

Years ago, when the Retired Emperor of Ningzhong had come under threat, Tan Shilin had led fifty soldiers back to rescue him. The Retired Emperor made it back safely in the end, but most of those soldiers had lost their lives in the process.

Because the Retired Emperor’s life was of such precious worth, His Majesty had personally paid, out of his own pocket, two hundred taels in compensation for each soldier who died, with an additional provision: if the fallen soldier had a direct blood relative in servitude, one such relative would be granted pardon and freedom as a commoner.

Chen Siniu had gone to collect the money himself; the relative who was pardoned turned out to be Qiao Shi’s former husband.

Since they’d all served together under the Tan family banner, Chen Siniu figured his nephew surely knew all about what had happened to his third brother—but so what? Every man for himself, after all!

There had been a period after that when he hadn’t dared face his nephews at all. But he was a man his superiors used as a personal cash cow, holding his cowardice over his head as leverage—and to survive, Chen Siniu had gone, one by one, under the pretext of “filial devotion to grandmother,” to extort money from his nephews.

He’d told himself back then—who knew if these boys would even survive anyway? Worst case, they’d die, and he’d just burn a few more offerings for them later.

Who could have guessed—in the end, four of them survived after all, along with that niece, Ding Xiang, who was no pushover either.

Wasn’t it only fair that he go on living? He was, after all, the only survivor of the family’s second generation—was it so wrong to squeeze a little money out of them? If he’d been the one in trouble instead, wouldn’t they have had to pay to save him too?

Why did every single one of them have to be so utterly heartless about it!

A man’s dignity, once lost, gradually gets thrown away entirely, bit by bit.

What else could he do, really? Chen Siniu felt he’d done nothing wrong—at least his brothers were all dead, and he alone had survived.

No face left to lose, so be it—he’d never planned on keeping much dignity to begin with. He’d suffered through so many hard years already; was he supposed to just go back to being a dirt farmer now that he’d finally scraped together a seventh-rank official post?

Besides, Qiao Shi was pregnant again—was he supposed to let his own child grow up living off other people’s charity and pity?

Chen Siniu had spent days racking his brain over what to do, and in the end, he’d listened to Qiao Shi—no matter what, he had to secure a real, substantive post. A nominal position with no actual duties, no matter who held it, was sure to spell disaster sooner or later.

But how exactly was he supposed to land a real post at the Ministry of Works? Actually, it was simple enough—uncle and nephew together, taking a stroll through the government offices of Yanjing—surely people would be falling over themselves to curry favor, and the results might even turn out better this way.

And yet Chen Siniu didn’t dare even speak to his nephew, let alone make any request of him.

So what was he to do? He still had his mother, didn’t he!

And so, these past few days, Chen Siniu had thrown himself, almost possessed, into tormenting the old woman. Day and night, whenever no one else was around, he begged and pleaded; in the dead of night, he’d even climb over the wall and crouch beneath the old woman’s window to plead his case.

The one thing Chen Siniu hadn’t accounted for was that the old woman was no longer who she used to be. Just last night, the moment he’d climbed over, she’d doused him with a basin of cold water.

And in this bitter, lingering spring-cold weather too!

“Mother~!”

Chen Siniu gazed at his own mother pleadingly, not even sure himself what he was feeling anymore—he now felt utterly, thoroughly abandoned, thinking Heaven was unfair, and now even his own mother was being unfair to him.

But his mother, remembering the torment of the night before, could bear it no longer. She raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face!

“Crack!”

The sound of the slap rang out sharply through the alley, and it drew attention all the way to the alley’s entrance.

Old Madam Xu, with her booming voice, immediately called out: “Is that the Chen-Wu household? Did someone fall?”

Afraid of being seen, Chen Siniu quickly ducked behind the gate. The old woman grabbed Qiqian’er and hurried off, her hand trembling as they walked.

Qiqian’er took a breath, turned to the old woman, and said with a smile: “Don’t worry! Don’t fret! I’ll think of something!”

The old woman didn’t shed a single tear, only stared straight ahead and said: “It’s fine. This old woman gave up hoping long ago…”

Worst case, she’d simply die—she wouldn’t let herself become a burden dragging down her grandsons.

Qiqian’er saw the old woman all the way out of the alley, and just as they emerged, they ran straight into Old Madam Xu from the neighboring Ministry of Works alley.

Ah, right—these days, the alleys of Quanhou Manor were evenly divided: six ministries plus the Imperial Guard unit, fairly and equally distributed, everyone satisfied.

Old Madam Xu was chatting away with Old Madam Tao. Seeing this grandmother and granddaughter pair, she didn’t bother rising in courtesy the way Old Madam Tao had, but instead held out her arm to show off a thick gold bracelet: “Oh my, you’re finally here! Venerable Ancestress, little ancestress, good day to you both! I won’t be getting up today, truly didn’t sleep well last night.” She stroked the bracelet on her arm and added: “Caught a chill washing clothes in cold water back in the day, left me with a lasting ailment…”

The old woman waved this off indifferently: “Get up for what? What’s it to you anyway? Always putting on these little airs, so pointless! No use at all! Ah—once you get to my age, even my feet don’t move right in the mornings. Nearly tripped just now, these shoes are so uncomfortable!” She gave her skirt a little shake, revealing a pair of new socks with frayed brocade trim and embroidered flowers.

Hmph! Imperial-bestowed, no less!

Qiqian’er set up the small stool and cushion for the others, then arranged today’s batch of fried snacks she’d made on Old Madam Xu’s table, along with a serving of hot tea.

Once everything was properly laid out, she bowed with a smile and said: “This is what our old ancestress suggested I try making yesterday! Don’t be fooled by it being fried food—it’s nice and crispy, elders, why don’t you give it a try? Won’t be hard on your teeth at all.”

The old woman, seeing how much oil had gone into it, felt a pang in her heart, but had to put on an act of having eaten plenty already and not caring much for it: “Yes, yes, you all try some, nothing too special about it, I’m sick of the stuff myself, you all eat, go on, eat!”

Old Madam Tao personally reached out and took a piece, cupping it in her hand to eat, and praised it enthusiastically once she’d finished.

Only then did Old Madam Xu deign to try a couple of pieces herself, and to her surprise found them quite to her taste—delighted, she immediately, without any shame, asked for the recipe.

But the Chen family’s old woman—well, you know her by now—simply spat right in the woman’s face.

Yet Old Madam Xu wasn’t offended in the least, and instead said with a wheedling smile to the young Chen mistress: “Little ancestress, do me a kindness—these last two back teeth of mine have been loose lately, and it’s been ages since I’ve had anything this crispy and savory that I could actually chew. Would you be so kind as to spare an old beggar-woman like me a little more tomorrow?”

Qiqian’er covered her mouth and laughed: “Of course! I made plenty at home—I was actually planning to send some along with my husband to the garrison as a snack. Have someone come with me and I’ll wrap some up for you! Oh, poor thing, getting older really does have its downsides—teeth going bad, food not tasting as good anymore!”

Heh, that much, she understood from personal experience.

The three old women immediately launched into comparing notes on their teeth.

Old Madam Tao stood off to the side, secretly envious and secretly disgusted with herself.

These days, with her sons all remembering to look after the family, her own life had improved tenfold. What more could she possibly want?

She should have been satisfied. But now, look at this! Old Madam Xu went out attended by two matrons, with a young maid half-kneeling to massage her legs.

And even that grand display wasn’t the half of it—after all, she was the venerable ancestress of a sixth-rank official’s household.

Then again, take the Chen family—no one dared say a single bad word about them. Sure, they didn’t have a single servant in the house, but they’d landed themselves a grandson’s wife so accommodating, so blessed with good fortune, that ever since this young wife had arrived, old Grandmother Chen had practically fallen into a jar of honey.

No matter how grand Old Madam Xu’s displays were, none of it compared to the thoughtful, dignified care the Chen family grandmother received—every last stitch on her body prepared personally by her granddaughter-in-law.

And yet, strangely enough, these two women who had it so good still complained endlessly, day in and day out—who even knew what they were complaining about?

But thinking it over, only people who had it good had the luxury of finding others to complain to. Just look at herself—sitting here, she didn’t even dare complain, and instead had to work hard just to keep everyone in good spirits.

Thinking this, Old Madam Tao felt a pang of bitterness inside, but forced a bright, cheerful smile and said: “Let me tell you, I heard the night watchman making his rounds last night—perhaps today a monk will come around collecting alms!”

The moment she said this, the two old women lit up with delight, both immediately sending their attendants home to prepare a bowl each of fine rice and flour right away.

In times like these, whose family didn’t have someone who’d passed on? Who wouldn’t want to send along a little merit for the departed?

In peaceful, uneventful years, monks would come down from the mountain making their rounds, then go begging door to door among the good, charitable households during the day—after all, monks didn’t accept alms for nothing in return.

The old woman had never been this generous before. She grabbed Qiqian’er’s hand and said: “Well, that settles it! That settles it! Let’s hurry home and get a bowl ready… no, ten catties! Let’s give ten catties of our very best grain as alms!”

Qiqian’er, understanding the old woman’s deep-seated worry, patted her hand and said: “All right! Sure! You wait here, I’ll go get it right now!”

With that, she turned and headed back to her own courtyard. The moment she stepped inside, she saw Chen Dasheng hunched over the table, copying out a sutra.

This man really was trying hard, in his own way.

Seeing him with nothing to do, Qiqian’er went in and said to him: “Go find your Fourth Uncle and sit down with him for a bit. Judging by how he was acting, he must have gone back to bother Grandmother again last night! Grandmother doesn’t want to deal with him, but he’s practically trying to drive her to her death!”

With that, Qiqian’er hurried to the side room, scooped a full measure of rice into a basin, and took it outside—she, too, longed for the day the monk would finally come down the mountain on his rounds; that, she felt, would finally set everything right.

By the time Qiqian’er came out carrying the rice, she saw Chen Dasheng shuffling out the door in his slippers.

Still uneasy about him, Qiqian’er called out: “Hey!”

Chen Dasheng turned to look at her: “Hm?”

After all—after all, this was crossing a line, striking an elder!

Qiqian’er lowered her voice and cautioned him: “Whatever you do, don’t hit his face! He’s still your elder, after all.”

Chen Dasheng grinned and replied, “Got it,” then shuffled off in his slippers.

By the time Qiqian’er made it outside with the rice, she spotted Old Madam Tao off in a corner of the alley, quietly breaking up the fried snacks Qiqian’er had brought out and scattering them on the ground.

This was what a poor household did when they couldn’t afford to reciprocate a gift properly—give it to the ants instead, give it to the little birds…

Qiqian’er pretended not to notice, and carrying the rice, walked around the woman and headed back toward the Ministry of Works alley.

The old woman saw her carrying a full basin, and for once said not a word, only smiling at her.

And so the three of them—grandmother, granddaughter, and the old woman’s new friend—sat together at the mouth of the Ministry of Works alley, waiting for the monk. They waited, and waited… all the way until mid-afternoon, but the monk never came.

The old woman went home disappointed, and even dinner that night didn’t sit quite right with her.

That night, once Qiqian’er had finished tidying up and crawled into bed, she spoke across the curtain to the person at the other end of the large kang: “Chen Choutou!”

After a long pause, Chen Dasheng answered lazily: “Mm?”

“Did you hit him?”

“Mm.”

“Hard?”

“He’ll be laid up three, five days at least!”

Qiqian’er sighed softly, wrapped herself in the blanket, and lay there thinking.

Chen Siniu might be a coward, but he had a stubborn streak in him too, one that ran in the Chen family blood.

Which meant that in three or five days’ time, he’d be back to tormenting the old woman again?

The old woman was just gritting her teeth and enduring it now, forcing herself to bear it. But sooner or later, all this endurance was going to break something in her…

The curtain beside her rustled and was pulled open. Chen Siniu—no, Chen Dasheng—stood there in his inner robes, staring at Qiqian’er: “Wife! I can’t take it anymore! I’m about to burst!”

Qiqian’er was terrified out of her wits.

She bolted upright, clutching the blanket, scooting backward, stammering: “You, you, you can’t go back on your word! You already agreed, didn’t you… and, and our An’er still has to wait… I, I’m still in mourning, you forgot? You, you just hold it in—or wait, should I…” Qiqian’er eyed him warily, his eyes red-rimmed, and said carefully: “Should I get you a bucket of well water? To cool you off? Cool you right down!”

Qiqian’er thought to herself—if he tried anything, she’d just throw him straight down the well to cool off completely.

Chen Dasheng quickly caught on to what she meant, and burst out laughing despite himself.

He reached over, let the curtain drop, and said loudly from the other side: “What do you take me for? I meant about Grandmother’s situation… it’s been driving me crazy!”

Qiqian’er let out a long breath of relief, sat there steadying herself for a moment, then got up, walked to the curtain, and pulled it open.

Everything opened up before her; Chen Dasheng raised an eyebrow at his little wife in her water-scallion green inner robe and said mockingly: “Willing to open the curtain now, are you?”

Qiqian’er laughed awkwardly: “Oh, look at you, what are you even thinking? I just… hey! Isn’t it open now? Look! It’s open! I trust you, who else would I trust, I trust you completely!”

She gave the curtain a firm tug, then quickly retreated back into the blankets, wrapping herself up tight.

Chen Dasheng lay back down, helpless. In truth, he’d always felt something odd about the way things were between him and his wife, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly was strange about it—it just felt off, somehow.

Was there anywhere else in the world where a man was treated and managed like a child? Where he wasn’t even allowed to get close to his own wife, guarded against like some kind of thief, sleeping every night on the same kang but at opposite ends, with a curtain strung up between them no less?

Of course he wouldn’t do anything untoward! But then why didn’t she trust him?

Chen Dasheng had a whole stomach full of questions, but unfortunately his own teacher was a eunuch, which made asking such questions feel a bit too cruel.

As for His Majesty—hmph, it wasn’t that he looked down on him, but just look at the state of chaos in the back palace; the man could barely manage his own affairs, let alone offer advice on this.

And his closest friend, Brother Liu—hmph, it wasn’t that he thought little of him either, but the man had money and didn’t even know how to save it for a rainy day, spending it all wooing pretty girls at some newly opened teahouse!

He’d be in for it eventually, that one.

So who was he supposed to ask, then? Or maybe he shouldn’t say anything at all, just let things run their course—maybe married couples the world over were just like this… No, still felt off, somehow.

The room fell quiet, all the way until the sound of the monk’s rounds could be heard outside. Only then did his wife’s soft voice come from beside him: “Do you… know anyone in the Ministry of Works?”

Chen Dasheng blinked, and immediately the square, blocky face of Minister Wuchangnian of the Ministry of Works flashed through his mind—he’d never seen a face quite that squared-off before.

“I’ve spoken with Minister Wu a few times.”

Qiqian’er blinked, then turned over decisively to face him. “That favor’s too big—we can’t afford to owe that much. We shouldn’t ask him for anything. Think of someone smaller.”

Not sure what his wife was up to, Chen Dasheng started running through the Ministry of Works officials in his head—the left and right vice ministers? Third rank, still not small enough…

Then he thought of someone and said: “There’s a bureau director in the Yu Department, surname Lei, I think—he owes me a favor.”

Qiqian’er turned over again, looking at Chen Dasheng, who was looking right back at her. “Yu Department, huh! Fifth rank, that’ll do nicely—why didn’t you say so sooner! This one’s perfect. What favor does he owe you, exactly?”

Chen Dasheng seemed to recall something, and laughed for a moment before turning his head to tell her: “Not sure exactly why, but there was some engineering project at the Ministry of Works that kept going wrong, and His Majesty got so angry he had the man beaten three separate times in one day—sixty-some strokes each time! I saw how weak the man looked afterward, so I told the guards doing the beating, go easy, don’t hit so hard you actually kill him! The next day, he specially sent someone to our post to thank me, said I’d saved his life… Honestly, His Majesty’s never really been able to get over his grudge against officials from the old dynasty—my teacher goes on about it every single day…”

Chen Dasheng, not sure what had gotten into him, started rambling on about His Majesty’s temper, going on and on until he suddenly caught himself sounding “off” again, and turned, wide-eyed, to look at his wife. “I… I… Wife? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Qiqian’er smiled faintly and shook her head. “Nothing, I just didn’t expect you’d come this far on your own…”

Chen Dasheng didn’t follow. “Come how far?”

Qiqian’er smiled. “Never mind that. I was just saying—if you needed something done, would this Yu Department official actually listen to you and do it?”

Chen Dasheng thought about it, then said with confidence: “He wouldn’t dare not listen. You have something you need him for?”

Qiqian’er shook her head. “Not me. Your Fourth Uncle.”

The moment he heard this, Chen Dasheng shot upright in bed. In the moonlight, his expression turned positively alarming as he stared at Qiqian’er: “You want me to help Chen Siniu?”

Qiqian’er sniffed. “Why are you getting worked up? Lie back down!”

That last part came out rather sternly.

Chen Dasheng froze, then, remembering his standing in this household, immediately went limp, tilting his head back and pleading: “Wife, can we just… not help him?”

Qiqian’er said calmly from beside him: “Not help him? He’ll keep tormenting Grandmother every day until she can’t take it anymore and dies of it! And once Grandmother’s gone, he’ll have even less reason to hold back—he’ll just keep going. He’s got one child there, another one coming… and they’re all living right here in the same manor. No rice today, no firewood tomorrow—poverty strips away a man’s dignity, and he’s already thrown his away entirely. He’ll just keep having children, generation after generation… Never mind the rest of it—but one day, what’s our An’er supposed to do?”

Chen Dasheng blinked. He’d grown used to the idea of having a son named An’er by now—after all, his wife spoke of it with such certainty.

Confused, he asked: “What do you mean, what’s he supposed to do?”

Qiqian’er sighed. “Think about it—our son, favored by Heaven itself! A young master from an official household, destined for great things! But what if he’s dragged down by a pack of destitute relatives who won’t have a shred of shame left, generation after generation? If we’re not around anymore to hold them back, then those descendants of the fourth branch—won’t they end up dragging down our own children and grandchildren too?”

Chen Dasheng thought it over carefully, and realized—yes, exactly, that was exactly how it could go!

What on earth could they do about it?

For a moment, it all played out vividly in his mind, one terrible consequence after another, until finally he thought—why not just arrange some kind of “accident” for the man tomorrow?

Or send him off to become someone like his own teacher?

No, no, no! Chen Siniu, that kind of vile man, would be an insult to the profession of eunuchs. But actually killing him off—Grandmother would never survive that either…

As he racked his brain for a solution, he heard his wife say: “Actually… your Fourth Uncle’s only afraid of losing the dignity of being a seventh-rank official—afraid of what people will think of him. His problem is actually quite simple to solve…”

Chen Dasheng, thoroughly worried, turned to stare at his wife. “Simple? You have a plan?”

Qiqian’er nodded, sat up, and held up a finger toward Chen Dasheng. “Don’t wait for him to torment Grandmother again. Tomorrow, quietly head back to Yanjing and find that bureau director… arrange it directly. Get him assigned a real post—one that’s hard and exhausting—without letting him know it was us who did it.

“Your Fourth Uncle has no other talents, but enduring hardship, he’s got that much in common with the rest of you. And after that… just make sure he never rises above seventh rank, not ever. As long as he’s drawing a salary, he’ll have to support his own household on it. This Quanhou Manor is full of people constantly comparing themselves to each other—hah, he’ll never get ahead here. And he won’t dare come begging you for help too often either. Plenty of low-ranking officials die off unnoticed every year in this world—once you’ve sealed off his path to advancement, he won’t be able to cause any real trouble. Do you understand?”

Chen Dasheng thought it over for a moment, then stuck a thumbs-up out from under the blankets at his wife. “Clever! Wife, this is what they call ‘killing with a dull blade,’ isn’t it?”

Qiqian’er snorted. “It’s not like I asked for this grief he’s causing me! Might as well wear him down slowly, then.”