Gu Tingye wore an expression of contentment as his muscular arms gathered Minglan up together with the brocade quilt, pressing a kiss to her warm and soft little face. Minglan was so exhausted that she could barely keep her eyes open, mumbling a few vague sounds as she burrowed her head deeper into the covers. Gu Tingye watched with amusement, then called for servants to help him change into his court robes before heading out. The ground outside was still wet — a torrential rain had fallen through the entire night, only gradually stopping at daybreak — and the weather had turned refreshingly pleasant. Rainwater traced transparent arcs along the window ledges, and from beneath the eaves came the cheerful, rhythmic sound of dripping water.

Another hour and a half passed before Danju came in, vigorously excavating the small, curled figure from within the brocade quilt, attending to her bath and change of clothes — all while determinedly avoiding looking at the layered bruises and fingerprints on Minglan’s snow-white waist and legs, or the reddish-blue kiss marks covering half her body — and simply opened the window to air out the room’s lingering intimate scent.

Minglan endured her burning-red face and forcefully ignored the look of tender pity in Danju’s eyes. As the saying goes, labor is glorious — physical labor and mental labor are equally honorable!

Having sorted out the general matters of personnel the previous day, it was now time to assign duties throughout the household.

The staff Gu Tingye had brought were more than sufficient to wait upon just the two of them, but to properly manage the vast Commander’s Residence was another matter entirely. The rear garden’s flowers, plants, and pond alone — not to mention the expansive stretch of woodland — required at least ten or so people for upkeep and care. Throughout the entire residence, including the main courtyard, the separate courtyards, the side courtyards, and the guest rooms, there were numerous chambers in total, and even the unoccupied ones needed a few young maids assigned to look after them, lest they fall into neglect and ruin.

In the future, Rong Jie’er, Gong Yiniang, and Hong Xiao would all be coming to live here — each of them would need a full complement of attendants. And then there were the storerooms, night-watch duties, needlework, laundry, purchasing, six or seven kitchens of varying sizes, first and second-tier serving maids for the main quarters, maids for the separate courtyards, miscellaneous errand boys, coarse-duty matrons, inner courtyard managers, outer courtyard managers, the stables, the gatehouse, the reception office, the page boys… Minglan counted and recounted on her fingers, and no matter how she tallied it, there were never enough. That was why yesterday she had written a letter to Hai Shi, asking her to recommend a reliable servant broker.

Hai Shi was close to her confinement and could not move about much — she had been growing restless with boredom — so the moment Minglan’s letter arrived, she immediately set to work. Early that very morning, two servant brokers arrived at the door, carrying Hai Shi’s calling card and leading a large group of people. Minglan had someone open the outer courtyard’s side reception hall for them to wait in, then made her way over at a leisurely pace.

Both brokers were women of about forty, neatly and trimly dressed, with appropriate and respectful speech. Accustomed as they were to dealing with noble and official households, their manner of speaking was measured — neither overly brash nor darting their eyes about the room. Behind them stood two rows of boys and girls of varying sizes, most between the ages of ten and fourteen, all standing with heads bowed in respectful silence.

Minglan was quite satisfied. She had known that a prominent household in the capital like the Hai family would have stewards capable of recommending better-quality brokers.

As the saying goes, every trade produces its champions. In ancient times, the servant-brokering trade had its own hierarchy of ranks. The lower-tier ones dealt in the kinds of disreputable brothel businesses that could not bear the light of day; the more black-hearted ones also dabbled in abducting lost children from good families — such as the unfortunate Lady Ying Lian — and servants procured through such brokers often had murky origins and unclear documentation, liable to bring trouble if one were not careful, as the even more unfortunate Feng Gong could attest.

When truly prominent households needed to purchase servants, they invariably went through established brokers who guaranteed clean sourcing and straightforward documentation, with no future complications. The higher-tier brokers would even take boys and girls purchased from disaster zones and famine regions, train them in proper conduct beforehand, and only bring them to market once they were suitably disciplined. Among the children standing here today, there were basically none who were particularly unruly or wild.

Which was why little Yan, that girl, really could only go into performance work — a broker of this caliber probably would not even take her.

Nanny Cui pressed her lips tightly together, her gaze stern as she swept over the boys and girls one by one. Those with too-sharp tongues — rejected. Those who were seductively pretty — rejected. Those who were cringing and shifty — rejected. Those who spoke clearly, moved nimbly, had decent needlework skills, and above all were honest and hardworking — these were acceptable, so long as they were not obviously defective in appearance. In one continuous sweep, she selected nine girls and five boys.

Minglan watched from the side with a slight smile, pretending not to notice the various flattering, ingratiating, or inquisitive glances directed her way. Though she personally found several of the comely and gentle-natured ones rather appealing, she still followed proper procedure, having Nanny Cui take them away. Together with the existing batch of young servants and household-born children already in the residence, they would all begin from the outer perimeter duties, undergoing training and observation before eventually being distributed to various posts.

With this matter settled, Minglan summoned a group of matrons and servant women and headed to the rear garden to assign their duties. Some duties were more desirable than others, and in theory one ought to reserve the plum assignments for “one’s own people” — but Minglan disagreed with this approach. What truly mattered, she believed, was maintaining firm control of the key departments. Besides, what did “one’s own people” even mean? He Shen had certainly been loyal to the Qianlong Emperor, yet that had not prevented him from embezzling on a massive scale. Clearly, loyalty and corruption had no absolute relationship with each other.

Better to let the facts speak for themselves. Which people were truly dependable could only be assessed through trial. For now, assignments would follow ability and aptitude.

Minglan rode in a two-man bamboo-pole open sedan chair, with Danju walking beside her — together with two small maids carrying ledgers — while a large crowd of servants followed in her wake. They passed through the various sections of the residence one by one as she made her assignments. She had done her homework the previous day, and now, following plans she had worked out in advance, she divided the garden and pond areas into clearly defined responsibility zones, designating specific personnel to manage and tend each section.

Those who had previously tended to the bamboo were to continue caring for the bamboo grove — it should maintain an air of elegant height and refinement, with a regular supply of fresh bamboo shoots and mushrooms as tribute, and ideally a shaded corner should be cultivated where a small summer retreat could one day be constructed from bamboo. Those who had previously tended to the flowers were to continue managing the flower gardens — in addition to providing seasonal blooms for each of the main rooms throughout the four seasons, the gardens as a whole were to be kept in beautiful condition, and on every day save for winter, the grounds were to be fragrant and blooming in abundance… The remaining areas — the pond, the plum grove, the rear quarters — were each assigned their own staff in turn. Then came the caretakers for the various empty rooms, the storerooms, the night-watch stations, the inner and outer courtyards, and other areas requiring personnel.

After these assignments were made one by one, not only were those servants bestowed by imperial grace greatly astonished, but even those from the four households of Lai, Hua, Tian, and Diao found themselves quietly alarmed.

To speak plainly, Minglan’s outward appearance and manner had absolutely nothing to do with descriptions like “sharp and capable.” It was well known that a truly formidable mistress of the house would begin managing affairs before dawn — issuing tokens of authority, reviewing accounts, disbursing funds, inspecting operations at every turn, and so forth.

Minglan, by contrast, presented herself in every way as a woman of idle leisure. A beauty of flowerlike loveliness, she was gentle and refined in manner, unhurried in speech, and pleasant in her dealings with people. In her daily life she even carried a certain languid ease — sleeping a full five double-hours every day, strolling for half a double-hour after meals, with particular seasonal broths and stews each prepared to their own specifications, adhering closely to the principles of nourishing one’s health through food and rest. She spent her days tending to herself until her skin glowed, rosy-cheeked and radiant, her spirits perpetually at ease — all other matters were left to wait their turn.

Faced with such a “lazy” mistress, the household servants were not quite moved to outright contempt, but there was certainly a degree of carelessness in their attitude, and some harbored thoughts of slacking and cutting corners. Yet on the day Minglan had first appeared and conducted a thorough investigation into the backgrounds of each person — dismissing Nanny Lai on the spot — everyone had gradually sensed that this lady of the house was not someone easily fooled.

Now today, hearing Minglan assign duties with clear command and systematic logic, each placement suited to the individual’s strengths, with no favoritism based on closeness or distance, only one of her dowry servants — Liu Mangui — appointed as a sub-manager in the outer courtyard, while assignments such as garden oversight even came with pre-built profit margins as an incentive — the assembled servants could not help but feel a measure of respect.

Minglan clearly reaffirmed the household rule that “the inner and outer courtyards must not be dominated by the same hand.” Since Nanny Cui managed affairs in the inner courtyard, Old Cui’s family continued handling Minglan’s dowry farmlands and forests in the outer courtyard. Ji Qiang, being by nature honest and slow-spoken, was assigned to help manage the carriage, sedan, and stable operations.

For a moment, the assembled servants were genuinely impressed.

“As the saying goes, time reveals a person’s true heart — everyone’s abilities and capacities will gradually become apparent.” Minglan leaned against the carved and painted garden corridor, smiling lazily. “I’m young, and my arrangements may not be entirely thorough and appropriate. Let’s try things this way for a year first and see. If anything proves unsuitable, duties can be reassigned — or you may come and speak to me about it…”

The matrons and servant women were inwardly startled, and dared no longer think lightly of Minglan. A measure of genuine awe took root in their hearts. Each received their assignment, slapped their chests with vigorous pledges, and withdrew respectfully.

The ones who received the greatest shock, however, were surely those from the four households of Lai, Hua, Tian, and Diao. They had originally assumed that with Minglan being young and inexperienced, and with no authoritative elder figure established in the residence, the convicted officials’ household servants might prove unreliable while the newly purchased staff was not yet ready for use — clearly a moment when staffing was insufficient — and that they would be able to firmly hold on to the most lucrative and important positions. Yet Minglan, for all her appearance of being “decorative” and useless and delicate, had shown no signs of panic or uncertainty whatsoever. She had everything calculated in advance and proceeded in an orderly fashion, assigning and arranging all duties from start to finish without once showing hesitation or losing her footing.

When she did not know something, she asked. Once she had asked, she verified. Once verified, she had a complete plan by the following day — requiring absolutely no intervention or assistance from any of them. Watching as Minglan gradually brought the household affairs into order, with every person fulfilling their specific role, servants coming and going in busy activity, and the vast Gu Residence being managed with perfect system and order — it was only then that these four households began to feel afraid.

All the good positions had been taken. What were they — these old radishes — to do now? Nanny Lai and Nanny Diao in particular were full of deep regret for having offended Minglan right at the outset. By now, Nanny Hua was responsible for tidying up the Kouyang Courtyard where Rong Jie’er would one day reside, and Nanny Tian had also been given a mid-level assignment. Only those two — one left idle, one “recuperating” — were at a loss for what to do.

Minglan did not concern herself with their grievances. She went directly with her people to open the storeroom, methodically cataloguing every item inside and organizing them by category. Once the inventory was complete, she extracted a long list of items following a pre-drafted plan: ceremonial vessels, incense burners, porcelain, gold ware, jade objects, cloisonné, bronzeware, decorative screens, and jade-and-stone sculptural ornaments. She also withdrew twenty bolts of fine fabric to give to the needlework room for making two new sets of summer clothing for the household staff. When this news spread, the servants throughout the residence erupted in a wave of delight — the poor souls had received their four-seasons clothing last year from a ready-made garment shop outside, and not only was the fabric inferior, the fit was poor as well. Ready-made clothing was far from widespread in those times.

Speaking of the storeroom, Minglan was still seething with fresh irritation. When she had first opened it the previous day, she had detected a faint medicinal smell. Passing through several large rooms, she had eventually discovered, in a cold and obscure corner, an enormous stockpile of precious medicinal ingredients — ginseng, angelica root, rhinoceros horn, ox gallstone, musk, deer antler velvet, cordyceps, tiger bone, leopard bone, monkey bezoar, sea seal kidney, bear bile… a miscellaneous heap of them, like a sundry goods shop, filling half a room.

Minglan stared at it all with wide eyes. Some of the ingredients had lost part of their medicinal potency due to improper storage, and confronted with such waste, she had angrily demanded an explanation from Gu Tingye. To her astonishment, Gu Tingye responded with great cheerfulness: “…There’s still tiger bone and bear bile? Excellent! Brother Chengqian is soon departing for the Miao frontier garrison — his knee injury from before has never fully healed, and the southern regions are plagued by miasma and toxic insects. I was just thinking of preparing two doses of good tiger bone ointment for him to take along. You can help me look through and find them tomorrow!”

Minglan was speechless. This man had completely missed the point she was trying to make. She wondered if he listened to the Emperor the same way.

Sighing and shaking her head, she set to work organizing all the medicinal ingredients, cataloguing each item meticulously — an exhausting labor, yet not without its rewards. Minglan found several particularly fat and solid old mountain ginseng roots. She sent the largest one to Sheng Lao, and found some medicinal ingredients and tonics suited for postpartum recovery and newborns, which she dispatched as gifts to Hai Shi and Hualan.

So absorbed was she in this work that she did not notice the hour until the time for execution of prisoners had already passed — she was startled to realize that today’s lunch would be late, a serious violation of her own health regimen that would cascade into disrupting her afternoon nap. She was overcome with deep resentment at this. Immediately and solemnly, she declared: today’s work is concluded; further business shall be addressed at the next opportunity.

After washing up, she sat down at the small round table and looked at the dishes spread before her. One sip of soup, and Minglan finally felt some relief. She set down her spoon just as Xiaotao led in a matron carrying a food box.

The matron was about forty years of age, tall and sturdily built, with thick eyebrows and large eyes, heavyset and somewhat oily-skinned, her clothing reasonably clean and tidy, and her manner plainspoken. She entered trembling slightly, gave Minglan a formal greeting, then withdrew from the food box a dish and placed it on the table. The octagonal round plate — fine-boned blue and white porcelain — was covered with a fresh green lotus leaf. The moment the leaf was lifted, a rich fragrance billowed through the room.

“My lady, the lotus-fragrant sticky rice steamed pork ribs are ready. As per my lady’s instructions, I first blanched them in ginger water to remove the blood and the fishy odor, then marinated them with seasonings for one double-hour, then briefly seared them in hot oil, and finally steamed them in the large steamer together with the soaked sticky rice and lotus leaves that had been steeped in rice wine, steaming for a full double-hour. They have been kept warm in the steamer basket and have just now been brought out.” The matron’s voice was naturally loud, but she deliberately lowered it to a deferential murmur.

Minglan first examined the color and appearance, and gave a slight nod. The matron seemed to exhale a faint breath of relief. Then Minglan lifted her chopsticks and gently tasted a piece. A look of satisfaction gradually spread across her face, and the matron’s shoulders finally relaxed.

“Nanny Ge has worked hard.” Minglan set down her chopsticks and smiled. “The essential quality of this dish lies in a single word: thorough. The sticky rice must be thoroughly permeated with the fragrance of meat, the meat must be thoroughly permeated with the fragrance of rice, and the entire dish must be thoroughly permeated with the fragrance of lotus leaf. The seasonings must be thoroughly marinated in, and the ribs and sticky rice must be thoroughly steamed through — only then will it be tender and full of flavor. When it is truly done to perfection, not long after the ribs are served at table, the sticky rice on top will slowly sink down together with the meat.”

Nanny Ge broke into a broad smile: “Many thanks for my lady’s guidance. I am a coarse person — I only hope that my lady will not think me unfit.”

“Whether you are coarse or not is of no consequence.” Minglan lifted a teacup for a light sip, rinsing the taste from her mouth, her movements elegantly measured. “The kitchen is an important place. I am now entrusting the cooking quarters for my personal use to you, and I only ask that you apply yourself wholeheartedly and not be negligent.”

Nanny Ge smiled and bowed repeatedly. Minglan continued: “I have nothing else to say, except one thing: cleanliness. The food must be clean, the staff must be clean, and the accounts must be clean. In particular, regarding what the master and I eat — if anything goes amiss, do not come to me with excuses and explanations. I will make an example of you first!”

Minglan’s expression grew cold and grave. Nanny Ge put on a display of devoted loyalty and pledged her word in a voice so loud it nearly shook the door frame off its hinges.

“Very well, go now. I’ll assign you a few matrons and maids to assist you. This dish is good — make another portion for the master to try this evening.” Minglan waved her hand, and Nanny Ge retreated with repeated bows.

Once Nanny Ge had gone far enough, Xiaotao came forward to serve Minglan’s meal, saying under her breath: “She’s very fat.” Minglan laughed: “Cooks have always been this way — even if they don’t eat fatty food, the oil smoke fumes them into fatness.”

“Still, her cooking is quite good,” Xiaotao said, eyeing the sticky rice ribs with considerable longing. “No matter what dish my lady mentions, she can cook it about right.”

Seeing that no one else was nearby, Minglan switched to a fresh pair of chopsticks and tucked a piece of sticky rice rib into Xiaotao’s mouth, saying with a smile: “The now-fallen Duke Lingguo’s residence was famously known for its extravagant indulgence. She has a straightforward temperament and no patience for cooking the books alongside others, so she was squeezed out and sent down to the lower kitchen. Right now I don’t have anyone better, so I’ll make use of her for now — either way, her whole family is in my hands.”

Xiaotao ate with her mouth full of fragrant bliss, speaking muffled words: “My lady, don’t worry. Before long, Elder Sister Cuiwei will be coming up from Jinling. Once she arrives, you’ll have a capable hand, and those old troublemakers will have nothing to grumble about!”

“The days really do pass quickly — it feels as though her wedding was just yesterday, and now she’s a mother herself.” Minglan thought of Cuiwei, and her gaze drifted for a long moment into the distance. Then she collected herself and said: “Where did we leave off with those things the other day? Go ahead and continue.”

At this, Xiaotao immediately perked up with enthusiasm. She had a naturally honest and guileless appearance, which made many people willing to talk to her — and often without their guard up — so she frequently managed to collect a great deal of gossip. When it came to gathering information, there was truly no one who could surpass her. Over these past two days she had been in frequent contact with the people from those four households and had gathered quite a bit of news about the Ningyuan Marquisate.

“Nanny Hua is a household-born servant of the Gu family. She has a direct temperament, but she was still willing to speak when I asked her — though she said very little and was not willing to speak ill of the master’s family behind their backs. Nanny Tian was much more talkative. Before I even opened my mouth, she was already chatting away and telling me everything — though even she spoke very… tactfully. The other two, however, were not very willing to say much at all.” Xiaotao made her report while Minglan held her chopsticks and ate slowly, listening carefully.

“That’s fine. I’ve assigned duties today — after some time passes, there may well be those who have more to say. Just tell me what I asked you to find out about.”

“Oh, right.” Xiaotao hurried to collect her thoughts. “First, Gong Yiniang. She is not of the ordinary maidservant background. She was originally the daughter of a scholar, with some distant kinship connection to the family of the First Wife of the Yu household. When her family fell into hardship she went to seek refuge with the Yu family. It is said that she served as a maid to Lady Yu, but they were in truth as close as sisters — they even shared a character in their names. Later, Lady Yu arranged for her to be elevated to the position of Yiniang — all this was told by Nanny Hua.”

“And what did Nanny Tian say?” Minglan asked with interest, resting her chopsticks against her bowl.

Xiaotao recounted it with faithful accuracy, her expression lively with excitement: “Nanny Tian said she didn’t know about the rest of it, only that after Lady Yu went outside and caused a scene, the master came home to the residence demanding to repudiate his wife. After the old Marquis suppressed that, Gong Yiniang was then elevated to Yiniang.”

Minglan gave a quiet “oh” — so Yan Hong had tried to have Man Niang and her child sold off; Gu Tingye had become furious; and so Yan Hong had offered Gong Hong Xiao as a means of compensation.

Xiaotao’s legs were growing sore from standing, and Minglan kindly pulled her down to sit nearby. She continued: “After that, the master left the capital. Lady Yu was also gone. The other people in the household all dispersed, but only this Gong Yiniang and a woman called Qiu Niang stayed behind, saying they would wait for the master to return. The old Marchioness gave them a small courtyard to live in.”

Minglan listened quietly, a subtle flicker passing through her eyes. She had taken note of this long ago — the fate of those women who had been taken into a man’s bed but never reached a proper conclusion.

Generally speaking, if the master was kind-hearted, he would provide a generous dowry and arrange for the woman to marry someone else — honest and reliable, if not especially prestigious: either a manservant or page boy from the household, or a farmer or tradesman from outside. There was also the theater, of course, as in the case of Jiang Yuhan.

If the master was cold and callous, or if the woman had fallen into disgrace by committing some offense, then her fate was far less certain.

Gong Hong Xiao was a clever woman. As for Qiu Niang — perhaps she was simply deeply devoted. Minglan smiled to herself, faintly.

“Then the matter of Rong Jie’er.” Xiaotao saw that Minglan’s expression remained serene and pressed on. “She was brought into the Ningyuan Marquisate just a couple of years ago. At that time, the old Marquis had just passed away and the master had already left the capital. The Marchioness and the Lady were kind-hearted and kept her on. She was originally kept close to the Marchioness, it is said as a companion for Xian Jie’er. About a year ago, the Lady suddenly had Gong Yiniang and Qiu Niang take charge of Rong Jie’er, and her food, clothing, and monthly allowances were all brought in line with those of Xian Jie’er. All this was according to Nanny Hua.”

Minglan smiled again. This Nanny Hua was quite an interesting person — very telling in how she chose her words.

“Oh, there are also matters about the other households.” Xiaotao’s throat was growing dry from talking, and Minglan smilingly ladled her a bowl of soup as an encouragement. “That Fifth Elder — he truly does not care for Tingyang’s wife. This daughter-in-law was betrothed before birth — she was the daughter of one of the Fifth Master’s friends from their examination year. She had been a household manager’s daughter, which was respectable enough, but more than ten years ago her family ran into trouble, lost their official position, and had a substantial portion of their assets confiscated. After that, the Fifth Elder no longer wished to go through with the marriage.”

Minglan returned the empty bowl and said with a smile: “I understand — it must have been the Fifth Master who insisted on keeping faith, and so the marriage went ahead.”

Xiaotao raised a big thumbs up: “My lady is so clever!”

Minglan pressed her lips together and shook her head. Such a marriage was no easy thing. Even after the bride had entered the household and given birth to a son, the Fifth Elder still could not warm to her.

“The Fifth Master actually holds Tingyang’s wife in considerable regard. On several occasions when Tingyang had gotten himself into trouble outside, it was only after she went on her knees and begged the Fifth Master that he relented and let things pass. Still, though Tingyang himself is not much to speak of, his eldest son by Tingyang’s wife is said to be excellent — studious, understanding of proper conduct, very well-regarded by several of his teachers.” Xiaotao squeezed out the last drop of what she had memorized.

Minglan cradled her rice bowl, suppressing a smile with her chopsticks — behind every scoundrel of a father, there almost always stood a successful son. Lord Almighty, let us hope the reverse of this principle does not also hold true.