“Something this serious — why didn’t you come and report it to me?!” Minglan turned back and demanded in a low voice.

“I did report it.” Qinsang was frightened and said quietly: “When the Master left, he entrusted the outer courtyard affairs to Master Gongsun. The Master said this matter was urgent, so he sent Gu Quan ahead to the camp to report it to the Master, and then to report it to you. But that evening, young Gu Quan came back with a message: the Master had given instructions that you were busy, and he did not want these matters to trouble you. Only this reply was sent to the Marquis household — that His Majesty’s inspection was a matter of great importance, the Master was occupied with military duties and could not be spared, and although you were very anxious, there was nothing to be done.”

Minglan felt a knot in her heart ease. This man had a good conscience — he had kept her completely clear of it. It was not for nothing that she had worn herself out serving him, both in and out of bed, these past few days.

Once properly dressed, Minglan had no time to ask Qinsang anything further. She could only hurry after Gu Tingye out the door. They had just passed through two ornamental gates and were walking along a narrow white-stone path edged with deep jade-green and vivid red, when they saw Rong Jie’er standing at the far end of the path, head bowed, lost in thought, one small foot tracing circles on the ground. At her side stood only a young maid who kept urging her to go back inside.

The moment Rong Jie’er saw Gu Tingye and Minglan approaching, she shrank back and pressed herself against the tree shadow. Gu Tingye paused slightly; seeing her still looking as slight and timid as ever, he could not help but knit his brows. He then looked up and said in a measured tone: “Why are you out here? If you have time to spare, spend it practicing your characters. Don’t go wandering around outside.”

Minglan saw Rong Jie’er’s body give a slight flinch, and her expression darken with gloom. She quickly said gently: “The afternoon sun is at its most intense now — your father is worried you might get sunburned. Your father and I have some business right now; you go back to your room first, and come to my room tonight to talk.”

Rong Jie’er kept her small face deeply averted, and said not a word.

Gu Tingye’s brow was set in a troubled line; he wasn’t sure what to say. He said “mm” and walked on ahead. Minglan turned and gave Danju a look, then hurried after Gu Tingye.

Danju understood Minglan’s meaning at once and stepped forward to take Rong Jie’er’s small hand with a smile. “When the Master and Madam went to the mountains this time, they thought of Rong Jie’er the whole time and brought back all sorts of things for her — two little white rabbits the size of a palm, a songbird that can sing, and lots of good fruit to eat…”

Just as Minglan and Gu Tingye were about to disappear around the corner, Rong Jie’er suddenly lifted her head very quickly and stared intently in their direction.

Danju saw this, gave a quiet sigh, crouched down in front of Rong Jie’er, and said in an even gentler tone: “Jie’er — these past two weeks, the Master and Madam went to take care of something important. Otherwise they would not have left Jie’er. Jie’er might show the Master the characters she’s been practicing these past few days — when the Master sees how much Jie’er has improved, who knows how pleased he’ll be…”

Before she could finish, Rong Jie’er suddenly pushed Danju away and ran off in a flash. Danju slowly rose to her feet and sighed. “After all, he is her birth father. She still thinks of him in the end. Only — one wonders whether she has any regard for all the Madam’s care these past days.”

Luzhi came to stand beside Danju, pressed her lips together and said: “Fed and clothed properly, with someone checking on her health five times a day — if a maid shows half a measure of neglect, she’s sent away that very moment. Madam has done everything she could. Yet all this time, she barely manages even a grudging ‘Madam’ when she calls her. When all is said and done, she is nothing but a…” — suddenly recalling Minglan’s temperament and the household rules, she quickly bit her lip.

As they spoke, husband and wife had already left one after another in soft-carried palanquins, heading toward the Ningyuan Marquis household. The moment they arrived at the gate and before even dismounting, Minglan could already sense the cold desolation about the place. Gu Tingye descended first, and through the palanquin door said in a low voice: “Whatever happens later, say nothing — only follow my lead and agree with what I say.” Minglan was already on edge; hearing this was exactly what she wanted. She agreed at once.

All the way to the inner formal gate, only two ordinary-looking serving women had come out to receive them. Nanny Xiang stood there, neck craned in waiting; the moment she saw the two of them arrive, she hurriedly ushered them inside.

“Second Master, Second Madam — everyone is waiting in the Xuanning Hall. Please follow me.”

Minglan felt momentarily awkward, checked her step, and continued walking behind the “Second” Master.

As they moved further inside, silence pressed in from all sides. The human presence grew sparse. Along the narrow paths, fallen leaves and dead twigs lay in scattered drifts; the pond surface was matted with yellowing duckweed. Minglan felt more and more the weight of deep, penetrating desolation. Over generations, the capable servants and those who had managed to save some money — whether they had run off on their own or been purchased free by their families — had already gone. Those who remained were uneasy and afraid, dreading becoming entangled in the master’s troubles; at any moment they might be sold off or exiled along with the household. With minds like that, who had the heart to keep the grounds tended?

Minglan’s heart was uneasy. She stole a glance at Gu Tingye’s refined profile — and saw that his expression was entirely composed, his stride broad and unhurried.

They reached Xuanning Hall, where quite a number of people had already gathered inside. Except for the ailing Gu Tingyu, who could not leave his bed, virtually every member of the senior male generation bearing the “Ting” designation was present. At the head seat sat the Madam; below her sat the Fourth Master and Fifth Master with their respective wives. Below them the male family members of each branch were arranged by birth order. Behind the carved redwood screen partition on the side of the main hall sat several female relatives.

The moment Gu Tingye arrived, they all rose in a flurry of greetings.

“Second Brother is here! Now all will be well.”

“Second Brother Ye is finally here — everyone can stop worrying. It’s all right now!”

“Second Brother — you absolutely must help this time. We’re all counting on you!”

Gu Tingye showed not the slightest impatience. He returned the greetings of each of his brothers in turn with a composed and affable manner. Minglan moved to the inner side, where five sisters-in-law were already seated — six in total including herself, two from each branch. Their expressions were not quite pleasant, yet they did not dare chatter amongst themselves, and could only communicate by eye. Zhu Shi of the Ting Xuan household seemed to want to say something to Minglan; her lips moved slightly, then she said nothing.

The Ting Xuan wife — Xuan Da — was the steadiest of the group. She smiled and pulled Minglan to sit beside her. “I hear you’ve been out at the estates outside the capital this while, sorting things out. How did it go? Was everything all right?”

“So they say — Ting Ye’s few estates are enormous. Managing them must not have been easy. If there’s anything you ever need that’s beyond your capacity, Second Sister-in-law, I happen to have a few capable people to spare — years of service, their backgrounds all well-known.” Ting Di’s wife — Di Er — smiled as she said this.

“Thank you both for your kind concern. I’ll take that offer to heart, Second Sister-in-law Di. I may well come asking for those people one of these days.” Minglan smiled and gave a slight bow; Di Er returned a satisfied smile.

When Old Master Gu had originally divided the family property, each branch was supposed to have its own holdings. But the Fifth Master had always fancied himself a man of culture and refinement, and his wife was of the same self-proclaimed elegant disposition. Neither was suited to managing practical affairs. The eldest son Gu Tingyang was a man all for show; Ting Yang’s wife was no different — she was like a gourd with its mouth cut off. With that great weight looming over everything, Di Er — who was the one actually managing things — found it difficult to maneuver. As a result, neither their farmland nor their shops were as profitably run as those of the eldest and fourth branches. Over time, with fewer tasks for the household managers, and too many servants for too little work, the profits thin — even without the managers saying a word, their wives and children were inevitably dissatisfied and began to murmur and complain.

Minglan was currently in need of good people, and had long been paying attention to the situation among the Gu household staff, often sending people to inquire about one or two. If she found anyone truly useful, Minglan would not be averse to bringing them over. Heaven knows loyalty never stays constant forever. Finding people with clean backgrounds who were willing and capable was still better than buying strangers from outside — after all, the family’s history went back generations, and at least you knew what you were getting.

But Minglan also didn’t answer directly, and turned the subject with self-deprecating humor: “In the past, Grandmother and the old madam kept urging me to look over the land registers, and every year they made me sit in on the estate managers’ reports. At the time, I only found it tedious — I’d much rather have been reading or doing needlework, something quiet and elegant. Now that I’m the one responsible, I finally understand the trouble our elders went to.”

Xuan Da slapped her own thigh in agreement: “Who doesn’t say the same! When we were girls at home, we had no idea what it meant to be a daughter-in-law — we thought one book of commandments and one embroidery needle would see us through everything.”

Bing Er, unable to contain her impatience any longer, broke in: “Second Sister-in-law is such a busy person — we sent so many people to find you, and couldn’t even get hold of anyone. I ask you: have you or have you not spoken to Second Brother Ting Ye? We’re already in a complete panic here, and you sit there as if you know nothing about it — as if it’s none of your business!”

Minglan very much wanted to say that she truly knew nothing — but Xuan Da immediately came in: “Second Sister-in-law is only a woman; how would she know about affairs outside the house? These past few days one was busy at camp, one was busy at the estate — they probably barely got to exchange a word. Second Sister-in-law wouldn’t have had any chance to look into this. Let’s listen to what the gentlemen have to say.”

The other women agreed on reflection, and hurriedly turned their ears toward the main discussion.

“Ting Ye — what do you say should be done?” The Madam’s voice still carried its usual refined dignity, though now laced with several notes of anxiety.

Gu Tingye turned slightly and said with easy, measured calm: “It is probably just a matter of answering a few questions. Once everything is explained clearly, there will be nothing to worry about.”

The Fourth Master was the most agitated; hearing this lukewarm answer, he said with barely contained resentment: “What kind of talk is that! On that day, Liu Zhengjie led a team of Imperial Guards thundering in like a pack of wolves — they ransacked your elder brother’s study without so much as asking who was who, then confined us to a small courtyard and interrogated us. The whole place was turned upside down, without a shred of courtesy shown. Do they take our Gu household for some common roadside inn?!”

Minglan quietly reflected: if they had shown truly no courtesy at all, the result would have been the same as Molan’s father-in-law and several elder brothers-in-law — taken directly to the Court of Judicial Review for questioning, not interviewed here in their own home.

“Exactly!” The Fifth Master slapped the table with force. “All because he enjoys the Emperor’s favor — he shows such contempt for everyone. That Liu fellow is nothing but a minor official risen from humble origins. And yet he comes and goes as he pleases, even in the home of a family ennobled for meritorious service. It is truly insufferable!”

Then one after another everyone began talking at once, all opening their mouths freely. The sum of it was cursing the officials at the Court of Judicial Review and the Ministry of Justice overseeing this case for being muddled and incompetent and careless in their questioning and sentencing; and condemning the Imperial Guard unit responsible for the arrests for being arrogant and overbearing, with no respect for the dignity of noble and ennobled families. Then came a few sighs over the Gu family’s misfortune. The main point of it all was to stoke Gu Tingye’s sense of shared indignation.

Unfortunately Gu Tingye sat there unmoved, calm and self-contained. When everyone had said roughly what they had to say, he spoke: “That Liu Zhengjie is a trusted intimate of His Majesty — his coming to question you was certainly done with Imperial sanction. As for the officials overseeing this case — they were either appointed by His Majesty himself or are renowned senior officials. Disparaging His Majesty’s close advisors and trusted ministers in this way is rather disrespectful, is it not?”

These words silenced everyone. Gu Tingye slowly moved the wrist resting on the armrest, and said with unhurried ease: “Those at the front — Duke Lingguo’s household and the other ten-odd families — were all implicated with hard evidence, confirmed to have been involved in the ‘Case of the Late Emperor’s Fourth Prince’s Treason.’ They fell long ago. Now the case is still under review. Those who are summoned and questioned for having some peripheral connection — the Yongchang Marquis household, the Yongping Earl’s household, and several other families — those who are found clear of any involvement are released and returned home without further incident. Is our household above being questioned? Why should we be any exception?”

This was a reasonable enough point, and the two Masters were momentarily without any rebuttal. But Gu Tingbing stood up from his seat, and said loudly: “What do you mean ‘some peripheral connection’?! They simply have no ability to build a proper case, so they make trouble for innocent people to look capable! Our Gu family has been loyal and steadfast for generations — we are completely above reproach! Second brother, you now have some standing at the Emperor’s side. Our old Gu household is being bullied to our faces — and you won’t even put in some effort? Are you really going to stand by and let people make a laughingstock of our family?!”

“Since I learned of this matter, I’ve also taken opportunity to inquire about it.” Gu Tingye gave a faint smile. “I’m told the Ministry of Justice has obtained witness statements and physical evidence, which have been repeatedly verified — there are genuine grounds for suspicion. It is only because of this that His Majesty directed someone to come and question the household. Does the elder brother feel this is a laughing matter?”

Gu Tingbing choked on his words.

From behind the screen, Minglan could not help but sigh inwardly: these uncles and older brothers were truly incapable of facing facts until they had their backs against the wall. Even now they were striking noble poses. Did they or did they not understand where the real problem lay?

From the time Gu Tingye had angrily left the household, Gu Tingye and the Gu family had been two entirely separate matters — especially after Old Lord Gu passed away and Gu Tingye’s last point of attachment was gone. During those years when the struggle for succession in the capital was at its most intense, Gu Tingye had been eking out a living in the rivers and lakes on a bowl of broth and noodles a day. Their entanglement in the succession struggle had brought them disaster — what did any of that have to do with Gu Tingye?

Just then there was movement nearby: Bing Er suddenly rose and walked directly up into the main hall, came to stand before Gu Tingye, and begged him tearfully: “Second Brother Ting Ye — I’m only a woman, I know nothing of great affairs. But there’s only one stroke in the character for ‘Gu’ — we’re all one family. Surely you cannot stand aside and do nothing when your uncles and brothers are in trouble!” So saying, she began to weep.

Minglan greatly admired this approach. When it came down to it, a woman’s instinct was sound — never mind reasoned argument, crying and begging with an appeal to emotion was the truly effective way. Indeed: Gu Tingye frowned. He rose and stepped aside to avoid Bing Er’s bow, then turned to the Fourth Master and said: “Perhaps it would be better to have the ladies return to their seats first — this doesn’t conform to proper decorum, does it?”

But the Fourth Master showed no concern at all: “We are all close family — no need to stand on so much ceremony. Your sister-in-law is worried. It is only natural.”

Bing Er wiped her tears and stood respectfully to one side.

The truth was that in the ancient world, women of the inner chambers were not supposed to appear casually before even the male relatives of their husbands’ families — let alone uncles and brothers-in-law from other branches. This was a matter of ritual propriety.

Minglan narrowed her eyes. What did this mean? A combination of pressure and appeals to sentiment?

Gu Tingye raised a slight eyebrow, then said: “Very well then. Since that is how it is, I will speak plainly.” He sat down in a broad, settled manner and spoke out clearly: “The late Emperor’s Fourth Prince was long ago convicted of treason. The chief perpetrators who assisted in the rebellion have all been sentenced. What is now under investigation is the matter of those who supported the rebel faction, those who had close dealings with the rebel prince, and those with any involvement in the treason.”

Emperor Renzong had been soft-hearted his entire life, but before the end — he had finally seen clearly once. To give the ill-fated prince and the Defei some justice, and to smooth the path for the eighth prince’s succession, he had issued an imperial edict officially establishing the fourth prince’s crime of treason.

These words, once spoken, sent a jolt through everyone present. The Fifth Master — who had at least survived the official world long enough to know something — said in a grave voice: “When the late… when the rebel prince was at the height of his power, his dealings with the court were extremely extensive. Surely not all of those who had close dealings with him can be considered as having assisted him?”

“Of course not.” Gu Tingye raised his teacup and took a sip. “His Majesty is a virtuous and enlightened ruler. He has specifically tasked the Ministry of Justice, the Court of Judicial Review, and the Censorate with a joint investigation. The handling of the case would not be reckless. When the rebel prince committed his act of treason, he had the Five Districts Defense Command responding from outside the capital, and several units of the Imperial Guard and Inner Guard cooperating from within. Even in the throne room, there were those who helped forge a false imperial edict — first forcing the Prince to his death, then coercing the late Emperor to abdicate. It was multiple forces acting simultaneously, coordinated inside and out, that produced this great upheaval.”

“Father spent twenty years in the military, more than ten of them on border defense. Though he stepped back from command in his later years, a great many of the men he had promoted and looked after in earlier times eventually rose to positions of some consequence — scattered across various armies and garrisons, most of them holding military posts of one rank or another. What matters now is whether any of these men participated in the rebellion. And whether our household ever helped the rebel prince recruit any of these men. If so, that would constitute the crime of conspiring and colluding in treason.”

Gu Tingye’s gaze was extraordinarily clear and cold as it swept slowly over everyone in the room. Those it passed over felt as if cold water had been poured through them — the charge of assisting the rebellion and winning over loyalists was one that could be interpreted narrowly or broadly. Narrowly, it might mean no more than introducing someone to the Fourth Prince. Broadly, it was possible that certain people had been drawn into the succession struggle precisely because of the Gu family’s connections — without any of the Gu household even being aware.

“This this…” The Madam finally grasped the gravity of the situation. Her voice trembled: “You know your father’s character — he would never do such a thing!”

Gu Tingye made no reply. He continued to sweep the room with his eyes at a measured pace, his voice growing slower and more deliberate, as if each word were a cut: “I was not able to leave the suburban camp, but I did write to Liu Zhengjie. He could not reveal much, but he told me one thing — that at some point in those years, someone had helped the rebel prince purchase several batches of women from Jiangnan.”

“Would that… also count as an offense?” Gu Tingyang, who had been half-absent in attention throughout, asked in alarm.

Gu Tingye set down the teacup and said with equanimity: “These women were subsequently distributed, for the most part, into the households of various court officials and military men — as a means of winning their favor and loyalty.”

The Fifth Master glanced at the Fourth Master and fell into silent thought with bowed head. Gu Tingwei’s expression became unstable; he turned to look at Gu Tingbing beside him — only to see his face drained of all color, large beads of sweat sliding steadily down his forehead.

Minglan was listening with rapt attention when she felt a pinch at her hand. She turned — Xuan Da had a faint expression of cool contempt. She pressed her voice very low and smiled coldly: “The profitable dealings don’t come our way; neither, then, do the criminal ones.”

Minglan smiled blankly and dared not make a sound. Things were now very clear. Old Lord Gu had been cautious and careful — he would not have gone out to make alliances. Gu Tingyu was in poor health — he probably hadn’t the physical energy for scheming. Gu Tingwei had his mother keeping watch — he was likely not too far astray. The others were harder to say.

She had also read several years’ worth of ancient legal codes and had picked up some knowledge by listening to her father and elder brother over the years. Based on what Gu Tingye had just said, even if the charge of complicity were confirmed, the Gu family was after all a founding noble family. With Gu Tingye’s position as well, it was unlikely to end in execution or full military exile. So then — what would the worst case actually look like?

Minglan looked outward. Other than Gu Tingye, who sat composedly drinking his tea, everyone else’s face held some expression — alarm, panic, anxiety — each in its own variety.

For the eldest branch, the greatest fear was naturally being reprimanded for failure to govern the household properly, having property confiscated — including the imperially granted manor estates — or even having the title stripped. For the fourth and fifth branches, their greatest fear was that if guilt were confirmed at an individual level, those individuals might face punishment — corvée labor, imprisonment, or exile — none of it pleasant. So then what did Gu Tingye actually want?

Minglan could not help but look up at the man sitting so composed across the room. Was it simply to watch those who had once treated him with contempt suffer their downfall?

“The second nephew has said a great deal — dragged this all out at such length — perhaps he is simply looking for a way to wash his hands of it!” The Fifth Master clenched his teeth and fixed his gaze squarely on Gu Tingye. “You mean to sit back and watch your own uncles and brothers suffer! Give us a straight answer — are you going to help or not?”

“Fifth Uncle should also give a straight answer. What I have described just now — is there truly any such collusion involved?” Gu Tingye replied at his leisure.

The Fifth Master was stopped cold. He could neither deny it — for he could not be certain — nor could he bring himself to admit it openly, lest Gu Tingye take the opportunity to deliver a lecture on loyalty to the Emperor. He was a man who still cared about his reputation.

The Fourth Master’s wife, who had not wished to interject, now spoke gently — though if the Fourth Master were in trouble, her daughter’s marriage prospects would suffer as well: “Ting Ye, no one is without fault. Even if your uncles and brothers made some mistakes, you ought to help them. After all, you are all family.”

Gu Tingye glanced at her and said: “I certainly cannot stand aside.”

Minglan quietly tried to parse this ambiguous reply — and found the topic had circled right back to where it started.

The Fourth Master pulled out a handkerchief, dabbed at the sweat on his forehead, then looked up at Gu Tingye. “Ting Ye, when all’s said and done, our household is down to you as the one who can hold things together. Your elder brother’s health won’t allow him to bear much — the title and the weight of the whole family will need you as the pillar to carry it forward…”

The Madam raised her head sharply and fixed her gaze on the Fourth Master, with barely concealed fury in her eyes.

“Fourth Uncle, mind what you say!” Gu Tingye immediately let his expression harden. He said with sober gravity: “Seniority and hierarchy must be observed in their proper order. To say such things is to upend the ancestral laws of the household and damage the bonds between brothers. Fourth Uncle should not have said this!”

The Fourth Master retreated with an awkward look.

Minglan frowned. The Fourth Master had been far too transparent — one might call it shameless, really. And they still hadn’t managed to figure out what Gu Tingye actually had in mind. He wasn’t seeking the title for its own sake — he wanted to swallow an affront, to honor his mother who had died young, to reclaim the dignity of all those years of humiliation. From that angle, the fourth and fifth branches were in truth more contemptible than the rest.

“Ting Ye — won’t you say something?” The Madam, seeing things were going awry, asked him directly. “How exactly should this matter be resolved?”

Gu Tingye looked at her anxious expression and said slowly: “If the investigation finds nothing, that is the best outcome. If it does…” He gave a helpless smile and said no more.

The Fifth Master fixed his gaze coldly on Gu Tingye. His voice was icy: “I want nothing more than for the Gu family to come through this safely — for every member of the Gu household to walk away unscathed!”

— How magnanimous, for a “nothing more.” Minglan remarked inwardly.

Gu Tingye looked back at him calmly, his voice like cool water from a deep spring: “If you wanted safety, you should have thought of that then. Fifth Uncle need not lose his temper. If I, Gu Tingye, had never returned — were still absent to this day — what would Fifth Uncle have done?”

Everyone in the hall felt a jolt through them. When Gu Tingye had left the household all those years ago, as the ailing old lord lay at his bedside surrounded by family, the Fourth Master and Fifth Master had offered this comfort: Just treat it as though the Gu family never had this grandson!

No one could speak. The Madam began to weep: “Ting Ye — it was all my fault. You were made to suffer injustice then, and I know you have grievances in your heart. Whatever anger you have — direct it all at me. It was I who failed to look after you. I let you leave carrying such bitterness…”

After all, she was a step-mother, and even her weeping was not altogether becoming. Minglan considered whether she ought to step in and offer some comfort.

Gu Tingye had already risen and gone to support the Madam. He spoke in a gentle tone: “Even if matters arise, I will naturally go about making arrangements to address them.”

“Can it be resolved without incident?” The Madam would not let it rest.

Gu Tingye said simply: “At this point nothing is yet clear. It is difficult to say.”

At that, the matter was concluded. He had already given his word that he would help — what more could be said? Those present looked at one another, all at an impasse; Gu Tingye today had been entirely impervious to both hard pressure and soft appeals.

“However,” Gu Tingye gave a faint smile and let his gaze travel over everyone in the room, “I cannot promise much else — but at the very least, I will ensure everyone’s lives are kept safe.”

These words, spoken with unmistakable layers of meaning, left not a few hearts quietly startled.