On the way to Ningyuan Marquis Mansion, Minglan’s heart was uneasy. This was rather like refusing to lend someone money in their hour of desperate need, and then showing up at their door to watch the spectacle — with several members of the household already arrested and hauled away, the two of them arriving so openly and grandly like this, there was every chance they might be set upon. Minglan looked at her own slight frame, then nudged the curtain open a sliver to look at Gu Tingye riding on horseback in front of the litter — tall of build, powerful and poised as a crane or a praying mantis.
Minglan put down the curtain with a feeling of reassurance. This man, at least, projected an enormous sense of security.
Xuan Ning Hall was smothered in gloom. Everyone in the Gu household had gathered.
Gu Tingyu, his face pale, sat in the seat of highest honor. Madam Shao stood at his side, looking stricken with worry, holding a bowl of something she was helping him to drink. Below them sat the various wives of the household, their faces a portrait of collective distress. The men and women were ranged separately on either side, and everyone sat in heavy, formal silence — lending the room something of the air of a gang convening in council.
The Fourth Elder sat in a low-profile manner, cup in hand, head bowed in private thought. Bing’er the Second’s appearance was alarming — eyes swollen red, jaw clenched, her gaze filled with murderous resentment as she glared daggers at the Fifth Branch wives across from her. Ding’er the Second had long since mastered the art of keeping her head down and enduring anything — she sat quietly, doing just that. But the Fifth Elder’s wife and the wife of Gu Tingdi were visibly made deeply uncomfortable by that daggers-drawn gaze. Xuan’er the First and Zhu Shi sat together; Zhu Shi’s face was stricken with grief, and she leaned against Xuan’er the First, weeping quietly while the latter held her and spoke low, comforting words.
On the opposite side sat the Gu household men. The Fourth Branch had only Gu Tingxuan. The Fifth Branch had both the father and the sons. Their faces were sunken and solemn.
In this large hall, with so many people, there was almost no sound — only a faint, pervasive smell of medicine drifting through the air, mingling with the desolate stillness of the courtyard outside. Ningyuan Marquis Mansion, once full of bustling carriages and the heady fragrance of powdered and jeweled visitors, felt emptier and more forlorn by the moment. A sense of desolation that was difficult to name seeped quietly into the bones — until at last Gu Tingye and Minglan took their seats. Even then, no one in the hall spoke.
Everyone was watching Gu Tingyu at the head of the room, as though waiting for him to speak. But at this moment, Gu Tingyu’s breath had grown labored; he was coughing in low, persistent spasms. Madam Shao was in an agony of anxiety, attending to him as he drank his medicine slowly. Since no one else was speaking, Gu Tingye had no intention of being the first to open his mouth. He sat looking with an air of calm composure at the pink enamel teacup in his hand, one painted with willows and the moon, the lid turned over and resting on the rim, its soft sound of quiet clinking against the porcelain repeating gently.
After sitting down, Minglan glanced at Zhu Shi beside her and was startled by what she saw — a haggard, waxy-complexioned face, both cheekbones slightly prominent, the cheeks a little swollen. Minglan still remembered the freshness and loveliness Zhu Shi had once possessed. Without sufficient composure to pretend she hadn’t noticed, she couldn’t help saying, “Don’t worry yourself so much — you cannot afford to let your health go like this. When he returns, what will he think?”
Zhu Shi’s eyes filled at once. She choked out, “What if he cannot come back?”
And with that, she buried her face against Xuan’er the First’s shoulder and sobbed softly. Xuan’er the First patted her gently while saying to Minglan in a lowered voice, “You don’t know — just the day before yesterday, a physician came and determined that she is two months along.”
Minglan felt an awkward pang; in this setting, she was not sure whether she should offer congratulations or not. She mumbled something along the lines of “I’ll send over some nourishing medicines.”
Before she had even finished, Zhu Shi suddenly pulled herself out of Xuan’er the First’s arms and rose up, struggling to kneel: “I beg Second Brother’s pardon — whatever came before, he — he is still Second Brother’s own blood brother by the same mother! How can you watch without doing anything? All I can think of is what he must be going through in that terrible place…”
Gu Tingye seemed to have anticipated this. He leaned forward slightly and said, “Sister-in-law, there is no need to distress yourself. The day I learned of this, I went directly to the Court of Judicial Review to make inquiries.”
“And what did they say?” The First Elder’s wife, who had been sitting with head bowed until that moment, now raised it, asking with sudden urgency.
Gu Tingye inclined his head respectfully and replied, “It is not a serious matter. The issue is only some correspondence sent from another source — correspondence bearing the imperial edict seal and the official stamp of Ningyuan Marquis.”
This was enough to startle even Madam Shao, who had been wholly focused on helping her husband with his medicine. She asked in a trembling voice, “The seal? But — no, that cannot be. These past few years, your elder brother has been bedridden with illness — simply walking about the garden is a great difficulty for him. How could he possibly…” She caught herself, leaving the sentence unfinished. Her eyes had already shifted to the First Elder’s wife, and her lips would not stop trembling.
Gu Tingyu forced down his breathlessness and raised his head. His gaze met Gu Tingye’s directly — steady, sharp, full of life. His heart surged with a burst of furious resentment, which only made his coughing worse.
Gu Tingye withdrew his gaze and continued, “After the officials of the Court of Judicial Review questioned the matter thoroughly, they learned that Elder Brother had been recuperating from illness these past years, and that all general household affairs had been managed by Second Brother. It was on that basis that they summoned Second Brother for questioning.”
Zhu Shi listened with a dazed expression. “Then — he — “
“Several of the accused have given accounts that do not match, and a few, hoping to reduce their own charges, have been dragging others into things in a very roundabout way. But I have already given word, and several of the officials are men who have spent their entire careers in criminal investigations — their judgment is discerning. Once things have been examined clearly, all will be well.”
Gu Tingye spoke slowly. “Sister-in-law may set her mind at ease. As long as Second Brother was not deeply involved in the matter, it is no more than a case of ‘carelessness’ or ‘overstepping through proximity’ — it does not rise to the level of forming a faction for personal gain. A charge of that kind carries no serious consequences.”
Zhu Shi stopped weeping, but her expression was vacant and lost. The First Elder’s wife, however, had heard the implication in his words, and pressed anxiously, “What about the penalty that does come? Could it mean exile? Forced conscription to the military?”
Gu Tingye frowned slightly. “That… would depend on what the investigation uncovers.”
The First Elder’s wife bore her gaze into Gu Tingye, but found him a rock-solid wall, immovable. She fell back against her seat, suddenly looking every year of her age, her mind in turmoil.
Bing’er the Second had been gritting her teeth throughout. Now, having heard enough, she shot to her feet, stepped forward, and pointed at the Fifth Branch father and sons — her voice sharp and piercing. “You! All of you! Tingwei was only helping his elder brother manage some household affairs — and only people within our own family would know that. How did the Court of Judicial Review come to know? It must have been you — so afraid to die that you dragged Tingwei into it too!”
In her fury, strands of hair had come loose, and her eyes were vicious — she looked ready to spring forward and take a bite out of the Fifth Branch father and sons.
Minglan did not agree with her reasoning. Since Gu Tingwei had acted on behalf of his elder brother, he had inevitably had dealings with people outside the household — exchanges and interactions were unavoidable, and quite a few people on the outside likely already knew. It was by no means certain to have been the Fifth Branch father who had let it out.
The Fifth Master had not recovered his former vitality; he had been listless and subdued throughout. Hearing this, he only puffed his sparse, scraggly beard and said nothing for a long while. It was the Fifth Elder’s wife who spoke up, scolding sharply: “Daughter-in-law! Not another word! Is this how one addresses one’s elders?”
“Elders! Ha!” Bing’er the Second was beside herself with desperation, growing more violent by the moment — crying and cursing at once. “When it truly mattered, each and every one of you only knew how to protect yourselves! My husband merely handled a couple of matters in secret for that traitorous prince — and those were things done generations ago. How would anyone outside know it was a Gu household member? You were all so terrified of being implicated — every single one of you opened your mouths and poured everything out! Yes, my husband was the one who did the deed. But who was drinking and feasting in that prince’s mansion? Did any of you miss a single visit?!”
“You impudent woman! You twist everything!” Gu Tingyang slammed the table and at last raised his voice in answer.
He had been maintaining a perfect forty-five-degree profile since entering the room. Now that he turned, Minglan could see clearly — a distinct gash of dried blood along one side of his cheek.
“That traitorous prince never had any particular regard for your husband — it was he himself who went scrambling and fawning to get close, and fought for the privilege of running errands. Now that the evidence has been uncovered, what does any of that have to do with us?!”
Bing’er the Second’s face went a furious, suffocated purple. She fired back in a rage. “And you had no part in those errands? Don’t those two little seductresses in your quarters — weren’t they procured right alongside the rest of it? If anything happens to my husband, I will personally go to the Court of Judicial Review and expose every last thing about all of you! A fight to the finish, where no one comes out clean!”
Minglan lowered her head and worked at smoothing the folds of her skirt. Now she understood: though the Gu brothers were all cut from the same cloth, there were distinctions of grade. Gu Tingyang and Gu Tingdi, being legitimate sons, had access to the traitorous prince’s mansion for open banquets and social visits. Gu Tingbing, being born of a concubine, would inevitably have been looked down upon somewhat by the prince’s household — but that did not stop Gu Tingbing from burning with fervent enthusiasm, scrambling to make himself useful through covert assignments in service of the cause.
So it was clear as day: the Fifth Branch father and sons, being more openly involved, were the first to be arrested and questioned — while the Fourth Branch father and son, operating in the shadows, were taken into custody later.
Bing’er the Second, her mind now running to the nightmare of being left entirely without backing — her mother’s family was nothing more than an ordinary prosperous household — gave way entirely, weeping louder and more violently, stamping her feet against the ground with fist pounding her chest, crying and wailing that she could not go on living —
At this spectacle of full-scale breakdown in the middle of the hall, the room dissolved into chaos. Some tried to console her, others scolded, others rushed to hold her up. A great commotion ensued.
“Enough!”
The First Elder’s wife finally raised her authority and spoke in a sharp, raised voice. “Was it for this that I summoned you here today? We are all family. This matter will be resolved — but everyone sit down first!”
Gu Tingxuan, the only Fourth Branch member present, was burning with anxiety — both his father and his brothers had been taken. “That is exactly right. Let us all speak calmly! Sister-in-law, please sit down first!”
After a long while, the hall finally quieted. The Fifth Master’s face was flushed with suppressed anger. He said brusquely, “Nephew — it was you who summoned us here today. Whatever you have to say, say it quickly, so we can all go back. Are we supposed to just sit here and absorb everyone’s indignation?”
His manner was none too polite. Madam Shao, watching her husband — a thin shell of bones — felt the injustice of it keenly, and shot the Fifth Master a furious glance. Gu Tingyu gathered himself with great effort and finally spoke: “Quite right. I do have something to say.”
His eyes, ringed with red, fixed directly on Gu Tingye.
“Elder Brother, please speak.” Gu Tingye turned toward him, his posture perfectly deferential.
Gu Tingyu’s discolored lips trembled. He held up the frame of a man worn to the bone and stared at Gu Tingye with intense fixity. “I have only one thing to ask you: with the power and position you command today — if you were to commit yourself wholeheartedly to pulling the Gu family out of this — could you do it?”
Minglan thought inwardly: that is astute. That is the question that cuts right to the heart of it. After all, they share the same father. He is not so far beneath Tingye.
Gu Tingye held his elder brother’s gaze and said nothing. The two brothers looked at each other in silence. Then Gu Tingyu gave a short, bitter laugh — an expression of desolation — and continued to look at him directly: “You could do it. It would perhaps be enormously difficult — requiring you to call in favors on all sides, to spend your goodwill with colleagues one by one, perhaps even to petition to the throne itself… But you could do it. Am I not right?”
Gu Tingye’s brows rose slightly. Still not a word.
The First Elder’s wife and the Fifth Master both opened their mouths at once, wanting to speak — but Gu Tingyu raised a hand to stop them. He stared at Gu Tingye and continued: “But on what grounds would you go and petition the Emperor, calling in debts from every colleague you know? For our sake? For those of us who wronged you, humiliated you — and drove you out of your own home?”
These words made the Fifth Master laugh awkwardly. “Nephew — what are you saying? We are all family…”
Gu Tingyu cut him off impatiently; his laughter held nothing but bitter mockery. “Fifth Uncle, I would ask you to think a little more clearly about this. Do you imagine that just because you do not raise the past, and I do not raise the past, it can be as though it never happened? Why was it that within mere days of his new wife entering the household, she was already at war with Second Brother? Because someone was diligent in sending reports. And why did things only escalate further from there? Because someone was there giving her the courage to carry on. Am I wrong?”
Several of the women in the hall suddenly found great interest in the floor before them.
Gu Tingyu looked over his assembled uncles and brothers with something close to a smile. “And later — why did Second Brother find even the capital city impossible to remain in, until he left home and wandered for years without returning? And at Father’s passing — who was it who barred the doors to prevent Second Brother from entering the mourning hall to pay his respects?”
Gu Tingye’s expression did not change. But the hand resting on the armrest of his chair gradually curled into a fist.
The Fifth Master looked aside and said nothing. Gu Tingxuan’s expression was touched with shame. Gu Tingdi shot an uneasy glance at Gu Tingye. Gu Tingyang set his jaw and raised his voice. “You speak as though you had no part in it whatsoever? Did you not — “
“Correct!” Gu Tingyu’s cold laugh rang out. His face, skin stretched tight over prominent bones, made those high cheekbones look somewhat fearsome. “I had a part in it! A very large part! And I have no intention of distancing myself from that!”
The First Elder’s wife, seeing how tense things had become, quickly said, “Ah… Tingyu, what is the point of dredging all this up? Even tongues and teeth have their quarrels — in the end, we are all family…”
“Fourth Aunt believes that with one or two anecdotes and a bit of vagueness, all of this can simply be passed over?” Gu Tingyu said — but his eyes were on the Fifth Master, his gaze thick with contempt.
The Fourth Elder, already lacking much ground to stand on, fell immediately silent.
The Fifth Master was about to speak, then found he could not, and let it go. Gu Tingyu drew a slow breath. “Fifth Uncle, the two aunts — do you truly believe that the Second Brother of today is the same Second Brother of the past? Do you suppose that a few sharp words, or a few pleasant ones, will make him fall meekly into line?” His gaze swept the room, and finally came to rest on Gu Tingye.
Gu Tingye gave a small smile. He relaxed his grip, and in an unhurried, graceful motion, reached for the teacup on the low table beside him, raised it to his lips, and sipped. Then, still without saying a single word, he settled both hands on his knees and sat at composed ease, waiting.
Gu Tingyu felt a bitter mirth rise in his chest. Fine composure. He has indeed long since ceased to be the same man he once was.
He turned his gaze back to the gathered assembly and, word by deliberate word, spoke: “If you want help from someone you have wronged — show some backbone. Do not imagine you can brush past it with a performance. Say what needs to be said plainly, and let everyone’s minds be clear.”
Minglan looked at Gu Tingyu with puzzlement. Given the principle that the final boss always makes the last entrance, Gu Tingyu was not likely to have summoned everyone merely to confess or weep. He must have something more decisive in hand. What was it?
Gu Tingyu’s fingers were thin and desiccated as kindling. He appeared to be trying to take something from his sleeve, but his wrists shook badly. Madam Shao swallowed her tears and helped her husband retrieve several scorched envelopes from inside his sleeve — three in all, the wax seals already broken, with the white of paper faintly visible within.
The effort of speaking had apparently cost him a great deal; Gu Tingyu was now gasping for breath and sank back in his seat, motioning to his wife to pass the letters to Gu Tingye. Madam Shao walked forward several steps and placed the envelopes into Gu Tingye’s hands.
At the sight of those letters, several of the elder members present went visibly pale with shock. The Fifth Elder’s wife lost her composure and blurted out, “Those letters — you still haven’t — ” She caught herself immediately and pressed her lips together.
Gu Tingye gave her a measured look, inclined his head to Madam Shao, and then simply drew out the letters, unfolded them, and read quickly. From Minglan’s angle, the contents were invisible — but she watched as something shifted dramatically in Gu Tingye’s expression, and his fingers began to tremble slightly. He finished one letter, then immediately took up the other two and read on, as though each line struck him deeper than the last.
Minglan looked at him in great astonishment, then turned to look at Xuan’er the First — and saw that she too wore an expression of complete bewilderment.
Gu Tingyu, watching all of this, spoke in a low, hoarse voice: “These letters were written by Father in the final period before his death. There are three in total — all identical — sent separately to three clan uncles in Jinling and in our ancestral home. This was something he told no one, concealing it from absolutely everyone.”
He gathered his breath and continued in one effort: “Within them, it is stated that when Second Brother’s birth mother, the late Bai Furen, entered the Gu household upon her marriage, she brought with her a dowry: to the south, ninety mu of first-grade paddy fields, five units of shopfront properties and land in Yuhuang, and thirty-one thousand taels of silver held in deposit at Tong Hui Bank. Upon Father’s death, regardless of whether the household was formally divided or not, all of these funds, fields, and properties were to be given first to his second son, Gu Tingye. Father’s letter further stated that these three clan uncles were to read the letter aloud — in the presence of all clan members and family friends — in the mourning hall.”
Several of the women in the room — including Zhu Shi and Xuan’er the First — had never heard a word of this, and sat in stunned, open-mouthed silence. Bing’er the Second seemed to have known something of it; she drew quietly to one side. Minglan too was so astonished she found herself speechless; she quickly turned to look at Gu Tingye, only to find him sitting utterly still, as though turned to stone — silent and motionless, only the fingers holding the letters trembling very slightly.
The hall fell into perfect silence. A pin could have been heard dropping.
The Fourth Elder and the First Elder’s wife wore expressions of deep shame. The Fifth Master and his wife averted their eyes from those around them, turning their faces aside.
“And afterward?” After a long silence, Gu Tingye finally spoke, his voice carrying up from somewhere deep and still, like an echo in a mountain ravine.
Gu Tingyu gave a cold laugh. “Before Father’s death, the Great Uncle of the Ninth Branch had happened to fall and injure his leg on an outing, and could not recover quickly enough to come to the funeral rites. He sent two of his sons in his place. They were young, and at a drinking occasion they let slip a word or two — which someone managed to coax out of them. It was in that way that we learned these three letters existed. That very night, we gathered among ourselves and applied every kind of pressure until we pried the letters out of the clan uncles’ hands. The matter was buried.”
His voice carried not a trace of guilt or exculpation. It was unclear whether he was mocking others, or mocking himself.
The First Elder’s wife was quietly weeping. “I said from the start that this was wrong — those were Old Marquis’s final wishes. How could we go against them? But you all insisted…” She sighed deeply.
The Fifth Master shot her a fierce glance. The Fourth Elder let out a soft, quiet sigh.
Gu Tingye sat with his head bowed, his thoughts somewhere far away, his gaze fixed blankly on the carved frame of the display cabinet — layer upon layer of intricate overlapping woodwork in a deep green lacquer, with a row of solemn little white marble guardian beasts at the base. The day was drawing toward evening; light filtered through the thin bamboo blinds in threads, laying a brilliant film of gold over every table and shelf and rack in the room.
Ningyuan Marquis Mansion had many of these small stone beasts — one in every room, in every hall. He remembered when he was four or five years old, he had wanted desperately to go outside every day. His father, losing patience after scolding him several times to no effect, had finally tried to appease him: “When you have counted every stone beast in the house, you may go out to play.” He had actually crouched down his small body and gone through them one by one.
Day after day he counted, and no matter how many he counted, he never reached the end — yet he refused to believe it was impossible, and stubbornly insisted on finishing the count. His uncles and brothers laughed at him — “dull and foolish” — but his father had only looked at him and sighed softly, saying nothing, only reaching out to stroke his head gently. The thick callus at the base of his father’s thumb had scraped against his skin, and he had twisted away.
The memory was hazy. He could barely recall his father’s expression then — something like gladness, something like grief.
“This is — ” Madam Shao had known none of this; her only concern at this moment was her husband’s condition, and seeing Gu Tingyu’s smile looking more like weeping than smiling, all while coughing and struggling for breath, she could not hold back and tried to intervene. “Second Brother — please do not misunderstand. I imagine the elders must have been looking after this inheritance on your behalf, afraid that if you came into it too young, you might spend it carelessly…”
Gu Tingye snapped out of his reverie. His gaze was clear and still as cold spring water. Madam Shao could no longer continue.
“In that case, I must truly express my deepest gratitude to my uncles, aunts, and brothers.”
He smiled with an air of lofty composure; the pride and bitter fury in his tone were plain even to Madam Shao.
Every person in the hall felt the weight of unease and fear settle over them. The women exchanged silent glances among themselves. The Fifth Master sat with a sunken face and said nothing. Gu Tingyang glared at Gu Tingyu in furious disbelief — cursing that consumptive wretch internally for dragging all of this into the open. Was this not adding fire to an already blazing situation?
Let alone offering help — it would be a mercy if Gu Tingye did not come down on them with two feet from above.
A wave of anger rose through Minglan, one surge after another, straight into her chest. She could no longer maintain the mild, agreeable expression she had been keeping — she sat stiffly, face impassive. These rotten scoundrels — no, wait. If they were rotten scoundrels, then so was her husband.
“Has Elder Brother finished what he wished to say?” Gu Tingye’s fury surged within him; he had no desire to continue looking at these faces. Without sparing a glance for Bing’er the Second or the First Elder’s wife, he rose to his feet, his face without expression. “If so — I will take my leave.”
“Wait.”
Gu Tingyu called out hoarsely, forcing his voice louder. His pale face had gone somewhat blue. He struggled to rise; Madam Shao moved quickly to help him.
“I have not finished. Come with me now — there is somewhere I need to take you. Once you have been there, whatever you wish to do — it is entirely up to you.”