During the ten-day New Year holiday, with the official seal set aside, Gu Tingye was also able to rest for several days. Aside from the necessary visits to pay respects for the New Year, he stayed entirely within the mansion, passing the days in laughter and idle conversation. Even during quiet moments, he could sit and gaze at Minglan’s still-flat belly for half a day at a stretch. Unfortunately, memorials had piled up like a mountain and could not be set aside. Yet the study was cold and desolate — how could it compare to the warm, cozy fragrance of the inner chambers? And so Gu Tingye, true to his nature, moved his ink and draft memorials into the inner room. With the warm brazier glowing cheerfully and laughter filling the air, one truly forgot the toil of paperwork, and the place made it impossible to want to leave.
Gongsun Baishi could not help but sigh once again over how tender feelings between a man and a woman could diminish a hero’s spirit. He was sorely tempted to roll up his sleeves and dash off a splendid poem on the spot — but the weather was bitter cold, with water turning to ice outside, so he decided against it. Better not to bare his arms and end up with a bad case of chronic joint pain in his old age.
Gu Tingye sat at the writing desk, absorbed in reading his memorials with focused attention. Minglan reclined sideways on the long couch reading a book, wrapped in a thick, soft fur blanket. Now and then she raised her head, and he noticed her brow furrowed slightly, as though she had let out a quiet sigh. He rose and went to sit beside her, asking softly, “Does the New Year feel too quiet for you?” He imagined that back in her family’s home, she would have had her father, mother, brothers, and sisters all gathered together in lively celebration.
Minglan nodded. “In past years around this time, we sisters would be keeping Grandmother company playing mahjong.”
Gu Tingye tried to picture the solemn and dignified Sheng Lao playing mahjong and found it rather amusing. He asked casually, “How well do you play?”
Minglan answered very smoothly: “Aside from Nanny Fang and one other, hardly anyone in the household could beat me.” — That is, if Molan didn’t play dumb and if Rulan didn’t cheat.
Gu Tingye laughed. “You play leaf cards quite well?”
Minglan shook her head. “Fairly well, but not the best.”
“Then what are you best at? Backgammon? Dice chess?”
“Dominoes.” Minglan said this with no small amount of pride. In a game of dominoes, she could win Rulan down to her last pair of trousers.
Gu Tingye gazed at her steadily for a moment, his expression rather strange. Minglan felt a little nervous under his stare and said quietly, “Grandmother always scolded me about it — she told me to practice needlework more. I don’t actually gamble much.” Heaven knows she had always held a very favorable view of the gambling industry.
Gu Tingye rose and went back to his writing desk. He pulled open a small hidden compartment at the bottom of a document box, felt around for something inside, then casually poured the leftover tea from a teacup into the brush-washing bowl and walked straight over to sit in front of Minglan. Before Minglan had any idea what was happening, she watched as he held a porcelain bowl level in his left hand, then gave a light flick of his right. There came a crisp clatter of fine bone china, and inside the teacup a large die went rolling and tumbling — until it came to a stop with six vivid red dots facing squarely upward. A perfect roll — a complete sweep and a full house!
“Well?” Gu Tingye elegantly drew back his wrist and smoothed his sleeve cuff.
Minglan’s mouth fell open. She was stunned speechless for a moment, then slowly shifted her gaze to the man, her eyes filled entirely with reverence and admiration — truly the terror of the capital in his day, and the reputation had not been earned for nothing! She desperately wanted to cry out: Second Uncle, I’m following you from now on!
“H-how did you do that?” Minglan stammered, unable to contain her excitement. She grabbed the die and gently weighed it in her palm, her heart pounding wildly. Gu Tingye leaned in slightly toward her face, then slowly pinched up a die and said in a low voice, “Does Madam wish to learn?” Minglan nodded enthusiastically — one can never have too many skills, after all.
But Gu Tingye suddenly turned stern, his voice flat: “No.” He stood and walked back to his writing desk. “You wouldn’t want to teach bad habits to the child.”
Minglan watched helplessly as he tucked the die back into the hidden compartment, and protested indignantly, “Then why do you keep the die on you?!” Surely not just to take it out now and then to practice. Gu Tingye glanced at Minglan, then took out another die and placed it on the writing desk with the single dot facing toward her: “It was pleasant to look at — I originally meant to give it to you as a toy.”
The die was slightly larger than an ordinary bone die, inlaid with white jade and gold-edged dots of cinnabar, and was so exquisite and beautiful that it seemed more like a prized decorative object than a gambling implement. Most striking of all, the single dot was set with a red gemstone roughly the size of a mung bean. Minglan stared at that vivid, brilliant crimson dot, and seemed to think of something. Sweetness flooded her heart, and warmth and tenderness washed over her. After a moment, she lowered her head and said softly, “…I am the same.” She felt rather embarrassed, her ears burning, but she finished the words nonetheless: “Every time you go out, that is how I think of you.”
The man at the writing desk paused his brush and turned his head to look at Minglan. He saw her loosely pinned hair half falling and cascading softly to the side of her face, and her beautiful crescent-moon eyes looking back at him — and his heart felt warm and flooded with light. He softened into a smile without realizing it, yet his brush lingered too long on the page, and the ink spread on the white jade paper, blooming into a pale ink-colored flower amid the bird-and-flower pattern of the fine paper.
After the Lantern Festival, the Emperor began to assert his authority. The court erupted into fierce and extraordinary turmoil — impeachment memorials flew like snow, and torrents of argument flooded the audience halls. Gu Tingye was so busy his feet barely touched the ground, and for several days in a row he could not share a single meal with Minglan. Gongsun, the tutor, went entire nights without sleep and had worn himself haggard and thin, losing no small amount of hair as well. Minglan felt genuinely sorry for the rapidly balding old man and promptly stewed all the nourishing tonics she had more than enough of, sending them to the outer study. The culturally passionate Ruomei naturally insisted on volunteering to make the delivery.
“Can tonics for a pregnant woman be the same as tonics for the brain?” Danju said under her breath — she had always been cautious by nature.
“If they can nourish a baby, they can surely nourish one old man.” Xiaotao had apparently started using classical flourishes, which greatly excited Minglan.
Someone came from the Princess’s mansion to discuss with Madam the wedding date. Both parties were not getting any younger, and sooner was better than later, so the two families decided to hold the happy occasion in the early part of the month. A few more days passed, and once the first lunar month was over, Madam came intending to hand over the household accounts to Minglan. She smiled warmly: “Ordinarily I would not burden you with this responsibility while you are with child, but the physicians who have come to examine you these past few times all say your health is excellent. Now that your younger sister-in-law’s wedding must be arranged, I fear I shall be too occupied to manage…”
That benevolent, smiling face that made Minglan’s eye twitch. She calculated the days — she was already past the first month of her pregnancy, the morning sickness had entirely subsided, her belly had begun to round ever so slightly, she could eat and sleep well, her complexion was healthy and rosy, and every physician who had come to take her pulse said the pregnancy was in excellent condition, with a strong and lively fetal pulse. Minglan decided things looked about right, and so she accepted with a smile, having Danju receive the account tablets and bronze keys, and Xiaotao bring over the box containing the most recent years’ account books.
Minglan quickly said a few pleasant, face-saving words — roughly amounting to “You have labored so hard these past decades; the household has remained this well-ordered entirely thanks to you. Now at last you may think about enjoying your peaceful years and doting on your grandchildren” — going on at great length, and at the very end appended one question: “…Ah, all the bond-servant contracts for everyone in the mansion are in here, are they not?” She pointed to a large black wooden chest on the table.
Madam, who had already grown somewhat dazed and drowsy from listening, was suddenly jolted alert at those words. Her smile remained unchanged: “In recent years, I have not managed things closely.” She then turned to Shao Shi: “What do you say?”
Shao Shi stiffened for a moment, then quickly replied: “Your daughter-in-law knows little of other matters, but when Father passed away that year, aside from yours, mine, and Sister-in-law’s dowry servants, the contracts for all other household members were placed here.” She paused, and seeing Minglan smiling at her, gathered a little more courage and added: “The dowry servants I brought who work in the common household affairs — I have placed their contracts in here as well.”
Madam shot a sideways glance at her.
Minglan smiled, then addressed one of the older female servants standing below: “Are you Peng Shou’s wife?”
The woman immediately replied: “In response to Second Madam, indeed I am.” She was about forty, with a clean, capable face, and when she smiled had rather a fortunate-looking air about her. Minglan raised her voice: “Has Steward Mo arrived?”
From outside the room came a respectful middle-aged male voice at once: “At Madam’s command.”
Minglan nodded and stretched her lazily rounding figure slightly. “That will be all for today. You may all go about your business. If there is anything, come find the two of them later.” The steward outside acknowledged this and withdrew. Peng Shou’s wife, however, shifted her feet to leave but then stopped, her eyes darting a glance in Madam’s direction. She plastered on a wide smile: “This… begging Madam’s pardon — now that the New Year has just passed, there are quite a few matters in the household that have run out, and we await Madam’s direction on how to proceed.”
“You are the head of household affairs — you decide,” Minglan said, her expression utterly languid and indifferent.
At these words, not only did Madam and Shao Shi stare in blank astonishment, but every maidservant and older female servant standing in the room wore identical looks of surprise. Peng Shou’s wife was struck dumb for a moment, then laughed awkwardly: “This… how could a servant like myself presume to make decisions?”
“It has just come out of the New Year. There should not be any major matters in the household, I imagine.” Minglan’s voice remained languid.
Peng Shou’s wife stammered: “No, no… it is all small, trivial things, but I am afraid of handling them incorrectly… oh, I mean, of handling them in a way that does not please Madam. Madam’s person is precious — if I were to displease Madam, would that not be my fault? I have not served Madam before, so this… I dare not act on my own authority.” By the end, her many years as head manager had kicked in, and her words came more fluently.
“In a household like ours, with so many years of established precedent — when have household affairs ever been run according to any individual’s personal preferences? Surely there are house rules and regulations?” Minglan countered, taking the opportunity to cast a sidelong glance at Madam. Beside her, Danju cheered inwardly — the way her young mistress had just delivered that sidelong glance was truly masterful, honed to perfection: a case where silence spoke louder than words.
Madam indeed grew uncomfortable in her seat, her expression displeased. Peng Shou’s wife hastily said: “Of course not, absolutely not — it is entirely this servant’s poor tongue that has misspoken. I only feared that without a superior to guide things, if something should go wrong…” She drew out her words very hesitantly, but Minglan did not deflect at all, and took it up crisply: “Good performance deserves reward; errors naturally deserve punishment.”
The color of Peng Shou’s wife’s face changed at once. Before she could say anything further, Minglan cut off her words and smiled at her: “Sister Peng, you are one of the inner household’s most senior and respected nannies. Your monthly wage is higher than others’, your authority is greater than others’, your standing is more respected than others’ — even when you go outside, your dignity is no less than that of a mistress. I am young — to speak beyond my place for a moment — but given this, there are certain grievances you must simply endure, certain things you must figure out yourself, and certain blame that falls squarely on your shoulders to bear. If not…”
Minglan gestured toward Xiaotao at her side and said with a smile: “This foolish girl of mine has been with me for quite some time now and still refuses to take charge of anything beyond two threads and a teapot. If she were like that, she would be carefree and untroubled — wouldn’t you say that’s about right?”
Sweat began to seep from Peng Shou’s wife’s forehead. In a large, prosperous household, the lady of the house does not personally oversee every matter — instructions are simply passed down through layers. She had only come to test the waters and probe the new mistress, but instead found herself with a pounding heart.
Drowsiness crept up on her again, and Minglan began to feel sleepy. She spoke without much energy, her voice light and drifting: “I have heard that Sister Peng has served here for many years and done her work well. Having once satisfied your previous employers, I trust you will not take advantage of my youth, and will continue to satisfy me in the future.”
Minglan’s face remained perfectly pleasant, but Peng Shou’s wife felt a storm cloud pressing down on her heart. She opened her mouth, unable to get out a word from the heap of things she wanted to say. This was trouble. If she performed well from now on, that was simply expected. But if she performed poorly, it would mean she was intentionally being negligent toward the new mistress. Just doing things right wasn’t enough — she also had to do them in a way that left the new mistress “satisfied.” With that, the matter had no bottom to it. This Madam, it seemed, was not one to be trifled with. If she had known, she would never have opened this line of conversation — bringing trouble on herself for nothing.
She dared say no more, and bowed her head in a deep curtsy to withdraw. Madam had not spoken a word throughout, only watched on with a quiet smile. A few more words were exchanged, then Minglan and Shao Shi rose to take their leave. Watching the two of them walk out side by side, voices drifted back from outside the door, growing gradually fainter.
“Elder Sister-in-law, I have been cooped up inside every day — my very bones have grown lazy.”
“You should take a walk, but the snow has not yet melted and it is still cold outside. Be careful not to catch a chill.” At some point, Shao Shi had apparently grown accustomed to this younger sister-in-law’s coaxing tone, and now responded to it quite naturally. Ever since she had married her sickly husband, she had long been in the habit of looking after others. Her own daughter had always been precocious and given her little to worry about. But Minglan was something like an octopus by nature — she had long clung to and coaxed Sheng Lao, and the moment she encountered this nurturing type of person, she naturally responded in kind. The two of them fell into easy banter, surprisingly well-matched.
“But I still want to walk — I am so bored my bones are aching!”
“Then… how about we take a few turns along the covered walkway…”
Madam’s expression had grown dark and overcast. She sat in silence on the carved daybed, saying not a word, and gave Nanny Xiang a look. The two maidservants standing nearby immediately let down the thick brocade-padded door curtain and went out. “Peng Shou’s wife is truly useless — scared away by just a few words!” Nanny Xiang said in a low voice. Madam still said nothing.
“You… you really handed over all the accounts?” Nanny Xiang ventured again with caution. “I noticed that Second Madam didn’t seem anxious at all.”
Madam brought her hand down sharply on the side table beside her and said in a low, heavy voice: “Of course she isn’t anxious. To catch a snake, you must seize it at the vital point. Before the New Year, her husband had already taken back every profitable business venture in the household. The household’s running silver is entirely in their hands now. Hmph — I refused to hand things over, but if I didn’t hand them over, by the end of the New Year the cash flow in the accounts would soon be exhausted. Would you have me reach into my own purse?!”
Nanny Xiang was silent. After a while she said quietly, “Do you think… Second Madam will investigate the old accounts?”
Only then did a murky smile cross Madam’s face. “I would be delighted if she did. In a household like ours, there is never a shortage of irregularities — to say nothing of all the years when the fourth and fifth branches were here, when the silver in the accounts could never quite be accounted for.”
Nanny Xiang reminded her: “But just now I noticed that Second Madam seemed to pay little attention to those account books. What she was most intent on were the bond-servant contracts — and these past few days she has also been going over and checking the household’s population records repeatedly.”
“Sheng Minglan is clever and composed. After all this, have you ever seen her come out the worse? She has not even gotten particularly angry — she simply goes about living her comfortable days.” Madam leaned back slowly against the pillow behind her. “I don’t know what she is planning, but it will certainly not be simple. Have our people all been put in order?” “Do not worry — it has all been taken care of cleanly.”
With the wedding date set, Gu Tingxuan, who had been entrusted with coordinating everything, also plunged into work. On another front, Madam busied herself assembling Gu Tingcan’s dowry — which had originally been prepared well in advance, but after a certain doting mother had dramatically inflated it and then been forced to dramatically slash it, it now had to be sorted through all over again. Gu Tingxuan had to come and go from the Marquis’s mansion every other day, overseeing tables, chairs, and tea sets, receiving guests and directing servants. After having led the arrangements for Gu Tingyu’s funeral some time before, her competence had already earned even Madam’s recognition. This time it was her beloved daughter’s great day of joy — any servant or maidservant who dared push back or ignore her directions was simply tired of living. With Madam presiding over everything from above, Gu Tingxuan found the work going smoothly to her hand and heart. Moreover, she was well aware of how things stood, and after exercising her authority each time, she would still come to share tea and refreshments with Minglan, sometimes bringing along Shao Shi, and they would all talk and laugh together.
After taking over the household management, Minglan no longer had much leisure to read for pleasure. She applied herself seriously to the work: the account books she had received from Madam she handed directly to two account managers from the Cheng Garden to verify and check, while she herself diligently went through the full chest of bond-servant contracts. Then, organized by rank and level, she summoned a group of people each day after meals to meet with her. She would ask a few offhand questions with a smiling, amiable manner, which made those servants, who had come in anxiously, feel somewhat reassured — their guard lowered — whereupon she, as expected, had Luzhi and Ruomei write up individual personnel records.
Investigating a person’s background from all sides and across multiple generations — it was not as though no one objected to this. The first to clash with it was Steward Mo’s mother, whom everyone in the mansion called Old Nanny Mo. In her youth she had served in the old Marquis’s mother’s chambers and had some standing because of it. When she came of age, she had been matched to a manservant within the household, and through her clever tongue and gift for social maneuvering, she had secured her son a position in the mansion. Steward Mo was diligent and hardworking, and had gradually climbed to become a junior manager. When the old Marquis returned to the capital after his border campaigns and several years had passed, the old head steward stepped down, and Gu Yankai, seeing Mo’s thorough and steady manner, had him take over the post.
“This old woman has spent her whole life in the Gu household — and now, at this age, to be humiliated like this! Even when I served the old Madam, no one ever treated me with such contempt! You lot of little hooves, bullying people by riding on someone else’s authority, coming to interrogate your old mother!” Old Nanny Mo’s cheeks were flushed, as though she had drunk two cups of wine, and she grew increasingly brazen and willful, shouting loudly in the courtyard of the Jia Xi residence. Xia He and the others could not stop her. “Never mind Second Madam — even Madam herself, the First Madam, and the Fourth Master and Fifth Master, out of respect for those who served the old Madam, always greeted me politely and courteously. And now I am subjected to this humiliation…”
In the inner room, Danju trembled with rage and said under her breath: “Madam, let me go out and stop her!” Luzhi gritted her teeth and was about to storm out as well, but Minglan sat calmly at her desk, holding her brush steady and writing out a full-size column of formal script, her expression unchanged by so much as a fraction.
“Luzhi — have someone gag her, bind her hands and feet, and carry her to the side room.”
Luzhi responded with relish and went. Outside, several stout rough-work servants had already been standing ready. Old Nanny Mo was in full roaring momentum, when all at once a group of them surged forward — her hands and feet were bound with soft cotton rope, something foul was stuffed in the corner of her mouth, and she was dragged off into a room. The room had an underfloor heating system, so it was not cold — but aside from four bare walls, there was nothing inside at all.
Along the covered walkway, quite a number of older and younger female servants had already gathered to watch the spectacle. Old Nanny Mo had always been domineering and overbearing; everyone in the household had given her a wide berth out of deference to Steward Mo’s position, and even the mistresses had been somewhat polite to her. Now, apparently egged on by someone, she had actually dared to come and challenge the new mistress publicly. Exchanging even two words with such an unreasonable person would only be laughable — the crowd huddled together, whispering among themselves, all wondering how Minglan would handle this.
Who could have guessed that Minglan would not even show her face. Without ceremony, she had the woman bound and dragged away — and within the space of a moment, the Jia Xi residence was again completely tranquil. The maidservants in the courtyard showed no sign of panic. Aside from a trail of disordered footprints in the snow, it was as though nothing had happened at all. Before the onlookers had even fully registered their astonishment, a round-faced maidservant in a peach-red brocade padded jacket came out and stood under the eaves, smiling broadly and announcing in a clear voice: “Ladies and sisters — if you are feeling cold, please go to the water room for a cup of hot tea to warm yourselves. Once your turn to speak has come, you may return to your own duties.”
The crowd stood dumbfounded, exchanging glances, not knowing what to make of things.
The brazier inside the room was blazing warmly, filling the space with comfortable heat. Minglan remained entirely composed, her brushwork steady, and murmured to herself: “Finding a woman of seventy or eighty years to come stir up trouble — she cannot be beaten, cannot be scolded, cannot be duly punished. It must have taken them no small amount of thought…” She herself was calm, but Danju at her side was absolutely seething.
In the Sheng household, no matter how the mistresses might quarrel and scheme among themselves, this sort of spectacle — where a servant bullied a mistress — had truly been quite rare. Sheng Lao managed the household strictly; not a single servant dared cause mischief. When Wang Shi entered as bride, she had been given full authority and promptly replaced everyone inside and out. Then Lin Yiniang rose to influence — mistress and concubine fought openly and in secret, smoke and fire rolling endlessly — and Sheng Hong, worn out beyond endurance, could only vent his frustration on the servants, and many a head manager and senior female servant had been made a casualty. Those who survived were mostly clear-sighted and sharp, and no one had dared stick their neck out. By the time Hai Shi entered as mistress, the household had been governed with even more exemplary discipline.
“This wretched servant! If only Nanny Fang could see this, she would certainly…” Danju, being gentle-natured, thought and thought but could not come up with anything forceful or devastating enough to say. Minglan smiled, set down her brush, and was not particularly angry — it was not as though she had any imposing kingly aura that made people naturally submit to her. If people did not obey her, what could she do? She could only… well, educate them gradually.
About half an hour later, Steward Mo received word and rushed immediately to kneel before the Jia Xi residence, kowtowing repeatedly in apology. He was not afraid of anything else — with one era comes one set of rulers, and even if this position could not be kept, he only hoped his mistress would allow him to keep his dignity and not bring the entire family crashing down. What he feared most was Minglan reporting the matter to Gu Tingye — he knew that young lord’s temper better than anyone. Whether it was the King of Heaven himself who had offended him, Gu Tingye was capable of anything. Minglan’s voice came through from behind the door curtain, light and gentle: “Steward Mo need not blame himself. Since time immemorial, only mothers have managed their sons — there is no such thing as sons correcting their mothers. I will handle this matter as I see fit. Please rise.”
The words were neither too sharp nor too mild, and Steward Mo could not quite get a read on them. Urged by the senior female servants to leave, he thought to himself that the Madam probably intended to give his old mother a proper lesson — nothing beyond going hungry for a couple of meals, being locked up for one night — and as long as it did not implicate the others, that would be considered lenient.
The very next morning he hurried back to the Jia Xi residence to await word. He watched a neatly dressed maidservant emerge from the inner room, her expression cool and composed, speaking in a measured and refined manner before all gathered in the courtyard: “Yesterday, Old Nanny Mo demonstrated quite remarkable audacity. With every other word she spoke of dignity and respect, she utterly forgot the distinction between mistress and servant — babbling away so carelessly and without restraint. Have you no fear of alarming Madam in her condition?!”
Steward Mo grew anxious and was about to step forward and say something in defense, when the maidservant softened her expression and continued: “It is also understood that Old Nanny Mo had drunk two cups of wine and was not careful with her words — but having known in advance she would be coming to speak before the mistress, how could she dare drink wine even so! A household has its rules, and errors must be punished…” Steward Mo’s heart hung suspended in anxiety. The maidservant then went on: “But Madam is compassionate — firstly, she remembers that Old Nanny Mo once served the late Madam; and secondly, Old Nanny Mo is not young, and it would not be fitting to punish her with beatings or scolding, for fear of causing harm and damaging relations…”
The murmuring among the servants in the courtyard grew louder. People were beginning to think the new Madam was perhaps also afraid of causing trouble, and would likely handle this with great fanfare but little actual consequence. Ruomei’s expression remained neutral as she proceeded to deliver the verdict: “However, Old Nanny Mo’s temperament is truly harmful. A servant speaking to a mistress in such a manner is intolerable, and Steward Mo as her son has no means of correcting her. Madam has therefore stepped in to correct her on your behalf. Yesterday, Old Nanny Mo was sent to the Luosong Nunnery, where she has been asked to fast and pray to the Buddha on behalf of the late Madam, to seek blessings and accumulate merit.”
At these words, Steward Mo was struck dumb, and all the servants around him were equally stunned. What sort of punishment was this? No beating, no scolding. Steward Mo had no grounds to plead for her release — a servant could not invoke filial piety to a mistress. Old Nanny Mo had always been so fond of bringing up the old Madam in every other sentence — and now she had been asked to pray for the old Madam’s blessings. How could she possibly object?
Luosong Nunnery was very much like Tongchu Nunnery — it specifically housed women from respectable families who had committed some wrongdoing, though at a lower level of rank and with stricter, more rigorous management. To live and practice there with one’s hair still intact was no different from being a proper nun: coarse food and simple meals, sweeping and chopping wood, and in the spare time, helping to distribute porridge to the poor. Old Nanny Mo had long been accustomed to rich meats, fine fish, and being waited on hand and foot, with the freedom to strike others and curse her dogs at will. How was she to endure such a bitter, austere existence?
The nuns in the nunnery did not overtly mistreat this woman in her sixties, but they were not permitted to speak a single word to her. If she kicked up a scene, she was locked up until she had calmed down. Old Nanny Mo was as miserable as a cat with claws — her mouth craved food, she felt desperately lonely, and her belly full of anger had no one to vent it on. In just four short days, she was already racked with regret, and very nearly ready to crawl to Minglan and beg on her knees.
Seven or eight days later, Steward Mo brought his old mother home. The neighbors on the same street were absolutely astonished — Old Nanny Mo seemed like a changed person entirely. She had lost a full measure of weight, every trace of her oily complexion was gone, her spirits were still decent, but her speech and manner were remarkably subdued and restrained. When she came back into the mansion, she knelt in the covered walkway outside Minglan’s door and kowtowed several times with a solid thud, speaking in a broken, halting voice, barely daring to breathe.
Minglan’s voice came from behind the door curtain, its tone mild: “Old Nanny, no need for such formalities. You are one of the household’s long-serving elders — how could I accept this?” She paused, then continued at an unhurried pace, “I have been thinking lately… it would be good to find a quiet and peaceful temple or nunnery to light an everlasting lamp for my late grandfather, grandmother, father, and mother, and to supply incense for blessings. It would be best to have someone attend to it regularly — and when it comes to that, an experienced elder really does the job most faithfully…”
Old Nanny Mo was so terrified her soul nearly flew from her body. She would sooner die than return to that place where not a trace of human warmth existed. She could only kowtow more frantically than ever: “It was this old servant whose mind was clouded by greed — I was stirred up by a few words from someone, and I offended Madam. This old servant deserves to die. I swear I will never dare do it again — please, Madam, have mercy and forgive this old servant just this once…!” The Madam inside seemed to smile, and spoke with complete warmth: “Old Nanny is a sensible person, and there are many more sensible people inside and outside this household. Even if Old Nanny does not think of herself, she ought to think of her children and grandchildren, should she not?”
Steward Mo led his old mother away with endless expressions of gratitude, offering her advice in an unbroken stream. Old Nanny Mo stumbled along in a daze: “Son — she won’t remember this grudge and find ways to torment us, will she?”
Steward Mo replied: “This time, Madam only punished Mother. The two girls serving inside, Second Girl and Gou’er, and even Elder Brother and myself — not one of us was touched. That was Madam leaving us our dignity. Mother, please stop letting yourself be stirred up by others in the future. You have had a real taste of suffering this time!”
Old Nanny Mo said fiercely: “When I get back, I will find those wretched women and settle accounts with them!”
Before long, word came that Old Nanny Mo had gone charging at neighbors on both sides of the street, getting into a violent brawl with several wives and daughters-in-law she had been friendly with and often drunk wine with. Old Nanny Mo was robust and stout, and no stranger to fighting — in no time she had smashed quite a few pots and bowls, and many people were left with bloody scratches on their faces.
When Minglan heard of this, she simply smiled and let it pass without further mention. The world is a harsh place — what a clever trick, to harm others from behind a veil. If she had gone too easy on Old Nanny Mo this time, she would not have been able to command respect, making it harder to get others to listen in the future. But if she had gone too hard — Old Nanny Mo’s age and seniority were what they were — whether she had been beaten, scolded, made to kneel, or had the Mo family stripped of their positions, a certain class of self-righteous individuals would surely have stepped forward to make noise.
Things like “Even a cat or dog that belonged to Grandmother is more distinguished than ordinary people” — or “Not even two days in charge of the household and already she has no regard for those who served at the patriarch’s side” — or “The Mo family has always been loyal and diligent; to treat them thus is to chill the hearts of all faithful servants” — and so on and so forth. It would never end. Even if such talk lacked real power to wound, it was still unpleasant enough. And if rumor were to carry any of it beyond the walls, things would become even more lively.
For the first time, Minglan felt a genuine, heartfelt sympathy for the difficulty Gu Tingye had faced in his earlier days. These hidden barbs were truly impossible to guard against entirely.
The phrase Minglan had used — “when it comes to that, an experienced elder really does the job most faithfully” — seemed to have been particularly effective. The personnel investigation work that followed went considerably more smoothly, and even those old-generation hereditary servants who had served across several generations all listened and complied without incident, terrified that the new Madam might take a liking to one of them and invite them to tend an everlasting lamp. The Marquis’s household had existed through multiple generations by this point, and the hereditary servants had reproduced generation by generation as well, intermarrying among themselves on top of that, creating a web of relationships of staggering complexity — not to mention marriages into and out of households from outside. The sheer volume of work was overwhelming, and it took nearly another half-month of busy effort before a rough preliminary outline could be assembled.
Minglan was not in any particular hurry. She took her leisurely daily walks — if the weather was fine, she walked along the covered walkway; if the weather was not, she made several rounds through the main rooms of the central chambers. She did not pursue old accounts; people and affairs continued just as they had, everything proceeding as usual. As the days went by, the household staff of the old Marquis’s mansion, having not been subjected to the expected blaze of a new official’s first fire, and finding Minglan to be pleasant-natured — only more particular about checking the new accounts, but not making things difficult in other ways — gradually settled their hearts. As for the matter of discipline and regulation, before Gu Tingcan’s wedding day, Madam would absolutely not permit any late-night drinking, gambling, or behavior that would bring disgrace on the household. With that towering mountain presiding over things from above, Minglan was happy to take it easy.
“Madam, those accounts…” Danju caught herself and bit her tongue — there were some things she knew could not be said. “Are you just going to let it go like that?” In the bustle of these past few days, she had come to understand that the old accounts did have problems. If something like this had happened in the Sheng household — never mind that Sheng Lao would brook no dishonesty whatsoever, or that Nanny Fang had a whole arsenal of methods at her disposal — even Wang Shi alone could have stripped those embezzlers of their very skins!
“Of course not.” Minglan shot her a glance. There had definitely been corruption — it was only a matter of how much or how little. But the problem wasn’t there. “Let me think it through carefully first. If I am going to act, I need to think everything through properly beforehand — better to strike once and hit the mark, and settle the matter in one blow. Otherwise…” She sighed. “After all, it is all people under one roof. Stirring things up every other day is not a good look.”
“Then why did you take all of this on so early?” Danju muttered. “Better to rest a while longer.”
“If something goes wrong when I can no longer move about freely, that will be truly dire.” Minglan sighed. “Better to take care of it while I still have the strength. The Marquis is having such a hard time right now — I cannot add to his troubles…”
As her understanding deepened, she grew increasingly clear about the state of affairs in the old Marquis’s household, and a rough outline had already taken shape in her mind. In order to handle things efficiently, she went to Gu Tingye and requested a few men who could go outside to gather information and run errands on her behalf.
The Tujia brothers, having come up through the rivers-and-lakes world, were absolutely first-rate at gathering intelligence. With their assistance, Minglan’s progress immediately doubled with half the effort, and she couldn’t help but exclaim that using such men as bodyguards was a genuine waste of talent. After a full month of information-gathering was essentially complete, Minglan’s belly had already rounded into a small round winnowing basket. To exercise both her mind and body at the same time, she often walked back and forth around the room with her hands resting on her belly, and once she had thought something through, she would quickly sit down and draft what, to outside eyes, looked like nothing but strange scrawls and cryptic notes:
“The Marquis of Ningyuan’s household has bond-servants under contract totaling sixteen persons. Among them, household-born servants, not counting gender, total seventy-eight persons; of these, five households are hereditary servants of three or more generations, and the remainder are first- or second-generation descendants of household servants. Among servants acquired through external purchase, twelve have entirely lost contact with their families. Additionally there are…”
“Those who have established assets outside the household include… those who have placed assets under the names of relatives include… the landholdings among these are located in… these several places, and the commercial establishments are in… these several places; it cannot be ruled out that some of these have acquired assets on behalf of their masters…”
“Among family connections, there are… these several persons who are petty officials, and these… several persons who are engaged in trade, and there are also… relatives who serve as servants in other households.”
After writing for some time, Minglan chewed on her brush-handle and fell into thought. One must have a clear objective — what exactly was the outcome she was after? Did she want to sweep out all at once those who had been embezzling the household’s money? Or did she only want to shake the mountain and startle the snake — make a show of force and call it done? Or perhaps carry out a thorough purge and replace them with her own people? Were there traps hidden within all of this? Could she be being set up and outmaneuvered?
Minglan tugged at her own hair and groaned. By nature she was not a person suited for inner-household schemes and battles. Her greatest career ambition from her previous life had been to one day impressively rap a gavel and adjudicate cases, not to sit here racking her brains over how to root out corruption and bring people down. If she had that kind of ability, she would have gotten into the anti-corruption bureau or the procuratorate long ago.
Danju said softly beside her: “Madam, please rest — don’t tire yourself.”
Minglan couldn’t help laughing out loud: “I’m not that delicate.”
So far, her condition was excellent. Apart from occasional leg cramps, she had essentially no other pregnancy symptoms. Gu Tingye had rather self-importantly concluded that this was surely a sensible and filial child. According to the accounts of the older household members, Bai Shi had also had a very smooth and healthy pregnancy when she carried this troublemaker into the world — though the child that came out proceeded to make his old father leap up in fury every five days and bring out the family rod.
After hearing this, Gu Tingye was silent in deep thought for a long while, then suddenly turned and asked: “If our children are disobedient in the future, will you…”
“Beat them — absolutely.” Minglan didn’t even pause to think. Small little rascals needed a couple of smacks to get things to stick in their memories. The Yao Yiyi siblings had been raised just like that — light slaps on the hand, a smack on the backside — and no one had ever seen them develop any lasting psychological issues. They had gone on to study and enter the workforce without any trouble. As long as it wasn’t brutal abuse, mixing discipline with affection and maintaining the right measure was all it took. She added: “As the saying goes, filial children come from the rod.”
The man immediately changed his expression entirely: “Beat what? You yourself were quite the little rascal when you were small — always wading into water to fish and climbing trees to catch birds. Did anyone ever lay a finger on you?! If a child misbehaves, you teach them slowly. Always talking about beating — do you think being a parent is that easy?!”
With that he flicked his sleeve and left, not even staying for his after-dinner cup of tea, leaving Minglan sitting there, utterly stunned, still cradling her teacup.
Zhu Shi’s pregnancy had grown very heavy. On the first day of the month she began to show signs of labor, and the next day she gave birth to a daughter. Madam was somewhat disappointed, but as the senior female servants around her all offered hearty congratulations, adding that “having one son and one daughter is the perfect pair,” she let it go and took the granddaughter in her arms to coo and play with, giving her the name Jing Jie’er. For some reason, the baby girl did not look particularly robust — she was thin and frail, her little arms and legs appearing no more substantial than paper, which made Minglan’s heart clench with apprehension. She didn’t even dare touch her. After saying all manner of auspicious words, she quickly sent over a good supply of nourishing medicines. Zhu Shi was deeply grateful.
It seemed to be a season for daughters. Not many days later, the Sheng family sent someone to pass along news — Rulan had also given birth to a daughter. Minglan was momentarily startled, then smiled and said: “Is Fifth Sister in good health?”
The one who had come to deliver the news was none other than Liu Kun’s wife. She curtsied and replied: “In response to Sixth Young Madam, both mother and daughter are well.” Compared to the time when Minglan had first arrived in this era, she had visibly filled out, and described Rulan’s daughter with a beaming smile — how chubby and sturdy she was, how her cries could shake the rafters.
“Strong and healthy is what matters most. I have prepared some small gold and silver trinkets and some fine soft satin — please take the trouble, Nanny, of delivering them to Fifth Sister on my behalf when you go back. Though… Fifth Sister hasn’t been crying, has she?” Minglan gestured to the small stool beside her, inviting Liu Kun’s wife to sit. Xiaotao brought over a teacup and draped a blanket from the warming rack over her knees.
Coming out in deep winter was a hardship, so to be treated with such warm hospitality was very gratifying to Liu Kun’s wife. Knowing that Minglan and Rulan had been accustomed to teasing and joking with each other since they were small, she felt at ease speaking freely and smiled: “What would Sixth Young Madam say! The old Madam always used to say — first comes the flower, then the fruit. In our family and in First Young Madam’s family alike, a daughter came first, and a son followed after. There is nothing amiss in this. Being in good health is what matters most.” The implication was clear: Rulan and Wang Shi were indeed a little deflated about it.
Minglan smiled inwardly and said: “Grandmother’s words are wise. You have gone to such trouble coming all this way, Nanny.” She handed over the warming hand-stove she had been holding for her guest to warm herself, and said gently: “It is only a pity that I cannot go out at present — I won’t be able to attend my little niece’s one-month celebration or her hundredth day. Please convey my apologies on my behalf.”
Liu Kun’s wife clutched the hand stove, her face wreathed in smiles: “Sixth Young Madam is too formal — we are all family. What apologies are necessary? Once Young Madam has given birth to a fine boy, you can all celebrate together, and won’t that be even more wonderful? Though it is truly a pity that Young Madam cannot come to Feng Ge’er’s wedding.”
“Oh, has Brother’s wedding date been set?”
“It has.” Liu Kun’s wife carefully took a sip of tea and said at a leisurely pace: “Because our future young mistress is the eldest legitimate daughter of her generation in the Liu family, raised since childhood at her grandparents’ knees — we hear she is especially cherished by Old Master and Old Madam Liu. And so, the two elders simply had to travel all the way from their hometown to see their granddaughter married. All this delay and rescheduling, and the date has been fixed for the middle of this month. Ah — one must say the young master is truly fortunate. I wonder how our household’s First Young Master is getting on out there? Every letter that comes only says he is well — it worries us all to no end.”