The first order of business after emerging from confinement was to wash herself from head to toe, and then to bathe twice daily thereafter — wash and wash again. Just thinking about those sweltering summer days, having gone so many days without a proper bath, Minglan immediately felt her scalp crawl. She told Xiaotao to scrub harder, until her skin turned red in patches. Nanny Cui watched with an aching heart — in truth, throughout the confinement period, she had every day wrung out a soft cloth in warm water and carefully wiped Minglan down all over. It wasn’t as though she’d become that foul-smelling, yet here she was, insisting on scrubbing herself raw, as though she wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d rubbed off an entire layer of skin.

The half-person-high bathing tub steamed with heat, crafted from fragrant cedar wood transported from the southwest and bound with fine red copper wire. Minglan stretched out comfortably inside it; the fragrant essence in the water, stirred to vapor by the scalding steam, instantly filled the entire room with perfume. There was still a great deal left of the floral-scented milk lotion bestowed by the palace last time — she hadn’t dared use it while pregnant, for fear it might cause harm, and had saved it all up. Not knowing whether it might have expired, she simply poured it all into the water. Nanny Cui’s mouth twitched again at the sight.

With no dangerous beasts or venomous serpents slumbering at her bedside, Minglan felt more at ease than she ever had before. No more needing to go pay her respects every few days, no more weighing every word before it left her mouth for fear of falling into a trap, no more waking each morning and immediately plotting defense and counterattack. When she thought about it carefully, she and the Madam had actually held no personal grudge against each other — there had been no need for this life-or-death struggle between them. But that old woman, unable to reach her powerful adversary Gu Tongzhi head-on, had simply turned on a fellow woman instead, and so Minglan had instantly become the primary target of disaster — pure collateral damage.

This really was not a pleasant job to hold — Minglan couldn’t help pouring two more bottles of the imperially-crafted floral lotion into the tub. Priceless and impossible to come by elsewhere. Truly satisfying.

Amid the fragrant, misty steam, Nanny Cui was half exasperated and half amused as she wiped Minglan down with clean fine cotton cloth. Her own face had grown terribly gaunt, the wrinkles winding across it like the cedar-wood grain along the edge of the bathing tub. Minglan felt a pang of sadness — Nanny Cui was not young, and this period of exhausting worry had aged her a full ten years. Minglan urged her to go home and rest and recuperate properly, but she refused absolutely, spending her days watching over Tuan Ge’er as though, if she took her eyes off him for a single moment, wolves and villains would come and snatch the child away.

After much persuasion from Danju, Xiaotao, and the others, Minglan deployed her trump card, coaxing Nanny Cui by saying she intended to have seventeen or eighteen more children in the future and would be depending on Nanny Cui to manage them all — only then did Nanny Cui relent.

After her bath, Minglan put on her snow-white silk inner robe and turned back and forth before the half-person-high mirror — large eyes beneath curved brows, cheeks white with a flush of pink, her skin soft and rosy. Thanks to the Madam’s tireless scheming, she had been unable to eat well or sleep soundly, and so had not grown particularly plump; the problem of postpartum weight gain had resolved itself rather quickly. Very good indeed. Minglan was thoroughly satisfied.

Dressed, she walked to the bedside and picked up the child. Looking at Tuan Ge’er’s short, chubby neck with all its little folds of fat, she leaned in and planted an enthusiastic kiss on it with great delight. The little ball of flesh had done very well for himself — he had put all the flesh on his own body and left none whatsoever for his mother.

“Madam, Steward Hao has sent word that Master Craftsman Ding has arrived,” said Luzhi, lifting the curtain and stepping in from outside, announcing in a soft voice.

“Have Steward Hao escort the master craftsman to look at the rooms. You and Liao Yong’s wife go along as well.” Minglan didn’t even look up; the little ball of flesh in her arms was kicking his hands and feet and making gurgling sounds. “Those rooms that were burned — there’s no rush to repair them. What matters first is getting the courtyard ready for my sister-in-law to live in. If I find out anyone has been skimping on the timber, I won’t let it pass.”

With the Madam having moved out, the main hall of the principal residence had been vacated, and by rights Gu Tingye and his wife should have moved in. But the Madam had held power for decades — every brick and stone of those rooms was steeped in the former mistress’s presence. Not only was Minglan unwilling to move into that cold, gloomy old residence, Gu Tingye himself felt a certain wariness about it too. After discussing it between themselves, the couple decided simply to shift the household’s center, having the original Marquis Mansion’s principal rooms thoroughly renovated while using them only as a secondary courtyard.

This meant that Shao Shi and her daughter, who had been occupying rooms near the main residence, would also need to relocate. Whether out of guilt for not having come to help during the fire, or because Xian Jie’er had unexpectedly come into half an inheritance, Shao Shi was remarkably agreeable this time around. Minglan mentioned it only once; Shao Shi thought it over for a night, and by the next day had agreed.

The new residence was situated in the southwest of Chengyuan, with a small lotus pond to the east and a bamboo grove to the west — truly excellent in both scenery and feng shui. Shao Shi had been somewhat reluctant to leave behind the lingering presence of her late husband, but seeing her daughter the moment she laid eyes on the new residence become as lively as a bird released from its cage — one moment pointing here like a little grown-up giving instructions on how things should be arranged, the next dashing off excitedly to visit her new neighbor Rong Jie’er — her own faint sorrow faded away.

In a child’s eyes, the old residence, though imposing and grand, had been gloomy and dim throughout, shadowed by the presence of death ever since she could remember. How could it compare to the new residence with its bright sunshine, every window and door opened to fresh air and birdsong and the fragrance of flowers?

The two of them laughed and played together for a while, and then Tuan Ge’er began to grow drowsy. Minglan rocked him gently and continued giving instructions: “Send over that tortoiseshell folding screen with the Suzhou embroidery that the Fu family sent last time. Rong Jie’er has one, so Xian Jie’er must have one too. Danju, go tell the servants attending my sister-in-law that whatever furnishings or decorative items are lacking, they may simply fetch them from the storeroom.”

She spoke one sentence and Danju acknowledged each one. Luzhi couldn’t help smiling: “Listen to the Madam — Danju has already gone and said all that long ago. It’s just that the first young mistress is so careful, she only says everything is more than sufficient.”

Shao Shi was fairly easy to get along with — the type who wouldn’t help but rarely caused trouble either. She had moments of melancholy self-pity, but rarely expressed them in ways that made others uncomfortable. Besides, the woman was a widow — was she supposed to be cheerful and jubilant every single day? In any case, Minglan had no intention of becoming close friends with her; as long as they maintained polite civility toward each other and kept up appearances, that would do perfectly well.

“Also, tell Master Craftsman Ding — now that the household is small but the grounds are large, the empty spaces make the place feel desolate. Better to extend the forested area a bit further. Plant a few groves of bamboo, grow some bamboo shoots and mushrooms, and set aside one separate plot — I want to build a greenhouse. My sister-in-law will certainly love it. And have the garden behind the original Marquis Mansion enclosed as well — we can raise some deer, rabbits, and pheasants in there later, which will liven up the place.”

Minglan had thought all this up the previous night. When Gu Tingye heard it he found it refreshingly novel and readily agreed. Truth be told, as far as Minglan was concerned, with a residence this large and so much open land, and so many idle hands available, they could easily partition off plots to grow vegetables to feed the entire household — but that would look improper and undignified, so she could only settle for cultivating mushrooms and wild game, which would both enrich the kitchen and reduce some unnecessary expenditure.

“With all these gardens and groves throughout the estate, the fencing and interior walls must be built solid and secure. Tell Master Craftsman Ding not to spare the effort — do the work well, and I will always reward generously.”

Luzhi smiled and acknowledged everything one by one, still not daring to raise her voice for fear of startling Tuan Ge’er, then turned and lifted the curtain lightly and went out.

With her formidable adversary gone, Minglan had grown entirely languid. Looking down at the little ball of flesh in her arms, who was already fast asleep and oblivious to the world, she somehow let out a yawn herself. She’d only been up a short while, had only attended to a few matters, and yet she was already thinking about her pillow again. Minglan had always been lenient with others and was naturally even more lenient with herself — she immediately stopped struggling against it, and carried the child off for a little nap.

By the time Gu Tingye returned from court, he came back to find his beloved wife and child sleeping head to head. Gazing at those two faces of similar fair complexion, his heart softened completely. These past few days Tuan Ge’er had grown a little bigger and, when he fussed, made quite an effort of it — Minglan, mindful of the child, hadn’t been sleeping soundly at night. Right now she was sleeping soundly at last. But the little ball of flesh beside her had slept his fill — at some unknown point he had already woken and was lying there with his round eyes wandering all about. The moment he caught sight of his father, his gaze fixed in place, and he began making little babbling sounds.

The wet nurse nearby said with quiet delight: “The young master can recognize people now.”

Gu Tingye was pleased as well. He leaned down and carefully lifted the swaddled bundle, feeling certain his son was the finest-looking infant in all the world — he couldn’t look at him enough, and kissed and kissed that little face.

“You rascal!” Gu Tingye laughed and scolded. Tuan Ge’er might not yet have filled out much, but his strength was nothing to scoff at — he actually kicked both legs inside his swaddling. “This little one really has some force to him.” Gripping him a little more firmly, Gu Tingye lifted the child up and down a couple of times; Tuan Ge’er was immediately delighted and burst into giggles. That commotion woke Minglan. She rubbed her eyes, still half-dazed: “The Marquis is back — how is it so early today?”

Gu Tingye smiled: “I didn’t mean to disturb you, but it’s time for the midday meal — you had better get up.”

Minglan glanced out the window, saw that the sun was already nearly directly overhead, and her face went red at once. She felt rather embarrassed with herself — why had she been like a slugabed lately, never able to sleep enough? Gu Tingye hadn’t noticed any of this; he was only looking at the red string tied around the child’s small arms and legs and frowning. He sat down on the edge of the bed and said to Minglan: “Why is he bound up like this?” It wasn’t as though they were capturing a criminal.

Minglan wasn’t entirely certain herself, and could only explain: “It was Nanny Cui’s suggestion — all of us siblings were done this way when we were small. This is only the small binding; when he gets a bit bigger there’ll be a large binding too. My eldest brother was tended by Nanny Cui when he was little.” Her best guess was that it was to prevent bow-legs, or to keep tiny hands from disappearing up into the sleeves.

Gu Tingye thought of Sheng Changbai’s upright, stately bearing — like a tall pine, steady and distinguished — and immediately felt considerably more confidence in Nanny Cui. Then he looked at Tuan Ge’er, whose brows and temperament were so very much like his own, and though it pleased him greatly, he couldn’t help but worry aloud: “They say a nephew takes after his maternal uncle. If he could be like your eldest brother, that would be best of all.” He had always admired the Sheng family’s eldest maternal uncle; even Changfeng, who was somewhat weak-willed, and Changdong, who was honest and diligent, were at least proper and earnest young men who listened to their elders. Nothing like himself — from the moment he could walk, he had been nothing short of a heaven-scaling, earth-burrowing disaster who never met a calamity he didn’t cause.

Tuan Ge’er’s soft little mouth was moving in the faint suckling motion of a nursing animal, rooting away — but his parents were talking and paid him no mind whatsoever. He let out a protesting little cry and began to wail with real effort. The wet nurse had long been standing ready, and stepped forward with a smile: “At this hour the young master is likely hungry — allow this servant to take him downstairs and see to him.”

He was crying, but not a single tear fell — just his little face flushed red with indignant frustration. Gu Tingye watched with amusement, smiling as he handed the child over. Watching the stout, round-faced wet nurse turn and carry the child away, Minglan sighed softly: “This little one eats far too much — it takes two wet nurses to keep up with him. If he’d been born into an ordinary family, they’d have eaten themselves into poverty.”

Gu Tingye was in the process of loosening the collar of his court robe, and laughed: “Being able to eat well and sleep well is the greatest blessing — and here you are complaining. Zhong’s boy, when he was born, couldn’t keep anything down, and even now that he’s bigger he’s always ailing. Zhong has been worried sick over it.”

The mention of this subject reminded him of something else. His voice turned grave: “That wicked woman was truly vicious in her heart — she wouldn’t even spare a tiny infant. It’s a good thing the Old Madam was sharp — otherwise things could only have gone badly.”

Minglan was draping her inner robe over herself and stepping down from the bed. She stood and helped Gu Tingye out of his formal robes and unclasped his jade belt, saying as she did so: “That’s all in the past now — don’t think about such filthy matters anymore. Are we not perfectly fine as things stand?”

Some months ago, when Minglan had begun selecting a wet nurse, Nanny Cui had as usual served as her informant. When the Old Madam learned of this, she was overcome without explanation by a vague unease, and instructed Nanny Fang to quietly search for candidates on her own. On several of the Sheng family’s farms, there happened to be wives who had recently given birth; two of them had abundant milk, gentle natures, and steady dispositions. Once the selections were made, the Old Madam said not a word about it, merely telling Minglan to keep making her own search for a wet nurse as a decoy. Two days after Minglan gave birth, the Old Madam sent the two wet nurses over, along with their indenture contracts. The candidates Minglan had chosen herself were dismissed entirely — given some reward money and sent on their way.

At the time Minglan had thought the Old Madam was being overcautious, and had only gone along with her wishes out of filial deference. But when Gu Tingye subsequently conducted a thorough investigation inside and outside the household, he discovered that the two women Minglan had originally selected did indeed have something suspicious about them that defied clear explanation.

One wet nurse was the wife of a servant slave bestowed by the palace — on the surface, she bore no conceivable connection to the Madam. Yet when her background was dug up root and branch, it emerged that her former husband and child, with whom she had long since lost contact, had reappeared — and had been quietly settled in the countryside by someone. The shadowy hand behind this act of “generous assistance” pointed indirectly toward the Madam’s personal attendant, the minor steward Little Chen.

The other was a good woman found from outside, a decent family background. Nanny Cui and Nanny Chang had checked her over and over, and by every measure found nothing amiss. The family themselves were straightforward and honest — having received their earnest payment, they were determined to serve well, and often prepared milk-promoting foods for the wife. Around that time, new neighbors happened to move in next door, extremely friendly people who kept a good number of chickens and ducks themselves, and whose relatives had a fish pond — and so they regularly supplied carp, silver carp, chicken, and duck to the wet nurse’s family at discounted prices. Being able to nourish her body while saving money, the wet nurse’s family was naturally happy to accept.

By the time Minglan gave birth, that wet nurse had been eating the neighbors’ chickens, ducks, and fish for nearly two months. A few days before the birth, Nanny Chang suddenly sent word that the wet nurse and her mother-in-law had both fallen seriously ill — high fevers that would not break, rashes all over their bodies, and convulsions. Minglan sent the second Tuo to go and investigate; everything else checked out without issue. The only thing that could be considered suspicious was the food supplied by the neighbors.

Of course, by then those neighbors had long since moved away without a trace.

When Minglan heard all of this, she felt a chill wash over her entire body, a cold that rose from the depths of her heart. It had to have been a slow-acting poison — undetectable when first consumed, only manifesting once it had accumulated to a sufficient quantity in the body. If this was what it did to grown adults, then what would happen to a newborn infant who nursed from the milk of a poisoned woman?

That old sorceress had truly planned with meticulous precision and with the most vicious of intentions. Whether or not she could destroy Minglan herself, she had never intended to spare the child.

Fortunately, the wet nurse’s family was very devoted to their elders — whatever good food came in, they gave it first and foremost to the wet nurse herself and to her mother-in-law who had always been frail, and the children and husband in the household had not been affected. Minglan felt genuinely terrible about it, and sent people to fetch a physician and also sent a considerable sum of money over, hoping only that they could pull through.

Gu Tingye still burned with deep hatred, and said coldly: “Heaven’s justice will come — retribution is certain.”

He felt like tearing the Madam apart with his bare hands right now, and regretted somewhat that he had been too generous at the time of the household division. “It’s a good thing the Old Madam was a move ahead of everyone else — otherwise…” He simply dared not imagine Tuan Ge’er’s little body burning with fever and convulsing.

Minglan bowed her head over the sash she was untying and said it would be false to claim she felt no anger — yet what she felt far more than anger was gratitude. Gratitude to heaven for giving her such a good grandmother. Gratitude to heaven for not allowing that old sorceress to succeed. Gratitude to heaven that her little ball of flesh was now so healthy and lively, eating well and sleeping well.

The Old Madam had even issued stern warnings to the two wet nurses she had sent: if they served well, she would have the indenture contracts of their entire families transferred to them, letting the whole family come to the Marquis Mansion and live comfortably. If anything went wrong, she would sell every member of their families off to the harshest circumstances, not sparing a single one. How could they possibly not behave themselves, or dare to be anything less than utterly devoted?

Thinking that it was the Old Madam’s painful experiences in her own youth that had produced such careful foresight and thoroughness today, Minglan felt a bitterness and sorrow well up in her heart. She said quietly: “When we have a chance, let’s open two more porridge stalls — let us hope that good deeds bring good fortune in return.”

Minglan handed the court robe to Xia Zhu, who was waiting nearby: “The Marquis should go wash up first, and then we can have our meal.” Gu Tingye nodded and went directly to the washroom. When he came back out with the sweat and dust rinsed away, he found the dining table already set up inside the room, an ice basin placed in a distant corner. Husband and wife sat down together to eat.

“Even the cicadas have stopped calling — why is it still so hot?” Minglan had always found summer oppressive; she had barely drunk two mouthfuls of soup before fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, her cheeks flushing damp and rosy. Gu Tingye, however, sat utterly still and unbothered, his tan face calm and composed: “This year the heat has dragged on rather longer than usual — let us hope it doesn’t interfere with the harvest taxes.”

Minglan paused, then quickly said: “Should we reduce the tenant farmers’ rent somewhat?” Gu Tingye shook his head, his voice steady: “That’s not yet necessary — let us first see how things develop along the Huai River region. If the salt tax revenue there can be put in order and recovered before year’s end, then everything else will be easy to discuss.”

The entire court, high and low, had its eyes fixed on that single region right now, the maneuvering both open and covert growing intense. Shen Congxing had finally completed his period of reflection and returned to handle court affairs — Gu Tingye breathed a sigh of relief at this, the pressure on him easing considerably. He had no wish to alienate every single established noble and meritorious family all at once. The Emperor was the leading man in this story, but it was only fair to leave the first supporting male some stage time as well.

This topic was growing rather heavy. Gu Tingye changed the subject: “How have things been at home these past few days? If there are any troublesome ones, tell me and I’ll deal with them. You just focus on recovering your strength — don’t wear yourself out.”

Minglan set down her chopsticks and personally ladled a bowl of soup for him. Smiling, she said: “When the great Buddha has been moved away, would the monks still sit chanting sutras in an empty temple? The Marquis need not worry — the old hands in the household are all behaving themselves much better now.”

During the household division, the Madam had taken away a great many servants — either her staunch loyalists or her trusted capable hands. Those left behind were mostly muddleheaded, aging household retainers who not only loved to pull rank on account of their seniority, but forever looked for ways to take advantage of their position and enjoy unearned benefits. Minglan had hit upon the idea of simply clearing out the entire section of the original Marquis Mansion — renovate what needed renovating, deal with what needed dealing with, keeping only a few well-behaved ones to look after the buildings.

With this stroke, all those who had been accustomed to throwing their weight around found themselves suddenly without footing. With no mistress to serve, there were no duties to perform; and without duties, there was no way to go strutting about showing off outside, no way to pocket any advantages.

“If only… there happened to be a general amnesty soon…” Minglan said to herself, biting her chopstick.

Gu Tingye’s eyes flickered, and he raised an eyebrow: “It doesn’t necessarily require waiting for an amnesty — releasing a few of the most unruly families first would likely produce much the same effect.” Minglan looked sheepish: “How did you know…” She did want to release some of them, but feared being called hardhearted, and had been hoping the imperial family or the court would have some occasion for celebration so she could muddy the waters and dispense a lavish show of “benevolence.”

“In a household like ours, there are inevitably some servant families who followed their masters into battle — they’ve risked their lives in service, you might say. A few such families are especially prone to putting on airs, and are quite disagreeable about it.” Gu Tingye smiled faintly. “Find some pretext — whether framed as a bestowal of grace or as punishment for an offense — and deal with one or two families first. The rest will fall into line.”

Minglan understood. The principle that unhurried action yields better results. She nodded: “Then afterward see whether any more rear their heads — and if not, wait for the right opportunity to release the rest all at once.” Even for the work of opening up the gardens and woodlands, raising flowers, cultivating plants, and tending animals that she intended to do later, Minglan had no desire to hand it over casually to just anyone — for all she knew, her dearly beloved former Madam had left behind quite a few carefully embedded thorns among these old retainers.

After the meal, Minglan saw to Gu Tingye’s afternoon nap as usual. She had just woken up herself and felt too embarrassed to lie down again at once, and was about to get up and slip away — but Gu Tingye caught hold of her. His dark hair spread thick and dense across the pillow; the man’s expression was languid, his fingers hooked around the hem of Minglan’s skirt in an earnest invitation for her to join him for the midday nap. Minglan refused with great moral rectitude: “Do you take me for your precious son? Eating and then sleeping just like that.”

Gu Tingye’s smile was ambiguous: “That approach works well — grows more flesh quickly.” What kind of thing was that to say — it sounded like the slogan of a fattening operation. Minglan rolled her eyes and shot back: “Why don’t you go raise pigs? You’d surely make a thriving business of it.” The man buried his face in the pillow, still holding onto Minglan’s hand and pressing it against his cheek, chuckling: “Already am — two of them. Both nice and plump, growing along splendidly.” Minglan wrestled her hand free from the man’s iron grip, set her face, and declared: “I’m going to look in on Tuan Ge’er — I won’t trouble the Marquis and his pig-rearing any further!”

Gu Tingye held on to Minglan and wouldn’t let go. He suddenly raised his head and dropped the smile: “Marrying me — have you ever felt wronged?” Minglan was baffled by the question: “Wronged by what?” Gu Tingye said: “This whole terrible mess nearly got you killed.”

Minglan smiled at once: “A husband governs without, a wife governs within — the affairs of this household are my proper responsibility. What is there to feel wronged about?” It wasn’t as though she’d married into a family that had bled her dry just to provide a house and a carriage, then expected her to suffer abuse from a mother-in-law and sister-in-law, and on top of that take care of the husband’s whole extended family.

“In households with many mouths, a daughter-in-law must manage parents-in-law, sisters-in-law, uncles, nephews — four or five layers of relatives all living together, calculating endlessly, bickering back and forth, never a moment’s peace. Heaven’s way is compensatory — since heaven has given me an easier lot in this regard, it naturally had to make it up to me somewhere else.” Meaning that the Madam, given her level of combat effectiveness, could indeed offset an entire crowd of relatives.

“You take things very much in stride.” Gu Tingye laughed despite himself, then hesitated: “You… don’t resent me?” Minglan sat on the edge of the bed, slowly leaning closer, and said quietly: “I understand what you mean.” It was he who had brought so many life-and-death trials upon her.

“But I understand even more clearly how well you have treated me.” If she was being honest, given the choice between a household full of concubines and their daughters and a sorceress of a stepmother-in-law, she would rather choose to fight the dragon.

Gu Tingye stared at her for a long moment, and then suddenly buried his face in the pillow again, like a child throwing a small tantrum. A muffled voice rose from beneath the pillow: “Stay with me and sleep for a bit — I can’t sleep otherwise.” His hand still held tightly to her and would not let go.

Minglan was at a loss, when a sudden inspiration struck her: “Tuan Ge’er is probably asleep again by now — what if I bring him here and the two of you nap together, father and son? How does that sound?” With a little piglet stationed at the man’s side, she could solve both problems at once, and perhaps enjoy a peaceful afternoon reviewing the accounts.

Gu Tingye laughed out loud again, lifted his head to look at her, the corners of his mouth curved up: “Very well.”

The little ball of flesh was an excellent sleeping companion. Once he dropped off, you could practically carry him away to be roasted over a fire without him knowing; and he was not at all particular about who he slept beside — whoever he was placed with, he slept with. Sometimes when Gu Tingye came home late at night, he would go to the side room and carry the child back with him. Minglan would often fall asleep and then, at some point, find a soft, warm, sweet-smelling little round shape had appeared at her side. If he woke in the middle of the night to be changed, his father would get out of bed and call someone to change his wrappings. If he woke hungry, his mother’s modest supply was just enough to serve as the little ball of flesh’s midnight snack.

Time passed gently; raising a young child was full of trivial demands, yet there was a particular kind of joy in it that settled quietly in the heart.

Once Tuan Ge’er gradually grew able to lift his head, Minglan drew on the knowledge from her previous life and every day had the child lie on his stomach for a few sessions, each about one minute long. The first time Gu Tingye saw his son lying face-down on the soft bedding in the posture of a small puppy, he was badly startled and quickly scooped Tuan Ge’er up, immediately scolding the wet nurse and the nursemaid roundly. Minglan hastily explained all the benefits of tummy time — strengthening neck muscles, promoting brain development and limb coordination, making him quick and clever whether he took to scholarship or martial arts in the future.

The father remained half-convinced, half-skeptical, but seeing his son lying face-down quietly without fussing or crying, he decided to let Minglan carry on with her experiments. Once, in a playful mood, Minglan noticed Gu Tingye lying on his back on the couch reading, and had the idea of positioning Tuan Ge’er carefully on top of him, propped on his stomach.

Gu Tingye’s shoulders were broad, his arms strong, and his chest solid and powerful — the little ball of flesh found it quite stable lying there. One of them didn’t dare move an inch for fear the child might fall, holding completely still with eyes wide and tense; the other lay with his little face set in concentration, working hard at the tummy time effort, straining not to let his large forehead touch down. Father and son sat there facing each other like this, big eyes locked with small eyes. Minglan stood to the side, helpless with laughter.

Before long, the little ball of flesh began to notice something — rising and falling slightly with his father’s breathing chest and belly, he suddenly burst into giggles. His tiny soft body lying so trustingly on top of him, those features that so strongly mirrored his own — Gu Tingye’s heart was utterly full of gladness. He wrapped both arms around the child and laughed out loud.

Minglan felt a sudden ache in her heart. Deep within Gu Tingye, the feelings he held toward his late father had always been complex.

On the very day the Madam moved out, Gu Tingye had carried his son to the ancestral hall. Dismissing everyone else, he stood alone before the late Marquis’s memorial tablet for a very long time. Only when Tuan Ge’er began to cry and fuss in his arms did father and son emerge. The decades of grievances between Gu Tingye and his father had long since dissolved into smoke and dispersed on the wind; with the old man now gone, anything one might say was superfluous.

But it occurred to her — in the old days, when Gu Tingye had just come into the world, Gu Yankai had already been nearly forty. On one side lay the sickly, half-alive elder son Gu Tingyu, and on the other was this hearty, vigorous, healthy, chubby little boy who looked so like himself. What must he have felt in that moment?

He must have been happy, she thought. Surely.

Perhaps he had also held him, kissed Gu Tingye, delighted and proud, just as Gu Tingye now was with Tuan Ge’er. Only in raising one’s own child does one truly understand a parent’s love — life had come full circle, returning to where it began.

One morning, Minglan was lazily leaning against the headboard, playing with the little one, when word was sent in from outside that the younger Shen Shi had come to call. Minglan quickly smoothed her hair, stood up, and went to receive her guest.

The younger Shen Shi had become a frequent visitor during this period. She had developed a great fondness for babies lately, and the little ball of flesh with his round head and round face was indeed enormously endearing. Ever since the full-month banquet, she came every few days — partly to cheer herself up, partly to absorb some of the joyful atmosphere, and she never came empty-handed.

Last time she had brought two large fresh lotus roots; the time before that, a small basket of sweet cherries; the time before that, a tiger-head infant hat with the character for “king” embroidered on it, crooked and uneven, the stitches not especially neat. The younger Shen Shi had fidgeted awkwardly for quite a while before producing it, deeply embarrassed — but Minglan was truly touched, knowing it had been made with genuine affection and sincerity.

But this time when she arrived, the younger Shen Shi’s appearance was all wrong. Not only did she come empty-handed, her eyes were red and swollen, her expression carrying a hidden pain. She sat down without saying a word, gazed at the round plump Tuan Ge’er, stepped forward and picked him up, and then the tears fell, plop after plop. Tuan Ge’er’s little forehead was spattered wet; he lifted his head in bewilderment and stared at the younger Shen Shi without comprehension.

Minglan was greatly alarmed. She immediately sent the wet nurse and Danju to take the child away, then rushed over to help dab at the tears with her handkerchief: “What on earth has happened to you? Oh, don’t just keep crying like this.”

“Has Her Majesty the Empress had some trouble?” This was Minglan’s first thought, but the younger Shen Shi shook her head through her tears.

“Then has your sister-in-law scolded you?” — The younger Shen Shi shook her head again.

“Then… have you quarreled with the young General Zheng… did he hit you?” Minglan’s mind went directly to domestic violence.

The younger Shen Shi let out a surprised laugh through her tears: “What are you talking about? He wouldn’t dare in a thousand years!” Seeing that she had stopped crying, Minglan pressed her quickly: “Then do tell me — what is the matter with you? Just crying like this has my heart in complete disarray.”

The younger Shen Shi sighed deeply, her eyes glistening with tears, and choked out: “My sister-in-law… she… is with child…”

“Your sister-in-law is expecting?” Minglan thought it all rather extraordinary, and was at the same time somewhat envious. “The elder General Zheng and your sister-in-law are truly devoted to each other. But why are you sad about it?”

The younger Shen Shi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry; she jabbed a finger firmly into the back of Minglan’s hand and said with distress: “It is my brother’s wife I mean!”

“The Countess of Weibei?” Minglan paused, then puzzled again: “But even if it’s your brother’s wife, there’s no need for you to cry about it, is there?”

“What do you know!” The younger Shen Shi could no longer hold back her tears and cried out: “She and my brother have had such a cold and distant marriage, and she can still conceive — while I and… yet even now there is still nothing… Heaven is truly blind!”

Minglan sat there in stunned silence after being shouted into both ears.

The younger Shen Shi collapsed onto the table and wept bitterly for a long while. Minglan didn’t know how to comfort her; she only gently stroked her back. It must be said that she had been bottling things up for a long time — Shen Zhang Shi was with child, and she could not be angry about it, could not make a scene; in front of others she would have to put on a look of happiness. Her only elder sister was in the inner palace, impossible to visit without great difficulty. The only place she could come and let it all out was here with Minglan.

Minglan sighed softly and offered a single word of consolation: “Of all the people you could compare yourself to, why choose the Countess of Weibei? Let me ask you just one thing — would you be willing to trade places with her?”

The younger Shen Shi gradually stopped crying, though her shoulders were still shuddering. Minglan continued: “Outside, who doesn’t say you are greatly blessed? You had only just come of age when His Majesty ascended the throne, your elder sister became Empress, your brother is a Marquis, your parents-in-law are kind and gentle, and the young General Zheng adores you like his dearest partner. Only your sister-in-law is somewhat strict — but there is nothing to be said against her character as a person. Whereas your brother’s wife, well… you know what that situation is like…”

It was no secret in the capital that the Marquis of Weibei and his wife had been at odds for years — it was commonly whispered in the streets that Shen, the National Uncle, went an entire month without seeing Zhang Shi even twice, while lavishing his affections on his favored concubine Zou Shi instead.

This unconventional form of consolation proved effective. The younger Shen Shi slowly raised her head, still hiccupping, but her face took on an expression of indignant resentment — like a child digging in her heels — and she burst out in a rapid volley: “It’s not that I’m petty and can’t bear to see others do well. It’s just… hmph, she puts on such airs! I know what it is — she looks down on our Shen family. Her family, the Zhang family of Duke Yingguo, is a distinguished noble house, a founding pillar of the dynasty, and in her eyes marrying my brother as his second wife is the greatest condescension! “

The younger Shen Shi had been crying until her throat was dry; she drained a large mouthful of tea and went on: “Hmph — but has she ever stopped to consider that my brother didn’t come begging for this match? It was the Emperor’s own kind intention! Her Zhang family didn’t dare defy the imperial will, so they took it out on our Shen family instead! Day after day, she wears that dead expression — who is she putting that face on for?”

Having gotten started, the rest came flowing out. “I also know she has no love for the younger Zou girl. She thinks that by my brother elevating this woman to favored concubine, he was undermining her dignity. But that is ultimately a concubine — even if she rose to the top of the sky, could she ever surpass the first wife? These past two years, my brother has been like a man with no wife at all — her door closed, she sees no one, refuses to go anywhere, as though she wanted all the world to know she’s been wronged.”

On this point Minglan had a different opinion, and couldn’t stop herself from interjecting: “That… that can’t quite be said that way. Suppose the young General Zheng had taken a favored concubine just before your wedding — how would you have felt then?”

The younger Shen Shi was brought up short, then said stubbornly: “That’s different — my brother had compelling circumstances.”

Minglan teased: “Every family has compelling circumstances. Hmm, let me think — ah yes. Suppose a great benefactor of the Zheng family came to the door insisting on giving their daughter in marriage to the household, and your parents-in-law couldn’t decline. Then what would you do?”

The younger Shen Shi’s face went bright red, and she choked on the words for a long moment before shouting: “Then I simply wouldn’t have gotten married!”

“But the Countess of Weibei had no choice but to marry in.” Minglan said evenly.

The younger Shen Shi suddenly deflated entirely, like a punctured balloon, and collapsed back in the chair. After a long silence, she said quietly: “Actually… when they first married, my eldest brother also felt he had wronged the Zhang family. At first he truly meant to treat his new wife well — but she was always ice-cold toward him. No matter how gently and kindly he approached her, she never really responded. Last year my little nephew nearly drowned; the Zou girl hurt herself trying to protect him and lost her pregnancy. My eldest brother was genuinely remorseful over it, but she still greeted him with cold words and a cold face…”

Minglan said nothing. It could be surmised that the younger Shen Shi had received no small share of cold treatment from Zhang Shi herself. These past two years, this Zhang Shi had been living like a woman who had taken vows — reciting sutras and keeping to herself, neither managing the Weibei Marquis Mansion’s affairs nor bothering to humor the various acquaintances and relatives, declining most invitations to banquets and social gatherings with excuses of illness, and barely returning to her own family home.

She hadn’t come to Tuan Ge’er’s full-month banquet. It seemed that Zhang Shi was likely a proud and high-spirited daughter of a distinguished family who had been doted on by her parents from childhood — it was understandable that she simply hadn’t been able to come to terms with things in such a short time.

The two of them chatted back and forth for a while, and when Minglan judged the moment was right, she called for a basin of water, personally wrung out a cloth herself, and had the younger Shen Shi wash her face. Then she called Xiaotao to bring out her cosmetic case and helped the younger Shen Shi apply powder and draw her eyebrows.

“This face powder of yours is wonderful — it adheres so well, and the fragrance is lovely, not at all inferior to what comes from the palace.” The younger Shen Shi gazed at herself in the mirror again and again. Minglan smiled: “This isn’t lead powder — it’s a powder made from camellia flowers from Yunnan, mixed with rice powder and pearl powder, along with a number of fragrant ingredients. It was concocted by the idle husband of a girlhood friend of mine.”

Seeing that the younger Shen Shi liked it, she simply had Xiaotao pack up a small box for her to take home — she herself rarely wore powder anyway.

“You’re so young — don’t go applying powder unnecessarily. You’ll end up looking like a little vixen, and then your sister-in-law will definitely give me a cold look next time.” Minglan watched the younger Shen Shi handling that little powder box with such enthusiasm and couldn’t resist the comment.

The younger Shen Shi shot her a glance: “So you’re afraid of my sister-in-law!”

“Your sister-in-law is such a good person — I’ve been envying you for quite a while now!” Minglan deliberately teased. “Let me just ask you this — has your sister-in-law ever raised the matter of an heir with you?”

The younger Shen Shi said quietly: “Never. She just tells me to take good care of myself — it will happen in time.”

The elder branch of the Zheng General’s household had many descendants — four sons and a daughter born of the first wife, and another son and two daughters born of concubines. So from the elder Zheng General’s parents down to the elder couple themselves, not a single person had ever pressured her. The younger Shen Shi’s anxiety was entirely self-imposed — born out of deep love for her husband, she felt she was letting him down, and the pressure had come from within.

“Those words speak truly.” Minglan moved to sit beside the younger Shen Shi and offered gentle comfort: “You have only been married these two years. Set your heart at ease — don’t worry yourself into poor health.” Then, unable to stop herself, she added with a touch of wry humor: “Think about it — you already have everything going so smoothly for you. If on top of all that you were to be carrying a child every year, ten children in ten years, what would become of the rest of us who have it harder? Heaven would be truly playing favorites, wouldn’t it? Just look at me — the day I gave birth to Tuan Ge’er, I nearly got roasted alive.”

The younger Shen Shi dissolved into laughter and pointed at Minglan, scolding her with feeling: “Serves you right! That’s what you get for your sharp tongue — you brought trouble on yourself.”

Then, quite deliberately, she gave Minglan a thorough up-and-down appraisal without blinking, and said: “Don’t make yourself sound so pitiful — do you think I can’t see it? Tell me honestly — why do you look so worn out first thing in the morning?”

Minglan instinctively reached up to touch her face, smiling sheepishly: “It can’t be helped — Tuan Ge’er was fussing all night, so I…” But that wasn’t really it.

“Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes!” The younger Shen Shi slapped the table and laughed. “Do you think I’m blind? I know perfectly well why you look like this. A woman who truly hasn’t slept well doesn’t look like you — all soft and glowing like this, tsk tsk, as if you’re practically dripping… looks like a whole night of carrying on…” She trailed off, her own face going red — even she, raised in such an uninhibited, freewheeling manner, couldn’t quite finish that sentence.

Minglan was thoroughly mortified. Her porcelain-white, dewy face turned scarlet all the way to the tips of her ears.

To speak of it plainly, nursing was a genuinely hazardous occupation — with garments half-loosened during the process, the couple would inevitably set each other off, hands beginning to wander. It was invariably a matter of feeding one and then having to feed the other. Serving in two capacities through the night was truly exhausting.

“You shameless creature — you’ll say anything!” Minglan, maddened with embarrassment, declared through gritted teeth: “See if I don’t go tell your sister-in-law!”

The younger Shen Shi was delighted and deliberately pressed further: “Go on, tell her — let’s see who you’d dare say this to.”

“You, you…” Minglan was both furious and mortified, all her usual dignified composure completely gone, and she turned her back like a child in a sulk, fuming: “I’m not friends with you anymore. I won’t speak to you ever again!”