Though both their families had received their titles as founding meritorious subjects, the Duke of Qi’s estate and the Ningyuan Marquis’s estate had long been on friendly terms. Yet the Qi Family had opened their eyes to the situation earlier than the Gu Family, realizing long ago that it was far easier for their sons to wield a writing brush and muddle through on ink than to keep on licking blood from a sword’s edge. And so, not even one full generation after the dynasty’s founding, the Qi Family already had one associate degree scholar, two provincial examination graduates, and one county-level candidate emerge from their ranks — quality still somewhat lacking, but the spirit was commendable.

The Qi Family’s loyal heart was apparent to the sun and moon alike, yet the wives they took tended to come from military and hereditary families — and the result was that each generation of Qi men grew weaker than the last, while their wives grew fiercer one by one. Hen-pecked husbands, therefore, became unavoidable.

But the true reputation for “the roar of the River East lion” did not take hold until the current Old Duke of the Qi estate.

Why exactly he was so afraid of his wife was a matter lost to the mists of history, too far back now to investigate. What was known was this: in the days when the late Emperor had been showering his concubines with favor and Empress Jing’an had shut herself away behind closed palace gates, the Old Madam of the Qi Family had not only watched her husband as closely as if he were serving a prison sentence, she had also frequently stood up for Empress Jing’an in outrage, issuing strict orders that her husband was not to associate with the families of those “vixens.” The Old Duke of Qi, thoroughly cowed by his wife, actually complied.

People at the time jokingly said: “A single roar from the East River — and every passerby trembles in the street.”

Because of this, the Qi Family suffered no small amount of bullying and cold-shouldering for a time. But when Empress Jing’an passed away, even as upright and honest a couple as Gu Tingye’s grandparents were caught in the resulting storm and nearly stripped of their title, the Qi estate remained entirely unscathed.

Not long after, the previous Emperor Renzong ascended the throne and praised the Qi Family for the uprightness of their household conduct. Riding on this wave of good fortune, the Old Duke and Old Madam of the Qi Family chose the most distinguished noble daughters of the time as wives for their two sons — and from that point forward, only tigresses filled the River East manor.

The mother-in-law was already enough to try anyone’s patience, but the two daughters-in-law turned out to be no less formidable. One was the fierce daughter of a military family, said to be capable of drawing a two-stone war bow with both hands. The other was the only daughter of a powerful earl, with considerable favor within the palace. The old couple could not afford to offend either of them and could only keep their heads down and quietly accumulate their wealth. On the whole, Princess Pingning’s reputation was somewhat better than that of the First Madam of the Qi Family.

On that day, after Gu Tingye had returned from court, he came to escort Minglan so they could go together. After stepping down from the carriage, Gu Tingye tossed the reins aside and headed straight for the outer courtyard. A matron came forward with a soft sedan to carry Minglan into the inner courtyard.

The reception hall did not yet have many female guests. The moment Princess Pingning saw Minglan enter, she broke away from the women she had been chatting with and came forward with a smile: “Well, well — I was just wondering who it was! Haven’t seen you for just a few days and your color is better than ever — I almost didn’t recognize you!”

The truth was that every time she had seen Minglan before, things had been rather awkward — after all, she had called her “Aunt” for several years, and in the blink of an eye her young kinswoman-by-courtesy had become her sister-in-law-by-clan. How she ought to address her going forward had genuinely troubled her for a good while.

“Your Highness, please don’t tease me… if you keep making fun of me like this, I — I won’t come anymore.” Minglan curtseyed with a blush, and in her heart she offered silent thanks to the late Emperor for granting Princess Pingning that particular title of Pingning.

Seeing that Minglan was still as modest and unassuming as ever, Princess Pingning became all the more easy and cheerful in her speech. She led Minglan further inside, where, seated on the central daybed in the room, was an elderly woman with entirely silver hair. Several women, some older and some younger, surrounded her talking and laughing. Madam Shen was also among them.

“Old Ancestor, come quick and have a look — this is my clan sister-in-law from Ningyuan Marquis’s estate that I am always speaking of.” Princess Pingning called out.

The elderly woman said: “Come here and let me have a look at you.”

Minglan knew this must be the Old Madam of the Qi Family. She hurried forward and performed her obeisance, then said: “This younger one pays her respects to the Old Ancestor.”

The Old Madam of the Qi Family had bright, sharp eyes — she was clearly still in good health — though her speech was somewhat unclear, as the elderly often become easily fatigued. She looked Minglan up and down and nodded approvingly several times: “Yes, yes — a proper, fine-looking child.”

Princess Pingning then pointed to a middle-aged woman seated beside the Old Madam: “This is my eldest sister-in-law — just follow my example and address her accordingly.”

The woman was somewhere in her mid-to-late forties, tall and broad, her face round as a full moon, her eyes with a keenness like the edge of a golden blade. Minglan immediately curtseyed with great propriety: “My respects, Elder Sister-in-law.”

The First Madam of the Qi Family gave a faint smile, her manner passably amiable: “We are beyond five degrees of kinship — whatever form of address you use is fine. Closeness and distance in a relationship are not simply a matter of what one calls each other.”

Princess Pingning’s expression stiffened slightly. She understood that the barb was aimed at herself — an insinuation that she was currying favor with those in power, that times had changed with each new dynasty. Since the late Emperor had passed away, the standing of both her father and her husband had considerably diminished. As for the two Empress Dowagers: she had once had some affinity with Empress Dowager Shengde, but with the Emperor’s own mother, Empress Dowager Sheng’an, her connection was quite unremarkable — and she still did not know how best to navigate that situation.

At this moment the Old Madam of the Qi Family suddenly said to Madam Shen and another young daughter-in-law beside her: “This is the new wife of the second branch’s clan-brother — by seniority, you two sisters-in-law should go and greet her.”

Madam Shen stepped forward gracefully: “This niece pays her respects to Maternal Aunt.”

The First Young Madam of the Qi Family seemed somewhat hesitant and was a beat slow before she said: “I greet the Marchioness of Ningyuan.”

Before Minglan could respond, Princess Pingning gave another bright laugh: “Oh my, Old Ancestor — my clan-brother’s child is almost a full year old already, and you are still calling her the new bride?”

The First Madam of the Qi Family’s face turned icy. She cast a displeased glance at her daughter-in-law, and the First Young Madam of the Qi Family shrank back several steps. Minglan stole a glance at her figure and bearing — not only did she show no signs of having given birth, she seemed as though she had never even… one had to wonder whether the eldest son of the Qi Family was truly so frail in health.

Princess Pingning still refused to let it rest, and turned to Minglan with a smile: “Speaking of which — my Jade girl and little Han Ge’er are just a few months apart from your little boy. They will be able to play together before long.”

A few months ago, Madam Shen had delivered a pair of twins — a boy and a girl. Within the two branches of the Qi Family, one branch could produce no children at all, while the other had delivered two in a single breath — truly a world of fire and ice. No wonder the atmosphere was so charged with the glint of steel and the shadow of blades.

At this point the Old Madam of the Qi Family let out a yawn and waved her hand with drowsy weariness: “When one is old, one becomes useless. Don’t all crowd in here — don’t neglect the guests outside. Except for my few old friends, see to everyone else yourselves.”

The two pairs of sisters-in-law in the Qi Family hurried to say it was no trouble, and said many more respectful words besides, before the assembled female guests filed out. In the outer hall, a fair number of guests had already arrived. The First Madam of the Qi Family cast a cool glance at Princess Pingning, then led her own daughter-in-law away to attend to the other guests.

Princess Pingning watched the First Madam and her daughter-in-law walk away, then turned back to Minglan with a slightly embarrassed look: “You sit for a while — I will be right back.” Minglan smiled: “We are family, Your Highness. There is no need for formality — what truly matters is not neglecting the other guests.”

On an occasion like this, the female guests were either imperial relatives or the wives and daughters of influential ministers — it was precisely the right moment for Princess Pingning to cultivate connections. Seeing that Minglan understood so readily, Princess Pingning was very pleased, and hurried off taking Madam Shen along with her.

Minglan was not ill at ease. She found herself a seat by a window where a pleasant breeze came through, and soon two small maids came to present tea and fruit. As she ate and drank, she took in the decorations of the hall. The space was bright and airy, furnished with elegant restraint — deep-toned wooden lattice and partitioning frames stood in clean lines, the walls were plastered white, and a few calligraphy scrolls and paintings hung at tasteful intervals. In each corner stood large celadon porcelain basins of lush, deep-green cymbidium orchids — not a breath of fragrance, yet the effect was refined and otherworldly. The maids and matrons moving through the crowd did so in orderly fashion.

A great household indeed, Minglan thought with quiet approval.

“Marchioness of Ningyuan.”

A calm, even voice. Minglan quickly collected herself and found Madam Liang of the Yongchang Marquis’s estate standing before her. Minglan rose at once and performed her obeisance: “It has been quite a while since I last saw you, Aunt. I hope all has been well with you recently?”

Madam Liang was as she had always been — composed and cool — though there was a faint weariness between her brows. The two women had little to say to each other.

“Your little boy — can he walk yet?”

After a long silence, Madam Liang finally asked. Minglan quickly replied: “He can only manage a few shuffling steps, but he crawls very impressively. Even if you set him down on the floor, he can crawl up the Marquis’s leg and onto the kang on his own — just like a little monkey.”

Minglan had not meant to show off — it was simply what she saw every day, and it came out naturally. Madam Liang gave a soft smile and said gently: “You are a fortunate one.” Then she gave a quiet sigh: “It is our household that has been unfortunate.”

Madam Liang was not having an easy time of it these days. The Yongchang Marquis’s estate had finally begun to slowly emerge from the cloud that had hung over it, and the Emperor had summoned them to audience twice — but unfortunately, the one who had contributed the most significant effort in bringing this about was the illegitimate eldest son of the Liang Family. Word outside now praised the Yongchang Marquis for having such a capable eldest son, while hardly anyone mentioned the legitimate firstborn. One can well imagine Madam Liang’s state of mind — her eldest faced a formidable rival; her second was still reading and had yet to pass the examinations; and her youngest’s quarters were still a contest of competing favors among concubines and maids, all making merry yet producing no heir to date.

And incidentally — the “wife” among those “wives and concubines” was none other than Molan, Minglan’s elder sister.

“When you have the time, do visit your elder sister more often. Sit with her and… have a talk.” Madam Liang chose her words with care.

Minglan was quiet for a moment, then said quietly: “My fourth elder sister would not listen to anything I say.”

Madam Liang gave a soft sigh, the worry on her face deepening. Minglan drooped her head and flatly refused to say another word. At this moment someone came walking over, laughing: “What are you all talking about? This is a joyous occasion, and here you both are with such long faces — careful the host family doesn’t come and sweep you out with a broom!”

Minglan looked up, and Zhang Madam from the Duke of England’s estate came walking over with a cheerful smile. Minglan exclaimed with delight: “Aunt, you are here! I was just wondering when you might arrive — please, come and sit.” Her savior had come!

Zhang Madam sat down beside Minglan and laughed: “You came early, didn’t you?” Minglan said modestly: “Today is the Old Duke’s birthday — we younger ones ought to arrive early.” Zhang Madam then said to Madam Liang: “Younger sister, please sit as well — it’s been so long since we’ve had a proper conversation.” But Madam Liang shook her head, her expression dim: “You two talk among yourselves — I will go and pay my respects to the Old Madam.” Then she slowly walked away.

Minglan saw that something was not right, and ventured carefully: “Aunt, are you and Madam Liang old acquaintances?”

Zhang Madam gazed at Madam Liang’s retreating figure: “Our respective families have been friends for generations, and we grew up living nearby — the two of us were as close as real sisters. Later, she… ah, never mind. That is all old millet and rotted sesame seeds.” She turned her head and said with a smile: “I haven’t thanked you yet, by the way. Whatever you said to Concubine Zou, she was in low spirits for several days afterward. My poor foolish girl — her appetite is back, and she is smiling again. Ah…” She followed with repeated, rueful sighs.

Minglan was momentarily surprised — it was rather more than she had expected: “It was nothing — I simply told her a story.” Then she briefly retold the story of the imperial son-in-law and the concubine, leaving out the last few sentences.

Zhang Madam was silent for a long while, then sighed: “Your kindness is well-meant. If Concubine Zou can appreciate your good intentions and live in harmony with my daughter, it would be no small blessing after all.”

Minglan nodded. She suspected it would not be quite so straightforward.

Just then a burst of laughter came from the upper end of the hall, and two matrons came in each carrying a swaddled infant. A distinguished woman seated beside Princess Pingning could be heard laughing: “My goodness — we have been friends for all these years and I have never been able to get so much as a glimpse of your little grandchildren, and now you have finally agreed to bring them out? Truly!”

Princess Pingning offered repeated apologies: “Dear sister, I am at fault for this. Babies who haven’t yet grown out of their newborn look — there is not much to see.”

Another distinguished woman said: “A precious pair of twins, a boy and a girl — and you couldn’t bear to show them off a little? You didn’t even host a full-month banquet for us! You miser!”

Princess Pingning said: “It was my husband’s idea. He said there was no need to make a fuss over small children — just eat a simple meal among the family.”

The other woman replied: “A simple meal, you say? The palace sent down two pairs of gold lock pendants as a gift — such an honor, and you had the nerve to shut the doors and enjoy it all by yourselves?”

Princess Pingning’s social circle was wide, and the female acquaintances she had cultivated, though perhaps not the sort to send coal in a blizzard, were quite willing to add flowers to a brocade. And so, one after another, they heaped praise on the two children — extolling them as though they were peerless treasures unmatched in heaven or on earth — while Princess Pingning deflected every compliment, not a syllable of conceit or complacency escaping her. Yet even so, the First Madam of the Qi Family’s face had already turned the color of iron, and her daughter-in-law beside her was at a loss for what to do, her eyes brimming with tears. Minglan felt a quiet pang of sympathy.

Zhang Madam sat perfectly composed and smiled with considerable meaning: “Back when we first thought the Qi Family was going to host a full-month banquet, I even had my gift prepared — yet in the end they only held something at the Xiang’yang Marquis’s estate and didn’t invite any outside guests. I rather thought it would just pass quietly like that. As it turns out… how impressive of the Shen Family.” At the time of the imperial commendation, the imperial decree had specifically mentioned the “outstanding contributions” of that old fox Elder Shen.

Minglan also knew of this, and only smiled in response without adding to the conversation.

When one thought carefully about it, Princess Pingning could fairly be called a heroine among women. Though she had been born into privilege, she had never allowed present wealth to cloud her judgment with arrogance. She was clear-eyed about the dangers that lay ahead — the Emperor growing old, her birth father growing old, she herself with no full brothers, and a husband who was only a second son, not to mention a formidable eldest sister-in-law. Neither the Duke of Qi’s estate nor the Xiang’yang Marquis’s estate could be leaned upon for a lifetime.

And so she had begun planning early. Whether it was Commandery Princess Jiacheng in the past, or Madam Shen now — she had chosen well every time.

If she had been a man, Minglan thought, she would have been quite a remarkable figure.

“Good things have been coming thick and fast in the capital recently. Surely Elder Sister Zhang must be close to her time as well?” Minglan made easy conversation.

Zhang Madam’s brow carried a shadow of worry: “It is close. I just don’t know whether it will be a boy or a girl.” Minglan opened her mouth at once: “It is certain to be a young master!” Zhang Madam looked surprised: “How do you know? Can you read such things?”

Minglan smiled and deliberately drew out her words: “First I shall say something auspicious — it is to make Aunt happy. And besides…” she deliberately dragged out the tone, “even if it were a daughter, would anyone be displeased?” Zhang Madam immediately burst out laughing, and could not help pinching Minglan’s cheek: “You mischievous thing! So good at angling for favor!”

After all, as long as the child was born healthy, the sex was secondary. If it were a girl, the mother — now herself a mother — would perhaps in time find it easier to loosen her grip on things and not be so stubbornly unyielding as she was now.

Once enough guests had arrived, the First Madam of the Qi Family invited everyone to be seated at the banquet. The female guests toasted one another freely, pressing wine upon each other in turn, and despite having Zhang Madam there as an ally, Minglan could still not quite escape the rounds. She steeled herself and drank several cups, her pretty face suffused with a rosy flush.

The banquet went on until mid-afternoon. When Minglan judged the time was right, she had her tea and then Cuiwei slipped up beside her ear to say that Gu Tingye had already risen to leave. Minglan also made her farewells. But Madam Shen insisted on seeing her to the gate, so Minglan had no choice but to endure the dizziness and walk along with her, exchanging a sentence here and a sentence there, hoping only to reach the inner gate as quickly as possible.

“…Now that I have these two children, I know what it is to truly live. As long as they are well, nothing else matters to me.” Madam Shen continued speaking in her unhurried manner while Minglan could only listlessly respond.

“Maternal Aunt — do you happen to know what names were given to my two children?” Madam Shen suddenly stopped walking.

Minglan pressed her hand to her forehead and tried to recall: “I believe they are called… Jade girl and Han Ge’er, are they not?”

“Those are their pet names.” Madam Shen said with a touch of wistfulness. “They have formal names too — given by my husband. One is called Yu Ming, the other Han Ming… Ming, as in ‘bright and understanding’.” Then she turned her eyes slowly upon Minglan.

Minglan was blank for a moment, and then the meaning of what Madam Shen was saying finally dawned on her. Half of her wine-fog cleared on the spot. Fortunately she was quick-witted enough, and steadied herself immediately: “What fine names, indeed. Bright in understanding, still in reaching far. May these two children have a smooth and easy life.”

Madam Shen looked at her. Minglan glared back with force — you and your husband may have your private moments of sentiment, but kindly keep them away from me!

The two women stared at each other for a long moment. In the end, Madam Shen softened, let her gaze drop, and gave a quiet sigh: “They are fine names.”

In truth, she understood it herself — her husband was young and handsome, talented and diligent, born of a distinguished family with a limitless future ahead of him, and he showed no appetite for women’s company, not once having taken in a maidservant-concubine even during her pregnancy. Save for the fact that his heart was drifting somewhere she could not reach, he was in all other respects beyond reproach. Compared with the various sisters within her own family, she was already far more fortunate — what need was there to wish for the moon when she already held the stars?

And yet, if she could not let Minglan know, she felt as though she might choke from holding it in.

After that the two had nothing more to say, and walked in silence to the inner gate.

Having taken her leave of Madam Shen, Minglan resolved to walk back to the main gate on her own: “No need for the sedan — I want to walk a little, to clear my head of the wine.” Little Cuiwei saw that her color was not well and dared not ask too many questions. She and a few matrons followed behind.

The layout of any titled household was much the same — along a narrow inner lane, and one would arrive at the main gate. She had noted it when she came in. At this moment, Minglan felt a towering fury rising within her, wishing she could haul Qi Heng before her and give him a thorough beating.

— That idiot had some crossed wire in his head. He was living perfectly well, yet he insisted on making trouble, and dragging her into it! He must have been enjoying too much peace and comfort, and gone looking for a thrashing! The more Minglan thought, the angrier she grew, the faster she walked, her footsteps sharp and heavy as though filled with all her displeasure. The attendants behind dared not crowd too close and fell back a little, following at a distance.

She reached a bend in the path, stepped around the corner, and almost walked straight into someone. The person hastily pulled up short. The two of them came face to face abruptly, and both were greatly startled.

Qi Heng appeared to have just seen off some guests. He too smelled strongly of wine, both cheeks deeply flushed — his fair complexion seemed almost transparent, as though a rosy tint bloomed from within, which only made him look all the more exquisitely handsome, like an orchid tree of jade.

“…Sixth younger sister…” His eyes still held a slightly unfocused look as he called out by force of habit.

He was already a father and still couldn’t leave well enough alone! At this moment, Minglan had not a shred of any tender sentiment — she only wanted to hit someone. She cut him off fiercely with six sharp words: “Shut your mouth! You absolute fool!”

Then she turned and walked away. A moment later she turned back, her eyes blazing with warning, and added in a low snap: “Go change the names of your children — now!”

The whole exchange lasted no more than ten seconds. Qi Heng stared in utter bewilderment, his mind completely blank. Minglan had already stridden away, and the maids and matrons who caught up behind quickly performed a hurried bow to Qi Heng, then ran after Minglan — none of them had any idea what had just transpired.

A short few dozen steps, then one more turn, and there was the gatehouse. Gu Tingye was already waiting there — his deep blue silk robe faintly carrying the scent of wine, yet the man himself was composed, his expression even.

Minglan lowered the hand she had been pressing to her forehead, and went forward with a smile: “I have kept the Marquis waiting.”

Gu Tingye frowned slightly, watching that gesture: “You drank wine — does your head ache? I am afraid the carriage will jar you further. Shall we rest here for a while before we leave?”

Minglan paused, then smiled: “I can manage — it is nothing. Let us not delay — let’s go.”

Gu Tingye stared at her for a moment, then said briefly: “Wait here. I’ll go and have a sedan chair brought.”

Before Minglan could object, he had turned and walked away.