Once everything had been said and truly accepted, the two of them suddenly felt a ease greater than they had ever known before — a clarity and openness that had never existed between them until now. It was as though, in a single night, they had become an old married couple who had spent half a lifetime side by side, or perhaps old friends reunited after a long separation. They spoke and behaved with one another without any reservations whatsoever. Minglan had never known it was possible to be this close to someone with whom she shared no blood — to have absolutely nothing left unsaid.

The days of her postpartum confinement were leisurely and comfortable. Gu Tingye took care of every trifling matter with a single hand.

The first order of business was to reward the manor’s brave men and household guards who had defended the Marquis’s residence. Every family received a generous monetary reward. For the several families whose men had died, their bondservant status was revoked and their freedom restored, along with grants of farmland; if a family had nephews of the right age, those nephews could also enter military service. As a result, not only did those families weep with gratitude, but the rest of the household watched on with envy, and all of them sang the praises of their master’s great generosity and virtue.

Generous rewards, however, had to be matched with severe punishments. Over the following days, Gu Tingye made clear to everyone two things by his actions: first, the Madam had already administered her punishment — the Marquis had yet to administer his; second, the Marquis was rather fond of military law.

Because the situation outside remained unsettled, Bisi had not yet been sent out of the residence. She was locked in a small outer courtyard room, weeping and wailing without end. One day, a matron who was supposed to be watching her relayed a message inside on her behalf, begging Minglan to change her mind. Without a word, Gu Tingye had the woman dragged out before him and, in full view of everyone, had her slapped forty times across the mouth — since she loved talking so much. The blows were struck until Bisi’s lips split and her face cracked open, her pretty face swelling up like a pig’s head, six or seven of her teeth knocked out. Once she fainted, cold water was thrown over her to revive her, and she was then tossed onto a broken-down cart and escorted home by several matrons.

After that, she dared not weep or beg anymore. In truth, she could no longer speak at all.

On another front, although Yiniang Ren had already been sent away, the six maids who had served her did not escape — not a single one.

In the past, Minglan had refrained from involving herself in the affairs of the main branch’s inner quarters out of consideration for Shao Shi’s dignity. But thinking it over carefully: a concubine sequestered deep within a grand household could barely set foot outside the gates — so how had she managed to make contact with the Madam’s household several streets away? How many times had people come and gone to arrange every last detail? Could those around her honestly claim to have known nothing at all? Gu Tingye did not even bother to question them — he simply dealt with them directly.

The two personal senior maids each had one finger from each hand severed and both ears cut off, then were sold into servitude in the harsh northern regions. The four lesser maids received twenty strokes of the heavy rod each; those who were bond servants born into the household were sent, along with their families, to the manor to do rough labor, and were never to set foot inside the Marquis’s residence again.

Shao Shi’s own wrongdoings were not convenient to state openly, so Gu Tingye simply chose not to state them at all. He had four of the matrons and household wives who had served her for years dragged out, and right in front of Shao Shi, administered ten heavy strokes of the rod to each one, with the additional penalty of having their wages and grain rations docked for a year. The charges were vaguely worded: during the time of disorder, they had failed to properly “attend” to the First Madam, causing the First Madam to “wander about,” which had nearly “led to a calamity.”

When the rod — as thick as a rice bowl’s rim — came whistling down for the first stroke, Shao Shi let out a piercing shriek and fainted dead away.

Gu Tingye did not even lift an eyelid, only laughed coldly to himself. These senior servants of the main branch — every last one of them knew of the old grievances between him and Gu Tingyu. It was only because of Minglan’s kind nature that they had continued to live with dignity, their families outside able to trade on the prestige of the Marquis’s house. Yet when the critical moment came, not one of them had shown the slightest conscience.

That night, Shao Shi and Yiniang Ren had behaved strangely — how secret could that behavior have been? Could these longtime attendants truly have noticed nothing? If even one of them had gone to report it, Minglan would have been able to prepare in advance. These crafty servants had thought nothing of it — better not to stir up trouble, and since the mistress was kind-hearted, if anything did happen, she would not punish them too harshly.

One wife had her leg broken on the spot; one matron was beaten until she vomited blood; the other two were also half-dead and unconscious. When it was over, the only things left in Shao Shi’s courtyard were several dark pools of deep red, clotted blood, splattered unevenly across the cold stone pavement.

Every servant and guard in the entire household trembled in fear. Even coming to Jiaxiju to report would cause them to shake with every step; Shao Shi was so frightened she fell ill; Qiuniang was so frightened she dared not leave her room; Xian Jie’er could only weep in silence; Rong Jie’er held her cousin close and quietly offered patient comfort from beside her.

As for the fate of the Han family members who had betrayed their masters — no one knew what became of them.

By doing all of this, Gu Tingye was telling everyone one thing: everything you eat, everything you use, everything you wear comes from the master of this house. None of it has anything to do with anyone surnamed Shao or Qin. No matter whom you serve or where you serve, your loyalty belongs to the master and his wife alone.

Throughout all of this, from beginning to end, Minglan stayed shut inside her room, holding the little one and pulling the bigger one close, saying nothing.

In truth, she understood perfectly well that in ancient times, this was the correct way to handle things. When a master was kind and reasonable, it made it easy for wicked servants to climb over their heads. Even someone as compassionate as Sheng Lao — that year when they returned to Jinling and caught several servants and stewards who had been stealing and selling the household’s belongings — had not hesitated to deal with it on the spot, and lives had been lost.

At the time, her eldest aunt-by-marriage had praised Sheng Lao effusively, and used the incident to instruct her and Rulan: “Servants who manage estates and farmlands on the outside for the master can become exceptionally treacherous — and the harm they cause is all the greater.” Yet Minglan had not been able to help her mind wandering: how much had those servants stolen, what was it worth, had it reached the threshold where it crossed from a civil wrong into a criminal one, had the death penalty been proportionate?

— Well, she did not need anyone to remind her that this way of thinking was rather foolish and pedantic.

“…I’m sorry. You’re so busy, so exhausted, and yet I’ve still caused you to worry over matters inside the household.” She felt deeply remorseful.

Gu Tingye cupped her thin cheek and smoothed the deep furrow between her brows. “You don’t need to blame yourself. I understand.”

She was capable of investigating every last cunning scheme in meticulous detail and building an airtight case — yet when it came to actually administering punishment, she always went soft. He had genuinely puzzled over this. As a master, whether for the sake of intimidation or establishing authority, there were times when a heavy hand was necessary — even if a few were wrongly punished, even if the punishment exceeded what the crime deserved. You could not always mete out punishment in precise proportion to the offense.

There had been a time when he had been vexed by her soft-heartedness and thought it a weakness. But looking back, he found he admired it.

Everyone around him, from childhood to adulthood — his late father Gu Yankai, Madam, Gu Tingyu, even the collateral uncles and cousins — had all acted purely on the basis of their own preferences and interests, never stopping to consider whether what they were doing was right, whether it was something they could answer for in good conscience. To say nothing of Man Niang, who had killed and set fire as she pleased, all for her own selfish ends.

As the scholars and statesmen in books would say: a true gentleman knows what he will do and what he will not do. In all his life, he had never met more than a handful of such people.

By comparison, Minglan’s stubbornly held principles, though perhaps a little foolish, were as clean and bright as a fresh wind and a clear moon.

…

Gu Tingye went about his punishments out front with absolute ease, without the slightest psychological hesitation. Minglan fretted anxiously, wondering whether, since Shao Shi was after all the widow of his late elder brother, treating her so roughly might harm his reputation outside. “If I had only known it would come to this, I should have been the one to play the villain,” she said.

“If I let myself be held back by the fear of impeachment at every turn, there would be nothing left worth doing. Don’t worry — I know what I’m doing,” Gu Tingye smiled and tried to reassure her, earning himself a magnificent eye-roll from Minglan.

Hmph — “knowing what he’s doing”! A general returned in triumph who not only mistreated his widowed sister-in-law but also treated the lives of servants as worthless — that was prime material for an impeachment memorial if ever there was one. If the censors who had nothing better to do caught wind of this, wouldn’t their mouths start watering on the spot?

Minglan scrunched her brows into a magnificent frown of indignation — but the very next day, Zhang Shi came to visit and, in a word or two, swept away her anxiety.

“Ha! Do you take your husband for a vegetarian?! My father said long ago that Marquis Gu appears rough on the outside but is meticulous within. He laid all the groundwork before making his move.” Zhang Shi burst out laughing. “Right now, word outside is that your widowed sister-in-law was scheming behind the scenes, colluding with her mother-in-law-by-marriage to plot harm against you and your child.”

“Ah — how did that story get out?” Minglan said, startled.

“That night, apart from the palace and the Nine Gates where the fighting was fierce, most other households encountered nothing worse than petty thieves. Our family had the worst of the thieving, and only because we had an inside thief…” Zhang Shi curled her lip disdainfully. “Go and ask around all of the capital — where else was there anything as dangerous as what happened at your household? Cauldrons of boiling oil, battering rams at the gates, tall ladders, a fire set — nearly half the people dead — it was like something out of a siege in a storyteller’s tale. Right here under the feet of heaven — when has anything like that ever happened? His Majesty was alarmed and said he would order strict punishment.”

Zhang Shi seemed to be in fine spirits, telling the story with animated gestures. Minglan silently refilled her tea cup. Zhang Shi took a sip and went on: “At first everyone was in chaos. Now that the situation has calmed, of course they’re left and right asking questions about this extraordinary affair. The trouble is that you’re still in your confinement.”

The implication was clear: the ladies of the noble families could not come directly to ask Minglan, and so they had only rumor and hearsay to go on.

Minglan smiled bitterly. “And what has been found out?”

“It didn’t even require much asking around. Your household’s haunted concubine was transferred to Magistrate Liu’s custody, was she not? During interrogation, it came out — indirectly — that your sister-in-law and your mother-in-law-by-marriage had conspired together, intending to harm you and your child.”

Minglan was taken aback. After a long pause, she said: “…But Yiniang Ren claimed that everything she did was of her own accord, and had nothing to do with my sister-in-law.”

Zhang Shi smiled meaningfully. “When the yamen conducts an interrogation, the goal is always to get to the root of the matter.”

Minglan went quiet. A small-time offender committing a crime amounted to nothing — you had to probe from the surface all the way down, dig out the ringleader, and only then was it considered an achievement.

“Besides,” Zhang Shi added, “when has a servant ever committed a crime without the master having any involvement at all? And your sister-in-law has always had her heart set on adopting an heir for her late husband.”

Minglan grew more and more astonished. “But that was something she wanted long ago — these past few years, she hasn’t raised it again.” How had even that been dragged into this?

Zhang Shi saw the blank, bewildered look on her face and laughed, reaching over to pinch her ear. “It’s only been a few years, and plenty of people still remember. Your eldest brother-in-law, on his deathbed, declared before a room full of people that he absolutely refused to have an heir adopted — but that doesn’t mean your sister-in-law was necessarily happy about it. If someone on that side had been making arrangements around that very issue, who’s to say she wasn’t tempted? Well, it just so happens that this fits perfectly with that. The gossip going around outside right now is quite lively, I can tell you.”

Minglan drew in a breath and said with difficulty: “Surely it hasn’t gone that far? In this matter, I know the details — my sister-in-law didn’t have that kind of nerve…” Under Zhang Shi’s curious, sweeping gaze, she stopped herself.

Zhang Shi looked as though she were watching something quite amusing, and said with a teasing air: “Whether it has or hasn’t gone that far — not only do I not know, but who could possibly guarantee it? As for you — how you’ve treated your niece, whether it’s the Xue family, the Zheng family, or other relatives and friends — people all have eyes.”

The remark was wonderfully oblique. Minglan chewed on it carefully for a moment and finally unraveled the delicate thread running through it: the bad reputation for Shao Shi was already seven or eight parts settled. After a long silence, she said gloomily, “I only feel sorry for Xian Jie’er. She truly is a good child.”

Zhang Shi’s heart was sharp and clear. She idly toyed with her fingernails, and said in an unhurried, offhand manner: “For one thing, the child is still young — she won’t be of marriageable age for at least ten years, and by then perhaps no one will even remember any of this. For another, have her come and spend more time with you going forward, and later just say she was raised from a young age at her aunt’s side and her temperament takes after yours. Hmph — a man who can’t even look after his own wife and children and still has the leisure to think about everything else under the sun hardly deserves to be called a proper man…”

Minglan glanced sideways. Through the gauze window, bright afternoon sunlight streamed in and fell across Zhang Shi, illuminating her slender fingers — as pale and fresh as spring onion tips touched with pink, dewy and lustrous. The woman was beautiful like a stretch of clear autumn water, like a famous sword: at once commanding and sharp, and utterly composed.

The great army had marched out of the capital, and the outcome for the two other households was still unknown — but for the Zhang and Gu families, victory was already as certain as a nail in a board. Duke Yingguo had not only planned strategy from a thousand li away, but had also known how to deploy his men wisely — sending fast cavalry swiftly back to guard the capital, while he himself held firm in command at the rear, and still found time to send reinforcements to his son-in-law. When rewards were distributed according to merit, Commander Zhang, the old Duke, naturally stood first.

With such capable father and brothers behind her, Zhang Shi’s back was like iron. As for her husband, Shen Congxing — well, his current condition was something she… did not much concern herself with.

At that moment, Nanny Cui came in carrying a bundle, her face wreathed in smiles: “Little Yuan Ge’er has woken up — I’ve brought him for Lady Shen to have a look.”

Zhang Shi immediately dropped the subject and went laughing to receive the child.

The infant’s skin was soft and tender; his plump, rosy little face still bore faint sleep creases, and from him rose the pleasant scent of milk. His features were delicate and lovely besides. Zhang Shi was delighted beyond all measure and immediately fished a gold lock charm out of her purse for him. Little Yuan Ge’er had just been fed and was neither crying nor fussing; his large eyes were clear and bright, and very graciously, he broke into a little smile. At the corner of his soft little mouth appeared a single dimple no bigger than a grain of millet — serene and pretty.

Zhang Shi’s eyes went a little glassy. She laughed: “…No wonder my mother came back from visiting you a few days ago and kept clamoring that we should arrange a match.” She planted an enthusiastic kiss on the baby’s cheek, and laughed: “Thank goodness I gave birth to a boy — otherwise I’d have pestered you to give this one to me as a son-in-law.”

Minglan covered her mouth with laughter. “Alas, the child is pretty enough — it’s the mother who’s gone and lost her looks.” She pressed both hands to her own thin cheeks and gave a theatrical, dejected sigh.

Zhang Shi turned her head and laughed as she consoled her: “When I was in labor, I was so fragile I was like a sheet of paper — and some incompetent physician even said I was about to breathe my last. Slowly nurse yourself back to health, and you’ll be jumping around full of energy again before you know it.”

She herself had not breathed her last — but she had sent quite a number of others to that fate.

Minglan suppressed a laugh and nodded repeatedly.

Zhang Shi cradled little Yuan Ge’er and patted him gently, unable to contain her delight: “Tsk, tsk — the families lining up to arrange a match for this child will probably trample the threshold flat… Oh, oh, good little one — come visit Auntie and play with Wang Ge’er. The two little brothers can read and write together…”

After coaxing him for quite a while, she handed the baby back to Nanny Cui. Zhang Shi turned to smile at Minglan: “And another thing — the capital is pacified now. A few days ago, why didn’t your family send out invitations for your son’s bath celebration? If you don’t have the energy to manage it, just let me handle it.”

Minglan thanked her repeatedly, then sighed: “It’s not entirely a matter of energy. Think about it — our family has always been close to the Zheng family, and right now the whole Zheng household is in mourning. If I were to host a cheerful bath celebration and one-month feast, wouldn’t that show a complete lack of heart?”

At the mention of the Zheng family, Zhang Shi also sighed. “What a bolt from the blue — the old gentleman was so kind and respected. Who could have known that in the end…” She recalled visits to the Zheng household in her childhood, shook her head, and said nothing more, shifting to another subject: “When I went to pay my condolences, the Zheng eldest sister-in-law asked me to pass on a word. She said you should focus on resting and recuperating. The friendship between your two families doesn’t need any of those empty formalities — she knows that in her heart.”

Minglan then asked after the situation of Little Shen Shi and the Zheng First Lady: “Managing a funeral is the most draining thing there is — I hope they haven’t worn themselves out.”

“Indeed.” Zhang Shi shook her head. “Both sisters-in-law have each lost a full circle of weight — they’re barely recognizable. What is the point? Heaven and earth have spirits, and true filial devotion is self-evident. To exhaust a living person to ruin — the old gentleman may not be pleased about it from the other side.” This remark was broad-minded and perceptive, carrying something almost of the spirit of Zen.

Since they were on the subject, Minglan could not help teasing: “I heard that when you went to pay your condolences at the Zheng household, your bearing was quite impressive.”

Zhang Shi was not bothered in the least, and laughed instead: “Thanks to the Zou family’s generosity, plenty of people have had their laugh at me over the years. Now at last they’ve quieted down.” The moment she stepped into the Zheng family’s receiving hall, the ladies who had been chattering among themselves fell instantly silent; the looks they gave her were at once reverent and wary, and they spoke with her in a manner that was, for no particular reason, unusually polite.

This was the difference in treatment between a merely fierce and disagreeable woman and a martial arts master. Just now, when Luzhi and the others had been waiting on them, they had been visibly trembling in Zhang Shi’s presence, not daring to breathe too loudly.

Minglan looked into her eyes and asked quietly: “Does it bother you?” After all, those were unusual looks.

Zhang Shi thought for a moment, then shook her head. A faint, self-mocking smile appeared at the corner of her mouth: “If it were you — would you prefer to have people looking at you with constant pity, or to have them look at you like this?” As the one and only legitimate daughter of Duke Yingguo, she had been proud from birth. Who could have predicted that her marriage would turn out to be the greatest disappointment of her life — and with all the looks of pity, some kindly meant and some gloating, she had not wanted to set foot outside the door since her wedding day.

Minglan understood at once. She nodded and changed the subject: “The Zou family has been thoroughly behaving themselves now, I presume? And that one who was spreading things outside — what did you do about him?”

Zhang Shi let out a dismissive sniff, and said lightly: “What have I done? The state has its laws. I handed Zou the Fourth, along with the captured criminals, over to Magistrate Liu — let them stew in the tribunal for now.”

Brilliantly done. Minglan smiled faintly and gave a silent thumbs-up in her heart.

The two of them were enjoying their conversation so much that Minglan invited Zhang Shi to stay for lunch.

The maids filed in one after another, carrying bowls and dishes of every sort: a plate of bright green and tender pink Longjing shrimp, a small pot of milky white crucian carp soup, a bowl of richly fragrant, deep red-sauced braised pork, and in the center, a large porcelain bowl with lotus-petal pink fluted edges, heaped with steaming lotus-leaf chicken; two more dishes of stir-fried seasonal vegetables and a refreshing cold dressed salad… the table was filled to the brim, and in addition there was a pot of fruit wine brewed by the Gu household itself.

After a cup or two, Zhang Shi began to ramble: “…Wicked people come to a wicked end. That black-hearted woman from your household has fared no better — not only has she lost her son, I hear her grandchildren have also fallen ill. It seems they may have contracted a seasonal plague…”

Minglan’s heart gave a small lurch. She lowered her head and slowly sipped her soup, asking nothing.

“…You’ve truly suffered terribly this time. Look at you now — you’re thin as a paper lantern, a gust of wind would blow you apart.” The wine was warming her, and Zhang Shi grew unexpectedly melancholy: “Women are born to suffer — bearing children, supporting husbands, raising families. It’s either blood or tears, always.”

Minglan gave a soft sigh and reached for the pot to pour Zhang Shi another cup.

The wine was a clear, limpid green, like dewdrops at the tips of willow branches, pouring out with a quiet, subtle sweetness — as though drawing out the very last trailing notes of summer. Zhang Shi drank it down in one go, a faint flush rising on her cheeks. “I have four elder brothers, and from childhood we played together like monkeys — those days were so free and joyful. But then I turned ten, and Mother said that a girl who wields blades and bows would not be to a future husband’s liking. So I set down my sword and arrows, and took up needlework, household management, poetry, gentle conduct, and a soft voice… all the things a husband was supposed to find pleasing. Who would have thought that…”

She reached for the pot herself and poured another cup, tilting her head back to drink it down. When she lowered her head, something glimmered and was gone at the corner of her eye. She set down the cup, and said in a low voice: “What does it matter, really…”

Seeing her about to pour yet again, Minglan reached out and pressed her hand over the pot, saying gently: “This wine may be light, but it has some kick. Please… drink slowly… mind your health.”

Zhang Shi, pleasantly tipsy, wrested the pot away with characteristic stubbornness and drank down two more cups in a row. She grinned blearily at Minglan: “…You didn’t want to have anything to do with me at first, did you? Ah — I’ve never seen anyone so earnest. My mother sent so many people to approach you, and when they saw how cold my expression was, they all gave it one or two perfunctory tries and then gave up. Ah… dear little sister, I appreciate your feelings for me…”

Minglan thought to herself — it had not been earnestness on her part at all. It was that every time she received Lady Zhang’s kindness and good grace when she was out and about, she felt so guilty that she would hurry straight to the Shen household to return the favor to its creditor’s daughter.

By the end, Zhang Shi seemed quite drunk. She grabbed Minglan’s hand and repeated over and over: “Foolish little sister, listen to me — worry less about your husband, and focus on nursing your health. That’s what matters most. Men are cunning creatures, they have their pack of scheming advisors to calculate their status and fortune for them. The only ones who suffer are women…” As she went on, her eyes reddened, and she lowered her head to dab at the corners of her eyes.

Minglan gently composed herself and said with quiet resolve, smiling: “Whatever may come, I have decided to trust him — just this once.” After a pause, she could not help adding: “The Old Duke is not only your father — he is also the Zhang family patriarch.” She understood what Zhang Shi had been hinting at.

Zhang Shi looked up and studied her for a long moment. She took a small sip of wine, and then said in a low, faintly bitter tone: “At the time, when the Empress let slip the idea of a match, Mother wept and simply refused. The Zhang family had long been considered flourishing — I alone had seven or eight female cousins from the main branches. Mother wanted to send one of the uncles’ daughters instead, but Father said: of all the cousins, I had always been the most distinguished since birth. Now that the family faced a crisis, if I would not go, who would?!… I resented him for it, but… I know Father was not wrong. In truth, he grieved over it far more than Mother ever did…”

Wine poured into a troubled heart only deepened the sorrow. At last, Zhang Shi could hold back no longer and began to weep. From birth everything had gone smoothly for her — yet it was in marriage that she had suffered her greatest fall. And precisely because her pride was innate, even in her grievances, she would sooner maintain a proud, cold face and stubbornly refuse to lower herself and beg for anyone’s sympathy.

Minglan gently patted her on the back, let her lean close and cry for a while, and could not think of anything useful to say, only murmuring: “It’s a pity I’m in confinement, or I could have cried alongside you… How about this — shall I pour you another cup? You’re already drunk anyway, so what does a dead pig care about boiling water — a few more cups won’t make any difference…”

Zhang Shi burst out laughing with a splutter and spat at her: “Hmph, you’re the dead pig!”

Seeing that she had laughed through her tears, Minglan finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Zhang Shi would not allow the maids to come and attend to her. She went to the washstand herself, wrung out a cold cloth, sat down, and gently wiped her face. Fortunately, she had never been one for powder and rouge; aside from a slight dampness, her face showed little sign. Having cried it out, the wine had mostly cleared from her head as well. Zhang Shi knew she had let herself go just now, and using the pretext of wiping her face, she cast a sidelong glance at Minglan without making it obvious.

Curled up and sitting still on the heated bed platform was a woman who was pale and slight, her long lashes gently lowered — looking not at all like someone who had borne two children. What stood out especially were her eyes: exactly like the little Yuan Ge’er she had just been holding — clear and warm, always appearing to carry a smile even when she was not smiling, the kind of face that instantly put people at ease.

Zhang Shi could not help sighing: “You and my young sister-in-law have always been close. What she says about me behind my back — I know at least some of it.” She clicked her tongue and said with a self-deprecating air: “Naturally, I’ve said plenty about her as well. Yet all these years, I have never once heard you pass on a single word. You’ve always urged us both to see the good in each other… Ah, never mind…”

She let out a sigh, then suddenly broke into a smile again. The shimmer of tears was still in her eyes. “No more complaining — I don’t want to sound like a bitter, resentful woman.” She turned her gaze toward the window. In the early summer sunlight, the courtyard outside was growing increasingly radiant, like a painting. Her expression was wistful. “At least I have Wang Ge’er. From now on, I’ll stay close to my son, and live my days quietly. That’s not so bad.”

Minglan said with a gentle smile: “As for me — when I was small, I always thought: as long as I had a tiny courtyard of my own, enough to eat and wear, and the leisure to sleep and daydream to my heart’s content, I would be perfectly content.”

Zhang Shi raised her wrist, lifted her cup, and said with a laughing reproach: “What a lack of ambition… Ah well — let us both strive together.”

Minglan cupped her small soup bowl in both hands and smiled serenely: “Let us both strive together.”

— Many years later, when the two of them sat chatting in their old age, they would discover that both of those wishes had, as it turned out, come to nothing.

Zhang Shi ended up bearing half a dozen children, and her later years were surrounded by grandchildren on every side — bustling, lovable, never giving her a moment to sit quietly and feel lonely; while Minglan, for her part, stepped out from the deep inner courtyard altogether, into green hills and clear waters and a life lived exactly as she pleased.

…

That evening, Gu Tingye returned to their room and found that Minglan had not yet gone to sleep. She was leaning forward at the window, lost in a daze, tilting her head to one side, her thin face making her eyes seem all the larger; who knew what she was thinking about. He asked her repeatedly what was on her mind. Minglan pressed her lips together with a smile: “What else would I talk about with the wife of the National Uncle? Only affairs of state and the common people, of course.”

Gu Tingye expressed deep skepticism. “Is that so?”

Minglan nodded vigorously: “We’ve even arranged to go together to distribute grain and silver outside the city walls.”

Gu Tingye narrowed his eyes.

“I’ve placed an order at the shop for a large General-style kite. The wind has been good these past few days, and the sun is favorable — when it’s ready, I’ll have someone fly it for you to see.” He pulled her onto his lap, one hand running gently through her slightly dry hair, deliberately shifting the subject with a nonchalant air.

“I’m better at flying kites than they are. Such a pity I can’t go out just yet.”

“I’ll wrap up this pile of business soon. After that, I’ll come home early to keep you company.”

“The real business takes priority. I’m not bored.”

“The physician said you should walk around more. The first moment I have free, I’ll go with you to burn incense at the mountain temple.”

“Oh… all right.”

“I’ve just got hold of a fine little foal. Once you’ve recovered, you can ride it for fun.”

“Mm.”

“Is there anything you’d like to eat lately?”

“…My Lord, Zhang Jie’er did not say anything bad about you.”

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, then both burst out laughing at the same time.

Minglan pressed the back of her hand against her lips, suppressing one small laugh after another, and said mischievously: “My Lord really can’t stand Zhang Jie’er, can he.”

Gu Tingye kept a straight face: “If she would stop meddling in other people’s perfectly happy marriages, I’d have no trouble with her at all.”

He had a general sense of the women Minglan associated with.

Lady Zhong was always praising the harmony between her own wives and concubines, declaring that legitimate and born-of-concubine children were all one happy family — he had no such problem. Lady Geng never strayed from the subject of guarding fiercely against “fox spirits” — he had no fox spirits. Lady Duan worried endlessly about her younger brother-in-law, who was even more immature than her own children, and when he would finally take a wife — his own blood brothers were all dead. And that older woman of the Liu family — left and right, she could not stop talking about the proper respect owed to in-laws — his own father and mother were, at this point, probably having a reunion in the underworld.

Even Little Shen Shi merely liked to gossip about other people’s affairs.

Only Zhang Shi combined both discernment and lived experience, and was capable of articulating a profound distrust of marriage along with a thoroughly bleak outlook on its prospects. Before, every time Minglan returned from a visit to the Shen household, she would be in low spirits for half the day.

“Your eldest sister-in-law, though — she is wonderful. You sisters should spend more time together.”

Setting aside the fact that his wife’s elder sister was both perceptive and generous-hearted, always inclining toward kind and encouraging words — there was also the principle that one takes on the color of one’s company. The Yuan Shao couple were as blissfully happy as a pair steeped in honey, deeply devoted to each other, and being constantly immersed in that atmosphere would do Minglan far more good than hearing all that dreary unhappiness from the Shen household.

As if sensing what was on his mind, Minglan laughed until she was nearly falling sideways, and reached over to flick his nose bridge. “Little miser! Little miser!” He really had been seen through by this sharp-eyed man — though, still…

She leaned into his arms and said in a low voice: “Don’t worry — we’ve already decided.”

The world did hold many mismatched and miserable couples — but it also held no shortage of those who grew old together in affection and devotion. Perhaps after being swept through a mudslide, heaven felt too guilty to do otherwise; perhaps after adversity must come ease; perhaps she, too, had this kind of luck, and could find someone wholeheartedly devoted, to grow old alongside her, never to part. One had to at least try.

A warmth that defied description filled Gu Tingye’s heart.

On the warm platform of the heated bed lay two small plump sleeping figures, side by side: Tuan Ge’er sprawled out with arms and legs flung wide, fast asleep; Yuan Ge’er lay with a solemn little face, sleeping with great seriousness. With his beautiful wife in his arms — this, perhaps, was what home was.

He suddenly leapt off the bed platform, stood straight in the middle of the room, threw his head back laughing, and with both arms lifted Minglan high, spinning her around in circle after circle. Minglan laughed like a child, one hand desperately covering her own mouth, the other pounding his shoulder with all her might. “…You mad man — put me down right now. If you wake up those two little fiends, you’re the one who has to soothe them!”

After easily a dozen full spins, the two of them crashed down onto the bed platform in a dizzy heap, cheek pressed against cheek, both of them grinning like idiots.

Nanny Cui, waiting in the outer room, had been holding herself back for a long while. Afraid of tiring Minglan, she had tried several times to go in and stop them — but after a moment, she shook her head again and again, still smiling. They were both such children when they wanted to be.

Gu Tingye, in high spirits, was eager to tell Minglan something he had heard. “Do you know what the Lady Duan, Lady Zhong, and Lady Geng suffered when they were lured into the palace?”

Minglan’s curiosity was immediately piqued. “Tell me, tell me.”

When the noble ladies had been brought into the palace, they were naturally subjected to some intimidation and enticement — but because the situation was still unclear and the palace itself was not yet fully under control, Empress Dowager Shengde had not had the time to deal with them properly. She simply had each of them isolated in a separate palace chamber, guarded by a few deaf and mute overseers.

And there they stayed — for two days and one night.

“If they were merely locked up, what could have been so bad about it?” Minglan could not understand.

Gu Tingye said with a laugh: “They were locked up, yes — but one thing was missing, which made them suffer terribly. Can you guess what it was?”

Minglan guessed it was food and water, or clothing and bedding, or cups and chopsticks… Gu Tingye only shook his head: “They were valuable captives — how could anyone have starved or frozen them?” Minglan guessed several more things, none of them correct. She grew impatient and thumped at him: “Are you going to tell me or not?”

Only then did Gu Tingye slowly say: “What was missing was… the chamber pot.”

Minglan’s face immediately went green.

Those palace chambers had been abandoned for a long time and naturally contained none of the usual conveniences — no chamber pots, no cleansing powder. A person might be able to go without eating or drinking, but bodily functions could not be controlled. When General Zheng led his men in to rescue them, the smell and the scene in that room…

Minglan felt deeply nauseated for quite a while, yet could not resist asking: “Did they… all… relieve themselves on…”

The floor?

Gu Tingye nodded, barely containing his laughter: “And where else could they have gone. The deaf and mute overseers only followed their instructions and paid no attention to anything else.”

Although it had been done in a corner, the chamber was spacious and wide — and it was very difficult not to see… that particular… accumulation. Several of those ladies were well-regarded figures in the capital. The expressions on their faces at the time… the expressions on the soldiers’ faces… tsk, tsk. One could say General Zheng was decent — he had kept it quiet for this long before it leaked out.

Minglan was stunned for a long moment, her mouth twitching at the corners: “…That was rather extreme.”

Gu Tingye raised an eyebrow: “Just that?”

Minglan turned her head away and said with deep feeling: “Those ladies suffered greatly. Ah — one really does feel for them.” The sincerity in her voice was unmistakable.

Gu Tingye cupped her ear and turned her face back toward him, smiling with narrowed eyes: “Be honest, now.”

Minglan stared at him for a moment — and then finally collapsed onto the coverlet, utterly defeated. From deep within the quilted padding came a string of helpless, breathless laughter: “I hate you! Ha ha ha ha ha ha… You’re going to be the death of me…” All right, she really was dreadful.

Setting the others aside, just thinking about Lady Duan’s usual air of dignified severity — Gu Tingye, too, felt entirely too ungentlemanly to suppress his laughter, and flopped down on top of Minglan for a good shared muffled howl. Minglan, crushed under the weight of that enormous frame and nearly losing her breath, struggled to flip over. She looked up at the side of the man’s face, bright with a smile that spilled over with happiness — like a clear, sunlit day in autumn. Something stirred in her heart, and in the end, she said nothing.

She thought: it was time she learned to trust him. Whatever had taken place on Xiao Qin Shi’s end, she should believe that what needed to be done, he would not fail to do; and what should not be done, he would not do.

Gu Tingye, intent on letting her rest and recuperate without worry, and Minglan, content to leave all matters in his hands, simply ate, slept, and idled away the days, amusing herself with the two children in her spare moments. Tuan Ge’er was enormously enthusiastic about his newborn little brother — but unfortunately, Yuan Ge’er was an exceptionally composed baby. No matter how lively and noisy his elder brother was beside him, Yuan Ge’er, if it was not yet time to wake up, would simply choose to pretend to be asleep rather than open his eyes.

Tuan Ge’er, keeping his mother’s instructions in mind — that he must not touch Yuan Ge’er while he was sleeping — could only cradle his newly given toy, sit cross-legged beside the bundled infant with his chubby little legs folded under him, and stare in frustration at his stubbornly shut-eyed little brother. He gazed on like someone confronting an ocean of hopeless possibility.

It was objectively a rather pitiful sight — yet Nanny Cui was moved to an entirely one-sided interpretation: “They say you can see at three what a person will be at eighty. The elder son is a brother, so of course he is warmhearted and generous. Little Yuan Ge’er has composure and resolve — he won’t be easily pushed around. When he goes out on his own in the future, he’ll have the fortitude to shoulder great responsibilities by himself.”

Minglan very much wanted to say: your imagination, dear Nanny, has become quite luxuriant.

Youth and good constitution being what they were, and the days so leisurely with spirits so light — within just a fortnight, Minglan had swiftly bloomed back to plump, fair, and rosy health. Gu Tingye, feeling the soft roundness returned to her frame, was even more pleased than Nanny Cui.

The two small children of Gu Tingwei had, in the end, not been able to hold on. Some six or seven days before Minglan completed her confinement, word came of their passing. Gu Tingye said nothing at all — he simply had someone send over a set of funeral gifts, and offered the excuse that he was busy with affairs, and that Minglan had suffered a great fright during her pregnancy and her strength was greatly depleted, requiring her to sit out the full double month of confinement. The husband and wife did not even go to pay their respects.

But then, there was truly no need to go anymore. Both sides had long since torn off all pretense of civility and become mortal enemies.

During this period, both the imperial prison and several other jails were buzzing with activity. The Ministry of Justice, the Court of Judicial Review, and the Censorate were occupied with jointly conducting hearings and handing down verdicts one by one. As for the mob of petty criminals who had taken advantage of the chaos to loot and pillage — Magistrate Liu, acting under imperial decree, prosecuted them solely on charges of robbery, theft, murder, and arson. The charges did not touch upon treason, and their wives, children, and elderly relatives were not implicated — Gu Tingwei was the sole exception.

Of all the households struck by criminals that night, the National Uncle’s residence had fared the worst — and even then, it amounted to no more than two wet nurses stabbed in the chest, four stewards with broken heads, six or seven pages and maids injured in the darkness by falls, another dozen or so with flesh wounds, and one concubine who had fainted from fright. Truth be told, it was Zhang Shi and her guards who had struck with considerably more force. At bottom, those criminals had only been after money — their aim was singular and straightforward.

Gu Tingwei was another matter entirely.

If one were to say he had no connection to the rebels, then how had he known about Empress Dowager Shengde’s scheme to lure the families of the generals into the palace? There had been so many witnesses present who heard his men openly say, over and over, “By imperial decree, we have come to summon Lady Gu Tingye into the palace.” On whose decree? Into which palace?

Even among the captured accomplices, it was testified that among those who had stormed the Marquis’s residence were also several men in official military garb. A brief interrogation was sufficient to establish that these men were rebel elements within the Five City Infantry, and in ordinary times had been drinking and feasting companions of Gu Tingwei.

Even if someone had wished to argue a word or two on Gu Tingwei’s behalf, it would have been very difficult to make the case — and besides, even if a case could be made, what could one possibly say?

“Your Majesty, Gu Tingwei had no intention of rebelling — he merely wished to eliminate his own legitimate sister-in-law and his nephew.” Could those words even leave one’s lips?

The Marquis Ningyuan residence had fought fiercely that night, with more than half its people dead or wounded, and the flames had rivaled only the great fire at the imperial palace itself. The Emperor was furious — and ceased to concern himself with what the full truth might or might not be. First, he stripped Xiao Qin Shi of her first-rank titular distinction. The Court of Judicial Review, acting on the Emperor’s intent, pronounced Gu Tingwei guilty of abetting the rebels. In consideration of the Gu family’s generations of loyal service, the sentence of having his wife and children reduced to slavery was waived, as was the sentence of having his corpse hung at the Meridian Gate alongside the chief rebel Teng’an Guo and his cohorts — but the Gu family ancestral hall was ordered to expel Gu Tingwei’s branch from the clan registry, with his descendants barred from holding any official post for three generations.

The moment the imperial edict pronouncing judgment was issued, everyone in the noble world gave the Gu main branch a wide berth, fearing to be too close. Even the Qin family shut its gates tight and refused to lend a hand. Among the Gu clan itself, only Gu Tingxuan and his wife visited a handful of times, fulfilling the basic obligations of kinship.

Two days later, that same couple arrived before dawn and planted themselves at the door, making certain to intercept Gu Tingye before he left for the day. They told him plainly: the Madam over there was not doing well and might not last more than another day or two. Zhu Shi was crying and making a scene, demanding to return to her parents’ household. With no one in charge of affairs there now, the servants were stealing the household’s belongings and neglecting the gravely ill mistress — it was a complete disaster. And when the inevitable funeral came, what was to be done?

“What does my elder cousin’s meaning seem to be?” Gu Tingye said, inclining himself slightly with a courteous and agreeable air.

Gu Tingxuan, an honest and sincere man not skilled with words, fumbled: “I — my meaning is… that is…” He grew awkward; knowing full well that what Gu Tingwei had done was against all heaven and reason, he could not bring himself to say it openly.

Cousin-in-law Xuan took over from her husband and said briskly: “Second younger brother-in-law, what your cousin means is: after all, you can’t write two different characters for Gu. Here in this capital city, with all its politics, if things over there become a scandal, it reflects badly on all of us too, does it not? Don’t laugh at me for being blunt — your cousin is soft-hearted, he can’t bear to see the pitiful state of things over there. I, however, am thinking purely of my own family’s interests. Our eldest son’s match with the Fu family has already been settled — the wedding is nearly upon us. We absolutely cannot let people outside have a spectacle to enjoy.”

Gu Tingye laughed heartily and clasped his hands together in a salute: “My eldest sister-in-law speaks forthrightly. Just the other day, Fu the Sixth was telling me that the old gentleman of his household was very pleased with this match. We are only waiting to drink the wedding wine.” And with that, he extended his congratulations enthusiastically.