For a long time after that, Minglan’s days passed in relative calm. Sheng Hong was kind and attentive, Wang Shi showed her care, Rulan was warm and lively, and the Old Madam pinched her ear and laughed as she scolded: “You little schemer!”

Minglan’s face flushed red. She twisted her fingers together and said bashfully, “Grandmother, are you not angry at me for being so calculating?”

The old woman turned her gaze toward the window outside, where fresh green had spread over every treetop. She said slowly, “Our family is considered a peaceful one. You have yet to see what true ‘scheming’ looks like — even a muddy pit full of filth is cleaner by comparison.”

Minglan’s spirits drooped a little. “Is there no once-and-for-all solution? Must we always be on guard, time and again?”

A faint smile played at the corners of the old woman’s wrinkled mouth. “Of course there is. It depends on whether one can bring oneself to be ruthless enough.”

Minglan looked up, puzzled. The Old Madam said, “Your father has just that one requirement. The children over there are already a few years old. Buy a woman who understands elegance and poetry, and do not let her bear children. That would settle it.”

Minglan was quiet for a moment, then sighed softly. “She would never agree to it. It would be like carving out her own heart with a knife.”

The Old Madam smiled with faint irony. “Then she can only endure. Endure one moment, and you gain a lifetime of peace. Endure through a lifetime, and you live safely to the end.”

“What if she cannot endure it?”

The Old Madam looked at Minglan’s downcast expression and said lightly, “Your great-grandmother and I both managed without scheming. I was too proud, too disdainful to bother. She was too soft-hearted, too tender to bring herself to act. In the end, I could not endure it — but she did.”

Minglan sat in silence. The Old Madam had once acted on a moment’s impulse and spent half her life in solitude, with not a single soul in the entire Sheng household sharing her blood. Yet the elder mistress had endured decades of tears and suffering, and had finally lived to see the fruit of it all — children and grandchildren filling her halls, enjoying her twilight years in peace and contentment.

Minglan let out a quiet little sigh. If one friend must fall so the other may live, then men ought to be ruthless toward themselves, and women ought to be ruthless toward others.

It was the warmth of spring, and magpies clung to the branches, chattering away. The sunlight was gentle and pleasant. In those days, Wang Shi was in high spirits.

First came the good news from Hualan — her pulse was strong and steady, and Old Madam He declared with iron certainty that it was a boy. Wang Shi wept with joy, then put together a generous gift and asked the Old Madam to deliver her thanks to Old Madam He. She then scattered silver coin after silver coin at Daoist shrines and Buddhist temples alike, which greatly displeased the abbot of Guangji Temple when he heard of it. He maintained that people ought to be faithful to one religion, and that worshipping both Buddhism and Daoism was like a woman serving two husbands — a deed worthy of being drowned in a pig cage. Wang Shi was deeply troubled. She had never been able to determine which deity deserved more credit for the good things in her life, and if she chose one, she worried the other might take offense.

While Wang Shi fretted over matters of faith, Lin Yiniang’s luck was running thoroughly black. The house arrest imposed upon her had been carried out with particular strictness this time, causing her outside business ventures to fall into disarray. Commerce in the capital was not easy, and without backing one could not maintain a proper front. So she had taken to lending money at interest — and ended up driving a debtor to their death, which tangled her in a lawsuit. The truth came to light.

High-interest lending was, in theory, a legitimate trade even in ancient times, but it was terribly damaging to an official’s reputation. When Sheng Hong learned of it, he was so furious he nearly collapsed on the spot. In his rage, he confiscated all the farmland and manor estates he had once given to Lin Yiniang and handed everything over to the Old Madam for unified management.

It was said that when Sheng Hong came storming in, Wang Shi was in the midst of striking her wooden prayer block. After Sheng Hong finished slamming the table, cursing out Lin Yiniang, and storming out again, Wang Shi made up her mind on the spot to place her faith in the Buddha — after all, he was an imported divinity, was he not?

Minglan privately suspected that Sheng Hong had still left some reserve for Molan and Changfeng. The Old Madam’s nature was famously upright and pure — she would never covet those properties for herself. This was merely a way of curbing Lin Yiniang’s arrogance. He had not, in the end, touched the private savings Lin Yiniang had accumulated over the years.

After the fact, Lin Yiniang beat her chest and stomped her feet behind her closed door, carrying on dramatically for half the day between declarations of wanting to live and wanting to die. Sheng Hong paid her no mind, resolving to keep her in the cold for a year or so before reconsidering.

Wang Shi went to Zhongqin Earl’s manor every other day to visit the pregnant Hualan, and each time she brought along a large cart full of tonics and supplements. In return she came home with a bellyful of gossip from the aristocratic circles, generously enriching the social lives of the Sheng household women who had only recently arrived in the capital. It was, all things considered, a fair exchange.

In chronological order, the first piece of news was that Gu Tingye had finally broken completely with his family. He wanted nothing more to do with his father, his mother, or his wife, and departed alone, without even taking his kept mistress along. The old marquis of Ningyuan was so infuriated he was struck ill and taken to bed, but for the sake of the family’s reputation, the Ningyuan Marquis household had to publicly announce that their son had gone out to experience the hardships of ordinary life and to gain practical knowledge.

Minglan felt a little guilty. Surely… that had nothing to do with her.

Then came a scandal that caused all who heard it to blanch. The young daughter of the Fuchang Marquis household had ventured out one day and been seized by a gang of ruffians. Only a single maidservant managed to escape, who happened to encounter Lady Zhao of the Central Palace and Lady Qian, the wife of the Secretariat’s Administrative Counselor, both traveling together to offer incense. They dispatched their servants to mount a rescue. The Rong family’s daughter was brought back — but unfortunately…

“The young daughter of the Fuchang Marquis household? Could it be Elder Sister Feiyan?” Minglan finally caught up with a belated realization.

“Obviously!” Rulan shot Minglan a sideways glance, then chose her words with care. “Could it be that she was… ?” She paused with artful ambiguity.

Hai Shi sighed. “Even if she was not, a young woman’s reputation is ruined all the same. What a pity — the Rong family only has this one daughter. Fuchang Marquis was so stricken with grief he suffered a stroke, and the young Rong Consort wept until she fainted.”

Minglan felt a heaviness in her heart and asked softly, “Were those ruffians ever caught?”

Hai Shi shook her head with an air of mystery and said delicately, “The Shuntian Prefect searched the whole city through the night — but there was not a single trace of them.”

Rulan said in bewilderment, “Can it be they know how to fly through the air and vanish into the earth? Or have the soldiers and officers simply become that useless?” Hai Shi smiled with deliberate restraint. “The young Rong Consort’s family has met with disaster — naturally, the soldiers and officers have their uses.”

Minglan lowered her head and said nothing.

Given the capital’s rigorous household registration system, even one Ximen Chuixue would long since have been heard of by the Shuntian Prefecture and the Five-District Constabulary, let alone an entire gang of ordinary ruffians. That they could find nothing at all meant only one thing — those so-called ruffians were no common criminals.

A few days later, word spread that Rong Feiyan, unable to bear the shame, had hanged herself.

One month later, the Qi Ducal household announced a marriage alliance with the Sixth Prince’s family. The daughter-in-law of the Great Princess served as the matchmaker for the bride’s side, and the eldest son of Duke Liangguo as the matchmaker for the groom’s. Qi Heng took Lady Jiacheng as his wife. The bridal procession stretched for ten li in red and splendor; half the city was festive with celebration. The banquet for guests ran for days and nights, and the open-air feast tables outside the city walls extended for several li.

On that day, Molan, still under house arrest, was listless and ate only two bowls of congee. Rulan channeled her grief and indignation into appetite and plowed through several bowls of rice, then added a midnight snack. Minglan closed the doors of Mucang Study, sent everyone away, and alone took out, one by one, the things Qi Heng had given her over the years — wiped each one clean, wrapped them carefully, placed them in a chest, and locked it shut.

In the cool of early summer, when He Hong’s mother showed improvement in her condition, Old Madam He sent an invitation for the Sheng household women to come and visit. Hai Shi was pregnant and suffering terribly from morning sickness. Rulan had caught a chill. Wang Shi was needed to look after them and could not leave. Molan remained under house arrest. So only the Old Madam went, bringing Minglan along with her.

It was Minglan’s first meeting with her future mother-in-law, and inwardly she had been somewhat anxious. To her surprise, though He’s mother was gaunt and pale, with a body frail from illness, her temperament was remarkably gentle. When she smiled, she resembled He Hong very much — like the soft flow of warm spring water.

He’s mother had initially worried that Minglan, being born of a concubine, might carry herself with small-minded airs and feel aggrieved. But upon meeting her, she found Minglan soft-spoken and good-natured, composed and gracious in her bearing, with a pair of small dimples that appeared at the corners of her mouth when she smiled — charming and delightfully vivid. She thought to herself that this girl had been raised at the Old Madam’s side, and a person vouched for by her could be trusted. She took a liking to Minglan at once. She held Minglan’s hand and spoke with her warmly, but each time a cough arose, she turned her face away at once, afraid of passing even a trace of illness to Minglan. On learning that the Sheng household had a woman with child, she carefully and thoroughly instructed Minglan to bathe in water infused with a powdered mixture of honeysuckle and mugwort before visiting anyone, upon her return.

As for the medicinal herbs — those were naturally provided, as a friendly gesture, by He Hong.

“Elder Brother Hong’s mother is quite amiable,” Minglan said, finally exhaling with relief on the way home. “Her illness isn’t even contagious — why take such precautions?”

The Old Madam held her granddaughter gently and smiled. “Don’t be too relieved just yet. Even if she won’t demand that her daughter-in-law wait on her, can a daughter-in-law really just sit back and rest easy?”

Minglan thought about it for a moment, then looked up, cheeks slightly pink, and said quietly, “I am willing to be filial to her. She lives alone and must feel lonely — I can keep her company and lift her spirits.”

The Old Madam smiled with a face full of warmth and pride, softly smoothing Minglan’s hair. “My little Minglan is a good child.”

Minglan nestled against the Old Madam’s side and murmured softly, “I’ll be filial to her and wait until she grows fond of me. Then I can invite you to come and… stay for a little while. The two old madams and the two of us can play cards together often. That way none of us will feel lonely.”

The Old Madam put on a stern face and scolded, “Nonsense! What kind of married daughter invites her grandmother to come and stay at her husband’s family’s home?”

“It happens, it does!” Minglan raised her head in protest. “I already looked into it — Magistrate Liu’s mother-in-law lives right in his household! He treats her just like his own mother, and the two mothers-in-law get along wonderfully!”

The Old Madam laughed in spite of herself. “That is because she has no children, and is old and alone — that is why she moved in with her daughter’s family. I, on the other hand, have a household full of children and grandchildren.”

Minglan lowered her head again and said in a small voice, “That is exactly why it would only be a ‘little stay.’ A very frequent ‘little stay.'”

The old woman sat listening, momentarily stunned. A warmth spread through her chest. Her eyes seemed to grow slightly moist. She said nothing — only pulled Minglan close and gently swayed, as though rocking a little child who did not yet understand the world.

Hualan’s belly grew larger with each passing day. Minglan busied herself making tiny garments and small padded bibs for the little one to come. Rulan was pressed by Wang Shi to sit in Minglan’s room for two whole days wielding scissors and needle and thread — all so that when the gifts were sent, her name could be added to them.

In days like these, Minglan lived in great contentment. In the evenings she chatted with the Old Madam and played a few hands of cards. By day she did needlework, copied a few lines of scripture, and joined Rulan in the garden to kick the shuttlecock — Rulan used Minglan as her practice target, beat her every time, and was accordingly in excellent spirits.

Every so often, He Hong would use some seasonal herb or supplement as a pretext to send things over, taking the opportunity to steal a brief glimpse of Minglan. On a lucky day he might manage to exchange a few words with her; on an unlucky one, he could only watch her through the curtain from a distance. But even so, He Hong returned home with a heart full of quiet joy, his fair and handsome face suffused with a rosy flush, each step a little lighter, each time glancing back once more as he went.

Molan was treated to an abundance of choice gossip. On the very day her house arrest expired, Wang Shi returned from Hualan’s with fresh news of the explosive and gratifying variety: it seemed that Qi Heng and Lady Jiacheng were getting along very badly. The Junzhu was domineering and imperious — not only did she beat and sell off servants at the slightest provocation, but she also kept the entire senior branch of the Qi Ducal household thoroughly under her thumb. On one occasion, Qi Heng had apparently shown interest in taking a small maidservant into his service. The following day, Lady Jiacheng found some pretext and had the girl beaten to death with a rod.

Qi Heng was furious. He gathered his bedding and moved to the study, and no matter how the Junzhu wept, raged, and threw herself about, he refused to return to their shared chambers. The standoff lasted two months. In the end it was only when Pingning Junzhu fell gravely ill and pleaded with him at her sickbed that Qi Heng finally relented and went back.

“Ha! And this is the wonderful daughter-in-law the Junzhu personally selected!” Rulan finished delivering the news and added her own commentary with great satisfaction.

Molan was more poetic about it. She lowered her gaze, furrowed her brow delicately, and sighed, “Poor Elder Brother Yuanruo! The Qi Ducal household truly has it hard.” She had come to apologize to Minglan and expressed her hope of restoring their former closeness as sisters. Minglan, of course, “sincerely” agreed.

Minglan said plainly, “He will be able to recoup his losses in the future.” It was nothing more than a political investment, with each party taking what they needed. No one had to pity anyone.

The day to recoup those losses arrived very quickly.

The Old Emperor, who had suffered a serious illness, finally made up his mind. While fading in and out of consciousness, he issued an edict to the Imperial Clan Court to rewrite the jade register of the imperial family tree, commanding that the King of Wang adopt the Sixth Prince’s youngest son as his heir. At the same time he ordered the granaries opened and grain distributed to the people, to mark the occasion with universal celebration. These actions amounted to a public announcement that the heir apparent had been decided.

“Amitabha, how sage and wise His Majesty is!” Hai Shi had begun praying to the Buddha alongside Wang Shi. “This matter has finally been resolved. Dragging it on like this left everyone unsettled.”

Minglan thought to herself: of course His Majesty is sage and wise — could he be called His Majesty if he were not?

That evening, Wang Shi held a banquet at home and called the whole family together for a meal. Sheng Hong was beaming with happiness, and drank cup after cup, his tongue growing a little thick as he praised the greatness of the Emperor several times over. Even Changbai, keeping his face carefully composed, could not stop himself from reciting a passage from the Ancestral Precepts. Changfeng composed a poem on the spot, lavishly appraising the old Emperor’s brilliant decision and its far-reaching influence.

“Is there really that much to celebrate?” Rulan, who had little feel for politics, was somewhat baffled.

“Of course, of course,” Minglan said, her small face pink from the wine, smiling merrily. “The imperial family now has a master to bow to, officials now have a direction in which to pledge their loyalty, and the nation now has a goal toward which to strive. Everyone is pleased!”

Indeed, everyone was pleased. The Qi Ducal household alone set off more than ten thousand taels’ worth of firecrackers. The entire capital was hung with lanterns and draped in festivity, buzzing with joyful energy — with the sole exception of the wretched household of the Fourth Prince. But after all, they were still family. Under the able mediation of Defei and the淑妃, the two brothers choked back their feelings and, in the presence of the old Emperor, reconciled on the surface and made a show of brotherly harmony once again.

The only ones truly to be pitied were the right senior steward of the Fourth Prince’s manor and two of the Prince’s scripture-lecturing tutors. Having offended the Prince too gravely, they were made sacrificial fodder — stripped of their posts and subjected to investigation, as old accounts were dredged up to be settled.

Such were the rules of the imperial household. When the young princes were poor students, their study companions were the ones who got beaten. When they grew older and made mistakes, it was the palace maids and eunuchs at their side who were beaten to death. Once they were grown and engaged in their scheming and power struggles, the first to be cast as cannon fodder were naturally the lackeys who served them.

Minglan deeply admired those predecessors in transmigration fiction who had navigated between rival princes in those high-risk, high-concentration environments and emerged unscathed. Nowadays things had clearly declined — one generation weaker than the last. Just look at how she herself had fared!