Inside the curtained pavilion on Heavenly Street, Old Master Chen and Chen Shao were both present. Unlike the women and children outside admiring the lanterns, they preferred peace and quiet.
When Cheng Jiao-niang entered, the father and son were locked in an intense game of chess, unable to gain the upper hand.
From behind a folding screen, they could hear the lively chatter and laughter of the women.
“…Changqing-nu replied, ‘A fine horse.’ Guoyi was pleased when he heard that—thinking she had improved since yesterday when she gave the wrong answer—so he asked, ‘Who taught you that?’ Changqing-nu, remembering what her sister-in-law had told her, said, ‘My brother did.’ Guoyi asked, ‘And where is your brother now?’ Changqing-nu said, ‘At home.’ Guoyi then asked, ‘What’s your brother doing at home?’ And Changqing-nu said, ‘He’s giving birth to a baby—he’s still lying in bed…’”
Old Master Chen burst out laughing.
There was a roar of laughter from the other side of the screen as well.
Chen Dan-niang was laughing so hard she clutched Cheng Jiao-niang’s arm, tears streaming down her face.
As for the other daughters—Chen Shi’ba-niang and her sisters—they were, of course, already doubled over with laughter.
“You’ve learned from all the wrong people—more and more unlike a proper elder!” Madam Chen laughed as she covered her mouth with one hand and pointed at Madam Qin with the other.
More maids squeezed into the room from outside, and those who hadn’t heard the story had it retold to them. The laughter rolled on, wave after wave.
Amid all the mirth, Cheng Jiao-niang sat upright with a blank expression, making her seem rather out of place.
“Lady Cheng,” Madam Qin turned to her with a smile. “You don’t think it’s funny?”
“It’s not funny,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, nodding seriously.
Madam Qin was taken aback, then couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s so funny—how could you not find it funny?” she said. “Why don’t you tell us something funny, then?”
“I don’t know how,” Cheng Jiao-niang shook her head.
“You see, that’s the only thing wrong with you, Lady Cheng,” Madam Qin teased. “You’re young, but you never like to talk or laugh.”
Madam Chen gave a light cough.
“Don’t get too familiar—watch what you say,” she reminded softly.
This Lady Cheng isn’t like those women you’re used to having around, who take your jokes as a compliment.
If you offend her and she turns her back on you, not only will you lose any chance at goodwill, you might even make an enemy of her.
“I didn’t mean any harm. Lady Cheng wouldn’t take offence,” Madam Qin said with a smile, understanding Madam Chen’s well-intentioned reminder. Then she turned to Cheng Jiao-niang, still smiling. “Let me tell you another one—I’m sure this one will make you laugh…”
“That’s enough, Mother,” Qin Shi’san-lang couldn’t help interrupting from the side.
Everyone in the room turned to look at him.
Because the two families were close, there was no need to observe strict formalities—so Qin Shi’san-lang had come in with them and was sitting near the entrance of the pavilion.
“Your stories aren’t necessarily that funny. Everyone’s just humoring you,” he said with a grin. “Some people don’t even try to be funny, and they still manage to make others laugh.”
As he said this, he suddenly remembered Cheng Jiao-niang’s slip of the tongue at Desheng Pavilion and couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter.
His laughter made the maids behind him realize what he was referring to, and one of them also let out a stifled giggle—only to quickly suppress it again, casting an annoyed glance at Qin Shi’san-lang.
The ladies inside the pavilion were completely baffled by his sudden, inexplicable laughter.
“As expected—you haven’t even told the joke yet, and you’re already laughing at yourself,” Chen Shi’ba-niang said with a laugh.
The room once again burst into laughter.
Madam Qin was laughing too, covering her mouth with her fan. Her gaze drifted between Qin Shi’san-lang and Cheng Jiao-niang, and the more she looked, the more amused she seemed.
“Lady Cheng, come sit over here,” she said.
Amid the laughter, Old Master Chen’s voice came from behind the screen.
“Old Master, we women are just chatting—you don’t need to butt in and split us up,” Madam Qin said with a smile.
“Lady Cheng isn’t like the usual women,” Old Master Chen replied, chuckling. “She doesn’t care for the things you all talk about. She might as well come play chess with me.”
Qin Shi’san-lang raised an eyebrow slightly as he watched Cheng Jiao-niang rise to her feet.
“Go on, then,” Madam Qin said with a smile. “I’ll take you home later.”
“Oh, how can that be?” Madam Chen laughed. “Don’t tell me our family doesn’t even have a carriage to send someone off?”
“You’re always the ones doing us favors—let us have a chance to return one,” Madam Qin replied, standing up as she pointed to the maid behind her. “You stay and take good care of Lady Cheng.”
The maid responded cheerfully, “Yes, ma’am.”
Everyone rose to see the guest out, and Qin Shi’san-lang was the first to step outside.
“What’s the point of this?” Madam Chen said quietly. “You’re wasting your efforts.”
“How would I know it’s a waste unless I try?” Madam Qin replied with a soft laugh. “It’s the first time someone’s heard one of my jokes and didn’t laugh. I refuse to believe I can’t make her laugh.”
Madam Chen gave her an exasperated glare.
Madam Qin smiled, lips pressed together, and gently tapped Madam Chen’s hand with her fan before walking off.
The ladies seemed to have gone to stand outside the pavilion to look at the street scene, and the space inside fell quiet.
When Cheng Jiao-niang came in, Old Master Chen and Chen Shao were still locked in a fierce game of chess, evenly matched with no clear winner.
“Sit and watch the game for a bit—peace and quiet is better than any joke,” Old Master Chen said with a smile.
“Each has its own charm,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied as she took a seat nearby.
“Lady Cheng, you seem to have no resentment whatsoever,” Old Master Chen remarked with a chuckle.
“Because I have nothing to resent,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “After all, things have always gone the way I wanted.”
The words were shockingly blunt.
To dare say something like that!
But on closer thought—she really had always been that way.
People only harbor resentment when their wishes go unfulfilled. Like… oneself, perhaps?
Earlier, everyone had worried Lady Cheng might not come to their home at all, but now it seemed—how could she not?
Though she’d met some resistance here, she still achieved her goal. She wasn’t some pitiful soul in need of comfort—she was a victor, someone to be respected, even feared.
Chen Shao’s hand paused slightly. The white piece he placed landed slightly off-centre.
Old Master Chen burst out laughing but said nothing more. Even as he spoke earlier, his gaze had never left the chessboard.
The chess game had reached a stalemate, and both father and son were taking longer and longer between moves.
Old Master Chen held a black piece between his fingers, hesitating for quite a while. Then he shook his head, lifted his gaze from the board, and looked at Cheng Jiao-niang.
“Do you still remember how to play?” he asked. “Tell me—do I still have a chance of winning?”
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at the board, picked up a black piece, and, without even thinking, placed it down directly.
“You’ve won,” she said, withdrawing her hand.
Old Master Chen and Chen Shao both stared at the board, stunned.
Sure enough, that unexpected move disrupted the entire board, flipping the outcome—turning defeat into victory, and victory into defeat.
Chen Shao studied the board for a moment, then gave a wry smile.
“Next time before you make a move, could you give us a little warning?” he said meaningfully. “Half a day’s effort, gone just like that.”
“Well, you can’t blame me for that,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied with a faint smile, her tone just as pointed.
Old Master Chen laughed heartily.
“All right, a loss is a loss. If there’s blame to place, place it on yourself—don’t push it on others,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Let’s have some tea, have some tea.”
The chessboard was put away, and a maid brought over fragrant tea.
“Have a taste,” Old Master Chen said with a smile.
Cheng Jiao-niang thanked him and took a sip, but then her movement paused.
“It’s imperial tea, gifted by His Majesty,” Old Master Chen said with a smile.
“His Majesty?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked, looking at him. “From the palace?”
“Yes, a new batch of fragrant tea from the palace,” Chen Shao replied. “I have some more—if you like it, I’ll send some your way.”
Cheng Jiao-niang shook her head and gave a small smile.
“No need, I don’t really drink tea,” she said, then finished the cup. “It’s getting late—I should be heading back.”
Old Master Chen nodded, watching her with a smile.
“Lady Cheng,” Chen Shao said.
Cheng Jiao-niang stopped and looked at him.
“Do good deeds, and do not stray from the righteous path,” Chen Shao said.
“Good deeds? Righteous path?” Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him and smiled. “So, that’s why you serve as an official—no wonder your luck hasn’t been great.”
Chen Shao frowned.
“You should understand—your success this time was only because you happened to stand on the side of justice. If you were on the wrong side, the outcome might have been very different.”
“Master Chen, do you truly not know, or are you just pretending not to know what you’re doing?” Cheng Jiao-niang said, staring at him. “Favoring your own faction and attacking others regardless of right or wrong—that is the ‘great path’ you ought to recognize today.”
Chen Shao was stunned, watching as the girl turned and walked away.
What was she saying? Did she even understand what she was saying?
Favoring one’s own faction, attacking others without regard for right or wrong?
Wasn’t that exactly what the senior faction did—spreading false accusations, slandering at will, using every means possible to eliminate opponents in court?
And she was calling that the great path?
“She actually said that!” Chen Shao raised his brow.
Old Master Chen chuckled from behind.
“She’s always been like that, hasn’t she?” he said.
Using others’ strength to take down bullies, eliminating high-ranking officials who threatened her—whenever faced with problems that seemed difficult or impossible to handle, this woman had always had only one solution.
Not defense, not endurance, but a sharp, decisive, and relentless offense.
Just like this time—when she couldn’t persuade him, she didn’t hesitate to turn around and seek out someone she could influence. She didn’t care what others wanted; she only cared about what she sought.
She fights for what she wants, and he fights for what he wants…
Factional struggles, regardless of right or wrong? Is that… really acceptable…?
“Young lady, do you even know what you’re saying…” Chen Shao murmured with a complex expression.
It seemed that, aside from healing and killing, he still understood far too little about this young lady from the Cheng family…
“She actually said that!” Chen Shao raised his brow.
Old Master Chen chuckled from behind.
“She’s always been like that, hasn’t she?” he said.
Using others’ strength to take down bullies, eliminating high-ranking officials who threatened her—whenever faced with problems that seemed difficult or impossible to handle, this girl had always had only one solution.
Not defense, not endurance, but a sharp, decisive, and relentless offense.
Just like this time—when she couldn’t persuade him, she didn’t hesitate to turn around and seek out someone she could influence. She didn’t care what others wanted; she only cared about what she sought.
She fights for what she wants, and he fights for what he wants…
Factional struggles, regardless of right or wrong? Is that… really acceptable…?
“Young lady, do you even know what you’re saying…” Chen Shao murmured with a complex expression.
It seemed that, aside from healing and killing, he still understood far too little about this young lady from the Cheng family…
The night grew darker, and the autumn wind began to rise.
“Your Highness.”
A eunuch approached the city wall, handing over a thick fur cloak.
“Change into this heavier cloak.”
Duke Jin’an rested his head on his hand, quietly watching below the city gate. He had held that position all night.
“No need. It’s almost over,” he said.
Just as he spoke, several eunuchs appeared at the city gate, each holding a long whip.
The crisp, sharp cracks echoed down the street.
With each crack of the whip, the gathering crowd chatting and milling about bowed toward the gate, then gradually dispersed like a tide flowing outward.
The brilliant, dazzling lights slowly went out, and the night seemed like a lurking beast, swallowing the brightness of the street bit by bit, plunging the world into darkness.
“Your Highness,”
the eunuch gently reminded him.
The crowd in front of Xuande Gate had dispersed, leaving only the workers busy cleaning the streets.
“Let’s go back.”
Duke Jin’an turned, wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, and strode away.
