“Jin Ge’er, Jin Ge’er, you mustn’t go, you mustn’t…” called Jin Ge’er’s mother, reaching out to grab him tightly.
“Mother, of course I must go! Miss is about to fight someone—how can I not go?” Jin Ge’er shouted, shaking her off.
“But… but… the master will be furious if you do…” his mother said anxiously.
“Then that’s his bad luck. No one gets to bully my mistress,” Jin Ge’er snorted.
“Enough, just let him go,” said Jin Ge’er’s father suddenly, who had been squatting silently on the ground the whole time.
Jin Ge’er’s mother froze for a moment.
“But she’s just a girl, about to be married. From now on, her life won’t be her own. If Jin Ge’er angers the master, what will become of his future?” she said urgently. “For the sake of a thousand strings of cash, are you really selling our son’s whole life away?”
Jin Ge’er’s father was silent for a long moment before standing up from the ground.
“That’s right, I am selling his whole life away!” he said. “Go on, then.”
Jin Ge’er grinned.
“Father, that’s one hell of a bargain you’ve struck,” he said with a laugh, shaking off his mother’s grip and dashing off—not forgetting to grab a door bolt on his way.
His mother chased after him a few steps before stopping helplessly.
…
Cheng Jiao-niang looked outside and saw, indeed, a dense crowd of servants gathered—mostly male servants, along with a few brawny maids.
“No need,” she said. “What’s the point of fighting these lowly servants? No broken bones, no real harm—it’s beneath me.”
With that, she stood up.
“Let’s go.”
She’s really leaving?
Steward Cao was momentarily stunned but quickly responded, “Yes, Miss.”
“She’s really willing to leave?”
Though he had tried to appear unruffled and indifferent in the main hall, First Master Cheng had in fact been uneasy at heart. Upon hearing the maid’s report, he quickly asked for confirmation.
“Yes, she’s already loading the carriage…” the maid replied with some relief, then added, “She isn’t taking anything—just what she originally came with…”
So much for her bluster earlier!
First Master Cheng snorted, tossing aside the book he had been holding for hours without reading a single line. He straightened his robes and sat up properly.
“Who cares about mere belongings? Give her what she’s owed—it’s not as if we’d mistreat her,” he said.
The maid acknowledged his order and withdrew.
First Master Cheng finally relaxed completely, leaning back against the armrest as he picked up a golden cup at his side and took a slow sip.
Once this troublesome girl was dealt with, handling the second branch of the family would be much easier. Once she was married off next month, her parents would have no more excuses to make a fuss. She had to be wed before the New Year—otherwise, there’d be no peace for the holidays.
Setting down the golden cup, his thoughts drifted back to the sight of the young lady standing at the gate earlier, firing ten arrows in rapid succession…
Graceful and beautiful—what a fine young lady.
So she really had recovered. But what a shame…
First Master Cheng’s expression darkened.
A shame that it was the Zhou family who cured her. Naturally, she’d be close to them, and the Zhous certainly wouldn’t let her side with the Chengs. The way she acted so cold and mocking just proved how the Zhous had raised her.
Ah, never mind. From the moment she was nearly drowned as a baby, she had ceased to be a child of the Cheng family. Raising her and marrying her off was already more than enough to fulfill their duty.
The maid at his side refilled the golden cup with tea. Just as First Master Cheng raised it to his lips, two young servants hurried in from outside.
“Master, Master—they’re not leaving after all!” they said urgently.
“Not leaving?” The golden cup trembled in First Master Cheng’s hand, spilling a few drops on his robes as he sat up straight. “What is she up to now?”
“We don’t know. We were supposed to escort them out, but instead of leaving, they headed south,” the servant said, pointing in that direction.
South?
“To the Southern Chengs?” First Master Cheng asked.
The servant nodded.
What business does she have there?
When Cheng Jiao-niang and her entourage entered the Southern Cheng family’s alleyway, word quickly spread. The elder who knew her best was promptly pushed forward to meet her.
“Miss, we are still searching for Cheng Ping. He…” the elder began hastily, a note of apology in his voice.
Cheng Jiao-niang cut him off.
“I am not here for Cheng Ping,” she said.
Then why?
The elder and the others were taken aback, eyeing her clearly prepared traveling party.
“I thought I would take a look around your place,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, her gaze sweeping the surroundings.
Last time, she wanted to sit here—this time, she wants to look around. Next time, will she want to stay here?
The elder quickly nodded with a smile and stepped forward.
“Of course, of course. Please make yourself at home,” he said, personally leading the way. “The ground is uneven—do watch your step.”
Cheng Jiao-niang followed him inside, with Ban Qin, Steward Cao, and the others trailing behind.
“This area is quite large,” Cheng Jiao-niang remarked.
The elder stroked his beard and chuckled.
“South Cheng and North Cheng were originally one family. In fact, the ancestral home was this side,” he said with a touch of nostalgia, his gaze also sweeping the surroundings. They had reached the innermost part—far from the market streets, it felt even more desolate here. Withered grass grew thick, half-concealing scattered ruins and crudely built houses. Inside, children peeked out curiously, showing half their faces to observe the newcomers.
“Later, when they dug the canal and diverted the water, much of this place was abandoned. A feng shui master was consulted, and he declared that the vital energy here had already been severely damaged. So everyone moved to the other side.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded but said nothing. She took a few more steps forward, then bent down and picked something out of the tangled grass.
It was a broken piece of a roof tile.
“Miss, do you know… what decorative motifs our Cheng family—ahem—the Cheng family favored?” the elder couldn’t help but ask with a chuckle.
“Lotus sprays,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied without hesitation, still examining the tile fragment in her hand.
The elder was momentarily taken aback.
These days, the Northern Chengs no longer adhered to any particular architectural ornamentation. The lotus spray motif had only been common in the ancestral family compound—even among elders like him, few remembered such details anymore.
Yet this young lady had named it instantly.
Never mind that she was once considered simple-minded; the fact was, she hadn’t even grown up in the Cheng household. If you asked First Master Cheng himself, he probably wouldn’t have been able to answer.
So how had she replied so unhesitatingly?
Cheng Jiao-niang gave him a faint smile and lightly shook the tile fragment in her hand. The elder looked closely and saw that, despite its age and damage, traces of an exquisitely crafted design could still be made out.
Lotus sprays.
So that’s how she knew. The elder laughed heartily.
This young lady is sharp.
Cheng Jiao-niang tossed the tile back into the grass and strode forward again. The elder followed with an amused smile as they soon arrived at a relatively well-kept residence. Though it couldn’t compare to the Northern Chengs’ properties, it at least had proper walls and a courtyard.
“My home is here. If you don’t mind, please come in and have a bowl of plain tea,” the elder said, pointing to one of the houses.
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded and, without ceremony, stepped forward.
By now, the commotion had drawn a crowd. As they approached, ragged children scattered, and men and women hastily moved aside.
The courtyard was small, its center dominated by a gnarled old plum tree. A thin layer of moss clung to the corners of the house. When they entered, a child of about seven or eight darted out from inside and hid behind the elder.
“Is it just the two of you at home?” Steward Cao asked, glancing around. Though the place was tidy, it lacked the kind of cleanliness maintained by a household with women.
“Yes. My wife passed early, and my son and daughter-in-law died in that year’s plague,” the elder replied with a smile, patting the child behind him. “Only this little one was left.”
He had lost his wife, his son—nearly his entire family—yet his expression held no grief or numbness, only the same gentle warmth.
“Heaven has been kind. This child has been raised well enough,” the elder said cheerfully.
After all that… he still calls Heaven kind?
Ban Qin’s heart ached.
So often, those who have much remain unsatisfied, while those who have little still find gratitude.
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded and took a seat. The elder went to fetch a small table, and the child, suddenly remembering something, scampered into the house and returned carrying a water pot.
“Let me, let me!” Ban Qin exclaimed, her heart leaping at the sight as she hurried forward to take the pot. “Be careful—it’s hot!”
The child let go and, head still bowed, darted back to stand behind the elder.
“We don’t have any fine tea…” the elder said, bringing out coarse ceramic bowls. He rinsed them several times before setting them on the low table, then moved to prepare tea leaves.
“No need. My mistress doesn’t drink tea,” Ban Qin said, pouring a simple bowl of plain water instead.
Of course. Someone of her mistress’s standing—what she ate and drank was far beyond what this household could offer.
The elder smiled and stepped back, offering no further insistence.
Cheng Jiao-niang surveyed the courtyard, then nodded.
“I’d like to stay here for a few days—would that be all right?” she said, glancing to the side.
Steward Cao immediately understood and untied a money pouch, offering it to the elder.
“Ah, no need, no need!” The elder waved his hands, refusing. “Stay if you wish—why pay for it? This isn’t like hiring someone, not at all.”
No matter how insistently Steward Cao tried to press it into his hands, the elder wouldn’t accept.
Cheng Jiao-niang raised a hand, and Steward Cao withdrew the pouch.
“But I can’t simply take your house for nothing,” she said. “If you won’t take money, how about having a new one built for you instead?”
Build a new one?
The elder froze. The crowd gathered outside the gate to watch the commotion also froze.
Surely not…
“Ban Qin,” Cheng Jiao-niang called.
Ban Qin hurriedly responded, “Yes, Miss?”
“How much money do you still have?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
“We only brought ten thousand strings of cash with us when we came,” Ban Qin replied. “But Ban Qin said she would send us more by the end of the year.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded and turned back to the elder.
“That should be enough,” she said. “Secure the land, purchase materials, and hire workers—you handle the arrangements. Come to me for the funds.”
Ten thousand strings of cash!
This young lady actually had ten thousand strings!
The elder’s legs nearly gave out beneath him.
Ten thousand strings! These days, three mu of decent farmland in Jiang-zhou cost no more than twenty strings. Ten thousand strings! That could buy three fine estates in the best parts of the city…[1]
And with that kind of wealth, she still wanted to stay in his shabby home—even offering to build him a new one!
What kind of jest is this lady playing at?
“Miss… please don’t jest…” he stammered.
“Who’s jesting?” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “I see all that unused land—might as well put it to good use…”
Her gaze shifted to the crowd gathered outside.
“…Anyone willing to contribute labor can have a house of their own.”
The moment these words were spoken, the crowd outside erupted into chaos.
They had already heard that this lady intended to build the elder a new house—but just as they were reeling from that shock, her next words struck them like a thunderbolt, jolting them awake.
She was offering to pay for them to build houses… for themselves?! Such a thing could only be a blessing from the heavens, the kind of miracle found in legends!
“We’re willing! We’re willing!” someone couldn’t help but shout.
The elder, his face tense, glanced outside and waved urgently for them to quiet down before turning back to Cheng Jiao-niang.
“Miss, you mustn’t jest. This—this is impossible,” he said.
“Does that land belong to you?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
“Yes, yes! It’s all ancestral land passed down to us—we just… just haven’t had the means to rebuild…” someone outside blurted out eagerly.
The elder turned and glared at them, waving a hand in warning.
“What nonsense are you all stirring up?” he scolded.
The crowd immediately fell silent.
Right—building a house is a major family undertaking, requiring substantial money. How could it be treated so lightly?
This young lady’s mind must truly be unsound…
But why aren’t her servants stopping her? Instead, they’re just standing there as if this were perfectly reasonable!
“Come quick… come quick… that young lady from the Cheng family is back!”
Calls rang out through the Southern Chengs’ neighborhood, drawing heads peering out from every household.
“What’s happening? Is that lady giving out money again?”
“Not money this time—she’s giving away houses!”
Giving away houses?!
The words sent everyone surging toward the commotion. The already narrow alley became utterly congested, leaving First Master Cheng and his entourage nearly unable to push through.
“Scram! Get out of the way!”
Seven or eight servants swung their clubs wildly before the crowd finally scattered.
First Master Cheng and his retinue pushed forward, only to find Cheng Jiao-niang’s carriage parked in front of the elder’s house. Steward Cao and his men were busy unloading and arranging furnishings, while the elder’s old furniture had already been hauled out and piled haphazardly by the gate—children now clambered over it, shrieking with laughter.
“Cheng Jiao-niang! What are you doing?” First Master Cheng roared, his brows furrowed in fury.
Cheng Jiao-niang turned from where she stood in the courtyard.
“Moving in. I’ll be living here from now on,” she replied calmly.
“Who gave you permission to live here?” he thundered.
“Is this your house?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Of course not.
“Cheng Jiao-niang, stop this nonsense at once!” First Master Cheng bellowed, his voice dark with warning.
She met his gaze steadily.
“If this isn’t your home, then you have no right to command me,” she said. “At your house, you could drive me out. But here—just try it.”
Try it he would!
First Master Cheng’s fury flared hotter. He thrust out a finger.
“Seize her!” he roared.
His servants immediately obeyed, surging forward in a rush.
Steward Cao and his men had already dropped what they were carrying, ready to leap into the fray at First Master Cheng’s command—when a sharp cry made them turn their heads.
In the courtyard, Cheng Jiao-niang strode forward, snatching her bow and arrows from an attendant who had been carrying them inside.
Step. Draw. Nock.
With a twang, the bowstring sang, and a glinting arrow shot toward the servant leading the charge. The man screamed, toppling backward as he clutched his arm, writhing on the ground.
The others froze, staring dumbfounded at their comrade.
It was the same scene as before—only this time, blood seeped steadily between the fingers clamped over his wound.
“Did you think I was joking?” Cheng Jiao-niang said, her expression still serene.
Even as she spoke, she drew another arrow and leveled it straight at First Master Cheng.
Translator’s Note:
[1] 1 mu ≈ 0.165 acres or 666.7 m²
It’s a pity Duke of Jin’an miss this scene