Because of the shock she suffered yesterday, First Madam Cheng had not slept all night. She spent the entire night in the scripture hall, clutching the Tai Ping Scripture and chanting it over and over. Early this morning, she even personally took a carriage to the Xuan-miao Temple to offer her prayers. Although she was a little disappointed not to see Abbess Sun, she felt much better.
By the time she stepped back into the house, it was already past lunchtime.
“…Forget about cooking. Just prepare some medicinal broth for me. I’ll drink that and then take a nap. We’ll have dinner all together later.”
First Madam Cheng gave these instructions to the maid as she walked.
The maid answered promptly in the affirmative.
As soon as she stepped into the courtyard, she saw two maids carrying out a small table.
It was the one that had just been replaced yesterday. First Madam Cheng paused in surprise.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“The master said… this one isn’t very good. He told us to take it to the storeroom and pick another,” the maid replied, head lowered.
First Madam Cheng frowned. One look told her the maid was hiding something. She exhaled, waved her hand, and asked no more, stepping into the main hall.
Inside, First Master Cheng was still pacing back and forth. On the floor were faint marks where tea stains had been wiped away.
Yesterday’s events had truly been infuriating.
Disobeying orders and running off to live on her own, taking money to build a house, openly defying them in public—and then that Second Branch… what a disgrace to the family!
First Madam Cheng sighed. Still, after receiving the Daoist’s blessing, her mood today was far calmer.
“Enough, don’t let it get to you,” she said as she approached him. “If she wants to make a scene, let her. So the money’s wasted—fine. If she wants to build a house, let her build it. What more trouble can she stir up? Next month, just marry her off quickly. Then everyone will see how we’ve treated her, and all those rumors will die out on their own.”
What more trouble could she cause?
Had he not mentioned it, things might have been fine—but the moment it was brought up, the anger First Master Cheng had just suppressed flared up again.
“What more trouble? You really underestimate her!” he snapped. He was about to go on when he saw several people hurrying in from outside.
“Master, Master!”
First Madam Cheng turned her head as well, looking somewhat surprised.
What were the managers and stewards doing here at this hour?
“Madam,” the men quickly stopped in their tracks and bowed.
First Madam Cheng’s gaze fell on two of the men, and she let out a cold laugh.
“And what are you two doing here? Not in a hurry to deliver the ledgers and the harvest to Second Madam?” she said.
The two stewards flushed red and lowered their heads.
“Madam, something’s happened…” they stammered.
“Something’s happened?” First Madam Cheng cut them off, laughing even more. “So when trouble comes, you come running to us? And when there’s no trouble, you go currying favor with others?”
“Enough of this talk about ‘you’ and ‘us.’ Like it or not, we’re all one family—and soon enough, all of this will belong to someone else! What’s the point of bickering now?” First Master Cheng barked.
First Madam Cheng froze.
“How is it? Did you capture them? Beat them half to death and send them to the capital!” First Master Cheng ignored her completely and demanded.
Lin Jiu lowered his head.
“No… no, we didn’t,” he said.
First Master Cheng flew into a rage.
“Useless! So many of you, and you still couldn’t handle a few out-of-towners!” He stormed toward the door as he spoke. “Truly worthless! If I can’t rely on you, then I’ll go myself!”
Everyone scrambled to stop him in a panic.
“Master, they… they went to the magistrate,” Lin Jiu said.
The magistrate?
“They dare play the victim and file a complaint first?” First Master Cheng roared.
“No, no… they said… they were going to turn themselves in and confess,” Lin Jiu said, feeling awkward even as the words left his mouth.
Turn themselves in and confess?
First Master Cheng was momentarily stunned.
Turn themselves in for what? Confess to what?
Meanwhile, the judicial officer of Jiang-zhou Prefecture was utterly bewildered.
“You wish to turn yourselves in and confess?” he asked, unable to stop himself from glancing once more at the calling card placed on the table.
Just moments ago, a minor clerk had brought in the card, saying someone wished to file a case. The name on it read Zhou Family, Guide General—a title belonging to a military official. The judicial officer, newly appointed just last year, had been so alarmed he nearly rose to greet them in person.
A Guide General might be a military man, but he was still a capital official. For someone like that to come and lodge a complaint—could something serious have happened here in Jiang-zhou?
The old clerk beside him stopped him with a chuckle.
“No need for alarm, my lord. This Guide General is no stranger in Jiang-zhou,” he said. “Nothing grave will have happened—it’s likely just some family squabble.”
As he spoke, he explained the long-standing matters between the Zhou family and the Cheng family.
“Back when that Zhou family lady passed away, the Zhous and the Chengs raised such an uproar they nearly tore the place apart—both sides wanted the magistrate to intervene. But in affairs like that, how could we possibly step in? We simply turned a blind eye,” the old clerk said.
The judicial officer nodded, finally letting out a breath.
“Seems this time it must be the same old quarrel flaring up again. When you see them later, my lord, just nod and mumble a few words to placate them,” the old clerk advised.
Yet when the Zhou family entered, they neither acted arrogantly nor pressed him to uphold justice. Instead, they opened by saying they had beaten someone, committed a crime, and wished to be punished.
Is this some kind of pitiful ruse?
The judicial officer exchanged a glance with the old clerk.
“It is often said that a son should not speak of his father’s faults. Even if an elder is in the wrong, there should be no quarrel—let alone a violent brawl. This time, in seeking justice over the young lady’s dowry, we ought to have either counseled restraint or petitioned the authorities for judgment. Instead, in a moment of rashness, we resorted to violence,” Steward Cao stood below the hall, his expression solemn. There was none of the lofty bearing one might expect from a servant of a capital official’s household; instead, he carried a trace of humility. Bowing deeply, he continued, “As servants, our actions in the eyes of others are taken as the young lady’s actions. To thus place her in a position of impropriety—this is our fault. Therefore, we beg your lordship to punish us.”
Is that so?
The judicial officer’s expression grew complicated. The old clerk beside him narrowed his eyes, as if catching some hint in those words, though he was not yet certain.
“In that case, since you acknowledge your wrongdoing—and this is, after all, a family matter—we will not interfere. The two households may resolve it among themselves,” the officer said.
Steward Cao bowed once more.
“When we are in the wrong, we accept punishment; but when we are in the right, we must fight for it,” he said. “At this point, it is no longer merely a family matter. So, we will admit to the crime we committed—but we must also make the plea that ought to be made.”
“What is it you seek?” the judicial officer asked, frowning.
“My lord, our young lady wishes the court to rule on the matter of her mother’s dowry,” Steward Cao raised his head and said.
The judicial officer sat upright in surprise, and the old clerk at his side finally understood the hint he had sensed earlier—fighting for the dowry! So this was not a mere verbal dispute; they truly intended to have the authorities adjudicate the dowry.
“It is said that a child should not speak of a parent’s faults. For a daughter to bring her elders before the court is, by law, an act of grave defiance. Yet now… we truly have no other path,” Steward Cao said, bowing once more. “We beg your lordship’s pardon.”
As he bowed, he reached forward and pushed a sheet of paper across the table.
Seeing the paper pushed toward him, both the judicial officer and the old clerk narrowed their eyes.
They had long since trained themselves to read situations like fire-lit eyes; at a glance, they recognized it as a flying money.
Normally, children filing complaints against their parents would not be accepted by the court—such cases would be dismissed outright. But when it involved family property or assets, there was room for negotiation.
And that room for negotiation? It was entirely in the hands of the officials.
The judicial officer looked at the man kneeling in obeisance, then at the money pushed forward before him—and everything became clear.
This so-called confession? Nonsense. They’re here to bribe their way into lodging a complaint!
But should he accept it or not? After all, the Cheng family was a prominent clan in Jiang-zhou. The current Cheng household was wealthy beyond measure, and Second Master Cheng’s official rank added weight.
The Zhou family, though composed of capital officials and equal in status to the Chengs, had two obstacles: first, the distance from the mountains to the emperor was great; second, this was ultimately a matter of family property. The imperial court always praised filial piety and utmost respect for elders, and most despised cases where family members turned against each other, father against son, or relatives against relatives.
“Our young lady is about to be married. Her mother passed away early and cannot see her off herself. We simply wish for the world to see the dowry her mother left behind, to show that her mother was not unjust as a parent. Yet the elders of the family have taken the dowry for themselves and will not release it, which truly weighs heavily on our hearts,” Steward Cao continued.
Spoken so eloquently—but it’s really just about the money…
The judicial officer frowned, deep in thought, saying nothing. The old clerk’s eyes flickered at the side.
“It is not greed for wealth,” Steward Cao said again, “but a matter of seeking justice for her mother.”
At these words, both the judicial officer and the old clerk stopped glancing away—their eyes lit up.
Steward Cao never looked at their expressions, keeping his head humbly lowered. Once he finished speaking, he produced several more sheets of paper and pushed them forward.
“These are the lists of our Zhou family’s dowry items, along with the official documents. We hope your lordship will examine them carefully.”
…
“Master! Master!”
The Cheng family steward burst in, panic written all over his face. His hat had slipped from running, and he barely noticed.
“What is it? Have you found out what happened?” First Master Cheng hurriedly asked, rising to his feet.
First Madam Cheng, kneeling at the table with the Tai Ping Scripture in hand, chanting anxiously, paused for a moment, straining to hear the conversation.
“I’ve found out,” the steward panted. “They really went to the magistrate—and they’ve even been locked up in the prison…”
First Master Cheng sank back into his seat, his expression peculiar.
“Have they gone mad?” he asked.
The steward shook his head.
“No, master, they haven’t gone mad. They’ve filed a complaint against us,” he said quickly. “The prison clerk whispered to me that the Zhou family said Lady Cheng submitted a petition, accusing our family of seizing her mother’s dowry, and asked the authorities to examine and judge the matter properly!”
What? A petition submitted! Asking the authorities to rule on the dowry!
First Master Cheng sat upright, disbelief written all over his face.
First Madam Cheng, inside the room, also sat up, clutching the scripture in her hands, feeling that no amount of chanting could calm her mind, which was tangled in chaos.
What more trouble could they stir up? Now it’s come to the dowry! Compared to this, running away and recklessly spending ten thousand strings of coins barely even counts as mischief.
Could it be that even the Daoist and the immortals cannot restrain this fool?
I’m not even surprised if she’s a rrincarnation of a fallen immortal