Upon hearing the news, Old Master Chen set down his teacup.
“This is something that can’t be avoided – it was bound to happen sooner or later,” he said.
A son may take pride in his father, and a father may find glory in his son; the bond between father and child is something that cannot be severed.
In the past, when Lady Cheng had reputation but no influence, that was one thing. But now that she possesses both fame and prestige, the world will no longer see her as merely Cheng Jiao-niang alone – they will see the surname Cheng, the Cheng family. And when a family like that experiences even the smallest incident, it will be magnified, talked about, and passed around.
That, perhaps, is one of the prices one pays for fame.
When a child renders merit, it naturally reflects the parents’ virtue in raising them. To reward the parents, therefore, is only proper.
But in Lady Cheng’s case, things are not so simple.
Others may not know, but the Chen family knows all too well the state of her relationship with her father and kin. Back when she first sought medical treatment, she came to the capital only by relying on the Chen family to avoid her own relatives. Later, she fell out with the Zhou family – and afterward, worse still – she directly brought a lawsuit against her own family, nearly tearing the entire Cheng household apart with her own hands.
The Cheng family now is barely hanging on – and it’s all thanks to her.
How could such a person possibly wish her father to receive an imperial reward, much less have the matter brought all the way to the capital?
And once it does – who knows what kind of trouble it will stir up.
“This Gao Lingjun really is…” Old Master Chen shook his head with a helpless sigh, then turned to Chen Shao. “Still, whatever he knows, and whatever we know – Lady Cheng surely knows it in her heart as well.”
“The problem,” Chen Shao said with a frown, “is that Lady Cheng is far too headstrong. I’m afraid she doesn’t know when to observe propriety. This isn’t Jiang-zhou – if she dares to make a public scene and drag her own elders before the court, even if the Emperor is merciful and spares her life, the people’s spit alone would drown her.”
Even a disciple of the immortals cannot act like a beast.
“Has she ever been one to forget her manners?” Old Master Chen said with a faint smile. “She knows her limits.”
Chen Shao shook his head.
“I don’t think she does. She acts as she pleases. If you insist she has a sense of measure, then it’s only one kind.” He reached out, brushed his fingers across the desk, and gave a light flick – sending the teacup before him toppling over.
“Anyone who stands in her way dies.”
Old Master Chen fell silent, his gaze drifting toward the screen beside them.
“In this world, how could anything ever go entirely one’s way?” Chen Shao murmured. “I fear her appetite will only grow – and one day, she’ll shatter her own teeth on what she tries to bite.”
As expected, Attendant Scholar Gao’s memorial petitioning for honors to be bestowed upon Cheng Jiao-niang’s father, Cheng Dong, was approved by the Emperor.
Ten days later, an official notice was sent through the local magistrate to Jiang-zhou, and an imperial edict of grace was delivered to Yudai Bridge.
“I kneel in gratitude for His Majesty’s benevolence.”
Cheng Jiao-niang bowed low to the ground, then reached out to receive the edict.
Meanwhile, her maid stepped forward to present a large red envelope to the eunuch who had delivered the decree.
The eunuchs beamed with delight – not because they were poor or had never seen money before, but because this was no ordinary silver. This was money from the disciple of True Master Li – carry it on your person, and it might just ward off evil and misfortune.
After the eunuchs were sent off and the incense table was cleared away, not a trace of festivity remained in the courtyard. Everyone looked toward Cheng Jiao-niang with unease and apprehension.
Cheng Jiao-niang glanced at the imperial edict a few times, then handed it to Ban Qin.
“Miss… what should we do?” Ban Qin asked, her voice trembling.
“What do you mean, what should we do?” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
The maid pushed Ban Qin aside and stepped forward herself.
“Miss, if Second Master Cheng and his wife come to the capital, we’ll never have a day’s peace,” she said bluntly. “So tell us – what are we going to do?”
Lady Huang didn’t know the details of Cheng Jiao-niang’s family affairs – Fan Jianglin would never have told her, and in truth, even he didn’t know much. But seeing the two maids’ faces entirely devoid of joy, both she and Fan Jianglin couldn’t help but feel uneasy as well.
“How could they?” Cheng Jiao-niang said with a smile.
Was she saying they wouldn’t make her life miserable – or that she wouldn’t let them make her life miserable? Perhaps both.
“Then… we’ll just let them come?” Ban Qin couldn’t help asking.
“What else can we do? It’s an imperial decree,” the maid said, repeating once again, “So what should we do?”
“We do what must be done,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, glancing calmly around her.
“We can move out,” Fan Jianglin quickly suggested. “It’s easy enough to find another house – and being closer to the Imperial Armory would be convenient, too.”
Cheng Jiao-niang shook her head.
“Ban Qin,” she called.
Both Ban Qins answered at once, “Yes, my lady.”
“Go and choose a residence – buy it, and have it ready for them to live in when they arrive,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
This time, Ban Qin said nothing more; the maid simply bent her knees in assent and replied softly, “Yes, my lady.”
The maid had barely gone out when a hurried knocking sounded at the front gate. Master Zhou entered with a dark expression.
“Jiao Jiao, tell me – what are we going to do?” he said straightaway.
“Do about what?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Master Zhou sat down and waved off the Ban Qin who came over with a cup of tea.
“This isn’t the time for tea,” he said, agitated and impatient. “That black-hearted couple are actually coming to the capital!”
News in the capital always spread fast – Cheng Jiao-niang nodded slightly.
“He’s going to work at the Grand Court of Revision,” she said.
“Jiao Jiao, they say it was Attendant Scholar Gao who proposed it,” Master Zhou lowered his voice to say.
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him, her expression seeming puzzled.
“This isn’t good,” Master Zhou said. “After what happened last time, they must have already dug into your affairs. Knowing full well how that black-hearted couple treated you, doing this now – they’re clearly trying to disgust you on purpose.”
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled and shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I don’t get disgusted.”
Master Zhou’s thoughts shifted a little.
“Disgusting you is only part of it,” he sighed again, frowning. “As for Second Master Cheng – I know the man well enough.”
He no longer even bothered to call them “that black-hearted couple,” referring to him directly as Second Master.
Cheng Jiao-niang paid no attention to his cautious phrasing.
“…Though he brags about himself endlessly, his learning is mediocre at best, and his performance as an official even worse. Otherwise, he would’ve been promoted four years ago – instead of waiting until now,” Master Zhou said.
As he spoke, he noticed the faintest smile appear on the young lady’s lips – then quickly vanish.
What was she smiling at?
Could it be that, after all, father and daughter are still bound by blood – that her anger has faded, and she now wishes to reconcile?
“…Officials in the capital aren’t easily made – especially not in a place like the Grand Court of Revision. I’m afraid he’ll bungle things and end up making a fool of himself, dragging you down with him,” Master Zhou went on.
“But this is an imperial appointment,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “How could he possibly refuse to come?”
Master Zhou’s eyes lit up.
So, she still doesn’t want them to come after all.
“Even with an imperial appointment, he could decline it,” he said – then immediately shook his head.
“As if he’d ever do that.”
A cloud of worry crossed his face.
“Thank you for your concern, Uncle,” Cheng Jiao-niang said with a polite bow. “Since they’re coming, we’ll just take things as they come.”
“Then let’s do it this way,” Master Zhou said. “Move into my house. If he dares to pester you, I’ll deal with him. I’m not afraid of people poking fun at me – as an elder on the in-law side, I’ve got standing, and no one would dare question it.”
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled and bowed.
“Thank you, Uncle,” she said, sitting up straight. “There won’t be any trouble.”
Just as Master Zhou was about to say more, there was another knock at the door.
It was Cheng Si-lang, windblown and dust-streaked; Ban Qin jumped in surprise.
“What’s happened? Fourth Young Master, why are you here?” Ban Qin asked.
Cheng Jiao-niang stepped out of the room as well.
“…Second Uncle… might be coming to the capital,” Cheng Si-lang said between shallow breaths, his voice a little hoarse.
“It’s not might, it’s already been decreed,” Ban Qin said quickly, looking at Cheng Si-lang in surprise. “Young Master, did you come all this way just to tell us that?”
To run all the way from Jiang-zhou to the capital just to deliver that news – How ridiculous.
Cheng Si-lang waved his hand.
“No, no,” he said. “Father sent me to find out what’s going on – and also, to bring a message to my sister on his behalf.”
Father?
From inside the room, Master Zhou immediately pricked up his ears.
“…My father asks, if there’s anything you need him to do,” Cheng Si-lang’s voice continued.
You old fox, First Master Cheng!
Trying to snatch from me again, are you?
All to win over my Jiao Jiao – even your own brother you’d trample underfoot!
Not such a fool after all – you’ve finally realized my Jiao Jiao is worth far more than your precious kin.
Just as Cheng Si-lang arrived at Cheng Jiao-niang’s residence in the capital – while the official notice from the court was still on its way – the news of Second Master Cheng’s promotion to the Grand Court of Revision had already spread far and wide.
Heavy footsteps approached, and before Cheng Liu-niang could even look up, a large box was set down in front of her.
“What’s this?” she asked, lifting her head to see Cheng Qi-niang standing before her, a smug grin on her face.
Nearly ten years old, Cheng Qi-niang was tall for her age, and Cheng Liu-niang, seated, had to look up at her.
From that angle, the girl’s face looked both familiar and strange – carrying traces of another person’s features.
After all, the faces of half-sisters born of the same father could never be entirely without resemblance.
“These are some of my books and embroidery,” Cheng Qi-niang said. “I’m going to the capital with Father and Mother soon. There’s too much to take along, so I’m giving these to you.”
Then she quickly added,
“They’re all nice things – not stuff I didn’t like and decided to throw away.”
“I don’t want them,” Cheng Liu-niang huffed. “You keep them yourself.”
“They’re no use to me anyway,” Cheng Qi-niang said brightly, waving her hand with excitement. “My mother said that once we leave this time, we won’t be coming back – and whatever I want, my sister in the capital will buy it for me.”
Cheng Liu-niang looked at her and let out a derisive snort.
“Sister?” she said. “So that means you’re now the Eighth Miss of the Cheng family?”
“I’ve gained an elder sister? I’m no longer the legitimate eldest daughter?”
“I don’t want that! A stupid sister – how am I supposed to show my face to anyone after this?”
“I don’t want to be the Eighth Miss! I don’t want to be the Eighth Miss!”
The sharp, resentful cries still seemed to echo in her ears.
Cheng Liu-niang looked at Cheng Qi-niang – at that still-childish face already showing hints of womanly grace, and at the unconcealed pride and delight shining upon it.
When had she begun to take pride in having that foolish sister?
“My sister has met the Emperor, you know,” Cheng Qi-niang retorted at once, clearly disliking the term ‘fool.’ She shot Cheng Liu-niang a sideways glance. “But that’s all right – she’s my blood sister, and your cousin too. We both call her ‘sister.’”
Cheng Liu-niang gave a mocking laugh.
“A sister who’s disloyal and unfilial? I wouldn’t dare claim one like that,” she said, raising her hand to shove the box Cheng Qi-niang had set before her.
The box toppled to the ground, spilling its contents – fine silks, embroidered handkerchiefs, and gold and silver hairpins scattered across the floor.
Cheng Liu-niang froze for a moment. She had thought it was just a box of trinkets -leftover silk flowers and scraps of embroidery – but hadn’t expected there to be jewelry inside.
For stingy little Cheng Qi-niang to part with such things…
It could only mean she was aiming to cling to a wealthy new sister – and no longer cared for the old ones at all.
“That sister of yours isn’t someone easy to get along with. You’d better keep these things – when you’re thrown out someday, you can at least sell them for travel money to get back home,” Cheng Liu-niang snorted, standing up. As she did, she stepped on one of the silk handkerchiefs – whether by accident or on purpose, it was hard to tell.
Cheng Qi-niang burst into tears, let out a wail, shoved Cheng Liu-niang aside, and crouched down to scoop the scattered silk flowers and jewelry into the box in a panic. Clutching it tightly in her arms, she ran off.
The two sisters quarreled like this so often that the maids and servants were long accustomed to it. Seeing the familiar scene, they exchanged no words and quietly dispersed.
Cheng Liu-niang turned around and couldn’t help taking a few steps toward the courtyard, but Cheng Qi-niang’s figure was already gone.
Just then, the sound of firecrackers erupted – loud and continuous – so deafening that even in the women’s quarters, the noise was overwhelming.
“What’s happening?” Cheng Liu-niang asked, covering her ears.
“It’s Second Master’s investiture and honorary title being announced!” the servants shouted excitedly, and a few of the younger maids ran off at once to join the commotion.
So, it’s come down already.
Cheng Liu-niang covered her ears and walked a few more steps to the veranda.
“In a moment we’ll have to receive the imperial edict!” the servants cried, beaming with joy. “My lady, you must hurry and change your clothes!”
Though she was unwilling, she knew she couldn’t refuse. Attended by maids and servants, Cheng Liu-niang changed her attire and went to the front courtyard – only to find it already packed with people. Even Old Madam Cheng, who had been claiming illness and staying indoors, had come out leaning on her cane, her face glowing with health and pride, showing no sign of sickness at all. Outside the gate, the streets were a sea of people.
“…I still remember the last time the Cheng family received an imperial edict and a grant of honor…” a few elderly men, leaning heavily on their canes, said in their wheezy voices. “…Never thought I’d live to see it again… ah, worth it, worth it indeed…”
“…The Chengs truly are a family of deep virtue and lasting fortune. Looked like they were finished – but they’ve managed to rise again…” murmured one of the more shrewd onlookers.
“…What rank were they granted?” some others, more interested in official titles, discussed in hushed tones.
But most of the gathered crowd were simply there for the spectacle – watching the firecrackers go off, the government runners keeping order, the throngs of people everywhere, and the excitement surrounding the imperial envoys from the capital.
As for the reason behind it all – what did it matter to them? It was enough that they’d have a fine story to tell their descendants someday about just how grand and lively the scene had been.
In the Cheng family’s main courtyard, the imperial envoy had just finished reading the decree, and the entire Cheng household knelt in unison to give thanks.
“The honored official may choose an auspicious day to travel to the capital – there’s no need to rush,” the envoy said, offering the customary polite words.
But Old Madam Cheng could hardly wait.
“We must go quickly – quickly! Everything’s packed, we can leave right now!” she said loudly.
First Master Cheng and the others broke into awkward, embarrassed smiles, while First Madam Cheng and Second Madam Cheng hurried forward to support the old lady and lead her away.
“…That’s right, what are you waiting for? Get to the capital at once! Earn me a title while you’re at it! How come that dead Zhou woman got a lady’s decree this time, and I didn’t?…”
Grumbling and fussing, Old Madam Cheng was half-dragged, half-escorted by her two daughters-in-law toward the rear courtyard.
Meanwhile, after settling the imperial envoy’s accommodations, Second Master Cheng was called aside by his brother.
“I really think you should reconsider this,” First Master Cheng said quietly.
“What do you mean?” Second Master Cheng asked, his face beaming with joy as his gaze drifted toward the main hall – clearly impatient to go in and bask in the congratulations of his colleagues and subordinates.
“Refuse the imperial grant,” First Master Cheng said in a low voice.
Second Master Cheng froze for a moment, then gave a look of dawning comprehension.
It was common practice for officials, upon receiving imperial honors, to decline once or twice out of humility – pretending they felt unworthy. Usually, after two or three refusals, they would either accept the honor or the Emperor would graciously assign another post instead. Everyone knew the custom; it was mere formality.
“I know, I know. I’m not new to office – and even if I were, I’d still know that much,” Second Master Cheng said with a laugh, tinged with a touch of irritation, as if to say I’m not a child anymore.
“No,” First Master Cheng replied, lowering his voice further. “I mean – you shouldn’t go to the capital at all. Ask to be reassigned somewhere else.”
Second Master Cheng finally understood.
“Have you lost your mind?” he said, staring at him in disbelief.
