Qi Zheng was dead.
The news spread through the streets. Liu Xirou was still asleep, unaware that the old woman responsible for Qifu’s purchases had already brought the news into the mansion, and it quickly circulated throughout the entire household.
Qi Zhaoye was accustomed to rising early to study. Through the window, he noticed the servants sweeping outside looking uneasy, but he did not yet know what had happened.
In the morning, the obituary from the Ministry of War arrived. Liu Xirou’s forced composure shattered as if struck by lightning, while Qi Zhaoye nearly forgot to breathe, staring in disbelief at the letter announcing the death.
“How could this be?” The boy’s eyes welled up with tears.
The entire household fell into a deathly silence.
For two consecutive days, no visitors came to the mansion. Qifu seemed like stagnant water that had lost its source, sinking into paralysis. From the two young masters down to the servants, everyone wore expressions of sorrow—for the deceased Qi Zheng, and for their own uncertain futures.
Liu Xirou, under the pretext of reporting the death, returned to the Liu family on the very night she received the obituary. After that, there was no further news from her.
Qi Yuchen, naive and bewildered, huddled close to Qi Zhaoye and asked, “Brother, if Father isn’t coming back, what about Aunt? When will Aunt come back… I don’t want to sleep alone…”
Qi Zhaoye did not know how to answer. No matter how many books he read or how many poems he memorized, he was still only a nine-year-old child. He did not know what to do now, who to turn to, or how to accept his father’s death.
He had not yet proven his excellence to his father.
His father would never again praise him or dote on him. The warm and harmonious family life he had envisioned with his father, aunt, and younger brother could never be realized.
The immense upheaval and sense of helplessness crashed over him like a tidal wave. His chest felt heavy and painful, yet he could not shed a tear. Apart from holding his brother tightly, he did not know what else he could do.
On the third day, relatives finally came to visit.
The Qi ancestors had produced a General Who Guards the Nation, originally making it a prominent family. By Qi Zheng’s generation, it was already the fifth, divided into four branches. Most of these relatives relied on ancestral property to maintain their dignity, with descendants leading idle lives. Some, by middle age, had used various connections to secure minor official posts. Aside from Qi Zheng, a fourth-rank general, there was almost no one capable of upholding the family’s prestige.
The cousins from the Third Master’s family, the eldest uncle, and Er Shugong arrived one after another, their faces filled with melancholy. They began by expressing concern for the two brothers, but upon discovering Liu Xirou’s absence, their demeanor gradually turned condescending.
Sighing at the two brothers, they remarked, “Look, this is the kind of woman the Liu family produces. While Zheng’er was alive, she stayed by your side without leaving an inch. The moment Zheng’er was gone, she disappeared. It’s clear the Liu family has ill intentions.”
The three of them sat solemnly in the main hall. Qi Zhaoye held Qi Yuchen’s hand as they stood before the three elders, remaining silent.
Er Shugong suggested, “Although Zheng’er is gone, these two children are members of the Qi family and cannot be left unattended. Why don’t the three of us take them back to raise them?”
The eldest uncle coughed and said seriously, “Why go to such trouble? The children are used to living in this house. It wouldn’t be right to separate them at this age. Instead, let’s choose a young descendant from one of our three branches to be adopted by Zheng’er, becoming an elder brother and sister-in-law to these two brothers. They can move in to take care of them and handle Zheng’er’s funeral arrangements.”
The other two looked displeased. The cousin anxiously said, “According to the eldest uncle’s idea, the two children and this mansion would be settled. But what about Brother Zheng’s farmland and the family’s wealth?”
If Qing Luan had been present, she would have seen at a glance that these three families were openly discussing how to divide Qi Zheng’s inheritance.
But she wasn’t there. Previously, when Qi Zhaoye met with the clan elders, the atmosphere had always been lively and harmonious, never as solemn as this. Listening to the elders’ discussions, he followed the rules and did not interrupt.
Yet intuition made him uneasy. He glanced at his somewhat agitated uncle.
Reminded by the gazes of the other two, his uncle immediately straightened his posture, turned to Qi Zhaoye, and explained, “What I mean is, the children are still young, so of course we must choose trustworthy clan members to care for them. But none of our families have such large estates. Brother Zheng’s household alone has over forty servants. How could we manage all that?”
As he spoke, he looked to the two seated elders for confirmation. “The mansion can remain, but the brothers don’t need so many people attending to them, nor can they handle the land and properties. Why don’t we three families share the responsibility?”
The eldest uncle and Er Shugong exchanged a glance, as if after grave consideration, and nodded.
“Then it’s settled,” the eldest uncle stood up. “As for who will care for these two children, we three families must discuss carefully and choose the right people.”
The three smiled with satisfaction and made to leave.
Qi Zhaoye was puzzled. Weren’t these three elders here to help them? Why had they decided everything without consulting them, and all matters concerning land, property, and wealth…
“Eldest Uncle, please wait.” Qi Zhaoye released his younger brother’s hand and stepped forward to seek clarification, but his uncle pressed a hand on his shoulder and patted his head.
With earnest gravity, he said, “Zhao’er, you’ve always been sensible since you were little. In these times, with Yu’er still so young, you must take on the responsibility of an elder brother and look after him well. As for the household affairs and your father’s funeral arrangements, leave them to us elders.”
Er Shugong added, “Though your father is gone, we will care for you as our own. Just focus on your studies and watch over Yu’er. Don’t worry about anything else.”
In that instant, a warm surge flowed through Qi Zhaoye’s aching chest, moistening the corners of his eyes.
He was just a child. The best he could do was study. He couldn’t even earn his own father’s approval, yet in such helpless and difficult times, he felt the warmth of family.
He didn’t want to cry in front of the elders. Like a little adult, he straightened his chest and nodded seriously.
“Thank you, uncles. I will.”
Over the next three days, the servants in the mansion gradually dwindled, but those attending to the brothers remained the same. Qi Zhaoye didn’t feel any change in their daily life, only an unstoppable sorrow in the quiet of the night.
Half a month later, Qi Zheng’s coffin returned to the capital.
Gazing at the cold coffin, Qi Zhaoye could no longer hold back his tears. He wept bitterly in the mourning hall. Even the bewildered Qi Yuchen sensed the grief in the air and knelt before the coffin with his brother, shedding tears.
Two small figures, barely filling their white mourning garments. Qi Dayong, adopted from a collateral branch, shattered the burial bowl and led the pallbearers carrying the coffin out of the city for burial.
Paper money was lifted by a sudden summer wind, then scattered.
At the roadside, Qing Luan, dressed in plain white, watched the coffin depart. She raised her hand and caught a piece of paper money, her expression indifferent.
All the merits, the solid support, the joyful promises… now vanished like smoke, lighter than even a piece of paper money.
Lowering her hand, the thin paper slipped from her palm, brushed past her skirt, and was instantly carried away by the wind.
“Madam…” Yinping tried to comfort her.
Qing Luan shook her head. “Let’s go.”
Their figures disappeared around the corner at the end of the alley.
After his father’s passing, Qi Zhaoye struggled to emerge from his grief, yet he dared not neglect his studies for even a single day.
He was determined to study diligently, take the imperial examinations in the future, and become a government official upon passing the jinshi degree. Only then could he support the family like his father had, becoming a responsible elder brother and the new pillar of Qi Jia.
A child’s thoughts are simple and straightforward.
Unfortunately, life seldom goes as planned.
First, Wang Shi, the wife of Qi Dayong, coaxed Qi Yuchen into moving out of Jingyiju. Then, she gradually reassigned the maids and elderly servants who had been attending to Qi Yuchen to care for her and Qi Dayong’s half-year-old son—”borrowing” one every day or two. Before long, not a single maid remained by Qi Yuchen’s side.
At an age full of playful energy, Qi Yuchen felt liberated without servants following him around. During the day, he climbed trees to catch birds; at night, he simply slept in whichever courtyard he found.
After a few days of such unruly behavior, Qi Zhaoye encountered him with dirty, disheveled clothes and unkempt hair that had grown too long to be properly tied.
Qi Zhaoye attended school during the day and studied or practiced calligraphy at night. Having been distracted for just a few days, he found his younger brother in such a slovenly state.
Upon learning of Wang Shi’s actions, Qi Zhaoye was furious. He immediately took Qi Yuchen to confront her, only to find that Wang Shi, hailing from the streets, threw a tantrum louder than any child.
“What’s wrong with having a few more people care for my son who isn’t even a year old yet?”
“My husband left his own family and ancestors to be adopted into yours, managing everything for you brothers and worrying about this entire household. Is it easy? And look at you—you don’t even call me sister-in-law when you see me. I merely borrowed a few servants, and you’re already resentful. It just goes to show how difficult it is to raise young masters from wealthy families. I suppose we should serve you on our knees like oxen or horses!”
“We’re not worthy of having servants. Take them back, take them all back! I’ll jump into the well with my son. We dare not bask in your brothers’ glory, lest you chase after us to find fault.”
As she spoke, she slapped her own face, her gold accessories jingling and swaying wildly. Her shrewish and shameless demeanor terrified Qi Yuchen, who cried and hid behind Qi Zhaoye.
Qi Zhaoye was at a loss, watching her hysterical, almost ill-like outburst, fearing she might actually jump into the well.
Leaving Jingyiju, his heart still raced.
Recalling his first meeting with Qi Dayong and his wife half a month ago—dressed in coarse cloth, simple, honest, and smiling so warmly—how could everything change so quickly!
His attendant Zhegui advised, “That couple is in it together. They don’t see you two young masters as real brothers at all. They only care about raising their own son well. Why not seek out your uncles and have them expelled?”
They should indeed be driven out.
Qi Zhaoye’s face flushed with anger. “Why bother with the uncles? It’s just the three of them. We can have a few guards throw them out.”
Zhegui hesitated. “The servants’ deeds of sale are all in Wang Shi’s hands. Even if I go, I doubt I could order them around…”
“Deeds of sale?” Qi Zhaoye was puzzled. He had no idea what that meant.
Since his birth, the household servants had attended to him, attentive to his every need. He thought they did so for their monthly wages, rewards, and out of loyalty. He had never heard of buying or selling people or deeds of sale.
He went to seek the steward’s help, only to find the steward had been replaced. He wanted to ask his uncles to intervene but couldn’t get the coachman to take him. Left with no choice, he had to walk there himself.
But when he reached the side gate, the gatekeeper who usually bowed and scraped to him now blocked his way with a stiff arm, offering a false smile as he said, “Eldest Young Master, Master Dayong has ordered that you and the Second Young Master are still young and might get lost. From now on, if you wish to go out, you must have a written order from either him or Madam Wang.”
He needed permission from two outsiders just to leave the house?
Qi Zhaoye couldn’t swallow this insult and went alone to confront Qi Dayong. Upon entering, he saw him holding an unfamiliar woman in his arms, the room filled with the pungent scents of powder and alcohol.
Qi Dayong lifted his head drunkenly from the woman’s embrace and shot him an impatient glance. “What time is it? Shouldn’t you be studying?”
An inkstone lay overturned on the floor, empty wine jars were scattered about, and damp wine stains soaked the pages of books. A sharp sword leaned against the cabinet by the wall, its hilt still wrapped with a strip of brightly colored fabric—a woman’s sash…
Qi Zhaoye couldn’t believe his eyes.
His father’s courtyard had always been simple and serene, never allowing just anyone to enter. After learning of his father’s death, he had ordered this courtyard sealed off. Yet Qi Dayong had taken it upon himself to move in and even brought such a frivolous woman here, defiling his father’s honor.
Forgetting all propriety, he roared, “You beast! How dare you desecrate my father’s courtyard like this?”
“Bah!” Qi Dayong’s eyes were red from drink. “The man’s dead. Who cares who lives in the courtyard? If your father’s unhappy, let him crawl out of his grave and teach me a lesson!”
A half-grown brat was nothing.
Furious, Qi Zhaoye had thought the family had welcomed a brother and sister-in-law to care for them, but instead, they were nothing but thieves!
He picked up the sword, tore off the sash wrapped around its hilt, drew the blade, gripped it tightly with both hands, and swung it at the thief.
“Ah!” the woman shrieked, scrambling out of Qi Dayong’s embrace.
Seeing the sharp blade, Qi Dayong sobered slightly. He stood up, dodged the strike, then grabbed the boy’s slender wrist with one hand. With a forceful squeeze, the sickening crunch of bones shifting echoed through the room.
Qi Zhaoye screamed in pain, and the sword clattered to the floor.
Qi Dayong raised his other hand and slapped the boy’s face repeatedly, then spat on the ground. “Still think you’re some precious young master? If it weren’t for my kindness, would you even have a roof over your head and food in your belly? So hard to please—well, I won’t bother anymore!”
With that, he lifted the boy by the wrist and hurled him hard against the wall.
Qi Zhaoye’s body slammed into the wall like overripe fruit, then slid to the ground, immediately losing consciousness.
Author’s Note: