Guan Xiaomei was overjoyed. Such beautiful colors—could she really have clothes like this? She nodded repeatedly and said sweetly, “Thank you, sister.”
Xiyue smiled at the little girl. She then held a small meeting with the three children: “Don’t go into the kitchen yourselves. I’ll bring you food. Anyone who breaks this rule will get nothing from me again. I know you work hard at grandfather’s house, but here you don’t have to. However, you mustn’t cause trouble.”
The three nodded eagerly. Xiyue gave each of them two eggs, two steamed buns, and some candied fruits. Happy and content, they promised not to make mischief.
Xiyue, thinking in modern terms, wanted peaceful coexistence with the Guan children. Their young minds shouldn’t inherit the adults’ scheming and greed. As for her birth parents, she felt mixed emotions—having occupied their daughter’s body and with a blood relation, she felt both sympathy and a bit of guilt. If she could help, she would.
The house was progressing smoothly, but Madam Qian noticed that over the past two days, rice, flour, and meat from the kitchen had been disappearing. Despite her careful watch, and the fact that the helpers wore pocketless clothes to prevent theft, items kept vanishing. She quietly told Xiyue, who instructed her to keep it secret.
Since nothing went missing during the day, the thefts must have happened at night after the doors were locked. That left only two possibilities: either the key was stolen, or someone skilled could open the lock without it.
That night, with no moon and only scattered stars, Xiyue and Chunliu hid behind a mound of earth. By midnight, they spotted two shadows sneaking toward the kitchen. Soon, the door was opened and a dim light shone inside. Xiyue and her maid sprang into action, pulling the door tightly and shouting, “Thief! Stop them!”
The kitchen, a separate storage room managed by Madam Qian, had no windows—just this one door. The thieves panicked and tried to force it open, but it was impossible. Neighbors soon arrived with sticks and torches. When the door was forced open, two women were caught, crouched on the floor, covering their faces in shame.
It turned out to be Mrs. Sun, from Old Guan’s second branch, and Lyu, the daughter-in-law of Madam Qian’s family. Madam Qian was mortified and grabbed Lyu, ready to scold her. Lyu begged for mercy. The theft had been premeditated: the rice, flour, and meat were tempting, and Sun had conspired with Lyu, thinking that while Madam Qian slept, the key was easy to steal.
They had succeeded two nights in a row without anyone noticing, assuming Xiyue was careless.
Madam Qian, embarrassed that the thieves were from her own household, asked Xiyue to relieve her of duty: “Xiyue, I’ve failed your trust. I never imagined my own daughter-in-law would do this. I have nothing to say—let others do this work from now on.”
Lyu was terrified—her mother-in-law would be furious. Sun tried to shift blame: “It was Lyu’s idea. She said even if her mother slept through a thunderstorm, she could take the key from the bedside easily.”
Lyu protested: “It was you, Sun! You asked me secretly where the key was. You said it was all Xiyue’s things; even if she found out, she wouldn’t mind, it was to honor elders.”
The matter caused a huge scene, drawing curious villagers. Yet the Guan family did not appear. Xiyue asked Yang Lizheng: “Uncle Yang, this is a serious theft. By our law, how should they be punished?”
People were surprised—Xiyue intended to take them to the authorities. Though the stolen rice, flour, and meat were not extremely valuable, theft was punishable by up to three years of detention. Even if not caught, bribery or litigation would be needed to settle matters. Traditionally, villagers avoided reporting to officials, but if reported, Sun and Lyu would be in serious trouble.
They begged for mercy. The crowd, worried about household disruption, also tried to intervene.
Xiyue remained calm: “If I pursue this, you could face three years in prison. This is your first offense, so I’ll let you off. But if it happens again, I will report it to the authorities without hesitation.”
The villagers were stunned—Xiyue was not someone to be bullied. Even her own elder aunt could be sent to jail if she wanted. Then she added: “Though I won’t send you to the authorities this time, you must make amends. Return the stolen goods and spend a night kneeling in the ancestral hall. Uncle Yang, what do you think?”
Yang Lizheng nodded. Even without involving the authorities, there had to be consequences. Stealing set a bad example for the village.
Sun and Lyu were forced to the ancestral hall. The next morning, Xiyue, with a few helpful villagers, went to the Guan household to retrieve the stolen goods.
The elders of the second branch realized what was happening but still tried to play tough: “What do you want to do?”
Sun, like a frost-bitten eggplant, weakly said: “Father, mother, please return the rice, flour, and meat from the past two days to Xiyue.”
Madam Wang feigned ignorance: “Rice and meat? I don’t know anything about that.”
Guan Lao San and Madam Zhang were shocked—they hadn’t known that the stolen food had been eaten by the other branches during construction. The children, Xiaomei and Ziyuan, had been sent out to gather firewood or pull weeds, eating only plain corn buns, unaware of the theft.
Sun pleaded: “Father, mother, a lot is still left—please return it to Xiyue. If we don’t, I’ll be reported to the authorities.”
The second branch elders Guan He and Yin also begged Madam Wang: “Mother, please return it. You’ve been caught red-handed—denying it won’t help.”
Wang’s temper flared: “You useless kids! I eat a bit of my granddaughter’s rice and meat, what’s the big deal? Xiyue, as long as you’re still a Guan, if you keep forcing us, I… I’ll report you to the authorities for unfilial disobedience!”