The Ye family courtyard fell silent. Under the intense scrutiny of his children, Ye Wangshan trembled for a long moment before finally standing to fetch paper from his room.
As a Tong Sheng scholar, Ye Wangshan had spent his early years teaching his own children at home. He kept his brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone locked away in his private quarters, treating them as precious treasures. He had always guarded them carefully, fearing the many children in the house might accidentally damage them.
He had only just brought the materials out and was still grinding the ink when Madam Ye, who had been hiding in the room, lunged at him like a madwoman.
Following close behind her was a young girl of eight or nine—the eldest granddaughter of the Ye family, the same one who had just poured water for Ye Jia in the main hall. The girl bore little resemblance to the rest of the Ye family, inheriting her mother’s broad, square face. Sensing the tension among the adults earlier, she had immediately slipped away to inform her mother.
Madam Ye burst into the room, grabbed Ye Wangshan’s arm, and collapsed to the floor, wailing.
At the sight of her tears, the young girl glanced at the adults’ grim faces and bolted from the room. Moments later, three teenage boys rushed into the courtyard. The oldest looked about fourteen or fifteen, while the youngest was barely twelve. The youngest sobbed as if facing a life-or-death parting, but the eldest remained silent, his young face set in a grim mask as he stared at his grandfather.
“Grandfather,” he said, “Mother was wrong. Whatever punishment you decide today, we will accept it.”
As soon as he spoke, Madam Ye slapped him across the face. She cursed him for being unfilial, screaming that he should have protected his own mother. “I might as well have raised a goat!” she shrieked, raging and cursing while Ye Wangshan did nothing but sigh in despair.
Ye Jia silently stuffed the silver back into her pocket. Without another word, she rose and left.
Outside, Zhou Jingchen was returning with the physician, a large bundle of medicine in his hand. Seeing Ye Jia emerge from the house, he caught her arm. “What happened?” he asked softly.
Ye Jia knew the ancient world favored sons over daughters, and she knew Ye Wangshan never truly saw her as a person. But she had never imagined he would be willing to sacrifice his own wife’s life for his grandson. With a man like Ye Wangshan at the helm, the Ye family would have gone extinct if the women hadn’t been able to bear sons.
“Let’s go,” she said. “As long as the root of the problem remains, no amount of outside help will matter.”
Ye Qingjiang, who had rushed out after her, froze. He stood there awkwardly, his eyes instantly reddening.
“Third Sister,” he called softly.
Ye Jia turned to face him. She had spoken the truth and met his gaze steadily. It was Ye Qingjiang who couldn’t bring himself to look up.
After a long moment, Ye Qingjiang seemed to steel his resolve. He gritted his teeth and burst into the room, grabbing the brush and ink from the table.
“Father,” he declared, “if you won’t divorce Eldest Brother’s wife today, I’ll do it for you! When Eldest Brother’s son, Lin, returns and blames us, let him blame me alone!”
The Ye family’s sons were all literate, taught by Ye Wangshan from a young age. But while the eldest, Ye Qingshan, showed some talent, the others struggled to excel. Even so, the family couldn’t afford to keep him in school, and he eventually left to raise sheep in the village.
Eight years ago, when the military conscripted men from the village, every household had to contribute. With three sons, the burden should have fallen on the younger two, as the eldest was expected to establish his own household. But Ye Qingjiang was too frail, and Ye Qinghe was too young—the youngest son, whom their parents couldn’t bear to part with. So, Ye Qingshan stepped forward as the eldest brother to take their place.
A few years later, another call for soldiers came. Without Ye Qingshan, one of the other brothers had to go. But Ye Qingjiang happened to be ill, and though Ye Qinghe volunteered, his parents refused to let him. This time, Ye Lin, the eldest son of the first branch, had just turned sixteen. He stepped forward to take the place of the other brothers.
This was why the rest of the family endured Madam Ye’s bullying. She dared to be so arrogant because her husband and son had contributed so much to the household. The younger siblings and their families were all indebted to the first branch.
Madam Ye collapsed to the floor, slapping her thighs as she wailed. Her routine was always the same: first, she lamented her own wretched fate, then she accused the Ye family of being cruel-hearted. She screamed that the second branch was feigning kindness while maliciously bullying her in her husband’s absence, and that the entire Ye family was black-hearted and ungrateful.
The men of the Ye family flushed with shame. The third son-in-law, visiting for the first time, was mortified to witness such a scene. Their dignity was utterly shattered.
Ye Wangshan’s chest heaved with fury, his face contorted. Finally, he slammed a stool onto the floor with a crash. The room fell instantly silent.
Madam Ye’s wails cut short. Ye Wangshan pointed a trembling finger at her nose.
“I will write to Eldest Brother myself,” he seethed. “I’ll ask him how he intends to deal with a wife who has driven her own mother half to death. There is no place for you in this house anymore. Second Brother, give me the brush. We are sending your sister-in-law back to the Zhang family right now. Anyone who dares to stop us will be sent away too!”
At his words, the crying children immediately fell silent.
Ye Wangshan grabbed a brush and sat down to write the letter. Seeing his resolve, Madam Ye lunged forward in a desperate attempt to snatch it from him. But no matter how hard she fought, she was no match for his strength. When Ye Wangshan truly lost his temper, she couldn’t even put up a fight.
At this point, there was no turning back from the decision to divorce her. With the new son-in-law present and their children and grandchildren watching, Ye Wangshan still had his pride to consider.
No matter how Madam Ye struggled, Ye Qingjiang ruthlessly dragged her away to be sent back to the Zhang Family.
She wailed and pleaded, claiming she knew her wrongs now, but Ye Qingjiang ignored her. The entire family’s chaotic scene drew the attention of the neighbors, who gathered to watch.
Ye Jia had no choice but to retreat back into the house. Upon entering, she saw Zhou Jingchen handing the medicine to Fourth Sister Ye.
It was the first time Fourth Sister Ye had met her third brother-in-law. She kept her head down, not daring to meet his eyes, and scurried off to the small kitchen to brew the medicine.
Ye Wangshan’s expression had softened considerably after speaking with Zhou Jingchen. As Ye Jia entered, he gave her a distracted nod.
She was still trying to make sense of the gesture when a soft voice called out from outside.
“Third Sister.”
She turned to see a window in the small room on the west side pushed open. A gaunt boy, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, leaned out. He was painfully thin.
He stared at Ye Jia for a long moment before asking, “Do you want to come in and sit for a while?”
Ye Jia struggled to recognize him, unsure if he was a nephew or a younger brother. Still, she followed him inside.
The room was dim, lit only by the single window. As she lifted the curtain, a sharp, pungent smell of medicine filled her nostrils. The bed was positioned right by the window, and the young man was sitting up.
Ye Jia raised an eyebrow. Broken legs, she thought. This must be Ye Qinghe. She had assumed his paralysis meant a spinal injury—the kind that would leave him bedridden and unable to even sit up. But a single glance confirmed he was merely crippled in his legs.
The family had taken good care of him; his room was surprisingly clean.
“Sister, sit,” he said.
Without a word, Ye Jia sat on the edge of his bed.
Ye Qinghe had witnessed everything that had unfolded within the family during his confinement, and it had only served to fuel his rage. He had always been the most temperamental of the Ye children, save for Ye Jia herself. Even as a young boy, he’d been fierce. As he grew older, his temper had mellowed, but his fierce streak remained, always urging him to break free and explore. If he hadn’t fallen from the mountain six months ago and ended up like this, he would have been the only one capable of keeping Madam Ye in line.
But ever since he’d become paralyzed, Madam Ye had grown bold. He could seethe with fury, but he was powerless; after all, a crippled man couldn’t lay a hand on her.
Ye Qinghe’s eyes burned with hatred as he spoke. But hatred alone was useless. He was confined to his bed, unable to even leave the room, while his Second Brother’s soft nature meant he couldn’t be relied upon. The household was spiraling into chaos, and he could only watch.
He had called Ye Jia in not to say anything specific, but simply because he wanted to see her. They had always clashed, their personalities like flint and steel, even as children. But he knew their parents had sold his sister to the Zhou family to pay for his medical treatment.
Guilt gnawed at him. He looked up at Ye Jia, his gaze eager. “How have you been… with the Zhou family?”
“Just so,” she replied, her voice flat.
Ye Jia said no more. Her gaze drifted down to his legs.
The weather had turned warm, and the bedding on the bed was thin. He didn’t need it to stay warm, yet he kept it pulled up. Ye Jia’s eyes swept over his legs, and she froze. The angle of his limbs was wrong—so obviously misaligned that even a layperson could see the problem.
When Ye Qinghe realized she was staring at his legs, his face drained of color. He snatched the blanket and yanked it over his lower body.
Ye Jia noticed his distress and calmly looked away.
The two siblings had always been at odds, and now they had nothing left to say. Even with Ye Jia’s cold demeanor, Ye Qinghe couldn’t muster his usual temper. He mumbled a few words, his voice trailing off. In the end, he managed only a single, broken sentiment: he had failed her.
Ye Jia listened for a moment, nodding slowly. She couldn’t help herself—she walked over and, while Ye Qinghe wasn’t paying attention, pinched his leg bone.
The touch confirmed it immediately: the bone had set crookedly. No wonder he couldn’t stand. She didn’t want to meddle, but if the bone were intact, she might have been able to break it and reset it properly.
After sitting in his room for a while, she left. Just outside the door, she ran into a young girl.
The girl didn’t say a word to Ye Jia, turning and fleeing the moment she saw her. Though Ye Jia didn’t recognize her, the girl’s square face was a mirror image of Madam Ye’s. She didn’t care about the glare she’d received; she had been listening nearby when Ye Jia had demanded Ye Wangshan divorce his own mother.
Ye Jia ignored her and returned to the east room to check on Madam Ye Su.
There was someone else in the room now—Ye Jia’s second sister-in-law, whom she had never met before.
The woman was dull-witted and looked far older than her years, likely from a lifetime of field work. Standing next to Madam Ye Su, it was hard to tell which one looked more aged. She must have just returned from somewhere, as her clothes and legs were still splattered with mud. When she saw Ye Jia, she stood up and called out. Ye Jia nodded, walking over to find that Madam Ye Su had already woken up.
At the sight of Ye Jia, Madam Ye Su burst into tears before she could even speak. She had withered to a frail figure, her shoulders shaking with sobs that were heartbreaking to behold.
The gloom hanging over the family was suffocating. The pitiful always have something to be hated for, Ye Jia thought. What good was all this crying? She was never one for idle chatter, so after a few brief questions, she fell silent.
Madam Ye Su’s sobs eventually subsided when her third daughter didn’t offer a word of comfort.
Just then, Fourth Sister Ye arrived with a bowl of medicine. After helping Madam Ye Su drink it, the group filed out of the room. Standing in the courtyard was awkward, so Second Sister-in-law Ye gestured for them to continue the conversation in her own room.
Ye Jia followed them, her mind already on the next steps. Regardless of whether Eldest Brother Ye would return with a decision on how to punish Madam Ye, Zhou Jingchen had already paid for the medicine. Ye Jia didn’t know where he’d gotten the money, but it was gone now—they couldn’t ask for it back. Still, they needed a plan.
“What do you want to do next?” Ye Jia asked Fourth Sister Ye.
The younger girl had not slept for over twenty-four hours, the trauma of her assault still fresh. She had held back her tears until now, mindful of their mother’s fragile health. But at her sister’s question, the dam broke. Tears streamed down her face.
“Sister, after what happened… I can’t imagine ever marrying.”
For years, Fourth Sister Ye and Fifth Sister Ye had borne the brunt of the household chores, while their eldest sister-in-law, Madam Ye, refused to lift a finger. Fourth Sister Ye looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. “Do you have any work at your place? I could help you out, if you’d give me a place to stay and a meal.”
“What about the rest of it?” Ye Jia pressed.
Fourth Sister Ye’s expression wavered. After a long silence, her voice hardened with hatred. “I want to sue my sister-in-law and her sister.”