Chapter 49

Tan Shouyi left the palace, got straight into his carriage at the gate, and told the driver to take him to Sanjiagou.

The old driver had followed Tan Shouyi many years. He said one thing: "My lord, in weather like this, the whole household's at the mansion..."

He got out only half of it, then swallowed the rest. He helped Tan Shouyi into the carriage and drove slowly out of the city.

But a dozen-odd li out from the gate, the road gave out.

Tan Shouyi jumped down, stood in the vast white waste, and, without turning, told the old driver: "Go back. Tell Shiyuan to bring the men of the house, all of them, to your Second Master's shrine. Say I have something to say. And ask Mr. Nandu to come too, and bring those few trusted men of mine..."

The old driver made to say something more, but he saw Tan Shouyi's face gone savage and held it in after all.

The driver went far off and could no longer see him. Then Tan Shouyi raised a hand to shield his brow from the wind and snow, and of a sudden gave an aged, anguished cry: "Son, my son... my son!"

He began to sob aloud, and, in the knee-deep snow, struggled step by step toward Sanjiagou...

At Sanjiagou the unfinished Duke Wu Su's shrine had no doors or windows yet. Wind and snow blew in now and again, and drifts blown up before a red-draped statue made the place bleak and cold.

The censer before the statue stood empty and clean. Not one stick of incense was in it.

When the court granted the Tan house its burial-ground it was already early winter, so Tan Shize's coffin had not gone into the earth. It was only bricked up for the time on the open ground to the right of the shrine.

To the left of the shrine stood a few army tents. In the bitter cold, several soldiers sat round a fire, warming themselves and turning a whole sheep on the spit.

Whatever else, this was the resting place of Tan Shize's coffin. To butcher and roast so brazenly was truly outrageous, and yet, from the heap of bones behind the tents, this plainly was not the first time.

It was surely a daily thing.

The soldier turning the sheep sliced off a piece, looked at how done it was, and, not daring to eat it himself, called into the tent: "My lord! It's roasted, my lord!"

A good while later Wu Xiu came out of the tent, wrapped in a quilt, filthy and disheveled, and sneezed into the wind.

He sat down, all put-upon, took the wine-skin his man handed him, and drank two mouthfuls. He set to cursing the ungrateful Tan house, and when he'd warmed a little, he flung off the quilt into the tent behind him, seized a glistening, well-marbled rib of mutton, and gnawed at it.

The Wu house had truly stood higher than the Tan in the old dynasty, but times had changed, and now they lived by reading the Tan house's face. To think that he too had spent his ox-strength going before and behind, and all for a few stinking army-slaves, and the great lord set him to guard a shrine as penance?

Damn it!

Cold snow and hot liquor, and the cold wind on top. The drink went to Wu Xiu's head. He held up the wine-skin, wobbled over to the shrine, first splashed some wine at its gate, then loosed his trousers and said to it, grinning: "Here! Tan the Second! Drink your grandsire's piss..."

He was laughing loud, splashing his winding stream at the shrine gate, half done, when he heard his man say, trembling: "M-my lord..."

Wu Xiu pulled up his trousers, turned, and cursed: "Son of a bitch, what are you yelling for! Can't a thing wait till this lord's had his ease..."

But his man, unlike other times, wasn't smiling and coaxing. They were all staring one way, their voices bent crooked with fright.

"M-my lord, there, there's someone there!"

Wu Xiu started and looked where they looked. And sure enough, in the vast white of heaven and earth, a figure stood, watching them, without stirring.

"Go! Fetch this lord's saber! Who, who's there! Don't you know what place this is? Courting death! You want to die, come on over!"

Wu Xiu gave the order, trembling. His men scrambled and crawled into the tent and after a good while ran out cradling a few sabers.

The blood in Tan Shouyi's whole body was frozen. His tears and snot had set into icicles on his face, and he didn't feel the cold. By sheer force of will he walked, step by step, toward the place where his second son lay.

He saw the spot at last, and, wading the snow, came step by step toward it...

Wu Xiu and his men held their sabers up, shouting threats the whole time, but they'd shrunk into a knot, and only when the snow-man drew near did they make out that this was a man in court robes.

Wu Xiu came trembling to look closely, and knew him at last, and thought: this is bad.

The steel saber dropped from his hand. He fell to his knees with a thud and cried: "In-law, my lord in-law..."

Tan Shouyi turned his stiff head and looked round, and at last saw, on the ground by the roasting-fire, a flung-down wine-skin.

By instinct he walked over, picked it up, then slowly went to the shrine gate, braced himself with difficulty on the doorframe and sat, tugged the stopper out after several pulls, tipped his head back, and drank...

The snow began to fall again. Wu Xiu and the rest knelt not far off, not daring to move a muscle...

Only as the light failed did Tan Shouyi's advisor, Xie Nandu, arrive with his guards.

He took one look at the state of Tan Shouyi and at once unfastened his own fox-fur and draped it over him.

And so, on the open ground before the shrine, more than a dozen bonfires were lit... And when the sky was fully dark, Tan Shiyuan came, with a dozen-odd males of the house, big and small.

He saw the fires from afar and caught his eldest son Tan Weitong's hand: "In a moment, if your grandfather beats me, however hard, though he break my bones, you must none of you plead for me."

Tan Weitong went white with shock: "Father! Why so? Grandfather, he...?"

On Tan Shiyuan's ever-confident face at last showed a flicker of dread: "You don't know your grandfather. Ai, get past this hurdle today, and your father will tell you of the old days in full..."

He slowly put out a hand, stroked his grown son's head, and smiled: "Your father swore, in those days, that if ever I were a father, the wrongs I bore on my own body I'd never let my sons bear, not by a hair... Your father hasn't much ability, but as a father, I'm far better than he was. Heh! Ha ha!"

Why so? Just so!

Hmph. All this while, hadn't he himself been waiting for this very day? The old man had lost his best-loved son. If he didn't loose his spite on someone, this thing would never be got past...

His son held him up as they came to the shrine gate. Tan Shiyuan looked round first, saw the sheep charred black over the fire, saw Wu Xiu kneeling near to fainting, cursed inwardly, then, with the children, knelt outside the shrine to beg pardon.

His smallest grandson was but three this year, and already blue in the face with cold on the road. He saw the elders drop down one after another, took fright, and burst into heart-rending wails.

The child's cry roused Tan Shouyi, who'd been sitting blank at the shrine gate. He opened his dim old eyes and said to Mr. Nandu: "Go, take the little ones into the tents to warm..."

A few guards came and carried the children off. The crying slowly ceased...

Kneeling, Tan Shiyuan stole careful glances at his father, straining to read his face and weigh his every word.

Bringing the little ones had been right after all. A child's crying always softened the father's heart a little.

He let out a small breath, and at last worked up the courage: "Fa... Father!"

Tan Shouyi looked up at him, and actually smiled, and spoke in a tone rarely his, aged and tender: "I remember, your birthday, Shiyuan, is in the seventh month. The day your mother bore you, there was wind and thunder and lightning. I said that day, what manner of child is this come to my house, with so great a stir?... And to think, my son now has a third generation. You're a grandfather yourself. Your father's been forever on the road. I can't even name all my great-grandchildren."

Tan Shiyuan's heart lurched. He lay on the ground and said, tears in his voice: "Father's long been away. Your son too has gazed at the clouds and longed for you, wishing only to be at Father's side and serve you often. These years, watching the children grow, hard as it is to raise them, sitting alone I'd think: how much harder Father worked to raise me..."

Tan Shouyi smiled at him, encouraging, approving: "My son has learned the Classic of Filial Piety well."

Tan Shiyuan lifted his face, full of longing: "Father, you forget, this you taught me yourself, at three years old."

Tan Shouyi thought a moment, then nodded as at a sudden light: "So it was, yes, yes. I'd forgotten. And my son, do you still remember all I taught you?"

Tan Shiyuan looked up, silent a moment, then asked, his voice trembling: "I, I don't know what Father means?"

Tan Shouyi rose slowly, turned, walked into the shrine, drew a breath, seized the red cloth draping the statue, and swept it off...

The cloth fell away, and Tan Shize sat his horse with saber level, gazing into the distance. Tan Shouyi stood unmoving, looking at his second son, and after a long while said: "This, it's carved well, like him. Like! Like my son... my son, so fine a figure! And this horse, I gave him that horse. It's good of you to remember your brother's fancies..."

He slowly put out a hand, and, without turning, waved it once. Several guards closed in together and pinned Tan Shiyuan, and gagged his mouth.

Still without turning, Tan Shouyi said: "My son, the truth is, I taught your brother too. I said to him..."

Tan Shiyuan struggled with all his might, muffled cries in his throat. In terror he watched an old guard, face cold, draw a short knife from the leather pouch at his waist, take a mouthful of liquor, and spray it over the blade... He fought the harder, thinking his father meant to kill him.

Tan Weitong and the rest went white with horror, but were all held down, unable to move or speak.

The old soldier walked, step by step, to Tan Shiyuan's side, knocked off his sable cap, seized his hair, and cut, once, and again, and again... And so Tan Shiyuan's grey-streaked hair fell to the ground, lock by lock...

Inside the shrine, Tan Shouyi began, in his aged voice, to recite aloud: "'Dare I ask, is there in the sage's virtue aught greater than filial piety?' The Master said: 'Of all that heaven and earth engender, man is the noblest. Of man's conduct, none is greater than filial piety, and in filial piety, none is greater than to revere one's father, and in revering one's father, none is greater than to match him with Heaven, and such a one was the Duke of Zhou... The way of father and son is Heaven's own nature, and the bond of sovereign and subject. Father and mother bear us. No continuance is greater than this. The sovereign-parent watches over us. No bounty weighs heavier. Thus he who loves not his own kin but loves others, this is called a defiance of virtue...'"

The old man recited the whole Classic of Filial Piety through, then fell silent, wiped away his tears, and turned. His face was set like iron now.

He walked, step by step, to his eldest son, now shorn bald, sitting wooden-faced, and said low: "I taught you all at three years old! Your brother remembered it. You did not...

"So let your father teach you one line more: an elder's command may not be defied! Your brother did well! My son, all your life, has gone against me. They say there are two kinds of children of one's own flesh: one comes to collect a debt, one to repay a kindness. Your brother repaid his, and he's gone... but your debt, your father can no longer collect. Leave it to the next life. Son, go and stay in the temple now, and chant the sutras well to atone for your brother..."

He bent and put his mouth to his son's ear: "Did you truly think that once your brother was gone, everything would be yours? Even if I didn't send you off, that Yang Zao would come for you sooner or later! How did I bear so stupid a fool!"

Terror showed on Tan Shiyuan's face and he struggled violently, but several old guards hoisted him onto a horse made ready beforehand.

Heaven and earth lay deep in snow. Even in the dead of night it was all silver-white... Tan Shouyi watched the distance, watched until his son was out of sight, then walked slowly to his grandsons, frightened stiff, and gave a small wave. The guards let go, and before the shrine rose a chorus of weeping.

Tan Shouyi walked, step by step, to Tan Weixin, who wore a satin robe with sable at the collar, kicked him over, and demanded: "Your father is just dead! Why do you wear silk?"

But Tan Weixin scrambled up and shouted at his grandfather: "The one you've tied up and taken, he's my father! I'm no one else's son! I'm my father's son... I'm my father's son!!"

Tan Shouyi only smiled: "Good! Like your father! A decisive spirit in you..."

Tan Weixin was about to argue back, when a louder cry came from beside him: "Father!!!"

Tan Weitong had come to himself at last out of his shock. He broke free and ran, headlong, after the way his father had been taken...

"Father..."

Mr. Nandu made to have him stopped, but Tan Shouyi checked him: "Let him go! They're father and son. Follow him. When he can run no more, bring him back."

And so Tan Shouyi sat down again by the fire, and waited, silent, until the sky slowly lightened, and the old soldiers half-carried the run-out, frozen-stiff Tan Weitong back.

By the fire they wrapped Tan Weitong in a quilt. He shook hard, and only after a good draught of liquor came round.

The ninth of the twelfth month, first year of Yong'an. After the Great Snow the snow had stopped, and the glare off it stung the eyes shut.

Tan Shouyi stood, hands behind his back, looking into the distance, and said in his hoarse voice: "We Tan spring from the Si surname, one blood with Chong Bo of high antiquity, with Yu the Great, with Goujian. In dynasty after dynasty our house has never fallen behind, and now, little by little, we're pushed to the margins..."

He turned and looked at his bewildered grandsons, walked to the fire, tossed in a few sticks of dry wood, and went on: "By rights, on the strength of your second uncle's bond with the new Emperor, and of these years in which our Tan house went before and behind and beggared itself, half our kin lost, we'd won a little fresh momentum, and then your father would not suffer your second uncle to live..."

Tan Weixin, silent till now, looked up and argued: "However hard my father is, he'd never have done Second Uncle to death!"

Tan Shouyi looked at him and said, flat: "That is not your father. The one in the shrine is..."

Tan Weitong argued loudly: "I'm no son of a lowborn conc..."

Before it was out, Tan Shouyi struck him across the right cheek with a stick still trailing sparks.

Half the boy's face swelled and split at once, and he spat out a tooth.

Tan Weitong threw off his quilt, went and gathered his brother in his arms, and glared at his grandfather.

Tan Shouyi smiled, unconcerned: "That you be made Ze'er's son, it wasn't I who said it, it was His Majesty. If you were unwilling, what were you doing back then...?"

No one spoke. Only the dry wood crackled.

A long while, and Tan Shouyi said: "From today, you'll keep a mourning-hut before your father, three years, and guard his tomb. And how your father became a god of war, I'll send men to teach you, exactly the same..."

Tan Weitong jeered: "Didn't Grandfather send Second Uncle off to be a monk, back then? Better send my third brother to keep my father company, no?"

Tan Shouyi shot him a look and gave a hmph: "I'd have liked to! Had he listened to me, this day would never have come. A pity, he had a grand ambition... You people..."

He stood, looked at the statue in the shrine, and said: "The disaster is before your eyes and you don't see it. Haven't you marked that ever since your second uncle died, the Emperor no longer trusts the Tan army?"

This time no one spoke.

Tan Shouyi turned and looked at Tan Weitong: "Not a fool, then. Ha, you're the clan heir, and a clan heir must hold his heart in the center, no leaning, no grief, no glee, fair and just, so he can carry the clan on, long and long. 'Tan' is no simple name, and the clan heir is the fixed pole-star of the several thousand souls of our Shaoshang Tan. Do you understand?"

Tan Weitong said no more. He looked at the shrine, and at his grandfather, and at the way his father had been taken, and at last set his teeth and, glaring hard at Tan Shouyi, said: "...Your grandson understands!"

Tan Shouyi looked at his face and smiled softly: "Take your time. I'll be waiting for you to pull me down, and bring your father home."

"Your grandson would never dare think it."

"Think it, by all means! I'd have you think it! It gladdens me that you think it! The Tan army has lost the Emperor's heart now, and no matter, the Emperor's heart. So long as you're useful, the sovereign will favor you a little. Your father was useless. A useless man, standing where he stood, is only trouble!"

He saw his eldest grandson shivering with cold and handed him the wine-gourd: "The urgent thing now is the Tan army's morale... do you follow?"

"Its morale?"

"Yes. Without the Long Saber Battalion, the Tan army has no heart. Your father was a fool, bent on sidelining your second uncle, and even with your uncle dead, wouldn't use his men. Tell me, if I were your father, what should be done?"

"...What?"

"Either make them vanish, or keep them in honor, reverently! It's a few taels of silver to buy a good name, and only so is a thing carried through to the end! Men soldier and stake their lives. Who doesn't want a good end? Well and good. When they can't even eat their fill, who'll bleed for you? Did you take yourselves for immortals, tossing off a line that all a man's sufferings in this life are his cultivation, that the more he suffers now the greater his blessings next life... A pity: you're only flesh and blood. You can't grant a man his next-life blessings! In the end it was that Yang, our Emperor, who reaped the great bargain!"

This time Tan Weitong asked nothing more.

No telling how long it was before a body of men and soldiers had opened a snow-road wide enough for one cart.

They helped Tan Shouyi into the carriage, and he found Tan Weitong beside him of a sudden, steadying his arm.

Tan Shouyi looked at his eldest grandson, and smiled after all. When he was seated within, Tan Weitong bowed outside the carriage: "I beg Grandfather, teach me to be a fit clan heir!"

That said, he slowly knelt.

Tan Shouyi leaned out, lifted the curtain, looked once more at Tan Shize's shrine, and said: "From today, keep the mourning with your brother. Men will come to teach you... As for the rank your father held, tomorrow I'll draft the memorial and have it lowered one degree. This house, willing or not, you'll have to shoulder it now."

Tan Weitong raised both hands over his head in reverence, and slowly bowed his farewell: "As you command!"

The road back went far smoother. Tan Shouyi shut his eyes to rest, and amid the sway of the carriage his advisor, Mr. Nandu, said: "Do not grieve, my lord. Nothing is built but something is broken first. There must be a passage. When the young masters come of age, they'll understand of themselves."

Tan Shouyi pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed: "Let us hope so. Shiyuan's three cubs, but for that spineless second one, the others will do. My blood, after all! Ha, I'll wait for them. If they're lost, they're lost. Let them fill a pauper's grave, and no matter. Only... those few old blades..."

Mr. Nandu thought a moment and said: "That's no hard thing. Our old estate keeps upward of twenty grandmasters. It's time they put out some effort too."

But Tan Shouyi said: "Only, the Jiusi Hall has just brought out its Ban on Brawls. We can't do as we pleased before. After all, those few have the Emperor's heart now."

Mr. Nandu said, smiling: "That's no hard thing either. By the new law, we've only to send them a commoner's challenge-notice and duel."

Tan Shouyi stroked his beard, thought, and nodded: "A good way, that. Only, the men Ze'er trained aren't easily beaten..."

"Rest easy, my lord. It's no battlefield mêlée, one against one is the rule."

"And if the duel's lost even so? Martial-world skill and battlefield skill are not the same, after all..."

"Then send another notice! And another!"

"Mm. So be it. For the old blades unbroken, the Tan army can forge no new blades... It's ill done by those men, but there's no other way."

The second day of the Great Snow, the snow stopped at dawn, and all Qingfeng was glad.

Early that day, Qi Qian'er had just come back from carrying grain to Mr. Qiu, and again, on the rooftops, met the two Jiusi Hall fools.

The two fools flung her a fresh notice and turned and fled.

Qi Qian'er read the notice through and went home, baffled. Springing down off the roof, she found Snow-aunt draped over her own courtyard wall.

Snow-aunt had two wild pheasants in hand and had waited there a while. She saw Qi Qian'er back and happily tossed the birds into her yard: "The meat's mine, the soup's yours."

Qi Qian'er picked up the pheasants, smiling: "But the soup's the most nourishing part."

Snow-aunt said, helpless: "Ai, my little son-in-law loves to gnaw the bones best! A misfortune of the house, and the daughter I raised no dutiful one, so I can only give way and gnaw the bones along with him."

Qi Qian'er, in fine spirits, laughed aloud, put on her shoes, and took the notice from her breast and tossed it to Snow-aunt.

Snow-aunt caught it and asked: "What's this?"

"Oh, an official notice. Says from now on there's to be no private brawling among the people, and after next spring, every walled city in Liang will build a dueling platform. From then, if there's a fight, the two sides send each other a challenge-notice, set a day, sign a death-bond on the platform, and settle the win or loss."

That was all! Snow-aunt lost interest at once, and flipped the notice back to Qi Qian'er: "We were physicians once, never martial-world folk. And besides, are you martial-world, then?"

These days Qi Qian'er heard nothing but martial-world this, martial-world that, and the news all came from the two fools on the roof.

The two fools were dogged. They kept at one thing, hoping Qi Qian'er would go and register at the Jiusi Hall as a recluse.

Not a chance! As if hopping about a bit made you martial-world? Qi Qian'er would die before owning it.

Back indoors, Qi Qian'er briskly boiled a great pot of water, meaning to kill the birds and scald off the feathers, when a knock came at the gate, and the old lady's voice called, surprised and pleased: "Qian'er, Qian'er! An honored guest at the door!"

Qi Qian'er hurried out and opened it, and there was the old lady, Xique on her back, looking at her, delighted.

Ever since she'd got her grandson's things, this old lady had watched over them at home and rarely gone out on her own. What was this?

The moment she saw Qi Qian'er, the old lady said: "The Tao house's eldest daughter-in-law came to bring me word! Go quick to the lane-mouth, little Hua'er's family has sent New Year gifts... aiyo, Yanjing does things properly, three whole cartloads of gifts!"

Qi Qian'er started. Yes, yes, as a proper mistress of a house, now at the year's end, she ought to be readying New Year gifts for every connection. That was a housekeeper's part.

Truly, how remiss of her.

She quickly changed her clothes, helped the old lady inside, gave her a few instructions, and went to the lane-mouth to receive them.

Before long the serving-woman the Chang house had sent came in, first kowtowed and greeted the old lady, then presented the gift-list.

This woman was surnamed Zhao. Coming in, she quietly cast her eyes about, a faint curl of scorn at her lip, but seeing the old lady, she praised her, a merciful face, a Bodhisattva reborn, and said Qi Qian'er was a peerless beauty, with a fine bearing.

Qi Qian'er had seen plenty of this sort. She smiled and took the list, and glancing down read: ten live sheep, ten each of hens and ducks, a hundred jin of dried vegetables of every kind, twenty jin of sauces, ten dan of coarse grain, twenty jin of fine rice.

This was how an official house lived: back and forth, each holding the other up, growing close and kin by it.

These were solid New Year gifts, measured to the household's circumstances. In a year like this, who knew how hard such things were to come by.

It had cost the old earl and little Hua'er, off suppressing the rebellion, no small thought. Leaving, they'd charged it be done, and gravely.

Qi Qian'er gave the list one look, set it by the table, and showed no great delight. The old lady, though, gazed eagerly at it, but, knowing she couldn't read, could only bear it.

Qi Qian'er herself poured Dame Zhao a bamboo cup of water.

Dame Zhao hurried to say she dared not, took it in both hands, and sat on a low stool to make her report.

Qi Qian'er sat properly and asked, smiling: "You see, I'm the junior. By rights I should have gone to your house first to pay my respects to the old lady, and to the elders and the sisters-in-law. Only, we've just settled in, and nothing's convenient, so I've failed in courtesy."

Dame Zhao said quickly, smiling: "Listen to you, my lady! Who isn't the same just now? Coming out today, our mistress said herself, beg the household's old patriarch and the young mistress not to think anything of it. In times like these one mustn't fuss over such small branches and leaves, and she said our two houses are true kin, to look to what's ahead, not to what is now... ha ha."

Qi Qian'er's heart eased a little, and she asked after the state of the house.

At that Dame Zhao's eyes moved, and she smiled and told her: the four men of the house were all off suppressing the rebellion now. At home were only the old lady and the mistress in the main court, and these gifts came from the main court.

Because the Chang house had yielded the marquisate, the Emperor had granted two extra viscountcies, so the house had had to divide, one gate, three households, though they lived in one compound.

The two young mistresses each ran her own court. The third generation was here already, the eldest branch's grandson was ten this year, and two little misses, one eight, one three. The eldest young master had two concubines besides, newly taken, not yet with child.

The second branch had a little young master of five, and one more in the second mistress's belly...

Qi Qian'er, hearing it, at once exclaimed in praise: truly, a flourishing house.

The old lady, who envied nothing so much as a house full of people, joined in the praise wholeheartedly.

Having got the household clear, Qi Qian'er went to the side-room, and before long came back cradling a great bundle, and opened it for Dame Zhao to see.

Dame Zhao looked down and was struck dumb. There was no help for it, palace brocade always dazzled.

Qi Qian'er was a woman with a mountain of brocade, after all.

This brocade she'd all set in order. What wasn't a full bolt she'd cut down from the best pieces.

She'd chosen lengths of a full zhang each, and gave Dame Zhao careful word, piece by piece: "Say too, my house has only just settled, and there's no broker's market yet, so I couldn't find a hand to send to your house, and I've failed sadly in courtesy!"

Dame Zhao hurried to soothe her again.

Qi Qian'er went on: "And though the house has a few heirloom flavors, we've no manor set up yet, so those must wait till after next autumn to be offered to the old patriarch. For now, it's only these few common things. I beg the elders won't blame us, we're mortified past bearing..."

At that Dame Zhao clicked her tongue and said quickly: "Aiyo, my lady! Forty years and more I've lived, and never seen satin so fine, and you call it common... aiyo, is what I've got on my back so much straw, then?"

Qi Qian'er laughed. The house truly wasn't much just now, but she couldn't show her straits in the open, she could only return gift for gift, and freely. There was no taking a person's advantage. Give-and-take was the whole meaning of proper dealing.

She held out two lengths of less-bright brocade: "This is palace-made brocade, granted from the palace. These two, steady in color with a hidden pattern, are for your old lady and your mistress. The gold-shot below are for the two young mistresses, a zhang each, enough for a full set. These blue-flowered are for the young masters, the peach-red for the young misses, five chi apiece.

"Go back and give my respects to the mistress and the young mistresses. Say that when spring warms next year I'll go and pester the household at your gate! Only, don't you scorn us then, my house has just the one good point... the people are honest, and they can eat!!"

Dame Zhao blinked, then burst out laughing with Qi Qian'er.

Last, Qi Qian'er dug from the very bottom of the bundle a little cloth packet, and opened it, a packet of small pearls.

These pearls were Ma Ergu's tribute of flattery to his little sister-in-law. He'd offered a pearl-sewn shoe, and Qi Qian'er had picked all the little pearls off it, never thinking she'd use them today.

The Chen house was only just finding its feet, and dared not take the least charity of anyone.

She said to Dame Zhao, smiling: "This is five taels of small pearls, holes already drilled, and all one lovely color, every one a new pearl! It's from our old lady to your old lady. Not a costly thing, but truly hard to come by. Take it and have the old lady set a pair of pearl shoes. When she entertains at New Year, she'll go out in good style, won't she!"

Dame Zhao had come out from the provinces with the Chang house, and had only just met with wealth. She'd never dreamed there was such a thing in the world as setting pearls onto shoes.

Leaving, she truly did back away with bow after bow, not daring to show the least of her former haughtiness.

When they'd gone, Qi Qian'er came back into the yard, and saw the old lady, Xique on her back, ready to leave.

A rare thing this time? The old lady would actually go empty-handed?

Qi Qian'er stood in the gateway teasing her: "Oh? Our old lady's not carrying off her share this time?"

The old lady rounded on her, furious, her face full of the pain of it: "Carry off, my foot! I, I can't afford the return gift! What sort of people are these, give us a little, and stick us for I don't know how much back... better not to keep this fine noble kin at all! Give me one grain of rice and I've to give three back, I'm not a fool!"