No one understands a servant better than another servant.
Nanny Liu swept her eyes over the courtyard maids and sighed inwardly.
Yes, servants were property—but first and foremost, they were human, not objects.
If Tao Yiran had not punished Nanny Cai today, it would have undermined her own dignity. But punishing her only stirred further unrest. Nanny Liu felt anxious and unsettled, while Tao Yiran, completely unfazed, simply asked her to fetch a bowl of mung bean soup.
Everyone in the courtyard had heard Nanny Cai’s shouting fit earlier. The servants were still uneasy, but now they had to prepare soup? A few maids even wiped away tears in secret.
When Xin An awoke from her nap, Chunyang and Chunlu eagerly recounted the commotion from the neighboring courtyard.
“Nanny Cai made a huge scene,” Chunyang said, eyes wide. “She cried about her loyalty, her hardships, her grievances—said everything that should and shouldn’t be said. It wasn’t until she’d finished yelling that someone finally gagged her.”
“Nanfeng knows a maid next door named Xiduo. She was crying too, quietly.”
To wake up and hear something so dramatic—Xin An forgot even to drink her tea. After all, in noble households, especially among titled families, the treatment of servants was supposed to be measured. Even if they were beaten or scolded, it had to be with cause. Dismissing a servant outright required solid evidence. In a residence with hundreds of staff, only two or three dozen actually served the master directly. Everything else—greetings, errands, tea service, message delivery—relied on the servants. If any link broke, the master would soon face chaos.
She already knew Tao Yiran was prideful and aloof, but she hadn’t expected her to say such things so fearlessly.
“There wasn’t even a reason?”
“Xiduo said it started when Nanny Cai was yelling at two lazy maids. The qin music stopped abruptly. Shortly after, Nanny Cai was summoned. Then everything happened.”
Xin An thought for a moment and understood. “She was interrupted while playing the qin.”
The two maids were startled. Was that really enough to trample Nanny Cai’s dignity into the dirt?
“But the Eldest Young Madam is so delicate,” Chunlu murmured, “and rarely speaks… She looks like she’d fall over in a breeze. Could she really be so unkind?”
Xin An smiled faintly. She understood Tao Yiran all too well.
Even in her past life, she had always received everything without lifting a finger. At her parents’ home, it was that way. Then it was Tang Mo. When Tang Mo was gone, Tang Rong took over—comparable to one of the twenty-four filial paragons. When had Tao Yiran ever had to worry for anything?
Someone who lived in effortless ease could hardly be expected to consider a servant’s feelings. In her mind, she was the mistress—there would always be more servants if needed. Why waste thought on them?
Even the household management had been handled for her. Why lift a finger?
“In her eyes, I likely count as a servant too.”
A servant managing other servants on her behalf.
“As for Nanny Cai…”
Let the wicked grind down the wicked.
Less than half an hour later, Chunyang returned with an update. “Nanny Liu sealed everyone’s mouths with a string of copper coins each. No one’s to speak a word of what happened today.”
Xin An merely responded with a soft “mm.” Tao Yiran always had someone clever by her side. Even if she didn’t know how to patch things up, once Tang Rong returned, he’d smooth it all over. They were husband and wife in the same boat—if one sank, so did the other.
“Our courtyard already knows about it. Should we—”
“No need.”
Xin An looked up. “You weren’t paid to keep quiet. Your mouths are your own. Why bother caring?”
Chunyang grinned. That was exactly her thinking. “We few are Second Young Madam’s own people—we wouldn’t gossip. But others… who knows? Even if someone complains, it won’t fall on us.”
When interests are involved between masters, servants inevitably must choose sides. Peace was never truly possible.
Just then, Tang Mo returned. His expression wasn’t great. Chunyang quickly withdrew.
He sat down and looked at Xin An. “That Liao Zhi was impossible to speak with. I made my case, but all I got in return was a few ‘hm,’ ‘understood,’ and ‘you may go.’ I couldn’t tell what any of it meant.”
Xin An handed him a cup of tea. “What else could it mean? He wasn’t impressed.”
Tang Mo’s mood had already been sour; this only made it worse. Xin An gently analyzed it for him.
“You’ve got a notorious reputation as a playboy. He’s a young commander who holds his household together—he must’ve gone through something major to rise so fast. With capable elders still around, for him to become head means he has both brains and backbone. A man like that would have pride.”
“Even if Father didn’t offend him in the past—which we can’t be sure of—he wouldn’t trust you right off the bat. He probably has high standards for his own people. Don’t rush. Take your time. Do your duty well, show your worth at the right moment, and opportunities will come.”
“If you don’t want to rely on connections and insist on earning everything yourself, the road will be much harder. Your reputation didn’t go bad in a day—it won’t be repaired in one either. Be patient.”
Tang Mo sighed. He had indeed been impatient. He thought living again and knowing more in advance would make everything easy. But reality proved otherwise. Though he’d returned to life, the obstacles remained. The future was still uncertain.
“You’re right. I rushed it. I’ll slow down.”
Xin An sent for a bowl of chilled tremella soup. “Patience is key to greatness. We’ve already made progress this past month. Things outside the household are far more complex than within—we can’t afford carelessness.”
She then told him what she had said to the Old Madam that day. “I cleared the path for you. No more sneaking around. Grandmother was very approving. I think she wants to see a grandson rise as your grandfather once did.”
“And it makes sense. Though my memory of Grandfather is vague, I still recall he was a man of imposing presence. A warrior who earned noble title through courage and fate—that’s no small feat. Seeing his descendants decline must weigh heavily. Grandmother, who knew him best, may have grown disillusioned over the years.”
“She’s waiting for you now. Go after you finish your soup.”
Tang Mo froze for a second. Then a wide smile spread across his face. Rising, he cupped his hands in a deep bow. “Thank you.”
This… this is what sets this life apart from the last. In this life, I—Tang Mo—have someone standing beside me.
He downed the tremella soup in a few spoonfuls, straightened his robe, and said, “I’ll go now.”
Xin An smiled. “Go on. Don’t rush back. Grandmother’s tanned a bit and feels self-conscious—flatter her a little, and stay for supper.”
Given her current disposition, she certainly wouldn’t want to eat with the whole family. Whether Tang Mo could coax her into it would depend on his skill.
By the time Tang Mo arrived at the Old Madam’s courtyard, Tang Gang was already there.
His mother had just returned from her little excursion, so of course he had to appear at once to pay respects and curry favor. He hoped to win her affection and perhaps be rewarded with something nice.
The Old Madam had just applied a face mask. Though her complexion had lightened slightly, her mood soured the moment she laid eyes on Tang Gang. She let loose a furious scolding.
“Shameless in your old age! Have you no sense?”
“Two daughters-in-law barely through the gates, and you’re already rushing to take a concubine—one who used to serve your wife, no less. Where’s your wife’s dignity?”
“How do you expect your daughters-in-law to respect you?”