By dusk, Xu Mama arrived at the Gu ancestral home in Daxing, carrying the funeral notice.
Upon seeing her, Second Madam Gu immediately went to report to the Matriarch.
Old Madam Gu was reclining on a luohan bed, sipping a bowl of duck soup with gastrodia root, assisted by a servant woman.
After hearing what Second Madam said, she sighed deeply. “Back then, Fourth had insisted on marrying that woman—even at the cost of breaking with the family. And now she’s already gone…”
She paused, then asked, “Who sent for you?”
In those days, the Ji family’s wealth and influence couldn’t compare to what it had become today. They were merchants, while the Gu family had been scholars for generations. Of course they hadn’t approved the match. Even now, though no one in Yanjing dared underestimate the Ji family, families like theirs still held them in contempt.
Second Madam replied respectfully, “It was Chao’er. She requested I go to oversee the funeral.”
Old Madam Gu frowned. “Why would she ask for you? Don’t they have that favored concubine, the daughter of the Assistant Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices?”
Second Madam thought for a moment. “If I had to guess, Madam Ji’s death is likely related to that concubine. She probably can’t take the lead now…”
The Matriarch fell silent, mulling this over. At last she said, “It wouldn’t be proper for me to go, but it’s good that you are. Speak with Fifth and his wife too—tell them they should go pay their respects. After all these years of estrangement, it’s time to put it to rest.”
Second Madam agreed and headed to the courtyard of Fifth Madam Gu.
When Fifth Madam heard the news, she pondered for a moment, then went to find her husband in the study.
Ye Xian was already there, watching Fifth Master Gu carve a walnut with his deft, slender knife. His carving was masterful—depicting Su Dongpo drifting on a boat, with the couplet “The mountains loom high, the moon seems small; the waters fall, and rocks emerge” etched so finely it could be read without effort. The blade he was using was one of his most treasured.
After observing in silence for a while, Ye Xian suddenly said, “Brother-in-law, that knife isn’t right.”
Fifth Master Gu looked up, raising a brow. “Is that so? And how should it be changed?”
Ye Xian held up two pale fingers, showing a slight curve. “The blade should have an arc like this. It gives more leverage. Actually, it’s better for killing. Sharpen the tip a little longer—it cuts clean through the bone, splits a man in half.”
Fifth Master Gu nearly dropped the walnut, hairs standing on end. “How do you know that?”
Ye Xian replied calmly, “The master who taught me had a fondness for weapons. He’s a qianhu now, stationed in Sichuan.”
Fifth Master Gu had long suspected Ye Xian’s subordinates were an unusual lot. One of them always carried a strange crossbow at his waist. Once, out of curiosity, he’d reached for it, only for the man to laugh gruffly and warn, “Best not, Fifth Master. You don’t know how to handle it—it’ll turn you into a sieve.”
At the time, Fifth Master Gu thought, If that thing’s so dangerous, why doesn’t it do that to you?
But later, he saw Ye Xian dismantling the contraption—it was packed with rows of four-inch steel needles, gleaming cold as ice. He’d used it to pierce straight through an elm tree as thick as a bowl. From that day forward, Fifth Master Gu never touched anything belonging to Ye Xian or his men again.
Ye Xian had a terrifying natural talent for such things. But then, he had a gift for nearly everything—so sharp it was frightening.
Fifth Master Gu was at a loss for words when his wife arrived, trailed by a maid. He quickly wiped the sweat from his brow and greeted her, saying, “Careful now.”
His eldest son, Gu Jinxian, was already fifteen. For years, Fifth Madam’s womb had remained still. Only two months ago had she finally been diagnosed with a pregnancy, sending the whole Gu household into delight. Despite its great size, the family’s line of heirs was thin—any new child was a cause for celebration.
Ye Xian, however, was unmoved. His sister was now over thirty and frail by nature. He believed it reckless to bear children at her age. His frown deepened as he glanced toward the unborn child in her womb—his disapproval obvious.
Fifth Madam didn’t mind. Ye Xian had always been like this. He hadn’t even liked her son Jinxian at first.
She ignored her brother, instead taking her husband’s hand and saying, “This evening, someone came from the Shian residence. Sister-in-law Ji has passed. Mother has asked that we all go pay respects. Aside from Second Brother, who is busy with official duties, everyone else must go. We’ll tell Jinxian as well. There should be a younger relative present to assist with the funeral rites.”
Fifth Master Gu’s expression darkened. “She’s been ill for half a year. Didn’t Second Sister-in-law just say she was stable? How could she pass so suddenly…”
Fifth Madam lowered her voice. “It appears she hanged herself. Everyone in the Gu family is shaken.”
As they spoke, Ye Xian cut in, “Gu Jinchao’s mother… is dead?”
Fifth Madam gave him a disapproving glare. “What do you mean Gu Jinchao? Mind your manners—she’s a young lady of good breeding. You should say your niece.”
Ye Xian snorted. “Why? She doesn’t even call me Uncle.”
Fifth Madam turned away, ignoring him. She returned to planning the journey with her husband—how many carriages would be needed, who would accompany them.
From the side, Ye Xian chimed in, “I’m going too. Save me a seat.”
Fifth Madam snapped, exasperated, “Why would you go!”
But Ye Xian didn’t explain. “Just make sure there’s room for me. I’ve got a few more calligraphy copies to finish. I’m heading back.”
His grandfather had been training his patience lately, making him write ten pages a day of seal script on jade-sheen xuan paper—requiring complete focus. One break and the ink would blur.
Fifth Madam nodded tersely. After finalizing the details with her husband and conferring with Second Madam, they made preparations to depart that very night for Shian.
Gu Jinrong knelt before Ji Shi’s spirit tablet, quietly burning joss paper. He had been crying silently for over an hour, his eyes swollen like walnuts. The mourning hall was so still that his suppressed sobs made his entire body tremble.
The fire in the brazier crackled softly. Ash from the burnt offerings floated gently through the air, the room heavy with the scent of sandalwood.
Jinchao, feeling weary, rose to take a walk outside.
Seeing her stand, Gu Jinrong immediately reached out to grab her hand. But her gaze was distant and cold, and he instinctively drew his hand back, instead clinging tightly to her sleeve. “Elder Sister…”
Jinchao stared at him without emotion. “Let go.”
At her sharp words, Gu Jinrong hastily let go. Jinchao turned and walked off. White paper lanterns swayed beneath the eaves. The night sky was pitch-black, and as she stood alone beneath the eaves of the covered walkway, she suddenly realized—she didn’t know where she wanted to go.
Gu Jinrong followed her out not long after. Jinchao had no desire to see him and turned toward the cloistered gallery, but he trailed behind like a shadow, persistent and silent, impossible to shake. At last, she stopped.
He hurried forward, eyes filled with sorrow and desperation.
“Elder Sister, I… I know you hate me. I hate myself too!” His voice cracked. “I hate how easily I trusted Gu Lan, how I brought this on Mother. I hate myself so much, I could strangle myself!”
Tears rolled down his cheeks again. “But… Elder Sister, now that Mother is gone, I only have you. Please… could you hate me a little less… I want to change—I swear I do…”
He wanted to make a promise, or say how deeply he now resented Gu Lan. But his words came out tangled, unable to express anything clearly. He felt completely alone—no Gu Lan, no Mother. His guilt was unbearable, and he wanted desperately to win back Jinchao’s trust, to somehow make amends for their mother’s death.
Jinchao looked at her younger brother and sighed. If only he had awakened sooner.
“I don’t hate you,” she said calmly. “I grieve your misfortune, and I resent your weakness. Rong-ge’er, if you truly understand me… then you already know what you need to do.”
She continued, “There’s no need to say anything to me. You know the truth in your own heart.”
Gu Jinrong froze. He stood there, unmoving. Jinchao, however, turned and continued walking down the corridor. When she reached the main gate of Xiexiao Courtyard, Qingpu was already waiting.
Qingpu quietly reported that the Gu family from Daxing had arrived in the night. Second Madam had come, as had Fifth Madam and Fifth Master Gu. With them were Gu Jinxian, Gu Jinshao, and the heir to the Marquis of Changxing.
Gu Deshao had already received them in the flower hall and expressed his thanks. Second Madam had begun arranging Ji Shi’s funeral: following the lesser laying out, there would be the greater encoffining and the burial. A Daoist priest had also been summoned from a nearby temple. The others had gone to the mourning hall to pay their respects.
After some thought, Jinchao went to the household affairs bureau to assist Second Madam.
By then, dawn had broken. Gu Deshao, exhausted and barely able to keep his eyes open, still refused to leave Xiexiao Courtyard. When he tried to stand, he nearly collapsed. Steward Li urged him to rest, but he refused.
Eventually, a maid was sent to fetch Jinchao, who was speaking with Second Madam.
Jinchao arrived with fury in her eyes and said bluntly to Steward Li, “If he refuses to rest, then knock him out and drag him back.”
Gu Deshao sat on a low stool, his face haggard and spiritless. “Chao’er… don’t worry about me…”
Jinchao gave a cold smile. “I’m not worried about you. You’re just trying to punish yourself out of guilt—thinking that by making yourself sick, you’ll atone for Mother’s death. But I see this as nothing but selfishness and irresponsibility. Who are you trying to make a show for? Me? Mother? Or the guests who’ve come to mourn?”
Her words left Gu Deshao speechless. After a long silence, he finally stood and returned to Juyliu Pavilion.
Jinchao let out a slow breath and went back to the household bureau to continue assisting Second Madam in funeral arrangements.
There was no suitable coffin available on short notice—only ready-made ones from the spirit goods shops, which were inevitably inferior in quality. Second Madam said, “Before I left, your grandmother instructed me that if no fitting coffin could be found, we could borrow hers.”
It seemed Grandmother had finally let go of her grudge against Ji Shi—after all, she was gone.
Thinking of this, Jinchao couldn’t help but sigh.
Second Madam observed Jinchao, who hadn’t slept for a day and a night, yet still showed no sign of fatigue. Aside from her reddened, swollen eyes from crying, she remained composed and unwavering. She handled the complex arrangements with ease and poise, as though she had done this many times before.
Second Madam also recalled the sight of Gu Jinrong weeping before the spirit tablet—and compared the two.
Between them, who was strong and who was weak… was all too clear.