No wonder Empress Guo was so concerned for Du Jingyi’s unborn child — the Gu family had long since lost all its male heirs. Though Shang Ji’s surname was Shang, he had been raised within the Gu household since childhood.
If Du Jingyi were to give birth to a son, the Empress would most likely hope for the child to bear the Gu surname, to continue the Gu family line and preserve its legacy.
Du Jingyi, however, did not concern herself much with such matters. Whether Shang or Gu, the child was hers all the same. What troubled her was the storm such news might stir once it reached outside ears.
The first to protest would no doubt be those who coveted the Gu family’s former influence.
Her hand rested unconsciously upon her still-flat belly, a faint sigh escaping her lips. This child, she thought, before even drawing its first breath, has already been forced into a world of blades and shadows — a pawn of bloodlines and power.
But then again, he was destined for it — a child born of both the Shang and Gu families.
The carriage rattled softly over the frost-laden road, its wheels crunching against the snow. Before long, they arrived at the General’s Mansion — the imperial residence bestowed upon Shang Ji for his military merit.
Du Jingyi had long planned to burn down the East Garden back at the Duke’s Mansion. Preparations had begun in late autumn. The talk of applying fireproof lacquer was merely a convenient excuse; she had known full well that the winter stores of charcoal and firewood were kept in the side hall near the East Garden. With only a few small “adjustments,” she could ensure that one spark would be enough to consume the entire courtyard.
By then, she had already removed all valuables and necessities from the premises. Everyone in her household was prepared — they left behind no attachment, no trace of hesitation.
Now, at the gates of the General’s Mansion, the carriage rolled to a halt. From the main entrance came Butler He and Mama Dou, both dressed neatly in winter robes [formal household attire for senior retainers in nobel households], stepping forward to greet them.
“Young Madam, welcome home,” Butler He said with a deep bow.
The words made Madam Xing smile faintly. Standing before the tall vermilion gates of the mansion [imperially granted residence of a decorated general], she was reminded of her youth — of the days when she had lived under her great-uncle’s roof in Jinling.
Moments later, the eldest sister-in-law Liu and the eighth sister Xueniang descended from the following carriage. The eldest sister-in-law stepped forward and said cheerfully, “Didn’t Aunt say before that she’d move in and spend the Laba Festival with us? It seems you’ve come a few days early. Cousin Zhao and Ping’er have gone south to fetch Grandmother and the other aunts for the reunion — why not stay with us in the meantime?”
Her words struck precisely at Madam Xing’s heart. She let out a delighted laugh. “I’ve already packed my trunks,” she said with amusement. “I was merely waiting for you to say that!”
At her words, laughter spread among them all, light and easy as the winter wind.
Outside, snowflakes drifted down in thick clusters, veiling the courtyard roofs in pristine white.
Three days passed quietly. Before Madam Wei could so much as make a move, an imperial decree arrived from the palace.
In recognition of General Shang Ji’s distinguished service, His Majesty had conferred upon his wife, Du Jingyi, the title of First Rank Consort [yipin furen – the highest rank granted to a general’s wife]. Her eldest sister-in-law Liu, for her steadfast management of the household and past contributions as the wife of a fallen officer, was granted the title of Second Rank Consort [erpin furen – a noble title of honor for meritorious women].
To receive such a decree just after moving into a new residence was considered an auspicious omen. News spread swiftly — the General’s Mansion was basking in imperial favor. For those who once sought to stir trouble, any such attempt now would mean going against the will of the palace itself.
In the main hall, Shang Ji, Du Jingyi, Madam Liu, and the household kneeling behind them awaited the reading of the edict.
“Long live His Majesty, long live His Majesty!” the attendants chanted in unison.
Eunuch Liu — the same one who had previously come bearing orders from the palace — stepped forward. Holding the golden scroll aloft, he read aloud the Emperor’s words in a clear, ceremonious tone, then presented the decree to Du Jingyi and Madam Liu with both hands.
“Congratulations, Young Madam. Congratulations, Eldest Madam,” he said, bowing with a smile.
Du Jingyi accepted the scroll gracefully. She had already heard hints of this from Empress Guo earlier and thus was not overly surprised. Composed and dignified, she offered a slight smile. “Thank you, Eunuch Liu. Her Majesty’s grace is boundless.”
Eunuch Liu regarded her with quiet admiration. The last time he had seen her, her complexion had been pale and drawn. Now she seemed radiant — her features softened by vitality. It is said that joy nourishes a woman’s spirit, he thought, and it seems to be true.
Beside her, Madam Liu clutched her own decree tightly, tears of emotion glistening in her eyes. All her long-endured grievances — the years of quiet endurance and humiliation — seemed to dissolve into nothing at that moment.
“Sister-in-law,” Shang Ji reminded gently, “you should thank the Empress for this favor.”
His words brought Madam Liu back to her senses. She quickly knelt again, her voice trembling slightly. “This humble servant thanks His Majesty for his grace, and also expresses gratitude to Her Majesty, the Empress.”
In her heart, she knew well that had Madam Xing not taken them to the palace that day, she would never have been included in such an honor. After all, Du Jingyi’s title came as her husband’s rightful reward for military merit — but Madam Liu?
Her late husband had never distinguished himself before the Emperor. Clearly, this recognition had come through Empress Guo’s intervention. Gratitude welled in her chest. She turned to look at Madam Xing and Du Jingyi, her expression filled with warmth and sincerity.
If they hadn’t persuaded me to enter the palace that day, she thought, this blessing would never have come for her .
Now, with this title, she would no longer have to stand in the shadows at the Duke’s upcoming birthday banquet. She didn’t care much about rank or status before , but when she thought of her son, Ping’er — still young, his future uncertain. With her new title, his prospects for a good marriage would greatly improve resulting in more opportunites.
For the first time in years, she felt she had something to look forward to.
When the reading of the decree was over, Eunuch Liu bowed once more. “It grows late, and I must return to the palace to report,” he said with polite cheer. “I shall not intrude further. Another day, I will call upon the General for a cup of wine to celebrate your new home.”
Shang Ji smiled courteously. “Eunuch Liu, you are too kind. It is I who should offer thanks. We have only just moved in and preparations are still incomplete, but I insist you honor us by attending our housewarming banquet.”
“Then it shall be as you say,” Eunuch Liu replied with a laugh.
Shang Ji gestured. “Please allow me to see you out.”
“Please,” said the eunuch, returning the courtesy.
“Farewell, Eunuch Liu,” everyone chorused respectfully as he departed. None dared to be casual — for he represented the Emperor himself.
Outside, as the eunuch’s entourage departed, Mama Dou and Mama Cai approached, their faces alight with excitement.
“Congratulations, Madam! Congratulations! Our mansion now boasts two newly titled ladies — this is truly a blessing upon blessings!” Mama Cai exclaimed, her tone now overflowing with joy.
Mama Dou nodded quickly, adding with a grin, “Indeed, it’s a triple celebration. Let’s not forget, our Madam is with child. Before long, there will be another cause for festivity in the mansion!”
With such strong backing from the palace, there was no longer any need to keep the pregnancy secret. Madam Wei, no matter how long her reach, could no longer interfere with the General’s Mansion.
Smiles and laughter now filled the hall. Xueniang sighed softly, “If only this decree had arrived a day earlier — Cousin Zhao and Ping’er could have shared the joy with us before they left.”
Madam Liu chuckled. “Yes, and Grandmother would have been overjoyed to hear it, too.”
Her tone was lighter now, the usual tension in it was gone. Xueniang even dared to tease a little, and no one scolded her.
Madam Xing, watching them, felt a quiet relief. “It’s easily remedied,” she said with a smile. “Send someone to deliver a letter. They left only yesterday — they can’t have gone far.”
Xueniang’s eyes brightened. “That’s a fine idea.”
And for the first time in many months, the household of the General’s Mansion rang with laughter — warm and alive beneath the drifting snow.