The June weather had grown sweltering, but fortunately, a torrential downpour the previous night had knocked countless newly bloomed flowers from the branches. Stamens lay fallen on the ground, pink petals scattered everywhere, yet the post-rain air was clean and fragrant. Early in the morning, it lifted one’s spirits.
Qinsang raised both hands high, straining to roll the bamboo curtain higher, then turned back with a gentle smile. "Before the sun climbs too high, let’s air out the room properly, so it doesn’t stay stuffy and hot inside."
A young maid stood waiting, holding a damp little bamboo basket. On the table were assorted small fruit plates—white porcelain, famille-rose enamel, crystal, octagonal, and sunflower-petal shaped—a dazzling and exquisite array.
Xiaotao, sleeves gathered, arranged various fruits still glistening with droplets onto the plates. She looked up, grinning widely. "That rain last night was truly frightening—howling and lashing like whips and canes. Every time I heard the water hitting the ground, my heart trembled."
Ruomei, her lovely face bare of makeup, frowned slightly at this. "As scary as it was, it’s nothing compared to the master. I’ve... never seen him lose his temper so badly before. It was terrifying."
"Serves her right!" Lüzhi strode in from outside, set down the tea tray she was carrying, and hurried to the table for a drink of water.
Qinsang shot her a glance and chuckled. "Has the mistress finished her meal? Oh dear, no need to rush—drink slowly. Who’s competing with you?"
Lüzhi put down the cup, still unsatisfied, and poured a large bowl to drink down. "This morning, the mistress had those pepper-salt crispy fried quail eggs on the table—they smelled wonderful. She gave me some, and I couldn’t help eating a few too many. So salty! Tsk, tsk... I had to hold out until Sister Cuiwei and Danju returned before I dared slip away."
"You’re the one who deserves it," Xiaotao glared at her. "Sneaking treats all by yourself without sharing any with us."
Lüzhi set the tea bowl down, planted her hands on her hips, and glared back. "This morning, the mistress kept the eldest young lady for breakfast. I saw her eat quite a lot—even if I hadn’t eaten any, there wouldn’t have been any left for you all."
"Enough, enough," Ruomei waved a hand dismissively, then lowered her voice to ask, "But tell us, when you two went on the mistress’s orders to deliver food to the master last night, what actually happened over there? When I arrived, I only saw Wu’er being dragged away, all covered in blood—horrifying."
Lüzhi wiped her mouth with a handkerchief, glanced out the window and beyond the door, then moved further inside to sit down, feigning nonchalance. "Nothing too unusual. Last night, the one from Kouxiang Garden noticed the master went straight to his study without coming here and still hadn’t emerged late into the night, so she started stirring up trouble. She sent someone with a food hamper to ‘show concern’ for the master. Little Shunzi stopped Wu’er from entering, so she deliberately raised her voice in a sickly sweet tone, hoping the master inside would hear. But who would have thought..."
She covered her mouth with a laugh. "Who would have thought it only made the master furious? He ordered her dragged out on the spot and given thirty strokes. Hmph, serves her right!"
"So that’s what happened. She brought the calamity upon herself—no one else is to blame." A trace of contempt surfaced on Ruomei’s face as she said disdainfully, "Those two around Concubine Gong, just because they’re somewhat pretty, dress up all gaudy and flamboyant every day, hovering around here, peeking in and out, practically begging for the master to notice them. Truly lacking self-respect and dignity."Qinsang and Lüzhi exchanged a glance, secretly smiling: Though this person was somewhat arrogant and narcissistic, often speaking with a sour tone that annoyed others, she was still pure-hearted. Whenever Gu Tingye was present, she would either hide in the back room or stay elsewhere temporarily, avoiding any appearance before the master.
"The master’s temper has always been bad, only restraining himself somewhat in the presence of the mistress. Last night, he threw a cup of hot tea, splashing hot water and broken porcelain everywhere. Little Shun and the guards in the outer courtyard didn’t dare move a muscle," Xiaotao remarked casually.
After placing the last fruit platter, she took some freshly washed emerald-green leaves from the side, carefully broke off a few small sprigs, and slowly arranged them as decorations on the fresh, tender fruits. As she worked, she added, "Otherwise, why do you think Lingding Pavilion has been so quiet lately? I heard that she originally brought four maids with her, but for some reason, one was beaten to death on the spot, another was half-beaten to death and didn’t survive more than a few days. Miss Fengxian was so frightened she fell ill and didn’t leave her bed for months... Alright, Chunya, take these away and bring in the hanging baskets drying outside."
She clapped her hands, straightened up, gathered the leftover fruit scraps and leaves, and handed them to the little maid. The girl, no more than ten years old with a round face, obediently went out.
The speaker remained unaware, but the listeners trembled inwardly. The maids in the room were momentarily horrified, falling silent for a long while. After a pause, Lüzhi exclaimed, "Why didn’t you say so earlier! Last night, when the master was late returning, that wretched Caihuan kept fretting, saying she wanted to 'check on the master for the mistress.'"
Xiaotao looked blank. "...You didn’t ask me?" Though she loved gathering information, she never gossiped recklessly—Minglan was her only confidante.
To be a qualified informant, one needed not only a simple and honest appearance but also constant discretion. This way, anyone who accidentally leaked gossip to her could rest assured it would never spread.
Just as they were speaking, Chunya returned, carrying two exquisitely woven purple bamboo hanging baskets with black gauze covers on her small arms. Xiaotao lifted the layered covers and carefully placed the arranged fruit platters inside.
"...If I’d known earlier, I would’ve let her go. I exhausted myself stopping her," Lüzhi grumbled resentfully.
Qinsang couldn’t help but say, "Don’t cause trouble. Always scheming—if you stir up something, be careful Sister Cuiwei slapping your hands again!"
Lüzhi, recalling past incidents, stuck out her tongue and fell silent.
Ruomei sighed deeply. "It’s better not to scheme. The master comes from a military background—unlike scholars, he isn’t one to be tender or protective toward women. Thankfully, the mistress has his favor, or else..." Her expression grew melancholy, resting her chin on her hand like the sorrowful beauty Xishi by the washing stream.
Lüzhi and Qinsang exchanged another glance, pursing their lips.
Little Chunya, hearing this, looked up innocently and said, "The master’s temper has improved a lot. I heard before the mistress entered the household, an older sister from the inner courtyard accidentally wandered into the outer study. The master didn’t say a word—he immediately had her taken away."
The others listened intently and hurriedly asked, "What happened after that?"
"After that... after that, there was nothing," Chunya replied, covering the hanging baskets, utterly clueless.
The group grew furious. "How could there be nothing? What happened to that person afterward?"
Who shares gossip like that, leaving an unresolved cliffhanger? Lüzhi’s finger nearly poked Chunya’s forehead as the latter covered her head and wailed, "I don’t know! That older sister never appeared again after that."The girls exchanged bewildered glances, sensing an ominous unknown in those words that frightened them more than beatings or being sold off. The room fell into a heavy silence until, after a long pause, Lüzhi suddenly remembered something and glared at Chunya. "How do you know about this?"
Chunya, with an innocent expression, replied smoothly, "I heard it from Little Shunzi, who heard it from Young Master Gongsun, who heard it from Guard Xie, who heard it from Master Tu the Second."
Lüzhi felt utterly confused, Ruomei gaped in disbelief, and Qinsang pointed at Xiaotao and Chunya, torn between laughter and exasperation. "Truly, one takes on the color of their company! Spending every day with her, you’ve picked up her bad habits. Quick, leave that silly girl and come follow me instead."
Little Chunya immediately clung to Xiaotao’s arm, sweetly saying, "Thank you, Sister Qinsang, but I can’t bear to leave Sister Xiaotao. She treats me so well, saving delicious food and nice clothes to send to my mother and younger sister."
Xiaotao chuckled and pulled Chunya closer. "Child, why must you be so blunt? Even if I am good, you shouldn’t say it so openly. One must learn to be humble."
The girls swayed slightly, nearly collapsing in amusement.
While the young maids, ignorant and carefree, laughed heartily, Minglan was not so fortunate. At that moment, she was suffering from a splitting headache.
Since returning from the Marquis’s residence the previous day, Gu Tingye had locked himself in his study without a word, not even returning for dinner. Only once had he summoned Gongsun Baishi for a lengthy discussion.
Apart from sending meals and tea and offering some concern, Minglan had not gone to see him.
As a resolute and mature man, Gu Tingye was likely pondering serious matters rather than wallowing in sentiment. He needed calm reflection, not a nursemaid’s comfort.
His choice of the outer study over the inner one subtly conveyed his intentions.
Minglan waited quietly in her room, sitting by the candle until midnight before exhaustion finally overcame her and she fell asleep.
Unexpectedly, she woke in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat. As her eyes opened to the pitch-black room, she saw a tall, shadowy figure seated by the window, his gleaming eyes fixed intently on her with a profound and chilling gaze.
Minglan was half-startled awake.
The man did nothing but stare at her face. Outside, the rain intensified, pounding violently against the ground, each drop seeming to strike her heart. Minglan grew increasingly uneasy and instinctively curled into herself.
Realizing he had disturbed her, he gathered her into his arms, limbs and all. Unsure how to soothe her, he rocked her gently, much like a nursemaid lulling a child to sleep. His technique was far from professional, but it worked. Minglan mumbled a couple of questions, but he didn’t answer, only rocking her more vigorously. Overwhelmed by drowsiness, she drifted back to sleep.
That night, her sleep was fitful, filled with restless unease. A morning headache was inevitable. When she awoke, the pillow beside her was empty. On the low couch by the bed lay the clothes he had worn the previous day—a double-woven silk robe embroidered with subtle patterns of ancient pines and steadfast rocks in Suzhou stitch, the shimmering threads faintly glimmering. He had carelessly tossed them aside.
No son of the Sheng family would dare behave so recklessly. Sheng Hong was determined to establish their legacy through scholarship and self-cultivation, insisting that even when exhausted, one must not leave belongings in disarray. With Changbai as the paragon of discipline, the effect was all the more pronounced.
But this man was born with the temperament of a young master. In his youth, he had enjoyed luxury and arrogance, and during his wanderings, there was no one to rein him in. After joining the military, he had attendants to cater to his every need from head to toe.Minglan secretly resolved that she would never let her children learn from their father’s ways. Suddenly realizing her own thoughts, she couldn’t help but chuckle wryly.
While dressing before the mirror, Minglan instructed Cuiwei to deliver three Buddhist scriptures to Gong Hongxiao. She was told not to come to pay respects in the next few days and to stay quietly in her room, copying each scripture a hundred times as a punishment for "lax discipline."
“Is the master’s outer study a place to be visited so casually?” Cuiwei’s face was stern as she delivered the reprimand. “There are many important items inside. Even beating that maid to death on the spot would not be excessive! The Concubine ought to exercise better control.”
This was Lesson Three of the principal wife’s training course: ‘How to Maintain Strict Authority in Front of Concubines and Servants.’ Old Mrs. Sheng had advised: Never show your emotions in front of them. When praising, be concise; when reprimanding, avoid doing it personally whenever possible. Let respectable matrons or senior servants deliver the scolding. You need only sit upright above, dispensing rewards and punishments impartially.
—Minglan summarized it succinctly and studiously took notes.
When Qiu Niang brought Rong Jie’er to pay respects, Minglan noticed her looking somewhat nervous and rewarded her with two strings of newly acquired red musk beads and a fine palace fan, a recent imperial gift. Even ordinary items from the imperial workshops were exceptionally exquisite and precious. Qiu Niang’s face immediately brightened into a smile, and she bowed repeatedly in gratitude.
Rong Jie’er, still young, paid little attention to such trinkets. However, when Danju led two maids into the side room to set out breakfast and the aroma wafted over, the girl tilted her head and glanced a few extra times. Minglan casually invited her to stay for the meal, never expecting her to softly agree. Qiu Niang had no choice but to return alone.
Not only that, the little girl displayed an astonishing appetite, devouring two bowls of mung bean and silver ear porridge, half a plate of crispy salted quail eggs, and a large piece of golden thread jujube paste cake. Minglan, holding her rice bowl, watched in slight astonishment.
A young lady of good family shouldn’t eat so voraciously, but seeing how bony she still was, with little flesh on her frame, Minglan decided to let it pass for now. She recalled how much effort Old Mrs. Sheng had once expended to fatten her up until she was plump, round, and rosy-cheeked. Back then, the dignified and refined Old Madam must have exercised great patience watching her own eating habits.
After the meal was cleared, Minglan felt Rong Jie’er had indeed overeaten. She tested her on a few characters, briefly demonstrated the proper way to hold a brush, and then instructed Xiaotao to take her for a stroll in the garden before sending her back.
Watching Rong Jie’er’s retreating figure, Minglan’s gaze turned thoughtful—should she move Gong Hongxiao out of Kouxiang Court?
Having slept poorly all night and now burdened with such considerations, a faint headache began to creep in.
Minglan reclined on the Xiangfei daybed spread with a cool bamboo mat, reading by the window’s light in an attempt to catch up on sleep. Suddenly, her eyes swept over the sewing basket nearby. She sighed, picking out an unfinished infant’s belly band that still needed hemming. Though she felt terribly lazy, knowing Rulan was pregnant, she had to at least make a token effort. The problem was, Rulan was all too familiar with her embroidery skills, making it difficult to hire someone to cheat on her behalf.
Having been away from needlework for too long, her fingers felt clumsy. It took nearly an hour just to outline a cluster of jointed emerald bamboo. Yawning, she rummaged through the thread basket for shades of emerald, lake green, and dark green silk threads.
Just then, a shadow flickered by the window, and Gu Tingye pushed aside the curtain himself, striding boldly into the room.
Startled, Minglan thought she had overslept and hurriedly checked the water clock—it was only just past the first hour of si."Why are you back so early today?" Minglan smiled and made to rise.
Gu Tingye quickly stepped forward, pressing her back onto the daybed. "You didn't sleep well last night. Don't bother with needlework—you should rest." He then sat beside her on the daybed and added, "I came back to change clothes and will head to the training ground later."
Minglan was about to call Xia Zhu in to help him change when he stopped her again. "No hurry. Sit with me awhile."
Minglan had no choice but to remain seated. Turning her head, she noticed the sun climbing higher outside. Bright, fierce rays streamed through the newly pasted pale pink gauze window, spilling over the magnificent crimson court dress and softly falling upon his face and form. His handsome, distinct features were shadowed by a layer of gloom.
Just as she hesitated over how to broach the subject, he spoke first. "Right after morning court ended today, I went to see the Emperor."
"...Oh," Minglan replied.
"I pleaded for mercy on their behalf, saying that although they deserve punishment, I begged His Majesty to show leniency."
Minglan bowed her head, silently asking herself why she wasn’t the least bit surprised.
The room was quiet, and the adjacent chambers were equally still. Whenever the couple was together, the maids would tactfully slip away, leaving only a few in the side rooms or water chamber to attend to any needs.
"...It’s not that I’ve softened. Nor was I swayed by his silver tongue—they absolutely don’t deserve pity! But, but..." Gu Tingye grew increasingly agitated. He stood up abruptly, his tall, sturdy frame pacing the room like a caged beast, his entire being radiating a fierce, brutal intensity desperate for release.
Minglan rubbed her temples; her headache was worsening.
"But, but..." By nature resolute and decisive, he now seemed filled with indignation he couldn’t articulate. He could only slam a heavy fist onto the mirror-smooth sandalwood table, making the pale blue porcelain teacup with pink petals jump.
"I wish I could make them taste the bitterness of displacement and the agony of wrongful accusation!" His burning eyes held clenched-teeth hatred. After a long moment, the heaving of his chest gradually subsided.
"...It’s just that doing this," he slumped down beside Minglan, "will be better... for the future."
Minglan began to understand his anger.
In his heart, he truly wanted to leave them to their fate, but after pondering deeply last night, he weighed the pros and cons and ultimately restrained his temper. Thus, he felt intensely wronged, resenting heaven’s unfairness for bundling what he wanted with what he didn’t.
He hadn’t returned to change clothes but because he was so pent up and needed a place to vent.
In truth, Minglan had also been reflecting for days. Back then, the fourth and fifth branches targeted Gu Tingye for three main reasons: first, they looked down on the son of a salt merchant, feeling he tarnished their noble family’s prestige; second, keeping around someone qualified to mock them made using the Bai family’s money uneasy; third, with their own sons underachieving, they feared losing face before the Old Marquis and needed a scapegoat—and who better than Gu Tingye?
Put together, they grew increasingly contemptuous and hostile toward him.
However, despicable as these scoundrels were, there was no fundamental, deep-seated conflict. The truly bloody struggles occurred within the main branch itself.
"My fourth sister... you know of her," Minglan said after a long silence, suddenly. "The one who married into the Yongchang Marquis household."
Gu Tingye looked slightly surprised, then nodded."We've never gotten along since childhood." Minglan reached out to take his large hand, finding it icy cold to the touch. She spoke slowly, "She dislikes me because I stole her favored position before Grandmother, overshadowed her in our tutor's eyes, and took away Father's care that should have gone to his daughter. As for me, I don't like her either... she has an unkind heart."
Gu Tingye turned his face sideways. Though he didn't understand why Minglan was saying these things, he listened quietly.
"Once, I spent half a month making new shoes for Father's birthday. She deliberately cut them up under the pretext of examining the embroidery pattern. I had to work through the night and stay up several nights to remake them."
Minglan narrated calmly, lowering her head as she gently massaged Gu Tingye's large hand. "Since we were young, she has schemed against me countless times. Speaking ill of me before Father, sowing discord with the Madame - I often had to expend double the effort to repair the damage..."
To guard against Molan, she never dared to send food to her father or brothers. Every time, she had to be extremely careful.
"Why didn't you fight back fiercely?"
Gu Tingye's face darkened as he grasped Minglan's small hand in return. Her palm was warm and smooth, making his heart ache slightly. He thought of how her birth mother had died early, and though she had her grandmother's protection, she ultimately had no one to speak for her before her birth father. Above her was a temperamental legal mother and legal sister, below were scheming concubines and half-sisters. He didn't know how she had managed all these years.
"At first, I wasn't capable enough and couldn't think of good methods." Minglan lifted her neck, recalling with a bitter smile - this was the truth. "Later, when I grew older, I secretly bullied her a few times to vent my anger. Unfortunately, I lost more often than I won."
A faint smile appeared on Gu Tingye's stern lips. He tapped her delicate nose and lightly scolded, "You useless thing." In his view, quarrels between young girls were ultimately just child's play.
"Once, she nearly slashed my face with broken porcelain. That time, I was so furious that I thought, when she meets misfortune in the future, I would definitely add to her troubles." Minglan lightly bit her red lips, smiling with slight mischief.
Gu Tingye's expression changed abruptly, but before he could speak, Minglan returned to calm: "But now, I don't think that way anymore."
She paused and said lightly, "As long as I live better than her, every time she sees me, she'll be terribly upset and won't be able to sleep all night."
Based on her understanding of Molan, watching herself live splendidly and seeing Rulan's happiness would be more painful than killing her. The venomous fangs of jealousy and regret would gnaw at her heart every night, tormenting her until she tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Gu Tingye slightly narrowed his eyes. Being intelligent, he understood Minglan's meaning perfectly.
The fourth and fifth branches had long been under the Old Marquis's protection and had forgotten how to deal with storms outside. Their descendants showed no particular promise either. Gu Tingwei from the main branch had been studying until now but remained merely a stipend student.
Compared with Gu Tingye's current influence, the foreseeable future would definitely see one rising as the other declined.
"Don't be angry, and don't hold back. We will definitely live better than them." Minglan looked seriously at Gu Tingye, her tone soft yet firm. "Just letting them watch us live well is revenge enough for any grievance.""Do you truly believe I did the right thing?" Gu Tingye murmured, his expression distant, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he gazed intently at Minglan, seemingly craving reassurance. "To abandon my deceased mother's grievance and think only of myself...?"
"You did the right thing. Moreover, Mother-in-law's grievances will not be forgotten just like that." Minglan nodded with unusual determination. "You can petition for her posthumous honors, build a shrine for her, invite respected elders to reestablish her lineage records, and let future generations of the Gu family know of Madam Bai's contributions to the Gu clan. Remember, from now on, you have the final say in the Gu family's affairs."
History is written by the victors, and countless stories of the defeated are buried in forgotten past.
In the future, Gu Tingye could glorify and praise Baishi however he wished. To put it bluntly, those scoundrels would inevitably need to seek favors from Gu Tingye someday. When that time came, he might as well have them gather to kneel and confess before Baishi's spirit tablet.
"Well said."
Gu Tingye's eyes brightened. He lowered his head in thought for a moment, the confusion on his face gradually fading away. A confident smile slowly spread across his lips as he spoke calmly, "I shall act according to what should be done. There's no need to take detours for those unworthy people."
Minglan knew he had come to a resolution. She repeatedly applauded, expressing her enthusiastic appreciation for his wise decision.
His handsome eyes sparkled like stars, with clear brows and fine features. He gazed quietly at Minglan, gently stroking her soft, delicate cheek.
Minglan immediately blushed, unable to resist glancing toward the window.
Unaware of her reaction, he turned his handsome profile, his smile as elegant as a painting. He whispered softly, "You're truly wonderful."
Minglan's blush deepened.
Suddenly, with a sweep of his long sleeve, before Minglan realized what was happening, she was enveloped tightly in his embrace. The familiar masculine scent filled her nostrils, mingled with a faint hint of aloeswood. The brown-gold threaded cuffs, like vine tendrils, clung to the cicada-wing thin gauze.
His deep, drum-like voice sounded in her ear as he whispered, "I want you - within this residence, beyond your chambers - to have everything I possess, all that I can provide. Every matter shall be according to your wishes, pleasing to your heart."
Completely covered by the wide sleeves of his court dress, Minglan couldn't see anything. She silently repeated to herself eighteen times 'never trust a man's sweet words,' yet couldn't suppress the wild pounding in her chest.
...
After he changed clothes and left, Minglan remained lying on the soft couch. A pot of lush, tender clivia seedlings sat on the windowsill, and she gazed at them absently.
He was so intelligent and perceptive, with such rich experience - what reasoning couldn't he understand? What complex interests couldn't he unravel? Yet, no matter how sound the reasoning, it must first pass through the barrier of the heart.
Gu Tingyu ultimately had some capability after all.
Lost in thought, she slowly drew a letter from her sleeve - one that had fallen from his clothing this morning.
"...The father's fault for failing to teach his son... Innately straightforward and sincere, today's stubbornness is entirely my fault... Not knowing where you are, missing you deeply... Humbly beg elder brother to look after him, not letting this child suffer from cold or danger... Bowing in gratitude, earnestly pleading..."
The paper was slightly yellowed, extremely fragile, as if having been repeatedly crumpled then smoothed out again. In several places, circular water stains marked the ink characters, drop by drop, blurring the aged, trembling handwriting.
Suddenly, her heart ached faintly, a dull pain.
Actually, he was very, very good.
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[Author's Note]
Answering questions:
Yes. Perhaps everyone doesn't want to hear this. I originally thought everyone would understand.My eldest cousin is a military enthusiast. When writing about Gu Tingye rising to prominence during the turmoil and establishing his achievements, I specifically asked my cousin this question: Can someone who has only been a junior officer in the army for a few years suddenly achieve great feats while commanding a largely unfamiliar army?
My cousin said that if this person has background and talent, then it's possible.
Have you all watched the American TV series "Band of Brothers"?
The original commander of Easy Company was Captain Sobel, who trained Easy Company from scratch. However, due to his extremely poor on-site command abilities, the soldiers of Easy Company would rather violate military law than collectively demand his removal and request the capable Winters to lead them.
Back then, my cousin carefully explained the reason for this to me.
Soldiers seek two things: first, to survive, and second, to get promoted and make a fortune.
Especially in ancient times, if a leader was parachuted into other positions, people might just accept it. However, the position of a military commander, particularly one who was about to lead troops into battle immediately, was entirely different.
When the new emperor wanted to seize military power, he had no trusted followers in the army (having just arrived from the border regions). As turmoil was about to erupt, he appointed several commanders at once.
Why would those officers obey someone they had never met before?
Who knew if this person would lead them to their deaths?
In such circumstances, Gu Tingye had an inherent advantage. He came from a family of military leaders, with generations above him having commanded troops. Moreover, his father had served in the army for quite some time and had achieved significant merits. Even if Gu Tingye didn't encounter old acquaintances to look after him, there were people who had heard of the Gu family.
If you were a soldier or an officer and had to choose between an unfamiliar parachuted superior and Gu Tingye, whom would you trust more?
In leading troops into battle, there is no room for error in timing or opportunity. Because Gu Tingye had organized the army early and could command it as he wished, he was able to achieve later accomplishments.
So I say that the Gu family accounted for about five to ten percent of Gu Tingye's success.
It's like when we go for job interviews. If two candidates have similar abilities, but one of them is the old friend of the interviewer's father, who do you think he would choose? Needless to say, right?
Of course, Gu Tingye's own talent was also crucial. Relying solely on family influence wouldn't have worked. But who painstakingly taught him his martial skills, military strategy, and troop formations?
Coupled with the ethical principles of father-son and ruler-subject relationships in ancient times, conflicts between father and son rarely lasted overnight. This is the reasoning behind it.
...
For a period of time, whenever I read romance novels, I would often come across this type of female character: beautiful, delicate, melancholic, capable of evoking the utmost affection and protection from men.
They are not parasitic vines—they are genuinely fragile and truly incapable.
They require extensive care and immense consideration to survive; the slightest neglect or mistreatment would cause them to grieve to death. Qiong Yao's Yin Caiqin somewhat embodies this idea.
All I can say is that men who fall in love with such women are utterly unfortunate.
...
The Gu family was already doing quite well, if not for that unforeseen catastrophe.
For such prominent families to incur such massive deficits, it usually wasn't due to excessive extravagance but rather because of "hosting the emperor."For example, the Cao family's deficit was largely due to hosting Emperor Kangxi too frequently, while Jia Bao Yu's family incurred debts from receiving Yuan Chun.
Originally, the accounts were nearly balanced, with only minor deficits if any. But these events plunged them into substantial debt.
For various reasons, ancient imperial clans and noble families often owed money to the state treasury. Typically, unless urgently needed, they weren't forced to repay immediately under life-threatening pressure—they could gradually settle debts (sometimes by being assigned lucrative positions).
Thus, the Gu family was originally quite prosperous but suffered two strokes of misfortune.
As for the fourth and fifth branches, they initially had no intention of killing Gu Tingye (as there were no major benefits), but merely looked down on him and wanted him to take the blame. However, through repeated arguments and confrontations, resentment deepened over time.
...
Recently, many have expressed outrage toward Old Marquis, but I must emphasize that ancient and modern parental concepts are vastly different.
In modern times: If you give birth to me, you have an obligation to raise me. Failure to do so constitutes abandonment.
In ancient times: Giving birth and raising me was considered an immense grace, permitting parents to sell, punish, or even beat their children (as selling children or fathers killing sons occurred historically).
Modern perspective: If parents treat me poorly, I can hold grudges, sever family ties, or simply provide minimal financial support.
Ancient perspective: "There are no wrong parents under heaven." If a son displeased his father, the father could accuse him of disobedience—a charge that would severely hinder the son's official career.
Ultimately, Old Marquis genuinely loved Da Qin Shi, deeply and passionately. Human hearts are inherently biased, so his guilt prioritized Da Qin Shi and her son, followed by Baishi and her son.
It's that straightforward.
Moreover, Gu Tingyu's status as the legitimate son inherently surpassed Gu Tingye's as the legitimate son.
Combining reason and emotion, it would be strange if Old Marquis favored the second son over the eldest.
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