Chapter 77: My Son Bears the Bearing of a Great Emperor, Part 3

The steward was not one of the old matron’s people; he was hired from outside and rarely involved himself in the women’s quarrels within the courtyard. Now, hearing Qin Ye’s command, the steward immediately raised his hand, signaling for those wailing servants to be dragged away.

These were the very people who had been withholding Cui-shi’s food, along with a few others who, emboldened by the old matron’s support, treated Cui-shi, Qin Teng, and Qin Man with utter disregard as their masters. Some even tried to reclaim a sense of superiority over their former mistress, acting like insolent servants. All of them enjoyed the backing of the old matron. Indeed, it was quite possible that she herself had instructed them to mistreat Cui-shi. Of course, she would never admit this openly. For her to abuse her own daughter-in-law was one thing, but if word got out, she’d have nowhere to hide her shame.

Qin Ye showed her no deference, and with the steward siding with him, the old matron was so furious that she rolled her eyes and collapsed backward in a faint.

Concubine Xing shrieked, “Madam! Madam has fainted! Master, come quickly—Madam—!”

“If she’s fainted, call a physician. Why are you calling for me? I’m the master of the house, not a doctor.”

Concubine Xing was dumbfounded. That’s your own mother!

Liu Yu was present as well. She didn’t panic; she simply had the old matron supported onto a soft couch, then calmly instructed people to fetch the physician and see to other matters.

Seeing how capable Liu Yu was, Qin Ye promptly handed all miscellaneous affairs over to her. “Previously, my mother managed the household expenses and ended up breeding these unruly servants. They even dared to skimp on my own son’s needs. Where on earth did they find the courage? Upon reflection, I can only assume my old mother is getting senile and muddle-headed. You, however, handle matters with order and clarity. From now on, these tasks shall be yours. I’ll come check your work in a few days.”

Stroking his beard and thoroughly pleased with his own decision, Qin Ye then left, hands clasped behind his back, feigning solicitude for Cui-shi as he led her away.

Concubine Xing was terribly anxious. She and Liu Yu’s greatest reliance in the household was the old matron. Now that the old woman was down, were they doomed to follow?

Liu Yu, exasperated by Xing’s panic, snapped, “She fainted, not died. My aunt worked the fields as a child, then lucked into marrying into the Qin family as a second wife, and even luckier, gave birth to a son and secured her position. But when the old master died, she squandered the family fortune, the Qin household declined, and she was knocked back to her original state. See how she’s always complaining of this ache and that pain? Those are just excuses. She’s only looking for an opportunity to torment Cui-shi. Do you really think her health is so poor that one faint and she won’t get up again?”

Concubine Xing blurted an ‘ah’ and, as she recovered, realized that Qin Ye had just handed over the household accounts to Liu Yu—the same accounts the old matron had once wrested from Cui-shi. If the old matron was unharmed, wouldn’t she challenge Liu Yu when she woke?

“In the Qin household, the master has the final say.” Liu Yu remarked, though there was a touch of mockery in her tone.

Concubine Xing didn’t catch the nuance, but that didn’t matter. She thought Liu Yu was capable; if she couldn’t understand, she would simply listen to Liu Yu.

“By the way, Cui-shi seems to have won back the master’s favor. Shouldn’t we take precautions?”

“No rush, let’s wait and see.”

Liu Yu didn’t even have to wait a few days for news. That very day, she learned the result: Qin Ye had been bodily dragged away from Cui-shi’s side by his two sons, each clinging to one leg.

Qin Teng, mature beyond his years and itching to draw a blade against his own blood father.

And Qin Man, sweet and lovely, his smile melting hearts, though his mind was busy plotting countless ways to destroy Qin Ye without arousing anyone’s suspicion.

Both boys pinched their noses, thinking their younger selves had been too naïve—never knowing how to endure, always resenting their father for his injustice and neglect. But now, they were patient: despite their pent-up grievances, they could endure it, feigning closeness with the old man.

The old man was certainly basking in the delight of his sons’ affection. As his only sons, he’d probably never experienced such enthusiastic displays of filial piety.

What a windfall for him.

Qin Teng, even as he clung to his father, rolled his eyes with abandon.

Qin Man gazed wordlessly at the sky, then, with practiced subtlety, kicked his brother.

Qin Teng grumbled, “What?”

“Father, I miss you so much. Will you sleep with me tonight?” Qin Man, rather than answering, tilted his little face and spoke in a saccharine voice.

Qin Teng: Ugh…

Qin Ye was genuinely charmed.

The two children were as pretty as porcelain dolls: Qin Teng, handsome and sunny; Qin Man, delicate and frail enough to evoke immediate sympathy from any elder. With his affected, cutesy voice, Qin Ye’s nonexistent fatherly instincts stirred to life. He tried to scoop them both up in his arms—only to find, alas, he couldn’t lift them.

The original body’s owner had been adept only at idle pleasures, neglecting exercise and disdaining martial arts as the pursuit of brutes. His physical condition was truly worrying.

Qin Man looked up at him, eyes shining, then stabbed him right in the heart: “Father, am I too heavy for you?”

The nickname “Manman” was one his mother had given him; his father had never even known of it, a testament to his indifference.

“Manman, you misunderstand. How could Father not lift you? You’re just a child, and I’m a robust, strong adult. How could I, a grown man, fail to lift a mere child? How could I possibly be so useless?” Qin Teng interjected.

Qin Ye smiled wryly—these two little devils knew exactly where to hit.

Refusing to rise to their bait, he released the boys, clasped his hands behind his back, and adopted a sage-like demeanor under their feigned innocence.

“To tell you the truth, your father was once the greatest martial artist in the land. But weary of the world’s strife, I chose to return to an ordinary life, marry your mother, and have children—along with concubines and siblings for you both.”

“And then?” Qin Man prompted with a look of guileless curiosity.

“Once I had you, I had a weakness. My peerless skills were broken. Now my body is riddled with ailments, weaker than a mere youth.” Qin Ye coughed for effect.

Qin Teng, arms folded, shot him a look that screamed: This old man, quite the storyteller.

Qin Man dabbed at imaginary tears with his tiny hand. “In my heart, Father will always be a great hero.”

“Good boy!” Qin Ye praised, then had his servant carry the two children off to his own quarters.

After washing up, Qin Ye undressed, climbed into bed, and patted the mattress. “Didn’t you say you missed Father and wanted to sleep with him?”

Qin Teng: …

Qin Man: …

The two brothers exchanged glances, each blaming the other.

The elder: This is your fault for pretending to be so cute! Do we really have to share a bed with this old man? Ugh…

The younger: Endure now, or our plans will be ruined. Only by currying favor with the old man can Mother live well. Once Uncle returns, he’ll deal with Father himself.

They reached an unspoken agreement and, stiff-limbed, clambered onto the bed.

Qin Teng tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. Lying next to the old man—who’d forced him to kneel and confess his faults just days before—he could barely contain his murderous rage.

Qin Man lay awake as well, though not out of anger like his brother, but because Qin Ye’s snoring was thunderous, making sleep impossible.

The next morning, the two boys appeared with drooping eyelids and pronounced dark circles, resembling two panda cubs who had only just taken human form and couldn’t yet hide their true colors.

Qin Ye, on the other hand, was bright-eyed and refreshed.

Elsewhere in the rear courtyard, Concubine Xing spat on the ground upon hearing the news. “Cui-shi is quite cunning, sending her children in like that. Does she think she’s the only one with children? Bring Wu’er here! Later, say he’s clamoring for his father and I simply can’t control him.”

Qin Ye was about to step out when he received this report. He paused for a moment.

“She can’t even manage her own son, yet she dares complain to me? Useless. If she can’t raise the child, she needn’t bother—I’ll have someone else do it.”

Concubine Xing had never expected such a reply, and was left weeping in frustration.

Meanwhile, the instigator was still being hounded by two fake-innocent children. This time, however, he was not alone in his escapades; it was now a trio of father and sons going out to walk chickens and pit dogs against each other.

The regulars had seen plenty of gentlemen at play, but rarely had they witnessed a master bringing his own children along.

“Master Qin, why bring your young sons with you today?” the proprietor joked.

Qin Ye, birdcage in hand, was flanked by his two sons—one leading a grand rooster, the other a fierce black dog.

“Ever heard of a lucky star? My sons are my lucky stars. Before, I let you win out of courtesy, but not today. With my lucky stars here, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The usual crowd burst into laughter. The original Qin Ye had always lost at these games, but loved playing regardless. No one believed he could turn his luck around; his boasts were only amusing.

This irked Qin Teng. Disliking his father was one thing, but for others to look down on the father of General Qin? That was intolerable.

Once the rooster and the dog entered the ring, they immediately dominated, sending the other animals fleeing in defeat.

Qin Ye laughed so hard he slapped his thigh, and on the way home, he affectionately hugged both the rooster and the dog, trudging back with difficulty.

Qin Teng and Qin Man followed, arms folded like tiny adults.

Qin Teng: Old man!

Qin Man: Old villain!