At the entrance of the Xie residence, two neatly dressed servants had been waiting for some time.
When the carriage came to a steady stop, they stepped forward, took Xie Yushu’s bundle, and greeted her respectfully.
The household steward gave a slight bow and led the way. Xie Yushu followed behind.
They passed through the grand, heavy vermilion gate, then around an exquisitely carved brick screen wall—and only then were they truly inside the Xie residence.
The front courtyard had its own world. Beneath their feet were smooth, tightly fitted terrazzo tiles—not a single gap to be seen. On both sides, flowerbeds were planted with shrubs and trees she couldn’t name, arranged at varying heights—clearly tended by professionals.
A little further in, she could see multi-angled glass lanterns hanging under the eaves, brightly lit even at this hour. The beams above were carved with floral patterns, and every few steps stood a thick, red-lacquered pillar—ancient with touches of elegance.
At the entrance of the main hall stood a large celadon basin for warding off evil and attracting wealth, where a few plump koi swam lazily, their tails occasionally brushing against floating lily pads—a living picture of koi playing among lotus leaves. Quite a scene. Xie Yushu couldn’t help but take a second look—it was beautiful.
She couldn’t help thinking: no wonder the Xie family was such a great household. Just the front courtyard, where guests were received, was larger than her own home.
She thought of her little yard back home—firewood piled in the corner, vegetables planted along the wall, smoke rising from the kitchen chimney. She and Su Chi had thought it was just right, happy in their little world. But compared to this, it looked like a humble shed.
Before arriving, Xie Yushu had worried the Xie family might have nouveau riche taste. But it seemed they had style—every detail elegant, yet subtly revealing the family’s wealth and grandeur.
The Xie family had taste, after all.
Soon they reached the main hall. Xie Yushu took in the people there at a glance.
Her family.
They were all dressed in fine clothes, eagerly watching the entrance.
When they saw her appear at the door, their expressions shifted from surprise to agitation, and they stepped forward.
The two elders at the front—one dignified and commanding, the other—though aged, still possessed a gentle grace, his eyes reddened with affection. One must be her grandmother, the other her grandfather.
Xie Qi stood beside them, her expression one of relief. Another woman, with features somewhat like Xie Qi’s, was likely her third aunt, Xie Xuan.
Everyone who mattered in the Xie household was here—as if welcoming a most honored guest. It made Xie Yushu feel a little undeserving.
Before she could react, her hand was clasped by a pair of warm hands.
Those hands trembled slightly but held tight, as if afraid she might disappear: “Little Shu! My little Shu has come home!”
Wen Fulang’s voice shook with emotion, like a parent welcoming a child who’d been away for years: “Your second aunt told us your mother left behind you. I felt Heaven had shown mercy, keeping your mother’s bloodline alive.”
He studied Xie Yushu’s face carefully, a smile appearing through his tears: “So alike… truly alike. You and your mother look so much alike—one look and I knew you were her child.”
Xie Mu stepped forward from beside Wen Fulang. Her face remained solemn, but her steady eyes lingered on the face so similar to her eldest daughter’s—something flickered in them. She lowered her gaze for a moment, then looked up and lightly patted Xie Yushu’s shoulder: “You’ve suffered all these years.”
Her voice was low, but carried an almost imperceptible tremor.
Beside them, Xie Qi smiled warmly and subtly signaled to Xie Yushu, tilting her chin slightly toward the elders. Xie Yushu understood immediately.
She called out respectfully, “Grandmother,” and then gently said to the man holding her hand, “Grandfather.” Then to her third aunt, “Third Aunt.”
Xie Xuan smiled and nodded in response.
And with that, Xie Yushu had met them all.
Overjoyed, they ushered her inside.
She was seated beside Wen Fulang. A servant brought tea, and Xie Yushu sipped half the cup, warming herself.
When she looked up, they were all staring at her intently. She felt a little uncomfortable.
After fielding a barrage of caring questions from her grandfather and third aunt—”Was the journey tiring?” “Are you hungry?” “Are you cold?”—she answered each patiently.
They also asked about her life. A quarter of an hour later, Xie Mu finally spoke: “The child must be tired—let her go rest.”
Wen Fulang finally relented, nodding: “Yes, Little Shu, go rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
Xie Qi personally escorted Xie Yushu to her room.
She was given her mother’s former courtyard. The room was spotless—servants said the master and his husband had ordered it cleaned daily, hoping for the day their eldest daughter would return.
Before leaving, Xie Qi smiled and said, “It’s too late now. Your younger cousins have all gone to bed—otherwise, I’d have them come out to welcome their big sister.”
Xie Yushu laughed: “There’s no need for such a grand welcome. They’re growing—early to bed and early to rise is best.”
The next day, perhaps because she was in an unfamiliar place, Xie Yushu woke early. She’d just finished washing when she was invited to have breakfast with the two elders.
When she arrived at the dining hall, the old couple were already waiting. Wen Fulang had changed clothes several times, and Xie Mu—though she said nothing—had also changed twice.
Before them, the table was laden with bowls and plates: side dishes, pastries, congee—one after another, enough to make Xie Yushu’s head spin.
She was inwardly amazed—such extravagance among the wealthy! Even breakfast was this lavish.
Surely they didn’t throw away everything uneaten? That wasn’t a good habit.
The dishes were a set of fine bluish-white porcelain, thin as paper with a warm glaze—clearly from their own kilns. Xie Yushu’s heart stirred—she liked these; Su Chi would love them too.
Wen Fulang smiled and took his granddaughter’s hand, seating her beside him: “Did you sleep well last night?”
“Very well—that’s why I’m so energetic today.” Xie Yushu made sure to say the pleasant things to cheer him up.
She addressed them properly, and Wen Fulang beamed with joy. Even the usually stern Xie Mu nodded with a smile, her gaze softening.
The servants stood waiting nearby, but Xie Mu waved them all out.
Wen Fulang personally ladled out a small bowl of snow fungus and shredded chicken congee. The broth was thick and rich, the congee sweet, with the delicate flavor of snow fungus mingling with thin, golden strips of chicken.
He also picked up a bite of olive vegetable stir-fried with bamboo shoots and placed it in her bowl, chatting casually:
“Your aunts went to the shops early. Only us and the little ones are home,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the mention of the children. “Your cousins are all eating in their own courtyards. They’ll join us for lunch.”
Xie Yushu listened as she ate. One spoonful of the congee was so fresh and delicious it made her eyebrows lift; the olive vegetable and bamboo shoots were savory and crisp—perfect with the porridge. Before she knew it, she’d finished half the bowl.
She also helped herself to the plate of lightly dressed fresh walnuts in front of her.
The walnuts had just been harvested—shelled, the thin skin removed to reveal the snowy-white kernels, broken into pieces and tossed with salt and Sichuan pepper oil. They had a faint milky aroma, and Xie Yushu couldn’t resist several bites.
She also ate some mushroom-filled steamed dumplings and two flaky pastries made with goose fat.
Seeing her eat with such relish, Wen Fulang was delighted and added more congee, along with a few lamb shaomai.
Xie Yushu finished it all, even complimenting the cook’s skill.
“Our cooks come from all over—you’re sure to find dishes you like,” Xie Mu said, rare words from her. She set down her chopsticks and asked, “Little Shu, how long will you be staying this time?”
Seeing their hopeful gazes on her, Xie Yushu had to be honest: “I can’t stay long—only a few days.”
Wen Fulang grew anxious: “How can that be! You’ve been out there for over ten years. We’ve only just found you—how can you leave after a few days?”
Xie Mu soothed her husband, telling him not to worry: “I heard Little Shu runs a business. She’ll need to go back and tend to it. Whatever time she can spare is fine.”
Xie Qi had told them everything about Xie Yushu when she returned. Xie Mu knew how capable her eldest grandchild was—building a business from nothing, earning recognition from the local merchant association, and earning the respect of the Tang family.
Xie Mu, a born businesswoman, admired Xie Yushu’s talent—she reminded her of herself and of her mother. It only deepened her affection.
After the meal, servants brought warm, damp towels for each of them to clean their hands and rinse their mouths. Then they all moved to the flower hall.
A group was already waiting in the flower hall—the husbands and children of Xie Qi and Xie Xuan. There were five children: three girls and two boys, ranging from about thirteen or fourteen to barely knee-high, held by the hand.
They were chatting and laughing, but when they saw their grandmother arrive, they fell silent and stood neatly in place.
Xie Mu introduced Xie Yushu to them: “This is your big sister.”
She’d confirmed the date of Xie Yushu’s birth—she was indeed the eldest grandchild.
The children, well-bred by the Xie family, had already been told by their mothers that a new big sister would be coming home—their long-lost aunt’s daughter.
They gathered around Xie Yushu, calling out “Big Sister” in sweet voices. She smiled at each of them and patted their heads one by one.
Then they were introduced to the husbands of the second and third branches: “This is Little Shu—Lan’s child.”
They’d learned of this a few days ago and were no less surprised. Today, meeting her in person, they nodded warmly, their eyes full of sympathy.
With all the attention on Xie Yushu today, the usually rambunctious children, normally kept in line by Grandmother Xie Mu, relaxed and began to play and giggle among themselves.
Suddenly, Xie Yushu felt something warm against her arm. Looking down, she saw a little fluffy puppy nuzzling her with its fuzzy head.
It was being held by one of the younger children—wearing a yellow padded jacket, with delicate features and a trace of baby fat on the cheeks.
It was Xie Qi’s youngest daughter, Xie Yumo, holding the puppy she’d found in Tang’an County that day.
Xie Yumo cradled the chubby little pup in her arms, its mouth ringed with white smears—it had just been fed and had come running over. She thought her baby puppy was so adorable that her big sister would surely love it, so she’d picked it up to show her.
The puppy whimpered softly at Xie Yushu, melting Xie Yumo’s heart. She said, “Big sister, look—my puppy.”
Xie Yushu found it adorable. Not wanting to play favorites, she first patted Xie Yumo’s soft head, then gently rubbed the puppy’s round belly, smiling: “The puppy’s very cute—and so are you.”
Xie Yumo’s face showed a hint of surprise. No one in the household ever called her cute or clever—those words were for ge’er. But being praised by this beautiful big sister made her heart leap with joy. She sweetly acknowledged the compliment.
At lunch, the whole Xie family gathered in the dining hall.
The adults sat at one table, the children at another.
The adults chatted idly, every other sentence circling back to Xie Yushu.
Third Aunt’s husband spoke up: “Little Shu is married? Why didn’t you bring your fulang along?”
None of the younger Xie generation were old enough to marry—only Xie Yushu. Naturally, the elders asked more.
At the thought of Su Chi, Xie Yushu’s expression softened, a smile tugging at her lips: “The prefecture is far—he’s never traveled such a distance. I was afraid he wouldn’t adjust, so I thought I’d come scope it out first.”
The two husbands exchanged a knowing smile. Clearly, she loved her fulang dearly—cherished him at the very tip of her heart.
Wen Fulang, seeing his granddaughter was caring, was pleased and served her a piece of roasted lamb leg: “Roasted lamb leg—your mother’s favorite.”
The lamb had been roasted whole and then cut into bite-sized pieces.
They chatted and laughed in a warm atmosphere until Xie Mu asked: “Little Shu, how’s your business—”
Catching the implication, Xie Yushu set down her chopsticks and smiled at her grandmother: “Grandmother, the business is fine. It’s a modest operation, but it runs well. I can manage.”
Everyone understood Xie Mu’s intention—she wanted to offer the family’s backing. But they also understood Xie Yushu’s meaning—she didn’t want that support.
Wen Fulang understood too. He couldn’t speak harshly to her, but he couldn’t help a mild complaint: “You’re just as stubborn as your mother. Neither of you ever wants to rely on the family. Is this place such a den of wolves that you can’t bear to lean on us?”
Xie Yushu first served her grandfather a bite of food, then smiled: “Grandfather, you misunderstand. The family is wonderful in every way. But having ambition and going out to make one’s own way is also a kind of strength. Neither is nobler than the other—they’re just different choices. It’s not that I disdain the family.”
Her words rang clear, neither humble nor arrogant. Everyone in the room was taken aback—even the children at the next table perked up their ears.
No wonder she was their big sister—she spoke with such courage.
Her words struck the right balance—neither rejecting her elders’ kindness nor compromising her own position.
Xie Mu’s hand paused. She said nothing. But Wen Fulang was moved to tears: “Child, you’re exactly like your mother.” His voice was both pained and proud.
They wanted to be relied upon, to offer the family’s wealth as a safety net. But their ambitious child didn’t need that—she wanted to carve her own path.
Had their Lan felt the same way? Constrained by them, forced into an unhappy match—was that why she’d stayed away all those years?
Xie Mu’s gaze on Xie Yushu deepened. She raised her cup and drained it in one go. When she set it down, the heaviness in her eyes had dissipated, replaced by a hearty laugh: “Ha ha ha! Now that’s a child of the Xie family.”
Her granddaughter was clear-headed and pragmatic—more so than the two of them.
Each child must walk their own path. They couldn’t change that—all they could do was keep the Xie home open, so that whenever they grew tired, they could always come back and lean on it.
That afternoon, Xie Yushu’s name was entered into the Xie family genealogy. Over the next two days, her family took her around the vast prefecture. Then she spent a few more days at the Xie residence with the elders.
On the day she was to leave, the Xie family packed half a carriage full of things for her to take back—she didn’t dare guess what treasures were among them.
Wen Fulang still held her hand, unwilling to let go. Xie Mu also hated to see her go, reminding her: “Come back when you have time—your grandfather will be thinking of you.”
Xie Yushu promised them all, saying she’d bring her fulang next time.
“Don’t grieve too much. Don’t let it wear on you. Live well—Mother… Mother wouldn’t want you to be so sad.”
Then she stepped into the carriage, ready to head home.
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