Chapter 200: This Water Is Too Deep, He

The Second Madam resolved a matter weighing on her heart and felt much better, deciding to pay her respects to the Old Lady.

On her way, she overheard servants gossiping about her nephew's entry into the Wang Fu, and she flew into a rage, berating them loudly, screaming for beatings and even deaths.

The commotion drew the attention of the Old Lady.

The Old Lady had been seething with suppressed anger for days.

The First Master returned victorious; though he gained no promotion, he received imperial rewards, the Emperor's praise, and a vast haul of wealth. The First Branch's power had risen, blazing like the midday sun, while the Second Branch could only retreat, deferring to them in every matter.

Having been masters of the Hou Fu for over twenty years, the entire Second Branch now choked on the humiliation of becoming mere servants to the First Branch.

The Old Lady herself had lain abed for days, feigning summer heat and summer sickness to avoid being mocked.

Learning the Second Madam was causing trouble again, her fury erupted: "Go fetch the Second Madam. She's barely calmed down, and now she's stirring up chaos again—does she want the whole city to know her nephew's disgrace? The Hou Fu's reputation is tarnished by her family, yet I haven't blamed her, and still she dares to make a scene!"

When summoned, the Second Madam arrived furious, intending to lodge a complaint: the servants had grown utterly unruly, the household in chaos—strict discipline was urgently needed!

But the Old Lady opened her mouth and unleashed a torrent of abuse; the Second Madam was left utterly stunned.

The Old Lady pointed at her face: "Look at yourself—aren't you ashamed enough? Do you need the whole street to know your shame? The Hou Fu's honor has been dragged through the mud by your family, and I've said nothing. Now, when times are hardest, can't you show me some consideration? Must I, an old woman, still worry over your affairs?"

The Second Madam felt deeply wronged: "Old Lady, your daughter-in-law…"

"Shut up! You'd better go back to bed. Don't meddle in outside matters."

The Second Madam slunk away, utterly humiliated.

After the servants left, the Old Lady regretted publicly shaming her daughter-in-law—how could she maintain authority over the servants if her own kin were disgraced?

Yet she would never admit regret aloud; she would only scold even more fiercely.

The news reached the First Master.

The First Master, in his study, was accompanied by scholarly guests, admiring newly acquired calligraphy and paintings, cultivating calm.

The steward stood respectfully beside him.

"The Old Lady is overheated, her inner fire too strong. Send for a physician—get her two doses of cooling medicine," the First Master instructed.

The steward hesitated. "Master, is this appropriate?"

"What's inappropriate? As a son, honoring the Old Lady—is that wrong? Even though she's not my birth mother, I've always treated her as such. Go!" The First Master spoke with perfect assurance, his words noble and righteous. The scholarly guests applauded, praising his filial piety.

The steward didn't move. Internally, he was torn: "Master, the weather is scorching—if the Old Lady falls ill…" What if she fell ill because of the First Master's actions?

The Old Lady must die only of illness—or accident—but never be linked to the First Master. Many in court watch him closely; if the Second Master is pushed too far, he might rally allies. Even if he can't kill, he can ruin the First Master's name.

In official circles, reputation is everything. Especially for someone like the First Master—any rumor of filial impiety, of driving his stepmother to death, is an absolute line. Cross it, and the court and palace will have grounds to destroy him.

The First Master clearly understood the steward's implication—and his fear.

He laughed heartily: "What's to fear? The Old Lady's in fine health—she'll live another ten, twenty years. Go at once, do as I say. I am a model filial son."

The steward sighed inwardly, helplessly, and obeyed, sending for a physician to prepare cooling medicine for the Old Lady.

The Old Lady: …

Her stepson was filial—what could she do?

She smiled sweetly, accepted his "filial piety," hid her fury, and ordered gifts of tonics sent to the First Master.

What a picture of maternal kindness and filial devotion!

Outsiders unaware of the truth were moved to tears!

…

Master Du brought Chen Guanlou a piece of news.

"The First Master learned Liu Daowen is imprisoned in Tianlaomiao and specifically demands Liu's painting, 'Stepping on Snow'! He wants you to secure it—price is negotiable."

"Why has the First Master suddenly taken interest in Liu Daowen's painting?"

Master Du glanced around, then whispered: "The First Master has heard rumors—the imperial verdict on Liu Daowen is already decided. He wants to seize the painting before the court acts."

Liu Daowen was backed by Jiang Tu; though imprisoned in Tianlaomiao, his household had not been seized—most of his wealth remained intact.

From the First Master's tone, the verdict must mean confiscation?

If the estate is seized, the finest treasures go straight into the old Emperor's private treasury—then they'll be beyond reach.

"I'll do my best."

"Not 'best'—you must secure 'Stepping on Snow.'"

"Why?" Chen Guanlou asked.

Master Du analyzed: "You've already caught the First Master's eye. If you succeed, he'll have more use for you. From now on, with him as your patron, you'll rise. Fail, and he'll lose faith—you'll never get another chance to cling to him."

Chen Guanlou feigned ignorance, asking casually: "What could the First Master possibly need me for? The Hou Fu has countless capable men waiting to serve him. He doesn't lack talent."

"Talent? Plenty. But talent with the surname Chen? Scarce. Same surname, same clan—natural trust. Little Chen, don't miss this chance."

Chen Guanlou weighed his options.

Buying the painting from Liu Daowen was simple—if Liu knew confiscation was coming, he'd want to sell off valuables first.

But how to cling to the First Master? Chen Guanlou wasn't sure.

Clinging to the First Master was always the plan—but his goal was transaction, not blind loyalty. Should he really go so far as to serve as his agent, running errands and solving problems?

"What's there to hesitate over?" Master Du didn't understand Chen Guanlou's hesitation—such an opportunity handed to him, yet his reaction was always unlike others'.

"Fine. One ancestral line passed down—the Hou Fu can't truly be exterminated."

"Spit spit spit, always talking nonsense," Master Du spat, offended. "Can't you think of something good? The First Master just returned victorious, riding high—why are you thinking of extermination?"

Chen Guanlou laughed, brushed it off with idle words—he couldn't say the palace was unstable, that the old Emperor deeply distrusted the First Master.

According to his intelligence, the nobility all sided with the Crown Prince.

Yet the Crown Prince and the old Emperor were now at bitter odds—if these father and son erupted into bloodshed, the Hou Fu might be dragged into it.

This water was too deep—he feared even glancing at it from shore.

He only wanted to watch from afar, remain a simple jailer.