Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 61

61: Diverging Agendas in the Yun Household

Yun Jingchu’s return differed from previous homecomings only in her mourning attire and the addition of Zhou Ba to her retinue. Yet the reception she received—unprecedented warmth from eldest brother Yun Yongzhi, second sister Yun Hechu, and third brother Yun Suzhi awaiting her outside—contrasted sharply with fifteen years of neglect. Her old peripheral quarters had been replaced with prime accommodations.

Even Lady Yuan, who had habitually slighted her, now kept silent with a bow head. The usually spoiled fifth brother Yun Anzhi and sixth sister Yun Lanchu stood meek as quails in their mourning garb, avoiding Yun Jingchu’s gaze—whether from resentment or maternal instruction was unclear.

Petty and materialistic though she was, Lady Yuan excelled at reading the room—a skill that had once secured Yun Changliang’s favor. While Yun Anzhi’s status as legitimate heir played a role, Lady Yuan must have had other merits. Only Yun Changliang knew the exact weighting.

Having arrived in late January—over a month after Yun Changliang’s death in December—Yun Jingchu deduced Lady Yuan’s recent hardships from the woman’s subdued demeanor. Without her husband’s protection, reality had clearly dawned.

Regardless of Lady Yuan’s calculations, Yongzhi and Suzhi’s enthusiasm was palpable. Even Hechu, who had flaunted her mother’s favor after their shared birth mother’s death, now greeted Yun Jingchu with unprecedented warmth, as if their past estrangement never existed.

With Tian Qingyi, Yun Jingchu had never feigned weakness. Operating in business circles demanded confidence—vulnerability invited exploitation. Gradually, she’d grown accustomed to this authentic strength. Only the familiar Yun household reminded her of her former facade. Now, empowered by her new status, she saw no need to pretend.

The family scarcely recognized her—head high, voice firm. Had they not witnessed her past docility, they might have doubted this was the same person.

Though Yun Changliang’s coffin had lain in state for weeks, tradition required three months of mourning. Thus, despite her late arrival, Yun Jingchu would keep vigil for another month. With most condolences already paid, the hall was quiet save for rotating monks’ chants and the immediate family’s presence.

Though unmoved internally, Yun Jingchu joined the obligatory weeping after brief reunions. Her dramatic sobs—far more convincing than Yun Anzhi and Lanchu’s perfunctory sniffling—soon had the entire household wailing in concert, silencing neighbors who’d questioned her filial devotion. Some even lamented Yun Changliang’s timing—departing just as his daughter’s prestigious official connections promised greater prosperity.

Despite exhaustion from her arduous journey, Yun Jingchu insisted on night vigils, overriding half-hearted objections from Lady Yuan and Hechu while genuinely worrying Yongzhi and Suzhi. Her sacrifice allowed others to retire at midnight, earning their rare sincerity as they departed.

Alone in the hall with Yuanqi, Zhou Ba, and servants, Yun Jingchu mechanically fed spirit money into the brazier, her dry eyes fixed on the coffin. Her mind wandered through family history:

Four generations back, the Yuns were merchants. The founder nearly starved during a famine, surviving only by selling himself into servitude before redeeming his freedom through thrift and an employer’s patronage. Subsequent generations expanded into taverns, tea, and pawnshops, peaking as leaders of Kaifeng’s twelve guilds. A strategic marriage to an official’s sister cemented their rise—until the official’s untimely death severed that lifeline.

The family’s relentless pursuit of scholarly honor had borne little fruit—just two low-ranking purchased positions in the previous dynasty. Meanwhile, assets fragmented with each generation. By Yun Changliang’s inheritance, only six prime businesses remained—halved through his mismanagement until desperation drove him to ally with the then-struggling Jiufang Xin.

With Yongzhi and Suzhi’s help and Jiufang support, losses were partly recouped. Even diminished, the Yun fortune dwarfed Yun Jingchu’s substantial dowry.

As a married daughter, she stood to inherit nothing. Yongzhi and Suzhi’s kindness aimed solely at leveraging Jiufang connections for a larger share. Hechu and Lady Yuan’s motives were equally transparent—the former currying favor, the latter hoping for noninterference.

Days later, after private talks with Yongzhi and Suzhi, Yun Jingchu grasped the full picture. With mourning precluding immediate division, authority rested uneasily between the brothers, Lady Yuan, and two elders—while branch relatives circled like vultures.

Previous Yun patriarchs had dictated inheritances, leaving no room for dispute. But Yun Changliang’s sudden demise without instructions ignited fierce contention. Court intervention would mandate equal shares—even for Lanchu—a scenario all sought to avoid.

The already marginalized branches, having received inferior assets in past divisions, saw fresh opportunity. Yun Jingchu’s uncles were particularly vocal—their eyes gleaming with resurrected ambition.