Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 62

62: The Yun Siblings Vie for Inheritance

Since the previous generation had already divided the family assets, Yun Jingchu’s two uncles—no matter how closely related to the main branch or how much they clamored—had no right to claim further shares. To put it bluntly, even the unmarried Yun Lanchu had more legitimate claim than they did.

They were aware of this, so their agitation wasn’t directed at claiming shares directly. Instead, after weighing the pros and cons, each uncle chose a nephew to support. What private agreements they might have reached with these nephews remained known only to themselves. Ironically, Yun Anzhi—the legitimate son whom Yun Changliang had valued above all other children—received no support whatsoever.

While the Yun family did generally favor sons over daughters, they placed less emphasis on legitimate versus illegitimate offspring. As merchants, what truly mattered to them was capability and potential benefits. Moreover, Yun Anzhi was notorious for his young age and spoiled temperament—even Yun Changliang had struggled to control his outbursts. Coupled with his short-sighted, money-grubbing mother, anyone considering supporting him would inevitably think twice after assessing the situation.

It was precisely because Lady Yuan and her children lacked support and faced overt and covert disdain from others—with Yun Changliang no longer around to shield them—that they were forced to behave meekly. As for what they truly thought, only they knew.

On this day, when it was again Yun Jingchu’s turn to keep vigil, the others gradually left at the appointed time. To her surprise, Lady Yuan lingered hesitantly, burning spirit money halfheartedly beside her while stealing occasional glances, as if wanting to say something but not daring to speak up.

Had it been anyone else, Yun Jingchu might have inquired. But since it was Lady Yuan, she couldn’t be bothered. Beyond the necessary formalities of etiquette, she had no intention of initiating conversation with her stepmother.

Since Yun Changliang’s death, Lady Yuan had experienced firsthand the fickleness of human relationships—something she’d never endured before. Facing her stepdaughter’s icy expression, she felt an uncharacteristic pang of guilt and fear. Were it only herself at stake, she would never have lowered her head like this. But for her children’s sake, she was willing.

Their conflict ran deep, and she didn’t dare hope for forgiveness. Her reason for humbling herself now was simply to ensure Yun Jingchu wouldn’t interfere.

After steeling herself for a while longer, Lady Yuan finally spoke in a near-whisper, eyes fixed on the burning paper: “That wicked Nurse Wu and her ilk committed unforgivable crimes. Letting them go unpunished would undermine authority. I’ve already sold them to Suizhou—they say it’s unstable there.”

“Disposing of unruly servants is the right of the household’s matriarch. Stepmother need not explain such matters to a junior like me.” Had Yun Jingchu not been sitting right beside her, she might not have even heard the words.

Though aware that Lady Yuan was deliberately trying to curry favor—and likely had more to say—Yun Jingchu had no interest in hearing it. She opted to play dumb instead.

Baoqin and the others standing guard nearby could see Lady Yuan’s lips moving but couldn’t make out her words. Yun Jingchu’s loud, clear response, however, left no room for misunderstanding—those familiar with the situation could easily guess the gist.

Having not anticipated such a blunt, face-denying rebuttal, Lady Yuan felt her attempt at reconciliation had only earned her stepdaughter’s mockery. Her expression darkened instantly. Tossing the remaining spirit money into the brazier, she stormed off in a huff.

Yun Jingchu continued burning paper quietly without so much as lifting her head. In contrast, Baoqin launched into indignant tirades about past injustices—acts no proper stepmother should ever have committed—until even Yuanqi joined in the outrage.

Though social visits and banquets were discouraged during mourning, Yun Jingchu—as a married daughter—still made time to return briefly to the Jiufang household. She paid respects to her parents-in-law, delivered letters, checked on her shops and estates, and retrieved Baoqin.

Yun Changliang’s sudden death had caught everyone off guard—including Jiufang Xin and Fan Zhuzhu. Jiufang Xin, especially, never imagined Yun Changliang would predecease him without even arranging his affairs.

The current inheritance dispute was the last thing he wanted. Though he’d secured Chancellor Wang’s patronage, maintaining that connection required funds—far beyond what the family’s regular income could provide. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have essentially sold his second son’s marriage in the first place.

With the entire Jiufang household’s expenses to consider—and no more children’s marriages to barter—he was left sleepless for nights before settling on austerity measures: reducing the ancestral estate’s reserve fund from 40% to 20%, and cutting off or minimizing handouts to freeloading relatives. Household expenditures, however, remained untouched—he couldn’t risk losing face before former colleagues.

Li Yan wholeheartedly approved of these decisions. She’d long resented the relatives who came begging year after year—especially Third Uncle’s family, whose greed knew no bounds. No amount ever satisfied them.

Since Fan Zhuzhu’s birthday incident, Jiufang Qiyu had taken to staying out overnight frequently. At first, Li Yan protested, but eventually gave up and settled for separate lives. It was only when Jiufang Xin—eager for grandchildren—berated his son that Qiyu showed slight improvement, though he still skipped home regularly.

Fan Zhuzhu kept entirely to herself, never commenting on Qiyu and Li Yan’s affairs. Jiufang Xin now deeply regretted choosing such a useless ally, but with the marriage alliance sealed, overt hostility wasn’t an option—nor was closeness. Thus, post Yun Changliang, Jiufang Xin interactions remained perfunctory, strictly for appearances.

Yun Jingchu, however, remained a satisfactory daughter-in-law. During her visit, Jiufang Xin—uncharacteristically—offered condolences, inquired after her health, and even asked about Tian Qingyi. His ostensibly caring questions about their wellbeing were actually probing for pregnancy news. Yun Jingchu, who couldn’t possibly be pregnant, vaguely attributed it to Tian Qingyi’s busy official duties.

Fan Zhuzhu had much to say but kept it brief due to time constraints, simply urging Yun Jingchu to focus on mourning and not worry about household affairs—though she should send word if difficulties arose. Yun Jingchu agreed.

After the obligatory visits, Yun Jingchu returned to Yuzhu Hall. Learning of Qiyu’s frequent absences and Li Yan’s singular focus on household management, she visited Qin Hai Residence. With no one else to confide in since Yun Jingchu’s departure, Li Yan talked for nearly half an hour before Yun Jingchu finally returned to the Yun household with Baoqin at nightfall.

With all necessary visits completed, Yun Jingchu settled into a mourning routine at the Yun residence.

After Lady Yuan left, the hall held only trusted attendants. With Zhou Ba guarding outside and Baoqin speaking softly, Yun Jingchu let them chatter—until Baoqin brought up the incident when Yun Jingchu burned her hand during her home visit.

Though Baoqin didn’t know details, her vivid account reminded Yun Jingchu of Lady Yuan deliberately spilling hot water on her, offering crocodile apologies laced with threats. The contrast with today’s hesitant demeanor was stark.

She certainly hated Lady Yuan—even held grudges against Yun Changliang—but her revenge had only aimed to take what they cherished most, never their lives. Yet Yun Changliang had orchestrated his own demise, while his beloved concubine—branded an ill omen—was sold off before Yun Jingchu even met her.

Hadn’t Yun Changliang planned for Yun Anzhi to inherit the bulk of the estate, leaving mere scraps for Yongzhi and Suzhi while expecting them to slave for him? She’d ensure that plan failed.

As for Lady Yuan, revenge was simpler: strip away as much wealth as possible—especially what she’d already mentally allocated to Yun Anzhi—and let the heartache consume her. Knowing the trio’s nature, their decline without Yun Changliang’s protection was inevitable. She only needs to watch.

Society and Yun Changliang’s influence meant Lady Yuan loved daughter Lanchu far less than son Anzhi. Thus, as a “good sister,” Yun Jingchu decided to help Lanchu claim a share too.

As for Yongzhi and Suzhi—with supporters, experience, and age on their side—Yun Changliang’s lack of will worked to their advantage. After private discussions, Yun Jingchu withdrew further assistance. At worst, equal division still favored them greatly.

The shops and estates performed as expected: last year’s targets met, this year’s being drafted. To motivate staff, she decided to allocate partial profits as year-end bonuses—a concept inspired by Tian Qingyi during their discussions on human nature.

While Yun Jingchu believed generous pay guaranteed willing workers (“human greed”), Tian Qingyi argued that willingness differed from enthusiasm. To inspire the latter, rewards should be staggered—partial upfront, the rest conditional on annual targets (with penalties for underperformance, rewards for meeting goals, and bonuses for exceeding them).

This carrot-on-a-stick approach would ensure diligence. They’d even debated specifics: what percentage to allocate, optimal reward structures, etc. Yun Jingchu found the logic sound and had planned remote trials—but circumstances changed. Now back, she could implement it personally and adjust as needed.

Compared to Yun Jingchu’s business concerns, Tian Qingyi’s responsibilities were overwhelming: daily administration, legal cases, spring rituals (like the ceremonial ox-beating), promoting Champa rice (a prefecture-mandated priority), and education oversight.

Each year, the magistrate convened school headmasters—a tradition she couldn’t skip. To minimize hypocrisy, she listened more than spoke, offering county funds where possible to struggling institutions. Public funds were one thing, but she refused to dip into personal finances—unless it was a girls’ school.

The educational inequality infuriated her. Why shouldn’t women study? When time and funds allowed, she vowed to establish a girls-only academy.

Soon came Tian Qingyi’s birthday. Fan Zhuzhu sent gifts aplenty—clothes, food, supplies—even Jiufang Xin contributed silver notes, concerned about her finances.

Though celebrating alone for the first time since transmigrating, Tian Qingyi treated herself to a tofu feast and sneaked some fruit wine. Yun Jingchu had claimed no gift was prepared, so she expected none—yet couldn’t help feeling melancholy. Here she was, a properly wedded wife with family, spending her birthday alone in a foreign land.

As the evening wore on and Tian Qingyi grew increasingly despondent, Xiaozhu judged the moment right. Producing a package entrusted by Yun Jingchu, she explained: “Second Madam prepared this birthday gift, insisting it only be presented today.”