“I’m glad you’re willing to wear it. As for what… Great Ming craftsmanship…”

Yang Wan held up one finger, “The finest craftsmanship in Great Ming!”

Deng Ying watched her genuine delight and smiled gently, “Did you bestow this title on me?”

“Yes.”

As she spoke, she removed the lotus jade pendant from her waist, took out the original fixing bead, and placed it beside her. Lowering her head, she threaded the new bead while saying: “I heard from the craftsmen at Taihe Hall before that you’re not only skilled in construction methods but also excellent at fine carving. They say you can even carve landscapes in relief inside tiny snuff bottles.”

The old matters she mentioned flowed past like water over stone.

Deng Ying spoke lightly: “That’s all in the past, and I learned it secretly when Master Zhang wasn’t watching.”

“Why did you have to learn in secret?”

Deng Ying bent down gently to help Yang Wan hold the jade pendant to prevent her strain, while honestly responding:

“Because officials shouldn’t spend too much effort on specific crafts. The teacher hoped I would study more of the ‘Book of Changes’ and ‘Book of Rites.'”

He looked at his own hands, “I wasn’t very skilled even before, and now I’ve forgotten many techniques. As for that snuff bottle, that’s their fabrication – I actually can’t do it.”

Yang Wan kept her head down while fixing the jade, seemingly asking casually: “That’s already quite remarkable. By the way, have you ever thought about not being the Eastern Depot Chief anymore, and becoming a craftsman outside instead?”

Deng Ying shook his head after hearing this, “A scholar cannot become a craftsman, they can only become officials. Similarly, a eunuch cannot become a craftsman, they can only be servants. Even if I’ve thought about it, it’s impossible.”

He finished speaking and picked up the notebook beside him again.

Yang Wan only then noticed that on the ginger-colored volume was written “Qing Something Strategy,” with the middle character hidden by Deng Ying’s hand.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh.” Deng Ying moved his finger and showed the volume to Yang Wan, “Written by your brother, strategies for implementing land clearing in the South.”

“May I take a look?”

“Sure.”

He turned the book over and handed it to Yang Wan.

Yang Wan quickly scanned several lines on the page he had turned to, immediately recalling when Yang Lun wrote the “Land Clearing Strategy” which later became world-famous. After the Zhenning years, countless copies of this article were passed down, so it was not only a famous policy document but also one of Yang Lun’s renowned calligraphy works.

Yang Wan reached out to take it, asking: “This article, has the Cabinet and Ceremonial Office not yet jointly discussed it before His Majesty?”

Deng Ying made a sound of agreement.

“This is my copy.”

“You copied it?”

“Yes.”

Hearing this, Yang Wan looked carefully at the characters on the paper.

It was said that after Deng Ying died, his residence was burned.

Perhaps for this reason, this person hadn’t left any handwriting in history. Since studying Deng Ying, this was the first time Yang Wan had seen his handwriting.

Unlike Yang Lun’s magnificent style, Deng Ying’s characters were extremely orderly, each stroke had its limits. The horizontal and vertical strokes, the left-falling and right-falling strokes were all contained within a perfectly appropriate force. When traces of sharpness appeared, they were suddenly contained, appearing without any hint of aggression, as standardized as characters from a printing block.

One’s writing reveals one’s character.

If he were in modern times, he would certainly be a young man who could wear a white shirt well, write in a perfect print style, and have a decent job related to scientific research and technology. Then like a cold gear, he would turn precisely, quietly, and lonely somewhere in the world.

“Your handwriting is really beautiful.”

Yang Wan couldn’t help but compliment him.

Deng Ying said: “Master Yang is the one with true accomplishments in calligraphy.”

Hearing this, Yang Wan smiled showing her teeth, “I don’t think so at all, he’s like someone writing with a mop, as if drunk on yellow wine, very confusing.”

Deng Ying couldn’t help but laugh.

This wasn’t the first time Yang Wan had teased Yang Lun in front of him, yet hearing it always inexplicably warmed his heart.

She was like a gravitational force between status differences, pulling Deng Ying out from the dark mire while bringing Yang Lun down from the clear sky, allowing them to temporarily walk parallel.

Seeing him smile without speaking, Yang Wan took up the volume herself and casually browsed through it.

Yang Lun’s writing style was quite ordinary, but his logic was exceptional. When Yang Wan was a graduate student before, one of her professional course teachers particularly liked Yang Lun. He said Yang Lun was a practical person, with average political sensitivity, but had a natural talent for grasping national economic and military matters. If Emperor Zhenning could have died a few years earlier, his achievements would have been even greater.

From this not-too-long article, Yang Wan could read the power of over a decade of diligent study and a decade of departmental experience.

She put down the volume and rubbed her slightly sore eyes, recalling historical materials related to Deng Ying from Zhenning’s thirteenth year. The first passage she thought of was from the “History of Ming,” describing his embezzlement of educational fields in Jiangnan.

This was also an important change in the later “Record of Hundred Crimes.”

“Deng Ying…”

“What is it?”

Yang Wan looked up at him, “If this strategy is implemented, who will the court… send to the South?”

Deng Ying said: “The Imperial Academy should select students to verify the land area, you… are you worried about Yang Lun?”

Yang Wan was originally worried about Deng Ying, but his mention made her recall the related historical records as well.

The spring and summer transition of Zhenning’s thirteenth year was when the Cabinet and Ceremonial Office were most strongly opposed. This political struggle, arising from land clearing, involved the imperial clan in Jiangnan, as well as most of the hidden fields belonging to He Yixian, Hu Xiang, and others in the South.

Yang Lun’s “Land Clearing Strategy” was extensively opposed, and he faced great difficulties in the South, nearly being killed on a river boat.

Meanwhile, a major incident known as the “Crane Residence Case” occurred in the palace. The Emperor’s second son Yi Jue, who had just been titled prince, was almost strangled to death by a palace maid in the Crane Residence. This case had far-reaching implications. Although only one palace maid attempted assassination, her escape led the Northern Commandery and Eastern Depot to investigate three hundred pairs of criminals. Among these palace servants, some were beaten to death, others were strangled. However, although the “History of Ming” emphasized this piece of history, it didn’t even record the name of a single palace maid.

Yang Wan’s advisor believed this was a smokescreen. He suspected that the person behind Yi Jue’s attempted murder was Consort Ning, but later Emperor Jinghe Zhu Yi Lang, to cover up his mother’s scandal, deliberately left a heavy stroke in the historical records about “killing three hundred people.”

However, this was just his theory, without enough historical materials to support it, so it wasn’t included in his published thesis. But this remained one of his research directions, and he particularly hoped Yang Wan would help him continue it. Unfortunately, Yang Wan was completely focused on Deng Ying and refused to participate in that project. Now thinking about it, she felt quite regretful.

“Deng Ying, do you think… is this a good time for land clearing?”

Deng Ying saw the worry on Yang Wan’s face and smiled, saying: “Whether it’s a good time or not, the Cabinet will only ask if it should be done. What I can do is ensure that those who serve the people don’t die, and those who serve the country don’t perish.”

Ensure that those who serve the people don’t die, and those who serve the country don’t perish.

Yang Wan silently recited this sentence in her heart.

Yang Lun died naturally, while the man before her was dismembered.

Indeed, those who served the people didn’t die, and those who served the country were praised throughout the world, but who could ensure that the person who spoke these words wouldn’t die?

Forget about not dying, at least let him not suffer so much before his death.

Thinking this, she decided not to dwell on this complex history of Zhenning’s thirteenth year in front of Deng Ying, and gently patted the back of his hand.

“Would you like some nuts? I brought some, I’ll shell fresh ones for you.”

Deng Ying nodded, “Then I’ll go pour another pot of tea.”

Yang Wan watched him support himself on the table edge to stand up, even having to pause when straightening his back, clearly still in severe pain, and suddenly blurted out: “I want to ask Imperial Physician Peng if there’s any way to help strengthen your body.”

“I’m fine.”

Yang Wan asked doubtfully: “Actually, I see Zhang Luo can already serve duty, why were your ten strokes beaten so heavily?”

After speaking, she suddenly realized, “Was it the Northern Commandery who administered the punishment?”

Deng Ying didn’t answer, still only saying: “It’s fine.”

“How can it be fine, Zhang Luo…”

Deng Ying shook his head, comforting her: “Really, it’s fine. Although Master Zhang is very cruel in matters of punishment, he doesn’t show favoritism or vent personal grudges. He treats everyone the same. He was beaten too, just that his body is strong, he didn’t make a sound when beaten, and could walk back by himself afterward.” After speaking, he picked up the kettle from the small stove, brewed a second round of tea, and filled a cup to hand to Yang Wan.

Yang Wan took the tea and said: “He doesn’t vent personal grudges? But I feel he must hate me to death.”

“Why?”

Yang Wan smiled, her voice becoming calm, “This is the second time I’ve caused him to receive the rod punishment. I hope he has some humanity, so the imperial prison during the Zhenning years wouldn’t have been so terrifying.”

Deng Ying slowly sat down on the bed platform, “Yang Wan, Zhang Luo is not an extremely evil person, and the imperial prison… isn’t completely hell. The judicial path is overcrowded with officials, relationships are complex, and many cases might not make it to the Three Judicial Offices. But the Northern Commandery is different. Although its prison is very cruel for officials, it might not be a bad door for justice for those without power, it’s a path for commoners and servants to have their voices reach imperial ears. In this aspect, Zhang Luo has done quite well.”

After hearing this speech, Yang Wan lowered her head and remained silent for a while, saying softly: “You make me feel ashamed.”

The implication of this sentence included Yang Wan’s self-reflection as someone who had consistently adhered to dialectics, but Deng Ying couldn’t understand this.

He watched Yang Wan lower her head without speaking, instinctively thinking he had said something wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

Yang Wan shook her head, picking up a peanut from the shell.

Seeing this, Deng Ying quickly grabbed one too, shelling it along with her.

“Let me shell them.”

He said while gathering all the nuts in front of Yang Wan to himself, “I’m sorry…”

Yang Wan shook her head with a smile, “Deng Ying, you always said I could do anything. I’m the same way, you can say anything to me, and you don’t always have to say sorry to me.”

The peanut shell cracked with a pop, and two clean peanut kernels fell into Yang Wan’s palm. She extended her hand toward Deng Ying.

“The reason I feel ashamed is because I think compared to you, I see people too superficially. I thought because he was harsh with me and severe with you, he was just an evil person not worth discussing. Others thinking this way is one thing, but even I thought this way, it’s not right…”

By the end, she gave a self-mocking smile and looked at Deng Ying’s hands.

“Someone like you really shouldn’t be treated this way.”

She said this very softly, and Deng Ying didn’t hear clearly.

Those hands were still shelling peanuts, white kernels jumping out of their shells one by one, falling into the oiled paper.

“What?”

Yang Wan suddenly felt very regretful, why hadn’t she transmigrated as a man? If she were a man, she would definitely take the imperial examinations, enter the Imperial Academy, and finally become a historian. Even if she were beheaded by those in power, she would write this person’s entire life truthfully into the history of the Great Ming Dynasty.

“I said, if I were a man, I would become a historian.”

“Why?”

Yang Wan raised her head, “I want to protect the person who ‘ensures those who serve the people don’t die.’ Although he doesn’t care about his posthumous reputation, I want to consider it for him, fight a battle for him in writing.”