On the surface, there seemed to be nothing happening after the New Year. Jiang Quan’s case verdict had also come down—he was sentenced to execution by beheading. Actually, wealthy families had plenty of sordid affairs, and with slight concealment, the outcome would typically be losing one’s official hat and reputation at most. The consequence of losing one’s life was somewhat severe, but when people considered who the victim was, they understood perfectly. Of all people to harm, he had to target the General’s Manor’s young lady. Zhao Guang had applied considerable pressure to the judges in this case, and the final verdict was personally reviewed by the Emperor. When walls fall, everyone pushes; when trees topple, monkeys scatter. Those who had previously fawned over Jiang Quan now wished they could distance themselves completely from him, so naturally no one would speak up for Jiang Quan.
On the day of Jiang Quan’s execution, Jiang Ruan didn’t attend. Lian Qiao didn’t dare ask too much, thinking that after all, he was Jiang Ruan’s biological father. No matter how harshly she spoke normally, personally sending one’s own father to the execution block was another matter entirely—Jiang Ruan must be very sad. Seeing Lian Qiao’s careful manner, Jiang Ruan found it rather amusing. She and Jiang Quan had been mortal enemies in her previous life, and this life hadn’t changed that. One of them had to die by the other’s hand. As for blood relations and family affection, just as Jiang Xinzhi had told her that day, this life she had no connection to the Jiang family.
Speaking of this matter, Lian Qiao remembered something: “Young Madam, the eldest young master has also spoken with the General’s Manor. Madam’s memorial tablet will be moved to the General’s Manor’s ancestral hall another day, and her name will be removed from the Jiang family genealogy. In the future, the Jiang clan won’t be able to use this matter to cause trouble.”
Jiang Ruan sending her biological father to the execution block should have stirred up quite a commotion in the capital. Human nature is such that whenever there’s something worth discussing, people like to position themselves as wise commentators on worldly affairs. Yet even several days after Jiang Quan’s execution, not a word criticizing Jiang Ruan’s filial impiety could be heard in the streets and alleys. This was because Xiao Shao had used special methods to silence the gossiping crowds—whether through iron-fisted measures or golden bribes, it all showed his protective nature, unwilling to let anyone speak a single bad word about Jiang Ruan.
“That’s good,” Jiang Ruan set down her brush. “I’ll visit the General’s Manor another day. Opening the ancestral hall is also a major matter.” Zhao Mei’s memorial tablet had always remained in the Jiang manor’s ancestral hall. When she first went to the estate and returned years later, Zhao Mei’s tablet had gone unattended, accumulating quite a bit of dust. Had she not personally cleaned it later, it might have rotted away in the ancestral hall. Now that the three of them—mother and two children—were no longer Jiang family members, this tablet should return to the General’s Manor. As Jiang Ruan spoke, she looked outside: “Why don’t I see Lu Zhu?”
These past few days, she had been handling Lu Zhu’s marriage arrangements. To her, Lu Zhu was someone trustworthy since her rebirth—rather than a maid, she was more like a supportive companion throughout. Though Lu Zhu had no parents, her marriage couldn’t be handled carelessly, lest she always feel inferior in the future. Though it couldn’t be a grand affair, it should be arranged according to the standards for a proper family’s young lady.
“Probably embroidering her trousseau in her room,” Lian Qiao smiled. “Young Madam treats Lu Zhu so well, even this servant feels a bit jealous.”
When other families’ personal maids married respectably, they typically just received more silver. It was rare to see such personal involvement and wholehearted effort. Moreover, Lu Zhu was marrying well—though Jin Er was somewhat mischievous, his heart wasn’t bad, and most rare was that the two were mutually affectionate. For a servant, marrying someone she loved was nearly impossible, yet now it was happening. Lian Qiao remembered when they were struggling to survive at the estate, thinking it was wishful thinking to hope for peaceful, smooth lives. Looking at their current good days, she felt deeply moved.
“When you and Ye Feng marry in the future, I’ll arrange it for you too,” Jiang Ruan smiled.
Lian Qiao stamped her foot: “Young Madam is teasing this servant again.” Though she was embarrassed and annoyed, seeing Jiang Ruan smile made her happy too. For some reason, she always felt Jiang Ruan had changed considerably lately. She couldn’t say exactly what had changed, just that when Jiang Ruan looked at people, she seemed gentler, not like before when she seemed to look through misty clouds, making people feel inexplicably uncertain. This was probably all Xiao Shao’s contribution, Lian Qiao thought, feeling some gratitude toward Xiao Shao.
“Go see if Lu Zhu is in her room,” Jiang Ruan said. “If she is, bring her here. She should review this gift list herself.”
Lian Qiao agreed and ran outside. Lu Zhu was indeed in her room, but not embroidering her trousseau—rather, she was embroidering a screen for Historian Lin’s wife. Madam Lin’s birthday was in a few days, and since Jiang Ruan was friendly with Lin Zixiang, she needed to send gifts. Historian Lin was an elegant man, so a pine and crane screen would be perfect. Though the screen looked simple, embroidering it was quite complex. Double-sided needlework happened to be Lu Zhu’s specialty skill, so she was working on it in her room, forgetting the time.
Lian Qiao pushed open the door and said: “How do you still have the mind for this? Young Madam is calling you to review the gift list.”
“Ah, I wanted to finish embroidering this crane’s beak early. There isn’t much time—if there’s anything wrong, I can still make changes.” Lu Zhu smiled: “What’s there to see in a gift list? Young Madam’s judgment couldn’t be wrong. I’m completely at ease.”
Lian Qiao laughed and scolded: “Talking nonsense—are you now giving orders to the mistress? Hurry over. I don’t know how you’re being a bride-to-be, not even worrying about your own trousseau matters. You’re becoming increasingly lazy.”
Lu Zhu knew she was in the wrong, so she put away her embroidery needle, stood up, shook out her skirt, and followed Lian Qiao. Jiang Ruan had just added a few items and handed over the list when she saw Lu Zhu arrive: “See if anything’s missing?”
Lu Zhu cheerfully took it and quickly scanned through. Her expression started smiling, then became somewhat astonished, and finally showed some alarm: “Young Madam, this… this is too precious.”
“What’s to worry about?” Jiang Ruan smiled: “It’s all coming from the prince’s manor anyway—your prince has plenty of money.”
Lian Qiao giggled—this sounded like Xiao Shao was some nouveau riche master. Lu Zhu’s eyes darted around. Though her expression relaxed somewhat, she was still uneasy: “But…” This gift list was truly too precious for a maid—even the longest-serving head maids of high officials and nobles might not have such honor. What moved her most was that it included not just gold and silver, but also dowry jewelry and miscellaneous items, all thoughtfully arranged—this showed real care.
“There’s no ‘but,'” Jiang Ruan interrupted. “You deserve it.”
Lu Zhu stopped talking and just bit her lip, slowly kneeling down. Lian Qiao and Jiang Ruan were startled as Lu Zhu solemnly kowtowed three times to Jiang Ruan: “Miss’s kindness to Lu Zhu is as heavy as mountains. Lu Zhu has no relatives—Miss, Miss is Lu Zhu’s family in her heart. Lu Zhu will serve Miss well for life, always staying by Miss’s side.”
Jiang Ruan laughed: “Get up. Don’t kneel at every turn. There’s no talk of kindness as heavy as mountains—you and I came through the hardest times together. You endured then, so now is your time to enjoy happiness. Besides, it’s nothing major. Your future days still depend on you living well.”
This referred to Jin Er. Lu Zhu seemed to think of something and smiled shyly too.
Meanwhile, Jin Er, whom Jiang Ruan and Lu Zhu were discussing, stood before a mansion in an alley in the eastern city. He knocked on the door several times, and soon a young servant opened it from inside. After saying a few words to Jin Er, he went inside to check. Upon reaching the courtyard, the house door opened and a short, plump middle-aged woman emerged. Seeing Jin Er, she first froze, then called out joyfully: “Second Young Master.”
Jin Er also smiled: “Nanny Zhou, why did you suddenly come to the capital?”
“This old servant came on Madam’s orders to have you meet someone,” Nanny Zhou also smiled. Another person emerged from behind the door—a young woman with beautiful features and outstanding grace. Her clothing style was from several years ago, and the colors had faded somewhat, but she still appeared quite well-bred. Looking at Jin Er, she smiled slightly: “Second Young Master.”
…
Wind quickly picked up that night, with cold gusts making the windows rattle. Jingyang Palace was completely silent except for occasional urgent coughing sounds, faint and unclear. Eunuch Li handed over a white silk handkerchief, worried: “The weather is cold with heavy dew. Your Majesty should rest early.”
“There are still many memorials,” the Emperor waved his hand. “If this continues, perhaps before finishing them all…”
“You mustn’t say such things,” Eunuch Li immediately knelt: “Your Majesty.”
“Enough,” the Emperor smiled first. “I haven’t said anything yet—why are you kneeling?” Perhaps illness had made his expression much more haggard. His previously naturally imposing demeanor had also softened, as if his former authority had receded overnight, showing signs of aging. Eunuch Li was immediately alarmed, feeling the Emperor’s appearance closely resembled the late Emperor during his final illness. Back then, he was still a young eunuch, and his adoptive father had accompanied the late Emperor to the grave. Now with the Emperor looking like this, could it be… Eunuch Li shivered, not daring to think further.
“You may withdraw. I want to be alone for a while,” the Emperor suddenly said.
Eunuch Li quickly complied and withdrew.
The empty great hall contained only a bright yellow figure sitting alone on the central soft seat. The Emperor’s hand rested on the armrest carved into a roaring dragon, with bared fangs and claws, its scales lifelike. Dragons have reverse scales—those who touch them die. He suddenly smiled again, then drew out a bright yellow silk scroll from a nearby desk—an imperial edict.
He thought for a moment, then began writing. The Emperor wrote very slowly, as if each stroke required great effort, yet there were no pauses, clearly showing the edict’s content had been contemplated countless times to write so steadily. After thinking briefly, he took another bright yellow silk scroll—another imperial edict. He paused, then slowly began writing again.
Candlelight flickered on the emperor’s face. That face, somewhat gray from illness, was now brightly illuminated by the flames, like the final radiance before death, making him appear spirited, momentarily seeming to return to younger years. Finally, this edict was also completed. He slowly raised his hand, took the imperial seal from beside him, first pressing it on one edict, then lifting it as if to catch his breath. His fingers unconsciously caressed the dragon head on the seal, his gaze momentarily becoming hazy as he hummed some unknown folk tune.
“In February when spring breezes rise, young brother goes to Shuiwan City, oh my, whose wife calls for Qiusheng, circling round wanting to enter home…” Such rustic rural opera suddenly echoing in this magnificent hall was quite jarring, yet the Emperor’s expression gradually relaxed. He slowly sang, looking at the empty hall before him, as if seeing through the void to that year’s charming young girl carrying a medicine box along country roads. As he sang, he suddenly coughed violently. The song stopped abruptly, and he stared at the bloodstains on the white silk.
After a moment, the emperor slowly closed his eyes and heavily pressed the imperial seal on the other edict: Thud—
…
When Jin Er returned to the manor, it was already dark. Upon entering the courtyard, he saw someone standing under a tree. That person also saw him and bounced over—it was Lu Zhu. Seeing him, Lu Zhu said: “I looked for you at noon but you weren’t there. Did you go on a mission?”
Jin Er paused, then unconsciously nodded: “Yes.”
“You didn’t go to the brothel to find that courtesan again, did you?” Lu Zhu asked deliberately.
Caught off guard by Lu Zhu’s question, Jin Er’s expression became somewhat awkward: “No…”
“Just joking,” Lu Zhu waved her hand. “Why so nervous? I’m not a tigress.”
This self-comparison to a tigress made Jin Er laugh too, and he patted her head: “You really are a tigress.” After pausing, he asked: “You came here specially to wait for me—what’s the matter?”
Seeing him smile, Lu Zhu didn’t bicker with him as usual, only saying: “You look different today, probably tired. Go wash up and rest first. I have nothing particular—just came to see you.” The words “I missed you” were swallowed by Lu Zhu. Lian Qiao and Jin San said women should be more reserved—if they revealed all their feelings, men would take them for granted in the future. Since she and Jin Er weren’t married yet, she couldn’t let him get too comfortable.
Jin Er smiled and didn’t tease her as usual, only telling Lu Zhu to rest well before leaving. Once Jin Er left, Lu Zhu’s smile faded, replaced by confusion. Standing there, Lu Zhu muttered to herself: “He seemed in low spirits. Could it be… the mission went badly?” Unable to figure it out, she turned and went back to her room.
…
Jiang Ruan set aside her book and casually placed her hand inside Xiao Shao’s robe. This man’s body wasn’t as cold as his exterior—he was truly a large warmer. Her hands were quite warm, and Xiao Shao was caught off guard by her cold hands, finding it somewhat amusing yet touching. But he couldn’t bear to make her remove them, only saying: “Why so cold?”
“Drawing up Lu Zhu’s marriage list,” Jiang Ruan pressed closer to him. “Marriage is so complicated. When we married, Steward Lin handled everything alone—he really worked hard.” Lu Zhu’s simple marriage was this complex; when she and Xiao Shao married, it was even more spectacular with countless elaborate arrangements. At the time it seemed nothing special, but doing it personally made it seem very difficult.
Xiao Shao looked at her, then suddenly said: “I was also involved.”
“What?” Jiang Ruan didn’t understand him. Xiao Shao said lightly: “Nothing,” but his expression was somewhat unnatural. Jiang Ruan thought about it and guessed: “Don’t tell me you also thought up many of those arrangements.”
Xiao Shao didn’t answer, which was tacit agreement. Jiang Ruan was surprised—this man seemed uninterested in marriage matters, yet he had privately inquired about these details? She naturally didn’t know that while Steward Lin indeed handled the general wedding affairs, all the detailed requirements were personally reviewed by Xiao Shao, who modeled it after the most elaborate weddings during the late Emperor’s reign. Otherwise, Steward Lin alone couldn’t have spent money so recklessly without saying a word.
Jiang Ruan laughed, and Xiao Shao felt somewhat annoyed, glancing at her: “You’re like marrying off a daughter—so serious.”
Since her rebirth, apart from revenge, Jiang Ruan had never properly handled such an affair. For her, this was also a first time. Xiao Shao’s words seemed somewhat jealous. These past days, she’d been busy asking Steward Lin about Lu Zhu’s matters, indeed neglecting him. Thinking of this, Jiang Ruan reached out to pinch Xiao Shao’s cheek: “If I had a daughter, I’d be even more serious than this. Never mind me—I think you’d be more nervous than I am.”
“A daughter?” Xiao Shao looked at her thoughtfully. His gaze was deep as stars, and under his dark eyes, Jiang Ruan felt her whole body tingling: “What are you doing?”
As soon as she spoke, she felt the world spinning, and she and Xiao Shao were suddenly in an above-below position. Xiao Shao looked at her and said lightly: “Indeed, but first we need to have a daughter.”
…
At Eighth Prince’s manor, advisors looked at Xuan Li drinking and enjoying himself, feeling somewhat puzzled. It had been a long time since they’d seen Xuan Li so happy. Though Xuan Li habitually maintained a smiling facade year-round, those around him knew it was just appearance. Such genuine satisfaction from the heart hadn’t been seen on their master’s face for a very long time.
An advisor carefully asked: “Your Highness seems so pleased—did you agree on a great plan with that Yuan Chuan?”
That Tian Jin nation envoy acted mysteriously. Though called an envoy, his manner showed no subservience, even naturally displaying superiority. The advisor, having followed Xuan Li and seen many people in his lifetime, immediately recognized Yuan Chuan as someone difficult to control. Allying with such a person was extremely dangerous—one misstep could cost everything. Moreover, Yuan Chuan sought neither fame nor profit, making him even more alarming. The two were undoubtedly using each other—Xuan Li used Yuan Chuan to seize power, but what did Yuan Chuan want from Xuan Li?
The advisor couldn’t see through it and could only seek clarification from Xuan Li.
“No, no need to agree on any grand plan,” Xuan Li slowly raised his wine cup for a sip, smiling. “There are no allies, only a blade I can use. And it’s a good blade.”
“This…” the advisor immediately understood something, asking in surprise: “How does Your Highness wield this blade?”
“The blade’s wielder isn’t you or me,” Xuan Li said. “But the tree this blade cuts also blocks my path.”
This was planning to reap the fisherman’s profit. Though the advisor was still confused, seeing Xuan Li’s manner, he wouldn’t explain further. This Eighth Prince, though having countless retainers and advisors, had his own unique ideas about many matters, even not fully trusting them. He always kept some reserve—such people were rare in the world, able to maintain an eternally vigilant heart unmoved by external things. This was an emperor’s quality.
“Does Your Highness think this will succeed?” the advisor asked. “That Yuan Chuan seems to have done nothing from beginning to end, relying only on words—how can Your Highness be certain?”
“I said it’s a good blade,” Xuan Li smiled as he drained his wine. “I hope it serves its purpose well.”
Just then, a guard-dressed person hurried in from outside, producing a letter: “Your Highness, a secret message from the palace.”
Xuan Li took it and glanced casually—only two simple words: “Success.”
Xuan Li smiled again, but this smile appeared different to the advisor—compared to his previous pleasure, it carried more ruthlessness. That expression quickly vanished completely, as if it had never existed on Xuan Li’s face. He sighed deeply, saying quietly: “His Majesty is gravely ill.”
…
That night, in a certain mansion in the capital, a young woman stood under a tree looking rather sorrowful. A short, plump woman beside her advised: “Miss should rest early—it’s windy here. Miss’s health isn’t good to begin with; you must recuperate here properly.”
The woman smiled bitterly, her voice quite desolate: “Nanny, my heart aches.”
“Miss mustn’t overthink,” the woman said. “Second Young Master will surely understand. You are proper—Second Young Master is a child this old servant watched grow up with a good heart. Since he came today, he won’t shirk responsibility. Second Young Master will find you a physician, and given time, he’ll naturally see Miss’s heart. Miss should be at ease—there are also Master and Madam who will surely support you.”
“But he already said…” the woman shook her head. “How am I different from a villain who breaks up others?”
“How could you be a villain?” Nanny Zhou comforted. “Miss is a proper family’s daughter and an old acquaintance. This matter surely won’t go wrong. If it truly wouldn’t work, why would Master and Madam agree to let you come to the capital? Since that princess is a reasonable person, she surely understands propriety and won’t make things difficult for Miss. As for Second Young Master, this old servant speaks presumptuously—Miss is beautiful with a good heart and from a proper family. How could you be inferior to a mere maid? Second Young Master will surely like you. Men naturally prefer well-bred daughters. So Miss can set her heart at ease and focus on resting to avoid harming your health.”
Hearing Nanny Zhou’s words, the woman’s expression relaxed somewhat as she smiled: “I was overthinking. Well, this is fate. Since I’ve come, I’ll just ask his opinion. Having met him, and with my poor health, I’ll rest here first. When I’m better, I’ll return.”
Nanny Zhou wanted to say more but seeing the woman’s expression, she held back and could only nod in agreement.