Zhang Yuan hanged himself in prison, and with that the Yangzhou corruption case could no longer be investigated further, coming to a close. Who knew how many people in the capital with their necks stretched out breathed a sigh of relief, feeling their precarious heads had finally been secured back in place.
Although a Prince Duan had died, Emperor Jianzhang had only given him a burial according to regional prince protocols without any other gestures. Now that Zhang Yuan was also dead, the thresholds of the Merit Assessment Bureau and Personnel Selection Bureau were nearly trampled through—the positions vacated in Yangzhou were all lucratively profitable. Everyone was eager to rush over there.
The Earl of Changning’s residence also became unprecedentedly lively, but Song Chengru, having grown wily with age, had long since “fallen ill and taken to bed.” Those piles of visiting cards stacked up at the gatehouse couldn’t even make it into Song Chengru’s study.
A tall tree in the forest will surely be destroyed by the wind. Having served as chief judge of the Yangzhou corruption case, he had already garnered more than enough attention. To participate further in the appointment of Yangzhou officials would appear very inappropriate—although he was now Minister of Personnel, the Ministry of Personnel had vice ministers besides him, and above them were the Cabinet and Emperor Jianzhang. These people would produce a list of candidates. If he interfered further, wouldn’t he be openly slapping his own face? After all, when he initially stepped forward to accept the position of chief judge, it was to tell the Emperor he wasn’t taking sides. Since he wasn’t taking sides, naturally he shouldn’t touch this hot potato of Yangzhou—otherwise it would be difficult being caught between Prince Gong and the Crown Prince.
Prince Gong’s people had been completely uprooted. Naturally he couldn’t be content to give up this fat piece of meat that was Yangzhou’s maritime salt trade. Meanwhile, the Crown Prince, having finally pulled up the radish and brought out the mud with it, certainly wouldn’t be willing to give up this position to others. Elder Du and Elder Chen would probably be at each other’s throats.
When going through his connections proved futile, many people turned to other ideas, such as Song Ren, Song Jue and others. But these people were all slippery as eels, as if they all shared the same mouth. Even if they were pulled to banquet tables, they could play dumb and pretend ignorance. Even Second Master Song, who truly was a bit lacking in some respects, could distinguish clearly in such important matters, disappearing completely from the bookshops and teahouses he usually frequented.
Even the Song family’s servants all kept their lips sealed tight. If you asked whether Old Master Song had taken his medicine or when he would recover, you couldn’t get any answers.
Only at this point did everyone have to admit to the strict discipline of the Earl of Changning’s residence. They all gave up hope. Compared to the constant stream of visitors at the other Elders’ residences, the Earl of Changning’s residence could literally be described as having so few visitors that birds could nest at the gate.
But there were also others who tried different approaches. For instance, the newly married Fourth Miss Song was soon to return home for her Return Visit and the mid-autumn moon viewing, wasn’t she? Those rushing forward to send invitations for her to attend banquets came in wave after wave. This was the first time since leaving the estate that she had been fawned over like the moon surrounded by stars. She felt she had gained even more face before her husband and mother-in-law.
Scholar Feng saw this clearly, and Madam Feng was not someone who curried favor with the powerful or coveted wealth. Both tried to persuade her to restrain herself and not bother with these rear courtyard women who obviously had ulterior motives.
But Song Chumi wouldn’t listen. She felt that the Earl of Changning’s residence had wronged her by marrying her beneath her station, so giving her some face and backing her up was only right—not to mention she hadn’t even held a proper return visit banquet.
Upon returning home, she went straight to find Old Madam Song without consulting Third Madam, pouring out everything others had entrusted to her. Finally, with a casual tone, she laughed lightly. “I thought this wasn’t anything major, so I wanted to ask Grandmother to give me this face.”
Xiang Mingzi looked at her with disbelief. Seeing her radiant and complacent, she couldn’t help but feel some contempt—the other Song family sisters were all excellent. Third Sister and Second Sister need not be mentioned. Although Song Chubin was somewhat weak, she still had a brain. Even Song Chuyou, who was the same age as Song Chuyi, understood what should and shouldn’t be said. Against the backdrop of these people, Song Chumi appeared particularly foolish.
Old Madam Song showed nothing on her face. She had already given up on her when Song Chumi had dealings with the Zhang family and easily trusted Old Madam Yun. Later, it was only out of pity for Third Madam and a trace of compassion in her heart that she helped find her a marriage and sent her off. Now even this trace of compassion had been worn away. Just as she had told Third Madam before, if Song Chumi dragged down the Song family, she truly would have no face to meet the Song family ancestors underground even in death.
She smiled and nodded, neither agreeing nor showing opposition, instructing her to go see Third Madam. “Your mother is probably thinking of you. Go there first.”
After she left, Old Madam Song immediately instructed Nanny Huang and Nanny Qin to take things and make a trip to the Feng residence—the Feng family had no property in the capital and currently resided in a small independent courtyard on Qingshui Lane, which was part of Third Madam’s dowry.
She was having Nanny Huang and Nanny Qin test the Feng family’s intentions—if the Feng family had accepted others’ gifts and instigated Song Chumi to come, then in the future, this marriage connection could be treated as non-existent.
When the news reached Song Chuyi’s ears, she was reading a letter with focused concentration. Xiang Mingzi drank some tea and, seeing she was still reading, came over to tickle her. “Are you even listening to me?”
Song Chuyi couldn’t withstand her tickling and laughingly handed the letter to Qing Ying, brushing the stray hair by her ear back behind it, laughing as she begged for mercy. “I heard, I heard. You’re usually not one to meddle in things. Just pretend you didn’t hear about this matter.”
The Feng family wasn’t such a muddled household. This time it was mostly that they hadn’t yet figured out Song Chumi’s true nature, so they couldn’t control her, which was why they let her act recklessly. Once Old Madam Song sent people over, they would understand how to proceed in the future.
Madam Feng would probably immediately pack up and take Song Chumi back to their hometown. Even Third Madam wouldn’t object—with Song Chumi’s brain, keeping her in the capital, who knew what trouble she would cause? It would be much better for her to return home peacefully to be a scholar’s wife, waiting for Scholar Feng to take the imperial examinations, while learning proper conduct and social graces from Madam Feng. This was far better than staying mindlessly in the capital. With her kind of brain, who knew when she might even lose her life?
These matters were for Old Madam Song and First Madam to worry about. Song Chumi couldn’t stir up any significant waves anyway. What she needed to care about right now was only the letter in her hand.
Xiang Mingzi noticed her distraction regarding this matter, so she didn’t discuss it further with her—Song Chuyi was right. These matters shouldn’t be managed by her, someone with the surname Xiang, otherwise she would inevitably offend Third Madam.
She hugged Song Chuyi’s arm, intimately resting her head on Song Chuyi’s shoulder, asking with a smile, “What were you reading just now that had you so engrossed?”
Song Chuyi smiled with her eyes curved into crescents, clearly very happy. “I was looking at a turning point.”