The crystal palace lamps of Guanghua Palace swayed in the night wind, casting long, faint shadows in the snow.
In the warm chamber, the young emperor, dressed in splendid robes, reclined on the bed, attended by eunuchs who served him sobering soup.
“Is the Deputy Commander in a hurry to leave?” The emperor set down his teacup, his gaze coolly resting on An Jiu.
Just as the grand banquet had ended, he had seen her walking out hurriedly. The emperor had long since investigated that the Mei clan had all moved beyond the border, and there was not a single family member left in Bianjing.
An Jiu lowered her eyelids. “This subject is not accustomed to such occasions.”
“Years ago, I had met the Commander’s husband,” the emperor said, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on her.
An Jiu was not skilled at lying, but she could maintain a completely emotionless facade. She didn’t intend to waste time beating around the bush. “Your Majesty dares to use me, which shows you are an enlightened ruler with resolve. When the Great Song was in turmoil, you had such determination. Why have you become more timid now that things have settled? You can rest assured, that not everyone covets the position beneath your bottom.”
“How dare you!” The eunuch beside the emperor shrieked in rebuke.
The emperor, however, laughed. “You speak the truth. But I can’t help but wonder, why would a woman like you willingly become a puppet for me in office?”
“I was a puppet before, too. I just didn’t like staying in the darkness and wanted to bask in the sun,” An Jiu raised her eyes, meeting the emperor’s gaze directly.
The intense gaze was like the edge of a blade, making one’s entire body tense.
If she wanted to kill him at this moment, it would be effortless.
The emperor suddenly relaxed. “You may go.”
An Jiu bowed and retreated from the warm chamber.
In this short time, the emperor had repeatedly tested An Jiu many times. Perhaps, as An Jiu said, when the empire was in turmoil, he could risk everything, but once things settled, he began to worry constantly about others usurping his position. No emperor doesn’t want to tightly grasp the world’s highest seat.
An Jiu’s figure disappeared into the snow. In an instant, she was outside the palace gates, leaving her tail far behind, and headed straight for Ju Bao Zhai.
Inside the hall, a pot was already set up, steam rising. Sheng Changying and Mei Yanran were bustling about.
Mo Sigui leaned on a round-backed chair, looking half-dead. Little Yue lay at his feet, while Da Jiu squatted by the table, staring intently at the meat on the plate. Lou Xiaowu was using a rattle drum to amuse the chubby baby in Zhu Pianpian’s arms.
Chu Dingjiang was the first to see An Jiu and came over to hold her hand.
“My lady is back!” Sui Yunzhu led Tiger Girl to greet her.
Mo Sigui lifted his eyelids slightly and grunted twice.
“Ah Jiu!” Lou Xiaowu stuffed the rattle drum into Zhu Pianpian’s hand and darted over to hug An Jiu’s arm. “Why are you back so late? Did the emperor assign you to a border post?”
“Not yet,” An Jiu replied.
Lou Xiaowu puffed out her cheeks and glanced timidly at Chu Dingjiang. “Brother-in-law said the emperor would send you to the border…”
Chu Dingjiang usually didn’t care much for conversation, but Lou Xiaowu’s “brother-in-law” pleased him greatly. “Just wait patiently. It’ll be three to five months at the earliest, a year at the most.”
“Ah, a year!” Lou Xiaowu exclaimed. “Then I won’t count on you.”
It would take about a year for all of Lou Xiaowu’s injuries to heal completely, and she couldn’t leave Mo Sigui’s care before then. If An Jiu were assigned to a border post, Mo Sigui would certainly follow… Then she could see Ling Ziyue earlier.
By then, Chu Dingjiang wouldn’t need to hide so deliberately as he did now.
“What’s the rush? Don’t worry, I think General Ling will give in to you sooner or later!” Zhu Pianpian laughed.
“How can I not be in a hurry? I’m very anxious!” Lou Xiaowu showed not a hint of shyness, sighing wistfully, “He’s already so old, every year apart is one year less!”
Mo Sigui stirred, slowly sitting up. He rubbed his slightly disheveled hair, yawning as he staggered out.
“Where are you going, Divine Physician?” Sui Yunzhu asked.
“Tired. Sleep,” Mo Sigui said.
“Why don’t you eat before sleeping?” Sui Yunzhu suggested.
Mo Sigui didn’t answer, swaying as he left.
“I’ll go check on him,” An Jiu followed.
Since Lou Mingyue’s death, his insomnia had cured itself. Whether due to his state of mind or the excessive use of sleep-inducing drug smoke before, he now slept at least seven or eight hours a day. Usually, he seemed able to fall asleep anywhere at any time when not working with medicines. He had also become increasingly reclusive, especially disliking lively occasions.
The courtyard was brightly lit, and the crisp air in the snowy yard cleared one’s mind. Mo Sigui quickened his pace.
Because the clearer his mind, the more painful it became.
An Jiu silently followed him to his room filled with medicinal herbs before speaking, “Mo Sigui.”
“Why did you follow me?” Mo Sigui waved his hand. “Go eat.”
“Why don’t you move to the valley?” An Jiu said.
Mo Sigui had brought back Lou Mingyue’s ashes and buried them in a beautiful mountain valley. An Jiu had bought the valley to prevent passersby from disturbing its tranquility.
An Jiu had originally thought keeping him here would prevent him from being lonely, but these lively days only emphasized his solitude. Mo Sigui used to be such a carefree person, but now even a joke from Lou Xiaowu could trigger his heartache. An Jiu finally understood that keeping him here was an extremely cruel thing to do.
Mo Sigui’s phoenix eyes lifted slightly as he said irritably, “My legs are my own. Mind your own business! Go, go, don’t disturb my sleep.”
Bang!
The door closed.
An Jiu stood there for a moment but ultimately didn’t force him.
An Jiu returned to the hall where steam rose, but the atmosphere was a bit heavy.
“Did I say something to upset him?” Lou Xiaowu asked.
“He’s just being neurotic, don’t mind him,” An Jiu sat down at the table. “Let’s eat, I’m starving.”
Everyone took their seats. Zhu Pianpian sat next to An Jiu and, seeing the mood wasn’t great and An Jiu was just rapidly shoveling food into her mouth while others hesitated to start, she became annoyed. She tapped the table with her chopsticks, “Stop eating for a moment!”
An Jiu paused, her cheeks bulging as she chewed, and turned to frown at her.
“I’ve been working my ass off to make money and you spendthrifts! Tell me, where did the 150,000 taels of gold go?” Zhu Pianpian asked, heartbroken.
She had thought she was particularly good at making money, but it turned out her two bosses were spending it much faster than she could earn it!
An Jiu mumbled, “I only spent 50,000 taels of gold to buy Mo Sigui a few mountains. My husband took 100,000 taels last time to buy information.”
Just like that, she sold out Chu Dingjiang…
“Ahem.” Chu Dingjiang cleared his throat. “The person who took the money for the promissory notes won’t live past this year. This sum of money will be pinned on a dead man’s head. If anyone brings the notes to exchange for money, they’ll be sent straight to the government office. We’ll just need to adjust the accounts a bit.”
“You’re indeed a cunning old fox,” Zhu Pianpian nodded with satisfaction. “At least you have some conscience. This is all hard-earned money!”
Chu Dingjiang said, “Don’t use the word ‘old’ in front of me again.”
Everyone burst into laughter.
The atmosphere in the room finally eased a bit, while a corner of the courtyard seemed frozen by ice and snow as if it would never thaw. Mo Sigui had already fallen into a dream, where her image was as clear as yesterday.