The Tan residence.
Hu Shanwei didn’t yet know that Mu Chun had been exposed by their daughter, that both husband and wife had their covers blown. She was currently smiling like an aunt watching the Tan family’s two sons, Tan Jing and Tan Gang.
The two sons’ names were quite domineering, combining to form the word “vajra.” Both were refined and handsome. The eldest, Tan Jing, was already a scholar, and the second son was also good at studies—he would certainly pass the scholar examination, but he was determined to win first place, so he hadn’t taken the imperial examinations yet.
The two brothers were very interested in the ship clock that turned circles in water. Every even hour, they would rub their hands like flies watching the ship clock sail. Even the seemingly steady Tan Jing showed childlike enthusiasm.
“You two go play downstairs,” Imperial Physician Ru commanded.
The brothers thanked Hu Shanwei and retreated, treasuring the ship clock like a precious item.
Hu Shanwei observed the two younger generation members. “Your two sons really grew up well. Tianzhang (Tan Jing’s courtesy name) resembles Imperial Physician Tan in appearance and temperament, while Xianzhang (Tan Gang’s courtesy name) resembles you.”
Imperial Physician Ru nodded. “This is fate. When I was a female physician in the palace, I never imagined I would marry and have children. My only regret now is that neither son is interested in medicine—they only know how to study. In the future, Imperial Physician Tan’s and my medical skills might not be passed down to the next generation.”
Hu Shanwei said, “Who says it must be passed to sons? Has your Tianzhang discussed marriage yet? If sons won’t do, there are grandsons. Descendants are endless.”
Imperial Physician Ru’s eyes lit up. “That makes sense. I’ll discuss with Imperial Physician Tan later. Now that Tianzhang has scholar credentials and something to show for himself, we can arrange a marriage for him.”
Reuniting with an old friend, Hu Shanwei felt light as a swallow, free of all mental burdens, relaxed and comfortable. She and Imperial Physician Ru lazily lay on the arhat bed, chatting about their old friends’ current situations. “Shen Qionglian relocated her ancestor Shen Xiu’s grave and built some underwater tomb, spending money like water. She also fiddled with Kunqu opera from her hometown Kunshan, maintaining opera troupes. Now she’s replaced me in the rear palace, otherwise the Shen family would have been bankrupted. In Yangzhou, Palace Supervisor Cao and Court Supervisor Cui are guarding Palace Supervisor Fan’s mausoleum. Their spirits and health have been excellent—at their age, their teeth haven’t fallen out and their eyes aren’t dim. They could probably live to a hundred.”
“Palace Supervisor Cao wrote to me saying the two of them will live well, continuing Palace Supervisor Fan’s unfinished life. They must live long enough to make it worthwhile.”
Palace Supervisor Fan died too miserably. Hu Shanwei entered the palace to avenge her, otherwise she’d still be secluded in Kunming’s outskirts.
Mentioning Palace Supervisor Fan, Imperial Physician Ru was also deeply moved. “Such a cautious person—who would have thought she’d be the first to go? Meanwhile, Palace Supervisor Cao, that firecracker, grows younger with age. Truly, worldly affairs are unpredictable.”
After a pause, she looked at Hu Shanwei. “Even you are the same. When you first entered the palace before taking duties, Embroidered Uniform Guard foot soldier Ji Gang framed you with peach blossom powder, trying to drive you from the court. None of the six palace bureaus dared take you. It was Palace Supervisor Fan who protected you and arranged for you to work in the archives as a librarian. I thought it would be the most peaceful position, but you had to confront Noble Consort Hu head-on, causing palace-wide storms. I thought someone like you who constantly stirred up trouble couldn’t last three years in the palace. I never expected you to work for over thirty years and become a three-reign Palace Supervisor. It’s all about timing and luck—where can you argue with fate?”
Hu Shanwei lay beside Imperial Physician Ru, so comfortable her bones felt soft. “I know many people envy me, but I’m truly tired. Actually, serving one reign versus three reigns makes no difference. Nothing new ever happens in the rear palace.”
“What happens in the palace is almost identical every reign—fame and profit, like sugar water spilled on the ground. People are like ants, instinctively crawling busily along the sugar trails. No matter how I advise them, even if I talk until my lips are worn out, it’s useless. Though I seem to manage the rear palace, I’m actually just an observer. I really can’t change anything. I only hope the court relocates the capital soon, so I can return to Kunming, far from the fame and fortune arena, living as neighbors with you, spending my remaining years in carefree leisure.”
Hu Shanwei was quite disappointed about Noble Consort Zhang’s confinement. She had done everything she should and said everything she could, yet Noble Consort Zhang still flew toward the flame like a moth, stubbornly persisting.
Noble Consort Sun, Noble Consort Li, Noble Consort Guo, and now Noble Consort Zhang… Were noble consorts truly cursed? Everyone seemed trapped in this vicious cycle with no survivors.
Imperial Physician Ru said, “You still can’t let go, otherwise you wouldn’t be pouring out your troubles here.”
Hu Shanwei said, “Sigh, let’s not talk about it. What I’m most concerned about now is Mu Chun’s health. Tell me honestly—once the splints are removed from his left hand, can it fully recover?”
“He’s nearly fifty years old.” Imperial Physician Ru tapped the bed board. “He’s not a teenager or twenty-something young man who can bounce around after injuries to muscles and bones. Your Mu Chun surviving is already a miracle. His right hand will be fine for daily activities, but he shouldn’t lift heavy objects or do heavy work. If it breaks again, we probably couldn’t reattach it—we’d have to amputate.”
Just hearing this made Hu Shanwei feel pain. She gasped, “I see, no wonder he’s always practicing with his left hand.”
“His right arm must be well cared for. I warned him long ago, yet you know nothing about it. Seems he’s deliberately hiding it from you, not wanting you to worry.” Imperial Physician Ru was quite envious. “In his lifetime, he gave half to Yunnan and half to you.”
Hu Shanwei asked in detail, “How heavy are heavy objects? Does moving chairs or tables count in daily life?”
Imperial Physician Ru laughed, “It’s not that serious—those are fine. As for heavy objects…”
Imperial Physician Ru poked Hu Shanwei’s waist. “For example, he can’t hold you anymore.”
At their age, Hu Shanwei blushed and pinched back, “You’re about to become a grandmother, yet still so frivolous.”
The two women laughed and rolled on the arhat bed, stealing half a day of leisure from their floating lives.
Hu Shanwei was concerned about Mu Chun’s health and didn’t stay for dinner at the Tan residence. She bid farewell at sunset, never imagining that when she left she was still “sister,” but upon returning she had become “mother.”
“Mother.”
As soon as Hu Shanwei entered, A’Lei threw herself into her arms, acting spoiled just like when she was little.
Hu Shanwei’s expression wasn’t like being hugged by Lei, but like being struck by lightning.
Mu Chun felt guilty and smiled sheepishly, “A’Lei already guessed her origins. She’s truly our biological daughter—too clever.”
Hu Shanwei could tell at a glance that Mu Chun’s mouth hadn’t held firm and A’Lei had pried it open.
Seeing Hu Shanwei’s expression, Mu Chun knew trouble was brewing. His survival instinct made him decide to act pitiful for forgiveness.
Mu Chun deliberately turned sideways, placing his immobile right hand in front as a shield. “A’Lei cried so pitifully. I revealed the truth. Besides, she’s grown now—no need to worry about her keeping secrets or letting things slip.”
As an old married couple, Mu Chun knew Hu Shanwei’s weaknesses.
Seeing Mu Chun’s right hand, Hu Shanwei remembered Imperial Physician Ru’s warning about “not lifting heavy objects.” Her anger immediately dissipated. Forget it—spilled water can’t be gathered up.
A’Lei swore earnestly, “Sister and brother-in-law, from now on whether outside or at home, I’ll still call you ‘sister and brother-in-law.’ I won’t change how I address you to avoid accidentally revealing anything. It’s enough that I know in my heart. You must trust me—I’ll definitely keep this secret.”
Just like that, the family of three recognized each other. Summer quietly passed, leaving behind small secrets. By autumn, Imperial Physician Ru and Imperial Physician Tan came to remove the splints supporting his right arm. The broken bones had finally healed, liberating his right hand. Mu Chun spread his arms wide, embracing his wife and daughter, reluctant to let go.
Though he appeared carefree on the surface, internally he was quite anxious, fearing his right hand might fail to heal properly and leave him permanently disabled. Having been victorious in battle nearly his entire military career, how tragic it would be if he couldn’t even manage basic self-care in his later years.
Now able to embrace his wife and daughter again, Mu Chun felt grateful. Heaven ultimately showed him mercy. Having grown up with an unloving father and uncaring uncles, he had almost despaired. Turns out Heaven arranged the sweetness for later—the early hardships were deliberate tests. However bitter the first half of life, the second half would be equally sweet.
Imperial Physician Ru produced a wide leather belt as long as Mu Chun’s palm. “You’re missing two ribs, so your internal organs will shift. Except when sleeping, you must always wear this wide belt to help support your organs so they don’t move around.”
Hu Shanwei thanked her and took the wide belt, fastening it on Mu Chun. Successfully slimmed down and missing a pair of ribs, Mu Chun’s waist was even more slender, like a developing youth, no longer showing middle-aged flabbiness.
Seeing this, A’Lei couldn’t help saying, “Brother-in-law’s waist looks just like Little Chick Brother’s.”
Thousands of li away in Beijing, Crown Prince Grandson Zhu Zhanji sneezed three times in succession.
Hu Shanwei and Mu Chun exchanged meaningful glances. After seeing off the Tan couple, they began a three-person tribunal questioning A’Lei.
Hu Shanwei: “Why mention the Crown Prince Grandson out of nowhere?”
A’Lei’s innocent expression: “His waist is just very thin. Brother-in-law’s current slim, long appearance is the same as Little Chick Brother’s.”
Mu Chun: “How is your… relationship with the Crown Prince Grandson?”
A’Lei thought for a moment. “Little Chick Brother is deep-minded and never says what he means. Sister and brother-in-law both know he’s been like this since childhood—born to be imperial family. Since becoming Crown Prince Grandson, this habit of not saying what he means has gotten worse. He speaks in roundabout ways, and I’m impatient with riddles, so we often part unhappily.”
A hardcore science and engineering woman and a cunning political animal existed in different dimensions and could hardly communicate.
Hearing this, Hu Shanwei and Mu Chun exchanged glances again: Now we can relax!
A’Lei continued, “However, before His Majesty’s second personal expedition last year, before taking him to Beijing, he apologized to me and we made up. We never had any deep grudges anyway, having grown up together. Before he left for Beijing, I even asked him to bring along a pocket watch that Princess Zhao asked me to repair.”
A’Lei had natural talent for dials and instruments, being self-taught.
Hu Shanwei and Mu Chun exchanged glances yet again: Our daughter is grown—we must build stronger fences in the future to prevent her from being carried off.
As weather turned cool and Mu Chun’s wounds healed, though he still needed rest, the family of three moved out of the Mu residence and returned to their old home in Kunming’s outskirts—where A’Lei was born, with an acre of chrysanthemums blooming beautifully.
Retired Captain Shi had always had people maintain and repair it, so the residence was ready to welcome its owners back anytime.
They returned to the reclusive life of “picking chrysanthemums by the eastern fence, leisurely seeing southern mountains,” dwelling outside the world, without worldly strife.
Hu Shanwei accompanied Mu Chun on walks and in quiet recuperation to restore his vitality. While reading about Zhuge Liang’s seven captures of Meng Huo in “Records of the Three Kingdoms” and his creation of wooden oxen and flowing horses, A’Lei gained inspiration. She thought these miraculous devices that could move without animal or human power were just like clock movements.
If she used clock wheel-and-axle lever rotation principles to create bronze oxen and iron horses, could she recreate the divine artifacts from novels?
Since she could make ship clocks that automatically sailed at set times, she could make iron horses that ran by themselves on schedule!
A’Lei acted immediately, starting from drawing blueprints. She hired several blacksmiths, dismantled several clocks, and had the smiths hammer, cast, and polish components to create high-quality replicas.
The family of three enjoyed an extended vacation, somewhat reluctant to return. Monthly court gazettes were their only source of information about court affairs.
For example, August’s issue reported that Emperor Yongle’s northern expedition decided the battle with Oirat at Ulaanbaatar, using the latest Frankish cannons developed by the gunpowder factory to bombard enemy cavalry. Artillery fire forcibly tore several gaps in the Oirat cavalry formation. After severely damaging their morale, Emperor Yongle personally led Ming forces in divided attacks against Oirat troops. The entire Oirat army retreated and sent envoys seeking peace.
After reading the gazette, Mu Chun sighed, “After this great victory, Oirat’s vitality is severely damaged. They won’t be able to raid the borders for at least five years. To ensure successful capital relocation, His Majesty truly invested everything. With such determination, how could capital relocation fail?”
Hu Shanwei was also overjoyed. “Let’s move quickly! After the capital relocates, my mission will be complete, and we won’t have to follow to Beijing. I hear winters there have much wind and sand—when it’s severe, people must cover their mouths and noses with cloth when going out. I still prefer Kunming, where every inch of air is sweet.”
Mu Chun acted spoiled. “What about me?”
“You’re sweeter than grapes.” Hu Shanwei kissed his lean chin.
With a smack, the gazette fell to the ground. The two were quite busy and had no hands free to pick it up.
The family of three lived like immortals. One winter night, Duke Qianguo Mu Sheng arrived with a secret letter in the middle of the night.
Mu Sheng said, “An urgent message requiring eight-hundred-li express delivery. Palace Supervisor Hu must return to the palace immediately without delay.”
Hu Shanwei’s heart sank, knowing something major must have happened in the palace. She instinctively thought of the stubborn Noble Consort Zhang.
Sigh, could she really not escape the noble consort curse?
Hu Shanwei quickly took the secret letter and unfolded it. The trouble wasn’t Noble Consort Zhang—this secret letter was written in Noble Consort Zhang’s own hand and sealed with the noble consort’s great seal: “Noble Consort Quan died suddenly. Return immediately.”
It was actually the gentle, soft-natured Noble Consort Quan!
Noble Consort Quan was a good person who offended no one. What enemy could she have that would cause her “sudden death”?
Anything with “sudden” in it meant dying horribly, not getting a good death.
Involving palace secrets, Noble Consort Zhang provided no details in the letter. Hu Shanwei had to set off that very night with her family, rushing toward the capital.
Traveling day and night, half a month later, Hu Shanwei returned to the palace amid heavy snowfall.
Acting Palace Supervisor Shen Qionglian led the way. Hu Shanwei asked, “Who killed Noble Consort Quan? Why?”
“Palace Supervisor Hu, come with me to a place and you’ll understand.” Shen Qionglian brought Hu Shanwei to the Eastern and Western Five Residences of Qianqing Palace.
It was completely quiet here, with only the sound of falling snow. Hu Shanwei found it strange. “Didn’t thirty-seven Korean concubines live here last year? Where did they move?”
Hu Shanwei looked at the knee-deep accumulated snow before her—no one had cleared the paths. The deathly silence clearly showed no one lived here anymore.
“Dead, all dead.” Shen Qionglian said. “Thirty-seven concubines, along with their attending palace maids and eunuchs—nearly a thousand people in total—all executed.”