In Nanchang, Jiangxi, Wang Qianhu received another family letter sent by express courier through Commander Mu’s abuse of power. The wedding date was set for the twenty-seventh of the twelfth lunar month.
Wang Qianhu immediately wrote back, saying Wang Daxia was rash and impetuous, and he wasn’t at ease, so he entrusted the household management to Commander Mu. The household accounts were at his disposal, and he must make sure the wedding was held in a lively and respectable manner.
After writing the family letter, he wrote a secret message to his superior, Grand Commander Zhu Xizhong of the Five Military Commissions. He reported that after the Yan father and son returned to their native place, Yan Song had been extensively networking with local officials, frequently hosting literary gatherings to win over local scholars.
Yan Shifan was massively expanding his residence, using very little money to force neighbors to relocate. Now, two years later, the Yan family’s grand mansion in Jiangxi was as luxurious as the confiscated Yan residence in the capital.
Wang Qianhu believed that before the house raid, the Yan family had transferred most of their wealth to their Jiangxi hometown. The court’s confiscation of the Yan family’s property was probably only one-third of their actual family fortune.
This didn’t even include the five thousand taels of gold that had already been confiscated in Xinghua City.
In short, the Yan father and son were very dishonest in Jiangxi, constantly making small moves.
Halfway through writing the secret letter, a subordinate reported that Yan Shifan requested an audience with the Prefect.
Three years ago, Yan Shifan could remove Wang Qianhu from office with just a finger movement, manipulating the capital evaluation. Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river. Yan Shifan was stripped of office and returned to civilian status, while Wang Qianhu became a third-rank Prefect.
Not knowing what scheme Yan Shifan was plotting this time, Wang Qianhu said, “Let him in. Serve good tea.”
House raids, removal from office, and being sent back to his native place hadn’t defeated Yan Shifan, but his son-in-law the Duke of Yan Sheng’s betrayal – abandoning his wife and child and driving his eldest daughter to death – had taken its toll. White-haired sending off black-haired, Yan Shifan had lost much weight over these three years. However, he had a solid foundation, going from enormously fat to just very fat. His weak left eye had gone completely blind, so he simply wore a black eye patch. His remaining eye had some presbyopia, so when looking at people or things, he always squinted and pulled his neck back.
Wang Qianhu politely invited Yan Shifan to sit down. Having been an official for many years, he knew some rules – namely, don’t tear off the mask until you’ve completely crushed your opponent.
In his three years in Jiangxi, Yan Shifan would send Wang Qianhu a gift on every major holiday, and Wang Qianhu would reciprocate, pretending they’d both forgotten their conflicts in the capital.
This time Yan Shifan was also here to give gifts. “I heard that Master Wang’s eldest son will marry at year’s end, and he’s marrying Dr. Wei, the palace’s female physician. A perfect match of handsome man and beautiful woman. This is my small token of appreciation.”
Looking at the gift list, Wang Qianhu demurred, “These gifts are too generous. I dare not accept them.”
Yan Shifan pushed the list back over. “Just small gifts – how can you not accept them? Don’t tell me you despise me for being down on my luck and deliberately avoid social courtesies with me?”
The orders from his superior Zhu Xizhong to Wang Qianhu were: no matter what the Yan father and son did, don’t interfere. As long as they didn’t leave Jiangxi, don’t restrict their freedom. The more these grasshoppers after autumn jumped around, the better.
Wang Qianhu had previously been a low-level military officer patrolling streets, never even having seen the Emperor. He didn’t understand why Zhu Xizhong acted this way, but he was a soldier – when superiors gave orders, he had to obey. So when the Yan father and son forcibly demolished civilian houses, Wang Qianhu didn’t speak up, only truthfully reported to Zhu Xizhong.
When Yan Shifan gave gifts, he felt they were too expensive, but he had to accept them. After some perfunctory refusal, he still accepted the gifts.
After Yan Shifan presented the gifts and cupped his hands in farewell, given Wang Qianhu’s current position, there was no need to personally escort him out.
Once Yan Shifan left the Regional Military Commission office, the smile on his face suddenly vanished, his single eye flashing with cold light.
Wang Qianhu had his subordinates unwrap and inspect all of Yan Shifan’s gifts, finding nothing unusual.
However, to be cautious, Wang Qianhu wouldn’t actually keep Yan Shifan’s gifts. He had his advisors distribute all the gifts as prizes for military training exercises, awarding them to the winning side to encourage the morale and competitive spirit of these garrison soldiers who were used to farming.
His advisor felt it wasn’t worth it for Wang Qianhu. “Sir, it’s been three years, and these garrison soldiers are hopeless – they only know farming and making money. They’ve long lost a soldier’s fighting spirit. When you train them, they complain and gossip behind your back that you’re meddling and interfering with their autumn harvest farm work. Now you’re using your private property as rewards – why bother? No matter what you do, sir, you won’t get any good words.”
Wang Qianhu had his principles. “We can’t start doing wrong just because they’re wrong. We still need to do the right thing. These three years, the southeastern Japanese pirates have been eliminated only to resurface, resurface only to be eliminated again. Though they decrease each year, we can’t be careless. If the pirates flow into this area again and invade our Jiangxi, at least this time we’ll be prepared, and we won’t see a repeat of the tragedy from three years ago when seven pirates could capture an entire county.”
Hearing this, the advisor knew Wang Qianhu’s mind was made up and stopped trying to persuade him, taking the gifts to the training ground to use as prizes.
After Wang Qianhu finished writing his letter, his youngest son woke from his afternoon nap looking for father to play. Wang Daqiu was almost six years old, and Wang Qianhu personally taught him to read, teaching five characters each day. He picked up his brush and wrote the character “嫂” (sister-in-law). “You’re going to have a big sister-in-law. When we return home at year’s end, be sweet-tongued and call her big sister-in-law, and she’ll give you New Year’s money.”
Wang Daqiu asked, “Who is big sister-in-law?”
Wang Qianhu found it somewhat difficult to say. “She’s… Dr. Wei from next door. You’ve seen her many times and should still remember her.”
“I remember.” Wang Daqiu took out the insect-repelling snake sachet hanging on his chest. “Big sister-in-law gave me this and said I can’t take it off, or insects and snakes will bite my nose.”
Wei Caiwei had given Wang Qianhu the formula for the medicines in the sachet, telling him to replace them at least once a month. The thing was really effective – Jiangxi was humid with many insects and snakes. Once a long snake slithered into Wang Daqiu’s bedding but didn’t bite him.
Wang Qianhu comforted himself that although this eldest son and daughter-in-law were of humble origin and she was a widow, she had skills and a clear mind – she wasn’t completely useless… At worst, she was better than his former wife.
With his former wife as comparison, Wang Qianhu gradually found Wei Caiwei much more pleasing to the eye, convincing himself.
With letters going back and forth, two months passed this way. By early winter in the tenth month, the capital was filled with swirling dust storms as usual. Daytime was perpetually like dusk, and whenever people went out, they wore eye veils and face coverings to avoid the wind and sand.
The Forbidden City was also shrouded in dust storms. Emperor Jiajing had clearly aged and weakened over these three years. Looking at the gloomy, sunless sky, his mood grew increasingly melancholic. Shang Qinglan, accompanying him, was also listless. “When will it snow heavily and cover up this dust storm?”
Normally, weather matters should be asked of the Imperial Observatory, but Emperor Jiajing believed in Taoism. When in doubt, he asked heaven. At Shang Qinglan’s hint, Emperor Jiajing summoned the two Taoist priests most skilled in planchette writing – Hu Dashun and Lan Tianyu – to perform divination and ask heaven when the dust storms would stop.
Three years ago, these two had accepted bribes from Chief Minister Xu Jie and manipulated the planchette to drive the Yan father and son out of the capital. Now, Shang Qinglan had bribed them again to use the same trick, revealing through planchette writing the news of Prince Yu’s grandson’s birth.
The poor little prince had been born over two months ago but still hadn’t had his first haircut ceremony or been officially recognized.
A layer of gold sand was spread on the winnowing basket. Emperor Jiajing asked, “When will heaven send rain and snow to disperse the dust storm?”
Hu Dashun and Lan Tianyu, one on each side, held two sticks to guide the hanging bamboo brush. Words appeared in the gold sand: “Heaven grants a unicorn son, immediately sending sweet dew.”
Emperor Jiajing asked again, “Where is the unicorn son?”
The planchette answered: “Yu.”
Emperor Jiajing only had two surviving sons – Prince Yu and Prince Jing – but he disliked both, especially Prince Yu. “Prince Yu? He’s always been here.”
The planchette continued writing: “Prince Yu’s son, the unicorn child of the auspicious flower-moon period.”
Emperor Jiajing asked everyone, “Prince Yu has a son?”
The birth of Prince Yu’s new son was already known to everyone, but no one dared tell Emperor Jiajing. Hearing this, they all knelt down trembling, not daring to speak – no one wanted to stick their neck out.
It was the “straightforward” Shang Qinglan who said, “I heard that on the seventeenth of the eighth month, two days after the Mid-Autumn Festival, Prince Yu had a son. The ‘auspicious flower-moon period’ mentioned in the planchette probably refers to the Mid-Autumn Festival.”
Emperor Jiajing had a successor, but there was no joy on his face. He said, “He was born over two months ago – why do the dust storms continue?”
Shang Qinglan said, “Perhaps it’s because there’s been no haircut ceremony or full-month celebration?”
If royal children didn’t have their bloodlines confirmed, being born was like not being born at all – the Imperial Clan Court wouldn’t spend money to support them.
This was Emperor Jiajing’s greatest taboo, but since it was heaven’s guidance, he couldn’t go against heaven’s will. He told Shang Qinglan, “Arrange the haircut ceremony as soon as possible and get it done.”
Shang Qinglan agreed. She pondered Emperor Jiajing’s meaning – he didn’t want to make a big deal of it or announce it to the world, just go through the motions to comply with heaven’s will.
Since that’s the case, I’ll do a favor.
Using the chicken feather as an arrow of command, Shang Qinglan used organizing the little prince’s haircut ceremony as an excuse to grant court physician Wei Caiwei the seventh-rank position of典药 (Medicine Administrator). Wei Caiwei would serve as a court lady official to go to Prince Yu’s mansion to cut the little prince’s hair.
Wei Caiwei was sitting at home when an official position fell from heaven. She hurried to the palace to express gratitude. Though the position wasn’t high, she was no longer a commoner – she had official status.
Shang Qinglan granted her a seat. “This is my dowry gift to you. Now that you’re an official, those people won’t point and gossip that you and Wang Daxia are mismatched, saying you’re climbing above your station by marrying into the Wang family.”
Wei Caiwei received official robes, hat, boots, and replacement rank insignia patches for all four seasons. The winter one was a Yang Sheng patch. Wei Caiwei sewed the patch onto her python robe, put on the official hat, and showed it to Wang Daxia. “Is it sewn straight? I have to wear this official robe to cut the little prince’s hair tomorrow.”
This was Wang Daxia’s first time seeing her in official robes and hat, looking solemn and inviolable, proud yet austere.
The more she looked like this, the more he wanted to tear away this pretense and force her to reveal her true nature. Outside, dust storms raged; inside the bed curtains, thunder and rain, full of spring vigor.
…Half an hour later, Wei Caiwei had already lost her enthusiasm and felt bored, while Wang Daxia was still “hoeing at midday, sweat dripping on the soil below.”
Though they say only exhausted oxen, no ruined fields, without skill in cultivation, even the earth grows weary.
Old oxen all think diligence can make up for clumsiness, but this isn’t true. According to the law of diminishing marginal returns, excess is as bad as deficiency – clumsy is clumsy, whether short or long.
Wei Caiwei discovered that since ancient times, nothing is perfect. In the previous life, Eunuch Wang had no chopsticks, but he was dexterous with his hands and heart. In this life, Wang Daxia had chopsticks but only knew brute force without any technique.
This wasn’t martial arts combat where one force defeats ten skills.
Wei Caiwei wanted to end it, but Wang Daxia showed no signs of being satisfied. Forcibly cutting off the supply wouldn’t be good – what if he could never eat again? That would be a huge loss.
Fortunately, Wei Caiwei was reborn and her techniques remained, not forgotten at all. In the previous life, when Eunuch Wang had no chopsticks, Wei Caiwei had studied many medical books and even observed male-male illustrations from the marketplace, teaching herself how men could eat their fill even without chopsticks.
She picked up sheep intestines soaked in warm milk from beside the bed, put them on her finger, embraced Wang Daxia, and slid down along his spine.
Wang Daxia didn’t know what she intended to do, only feeling numb and itchy when her finger reached his tailbone, with a strange sensation.
But Wei Caiwei’s finger kept going down without stopping.
Wang Daxia sensed danger. “What are you doing?”
“Trust me.” Using her previous life’s technique, Wei Caiwei found the right angle and pressed without hesitation.
Wang Daxia made the same cat-like whimpering sound as Eunuch Wang in his previous life. Little Wang Xia’s fortress flag was cut down, declaring surrender.
Author’s Note: Banxia: Since ancient times, nothing is perfect. Sigh