Although Wuzhen had planned to rest for a couple of days after returning and go out with her husband to appreciate the osmanthus flowers, her pleasant idea was quickly overtaken by reality. From the second day after their return, Wuzhen found herself too busy to even think about such leisurely activities.
First, Duke Yu heard the news of his daughter’s return and immediately rushed back from the Buddhist temple. He didn’t bother to inquire about the reason for Wuzhen and her husband’s trip, nor did he care to listen to Wuzhen’s fabricated excuses. The old father had a clear purpose – he directly caught Wuzhen and gave her a stern lecture. Wuzhen, seeking to escape, brought up her pregnancy as a shield.
However, this tactic didn’t work. Learning that she had gone out while pregnant only made Duke Yu angrier. The good temper he had cultivated through his spiritual retreat proved useless when faced with his youngest daughter. Wuzhen had no choice but to sit before her father for several hours, cradling her belly and staring blankly as she listened to his teachings.
After Duke Yu, the next visitors were Lang Jun Zhao and the other young men who often played with Wuzhen. She hadn’t informed them before leaving Chang’an, and it was only two days after her departure that they realized she had left the city without a word when they couldn’t find her to play. The group complained bitterly about Sister Zhen’s inconsideration.
However, this group of youngsters wasn’t as formidable as old Duke Yu, who could make Sister Zhen meekly submit. Wuzhen intimidated them into silence with her authority, then offered a sweetener – promising to personally take everyone autumn hunting later, ensuring they’d have their fill of fun. This pacified the group of overgrown children.
The only odd thing was that Mei Si hadn’t come. It was unclear whether he was again immersed in painting ghosts and spirits at home.
During the day, a steady stream of visitors left Wuzhen no time to herself. At night, she had no opportunity for moonlit romance with her husband, as the yaoshi awaited her attention.
This busy schedule continued for three consecutive days, leaving Wuzhen without a moment to catch her breath. On the third day, a summons arrived from the palace – the Empress, the Noble Consort, and even the Emperor wished to see her.
The Empress and Noble Consort naturally wanted to ensure that Wuzhen and Mei Zhuyu had switched back. As for the Emperor, he had often summoned Wuzhen to the palace to appreciate songs and dances, considering her a kindred spirit. With Wuzhen absent from the palace for so long, the Emperor naturally missed her. Thus, Wuzhen spent another full day in the palace.
Mei Zhuyu returned to his post at the Ministry of Justice on the second day, resuming his role as the quiet Lang Zhong. However, upon his return, he discovered that Deputy Minister Xu, who had always been at odds with him and liked to make things difficult, had been reassigned. This made his days at the Ministry even more peaceful, with no one bothering him or getting close to him.
Having taken such a long leave of absence for no apparent reason and then returning to work as if nothing had happened, the other officials in the Ministry couldn’t help but gossip about this reclusive colleague. However, just a few days after Mei Zhuyu’s return, several palace eunuchs and maids arrived at the Ministry office, bringing him a large vase with over a dozen osmanthus branches. The fragrance permeated the air from Daming Palace.
The lead eunuch, with a round face and a kind smile, said to Mei Zhuyu, “These are fragrant osmanthus from the Imperial Garden. Both His Majesty and Her Highness the Empress are particularly fond of the osmanthus there. Today, when Madam Yi Guo was present and the osmanthus was mentioned, His Majesty bestowed this vase of branches upon Lang Zhong Mei to enjoy.”
The ‘Madam Yi Guo’ the eunuch referred to was Wuzhen. After her grand wedding, she had been bestowed the title of Guo Furen. Given her status as the Empress’s younger sister, it was only natural for her to receive the first-rank title of Guo Furen, especially considering the Emperor’s favor towards her. Wuzhen’s rank was even higher than Mei Zhuyu’s, though this wasn’t a subject of mockery among gossip. After all, since the founding of the dynasty, many princesses’ mothers-in-law, sisters-in-law, and the sisters and relatives of empresses and favored consorts had been granted the title of Guo Furen.
The current dynasty had an open atmosphere. In recent years, during Ruizong’s reign, he had bestowed the title of Guo Furen on five sisters from his favored consort’s family. The husbands of these Furens similarly couldn’t match their wives’ ranks, making such situations commonplace.
If a man were more assertive, he might quarrel with his wife over such idle gossip. However, for Mei Zhuyu, these complexities were trivial. As he accepted the vase of arranged osmanthus branches, he recalled how Wuzhen had returned from the yaoshi late last night, tiredly leaning against him and lamenting, “If we don’t go appreciate the osmanthus flowers soon, we’ll miss the best time.”
Mei Zhuyu didn’t understand the concept of the “best time” for flower appreciation. To him, any moment with Wuzhen by his side was the best time. Wuzhen still had this on her mind. Unable to personally take him to see the reportedly finest osmanthus garden in Chang’an, she had found a way to send him some. He wondered how she had managed to convince the Emperor and Empress to send someone to the Ministry just to deliver these few branches of osmanthus.
After the flower bearers left, Mei Zhuyu placed the flowers beside his desk. Throughout the day, the sweet fragrance filled his nostrils, causing him to look up frequently. Each glance reminded him of Wuzhen, and work that would normally take an afternoon to complete was barely half-finished by the end of the day.
Despite not finishing his work, Mei Zhuyu didn’t stay late when the time came to leave. He carried the flowers home, leading his horse by the reins to avoid shaking the blossoms loose.
Shortly after he arrived home, Wuzhen returned as well. As soon as she entered, she asked, “How are they? Do the osmanthus flowers smell nice? I specially chose branches with the most blossoms.”
She had, of course, selected the best branches from the finest tree, causing the Emperor to visibly wince, much to the Empress’s amusement. Even the Noble Consort rarely smiled as she asked if he was reluctant to part with them. Faced with his wives, what could the Emperor do but watch helplessly as Wuzhen cut several branches, leaving one branch nearly bare?
Unaware of these details, Mei Zhuyu had already changed the water and arranged the osmanthus branches nicely in their room. Wuzhen had been surrounded by osmanthus fragrance all day in the Imperial Garden and was tired of the scent, but she didn’t want her husband to notice. She discreetly led Mei Zhuyu to the study to look at the night-blooming cereus. Although most had bloomed two days ago, there were still one or two unopened buds. While not as spectacular as before, watching these flowers slowly unfurl in the night had its charm.
“Are you going to the yaoshi tonight?” Mei Zhuyu noticed her weary expression and pressed her hand worriedly, intending to check her pulse.
Wuzhen playfully caught his hand in hers, smiling. “Of course, I have to go. Little Snake left a mountain of work for me. If I don’t go, she might come here in the middle of the night and drag me out.”
She was joking, but Mei Zhuyu didn’t find it amusing. He said, “If there’s work to be done, I can help you.”
Yesterday, when Wuzhen said she needed to go to the yaoshi to handle some matters, Mei Zhuyu had also offered to help, but she refused, using his injuries as an excuse. Mei Zhuyu’s wounds were almost healed, but Wuzhen had sternly said that until the scabs fell off, he wasn’t fully recovered. Then, before Mei Zhuyu could argue, she had slipped away, leaving him unable to stop her.
In reality, Wuzhen simply didn’t want her husband to see her being scolded by Little Snake at the Yan Tower. That would be too embarrassing!
However, tonight, Mei Zhuyu was insistent. He studied Wuzhen’s face and decided to accompany her to the yaoshi.
Wuzhen tried to dissuade him throughout dinner, but he remained silent, indicating there was no room for negotiation. Wuzhen had no choice but to bring him along to the yaoshi, hoping that Little Snake would save her some face and not scold her as she had yesterday.
Fortunately, Liu Taizhen was tactful. Seeing Mei Zhuyu arrive with Wuzhen, she reverted to her cold, frosty demeanor and didn’t say a harsh word – though she did assign Wuzhen a troublesome task.
When Wuzhen saw the job of clearing the drowned puppets from Chang’an’s rivers and canals, she knew Little Snake was still angry, aware of how much Wuzhen hated such tedious tasks.
As they left the yaoshi, Wuzhen mentioned that she would be clearing drowned puppets from the rivers that night. Mei Zhuyu frowned disapprovingly, “There are numerous waterways in Chang’an, and the drowned puppets often hide underwater. One can only search for them by entering the water. How can you engage in such strenuous activity in your condition?”
Wuzhen thought to herself: So Little Snake gave me this task knowing you’d come with me, certain that you wouldn’t let me do it. This means she intends for you to do it instead.
Wuzhen realized that Little Snake must have strong objections to their recent trip. However, given their years of friendship, Wuzhen understood that Liu Taizhen was concerned for her, thinking her actions were too rash. There was nothing more to say. Clearing her throat, she said, “Actually, I do this every year. It’s not that tiring.” Besides, the clearing of drowned puppets was usually concentrated in August and September. It was already October, so they must have already been cleared once. There probably weren’t many left to clear. Little Snake had calculated well, ensuring there wouldn’t be any real danger.
Mei Zhuyu was unhappy. “I’ll go. You need to rest well. You’ve been exhausted these past few days without proper rest.”
Seeing his expression, Wuzhen didn’t dare refuse. So that night, Wuzhen sat leisurely by the rivers, lakes, and canals, watching her husband efficiently pull out large clumps of drowned puppets from the water. He even managed to fish out an ancient drowned puppet that had been hiding in Qujiang Pool for who knows how long, tossing it onto the shore in a large heap. Wuzhen found the soft, squishy feeling under her feet quite pleasant as she walked on them, causing the drowned puppets to emit an unnerving creaking sound.
The shore was littered with drowned puppets. These spirits, capable of entangling swimmers and drowning them, were troublesome in water but as weak as fish out of water on land. By tomorrow’s sunshine, they would melt into water, leaving no trace.
Mei Zhuyu approached every task with utmost seriousness. He spent the entire night catching drowned puppets and thoroughly cleaning all the waterways. As dawn approached and they returned home, Wuzhen sighed, “It seems we won’t need to catch drowned puppets next year.”
Mei Zhuyu wrung out the corner of his clothes, his black hair hanging by his temples still damp. “I’ll help you with these tasks next year as well.”
Unusually, Mei Zhuyu didn’t hold her hand, as he had been in the water for a long time and his body was cold. He didn’t want to chill Wuzhen. Wuzhen didn’t react to his words, but smiled and said, “I’m tired and can’t walk. Husband, carry me home.”
Mei Zhuyu hesitated. “I’m wet.”
Wuzhen pretended to massage her waist. “Oh, I’m so tired.” She glanced at him slyly.
Mei Zhuyu picked her up, his arms steady and strong.