Ever since childhood, Cen Xuanyue had read widely and studied deeply. Apart from rare prodigies like Zhang Zhixu, there were very few people she had ever truly admired from the bottom of her heart.
But she truly admired Chen Baoxiang.
Those who devote themselves to the concerns of the world invariably start from the broader picture, viewing all people as a single collective and devising a way forward for them as a whole.
But in Chen Baoxiang’s eyes, these women were not a vague, undifferentiated term called “students.” Each was a vivid and independent person, each with her own family, circumstances, and hardships. She would never use their futures to pave the way for reform.
She wanted to pave the road herself first — and then let them walk it with steady footing.
Cen Xuanyue even felt a twinge of shame. She, a civil official, had not dared to do what this military commander had been giving everything to accomplish.
“I’ve also had a look at each of your household registrations.” Cen Xuanyue sighed and began to speak. “I won’t claim to have reach everywhere, but in the Huaibei region I still carry some weight. Those letters of recommendation — I can help you obtain them.”
“But for the other regions, you’ll have to try on your own.”
When she finished, Cen Xuanyue still felt a little self-conscious, feeling as though she had helped very little.
But when she turned her head, she found Chen Baoxiang watching her with a smile, a hint of barely-suppressed amusement on her face. “Lord Cen really does know what’s needed — I hadn’t even opened my mouth yet and you’ve already taken the task upon yourself.”
Unable to decide whether to laugh or sigh, Cen Xuanyue said, “You hosted this student banquet specifically and invited me. Did you think I couldn’t see through that? I had my hesitations at first, but now that you’ve laid everything out so plainly, of course I have to help.”
“Thank you, Lord Cen.” She inclined her head.
The students at the table slowly began to understand what had just happened.
One by one, they rose to their feet and stood behind Chen Baoxiang, clasping their hands together in a bow. “Thank you, Lord Cen!”
Their voices rang out in unison, all doubt now gone.
Chen Baoxiang blinked, her gaze softening. “I’m not well-connected. The people willing to lend a hand are few. But even so, between us, we can carve out half a road.”
“This is as far as I can take you. Everything beyond this point depends on yourselves.”
“Thank you, Teacher.” Xue Hengyu bowed deeply to her.
·
With the serious matters settled, the mood at the table gradually lightened again.
Zhao Huaizhu took Chen Baoxiang aside and asked in a low voice, “Why did you stop me earlier?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb. Earlier on the terrace, that young lady was pouring out her feelings to your Lord Zhang. You clearly heard every word — your face even went dark — so why did you turn around and stop me from saying anything?”
Chen Baoxiang smiled lightly. “The light outside was dim. You must have seen wrong.”
“What dim light — it was midday, not evening. I saw it with both eyes wide open.” Zhao Huaizhu puffed out her cheeks. “And then you covered my mouth.”
What else could she have done? Let her blurt it out and tell Zhang Zhixu outright that she had been jealous?
That wasn’t right. He had already turned the young lady down, and with perfect composure throughout. If she were now to make a scene about it, she would be the one without grace.
She calmly picked up her tea and took a sip. “Senior Sister,” Chen Baoxiang said, “do keep a watch on your tongue. Don’t go saying anything careless to him.”
Zhao Huaizhu raised an eyebrow. “Only if you spar with me on spear techniques tomorrow.”
“……Deal.”
Zhao Huaizhu was delighted. Her spear technique was quite poor, and her junior sister had always refused to practice with her, claiming she was nearly being led astray by her. Yet here, in the blink of an eye, her junior sister had agreed without any hesitation.
·
When Chen Baoxiang returned home, she pushed open the door to find Han Xiao sitting alone, reading.
She swept a glance around the room. “Your Brother Zhang hasn’t come back yet?”
Han Xiao continued reading without looking up. “He came back, sat for a while, and left again. He also asked me to tell you that he’s been busy lately and won’t be coming over for now.”
She paused. “He’s not coming to Zhaixing Restaurant for the meal tomorrow either?”
“He said it wasn’t very good there and suggested finding somewhere else to meet another day.”
“……” Chen Baoxiang raised an eyebrow.
She had already kept herself composed and hadn’t made a fuss — so why was Second Young Master Zhang the one who seemed displeased? It wasn’t she who had attended a match-making banquet, nor she who had praised someone’s hairpin.
She pressed her lips and sat down beside Han Xiao, propping her chin in her hand as she watched her read.
As Han Xiao read on, she sensed something off and looked up in puzzlement. “Chen Jiejie, is something the matter?”
“Nothing. Keep reading.”
“But…” Han Xiao looked her over twice, then set down her book. “Jiejie looks like she has something she wants to ask me.”
“It’s nothing important, I’m just a little curious all of a sudden.”
Chen Baoxiang touched the tip of her nose. “Your Brother Zhang’s essay, ‘Discourse on Trees’ — I’ve heard people read it aloud. The diction and phrasing were quite fine. But how could it be something worth reading ten times?”
At this, Han Xiao’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Brother Zhang’s essay is not only fine in its phrasing — it is also admirable in how it uses natural things to speak about people. Several of the metaphors in it are truly ingenious. If Jiejie has read ‘On the Love of the Lotus,’ you would find it even more resonant.”
She had of course never read “On the Love of the Lotus.” She had barely opened a handful of books in her life. She only knew the Art of War because Elder Ye had read it to her as a bedtime story.
Indeed, she wasn’t suited to anything too refined.
“You sleep early. I’m going to rest.” Chen Baoxiang rose as if nothing were the matter. “I have to report to the palace tomorrow.”
The tenth day of each month was the ironclad day for the commander of the city guard to report to the Emperor. His Majesty had not issued a prior decree releasing her from the obligation, so after an absence of more than a month, she would once again be standing before the Emperor — a thorn in the imperial side.
Every ruler had their own methods and calculations. In all of the Great Sheng’s history, there had not been a single Emperor willing to institute sweeping reforms at the cost of their own interests for the sake of the realm.
Chen Baoxiang hoped that Li Bingsheng would be different.
But after so much time had passed — long enough that she could clearly see the true cause of Ye Shuangtian’s death — the Emperor had not summoned her to the palace midway.
Chen Baoxiang tempered her expectations accordingly.
No one was a saint. If Li Bingsheng could restore Great Sheng to a state where male and female officials were equally represented in the court, that alone would already be remarkable. To ask her to confront the darkness that lay beneath her own father’s throne — and then personally go about correcting it — was, after all, to ask something that ran counter to human nature.
She pressed a hand to her chest, steadied herself, and went to sleep. The next morning she rose early, sparred with Zhao Huaizhu on spear techniques, then presented herself at the palace on time in the afternoon.
“Lord Chen.” The officials from the Ministry of Personnel were as snide as ever the moment they laid eyes on her. “What a long time it has been. You look like you’ve lost some weight.”
Chen Baoxiang returned a smile that did not reach her eyes. “People only put on weight when they’re skimming off plenty of fat. I notice several of you lords have filled out quite nicely.”
“How dare you slander us!”
“My, my — here we are having a perfectly civil exchange, and you’re already raising your voices.” She shook her head with a cluck of her tongue. “The world doesn’t run on who shouts loudest, you know.”
“You—!” The official drew a deep breath to suppress his anger and let out a cold laugh. “I’ll be watching to see just how long your arrogance lasts.”
The whole court knew that Chen Baoxiang had fallen out of favor — that she could no longer be granted an audience at will, and that her written greetings could no longer even make it through the doors of the imperial study.
Without the weight of imperial favor behind her words, she was no longer a threat. Once the Emperor forgot her entirely, she could die in any ditch and no one would ever notice.
The doors to the imperial study opened. Hua Lingyin stepped out. “General Chen, please come in.”
The other officials dispersed. Chen Baoxiang drew a slow breath, and with the same carefree smile she always wore, stepped across the threshold of the imperial study.