Ji Cheng’s mind, full of twists and turns, quickly understood Shen Yuan’s meaning after a moment’s thought. She inwardly smiled bitterly; Shen Yuan hadn’t spoken plainly, so how could she rush to say she had no interest in Chu Zhen?
After Shen Yuan left, Ji Cheng found herself nauseated by all these matters between men and women. She felt it would be more refreshing to look at a few account books. Having slept much during the day, she found herself unable to sleep at night. She decided to have Nan Gui lead her through the secret passage to the hidden room beneath the Nine Li Courtyard.
Now, this hidden room exclusively belonging to Ji Cheng was vastly different from its previous crude state. When Shen Che had allowed Ji Cheng to decorate the room to her liking, she hadn’t declined. Thinking she might often stay here in the future, she had carefully drawn up plans and given them to Nan Gui to implement.
Today was Ji Cheng’s first time seeing the “Snow Night Moon-Embracing Studio” after its decoration.
The Moon-Embracing Studio was still spacious, with only a thick, wide, snow-white long-haired rug laid out according to Ji Cheng’s arrangement. Ji Cheng had drawn the plans out of spite, never expecting such a large long-haired rug to be found. Of course, Shen Che’s instructions must have played a part in this.
A natural small table was placed on the rug, with a lazy Susan beside it. A large, soft pillow embroidered with jade-patterned lotus petals on a dark green background rested against the lazy Susan.
Behind the lazy Susan, against the wall, stood a row of low cabinets for storing account books. Besides these, there was only a man-high, white paper-covered, olive-shaped floor lantern in the corner, and nothing else.
Oh, there was one more thing: all four walls were covered with white paper as per Ji Cheng’s instructions.
When Nan Gui had first finished the decorations, she doubted whether she had misread the plans. She checked three times but couldn’t understand what was so appealing about this. And why was this hidden room called the “Snow Night Moon-Embracing Studio”?
Although Ji Cheng was still ill, she felt more spirited than usual. She touched the long-haired snow rug, rubbing her face against the fur. It was soft and extremely comfortable. She was very satisfied with Nan Gui’s arrangement.
Ji Cheng asked Nan Gui to light the paper lantern. “Have you prepared the brushes, ink, and paints I asked for?”
Nan Gui nodded, taking out the brushes, ink, and paints from the cabinet and placing them on the small table. She also brought out several bowl-sized brush pens and set them out.
Ji Cheng said, “You may go now. Leave me alone here.”
Ji Cheng tinkered in the Moon-Embracing Studio for several nights in a row, piquing Nan Gui’s curiosity. After much pleading, she was finally allowed to enter the transformed studio.
Standing at the doorway, Nan Gui stared unblinkingly at the surrounding walls. With her martial arts background, she had never been interested in the poetry, calligraphy, and paintings that ordinary women were accustomed to, and had never paid them much attention. Today, however, she felt something different.
“Miss, your painting seems different from others. I’ve never seen such a large scroll painting before. But it’s not just because of its size. There’s just something different about it,” Nan Gui said simply.
Ji Cheng smiled slightly, “Then look again and see what exactly is different.”
Ji Cheng sat cross-legged on the snow rug, lit the white paper lantern in the corner, took a brush, dipped it in ink, and with just a few strokes, sketched out a strong, old plum tree trunk.
Nan Gui walked in a bit further and reached out to touch the wall. She felt that the cluster of green bamboo was about seven feet away, but when she touched it, her hand met the wall.
Nan Gui exclaimed excitedly, “Miss, I’ve figured it out! Your painting looks so real. I thought the moon was hanging in the sky, but when I reach out to touch it, it’s on the wall.”
Ji Cheng smiled, “Mm, I used a little trick to deceive your eyes, that’s all.”
In modern terms, Ji Cheng’s painting was quite simple. She used a three-dimensional perspective in her two-dimensional drawing, making the scenery in the painting seem alive.
Ji Cheng’s “Snow Night Moon-Embracing Painting” on the wall was grand and imposing. The other three walls were painted in varying shades of ink blue, resembling the night sky under the moon. Within the ink blue, there were faint plum blossom shadows and vague, oddly shaped rocks. The wall with the unique moon had a window painted to the size of a real window, opened halfway, revealing a cluster of green bamboo outside. Above the bamboo was painted an icy moon, on which one could faintly see the shadows of mountains and rivers.
Inside the Moon-Embracing Studio, one could no longer tell this was an underground hidden room. There was no feeling of stuffiness; one could even feel a cool breeze blowing in from the window, carrying a faint plum blossom fragrance.
However, this plum fragrance wasn’t something that could be depicted by a brush. It was the scent of plum-scented incense cakes that Ji Cheng had made herself, a cool and pleasant fragrance.
“If I didn’t know what this Moon-Embracing Studio looked like before, I certainly wouldn’t have realized it was a hidden room when I first walked in,” Nan Gui marveled.
The moon in the sky and the plum blossom lamp on the ground illuminated each other. Ji Cheng leaned against the lazy Susan and began to flip through the account books, occasionally coughing a couple of times, indicating that she hadn’t fully recovered. She had eaten countless steamed pears with fritillary bulbs and used several jars of loquat syrup, but the cough persisted.
Nan Gui couldn’t quite understand why Ji Cheng wouldn’t rest and instead busied herself with various tasks.
Ji Cheng just couldn’t stay idle. Lying in bed only made her whole body ache. Looking at account books and dealing with correspondence from Jinzhou made her feel more at ease.
A reply from Ling Ziyun had arrived, full of concern. Since childhood, if Ji Cheng told him to go east, he would never go west. This time, with such a significant matter, Ling Ziyun had agreed immediately. However, the head of his family was still his father, so Ling Ziyun was inevitably constrained in his actions. Ling’s father’s stance was that he wouldn’t obstruct the Ji family from taking over the Tan and Chen families’ business, but at this stage, he could only observe.
This was already the best scenario Ji Cheng could have hoped for. The Tan and Chen families had been controlling 80% of the military equipment business in Jinzhou for over a decade. For an upstart like the Ji family to take over their business was nothing short of a pipe dream. If the Ling family were disloyal and betrayed the Ji family, it would spell disaster. Now that Ling’s father agreed to observe, it seemed Ling Ziyun must have spoken many good words about the Ji family.
Of course, if this business venture succeeded, the Ling family would also profit greatly. No one wants to be subservient to others, which was why Ling’s father was giving face to the Ji family.
Having received Ling Ziyun’s letter, Ji Cheng was about to look for Shen Che. Unexpectedly, as if their minds were connected, just as she put down the letter, the bell at the door rang.
Shen Che’s eyes first surveyed the surroundings before landing on Ji Cheng’s face. “Your complexion is so haggard, why are you still here?”
“Can’t stay idle,” Ji Cheng replied. Worried about passing on her illness to others, this place had become Ji Cheng’s comfort zone.
Shen Che smiled, lifted his robe, and sat down opposite Ji Cheng. “Hold out your hand.”
Ji Cheng obeyed and asked curiously, “Where did Cousin Che learn this medical skill?” On the way back to the capital from Nanyuan, Shen Che had checked Ji Cheng’s pulse once and prescribed medicine. Ji Cheng had been taking medicine according to his prescription with good results. However, Shen Che had disappeared these past few days, so Ji Cheng could only take the medicine prescribed by Physician Song, as mentioned by Shen Yuan, but the root of her illness hadn’t been eliminated.
Shen Che’s fingertips rested on Ji Cheng’s wrist as he carefully examined her complexion. “Stick out your tongue.”
Ji Cheng obeyed again, and Shen Che switched hands to check her pulse. Without explaining the medical principles, he directly began writing a prescription.
Ji Cheng rested her chin on her hand, watching Shen Che write quickly. She thought that when he was serious, he looked like a famous doctor who had attained the Dao. In the snow night painting, he even seemed to have a touch of immortality. If his eyebrows turned white, he might just fly away.
Shen Che finished writing the prescription and handed it to Ji Cheng. She took it, looked it over, and finding nothing amiss, carefully put it aside. “When Cousin Che checks my pulse, it seems different from other doctors. I feel as if a stream of energy enters my bloodstream.”
“This is my master’s unique skill, diagnosing with qi. Not only can it detect surface conditions, but also the skin, spleen, and stomach,” Shen Che explained.
Despite his flowery words, Ji Cheng was only half-convinced. What she was more interested in was how a young master from a Duke’s family like Shen Che came to study medicine.
As if he could hear Ji Cheng’s thoughts, Shen Che answered, “It’s merely a hobby.” However, even though it was just a hobby for him, he could already put most medical practitioners in the world to shame. Shen Che practiced the world’s top martial arts, so when he sought a master to learn medicine, he naturally learned from the most famous divine doctor in the world.
But Ji Cheng didn’t think about the famous doctor’s reputation, as the old man was said to have passed away long ago.
“Take two doses of this medicine first. I’ll check your pulse again in a few days,” Shen Che said.
Ji Cheng was about to refuse when Shen Che continued, “You were extremely lucky this time. In the future, unless necessary, don’t use the trick of harming yourself to deceive others. If your body hadn’t been in relatively good condition, this one incident alone could have reduced your lifespan by ten years.”
“So exaggerated?” Ji Cheng smiled. “Of course, I was extremely lucky, thanks to Cousin being willing to check my pulse.”
Shen Che thought for a moment. “If you’re willing to undress and let me give you acupuncture, your illness could recover faster.”
Ji Cheng quickly shook her head. “Illness naturally recedes like pulling silk. Haste makes waste. It’s fine to recover slowly.”
Shen Che snorted coldly. “Has the Ling family replied?”
Ji Cheng nodded. “Uncle Ling only agreed not to interfere. With such a large family, he can’t be without concerns. Once he sees us taking action, he will surely help us.”
Shen Che didn’t comment on this but instead said, “I received a message from a secret agent. The Tan family will be selling a batch of military equipment to Yanqi before the new year. I’ll have people intercept it halfway. We can’t let Yanqi get so much military equipment, or the balance in the Western Regions will be disrupted. However, Yanqi suffered a crushing defeat in the battle at Lebo Fort with Kucha, so we still need to provide them with some equipment to prevent their complete collapse. You can use your connections with the Ling family to take on 20% of the military equipment transportation. For such a large shipment of military equipment, you usually wouldn’t use the same route. I’ll give you a route then, guaranteeing your safety. As for whether you can make Yanqi trust only your Ji family and lose faith in the Tan and Chen families, that depends on your abilities.”
“Alright,” Ji Cheng agreed, suddenly remembering past events. “Four years ago, the Tan and Chen families also suffered a heavy loss, which weakened them. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have agreed to let our Ji family get involved in the military equipment business. I wonder if that was also Cousin Che’s handiwork?”
“What are you trying to imply?” Shen Che countered without answering.
Ji Cheng had moved beyond mere hints. Over the past few days, she had pondered many questions. Although Shen Che was several years older than Ji Cheng, he was considered quite young for his current position.
Ji Cheng speculated that Shen Che’s hesitation regarding the military equipment in Jin territory was likely due to his still-developing influence. Otherwise, he could have easily dealt with both the Tan and Chen families, and then cultivated his power base—wouldn’t that have been more prudent?
She also considered the possibility that Shen Che’s superiors, for some reason, were unwilling to move against the Tan and Chen families, hence the need for such a roundabout approach. However, since she had guessed that the events from four years ago were Shen Che’s doing, he must have had the means to deal with the Tan family then. Why had it come to nothing afterward?
“I’m not hinting at anything,” Ji Cheng said. “Cousin Che has mentioned before that someone as clever as I am could easily make mistakes without knowing the full story.”
Shen Che laughed, “No wonder the sages said that only women and petty men are difficult to deal with—familiar, they’re disrespectful; distant, they’re resentful.” He leaned closer to Ji Cheng. “Don’t you think the latter part of that saying describes you perfectly?”
The room wasn’t particularly large. Ji Cheng had already felt too close when Shen Che was taking her pulse earlier. Now, as he leaned in, the scent of pine and sandalwood on his breath nearly brushed her face. She couldn’t help but lean back slightly, turning her face away as her ears reddened in defeat.
Fortunately, Shen Che made no further moves. Instead, he sat up straight and said seriously, “Acheng is so clever, you’ve already figured out the key to all this, haven’t you?”
Ji Cheng had indeed grasped the core of the matter. The Tan and Chen families’ thriving military equipment business couldn’t possibly operate without some information leaking. The imperial court had sent censors to Jin territory to investigate, but whether it was Censor Qiao who came openly with fanfare or Censor Zhu who came in disguise for a secret inspection, neither had lived to receive promotions or wealth. One died en route, while the other was killed shortly after leaving Jin territory. As for who killed them, it remains a mystery to this day.
But to Ji Cheng, this was no mystery at all; the killer was glaringly obvious. Why couldn’t the imperial court deal with these powerful families in Jin? There must be someone in a high position protecting them.
All state affairs in Great Qin were decided in the Hall of State Affairs. Only the bigwigs there could protect the Tan and Chen families.
But Ji Cheng couldn’t know who it was; her status was far too low.
When two tigers fight, one is bound to be injured. Ji Cheng was constantly waiting and preparing, looking for the right moment to either retreat safely or seize an opportunity to rise.
Ji Cheng wanted to know who Shen Che’s opponent was, but she also knew he wouldn’t be foolish enough to tell her.
“I understand that Cousin has his difficulties in handling matters,” Ji Cheng said, pledging her loyalty, “but as long as it’s for the good of the country and the people, I will help Cousin.”
“Pretty words, sounding better than a song,” Shen Che said sarcastically. He knew Ji Cheng had her agenda, but he didn’t take it to heart. If Ji Cheng were truly clever, she’d know what was best for her. These merchants were no different from courtesans—they always followed profit.
Ji Cheng stopped playing word games with Shen Che. He had already answered her earlier: he indeed had political enemies at court, and the Jingshi Army wasn’t invincible. The important matters of state were still in the hands of the Hall of State Affairs, not the Jingshi Army, which was only responsible for gathering intelligence.
“Since Cousin intends to take over the military equipment business in Jin territory, you should know that it relies on the mines,” Ji Cheng said. “The surrounding areas of Jin produce iron. Although the iron mines officially belong to the court, it’s precisely because the Tan and Chen families can claim these state-owned mines for themselves that they’ve become so dominant. If we can’t get control of the mines, any attempt to suppress the Tan and Chen families is just empty talk.”
Shen Che replied, “When Imperial Consort Wang was pregnant, the Emperor had already tacitly agreed that Jin territory would be the Crown Prince’s fief. Naturally, all mineral resources were assumed to belong to the Crown Prince as well. The Prince is young, and the Emperor’s health is poor. The Emperor has tacitly given the mine’s profits to the Wang family, intending to support them in protecting the Crown Prince. In case anything happens to the Emperor, the Wang family could protect the Crown Prince and stand against the other imperial clan’s residences.”
Only then did Ji Cheng understand why the Wang family was so arrogant in the capital, practically swaggering about. No wonder Shen Che couldn’t touch the iron mining rights in Jin territory.
These were national mines, yet the Emperor had treated them as private property and tacitly given them to his ministers. These ministers, in turn, betrayed Great Qin for their interests, sending weapons to the Western Regions, which were then used to attack Great Qin. It was laughable to think about it—and the instigator was none other than the Emperor himself.
“If the Emperor knew that the Wang family was selling military equipment produced from the iron mines to the Western Regions, couldn’t he bring down the Wang family?” Ji Cheng asked.
“The Wang family isn’t involved in this matter. They’re only responsible for collecting money,” Shen Che said. “There are many who can profit from this, not just the Wang family. It’s not advisable to touch their interests for now. If it provokes a backlash, we might lose more than we gain. If we were to report it, only the Tan and Chen families would be made scapegoats. There would be other families like Li or Zhang to take their place, but it definitely won’t be your Ji family.”
Ji Cheng lowered her head in silence. She didn’t believe Shen Che had no way to deal with this. He was the Emperor’s nephew and seemed to be greatly favored. From what he said, Shen Che could openly strike at the Wang family, he just didn’t want to. But why didn’t he want to?
After pondering for a while, Ji Cheng still asked her question.
Shen Che chuckled, “You think too highly of me.”
Ji Cheng hurriedly explained, “With Cousin Che’s ability to calculate people’s hearts, I think even if it’s a very tricky matter, there’s nothing you can’t solve. It just depends on whether you’re willing or not.”
Shen Che took out a warm teapot from the tea bucket beside him and poured a cup of tea. Frowning, he drank it and said, “You’re wasting good tea leaves.”
Ji Cheng had learned about brewing tea, preparing tea, and even recognizing tea and discerning water quality. But deep down, she wasn’t that refined of a person. It was something she had been forced to learn over the past few years. For her, tea was just something to quench thirst, and taking the trouble to brew tea was a waste of time. In this aspect, she and Chu Zhen were quite compatible.
“I thought your ‘Moon Embracing Snow’ painting had some artistic conception, but this tea of yours is like burning a zither to cook a crane,” Shen Che said.
One’s upbringing determines many habits. What Ji Cheng found inconsequential, Shen Che couldn’t compromise on. Ji Cheng watched him get up and leave. After a moment, servants brought in a lotus-shaped wind stove for brewing tea, along with a kettle. Shen Che’s usual tea utensils were also brought in.
Since they were brewing tea, it meant they were in for a long talk.
For a long conversation, kneeling formally would be uncomfortable. Ji Cheng had already lost all pretense of maintaining an image in front of Shen Che. To put it bluntly, even her daily trips to the latrine were probably reported to him by the spies around her. So Ji Cheng didn’t bother putting on airs. She lazily leaned back against the backrest, her black hair cascading down onto the snow-white carpet, reflecting the light of the plum blossom lamp and shimmering like satin, making one want to reach out and touch it.
Shen Che’s gaze lingered on Ji Cheng’s hair for a moment before returning to the bamboo ladle in his hand. He slowly scooped water from an old stone jar carved with fish playing among lotus to brew tea.
“This water is from last year’s snow, filtered through bamboo tubes and fine sand. Only then is it worthy of good tea,” Shen Che said softly.
His voice was pleasant, like a clear spring moistening rocks in the night—not a crisp, tinkling sound, but a deep, mellow, silent moistening.
Ji Cheng found herself softened by his hospitality. As Shen Che brewed the tea, not only was it not annoying, but it was captivating. His posture was natural, without affectation, and the poetic essence of tea flowed from his sleeves and fingertips, exuding an artistic charm. It was far more natural and wonderful than the tea-brewing methods Ji Cheng had learned.
Shen Che wasn’t wearing winter brocade robes or fur. Ji Cheng recalled that in the several times she had seen him recently, he had only worn a thin padded robe, making him look as elegant as a cloud-wreathed pine in the snow. Ji Cheng couldn’t help but think that this man truly loved beauty.
However, Shen Che was indeed favored by heaven. In dark colors, he appeared dignified and stern, pure and noble. In light colors, he looked handsome and otherworldly, dazzling like polished jade. Just looking at him was enjoyable.
Ji Cheng felt that she must have been staring at him for too long, to the extent that it pleased this cousin who enjoyed refinement. She heard Shen Che say, “I have a bamboo residence by a stream. Brewing tea there in early spring and summer has a special charm. We can go sit there when spring comes.”
Ji Cheng was truly flattered, but she had cultivated a demeanor of being neither moved by favor nor upset by disgrace. She only parted her vermilion lips slightly and said, “That would be lovely.”
Such a beauty, in light attire, reclining gracefully, with wrists as white as snow and lips like cherry blossoms.
Being ill, Ji Cheng didn’t like to wear makeup. It was late at night when she came here, so there was no need for flower-shaped makeup. Even her long black hair was only held in place by a jade comb. Although she was a bit haggard from her illness, she still deserved the praise for “disliking how rouge and powder would sully her beauty.”
Such a beauty, reflected in one’s eyes, already formed a landscape of its own. When Shen Che imagined her in his bamboo residence in the mountains—beauty like snow, emerald trees in the mist—even a famous painting would struggle to capture its essence. That’s why he suddenly and generously extended the invitation.
However, Ji Cheng was a down-to-earth person. She quickly began to urge Shen Che to continue their previous topic. She couldn’t stay here until dawn; she still had to return to her small courtyard.
Shen Che looked at Ji Cheng’s wrist, exposed as her sleeve slipped. It was as thin as a child’s, with skin that rivaled frost and snow in whiteness. There were faint red marks on it, probably left from her fall from the horse last time. To Shen Yuan, it might have been a flaw in the white jade, but to someone else’s eyes, it only made them want to add more red marks with their fingers.
Shen Che averted his gaze and closed his eyes to compose himself. Indeed, the benefits of seeing Ji Cheng more often were immeasurable.