Lin Ruhai had to admit that Hongli’s appearance was pleasing to the eye. Whether the emperor or his own daughter, their looks could not be called anything but exceptional.

He was right at the prime of youth. Looking at that upright bearing similar to the current emperor’s physique, that bearing—Lin Ruhai’s face unconsciously broke into a smile.

“Greetings to the Fourth Prince.”

There was a distinction between monarch and subject.

Although he was indeed his own grandson, propriety could not be abandoned. Lin Ruhai would not be careless about such minor details.

Before the ritual was complete, Hongli proactively helped him up. He knew of Lin Ruhai and the others’ concerns and voluntarily stated that his family knew of his departure, and moreover, it was precisely under his family’s authorization that he had set out.

This excursion had been his own initiative. Gusu was his first destination, but not the endpoint.

Hongli wished to see them on behalf of his imperial mother, and he himself also wanted to know what they were doing. Additionally, he wanted to examine some of the overseas books that his uncle and aunt had translated and left behind.

He was quite interested in overseas matters. To this end, he had even inquired of some missionaries and merchants who had come from the West. Many things had indeed surprised him as well.

Learning of his purpose in coming, both Lin Ruhai and Yun Shuyao relaxed. Was it not just coming out to see the world? This was simple.

Moreover, this was indeed necessary. His uncles had staged the drama of nine dragons competing for the throne, each one scheming endlessly. By the time it reached Hongli’s generation, Yongzheng’s number of sons was far fewer than during Kangxi’s time. With fewer options available, Hongli’s generation did not have as much competition.

In these three years, Hongli’s advantage was considerable.

Although he had not been established as crown prince, his status was indeed implicitly higher than his other brothers, especially since the Third Prince somehow repeatedly grew close to the Eighth Prince.

However, too smooth a life was also not good. As the saying goes, read ten thousand books, travel ten thousand miles. What one sees in the capital is not everything.

Yongzheng wanted to temper his son, so he gave him the identity of an imperial envoy traveling south for inspection, and dispatched sufficient personnel to accompany him, ensuring his safety.

Yun Shuyao listened briefly to Hongli’s purpose in traveling south and then put it out of mind. This had nothing to do with her. What was relevant was that he would help them.

Help?

This scenario was not unfamiliar to Yun Shuyao. Previously, Hongli and the prince from Prince Cheng’s household had accompanied her to work the fields together. She had not hesitated to put them to work. Now Hongli had grown up and come again—what did this represent?

It represented that he could do even more things now.

“Come here and move these seedlings over.”

“Do you see the difference between these two types of seedlings?”

“The rice in this field is about to mature. You record it.”

“This is an overseas book about grain that hasn’t been completely translated yet. Can you understand it…” She put him to work however she needed.

Lin Ruhai initially wanted to say something, but watching Hongli respond to everything, skillfully changing into work clothes and going into the fields with practiced ease, he swallowed his words back.

It seemed the Fourth Prince had not neglected working the fields these past few years in the capital either.

Since this was the case, he would join him and take the opportunity to speak properly.

Having observed mourning in Gusu for so long, Lin Ruhai dared not claim complete knowledge of the official circles here, but he was not far from it.

Gusu was a prosperous place, but that did not mean all the common people could live and work in peace and contentment.

This realm belonged to the Aisin Gioro clan, and in the future, there was a very good possibility it would be his grandson’s realm.

To govern it well, one must first deeply understand it—whether good or bad, and even the storms beyond.

These days in Gusu were also a relatively novel experience for Hongli. Previously when his grandmother had put him to work, he had still been a young prince of the Yong Prince’s household. But now he was an imperial prince of the current dynasty, yet his grandmother treated him the same as before.

Compared to that previous time, the only difference was that giving him special instruction no longer needed to avoid people.

From his grandfather’s side, what he received was in the form of storytelling. These “stories” often captivated him while simultaneously filling him with regret—he had retired too early.

Yet precisely so his uncle could advance, he had no choice but to withdraw.

After staying in Gusu for a period, Hongli became even clearer about his next destination.

The time he spent in Gusu was not particularly long. Once his purpose was achieved, he went to the next destination.

He came quietly and left quietly. Apart from the Lin family’s trusted confidants, no one knew the Fourth Prince had ever been there.

Hongli went to many places. He even went to Guangfu, that place with the most overseas visitors, to communicate with those golden-haired, blue-eyed people from different lands.

By the time Hongli returned to the capital, over half a year had already passed.

His travels had not been easy. The road conditions at this time were what they were—even official roads were not necessarily comfortable.

When he returned to the capital, the changes in him were clearly visible.

When Lady Fuca saw him in this state, her eyes reddened. “My lord, you have suffered.”

Hongli had darkened and thinned. Yongzheng chatted with his son and discovered that the restless air about him had basically dissipated through this experience.

This greatly satisfied Yongzheng. Additionally satisfying him were the thick secret memorials his son presented. Following this came the successive downfall of some southern officials, and Hongli was also appointed by Yongzheng to the Ministry of Finance…

Yun Shuyao returned to the capital when her granddaughter Yayi married. She was Yongzheng’s only surviving daughter still living. Yongzheng naturally would not bear to marry her off to Mongolia. Although the imperial son-in-law was indeed Mongolian nobility, the likelihood of his branch returning to Mongolia was not great.

Setting aside other matters, a life of wealth and honor would not be lacking.

After attending her granddaughter’s wedding, Yun Shuyao entered the palace to see Luo Yu once before leaving again. This time she departed alone. Lin Ruhai remained behind. Yongzheng wanted to implement reforms. Chen Yu hoped he could stay. Two people discussing together was more comprehensive than him puzzling it out alone.

Yun Shuyao also mentioned several points regarding reforms, but whether they suited this era and could be implemented, she was uncertain. Rather than exert effort in areas where she was not skilled, she might as well focus on what she excelled at.

Her special ability was heaven-blessed. Currently, grain production had only increased by several portions.

She knew that in later generations, grain yield per acre could reach over a thousand catties. The current yield of around two hundred catties per acre was far too low.

Incidentally, she could also go to the locations on the “Catalog of All Things” to see if there were any gains.

Stopping and starting along the way, using the pretext of collecting seeds as cover, when in Guangfu, Yun Shuyao first received good news—Yuan Ge’er had participated in the spring examinations and passed, again placing third as Tanhua.

Three generations of grandsons, all placing third. Even as far away as Guangfu, people talked about it with relish.

Hearing this, Yun Shuyao also felt proud of her grandson. She felt some regret—if not for waiting for the items the fleet was bringing her, she would have originally returned to the capital. Just as she had received the fleet and was still organizing things, she heard shocking news: the Third Prince Hongshi had been adopted by the Eighth Prince Yinsi!

Hongshi had originally been the eldest. For this title, quite a few people had supported him. Now the eldest son had become Hongli!

He had already held the advantage. Now, basically, the selection of the next emperor no longer needed to be questioned.

This was good news for Hongli, and also good news for the Lin family.

But the happiness did not last long. Yun Shuyao received an express letter from the capital: Lin Ruhai had fallen ill with a persistent condition.

Human strength has its limits, and lifespan has its end. He was old.

He was over sixty. Compared to those in their seventies or eighties, his age was not particularly advanced. But compared to the male ancestors of the Lin family, he was already long-lived.

Upon receiving the letter, Yun Shuyao immediately rushed back and caught the final meeting.

Lin Ruhai had thinned considerably. Yun Shuyao extended her hand. Without needing to say more, Lin Ruhai proactively exposed his wrist.

His five organs were failing. It was not some other illness. Just as the letter had stated, he was simply old.

Yun Shuyao felt somewhat melancholy. Lin Ruhai still consoled her: “No need to be sad. That I can have my current lifespan is already an unexpected joy.”

What dissatisfaction could Lin Ruhai have?

His son was in the Cabinet. After his grandson placed third in the examinations, he married. Now his grandson’s wife was already pregnant. On his eldest daughter’s side, her husband cherished her. She had raised two children, both filial. Her grandsons were also raised under her care. His second daughter was in the palace. Hongli was clearly going to become the next true Son of Heaven. His youngest daughter was in Nanying with both children, a harmonious marriage—what was there to be dissatisfied with?

Hearing such words, Yun Shuyao could not help but frown: “Easy to say.”

Not be sad just because you say not to be sad?

Year after year, Father had departed, Mother had also departed, and now another close relative, Lin Ruhai, was also leaving.

Seeing her sadness, Lin Ruhai could not help but sigh, his eyes showing a smile: “Fine, then be sad for a few days.”

This way of speaking was truly both exasperating and amusing: “Enough, stop with the glib talk.” Better to save some energy.

Lin Ruhai stopped speaking. Grasping Yun Shuyao’s hand, he closed his eyes. Not long after, he fell into a deep sleep.

Chen Yu stood nearby, forcibly suppressing his grief. Seeing his father asleep, he took a deep breath before lowering his voice to speak: “Mother, Father… now wakes for only short periods each day. He probably sleeps two or three hours before waking again.”

Father was very cooperative in taking his medicine daily. Each day he would also ask about Mother’s itinerary.

Chen Yu knew—Father was waiting for Mother to return, wanting to see her one more time.

Now having seen Mother, Chen Yu already had a premonition in his heart: Father… could not hold on much longer.

Yun Shuyao looked at Lin Ruhai’s hand. He was old. She herself was no longer young either.

She knew that from beginning to end, she had never developed romantic feelings for him. But after so many years together, if not blood relations, they were family. With family members departing one after another, she still could not bear to watch.

Yun Shuyao sat there, not withdrawing her hand, leaving it under Lin Ruhai’s hand the entire time. When he awoke again, the first thing he saw was Yun Shuyao.

“Cough, cough, cough, cough…” Yun Shuyao brought him water: “Drink a little to moisten your throat.”

Lin Ruhai drank a small spoonful. Leaning against the pillow, it took him a long time just to regulate his breathing.

His gaze held some melancholy: “I’m sorry to leave you alone.”

As the person who shared her pillow, he could sometimes sense her loneliness—a loneliness no one else could understand.

After he departed, their children and grandchildren would each have their own companions and futures, unable to constantly remain by her side. She would become even more lonely.

Yun Shuyao raised her eyes, looking at him. “You will all always accompany me.” She took out a scroll painting: “Look.”

This was painted in Guangfu—the image of that dashing young Tanhua scholar she had first seen upon entering the Lin residence.

With black hair and blue robes, jade-like features, holding a book in his hand, smiling as he pointed to a painting on the desk.

This was an unfinished painting. Right now only half was painted—the other half was herself.

Looking at himself in the painting, the corners of Lin Ruhai’s mouth could not help but lift. “You still remember… it’s been so long.” He could not help but think of that time—several decades had already passed.

His gaze slowly withdrew from the scroll: “Shuyao, all these years, thank you.”

Yun Shuyao looked back: “Between us, formalities are unnecessary.” If we’re speaking of it, she should also thank him.

When she and the Yun family faced difficulties, he had generously extended aid, and afterward continued to help the Yun family.

At that time, her ability was weak—she did not even have the capacity to rescue her father.

Although his actions were not purely from kindness, when she had first entered the Lin residence, had she not also harbored her own purposes?

Tonight Lin Ruhai fell into a peaceful, deep sleep. From this sleep, he never rose again. Yun Shuyao sat blankly by his bed for a long time. Chen Yu, forcibly suppressing his grief, came to console her: “Mother, please accept my condolences. You must also take care of your health. Your son… only has Mother now.” Beyond grief and sorrow, Chen Yu also felt somewhat panicked. Father had passed away. Of the elders, only Mother remained. If Mother also departed… he could not accept it.

Yun Shuyao said nothing for a time. After a long while, she finally sighed. “Hang the white mourning cloths.”

Sending off one elder after another—perhaps in the future she would send off even more people.

Was it sad?

It was sad.

Was it lonely?

It was lonely.

But often, she also enjoyed loneliness.

In this era, she was fundamentally a stranger. She could not forget modern times. The imprint of modernity was deeply stamped upon her. She could not forget it, nor did she wish to.