In January, Jiangning County seemed yet to awaken from the festive New Year’s atmosphere. Although the Lantern Festival had passed many days ago, colorful lanterns still adorned the streets and alleys. The lingering joy of the holiday season could be felt everywhere, like the fading echoes of a grand feast.
The Jian mansion, silent for an entire year, suddenly opened its gates. Outside, white banners hung and mourning flags stood tall. The Jian family’s long-lost daughter had returned to conduct the family’s funeral rites properly.
Inside, a newly set up mourning hall awaited. Under the stark black character for “offerings,” knelt a young woman clad entirely in white mourning garb. Apart from her jet-black eyes and hair, she seemed drained of all color.
This funeral lacked a coffin, featuring thirty-seven memorial tablets that moved onlookers to tears and sorrow.
Ming Shu, however, didn’t cry. She calmly oversaw all funeral arrangements, graciously receiving each visitor who came to pay respects. Her poise and demeanor were flawless, starkly contrasting with the once vivacious young lady from Bianjing.
After the funeral came the reburial. Ming Shu chose a new site with auspicious feng shui to reinter her family. On the day of reburial, the procession wound through the mountains like a great white dragon.
It was only at Jian Jinhai’s grave that Ming Shu finally shed tears. “Father, I’ve returned,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see you one last time. But rest assured, I’ve avenged you and our family’s grievances.”
Only after exacting revenge did she feel worthy to face them.
Lu Chang knelt beside her, kowtowing three times before drawing the weeping Ming Shu into his arms, allowing her to finally release her pent-up sorrow.
After the funeral, Ming Shu didn’t rest. She had to revive the Jian family business single-handedly, and neither could nor wanted to take a break.
The gold workshop had long ceased operations, and almost all the shops were closed. As her first order of business, she summoned all the old employees and managers back to the Jian household.
In the spacious meeting hall, men young and old filled the room while Ming Shu sat at the head. Dressed in plain white mourning clothes, her dark hair adorned with only a few pearl hairpins, she wore no makeup. Her clear eyes held a gravitas beyond her years as she calmly faced the varied gazes of those gathered, showing neither timidity nor hesitation.
This was Lu Chang’s first time seeing Ming Shu in this light. In his mind, she was still the vibrant young lady from Bianjing or the adorable little girl from their childhood. Yet in the blink of an eye, she had become a capable leader, all traces of childish naivety gone.
She was now truly the young mistress of the Jian family.
“To those willing to return, I, Ming Shu, on behalf of my father and the Jian family, express our deepest gratitude. Your loyalty will forever be remembered,” she began. “For those who choose not to return, I understand and won’t force you. We each have our paths. I wish you all the best in your future endeavors.”
At some point, Ming Shu had risen and walked to the center of the hall. She bowed to those around her, her clear voice ringing out like jade striking stone.
A chorus of agreement rose from the assembly as they returned her gesture, reminiscent of the meetings held when Jian Jinhai was still alive.
As night deepened, candles blazed within the room.
“It’s so sore! Right there, yes!” Ming Shu exclaimed, her neck creaking as she turned it.
Warm hands massaged her shoulders and neck, bringing waves of relief.
“You’ve been hunched over for too long. You need to move around,” Lu Chang advised as he continued massaging. “I know you’re eager to sort out the accounts and get the business back on track, but you must also take care of yourself.”
“Just a little more left,” Ming Shu murmured, closing her eyes in contentment.
Lu Chang glanced at the desk. Her “little more” consisted of countless account books strewn across the table.
How could he leave with peace of mind?
Suddenly, a hand rested on his. “Lu Chang,” Ming Shu said, “you’re leaving for Zhangyang early tomorrow, yet here I am, keeping you up looking over accounts instead of giving you a proper send-off.”
“Between us, is that necessary?” Lu Chang leaned down, his lips brushing against her temple where a faint pink scar resided.
“Stop it, that tickles!” she giggled, turning her face away.
Lu Chang cupped her face, his lips grazing her cheek before capturing her mouth.
Ming Shu whimpered softly as he kissed her.
After a long, tender moment, he gently released her, his thumb caressing her lips. “Ming Shu, you should sleep,” he whispered.
Ming Shu draped her arms around his neck, murmuring a soft “Mm” as he lifted her into his arms.
Resigned, Lu Chang carried her back to her chambers, inwardly sighing.
He still had three years to wait.
On the day of departure, the weather was clear and pleasant. Outside the city, peach blossoms had bloomed. The gentle spring breeze scattered pink and white petals across the ground. Occasionally, a horse would gallop by, its hooves kicking up the petals, sending them fluttering into the distance.
“Remember to write to me when you arrive,” Ming Shu instructed. “If you need anything, just let me know, and I’ll have it sent to you. I’ve marked the items in the carriage that are meant as gifts. Keep the rest for yourself, especially the package of emergency medicine. Zhangyang is a poor area with few doctors and limited medicine, so you…”
Ming Shu’s voice trailed off as she sniffled.
Lu Chang smiled as he looked at the fully loaded cart of luggage following the carriage. Originally, he had planned to travel light to Zhangyang, bringing only Lai’an as his page and four personal guards. He had arranged for the rest of his trusted men to stay with Ming Shu and Madam Zeng. His luggage consisted of just a few simple boxes, easily fitting in one carriage. However, Ming Shu had insisted on preparing an entire cart of additional items for him to take along.
Clothes and shoes for all seasons, emergency medicine, writing materials, snacks, and dried food… she had packed almost everything but the house itself.
“I’ll take care of myself,” Lu Chang assured her, never having imagined a day when their roles would reverse, with Ming Shu fretting over his daily needs.
“Zhangyang isn’t a peaceful place,” Ming Shu continued. “As the court-appointed magistrate, you’ll be a target. Please be careful.”
The early spring wind blew cold as it entered their clothes. Lu Chang tightened her cloak around her and said, “The same goes for you. The Jian family business is important, but don’t push yourself too hard.”
Ming Shu nodded, glanced at the sky, and urged him, “Well, we could go on forever. It’s getting late. You… should get going.”
“Then I’m off,” Lu Chang said, squeezing her cold hand before letting go and turning towards the carriage.
But just as he reached the carriage, he heard a sudden call from behind.
“Lu Chang!” Ming Shu came running, throwing herself into his open arms.
Lu Chang held her tightly.
A gust of wind blew, showering them with peach blossoms.
Time flew by, and another year passed from winter to spring.
The Jian family’s gold business had recovered to about eighty percent of its former glory. Ming Shu, ambitious as ever, had already expanded the business to the capital with Wan Tanghui’s help. At the end of the year, she was constantly traveling between Bianjing and Jiangning. She spent only one day of the New Year in Bianjing with Wei Zhuo and Madam Zeng before hurrying back to Jiangning, much to Madam Zeng’s concern.
She and Lu Chang hadn’t seen each other for over a year, communicating only through letters. The pile of correspondence, now thick, was kept locked under her dresser. The key, hidden in her bracelet, allowed her to open and read them whenever she needed comfort.
Throughout the year, news from Zhangyang arrived frequently, mostly good.
Zhangyang was a harsh, poor place where many turned to banditry out of desperation and harbored resentment towards the government. It had seen several uprisings. Although the court had repeatedly sent troops to suppress these rebellions, new ones would always arise. Officials assigned there invariably complained of the difficulties.
After Lu Chang, a seventh-rank junior magistrate, arrived, he implemented several effective measures. He first organized local militias to protect villagers from bandits, then focused on improving water conservancy and agriculture to address the root causes of poverty.
After more than a year, Zhangyang had become significantly more peaceful. Lu Chang’s achievements reached the ears of the emperor, earning imperial praise.
Just as things seemed to be improving, disaster struck in the summer of the following year. A severe drought affected several cities near Zhangyang for months, ruining the autumn harvest. As people’s food reserves dwindled, famine set in. The harsh winter that followed brought both hunger and cold, overwhelming local officials.
Lu Chang was no exception.
“Sir, the granary is almost empty,” an official reported.
Half a month earlier, Lu Chang had ordered the granaries opened for famine relief, but the country’s reserves were limited, barely lasting a month and a half.
“Have the accountant calculate how much silver we have left in the yamen and how much grain we can buy with it,” Lu Chang ordered gravely from behind his desk.
Opening the granaries was no longer sufficient to address the worsening famine. Purchasing grain was now urgent, but Zhangyang had always been poor, with insufficient tax revenue. The yamen’s silver reserves barely covered the county’s regular operations.
“The famine has affected several cities, causing grain prices to soar. Our silver won’t buy much,” an official explained.
“The court’s relief funds and grain haven’t arrived yet. If this continues…” another worried.
Hunger and cold would inevitably lead to unrest, death from starvation and freezing, outbreaks of disease, masses of refugees, and a resurgence of banditry…
As Lu Chang listened to his subordinates’ reports on Zhangyang’s situation, massaging his temples while considering countermeasures, a yamen runner suddenly came with news.
“Magistrate Lu, there’s a lady outside the yamen claiming to be your sister…”
“Sister?” Lu Chang looked up in surprise. He didn’t have a sister, unless… Could it be?
“Quickly, invite her in,” he ordered, standing abruptly.
“Sir, you might want to go out and see for yourself,” the runner said hesitantly. “She’s brought many carts of goods, all parked in front of the yamen.”
Winter was approaching, yet the bright sun still shone upon the earth.
Lu Chang hurried out of the yamen, sweat already forming on his brow after just a few steps. From afar, he spotted several carriages parked outside, their escort flags fluttering in the wind, bearing the characters “Wei Yuan” in bold calligraphy.
Besides the lead carriage stood a familiar face he hadn’t seen in a long time—Zhao Tingyun, the head of the Wei Shun Escort Agency.
Lu Chang hesitated briefly before approaching, greeting Zhao Tingyun with a cupped-hand salute. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, he looked around—but didn’t see Ming Shu.
“Where’s Ming Shu?” he asked Zhao Tingyun.
The only person who could claim to be his sister and hire the Wei Shun Escort Agency had to be Ming Shu.
“Brother, I’m here!” A familiar voice seemed to come from above.
Lu Chang quickly looked up and saw someone perched atop the high-stacked boxes on the carriage, swinging their legs and looking down at him. The sun’s halo radiated behind her head, obscuring her features, but his heart began to race uncontrollably.
“Catch me!” she laughed, jumping down from the boxes.
Lu Chang opened his arms and caught her, exclaiming joyfully, “What brings you here?”
“I missed you, of course!” Ming Shu nuzzled his chest before looking up. “Brother, you’ve lost weight and tanned!”
Lu Chang wore coarse cloth robes and looked more robust, while Ming Shu remained as fair and soft as ever, like a white, tender dumpling.
“Sir, who is this…” one of Lu Chang’s men inquired.
“His sister.”
“My fiancée.”
They spoke simultaneously, giving different answers and confusing the questioner.
Lu Chang glared at Ming Shu before clarifying, “She’s my fiancée, Jian Ming Shu.”
Ming Shu giggled, no longer teasing him.
Lu Chang then looked back at the caravan—it was even longer than he’d first noticed, stretching out of the street. Each carriage was piled high with goods.
“Ming Shu, what’s all this?”
“The Jian family’s silver and grain. Don’t you want it?” Ming Shu tilted her chin up proudly.
She had come to help.
Although Lu Chang never mentioned it in his letters, news of Zhangyang’s severe drought had reached her ears, and she had ways of learning about the current situation.
“Ming Shu…” Lu Chang stared at the long line of carriages, speechless.
The sun remained scorching as Lu Chang ordered his subordinates to receive and distribute the timely relief supplies. He led Ming Shu to the shade of a tree.
Her face was already flushed from the sun.
Lu Chang gently wiped the sweat from her brow with his sleeve, saying, “Don’t mind the dirt. I just changed into these clothes this morning. They’re just a bit old.”
Ming Shu contentedly enjoyed his attention. When a yamen runner brought tea, she drank a large bowl in one go, exclaiming, “How refreshing!”
Lu Chang stepped back and bowed deeply to her: “Ming Shu, on behalf of the people of Zhangyang, I thank you. You’ve saved many lives.”
Ming Shu stared at him silently for a moment before replying, “Lu Chang, I’m not that noble. I came here for you.”
Warmth filled Lu Chang’s chest, but he remained bowed: “Then Lu Chang… thanks his wife!”
Ming Shu pulled him up, moved close, and whispered something in his ear.
Lu Chang’s heart leaped, and he turned to embrace her tightly.
What she had whispered was—
“Lu Chang, you bring blessings to the people, and I… I’ve come to bring blessings to you!”
She was his little moon.
— End —