The night was as deep as still water.
In the study, a small flame flickered, its light diffused and hazy through the green gauze shade.
Lu Jiaxue sat silently, eyes closed, resting against his chair.
Cheng Lang entered, slowly approaching Lu Jiaxue, and addressed him as “Uncle.”
Upon learning of Lu Jiaxue’s safety, Cheng Lang realized his plan had failed. He had prepared himself for Lu Jiaxue’s retribution, knowing the man wouldn’t tolerate betrayal.
Lu Jiaxue opened his eyes and spoke, “When your mother married into the Cheng family as a concubine, she clung to me, weeping. Out of love for her, once I became Commander, I immediately forced the Cheng family to elevate her status and secure a good birth for you. I paved the way for your smooth career. Is this how you repay me?”
Cheng Lang immediately knelt, his robes sweeping the floor in a fluid motion.
“Uncle, you misunderstand. I never intended for others to find out. The information leaked accidentally that day…”
Before he could finish, Lu Jiaxue approached and delivered a harsh slap across his face.
Cheng Lang endured it silently, his expression unchanged.
“That’s for betraying my kindness,” Lu Jiaxue said coldly, looking down at him. “With your caution, Cheng Lang, how could information leak accidentally?”
Cheng Lang’s face remained impassive as he continued, “If Uncle doesn’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do. Even the most careful person can make mistakes…”
“If not for you being your mother’s only son, I would have ruined you already,” Lu Jiaxue stated. “Get up. If I catch you scheming again, don’t expect mercy. Even if your mother begs, I won’t spare you.”
Cheng Lang acknowledged with a “Yes” and left the study. Outside, a chill ran down his spine—he had narrowly escaped disaster.
He hadn’t realized Lu Jiaxue had been wary of him all along.
Wei Ling saw Cheng Lang leave and entered to discuss the future court arrangements with Lu Jiaxue. They continued until midnight when news arrived from the palace that everything was settled. Lu Jiaxue then left for the Marquis of Ningyan’s residence, while Wei Ling went to check on Yining.
Learning she was asleep, he stood at her door for a moment before leaving.
The next morning, Yining went about her routine as usual, acting as if she had never encountered Lu Jiaxue. Upon inquiry, she learned Lu Jiaxue had left the Duke of Ying’s residence, which brought her relief.
Two days later, the household office delivered New Year supplies: cakes, candies, red paper, and gold foil. Yining spent time with Ting, cutting paper decorations. On the eve of the thirtieth, news finally came from the palace: the Emperor had passed away after a long illness. Lu Jiaxue had already led troops into the Crown Prince’s residence for protection. However, news of the eldest prince’s demise hadn’t yet been announced.
This wasn’t crucial; with the Emperor’s death, the Crown Prince’s ascension was already legitimate. The timing of the eldest prince’s death announcement was inconsequential.
Wei Ling became even busier, with frequent midnight visitors. He would rest for mere hours before heading to the palace or military camp. Seeing his exhaustion and noting Wei Lao Taitai’s deteriorating health as the New Year approached, Yining voluntarily took charge of the Duke of Ying household’s New Year reception duties. This kept her occupied as well. Though the Duke’s family was small, their household was grand, with three to four hundred servants, not counting the external farms and shops.
With the court in turmoil, everyone was busy. Cheng Lang had no time to tutor Ting or pay respects to Wei Lao Taitai. The old lady was anxious about Zhao Mingzhu’s unsettled marriage, but there was little she could do—you can’t force a good horse to lower its head, and who would agree if pressured?
Zhao Mingzhu wasn’t in a hurry. Remembering Wei Lao Taitai’s advice to curry favor with Yining, she brought Shen Jiarou, the daughter of the Marquis of Zhongqin, to visit Yining in the East Garden. They found Yining meeting with estate managers.
During the New Year, external managers would come to pay respects to their employers, bringing gifts like cured chicken and duck. Those with deeper pockets might offer golden pheasants and ginseng. Yining received them, inquiring about the year’s performance of shops and farms. Her years of experience, especially alongside Luo Shengyuan, made her difficult to deceive.
From behind a beaded curtain, Zhao Mingzhu overheard Yining saying, “Last year’s income was 4,000 taels, but this year it’s down by 30%. The manager claims it’s due to drought, but others’ yields haven’t decreased this much.”
The manager, sweating profusely, explained, “Young Miss, it’s because our land is higher, so rainwater doesn’t stay. The drought hit us harder!”
“Then don’t return yet,” Yining continued. “After the New Year, I’ll send someone to inspect with you. You may go now.” She closed her tea cup lid.
The managers and housekeepers outside heard this exchange. The young miss spoke gently but was not easily fooled. Her sharp eyes suggested she was well-versed in reading and writing. Minor alterations to the account books wouldn’t escape her notice. Any losses would need thorough justification.
Zhao Mingzhu’s expression soured upon hearing Yining addressed as “Young Miss.” Beside her, Shen Jiarou exclaimed, “Your family’s young miss is so impressive! We don’t have anyone like that at home!”
Zhao Mingzhu felt a lump in her throat.
Of course, Yining was impressive—she was the only young lady of the Duke of Ying’s household. Initially timid, she had grown increasingly poised over time. Whether dealing with managers or accompanying Wei Lao Taitai in social circles, she never appeared out of place, always graceful and appropriate. People praised her for being even more refined than those raised as noble ladies from birth… Wasn’t this a slap in Zhao Mingzhu’s face?
She wished she could command such respect, but these external managers and servants didn’t show the same deference to her, a fostered young lady. Luo Yining could summon these people at will. The Duke of Ying had undoubtedly instructed them: “Yining’s words are my words. If I hear of any disrespect towards her from you, you’ll be immediately expelled from the Duke’s household.” With the Duke’s backing, naturally, no one dared offend her.
Despite remembering Wei Lao Taitai’s advice, Zhao Mingzhu left the East Garden with Shen Jiarou, feeling uneasy and uncomfortable.
She asked Shen Jiarou, “Has your brother’s marriage been arranged?”
Shen Jiarou shook her head, “He’s so stubborn. No one can persuade him.”
Shen Jiarou recalled her brother’s reaction when their mother brought up his marriage. He’d press his lips tightly, refusing to speak. The Marchioness of Zhongqin threatened punishment before he finally agreed to speak privately with her. When they emerged, the Marchioness looked content and happy, no longer pressing him for a decision. Finding it odd, Shen Jiarou had asked, “Mother, what did brother tell you?”
The Marchioness had glared at her, saying, “Don’t ask!” Then she took her son’s birth chart to visit the Marquis of Dingbei’s old madam.
Shen Jiarou wondered what her mother was up to.
Yining finished meeting with the managers. On New Year’s Eve, due to the Emperor’s recent passing and the period of national mourning, the household wasn’t particularly festive. Wei Ling was still occupied with official duties. Yining shared a meal with Wei Lao Taitai, while Ting lingered, chatting with the old lady, who happily rewarded him with a large red envelope.
Back in the East Garden, Ting ran to the daybed, eagerly opening his red envelopes. They contained gold and silver nuggets, with Wei Lao Taitai’s envelope holding several 20-tael silver notes. Yining estimated it totaled over 200 taels and asked Madam Tong to store it safely in a small box. Though they couldn’t play at Wei Lao Taitai’s, back in Yining’s quarters, the table was laden with dried fruits and preserved sweets, which the siblings enjoyed. Ting wanted to set off firecrackers, but it wasn’t allowed this year. Seeing his disappointment, Yining brought out gold foil paper to cut out little figures to entertain him.
Children’s New Year’s Eve celebrations are always lively, but soon Ting fell asleep in Yining’s arms. She yawned several times but, wanting to wait for Wei Ling’s return, forced herself to stay awake.
Wei Ling had just finished dealing with the eldest prince’s remaining followers alongside Lu Jiaxue. The Crown Prince had personally ordered poisoned wine for Noble Consort Shu to end her life. She had wept, refusing to drink, but the eunuchs forced it down her throat. Having finally settled matters, Wei Ling rushed home. Arriving at Yining’s quarters, he found the girl dozing against a pillow, while Madam Tong had quietly carried Ting away.
Thinking of how this young girl had managed the vast household for the past few days, Wei Ling felt a pang of sympathy. As he approached, she stirred, awakened by the movement, and asked Zhenzhu, “Has the New Year’s Eve vigil time passed?”
If it had, she could go to sleep.
Wei Ling stroked her head, chuckling, “Not yet.”
Yining realized Wei Ling had returned. Hearing he hadn’t eaten, she asked for fermented rice wine to be brought. She then inquired, “I heard the Crown Prince will ascend the throne after the New Year?”
Even ladies in the inner quarters weren’t completely unaware of court changes. Wei Ling, unsuspicious, explained to Yining, “Yes, he’ll ascend after the New Year, changing the era name to Zhide.” With the country lacking a ruler, a swift ascension was crucial. Wei Ling continued, “The coronation date has been set. This year’s spring imperial examinations might even be brought forward.”
Traditionally, a new emperor’s ascension would include a special examination, but since it coincided with the regular spring examinations, several senior officials had decided to advance it by over a month.
Yining paused, realizing that tomorrow would mark the first year of Zhide.
Her third brother had been the third-place winner in the first year of Zhide and had risen to Vice Minister of Personnel by the fourth year, greatly favored by Deputy Grand Secretary Xu Gong. Would she soon witness her third brother’s rise to fame?
Wei Ling stayed with his daughter for the New Year’s Eve vigil before retiring to rest.
Yining, however, couldn’t sleep. After some thought, she had Songzhi light a lamp and wrote a letter to her third brother: “…With the spring examinations approaching, I hope you achieve a good ranking. How is Mother? I haven’t received your letter—did I get a brother or a sister? I’m eager to know.” After a moment’s consideration, she added, “At twenty-one, you should be considering marriage. Have you taken a liking to any young lady?”
Yining instructed a servant to send the letter to Baoding, but it ended up in Wei Ling’s hands. After reading it, he pondered for a moment before telling the messenger, “There’s no need to intercept letters from the Luo family anymore.” He handed Yining’s freshly written letter back to the messenger, saying, “Don’t send it to Baoding. Deliver it to the residence of Reader-in-Waiting Sun instead.”
The messenger took the letter and left.