It was already August. Though beneath the sun it was hot enough to roast sweet potatoes, behind Yuan Mansion the land was open to the sky, with groves of trees and clusters of grass. Wind beneath the canopy of shade cooled considerably, blowing over those officials who felt very carefree and comfortable. Though the host was absent, they still had beauties in their arms, their laughter reaching directly into Yuan Cheng’s ears.
Eating this way, the problem of rabbit infestation should be resolved, right? A flash of dark light crossed his eyes, and the false smile that had originally faded suddenly became quite meaningful. This roasted rabbit method of Mo Zi’s was truly very useful.
“My lord, Third Young Master has sent you a card and also a gift.” Ming Nian respectfully handed the card to Yuan Cheng while tilting his body to carefully place the wooden box tucked under his arm on the stone table. After all, lacking one arm, he appeared more clumsy than ordinary people.
Yuan Cheng waited for him. Only after he stood straight again did Yuan Cheng sit on the stone bench and begin reading the card.
At moments like these, Ming Nian’s heart was especially glad he’d followed a good master. Though it seemed a small matter, he could feel the lord’s respect for him. He remembered when he’d first arrived and done the same thing, being watched like this, he’d thought his clumsy movements disgusted the lord. Until one time when he couldn’t hold something well and couldn’t set it down, the lord had asked if he needed help. Only then did he realize it wasn’t disgust at his clumsiness but readiness to help when necessary. Previously working odd jobs at the Imperial Academy, when passing things around, who would help him? The slightest carelessness, dropping something, meant a beating and scolding. Meeting such a master, how could he not be utterly devoted?
“My lord, why is Third Young Master’s card so much smaller than others’?” Ming Nian saw Yuan Cheng turn over that card smaller than half a palm.
“His thoughts are always somewhat different from others.” Yuan Cheng casually answered his personal attendant’s question, his gaze not leaving the small calling card in his hand.
One corner of the front hung a vivid red cornelian cherry blossom, with river water drawn below and a sail on the river, with the four characters “Hongyu Shipyard” written there. The reverse side had a white background with ink lines, uneven but looking quite good. Several lines of small purple characters in semi-cursive script, with the six characters “Mo Ge, Hongyu Manager” most prominent. The last line detailed which direction from which city gate, how many li along which official road, passing which village to reach which river bend—remarkably, as he looked at it, he discovered those ink lines weren’t meaningless but rather a simple map, with the locations mentioned in the last line marked in light gray characters.
Mo Zi felt ordinary calling cards were too large—keeping them in sleeves took up space, and pouches couldn’t be made so large. Moreover, she was only a manager, not an employer—making them business-card-sized seemed more “modest.”
The problem was that while she thought quite “modestly,” her sworn elder brother was not modest at all. He actually imitated this style of calling card, using more expensive paper supplemented with famous calligrapher’s writing and paintings to make himself a stack, scattering them to people like flower petals. Immediately after, Young Master Jin of Jin Yin Bank also began using such small cards, distributing them widely.
These cards even led Yuan Cheng to give them an extremely elegant name—Zhizhou Cards.
With Yuan Cheng and Jin Yin—one official, one merchant—using Zhizhou Cards, and being small and easy to carry, they stirred up a whirlwind in the capital’s paper industry, quickly sweeping the nation to become the most commonly used calling cards among officials and nobles. Not only fashionable, they were also passed down to later generations.
On a certain day not long after, when Mo Zi exchanged calling cards with a major client, the other party produced a gold-leafed Zhizhou Card, proudly introducing how it was made by which famous treasure shop in the capital, with calligraphy and paintings personally copied by which master. She was dumbstruck and broke into a sweat on the spot, not knowing whether she should accept this gold business card.
Then she learned that these cards she’d made on a whim had not only gained a name but were being mass-produced in collaboration by a certain First Young Master and Second Young Master, earning them a fortune. So she rushed to find the two to protest, firmly demanding—profit sharing.
But back to Yuan Cheng. Tucking Mo Zi’s calling card into his flowing sleeve, while thinking this little card was truly convenient, he picked up the wooden box on the table and smiled at the sight of it.
The wooden box had no fancy decorations—just good workmanship with no rough spots, smooth to the touch, but not even lacquered.
He smiled because of the two characters carved on the box lid—
Heart’s Intent.
He’d told Mo Zi that if she needed his help, no need to send gifts beforehand—just give him a token of heart’s intent afterward. Not long ago, he’d sent her Physician Hua and his wife along with Luo Ying, saving her once more. Now she was sending heart’s intent?
He noticed Ming Nian’s neck stretching long, and he himself had to admit he was truly very curious about her heart’s intent.
A flick of his fingertip and the box clasp opened. Lifting his finger again, a gap appeared in the lid.
Immediately, floral fragrance assailed them.
Ming Nian’s eyes lit up as he involuntarily said how fragrant it was.
Opening the box lid completely, he heard Ming Nian make a long sound of wonder, while his own gaze grew intent.
A box full of dried flower petals, white as snow, without a trace of other color. Having attended flower viewings every year since entering officialdom, he knew these were white peonies. Among the dried white peony petals rested one blooming large white flower. Unlike the single petals of peonies, the petals were layered like pavilions and towers, trembling slightly in the wind, yet so graceful and magnificent.
King of flowers, national beauty and heavenly fragrance—a tree peony.
The fragrance attracted two colorful butterflies flying outside the pavilion, lingering reluctantly on the white tree peony.
Though Ming Nian found the petals and flower in this box extraordinarily beautiful, he said, “Why would Third Young Master send my lord flowers?” A woman sending a man flowers truly made little sense.
His thoughts suddenly went astray. He immediately widened his eyes, speaking with a stutter. “My… my… my lord…” It couldn’t be, right? The lord was so handsome—could it be that Third Young Master, no, Miss Mo was expressing admiration?
“Ming Nian, you’re stuttering. Do you need a drink of water?” There was tea in the pavilion. Yuan Cheng poured a cup and pushed it toward Ming Nian.
Seeing Yuan Cheng personally pour tea for him, Ming Nian felt moved inside, saying with his mouth how he dared not trouble the lord, but his hand moved without delay, taking it and drinking it all, then properly setting it back. This was the glory of being a servant!
“Good, continue what you were saying.” Yuan Cheng smiled. “My lord what?”
His slender fingers touched the tree peony in the box, then suddenly paused.
“My lord, forgive my presumption. When I was at the Imperial Academy, I often heard students talk about viewing flowers, picking flowers, wearing them with which young lady or miss—seemingly meaning mutual affection. I thought, I just thought, perhaps Miss Mo…” Speaking out required courage, but glancing at Yuan Cheng, Ming Nian’s courage faltered. Because at this moment, the master seemed not to have heard a single word he’d said.
Yuan Cheng’s hand lifted, lowered, lifted again, lowered again—first his fingertips lightly touching, then two fingers pinching the petals and rubbing, gradually tightening somewhat.
Ming Nian thought to himself that pinching like this, the petals would fall off.
Yuan Cheng suddenly extended both hands, taking the white tree peony from the box. Peony petals fell in profusion, while that tree peony still trembled as wind lightly brushed it, simultaneously becoming brilliantly illuminated by sunlight from outside the pavilion. Though the two butterflies flew away startled by Yuan Cheng’s movement, they circled in the pavilion, seemingly reluctant to leave such fragrance.
“Ming Nian, do you know that tree peonies bloom in the third and fourth months, and at the very latest, no later than the sixth month.” His left hand supporting his head, his right palm cradling that tree peony, light flowing in his eyes as if about to overflow.
“Eh? Though I don’t know in such detail, tree peonies bloom in spring.” The Imperial Academy’s garden had several relatively common varieties of tree peony, and he’d even helped the gardener water them. Thinking to here, Ming Nian was astonished. “That’s not right. Since it’s not flowering season, where did this white tree peony come from?”
Yuan Cheng’s dark brows lifted, his smile deepening further. “Feel it yourself.”
Ming Nian lightly touched the petals, noticing nothing unusual.
“Use some force to rub. If you damage it, I’ll ask your Third Young Master for another one.” Yuan Cheng encouraged him this way. “Since he’s bribing me, naturally he can be more generous.”
Ming Nian also learned from Yuan Cheng, pinching with two fingers, wrinkling his face, then being greatly shocked. He hastily released his hand, pointing at the white tree peony. “My lord, this flower… this flower…”
This time Yuan Cheng didn’t tell Ming Nian to drink water. He only placed the tree peony back in the box, closed the lid, and instructed, “Take Third Young Master’s gift to my room.”
Without waiting for Ming Nian’s response, he left the pavilion, walking toward the banquet beneath the trees where drunkenness was in full swing. The closer he drew to that laughing and shouting, the more slanted his shadow became, both sleeves filled with abundant wind. When he sat down, eyes hazy and face smiling, he was the picture of romantic charm.
“Lords, pardon the wait. My humble mansion has nothing worthy of presentation—please make do.” His voice flowed smoothly, light and quick as a mountain stream.
“Lord Zheng, though the rustic charm of Lord Yuan’s mansion is wonderful, don’t you think the place where a dignified Imperial Academy Erudite resides is rather too shabby?” A half-drunk official glanced toward Yuan Cheng, then said to the official with the goatee.
Others chimed in agreement.
Yuan Cheng hastily apologized, saying he’d wronged the officials.
The goatee belonged to the Minister of Personnel, equivalent to the current head of human resources. Hearing this made sense, eyes gazing at a beautifully colored dancing girl, he spoke without thinking. “I’ll handle this matter. Lord Yuan is a talented scholar praised by His Majesty, certainly a pillar of our Great Zhou in the future—how can we treat him poorly? Even according to sixth-rank status, he must be properly established. However, this rustic charm must be preserved somewhere—otherwise, wouldn’t we lose such carefree roasted meat meals?”
Everyone laughed heartily.
Yuan Cheng agreed, appearing extremely pleased. “Thank you for the lords’ great favor—Yuan will never forget it. However, regarding breaking ground for the official residence, we still need to notify the Ministry of Works. Yuan’s position is minor and rank low, I fear—”
“Lord Yuan need not worry. Minister Jiang of the Ministry of Works and I have deep friendship, and pleasing him is also easy. He most loves collecting wood carvings. If you have an ingeniously crafted wooden piece, send him one, then with me speaking on your behalf, construction will definitely begin immediately.” Lord Zheng was having an extremely good time today.
Yuan Cheng’s true identity was secret. He’d met few Great Zhou officials in Nande. Imperial confidants like the Xiao family had already been ordered to silence, and few people in Nande called him by name, only saying Prime Minister Yuan, Minister Yuan, Teacher Yuan, Corrupt Official Yuan. Therefore, mixing among Great Zhou officials under his real name, many still thought he was a learned and refined scholar-official. With the Emperor providing overwhelming cover behind him, plus his deliberate cultivation of this image, even these high officials found it difficult to connect this Yuan Cheng with Nande’s Prime Minister Yuan.
Yuan Cheng smiled slightly, rising to bow in thanks to the various officials.
In the officials’ eyes, he was truly a refined gentleman. Little did they know this gentleman’s interactions with them were purely false courtesy, and amid cups and beauties he’d already achieved his purpose.
Yuan Cheng sat down. A beauty at his side, with seductive posture, offered him fine wine. He reached to accept it, and the beauty took advantage to press close, her thin transparent gauze dress barely concealing jade peaks and slender waist. He merely glanced lightly, and the beauty was frightened into retreating, yet didn’t dare go too far, sitting beside him with a forced smile.
His fingers toyed with the luminous cup. Surrounding him was only a thread of floral fragrance, lingering long and not dispersing.