Nanny Rong widened her eyes and murmured, "Master, the medicine bestowed upon you by Her Majesty the Empress is priceless. How could you..."
Shen Wei didn’t even look up. "Go and prepare it."
After a pause, Shen Wei revealed a faint smile. "Not just De Shun. Ji Xiang, Cai Lian, Cai Ping, and you, Nanny Rong—the five of you are my most trusted. There’s no reason in this world for a master to prosper while their servants suffer."
Nanny Rong’s shoulders trembled slightly, overwhelmed by a surge of emotion and warmth in her heart.
For a moment, her chest swelled with tenderness.
Nanny Rong left to search for the medicinal herbs in the storeroom.
Time passed, and dusk arrived. When Prince Yan returned to his residence, he immediately shut himself in his study, summoning several craftsmen for discussions. Even by dinnertime, he had yet to visit the Glazed Pavilion. Shen Wei had the kitchen prepare a meal and pack it into a food box, which she personally delivered to him.
Prince Yan was still young—he absolutely must not develop stomach problems. If an untreated stomach ailment turned into something worse and he died prematurely, Shen Wei would lose a crucial pillar of support in the mansion.
In her life’s calculations, Prince Yan could only die after her position was firmly secured.
"Your Highness, I’ve brought your dinner," Shen Wei announced as she entered the study, instructing the maids to set the meal on the outer chamber’s table.
After a short wait, the inner door opened, and five or six craftsmen filed out, bowing to Shen Wei before departing.
Prince Yan approached the table, where the maids had already laid out the dishes.
The meal was exquisite, but as he picked up his chopsticks, Shen Wei noticed his absentmindedness. After barely finishing half a bowl of rice, he set his utensils down with a troubled expression.
Curious, Shen Wei asked, "Your Highness, has something troubled you?"
Prince Yan dismissed the maids, leaving only the two of them in the outer chamber.
After a moment’s thought, he retrieved a blueprint and explained, "This is a design submitted by Zhao Qing—a weapon called a compound bow. But she’s an eccentric woman. She provided only the sketch and refuses to participate in its construction."
Previously, with the musket and landmines, Zhao Qing had only offered vague diagrams and material lists.
But when it came to the actual mechanics—the weight distribution of components, the interplay of mechanisms—she remained tight-lipped. Left with no choice, the military craftsmen had to decipher and replicate the weapons through trial and error.
The musket and landmine had been relatively straightforward.
But this compound bow... The sketch was crude, with critical structural details left unexplained. Prince Yan had spent the afternoon consulting craftsmen, yet none could decipher the purpose of the joint mechanisms or how they functioned within the whole.
Frustration gnawed at him.
Zhao Qing was undeniably brilliant, but her temperament was infuriating. Were it not for the Emperor’s favor and the South Garrison Marquis’s protection, Prince Yan would have thrown her into the dungeons and tortured the specifics out of her.
He shared his grievances with Shen Wei merely to vent, never expecting her to provide an answer.
"A... compound bow?" Shen Wei was stunned. Her mind conjured images of sleek, modern compound bows—lightweight yet deadly, capable of piercing steel plates with the right materials.
Zhao Qing had to be from the modern era! If not, she must have access to knowledge of modern weaponry.
Taking the blueprint from Prince Yan, Shen Wei confirmed its crudeness. While the general outline of the bow was there, the joint mechanisms were barely hinted at.
"Look here, Wei Wei," Prince Yan sighed deeply. "The craftsmen can’t figure out what this black component at the joint is supposed to be."
Shen Wei silently mused. Of course, it was a bearing with holes. But Zhao Qing had reduced it to a mere black dot in her sketch.
Feigning contemplation, Shen Wei ventured, "Your Highness, to this humble one, the joint resembles a waterwheel. Perhaps if there were gears, it might rotate?"
She avoided directly naming it as a bearing, instead using the waterwheel as a metaphor.
After all, wasn’t a waterwheel just a large-scale bearing component?
Prince Yan chuckled dismissively. "A waterwheel is massive. How could it resemble this compact bow?"
Shen Wei widened her almond-shaped eyes, feigning indignation at his skepticism. "Your Highness could think of it as a miniature waterwheel!"
Prince Yan laughed. "A miniature waterwheel—"
His words trailed off as realization struck. Having grown up around military machinery, he began mentally reconstructing the bow’s design. If the joint were replaced with small, perforated bearing wheels...
His eyes lit up.
Abandoning his meal, he called for his attendants. "Prepare my horse! I’m heading to the Ministry of War!"
Shen Wei: "..."
In the blink of an eye, the workaholic prince was gone.
Glaring at the untouched meal, Shen Wei gritted her teeth—Starve to death, then!
Knowing Prince Yan, he’d likely bury himself in work for days, perhaps even staying overnight at the Ministry or the Eastern Palace.
But his obsession with duty suited her just fine. Shen Wei leisurely returned to the Glazed Pavilion, looking forward to a peaceful night’s rest.
...
Meanwhile, night draped over the South Garrison Marquis's Mansion.
Tomorrow was the Dowager’s grand birthday celebration, coinciding with Shangguan Xuan’s return. The mansion should have been festive.
Yet the inner hall was thick with tension.
The silver-haired Dowager sat at the center, flanked by her youngest daughter Shangguan Qian and eldest son Shangguan Xuan. The other relatives—uncles, aunts, and juniors—filled the seats around them.
Sun Qingmei stood in the middle, like a prisoner on trial.
Pale but resolute, she repeated, "I refuse to share a husband with Zhao Qing. Nor will I accept co-wife status."
After years of waiting for her husband’s return, she had believed her hardships were over.
Instead, she was met with a crushing blow.
That military advisor, Zhao Qing, was a woman—and she had secretly pledged herself to Shangguan Xuan in Liangzhou. Now, back in the capital, he intended to marry her. Sun Qingmei would not yield.
Shangguan Qian, who had always disliked her sister-in-law, sneered. "Sister-in-law, Zhao Qing is a newly titled viscountess, honored by the Emperor. You? You’re just a daughter of the declining Sun family, with no elders left. Marrying into our mansion was a stroke of luck. And yet you dare to be picky?"
Sun Qingmei remained silent, her gaze fixed on her husband.
Shangguan Xuan spoke coldly. "You’ve served my parents dutifully. If you won’t accept co-wife status, then I’ll have no choice but to demote you to concubine."
Though the law mandated corporal punishment for demoting a wife, he was willing to endure it—for Zhao Qing’s sake.
The Dowager sighed. "Zhao Qing is a viscountess, a model for women. Such a distinguished lady is barely worthy of my son. You, with neither talent, virtue, nor beauty, should be grateful for co-wife status."
The uncles and aunts from the other branches chimed in, all chastising Sun Qingmei for her obstinacy.
"The county princess holds a high status; she's a suitable match for Xuan'er."
"It's just a secondary wife position—you'll still be the principal wife."
"The Sun family raised such a petty-minded daughter."
"Qingmei, you're still young. Women must rely on men to survive—why provoke Xuan'er?"
