A trace of worry crept into Yan Liangrong’s brow. “These are people who have been deliberately approach your brother-in-law these past few days.”
Seeing Yan Tongshu still puzzled, Yan Liangrong added, “They’re all after the position of Records Officer. Though the post is lowly, it serves in the Kaifeng Prefecture.
Matters in Kaifeng Prefecture have never been measured solely by rank, and it’s said that even the lowest official there is treated as superior to those of similar rank elsewhere. Although the previous Prefect was incompetent and the Prefecture has lost some of its former glory, Kaifeng remains a crucial place. That’s why many have their eyes on this position.”
Yan Liangrong stirred the tea leaves in her cup. “Yesterday, while checking your nephew’s lessons, I noticed that his inkstone was made with Pan Valley ink from Shezhou—this ink is known as the ‘Ink Immortal’ and is incredibly rare.
When I asked, I learned that someone had sent a box of brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones while your brother-in-law and I were away. The servants, not understanding its value, accepted it, intending for us to decide what to do after we returned. Besides that, your brother-in-law has also faced many people lobbying him at court. Even when I went to the rouge shop to buy cosmetics, I encountered someone who offered to pay for me.”
Yan Liangrong continued, “The situation at court is complex and unclear. I’ve always lived in the inner quarters, and your brother-in-law holds a minor post, so we don’t have access to much. But these people have impure intentions, as if they want to curry favor. That’s why we haven’t dared to form any ties easily. I’ve already had your brother-in-law return all the gifts sent to our home. I’m here to warn you to be careful and also to reassure you—your brother-in-law and I won’t hold you back.”
Yan Tongshu understood Yan Liangrong’s thoughtful kindness and was moved. “Yes, I understand. Thank you, Sister, for thinking so deeply on my behalf.”
Yan Liangrong smiled. “Well then, I’ll be going back. Your nephew has been slacking on his studies lately, and I need to keep an eye on him.”
Yan Liangrong rose to leave, and Yan Liangyu saw her out.
Once their figures disappeared from view, Lady Yan beckoned to Yan Tongshu.
Yan Tongshu stepped forward slowly. “Mother.”
Lady Yan raised her hand to gently touch her daughter’s face, her fingertips trembling slightly. “You’ve suffered. I’ve dragged you down. If not for me, with your talents, how could you… Tongshu…”
Her voice choked with emotion, but she forced herself to continue, “Tongshu…”
Yan Tongshu took her mother’s hand, her gaze clear and resolute. “Mother, if you have something to say, please speak directly.”
Lady Yan took a deep breath, and the last trace of hesitation in her eyes vanished. “Your sister’s visit today made me see many things clearly. We’re already in this position. Hiding or retreating won’t help. Rather than worrying every day about our family being raided or wiped out, you might as well go ahead and do what you need to do.”
She gripped Yan Tongshu’s hand more firmly, her voice strong. “Your mother and I are your family. Whether we live or die, we face it together—there’s nothing to fear. If anyone dares provoke us, we won’t be afraid of them.”
Yan Tongshu was momentarily choked with emotion and nodded. “Yes, Mother. I understand.”
Meanwhile, Yan Liangyu accompanied Yan Liangrong to the gate. She hesitated for a moment, then softly called out, “Sister.”
Yan Liangrong smiled and asked, “What is it?”
Yan Liangyu clenched her peach-colored embroidered handkerchief until her knuckles turned white. “Sister, are you and Brother-in-law as close as ever?”
“Why do you ask?” Yan Liangrong found the question amusing.
Yan Liangyu lowered her eyes, her voice growing even softer. “It’s just that… Brother-in-law, back then, Father and Mother opposed the match, but you still married him without hesitation. You said he would surely become a man of great promise and rise to the highest ranks. But now, after all these years, hasn’t he disappointed you? Lately, I’ve been wondering, if the person you love keeps letting you down, then what you hold in your heart now—that persistence, that stubbornness—is it really still love?”
Yan Liangrong looked at her calmly. “You’re thinking about your situation with Zhou Zhengxun?”
Yan Liangyu nodded slightly.
Yan Liangrong smiled faintly. “Your question has me stumped for a moment. But now that I think about it, your brother-in-law’s career has indeed been rough these past few years. However, just because someone accumulates strength slowly and rises late in life doesn’t mean it’s impossible—as long as he and I work together, I believe he will succeed.
So, he hasn’t disappointed me. I trust him, and I love him even more. Liangyu, what matters isn’t whether circumstances are favorable—what matters is that husband and wife are of one mind and work together. If someone lets you down, it must mean your hearts have drifted apart, no longer aligned.”
Yan Liangyu was stunned for a moment, as if a fog in her eyes had been partially cleared. “I understand. Thank you, Sister.”
Yan Liangrong said softly, “Be good, go back inside. The wind is strong tonight—don’t catch a cold.”
…
Back in her room, Yan Tongshu collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. Yuanzi the cat heard the noise, mewed, and jumped onto Yan Tongshu’s back.
“Ouch.”
Yan Tongshu grunted softly, reached back, and scooped the calico cat into her arms. “You little stinker, Yuanzi, don’t you know how heavy you are?”
Burying her face in the cat’s soft, warm belly, Yan Tongshu took a few long breaths and then proceeded to shower Yuanzi with affection—ruffling her fluffy fur, squeezing her pink paw pads. Finally, Yuanzi ended up looking like a puffed-up dandelion.
Even after being teased, Yuanzi didn’t struggle. With her round, glasslike eyes wide and gentle, she let Yan Tongshu knead and squeeze her as she pleased, a contented purr rumbling from her throat.
“Oh, how can our Yuanzi be so sweet…”
Yan Tongshu’s heart melted like spring water. “Little Yuanzi, from now on, I swear I’ll never bully you again. Come here, let me give you a kiss.”
Mwah—
She planted several kisses on the cat’s head, then hugged Yuanzi and fell contentedly asleep.
That night, Yan Tongshu dreamed of the Xianlin Academy again.
Every year at the Mid-Autumn Festival, the Xianlin Academy would pause compiling books and give a seven-day holiday.
Colleagues at the Academy would organize an autumn outing, with every family bringing homemade mooncakes to share.
The perpetually gloomy Lord Jiang, a southerner, made mooncakes filled with meat—sweet but not greasy.
Meanwhile, she herself took the lead with her meticulously crafted taro-and-egg-yolk mooncakes.
The Academy colleagues had all sorts of talents.
Lord Feng, with his thick beard, played a mean pipa—like Zhang Fei plucking strings, but the tune was a plaintive frontier ballad, making everyone laugh heartily.
Lord Jiang, the Academy’s director, was masterful at sword dancing and impromptu poetry, capable of composing one in seven steps.
Lord Qu was a master portraitist, virtually a human camera.
She would always dress up splendidly and have Lord Qu ‘take’ various ‘artistic portraits’ of her.
Every painting required ‘retouching’—face slimming, fair and delicate skin, a more slender figure.
Yes, and more of that transcendent gentleman’s aura.
Finally, she would inscribe her name on the painting.
Later, she grew annoyed that Lord Qu’s inscriptions ruined the layout of her artistic portraits, so Lord Qu began blending the characters into the scenery of the portrait, seamlessly integrated—so much so that an outside observer, looking casually, wouldn’t notice anything odd at all.
And later still, she heard that Lord Qu’s paintings had risen to twenty-five silver taels apiece.
The art portraits that her family had pressured Lord Qu into painting for her numbered at least a dozen or two. Once Lord Qu’s paintings appreciated further in value, she could sell them off and make a hefty profit.
Yan Tongshu was enjoying a peaceful, beautiful dream when a knock woke her.
Pearl’s voice came through: “Young Master, it’s time to leave for the morning court.”
Ahhh!
Leaving for work at three or four in the morning, getting off work at eight or nine in the evening, with one day off per month—was she even human?
She was worse than a beast of burden!
Yan Tongshu sat up rigidly in bed, her face like a vengeful ghost’s. She glared viciously at the fruit knife nearby—she wanted to assassinate the emperor!
Just as her mother had told her to go ahead and do as she pleased, today she would go all out: kill that dog emperor and make a name for herself through the ages!
But no matter how much resentment she felt in her heart, she still had to go to “work”—or rather, to court.
Clutching a pillow, Yan Tongshu climbed into her carriage, then promptly slumped onto it and went back to sleep.
At the morning court, Yan Tongshu took the lead in presenting her proposal: that everyone, upon death, must be publicly examined by a government coroner before being allowed burial.
Qin Yi approved.
And then Yan Tongshu started dozing off, her mind wandering to distant places.
The court buzzed with the hum of officials.
Yan Tongshu heard nothing; her soul was already back on that pillow.
Good heavens, when would this tedious, drawn-out meeting ever end!
She wailed internally.
On the throne, Qin Yi leaned on one arm, listening lazily to the reports from the civil and military officials.
Finally, someone brought up the vacancy for the position of Prefectural Recorder of Kaifeng.
His gaze shifted thoughtfully as he looked at Yan Tongshu, whose head was drooping as she clearly drifted off to another world.
Qin Yi narrowed his eyes.
This dull goose had been so lively and animated when eating noodles by the street—why did she look like a ghost who had been dead for fifty years at court, radiating such weariness with the world?
Qin Yi spoke slowly, his tone steady yet clear enough to fill the hall: “Minister Yan, what is your view on this matter?”
The entire court fell silent so profoundly that a dropping pin could be heard.
Huh?
What?
Yan Tongshu looked up, confused.
The Minister of Civil Affairs beside her prompted: “Minister Yan, His Majesty is asking for your opinion on the candidate for Prefectural Recorder.”
This was a matter for the Civil Affairs Ministry—why ask her?
Hadn’t they agreed to let the Ministry assign it?
Yan Tongshu: “Well, Your Majesty, your humble servant is not familiar with the candidates on the list. I don’t know their conduct or their talent. It would be best to leave the appointment to the Ministry of Civil Affairs.”
Trying to stay out of trouble?
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of Qin Yi’s lips: “No matter. Minister Yan can take a look at the list, choose slowly, and pick carefully.”
A hint of mischief glinted in Qin Yi’s eyes, framing a smile brimming with malice.
Though, to other officials, the emperor’s expression seemed no different from usual, Yan Tongshu—entirely subjectively—felt it was steeped in malice and moral depravity.
Qin Yi’s fingers moved, and Lu Xi, who stood in attendance, immediately delivered the list from the Ministry of Civil Affairs respectfully to Yan Tongshu.
Other officials chimed in: “Indeed, Minister Yan. Since the Prefectural Recorder will serve under your command in Kaifeng, you should think this over carefully.”
Their tone carried subtle hints and warnings.
Yan Tongshu gritted her teeth and opened the list.
Oh, wonderful—there were representatives from every faction.
Members of Prince Ming’s faction, the emperor’s faction, Grand Secretary of the Longtu Academy’s faction, and so on.
No matter which one she picked, she would offend someone.
Yan Tongshu raised her eyes and looked around.
Some watched in amusement or judgment; others were issuing warnings or seeking to win her over.
All the ministers had been steeped in officialdom for over a decade, long mastering the art of hiding their emotions. They were certain their expressions and glances were neutral.
But at that moment, tired, hungry, and brimming with resentment, Yan Tongshu—through her “utterly subjective malice”—saw everyone as villains, equally detestable and malicious as Qin Yi, their faces loathsome, their eyes full of venom.
No, even full of poison.
They were all plotting against her, bullying her, forcing her into a corner, weren’t they?
Fine. Very well.
A burst of righteous fury shot straight to Yan Tongshu’s head, burning her courage to a blazing point.
Her mother had said: when others trample on you, don’t be afraid—fight back.
Today! No one would have an easy time!
Today, she would make every civil and military official remember what it meant to be “the upright, the exceedingly upright, the supremely upright Minister Yan!”
Yan Tongshu lifted her head abruptly, her voice striking like metal and stone, resounding through the hall: “Your Majesty!”
This cry, crisp and passionate, was so striking that even Qin Yi sat up, releasing the arm he had been leaning on.
Yan Tongshu raised the candidate list and tore it in one swift, dramatic motion.
Her voice rose, firm and resolute, each word ringing clear: “Your Majesty, your humble servant believes every single name on this list is unsuitable—extremely unsuitable.”
Qin Yi’s interest piqued: “Oh?”
His tone drew out the syllable into a meaningful, elongated cadence: “Then, Minister Yan, what do you think should be done?”
