Song Jingning sat down, noticing his father's grave expression as he led his mother away.
Recalling his father's earlier odd behavior, his well-defined brows furrowed slightly.
Was there something unusual about Miss Ye's birthday?
The young lady who had been introduced to Song Jingning for a potential match noticed his distracted state and poured him a cup of tea.
"Young Master Song, this tea was brewed by me. Please give it a try."
She did her best to present herself elegantly, her every movement graceful and refined, exuding noble charm.
Yet Song Jingning had no mind to appreciate it, his thoughts drifting toward the private room across from them.
The door to the private room closed.
Cui Xiangyun, seeing Song Mingyu's stern expression, sensed something serious and grew uneasy.
"My lord, what is this important matter you wish to discuss?"
"I've discovered Jingning's true origins."
Cui Xiangyun's hand, reaching for her cup, froze mid-air. Her voice tightened, trembling slightly.
"What?"
"Jingning shares the exact same birth date as Miss Ye. He might very well be the supposedly deceased eldest son of the Tang family!"
He had found the infant by the river.
According to ancient customs, those who died young were considered inauspicious—they could not be buried on high ground, as it would harm the family's fortune. Instead, they were placed in wooden basins and set adrift on the river, symbolizing the banishment of misfortune.
The coincidence was too striking to ignore.
Cui Xiangyun refused to believe it, unwilling to accept the truth.
"It's just a coincidence."
Song Mingyu understood his wife's struggle.
Jingning was the child she had poured all her love into, raising him with care and pride.
But avoiding the truth wouldn't solve anything.
Ye Chutang already had suspicions—sooner or later, the truth would come out.
"Xiangyun, if you saw Miss Ye, you'd know it’s no mere coincidence."
The same features, the same birth date—one abandoned, the other found—and that river was the only natural waterway passing through the capital.
Song Jingning was Ye Chutang's twin brother!
Meeting Song Mingyu's resolute gaze, Cui Xiangyun's eyes reddened.
"My lord, how did you find out? Does anyone else know?"
She couldn’t bear the thought of losing the child she had raised from infancy.
"Only I know for now. But Miss Ye has been suspicious for a while—she even tested Jingning once. We can’t hide this forever."
"What do you intend to do? Send Jingning back to the Minister's Mansion, return him to that scoundrel Ye Jingchuan?"
Cui Xiangyun knew the common folk stood no chance against officials. Only in her anger would she dare insult a high-ranking court official.
Song Mingyu poured his wife a cup of cool tea.
"Don’t get worked up. I never said I’d return him to Ye Jingchuan. I just think Miss Ye deserves to know the truth—she’s suffered enough."
"How could a man like Ye Jingchuan father two such outstanding children?"
"They must take after Tang Wanning."
Remembering Tang Wanning's kind-hearted nature, Cui Xiangyun relented slightly.
"After Miss Ye’s wedding, we’ll speak with her. If Jingning truly is the Tang family’s eldest son, we’ll tell him the truth and let him decide."
"Agreed."
Ye Chutang had just finished teaching calligraphy for an hour at Huating Academy.
The students Song Zhiyan had selected all showed genuine interest and talent, making noticeable progress.
"If you practice diligently using the techniques I taught, you’ll surely excel in calligraphy."
With that, she left the classroom and headed to the main hall.
Jun'er had long since completed his entrance examination.
While waiting for Ye Chutang, he sat in the hall, flipping through the books he would soon study.
The moment he saw her, he set the book aside and ran over.
"Elder Sister, I passed! I can start school anytime."
"Well done! I’ll cook something special for you tonight."
Jun'er loved Ye Chutang’s cooking and nodded eagerly. "I’ll help you prepare it."
"Wait here a little longer, Jun'er. I need to speak with Dean Song first."
Zigui escorted Ye Chutang to Song Zhiyan’s study.
Song Zhiyan stood and poured her a cup of tea. "Miss Ye, were the students manageable?"
"The ones you selected are excellent. With dedication, they’ll achieve great things in calligraphy."
"Truly historic calligraphy is always paired with great poetry. If even one or two of them manage that, it would be a blessing."
Then he asked, "Was there something you wished to discuss?"
"I’d prefer to speak privately."
"Everyone, leave us. Ensure no one disturbs us."
"Yes, Dean."
Zigui was the last to exit, carefully closing the door behind him.
Ye Chutang spoke. "I’d like Jun'er to begin boarding at the academy after my wedding."
Though puzzled, Song Zhiyan didn’t press further.
"That can be arranged. But as I recall, you mentioned your brother’s health isn’t the strongest."
"Exactly. That’s why I’d like him to stay in your courtyard, under a maid’s care."
"Miss Ye, that goes against academy rules."
She lifted her teacup, smiling. "Then I ask you to bend the rules—because I have a reason you can’t refuse."
Song Zhiyan raised a brow. "And what might that be?"
"I can help you complete the missing mathematical formulas in your arithmetic hall."
On her way back from the painting hall, Ye Chutang had passed the arithmetic hall.
She’d seen the large multiplication table on the wall, along with formulas for calculating areas and volumes of various shapes.
The Song family ancestor who had traveled through time likely struggled with mathematics—many formulas were left blank.
Song Zhiyan studied her, his deep eyes like still, cold pools, unreadable.
"You’re serious?"
"I never lie to good people. So, Dean Song, are you willing to break the rules?"
He chuckled. "I’ve already bent them once for you."
What was one more?
Ye Chutang drained her cup and stood.
"Dean Song, let’s go—to the arithmetic hall."
There, she not only filled in the missing formulas but also added new ones as a bonus.
She even taught faster multiplication techniques and simplified calculations.
As the dean of Huating Academy, Song Zhiyan was naturally brilliant.
Though he didn’t grasp everything immediately, he committed it all to memory for later study.
Ye Chutang added, "If there’s a chance, I’ll teach you methods for calculating irregular shapes—extremely useful for land measurement."
Mastering calculus required a strong foundation and detailed instruction—just knowing the formulas wasn’t enough.
Song Zhiyan caught her implication, his expression shifting.
He shut the classroom door firmly, his tone grave.
"Miss Ye, is something going to happen at your wedding with Prince Chen?"
Had the emperor finally decided to move against the Qi family?
Ye Chutang met his tense gaze but remained silent.
She barely knew Song Zhiyan—her understanding of him came from rumors. Trust didn’t come easily.
Song Zhiyan pressed urgently, "Tell Prince Chen this—if he plans to rebel, the Song family will support him."
Ye Chutang frowned in confusion.
"‘Stay out of court, avoid power struggles’—isn’t that the Song family motto?"
"It is. But there’s another: ‘In turbulent times, only by choosing a wise ruler can one stand firm.’"
Dynasties rose and fell—no one could remain untouched.
The Song family had endured for three centuries precisely because they always backed the right ruler, subtly aiding their rise.
Seeing his sincerity, Ye Chutang relented slightly.
She gave him a hint.
"Prince Chen cares deeply for the people and would never rebel, but he has ways to handle danger. Dean Song need not worry."
Song Zhiyan asked again, "If there’s no danger, why is Miss Ye sending your younger brother to Huating Academy?"
Could it be that the trouble isn’t with Prince Chen’s estate, but the Minister's Mansion?
That shouldn’t be the case. Ye Jingchuan has shallow roots in the court and is a favored minister—the emperor has no reason to target him.
Ye Chutang watched Song Zhiyan’s furrowed brows and smiled faintly.
"You’ll know the reason on the day of the wedding."
"How long will your brother be staying in my courtyard?"
"At least three years, possibly five. Dean Song only needs to provide lodging. Jun'er’s meals will be taken care of by his maid."
Song Zhiyan agreed. "Very well. I’ll ensure his safety within the academy."
Once settled, Ye Chutang took Jun'er and left the academy, returning to the Minister's Mansion.
Ye Jingchuan had already silenced the servants—not a whisper of the theft in the mansion had leaked.
To keep Ye Anling from causing trouble, he promised her two of the most profitable shops.
Ye Anling agreed immediately.
It wasn’t for the shops, but to humiliate Ye Chutang by exposing the stolen dowry on her wedding day!
Ye Chutang didn’t see Ye Anling as a rival at all.
Hearing she had returned empty-handed to the palace, she chuckled. "The Xishou Palace will surely be lively tonight."
Then she called Jun'er and Le'er into the side room.
"Le'er, if Jun'er were to leave the Ye family, would you stay or continue caring for him?"
Though she didn’t fully grasp the meaning, Le'er didn’t hesitate. "This servant will follow Young Master and care for him always."
"Take good care of his daily needs. I’ll pay you five taels a month, and in ten years, I’ll return your indenture."
Le'er immediately knelt and kowtowed. "This servant thanks the Eldest Miss!"
She was only thirteen now—ten years later, she’d still be young.
By then, she’d have silver and her freedom. The thought alone delighted her.
Ye Chutang warned, "If you betray Jun'er, I’ll make you wish for death."
"This servant swears on my life—I will never betray Young Master!"
"Leave now. I have words for Jun'er alone."
Once Le'er was gone, Ye Chutang explained his stay at Huating Academy.
"Besides Le'er, I’ll assign you a bodyguard."
Jun'er sensed something amiss, his small face tense. "Eldest Sister, has something happened?"
"Yes, I’ll be leaving the capital for a while. Focus on your studies."
"How long will you be gone? Will you return? Can I go with you?"
Ye Chutang held his hand. "You’re still young—studies come first. Of course I’ll return, but I don’t know when."
Tears welled in Jun'er’s eyes. "Can I write to you?"
He wanted to know where she was, if she was well.
Even if she never returned, once he grew up, he’d know where to find her.
Ye Chutang nodded. "Of course. Once I’m settled, I’ll write and test your studies."
"Promise?"
"Promise!"
After they pinky-swore, Ye Chutang left to see Old Madam Ye.
The Minister's Mansion’s household was under her control—all servant indentures were in her hands.
Grudgingly, Old Madam Ye handed over Le'er’s indenture. "Another thirty taels wasted."
Ye Chutang ignored her, taking the indenture and leaving.
Back in Ningchu Courtyard, she gave it to Jun'er.
"Keep it safe. If Le'er remains loyal and you no longer need her, you may free her early."
"Jun'er understands."
"Let me make your favorite dishes."
After dinner, Ye Chutang scaled the mansion’s wall.
With exile looming, she had to settle everything quickly.
She went to Guangjuxuan.
Entering through the back, she showed Qi Yanzhou’s black jade token to meet the shopkeeper.
In a private room, she stated her purpose plainly.
"I need a highly skilled guard for Ye Anjun—to protect him and teach him martial arts for three years."
"This subordinate obeys. Arrangements will be made shortly."
His master was Qi Yanzhou—or anyone bearing the "Prince Chen’s Token."
"Send a trustworthy man to coordinate with Shopkeeper Lin of Xinglin Hall. Also, arrange escorts for the medicinal convoy to the northwest. The exact destination awaits His Highness’s orders."
"This subordinate obeys."
Ye Chutang handed over fifty thousand taels in prepared banknotes.
"This covers the deposit and transport fees. Pay each escort one hundred taels, and keep detailed records."
The notes ranged from large to small denominations, forming a thick stack.
The shopkeeper accepted them respectfully. "This subordinate obeys."
Once arrangements were made, Ye Chutang left and returned to Ningchu Courtyard.
She practiced martial arts, meditated, then bathed.
Jinzhi prepared hot water, fretting. "Miss, you’re with child—don’t overexert yourself."
"Aunt Jin, I’ve finished my tasks. Tomorrow, I’ll rest and embroider the bridal veil."
Yet at dawn, Ye Chutang was already dressed and waiting at the market.
She bought every vendor’s stock, storing it in her spatial pouch.
Under their stunned gazes, she rasped in an aged voice,
"I am the ‘Ghost Thief.’ Take your silver and stay silent, or else—"
She drew a finger across her throat.
The vendors trembled. "W-we won’t speak! Not a word!"
"Come tomorrow with more goods. I’ll buy in the woods outside the city."
"Y-yes, of course!"
Perhaps the "Ghost Thief" moniker was too terrifying—the vendors left quietly, causing no stir.
Ye Chutang cleared the entire market.
As for livestock, she killed them and stored the meat.
