Outside the palace.
Song Chuyu peered through a gap in the carriage curtain, watching her father emerge from the distance with Lin Qingyuan in tow.
Lin Qingyuan looked over sharply, keenly noticing the movement. Through the corner of the curtain, she appeared ethereal and dreamlike. Lin Qingyuan instinctively nodded to himself: It's done.
Seeing this, Song Chuyu let the curtain fall. The matter was settled. She hoped his path ahead would be free of obstacles and that he would be respected. Even if only for appearances, everyone should put on a good show.
Song Chengyi stopped walking: "How about a position as Vice Director of the Ministry of Works?" A fourth-rank official—barely worthy of his daughter.
Lin Qingyuan withdrew his gaze, the corner of his eye twitching. Without inquiring about his capabilities or expertise, he was directly offered a fourth-rank position: "Replying to the General, a mere Clerk in the Ministry of Works would suffice."
Song Chengyi snorted coldly: "A seventh-rank petty official, doing odd jobs for others. What future is there in that?"
With the Duke as his backing, what official position wouldn't have prospects? "The Duke's reprimand is justified. This commoner relies entirely on the Duke's patronage."
…
Kang Rui bid farewell to his colleagues and had just stepped through the gate when he stepped right into chicken droppings.
Seven or eight chickens had escaped their coop and were clucking around the courtyard, scattering feathers and excrement everywhere. A rooster, startled, flapped onto him, covering his clothes in filth.
Kang Rui was furious.
A fellow eighth-rank Hanlin academic emerged from his room, brimming with enthusiasm: "Number One Scholar Kang, you're back! Relatives from my hometown visited and brought plenty of chickens and ducks. We're stewing chicken tonight—join us!" His tone was boastful and proud.
Kang Rui was utterly speechless. Just a few chickens—as if the government office was short on food or drink. The courtyard was littered with them.
"Lord Kang, I saved the chicken droppings for you. You can use them for gardening," the man said, as if offering a treasure others would covet.
Kang Rui had never been courted with chicken manure before: "Thank you, but that won't be necessary."
"Nonsense, don't be polite with me! I'll gather it up and pile it under your window. Come by for soup tonight!" Delighted, he carried the chicken coop to the backyard.
Kang Rui looked at the filth on his clothes and shoes, took a deep breath, and suppressed his disgust as he headed to his room to change.
His gray coarse-cloth robe was missing a button. Kang Rui felt the urge to smash the teacup on the table but restrained himself. It was the only item he'd acquired after taking office, essential for entertaining colleagues. If broken, it would be gone.
Defeated, Kang Rui sat on his bed, taking in the entirety of his shabby room at a glance. Gone were the golden threads, silks, brocades, and treasures of the past—he had nothing now.
The laundry service woman living in the rear certainly didn't adjust her washing methods for different fabrics, lacking any skill whatsoever.
The servants in a proper mansion would be more meticulous. He should consider increasing their monthly allowances in the future.
Kang Rui thought of the Empress Dowager's sudden departure from the banquet, feeling somewhat uneasy. But he quickly reassured himself, as Chuyu had mentioned she'd noticed him long ago.
Besides, their relationship over the years hadn't relied solely on the Empress Dowager's matchmaking. He wondered what she was doing now?
A smile touched Kang Rui's lips: She was probably complaining that the mansion's meals weren't as delicious as the palace's, the pastries not flaky enough, the jewelry not novel enough. She was always hard to please.
Soon, in just one month, the Empress Dowager would issue the decree for their marriage, and they could meet again.
"Lord Kang! Are you there, Lord Kang! The bookstore wants you to settle your account when you have time! They said your calligraphy and paintings sell the best! They want you to copy more!"
Kang Rui's face darkened with rage. Did they have to announce to the entire courtyard that he was selling his artwork?
The messenger beamed with genuine joy upon seeing Kang Rui emerge, truly happy for him. Only a Number One Scholar could receive such treatment—even if they wanted to copy books for the bookstore, they couldn’t earn as much as Kang Rui.
“Thank you for your trouble, Brother Wang.”
“It’s nothing, nothing. Just remember to keep track. I’ll be off now.”
…
The day before the Start of Winter, the Anguo Duke Mansion quietly arranged the marriage of their legitimate daughter to Lin Qingyuan, a minor seventh-rank official in the Ministry of Works.
Those who heard the news were baffled: “Who? Who is Lin Qingyuan? A newly appointed scholar? An influential figure from outside the capital?”
Those who knew Lin Qingyuan were even more incredulous: “Is this a joke?”
The Anguo Duke Mansion released a statement through the side gate, explaining that during the Autumn Frost Banquet, the Princess had encountered danger but was fortunately rescued by Lord Lin. The Duke praised his character and arranged the marriage.
This effectively blocked the Princess’s avenue for making an issue of it, as she had been the one who kept the Princess that evening but failed to personally arrange for her escort, leading to the danger. If the Anguo Duke Mansion pursued the matter, she would be held accountable.
Now, because of this, the Princess was marrying beneath her station. The Princess would have to contribute to the wedding dowry, and if public opinion turned harsh, she would also have to suppress it—otherwise, her offense would be compounded.
If her offense worsened, the Emperor would be implicated. As siblings, who could say whether the Emperor had given his approval? No one could claim innocence.
The two legitimate elder brothers of the Song family were furious: “Father! Mother! Have you lost your minds? What kind of person is worthy of marrying our sister!”
Madam Song, still fuming and nursing a headache, retorted, “Your father arranged this without consulting me—not to mention choosing someone I’ve never even heard of! This is going to be the death of me! Go ask your father!”
Song Chengyi snorted coldly, “What else could we do? The imperial selection is about to begin.”
“But it can’t be this Lin Qingyuan!”
“Just treat him as dead! It’s not like you’ll have to see him every day.”
Madam Song’s headache worsened. “He’s marrying my daughter! If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t care who he was!”
Duke Song disagreed, “It’s the daughter who is marrying him.”
“You’re just talking nonsense! To the outside world, it’s still a marriage!”
“Outwardly, yes, but privately you can set your own rules—keep him out of the mansion, forbid him from seeing our daughter, refuse to acknowledge him. It’s entirely up to you. Would I really get angry with you over him? Over such a trivial matter? Look how worked up you’ve become.”
Madam Song choked on her breath, nearly fainting from rage. What preposterous nonsense!