Shen Mingyu held the two letters—one from the left and one from the right—and read them carefully.
Aoniang truly lived up to being the person who understood her best; knowing she was concerned about Pei Lang, she had written down all of his current circumstances. Upon learning that Pei Lang was on the examination list, Shen Mingyu was overjoyed to find that he had actually placed third as a provincial scholar!
She recalled how she used to wish that Pei Lang could take the provincial examinations; if he passed as a juren, perhaps he could become a minor official in the county, and their lives would become much better.
She had always believed in Pei Lang; with his ability and talent, he was bound to rise above the common masses, and now he had truly achieved it. It was simply a pity that fate was so full of misdirection and crossed paths; she was no longer by his side.
Shen Mingyu lowered her head and thought—she had found her parents and was living a good life. Pei Lang had also earned official rank and was about to live a good life. These things meant she ought to be happy, and she genuinely wished for Pei Lang to live well. Both of them had endured enough bitterness, and the road they had traveled thus far had been far from easy.
Yet why was it that her heart felt so empty and hollow?
Could it be because Pei Lang had not accepted those three thousand taels?
The young maiden’s fingertips rested against the characters on the letter envelope; Pei Lang was even going to arrange a marriage with the Zhou family. He had let go of the past, and she should let go of the past as well—for Pei Lang to earn official rank and start a new marital union was a good thing. Furthermore, the Zhou family had wanted to form a marital alliance with him from the very beginning, and they still had connections in Pingyang County; if he married Zhou Wan, his path in life ahead would be much smoother.
Recalling the past, when she first married Pei Lang, it was simply because of thirty taels of silver plus the fact that the other party was diligent and capable.
By the same token, the reason Pei Lang married her was also because she was a good wife. They had come together based on practical benefits, and just like that, in confusion and innocence, they had spent a year in a small, ordinary mountain village, treating each other as the most important people in their lives.
Perhaps it had always just been making do to get through life together, and Pei Lang might not have liked her all that much. He was simply a good person who felt she was a suitable match, which was why he treated her well. No matter whom he married, he would have treated them the same way. And now, after parting ways, they had simply returned to the starting point before the two of them were married—they hadn’t taken that initial road, but had instead switched to different paths.
Even though they were not together, both of their lives had turned out better.
Thinking along these lines, Shen Mingyu considered herself to have let go.
Fine, since Pei Lang did not want her money, then so be it; at any rate, her intentions had been fulfilled.
Having figured it all out, she put the letters away in order and silently sealed them.
Right at that moment, the Marchioness entered the room. The Marchioness looked in surprise toward the chest of silver: “He really didn’t want it?”
Shen Mingyu nodded.
The Marchioness gave a strange murmur: “What a truly eccentric person; you give him money and he still doesn’t want it.”
By lunchtime, the maidservants filed in carrying bowls of congee and nourishing broths.
Ever since the physician diagnosed her pregnancy, the Marchioness had no choice but to ruthlessly abandon those rare delicacies of mountain and sea, terrified of causing any mishap to her daughter by letting her eat them.
To this day, she still didn’t know how Yu’er had managed the entire journey from Pingyang County to Bianjing, clearly carrying a child in her belly yet walking on foot for so long. Although Yu’er said she rarely felt any discomfort and sometimes rode on ox carts or donkey carts when her legs grew sore, the Marchioness still felt heartbroken beyond measure. Especially when morning sickness appeared last month, it made the Marchioness realize that no matter how much she favored certain dishes, she could no longer let her eat those foods.
Yu’er had a craving for food, but having never given birth herself, she didn’t understand; how could she, as a mother, not understand?
Thus, the Marchioness dismissed all spicy and pungent items, instructing everyone to replace them entirely with mild and nourishing medicinal broths for fetal preservation.
The so-called medicinal broths were mainly based on rice and wheat, which could nourish the qi of the five viscera; she had eaten precisely this way during her own pregnancies.
Yet, remembering how her daughter had suffered hardships in her youth and now loved eating meat, the Marchioness truly could not bear to make her eat vegetarian food all the time, so she had mutton and beef broths stewed into it, adding an extra pinch of Chinese cornel for its flavor-enhancing effect.
Sure enough, as soon as the beef and mutton broth was served, her young daughter buried her little head and began eating eagerly, much faster than yesterday’s glutinous rice congee, and enjoying it much more.
Jiang Lan was delighted that her observation had been spot-on—she simply loved eating meat. Thus, her hands kept moving as she picked food for her: “You child, eat slower, there’s still more coming.”
While she ate the congee, Jiang Lan accompanied her by consuming the medicinal broth as well.
Today’s dishes were entirely meat congees, and as Jiang Lan scooped hers, she truly felt the flavor fell far short of the plain congee stewed with glutinous rice; although it lacked meat, it was clean, sweet, and refreshing.
Glancing sideways again at her daughter’s appearance of burying her head to eat voraciously, she only felt a sour ache in her heart—her child… she owed her child far too much.
After finishing lunch, the maidservants filed in in an orderly stream, preparing clear tea for rinsing their mouths.
Taking advantage of this lull, the Marchioness instructed Caihuan regarding the dishes for dinner: they were to be meat broths as before, avoiding spicy ingredients, and strictly excluding rabbit meat, mutton, crab, and swamp eel.
Shen Mingyu knew about swamp eel—pregnant women were not allowed to eat it—but she had never heard of rabbit meat, mutton, or crab being forbidden. She curiously asked the Marchioness, who replied, “Rabbit meat might cause harelips, mutton carries an inauspicious meaning and causes children to be sickly, and as for that crab—it walks sideways, leading to sideways [difficult] labor.”
“Yu’er, Mother hopes you will be well.” The Marchioness grasped her hand, and then, as if avoiding a taboo, she stopped mentioning those matters, merely comforting and gently stroking her protruding lower abdomen. Through the thin garments and her belly, she could actually feel the baby moving, and the Marchioness’s heart inevitably softened as well.
“That’s right, Yu’er, your father and I have discussed it: we will add your name to the genealogical registry. To the outside world, you will be Helan Yi, the fourth daughter whom the Marquis brought back from his ancestral home, how does that sound?”
Shen Mingyu naturally felt overjoyed.
The Marchioness continued: “It’s just that this world is ultimately unkind to women, and what we fear most are idle gossip and rumors outside. Some people look human enough on the outside, but you never know how they scheme and fabricate stories behind your back. Your father and I have thought it over; once the precious child is born, we will register him under your eldest brother’s name, especially since Lady Lan has been married into the family for so many years without bearing any children.”
When mentioning Lady Lan, Jiang Lan’s expression showed a trace of disdain.
This Lady Lan was Helan Qian’s concubine, and Shen Mingyu could sense that the Marchioness was not very fond of her.
Shen Mingyu thought of her eldest brother, who always wore a stern expression, and felt a bit uneasy: “Will Eldest Brother be willing?”
“Willing, why wouldn’t he be? When your father mentioned it to him, he agreed immediately. Furthermore, it’s just registering a name; nobody is asking him to raise the child. Your eldest brother is a man; although he isn’t married yet, having a few more children won’t cause anyone to gossip about him. This is something an elder brother ought to shoulder for his younger sister.”
Jiang Lan saw that her daughter was somewhat afraid of Helan Qian, and couldn’t help smiling, lightly patting her head: “Yu’er, don’t mind how fierce your eldest brother looks; actually, he’s like that with everyone, he just speaks very little.”
Scarcely had she finished speaking when Steward Xue arrived.
Xue Ding delivered a stack of land deeds stamped with official seals. There were over a dozen storefronts, all located in the most bustling districts of the Western Market, and among them was also a four-courtyard mansion.
Jiang Lan took these items handed over by Xue Ding.
“A few days ago, I heard Madam Chen say that storefronts have been difficult to buy and sell recently, and I thought it would take at least two months to get them sorted out. You actually managed it this fast? You cleared all the administrative procedures in just one month?”
Jiang Lan carefully inspected them, lifting her eyes to look at Xue Ding: “What did the official yamen say? Didn’t they give you a hard time?”
Xue Ding looked around and saw that the maidservants had already withdrawn to the outer hall, leaving only the Fourth Young Lady by the Marchioness’s side, so he reported truthfully: “It is indeed difficult to handle lately. The Sovereign is gravely ill, the political climate in the imperial city is unstable, and the yamen are enforcing restrictions tightly. However, as soon as the people at the prefectural office learned that this humble servant is from the Marquis of Wu’an’s estate, they gave us a smooth passage and even ordered us to keep it quiet.”
Jiang Lan smiled slightly: “These people certainly know how to handle affairs.”
She despised people who trimmed their sails to the wind. But since they were clearing the path for her, she would make use of them as well.
“Mistress, there is one more matter,” Xue Ding said. “On my way back, I ran into Qingzhu, who serves Second Master Jun. Qingzhu said the Second Master has to keep vigil in the palace tonight, so he won’t be returning.”
Jiang Lan nodded. “Presently, the Sovereign has no sons, and search parties have looked for the crown prince for years without a trace. All sorts of wolves and tigers are staring intensely at that position. Amidst this storm and stress, when you see Jun’er later, tell him to be careful, especially of Prince Rong’s faction, who are the loudest in their clamor—their methods are extremely insidious.”
“Rest assured, Mistress, the Second Master knows his limits and understands even without being reminded.”
Jiang Lan nodded, and turning back to see that Shen Mingyu was also listening—and considering she had just arrived in the capital and was curious about these matters—she dismissed Xue Ding and narrated the background to her in detail: “Yu’er, the present Emperor only returned to court five years ago; prior to that, Prince Rui had been exercising regency all along. Nowadays, the Emperor’s chronic illness keeps him bedridden, requiring close ministers to take turns keeping vigil by his side.”
Shen Mingyu suddenly remembered hearing her tutor mention this last year when she attended private school.
It was said that seventeen years ago, the Emperor decided to personally lead an expedition to the northern frontiers, appointing his younger brother, Prince Rui, as Prince Regent to assist in governing the state. Later on, our dynasty won a great victory, but during a sudden raid by the Di and Rong tribes, the Emperor personally led troops in pursuit. Yet it was precisely this seemingly effortless pursuit that caused the Emperor to lose his whereabouts. At the time, numerous rumors circulated, claiming that His Majesty had fallen into enemy hands.
Afterwards, Prince Rui acted as emperor until His Majesty suddenly returned to court five years ago.
“Speaking of which, that Prince Rui is truly no good.”
The Marchioness sighed with emotion to her daughter: “Back then, our Marquis was also in the Northwest, accompanying His Majesty on the personal imperial expedition. Later, when His Majesty went missing, the Marquis requested reinforcements from the court, but Prince Rui refused to dispatch troops. Following that, Prince Rui seized control of the entire imperial city, usurped the throne, and sudden chaotic military uprisings broke out, attempting to slaughter everyone without exception. Inside the palace, apart from the Empress Dowager, all the imperial concubines, princes, princesses, and palace attendants were killed. At that time, the palace gates caught fire, and the Empress fled carrying the infant Crown Prince. Although they escaped the imperial city, none of them had any news of them afterwards. The Crown Prince went missing during that very escape.”
At this point, the Marchioness suddenly remarked: “Actually, Mother gave birth to you precisely during those times.”
“The court refused to send troops, and before long, Prince Rui usurped the throne, issuing an edict commanding the Marquis to withdraw his troops and return to the capital.”
Recalling those events, the Marchioness could not help but sneer: “The Marquis was insistent on searching for His Majesty and originally refused to return. Yet his mother and younger sister were both in the capital, and that scoundrel Prince Rui was sinister and cunning—who knew what he might do? Furthermore, rumors were already spreading in the frontier regions claiming the Marquis was defying orders and refusing to return in order to raise an army and declare independence. At that time I was pregnant with you, and it was precisely on this journey back to the capital, while passing through Jizhou, that my time of delivery suddenly arrived, a full month early. Afterwards, you were switched.”
At this mention, a pang of sharp pain pierced Jiang Lan’s heart. The court back then was too chaotic and perilous—so perilous that her attention had been scattered, leaving her unable to look after her child. For Yu’er to be able to return now was nothing short of the greatest blessing.
Shen Mingyu listened with extraordinary absorption.
In Pingyang County—a place far from the reach of the emperor, far from the imperial city, and far from right and wrong—ordinary commoners never cared who became emperor; they only cared whether they could live good lives.
Previously, she had been just like them, completely ignorant of these matters and living without any awareness of such places, only thinking about eating well, sleeping soundly, and dressing warmly every day.
As it turned out, it was such monumental events that changed her destiny. If Prince Rui had not forced the Marquis of Wu’an back to the capital back then, or if the Marchioness had not gone into premature labor and had instead given birth after returning to the capital, she would never have encountered the Qin family, nor would she have been switched.
Shen Mingyu remained dazed for a long time after hearing the story, and she suddenly thought of the Crown Prince who, just like her, had gone missing since childhood: “Then does Mother think the Crown Prince is still alive?”
Jiang Lan was momentarily stunned.
If this question had been asked of her a few years ago, she certainly would have thought not, and might even have felt that the Emperor searching for his child was far too obstinate.
Back then, there were fires and escapes; more than a dozen years had passed, and even the Empress’s remains had been found. Everyone said the Crown Prince was probably irrecoverable and had likely passed away long ago. But looking now at the living daughter standing right before her eyes, she suddenly tasted the unspeakable bitterness within it.
“Perhaps, he is still alive.”
As soon as Jiang Lan finished these words, she suddenly wiped the corner of her eye and took her daughter’s hand again. “Sigh, let’s put all that aside; Mother has something she wants to show you.”
Jiang Lan handed over the land deeds for more than a dozen shops and the four-courtyard mansion into her daughter’s hands: “These are what Mother said she would procure for Yu’er last time; take a look and see if you like them?”
Shen Mingyu blankly and dazedly accepted them.
So these were meant for her. She had thought the Marchioness’s words were merely polite pleasantries and that getting them processed would take ages, never expecting that in just one month so many properties would be secured.
These heavy land deeds resting in her hands bore her own name written upon them. The three large characters “Shen Mingyu” were extraordinarily clear at the bottom, stamped with the red seal of the yamen.
It was Shen Mingyu, rather than Helan Yi, which was also the Marchioness’s careful consideration. The land deeds she had gone through so much trouble to procure for Yu’er were intended so that should any misfortune ever befall the Marquis’s manor one day, her daughter would at least still have these land deeds in hand and would not be left with nothing. This was one of the few things she, Jiang Lan, could thoroughly secure for her daughter.
Shen Mingyu’s eyes reddened with emotion, the word “Mother” stuck in her throat. Jiang Lan patted her slender, slight shoulder: “Mother knows, Mother knows everything. Whatever Yu’er is thinking in her heart is what Mother knows.”
Jiang Lan gently wiped the corner of her eye and glanced down at her belly: “Time passes truly quickly; in the blink of an eye, Yu’er has all grown up and even has a child of her own. It is Mother who failed to stay by Yu’er’s side.”
Shen Mingyu lowered her head and bit her lip. She raised her gaze once more toward this mother—one of the few people in this world who would treat her well.
Upon Jiang Lan, she suddenly saw an overlapping shadow between them—a similar silhouette that crossed two generations and spanned the fleeting passage of time.
With clear, translucent eyes, she curiously asked: “Then what was Mother doing when she was my age? Did she have a child too?”
Jiang Lan’s gaze slowly drifted downward, as she simply pulled her daughter’s shoulders close into her embrace. After maintaining a silent pause for quite a while, she replied: “When Mother was your age, she no longer had her own mother.”
Hearing this, for the very first time, Shen Mingyu caught sight of a trace of profound sorrow upon her mother.
The Marchioness, ordinarily so graceful and luxurious, actually resembled a young maiden who had shed her outer shell. Her eyes, gazing into the distance, held an extra layer of weighty paleness.
During the freezing depths of the twelfth lunar month, a snowstorm blanketed the entirety of White Cloud Village.
The north wind howled, sweeping across the ground as households tightly bolted their doors and windows.
It was now the hour of the rat, and all the villagers had gone to rest. From the sprawling courtyard of the Zhou family down to the scattered, sparsely distributed thatched huts, the entire village sank into an eerie stillness.
At that moment, in a small thatched courtyard beside the back mountain, the lingering silence of the night was broken by the sound of drawing water; a young man was washing hemp clothing that had frozen stiff in the cold. The wild wind blew fiercely, nearly tearing the thatched roof away, yet he merely glanced at it, remaining unmoved just like usual.
When he finished washing and prepared to tidy up and return indoors, the sound of hurried horse hooves suddenly rang out. At the courtyard entrance, one, two, three… countless black-armored soldiers abruptly appeared. Pei Shumin stood in the courtyard amidst the swirling snow, silently gazing at this group of people.
The man at the head leaped down from his horse, knelt to the ground, and paid obeisance: “This subject, Pang Congzhi, acting by imperial decree, respectfully welcomes His Royal Highness the Crown Prince back to the capital.”
The wind and snow filled the skies, fluttering and swirling across White Cloud Village, before sweeping thousands of li away to welcome the first cry of an infant within the Marquis’s manor in the capital.