“Little Tang Li, come here.”
Tang Li leaned closer.
Ming Shu pinched her ear: “Where did you get this storybook?”
Tang Li dared not move, only craning her neck to look. When she saw the familiar words, she fell silent.
“M-Miss, let this servant fetch you another one.”
The reason was simple: the person who wrote this storybook seemed to have modeled it directly after Ming Shu and Yan Wei.
One was a cousin living under another’s roof, the other a general with illustrious military achievements. Under the cousin’s subtle hints, the general actually developed feelings.
Tang Li timidly twisted her fingers, offering a guilty smile before quickly reaching for the storybook in Ming Shu’s hand.
Little did she know Ming Shu had noticed her maid’s movement. With a twist of her body, she dodged.
Tang Li gave an awkward, ingratiating smile: “Miss…”
Ming Shu curled her lips and lay back down.
“Go to the main kitchen and fetch me some pastries and fruits.”
Ming Shu’s eyes had already returned to the storybook. She wanted to see how it would unfold.
Tang Li looked back every few steps. Seeing that Ming Shu was indeed engrossed in reading and ignoring her, she finally headed to the main kitchen.
When Tang Li returned, Ming Shu was at a crucial part of the story.
Tang Li was slightly breathless: “Miss, the chief steward sent someone to relay a message, asking you to go to the front courtyard.”
Ming Shu frowned in confusion.
Seeing Ming Shu about to put down the storybook, Tang Li looked pleased.
But then Ming Shu caught a glimpse of the lingering guilt on her maid’s face.
She immediately hid the storybook in her sleeve and straightened her collar: “Let’s go.”
Tang Li opened her mouth but couldn’t speak.
The person in the front courtyard was a senior eunuch sent by the Emperor to deliver an imperial decree. Yan Wei had already arrived. Ming Shu walked over with her head lowered.
Duan Cang gave a meaningful glance to someone beside him, who promptly went to light incense and brought a copper basin for the eunuch to wash his hands.
Then, the entire Yan household knelt to receive the decree.
Yan Wei’s face remained pale throughout, yet he acted as if nothing was wrong.
Ming Shu knelt behind Yan Wei and realized for the first time how exceptionally tall he was—tall enough to completely block her from view.
After the decree was read, Duan Cang smiled and handed over an exquisite pouch, round and full. The eunuch’s eyes crinkled with delight.
Ming Shu rose with Tang Li’s support but forgot about the storybook hidden in her sleeve.
With a soft thud, the storybook fell to the ground.
Yan Wei glanced over. The cover read “Pear Blossom Fragrance,” and he thought nothing more of it.
“Cousin, return to your courtyard, pack your belongings, and accompany me to the capital.”
Huh?
Ming Shu looked up, but Yan Wei had already turned away.
Tang Li carefully picked up the storybook and tucked it into her clothes.
Though unsettled, Ming Shu hadn’t missed it. Once back in her courtyard, she ordered Tang Li to hand it over.
Tang Li hesitated, knowing all too well how explicit the later parts of the storybook were.
“Miss, we depart in two days. We should hurry and pack.”
“Bring this one and that whole box of books. They’ll help pass the time on the journey to the capital.”
Tang Li’s face scrunched up.
Suddenly, Ming Shu caught sight of the poetry collection she hadn’t opened since returning.
A gentle breeze lifted a corner of its pages, and the crabapple flower border seemed to beckon her to look.
But as her hand rested on it, Ming Shu felt an unusual reluctance to open it—a feeling she’d never had before.
As if opening it would change something.
Yet her damned curiosity gnawed at her until she could no longer resist.
Muttering, as if to herself: “It’s just a poetry collection. What’s there to hide?”
Ming Shu’s fingers traced each character, each stroke revealing the white-faced scholar’s tender sentiments, thread by thread, captivating the soul.
Ming Shu read only two poems.
With a rustle, she closed the booklet, her fair face flushing with a layer of rouge.
What, what did he mean by this?
The poems openly and clearly expressed his feelings, and each one was even adorned with a crabapple blossom.
The meaning could not be more obvious.
Tang Li watched as her young lady’s face grew redder and redder, all the way to the tips of her ears.
“Has the young lady been poisoned?” Tang Li exclaimed in sudden alarm.
Tang Li’s words made Ming Shu’s face burn even hotter, and the poetry booklet was tossed back onto the table as if it were on fire.
Ming Shu patted her hands, somewhat flustered: “Stop talking nonsense…”
“Oh.” But Tang Li had already reached out to take the poetry booklet.
Just as she was about to touch it, a hand blocked her: “Go and pack up quickly.”
Tang Li had only intended to put the booklet away as well, but upon hearing this, she withdrew her hand.
“Yes.”
If the young lady wanted to keep it, she must have her reasons.
When she was alone again, Ming Shu hesitated for a moment, then quietly retrieved the poetry booklet and carefully began to read through it.
Ming Shu was beautiful, and there had been men who expressed their feelings to her before, but only this one had written poetry for her.
Her heart felt as if it held a piece of honey candy, slowly melting away.
Ming Shu spent the day secretly delighted.
Early the next morning, news arrived at the Yan residence that the chief eunuch had suffered from severe motion sickness and nearly fainted from vomiting.
Yan Wei half-closed his eyes, and only after a long while did he say to Duan Cang: “Go to the west courtyard and inform them that we will depart at noon today.”
Duan Cang asked: “Why is the general bringing the young lady along?”
Could it really mean something else?
He recalled how yesterday the general had ordered him to find the old maidservant who used to serve the late madam and ask if any letters between the madam and Lady Ming still remained.
The old maidservant thought for a long time before remembering that after the madam passed away, she had burned all those letters. Only one remained—a letter written by Lady Ming before her death.
The old maidservant said: “The madam was kind-hearted. In the letter, Lady Ming entrusted that if the young lady ever missed her birth mother after growing up, the madam should pass it on to her. What was written inside were Lady Ming’s earnest hopes for the young lady.”
The general glanced at it twice, then forged a reply in the same handwriting, in which Lady Ming agreed to the marriage proposal from the Yan family.
He also imitated the madam’s handwriting to write about the engagement.
Could it be that the general truly intended for the young lady to become the general’s wife?
Yan Wei took out the envelope from the hidden compartment, his dark eyes growing somber: “It’s merely a temporary measure.”
Duan Cang was taken aback for a moment, then understood.
The general did not want the emperor to control his marriage, so he was taking the initiative first. Both the madam and Lady Ming had passed away, and with the old maidservant and Elder Feng as witnesses to the contents of the letters, the emperor would not suspect anything.
Moreover, the general’s remaining unmarried until now could be explained as waiting for his fiancée to grow up, which was perfectly reasonable.
Duan Cang said no more and went to the west courtyard to deliver the message.
When Ming Shu received the news, she was stunned for a moment, then said to the stern-faced Duan Cang before her: “I understand.”
Tang Li brought Ming Shu the peach blossom milk pudding that had just been delivered from the main kitchen.
“This is too rushed. Fortunately, this servant packed the essentials yesterday. Now, only a few miscellaneous items need to be added.”
Ming Shu thought for a moment: “Leave the rest behind. We can gradually purchase what we need along the way.”
After all, due to Yan Wei’s injury, the emperor had given them a full three months to return to the capital, so she assumed they wouldn’t be rushing.
“But how can the young lady’s belongings be lacking? We mustn’t be laughed at by the people in the capital.”
Ming Shu didn’t care in the slightest: “Let them laugh. It won’t make me lose a piece of flesh.”
As a daughter of the Ming family living in the Yan residence, countless people must have laughed behind her back, calling her shameless. Yet she was still living perfectly well.