There was still an hour before supper. Yun Luoqing and his younger sister Yun Qiya, dressed neatly, walked side by side toward the main hall.
“Third Young Master, Miss, the Old Madam (Marchioness) and the Eldest Madam are inside talking. The weather is cold—please go in quickly.” Nanny Yao, stationed at the door, greeted them warmly and lifted the curtain for them.
“Two or three hours ago, she looked at you with hostility and suspicion. How has her attitude changed so quickly in just one afternoon?” Yun Luoqing raised his brows and whispered to Yun Qiya once they were inside. “What did you do to her?”
Yun Qiya touched the pearl hairpin at her temple and smiled sweetly. “My Eldest Aunt treats me like her own child. Naturally, her dowry maid treats me with warmth as well.”
“Heh.” Yun Luoqing chuckled softly. Not even a dog would believe that.
“Luoqing, Yaya, come here.” The Old Madam noticed the siblings and beckoned them to sit beside her.
“Grandmother, Eldest Aunt.” Yun Qiya nestled against the Old Madam’s arm. “Grandmother, the courtyard you prepared for me is so beautiful—especially that screen with clouds and stars. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.”
The Old Madam hugged her, rocking her gently as if soothing a child. “Then you must thank your Eldest Aunt. That screen was chosen especially for you.”
“Thank you, Eldest Aunt.” Yun Qiya turned her face toward the Eldest Madam, her eyes brimming with joy and gratitude. “You are so kind to me.”
Such radiant eyes—like sunlight suddenly pouring down—made the Eldest Madam instinctively avert her gaze by half an inch. She had long trained herself to keep her face composed, emotions hidden. But such direct, dazzling attention left her feeling unsettled.
Soon after, a servant came to report: His Majesty was displeased with the Ministry of Rites’ arrangements for the Empress’s birthday banquet and had summoned its officials to the palace to discuss it. The Eldest Uncle would not be returning home tonight.
The Old Madam praised the Emperor and Empress for their deep affection, then instructed the servants to prepare dinner in half an hour.
“I find Luoqing’s bearing extraordinary—refined and elegant. He must surely be inclined toward reading,” the Eldest Madam remarked, her gaze falling on Yun Luoqing. Though her younger brother-in-law behaved irresponsibly, his children were gifted and graceful, clearly inheriting their mother’s strengths.
“I’ve heard the Imperial Academy will admit new students in the spring. Has Luoqing considered it?” she continued. “Your two elder cousins are already studying there. Once you enroll, the three brothers can look after one another.”
Yun Luoqing’s smile faltered. Reading?!
“Thank you, Sister-in-law, for worrying over this useless child of mine.” Wen Yuxiu entered, paid respects to the Old Madam, and sat below the Eldest Madam. “I’ve been away from the capital for many years and know nothing of its affairs. Without your guidance, I’d be like a headless fly, unable to find my way.”
Seeing her goodwill accepted, the Eldest Madam relaxed and quietly explained how to enter the Imperial Academy.
Yun Qiya, nestled in her grandmother’s arms, laughed without restraint. Her brother did indeed enjoy reading—but only storybooks. Storybooks counted as books too, didn’t they?
Catching her glee, Yun Luoqing shot her a glance, then elegantly lifted his teacup and drained it in one motion. He had been born fond of food and leisure, hardly a man of virtue or diligence. How could he possibly love serious study?
Still, noble sons who wanted to secure a light, respectable post after coming of age had to spend at least two years at the Imperial Academy. So there were advantages to entering, after all.
“Thank you, Aunt, for making plans for me.”
The Eldest Madam declined to take credit. “You are the Marquis’s legitimate grandson. You already have the right to enroll at the Imperial Academy. I merely reminded you.”
Yun Luoqing decided that later that night he would burn incense to honor his ancestors, thanking them for their merit in leaving his grandfather such a precious marquisate.
Most descendants of the founding emperor’s generals had long faded into obscurity. Unlike the Yun family—whose hereditary title had been passed down generation after generation—his grandfather still held a respectable marquisate. Truly, their ancestors had been remarkable.
Thinking of this, he looked eagerly toward his Eldest Aunt. His Eldest Uncle, just forty years old, already held the rank of Assistant Minister of Rites, a third-rank official. Clearly, he was destined to be the pillar of the Yun family’s future.
After supper, Yun Zhongsheng and his two children began packing food boxes and cloaks, preparing to go out.
“Don’t take those pastries—your Eldest Uncle dislikes overly sweet things.”
“Bring those boxes of tea instead. He loves tea, and can share it with his colleagues.”
“What are you all doing?” Wen Yuxiu returned from speaking with her sister-in-law, her gaze sweeping over the messy room. She picked up a fallen wooden box and set it back on the table.
“Mother, we’re planning to bring clothes and food to the Ministry of Rites for Eldest Uncle.” Yun Qiya quickly tucked two childish packets of candy into the food box. “Father hasn’t seen Eldest Uncle in so long—he misses him dearly.”
“Eldest Uncle is the dearest, dearest uncle to me and my sister. Naturally, we must accompany Father to see him.” Yun Luoqing noticed his sister’s little maneuver, raised a handsome brow, and pointed at her from across the room.
“Heehee.” Yun Qiya closed the box lid and patted it lightly. Never mind—she had her own ideas.
“Take these gloves along as well.” Wen Yuxiu handed Yun Zhongsheng a pair of fingerless gloves. “Your elder brother often writes at the Ministry of Rites. These will keep him warm while still convenient for holding a brush.”
Surely, once Eldest Brother put them on, he would feel the deep affection of their family of four.
“Alright then.” Yun Zhongsheng tucked the gloves into his robe and told his children, “Your Eldest Uncle has protected me since childhood. When you see him later, don’t be shy—treat him as family, with closeness and respect.”
“Mm, mm.” Yun Qiya nodded, hugging the box. “He is our true, closest uncle. We understand.”
As the Ministry of Rites’ carriage emerged from the palace gates, fine snowflakes began to fall from the sky. The brazier inside had already burned out, and the three officials sat huddled together, too weary to speak much.
Suddenly, the carriage stopped. The Minister of Rites lifted his hand, chilled to the bone, and raised the curtain. A grand carriage with a vermilion canopy, iron-black frame, and golden wheels passed silently beside their worn, ordinary coach. He quickly dropped the curtain and whispered to his colleagues, “It is Prince Ruining’s carriage.”
The three men hurried to disembark, straightened their robes, and stood respectfully by the roadside to offer formal bows.
The dark carriage did not stop and soon vanished into the night.
The three officials paid it little mind. Prince Ruining treated everyone with equal indifference, never caring whether others saluted him or not.
Once the carriage was out of sight, the men quickly scrambled back inside. On such a bitterly cold night, none of them wished to suffer longer than necessary.
Unfortunately, while the prince himself cared nothing for ceremony, the Emperor cared very much.
Ordinarily His Majesty was reasonable, but whenever the matter touched upon Prince Ruining, his emotions grew unstable—forever suspecting others of slighting his son, or else on the verge of suspicion.
“Sigh.” The Assistant Minister of Rites lowered his voice. “I heard the prince was gravely ill some time ago. Now that he can leave the palace, his health must be greatly improved.”
If the prince was well, it meant the Emperor and Empress would not fall into madness again, and the Ministry of Rites might finally enjoy some peace.
“Ahem.” The Minister of Rites pulled his cloak tighter. “Royal family matters are not for us to speak of lightly.”
Yun Bóyan leaned against the carriage wall, silent, his mind filled with thoughts of home. Today his younger brother had returned with his wife and children. After so many years away from the capital, had he grown thin? Would he feel at ease living at home again?
“Bóyan, are you unwell?” The Minister of Rites noticed his pallor.
“Thank you for your concern, my lord. I am fine.” Yun Bóyan bowed in gratitude, suppressing his urge to rush home.
The Ministry of Rites was close to the palace. Before long, their carriage stopped at its gates.
Several other carriages were already parked outside—most belonging to officials’ families, delivering clothes and food. The Minister of Rites never troubled his subordinates over such small matters.
When Yun Boyan stepped down from the carriage and spotted his own family’s coach, he was surprised. His relatives knew his temperament well—surely they wouldn’t send anything to him at a time like this. He turned toward the vehicle, and when he was still five or six steps away, the curtain inside was lifted, revealing three eager faces.
“Eldest Brother!” Yun Zhongsheng’s voice rang out, loud and excited.
“Eldest Uncle.” Yun Luoqing greeted with graceful composure and perfect manners.
“Eldest Uncle~” Yun Qiya’s eyes shone with warmth and admiration, her voice sweet as honey.
Yun Boyan froze, then broke into joy. His younger brother had brought his niece and nephew to see him!
“Hm?” The Minister of Rites, walking ahead, suddenly noticed one man missing. “Where has Boyan gone?”
“Perhaps his family came to deliver clothes and food,” the Assistant Minister explained. “I just saw the Yun family’s carriage outside.”
The Yun family held a marquisate, so their carriage bore vermilion wheels—he had recognized it at a glance.
“I see.” The Minister of Rites was mildly surprised. Yun Boyan was known for his strict discipline and rarely tended to family matters while at the office. Today was unusual indeed.
About half an hour later, sustained only by strong tea, the Minister and Assistant Minister finally saw Yun Boyan return.
Yun Boyan entered carrying two large food boxes, wrapped in a thick cloak, his whole face radiant, showing not the slightest trace of fatigue.
The Assistant Minister asked, “Brother Yun, judging from your expression, is there joy at home?”
Yun Boyan smiled. “Brother Liu, how did you know my younger brother, worried I might catch a cold, brought his two children to visit me?”
The Assistant Minister blinked in confusion. What? He hadn’t known at all.
Younger brother? Was Yun Boyan referring to *that* troublesome sibling—the one who chased chickens at ten, chased dogs at twelve, fought at fifteen, left the capital with wife and children at twenty-eight, and even in his thirties still wrote letters begging for money?
“This chicken soup contains mushrooms my niece and nephew personally picked and dried. If you and Brother Liu don’t mind, please taste a little.” Yun Boyan ladled out two bowls of steaming broth for the Minister and the Assistant Minister.
The soup was fragrant, the steam rising invitingly. The Assistant Minister peered into his bowl, only to find a single mushroom cap no larger than his little finger. He glanced at the Minister’s bowl—slightly better, with one whole mushroom. Better, but not by much.
“My little niece is mischievous. She insisted on giving me her favorite candies. I don’t care for sweets or sour things.” Yun Boyan opened the pouch of candies, looked at them again, then slowly walked to the Assistant Minister’s desk.
On the plate of pastries there, two bright candies had been added. Yes—only two pieces.
Assistant Minister Liu, a gentle-natured man, couldn’t help but smile as he looked at the bulging pouch in Yun Boyan’s hand. If he truly couldn’t bear to share, he could simply keep them. Why mutter complaints that were really just a way of showing off?
“What are you two whispering about?” Yun Zhongsheng yawned. “Yaya, didn’t I tell you before—your Eldest Uncle doesn’t like sweets. Why did you sneak candies into the food box?”
“These aren’t ordinary candies. They’re my favorite ones.” Yun Qiya lifted her chin. “Father, you don’t understand. This isn’t candy—it’s a niece’s heartfelt gift, sharing what she loves most with her dear uncle.”
“That makes sense.” Yun Zhongsheng’s eyes lit up, and she gave her a thumbs-up. “My daughter is clever indeed.”
“Of course.” Yun Qiya was about to boast further when the carriage suddenly stopped. Lifting the curtain, she saw a vermilion-canopied carriage with golden dragon wheels slowly approaching in the distance.
Without exchanging a glance, the three of them instinctively stepped down and bowed.
They were handsome, and even their bows carried more elegance than most. The golden-armored guards flanking the royal carriage let their eyes linger on them as they passed.
The vermilion carriage rolled straight on, leaving behind only a trail of dust.
“That carriage is so beautiful.” Yun Qiya gazed after it, her eyes shining with envy. “Even the bells hanging beneath the canopy were made of jade.”
“Envy won’t help—it’s a royal carriage.” Yun Luoqing pressed down on her head, tugging her hair bun as he steered her back. “Little sister, do you see that pair of star-crossed lovers at the corner ahead? If we keep standing here, they’ll be too embarrassed to speak their hearts. Hurry, get back in the carriage—we’re going home to sleep.”
“My hair—brother, be gentle!” Yun Qiya clutched her head and scrambled up into the carriage. Before climbing fully inside, she glanced back at the couple. The man in the blue robe happened to look her way.
Their eyes met briefly. Yun Qiya turned away, uninterested, and ducked into the carriage—a common face, nothing worth her notice.