Luo Yu replied offhandedly, "This morning Qingniang sent someone to say that her monthly period had come and the pain kept her bedridden, so she asked for a day's leave to rest at home."
That was one of the advantages of the women's academy—each student was granted three days of menstrual leave every month, during which she could rest without forcing herself through lessons.
Any missed coursework could be made up later with one-on-one tutoring from the teachers.
With that, Shen Qingyin formed a guess.
Most likely Qingniang had been in a bad mood before her period came, and had rejected the Zhou family's matchmaker without asking many questions. In a few days, when Shen Qingyin went to speak with her personally, the matter would surely be resolved.
As she pondered, Luo Yu pulled her into the western study. Inside, a sheet of drafting paper lay spread across the wooden table, bearing the design of an improved, new-style waterwheel.
Shen Qingyin was drawn to it involuntarily, quickening her pace to approach and picking up the paper to examine it closely.
The design was entirely different from an ordinary farm waterwheel. A common waterwheel merely spun with the current and drew water in a single function, but the waterwheel Luo Yu had improved featured an interlocking double-layer paddle structure, along with added water-collecting and channeling grooves, allowing it to turn by drawing power even when the current was slow.
Without requiring manpower or wind power, it combined the three functions of water storage, water drawing, and irrigation into one, with efficiency several times that of the old-style waterwheels.
The more Shen Qingyin looked, the brighter her eyes grew. She couldn't help resting her hand on the paper. Luo Yu pointed at a spot and said proudly with a smile, "I knew you'd wear that expression. I spent ages designing this waterwheel. Not bad, eh?"
"Not bad? It's nothing short of masterful." Shen Qingyin spared no praise.
She had been raised at her father Old General Shen's side since childhood, and her close friend was a master craftsman like Luo Yu, so what she loved were things like horseback riding, archery, carving little trinkets, and making small inventions.
That was why, when Madam Wei had asked her to praise the Pre-Rain Cloud and Mist Tea back then, she truly hadn't known what to say.
But when it came to Luo Yu's waterwheel invention, she could heap praise on it endlessly without repeating herself.
Luo Yu accepted her friend's compliments with a clear conscience. Resting a hand on Shen Qingyin's shoulder, she said:
"I've finished the design now, but whether it can actually be put to use remains to be seen. What I'd like to do first is carve a small wooden model to test the waters and see if it runs smoothly. Since you're here today, why not help me carve it and give it a try?"
"Well…"
Nothing would please Shen Qingyin more than being able to help Luo Yu, but as she looked down at the intricate, precise design on the paper, she suddenly hesitated.
"Yu-niang, I haven't touched a carving knife in years. Such delicate work—I'm afraid my hands have grown rusty and I'd do it poorly."
The last time she had held a carving knife was at Jun-ge'er's First Birthday Grab Ceremony.
That day, she had stayed up all night carving a small wooden sword as a gift, only to set off a whole heap of trouble—
"What's there to fear? Even if you carve it badly, I won't blame you. Why have you become so timid since getting married?" Luo Yu asked, puzzled.
The Yin-niang she had known in the past was dashing and bold, daring to think and daring to act.
Not the constrained, hesitant married woman standing before her now.
Shen Qingyin lowered her head and said nothing.
Seeing this, Luo Yu forcibly pressed a carving knife into her hand.
"Of the three of us back in the day, your carving was the most exquisite. You could carve a tiny boat out of a mere walnut. You've simply been out of practice—it's not that you've lost the skill! Your hands will remember as soon as you start!"
When the past was brought up, a touch of bitterness quietly crept into Shen Qingyin's heart—but the moment she looked up, she suddenly saw clearly the trust and certainty in Luo Yu's eyes.
Her father and brothers had died, and that man had left as well. Since then, apart from Luo Yu, it seemed no one in this world had ever believed in her again.
Shen Qingyin composed herself and gave a slight nod. "Then… then I'll give it a try."
With that, she sat down, picked up a block of wood, and began carving carefully according to the blueprint.
From Luo Yu's perspective, the woman's grip on the knife was practiced, her cuts clean and decisive, her strength and precision perfectly controlled.
In no time at all, a small, exquisite prototype of a waterwheel had taken shape, matching the blueprint exactly.
Luo Yu leaned in for a closer look, eyes full of amazement. "Not a single difference! See, I told you you could do it, Yin-niang!"
Shen Qingyin shook her head. "No, my hands are still a bit rusty. Look, the wheel blades aren't carved well—they'd probably turn a bit stiffly."
Luo Yu looked at her, and Shen Qingyin smiled. "It's not like I have anything else to do. I'll just carve another one."
She picked up another block of wood. With the experience from the first attempt, the second little wooden waterwheel soon took shape.
Luo Yu took it and examined it—this waterwheel's structure fit together seamlessly, turning smoothly and nimbly, without the slightest flaw.
"As expected of Yin-niang—you're better than the best carving master in my academy!"
Luo Yu couldn't put down this perfect work, then picked up the earlier, slightly flawed one and handed it to Shen Qingyin.
"But this one isn't really a problem either. Since it's also our Yin-niang's handiwork, let's give it to Tang-jie'er as a little toy!"
If Pei Xutang knew how capable her mother was, she would surely be proud of Yin-niang!
Shen Qingyin accepted it with a helpless smile. "You, you really know how to give away flowers picked on another's branch."
The two exchanged a smile, the atmosphere relaxed and warm.
But soon, Shen Qingyin's smile faded, and she lifted her gaze to look quietly at Luo Yu.
"Alright, now you can tell me straight."
Luo Yu froze, a flicker of panic crossing her eyes.
"…Tell you what, straight?"
"What do you think?"
Shen Qingyin seemed to have already seen through Luo Yu's little schemes.
"When you heard I was coming just now, you were unusually startled. We've known each other for over a decade—do you really think you can hide such small thoughts from me?"
With her thoughts laid bare in a single sentence, the smile drained entirely from Luo Yu's face, and she slowly set down the wooden waterwheel in her hands.
After a long silence, she finally let out a long sigh.
"Yin-niang, it's not that I meant to hide it from you. I only didn't want to say it for your own good."
The moment those words left her mouth, Shen Qingyin suddenly guessed what she was about to say.
"I…" Luo Yu raised her eyes to look at Shen Qingyin, her tone grave.
"I have news of that man from Beishuo."
There was no need to say who "that man" was.
Ling Heng, once the celebrated heir of the Prince Who Pacifies the North, admired by all in Shangjing—after defecting to the enemy and betraying his country, even his name could only be vaguely referred to as "that man."
Shen Qingyin's palm abruptly tightened. The edges of the little wooden waterwheel in her grip dug painfully into her flesh, yet she didn't notice at all. She sat frozen in place, and before her eyes, unbidden, rose that scene from years past when spring light spilled over the branches—a young man in purple robes standing beneath the crabapple tree, his bearing like jade, his smile like a flower.
Sensing something wrong, Luo Yu immediately pulled the wooden waterwheel from Shen Qingyin's hands.
"Yin-niang!"
"I'm fine…"
A tightness pressed against Shen Qingyin's chest. She drew a deep breath, barely suppressing the sourness surging up her throat, and asked in a slightly trembling voice:
"Go on… how is he now?"
Anything Luo Yu managed to learn was bound to be big news—
Luo Yu looked away, unable to bear the shattered look in Shen Qingyin's eyes.
"Yin Niang, he… he's going to marry the Princess of Beishuo and become the Prince Consort of Beishuo."
…
Inside Changle Ward, music played softly, and the air was thick with incense.
Red silk banners lined the path leading up to a private room on the top floor. Inside, thick fox-fur rugs covered the floor, and gauze curtains, thin as cicada wings, hung on all sides. Beyond them, several dancing girls swayed their waists, their jade pendants chiming endlessly.
The man seated at the head of the table wore a casual robe of azure. His lips were sharply defined, his nose straight and clean, his narrow eyes cold as a wintry pool.
He was unquestionably handsome, with fine bone structure, yet he seemed like an immortal standing above the clouds, radiating an air that warned strangers to keep their distance—as if utterly out of place amid the soft, decadent scene around him.
A courtesan poured him a fresh cup of tea and said with a coquettish smile, "Let me guess, Lord Pei—what are you brooding about this time?"
Pei Yu lifted his tea and took an unhurried sip, saying casually, "Thinking of you, naturally."
He turned his head to see Zhao Shuo on his left already deep in his cups, sprawled against a soft couch with a scantily clad courtesan in pink in his arms, shouting as he played a drinking game with Hu Yuanming on his right. More than half the wine on the table had been spilled.
Pei Yu looked away.
Between him and Hu Yuanming sat the woman who had just spoken, her gauze dress half slipping off her shoulders, a silver pot in hand as she refilled Hu Yuanming's cup again and again.
Hu Yuanming scratched her chin as if teasing a kitten and said to her:
"Lady Lin, no need to fuss over me. I've told you—our honored guest here is Lord Pei."
Only then did Lady Lin's gaze drift back to Pei Yu.
Her slender hands swapped the wine pot for a teapot and poured into Pei Yu's empty cup, then she let out a feigned, aggrieved little huff and said in a clingy tone:
"Every time you grace us with your presence, Lord Pei, you never touch a drop of wine. Only yesterday did you finally relent and drink half a cup…"
"What? Could it be that wine poured by my own hands wasn't worthy of your eyes, my lord? Have I offended you?"
"Don't overthink it." Pei Yu raised his eyes, a gentle smile touching his thin lips.
"How could I scorn fine wine poured by a beauty's own hands? It's only that my parents are desperate for a grandchild and press me daily. Once my wife is with child, I'll come back and drink the whole night through with Lady Lin—how does that sound?"
So he was trying for a baby with his wife. No wonder he refused to drink.
Lady Lin's cheeks flushed warm at his words, and she shot Pei Yu a shy, sidelong glance. "A promise from your golden mouth, my lord—you mustn't deceive me~"
Pei Yu smiled. "When have I ever deceived you?"
Zhao Shuo, having drunk too much, hurried off to relieve himself, and the clamor of the drinking game died down a little. Only then did Hu Yuanming set down his wine cup and remark, offhandedly, "Come to think of it, the news from Beishuo lately has been truly vexing…"
Pei Yu looked at him as Hu Yuanming went on: "Ling Heng marrying the Princess of Beishuo would be one thing, but he's actually sent troops south to raid the villages along our border! You must know that after the autumn harvest, most of our Great Qi people's grain goes to the national treasury, and what little they keep is barely enough to scrape by—"
"Now their stores have been stripped bare by Beishuo's soldiers. With no grain for the winter, those farming families can only sit and wait to starve. Who knows what strategy His Majesty will devise to quell this disaster?"
As his words fell, Hu Yuanming turned his head and met Pei Yu's gaze directly.
The latter, however, merely withdrew his gaze, fingertips lightly tracing the rim of his cup, long lashes lowered to completely conceal the thoughts in his eyes—no matter how carefully the other studied him, nothing could be read.
Hu Yuanming spoke again. "I wonder what you think, Ziyan?"
"What else could he think?" Zhao Shuo, returning to his seat after relieving himself, pulled a courtesan back into his embrace and interjected with a smile:
"Our Ziyan is in the Emperor's favor these days. For a matter of such importance, I expect His Majesty will summon him and his circle of trusted aides to the palace to discuss it within days. When that happens, we'll naturally learn whatever measures His Majesty intends to take."
Hu Yuanming's eyes lit up with understanding, and he clapped his hands with a laugh. "Yes, yes, Brother Zhao is absolutely right! That slipped my mind!"
He said to Pei Yu frankly, "If it's truly as Brother Zhao says, and His Majesty will summon you and his trusted aides to the palace to deliberate on this matter, then the great merit of pacifying the border and checking the traitor—I'd sooner entrust it to you, Ziyan, than to anyone else—"
Pei Yu looked back at Hu Yuanming. Before he could even size him up, the man reached into his robes and carefully drew out a sealed, intact scroll, saying slowly:
"Ziyan, do you still remember, three years ago, when news of Ling Heng's treason and defection to the enemy reached Shangjing, how the Prince of Dingbei and his wife, unable to bear the humiliation of the rumors, hanged themselves together in their residence?"
Pei Yu gave a slight nod.
Of course he had not forgotten.
Three years ago, the Emperor had decreed the confiscation of the Prince of Dingbei's entire household, ordering him to behead the Ling family's male heirs, exile the collateral branches, and consign all the women to the official brothels.
If the Prince and his wife had not hanged themselves first, he, Pei Yu, would have personally escorted them to the execution ground.
A smile bloomed on Hu Yuanming's face. "Precisely. At the time, His Majesty sent my father to lead troops and search the Prince of Dingbei's residence. In a hidden compartment in Ling Heng's bedchamber, my father found this portrait, which he painted with his own hand for his beloved."
His beloved?
Pei Yu's gaze fell on the scroll tied with purple silk.
The former heir to the Prince of Dingbei, Ling Heng, had been exceptionally handsome, courteous and polite to all, outstanding in horsemanship, archery, poetry, and prose—drawing the secret admiration of the noble ladies of Shangjing, who all regarded him as the man of their dreams.
But from the brief month they had shared as classmates at the Imperial Academy, Pei Yu knew that the man had seemed equally polite to everyone, maintaining impeccable distance. He had never heard of Ling Heng growing close to any woman, let alone having a beloved.
Hu Yuanming seemed to perceive Pei Yu's confusion and said with an easy smile, "There's something you don't know, Ziyan. That Ling Heng, like his father the Prince of Dingbei, was exceedingly proud, a believer in one heart and one love for a lifetime. It was precisely because he had a beloved that he was so indifferent to women."
With that, he handed the scroll to Lady Lin, signaling with his eyes for her to pass it to Pei Yu.
"To strike a snake, strike it at seven inches; know yourself and know your enemy, and you will win every battle. Against a traitor like Ling Heng—skilled in both letters and arms, with no family to restrain him—conventional methods are useless."
His voice cooled several degrees. "So, Ziyan, if you can identify the woman in this painting and use her as leverage against Ling Heng, there's no fear he won't curb his raids. Better still if you can bring him back to submit to justice in bonds. In that case, you will have successfully eased His Majesty's burdens and earned another great merit."