Watching the officials’ figures disappear beyond the yamen gates, Yun Shuyue frowned slightly. In the original story, the disaster relief in Rong County was only briefly described, so she had no idea what actually happened during this period.
But anyone with sense could imagine: behind this famine lay countless tangled threads, hidden currents yet to be revealed. Given Rong County’s dire state, resolving everything would take at least two months.
Yun Shuyue glanced at the yamen’s battered, peeling gates. Without realizing it, they had already been here nearly half a month.
Meanwhile, Zhao Qingyun had just come out and encountered a Ministry of Revenue official suffering from stomach trouble due to the local water and soil. Hearing he was going to see Jiang Chengyuan, Zhao Qingyun eagerly asked to join him. The official agreed without much thought—only to run into Jiang Chengyuan’s wife at the gate, which made things awkward.
The official bowed: “Greetings, Madam.”
Yun Shuyue returned politely. She recognized him as a low‑ranking clerk from the Ministry of Revenue, one of those assigned wherever needed.
The moment Zhao Qingyun saw Yun Shuyue, she lit up like a rooster injected with tonic: “Miss Yun, didn’t my cousin tell you to rest in your room? Why are you wandering about?”
She was treating her like a prisoner.
Yun Shuyue felt her head ache at Zhao Qingyun’s incessant chatter, like being surrounded by a flock of crows. She replied calmly: “Cousin, when my lord is busy with official matters, he dislikes being disturbed. It would be best if you stayed in the yamen and didn’t trouble him.”
It was meant kindly, a reminder.
But Zhao Qingyun snapped back: “I’m not like you. I’m going to ease my cousin’s burdens. Unlike you—step outside and you get injured, forcing him to worry over you.”
Instead of anger, Yun Shuyue’s eyes softened with a shy, tender gleam. She deliberately teased: “Cousin, you’re exactly right. When I was hurt, it was thanks to my lord’s tireless care that I recovered so quickly.”
The Ministry of Revenue official standing nearby was already sweating nervously. With the yamen gate so close, he didn’t know whether to leave or stay. Suddenly, he cried out, “Ah! Excuse me!”
He turned and ran toward the latrine, calling back as he went: “I fear I won’t be able to leave the yamen today. Madam, please tell my lord I’ve taken leave.”
Zhao Qingyun: “…”
She had just learned from this official that her cousin was inspecting river‑works today. But Rong County was neither too large nor too small, with several river channels. Without a guide, she had no way of finding him.
At that moment, two small voices called out: “Sister… Sister…”
Dongdong and his brother came over after washing up. Though their faces were still a little pale, after days of rest, they looked livelier.
Dongdong ran ahead, and Yun Shuyue bent down to scoop him into her arms. His older brother followed, more composed and steady, though still shorter than Yun Shuyue’s waist. She pulled him close as well.
“Have you two eaten breakfast?”
Dongdong nodded earnestly: “Yes! We had breakfast—and there were steamed buns too!”
Yun Shuyue asked the older boy: “And you? Did you eat enough?”
He nodded with satisfaction: “I’m stuffed!”
Both children’s faces glowed with the contentment of full stomachs. Their eyes were clear as spring water, innocent yet lively—utterly endearing.
It was such a lovely spring scene—until an ill‑timed voice spoiled it: “Well, what are those clothes the children are wearing? So many cloth pouches in front, they look like little beggars.”
Yun Shuyue: “…”
The words struck her sore spot. She wasn’t skilled at sewing; producing even these garments had taken all her effort. Unwilling to spar with Zhao Qingyun, she held Dongdong in her arms, took her brother by the hand, and prepared to return to their room.
But Dongdong didn’t think the clothes were ugly at all. On the contrary, he hadn’t worn a complete garment in ages. He turned proudly to Zhao Qingyun: “Sister made these clothes for me and brother. They’re so warm!”
His brother chimed in: “Yes, sister’s clothes are warm and comfortable. She even promised to buy us new ones when we return to the capital!”
Zhao Qingyun sneered: “No wonder. Who else could make such ugly clothes? Miss Yun may be a noble lady, but her needlework is truly disgraceful. Hideous, really…”
Suddenly her eyes widened: “Wait—you mean to take them back to the capital?”
Realizing belatedly, Zhao Qingyun hurried after Yun Shuyue: “You plan to bring two children back just like that? Do you even know if my aunt will agree? Besides, you haven’t borne a child yourself, yet you’re adopting two orphans. People will gossip. They’ll say you can’t conceive. Isn’t it true—your body is too weak, just like the rumors, and you can’t have children?”
Yun Shuyue’s patience snapped. She set the boys down to play and planted her hands on her hips, her face suddenly cold.
It was the first time Zhao Qingyun had seen her like this. Thinking Yun Shuyue meant to fight, she shrieked: “What, angry because I hit a nerve? Who’s afraid of you!”
Yun Shuyue stepped forward—only two paces separated them. Zhao Qingyun instinctively stumbled back several steps, hysterical: “Touch me if you dare! My cousin will never forgive you!”
Yun Shuyue almost laughed at her cowardice. Who was weaker between them? She bent down, picked up a cloth pouch she had made for the children’s clothes, brushed off the dust, and returned to her harmless expression: “Cousin, you misunderstand. I was only picking something up.”
Realizing she had been tricked, Zhao Qingyun’s face flushed red with anger. Yet she couldn’t think of a retort, forced only to glare helplessly as Yun Shuyue strolled away at ease.
“Chen Ping, you saw it just now, didn’t you? Miss Yun’s behavior was improper. You must tell my cousin so he can discipline that woman properly.” With that, she spun around in frustration and stormed back to her room.
Chen Ping: “…”
Indeed, Madam’s words and actions were far from weak. With just a few sentences and gestures, she had Zhao Qingyun spinning in circles—proof of her wit and resourcefulness.
Thinking back, Chen Ping grew puzzled. He himself had investigated the Yun household, and the reports had been clear: Miss Yun was frail, sentimental, often confined indoors for most of the month. Yet what he saw now was entirely different.
As his thoughts tangled, Zhao Qingyun suddenly burst out of her room again. She shot Yun Shuyue a fierce glare: “I’m going to find my cousin right now and show him your true face!”
Before Chen Ping could stop her, she had already dashed out of the yamen gates. Knowing trouble was brewing—since the young lady’s actions were always unpredictable—he quickly ordered several soldiers to follow her.