Early the next morning, An Ruoyu finished packing and went to find An Ruosu. The two sisters headed together to their parents’ quarters to pay their morning respects, planning to also join them for breakfast.
Upon entering, however, they saw only Zhou Shuyu sitting alone on the east side. An Jieshan, who had stayed in the main room the previous night, was nowhere to be seen.
A young maid brought two red velvet cushions and laid them on the floor. The sisters knelt together to kowtow and greet their mother, then took seats on either side of her. An Ruosu asked, “Madam, where is Father?”
Zhou Shuyu couldn’t very well say that An Jieshan felt too ashamed to face his daughter because of the Lin family matter. She smiled and said, “Provincial Administration Commissioner Wu and his family are due to arrive at their post today. Your father left early this morning with some attendants to welcome them at the city gate.”
“Oh,” An Ruosu nodded, then asked excitedly, “Does that mean our family will set off for the capital tomorrow?”
Zhou Shuyu replied, “It should be within the next couple of days.”
A maid brought washing supplies and attended to the sisters as they rinsed their hands and mouths before the meal.
Being a few years older than her younger sister, An Ruoyu understood more. From An Ruosu’s blind spot, she glanced worriedly at her mother. Zhou Shuyu gave a slight shake of her head, signaling her not to speak further.
—An Jieshan’s departure from his post this time was not due to retirement, nor was it even a lateral transfer. Instead, he was being promoted to a position in the capital.
Once in the imperial capital, opportunities to see the Sage Emperor would be frequent. Even if only to avoid future complications, the incoming Buzheng Shi would likely seek to establish friendly relations with An Jieshan.
During the handover of official duties, accommodations would surely be made where possible. Why would An Jieshan need to be so excessively attentive?
Families of officials could only form marriage alliances with other official families, or at the very least, with promising Juren candidates.
The education of daughters in such households was never limited to needlework, poetry, and song. From the time they began their studies, they were gradually exposed to the workings of the court through their mother’s guidance.
Therefore, An Ruosu, the time-traveler who had not yet reached the appropriate age, was absolutely no match in this regard compared to An Ruoyu, who had been learning from her mother for several years.
Seeing her mother’s reaction, An Ruoyu formed a guess and glanced meaningfully toward An Ruosu. Zhou Shuyu gave a slight nod, confirming that her guess was correct—this matter indeed concerned An Ruosu.
An Ruoyu looked at her younger sister with concern, only to find her picking at her food absentmindedly. Honglian, who was serving the dishes, kept softly coaxing her to eat a bit more, which struck An Ruoyu as rather amusing.
Then it occurred to her: her younger sister was still very young. Even if something were amiss, there were so many family members to shield her. It was better not to let her know and worry unnecessarily.
With that thought, An Ruoyu joined Honglian in coaxing her sister, though with little success.
Seeing her daughter like this, Zhou Shuyu felt a quiet worry. She resolved to have the kitchen staff research further, determined to create dishes that would stimulate appetite without harming the stomach and spleen.
After accompanying Zhou Shuyu for breakfast, the two sisters took a stroll in the garden to aid digestion. Noticing that An Ruosu seemed a bit drowsy, An Ruoyu took her to Aunt Wu’s courtyard to chat and play, hoping to dispel her fatigue.
Aunt Wu was there with her maids, Chunya and Qiuguo, sorting silk threads and making Daluozi. Seeing the two girls enter, she quickly smiled and waved them over. “Come quickly. A few days ago, Madam reminded me to teach you both some needlework in my spare time. Today we’re making Daluozi—it’s a good introductory skill.”
The two girls performed a curtsy, after which Qiuguo rose and fetched two small stools from the doorway, placing them beside Aunt Wu. The sisters sat down side by side, and Chunya pushed the willow basket containing colored threads toward them.
Aunt Wu first asked An Ruosu, "Have you learned to recognize all the colors yet, Third Miss?"
An Ruosu replied, "Sister Honglian teaches me from time to time. I already know most of the silk thread colors."
Aunt Wu nodded at this, casually picking up a handful of thick red threads. She pulled out one and asked, "What shade of red is this?"
An Ruosu glanced at it and said, "Madder red."
Aunt Wu then pulled out a slightly lighter one and asked again, "What shade of red is this?"
An Ruosu answered, "This is coral red."
Aunt Wu pulled out a darker one: "And this red?"
An Ruosu examined it carefully and said, "This is vermilion cherry red."
Aunt Wu pulled out another thread and asked, "What about this one?"
This time, An Ruosu looked closely for a long while before hesitantly saying, "Isn't this the same color as the previous one?"
Aunt Wu then instructed her to stand up. Taking the two threads, she led her to the window and held them against the sunlight. "Look carefully again. The difference between these two colors is quite significant."
An Ruosu reached out to take them, holding them up to the light and examining them closely. Finally, she noticed a slight difference: both threads belonged to the dark red spectrum, but one was slightly brighter than the other. How could it be as vastly different as Aunt Wu claimed?
As if sensing her confusion, Aunt Wu took the two threads back. She handed the darkest one to her first, smiling, "This one is vermilion cherry." Then she passed the brighter one over, "And this one is cochineal red."
An Ruoyu also walked over and said with a smile, "You're just starting to learn, so it's natural to confuse two similar colors. Once you've seen more over time, these shades will naturally become distinct to you."
An Ruosu nodded, "Practice makes perfect."
Aunt Wu clapped her hands, "Exactly. Alright, young ladies, let's not talk about colors today. Let's focus on making Daluozi."
She led the two sisters back to their seats and had them each choose a thread they liked. To An Ruoyu, she said, "You've been learning for several years now, so this shouldn't be difficult for you. Just make a Bianfu-jie to show your progress."
Once An Ruoyu was settled, she carefully taught An Ruosu, starting with the simplest "Shizijie."
After learning for about half an hour, An Ruosu was already able to make a simple Daluozi using the Shizijie. Aunt Wu then said, "That's enough for today. Third Miss has delicate hands, so be careful not to strain them."
After saying this, she ordered the maids to bring soup and fruits, allowing each of the sisters to have a bowl before sending them on their way.
An Ruosu visited An Ruoyu's courtyard again for a while before returning to the main compound. She first paid her respects to her mother and then went back to her own room for an afternoon nap.
All the necessary preparations at home had long been completed. As An Ruoyu had predicted, the newly appointed Buzheng Shi did not cause any trouble for An Jieshan during the handover of official duties. Everything was settled within two days.
By the early morning of the third day, the entire family packed the last of their belongings onto the carriages, bid farewell to the various officials in Jinan, and set off along the official road toward the capital.
The group traveled during the day and rested at post stations at night. After more than a month on the road, they finally arrived in the capital.
An Jieshan temporarily settled his family at a post station outside the city. After submitting his report to the palace, he bathed in fragrant water at the post station in preparation for his audience with the emperor.
On that very day, news of Lin Hai's passing, who had overseen the Yizheng in Yangzhou, reached the capital. An Jieshan felt as if struck by lightning, yet it finally solidified his resolve: after arriving in the capital, he would wholeheartedly serve the Sage Emperor, completely severing any ties with the Old Sage Emperor.
When a nation has two rulers, officials find themselves in a difficult position whether they side with one or try to please both. However, those who attempt to please both often meet a swifter demise.
Thus, wise individuals, after careful consideration, quickly align themselves with one side. The more intelligent and decisive they are, the faster they make their choice.
Previously, An Jieshan had not been in the capital, allowing him to evade the issue, but now the time had come when he could no longer avoid making a choice.
As for whom to choose, there was also strategy involved.
The new emperor had only been on the throne for half a year. Although he had accumulated some influence, his foundation had been granted by the Old Sage Emperor, and a single misstep could risk his removal.
The Old Sage Emperor, while firmly in power, was advanced in age and had suffered a stroke. No one knew how many more years he would live.
An Jieshan believed that since risks and hardships were inevitable, it was better to openly side with the new emperor rather than seek temporary comfort by aligning with the Old Sage Emperor. As long as they endured these few years, peace would follow.
Having made up his mind, he shared his thoughts with his wife that evening. Zhou Shuyu nodded in understanding and began planning which old acquaintances to contact first upon arriving in the capital.
The capital was unlike the provinces, where officials' residences were strictly regulated according to rank. An Jieshan had been transferred from Buzheng Shi to Hubu Zuoshilang—a lateral move in terms of rank. However, officials returning from local posts to the capital typically faced a demotion of one or two ranks, so a lateral transfer was effectively a promotion.
A third-rank official was considered high-ranking in the capital, yet their living quarters were far less spacious than those of local officials. Aunt Wu and Concubine Zhu no longer had separate courtyards and instead lived with Zhou Shuyu in the main courtyard.
Zhou Shuyu divided the six rooms of the east wing into two, allocating three rooms to each, while reserving the west wing for storage.
The east wing had good lighting, and the two concubines, being reasonable, were deeply grateful.
An Ruotai and An Ruoran, the two brothers, were each assigned a small courtyard. After all, they were both twelve years old this year and would soon be of marriageable age—it would not do for them to share a courtyard with their wives after marrying.
As for the sisters, An Ruoyu and An Ruosu, they shared a large courtyard on the west side, which contained eleven rooms in total, allowing each to have five and a half rooms.
After discussing, the sisters converted the room with the poorest lighting into a small tea room, where they could also warm meals or prepare snacks.
The remaining rooms were divided equally, with each sister having five rooms: three for personal use—a sitting room, a bedroom, and a study—and the remaining two rooms partitioned in the middle, each housing a senior maid with two junior maids.
Since arriving in the capital, their parents had been extremely busy and had little time to attend to the four siblings. An Ruoyu, An Ruotai, and An Ruoran were older and already independent, requiring only to stay out of trouble without needing their parents' attention.
The only one Zhou Shuyu worried about was her youngest daughter, An Ruosu, who had just been assigned her own courtyard.
Zhou Shuyu was occupied daily with social engagements outside, often accompanied by Aunt Wu, who, as a respectable concubine, also had to attend. Both spent their days being cautious and polite, their faces aching from smiling, leaving household matters temporarily in the hands of Concubine Zhu.
Although Concubine Zhu came from a servant background, she had been a maid in a third-rank official's household. Before being taken in by the master, she served as the head maid under the lady of the house, learning many things through observation and immersion.
Their household was simple in structure, and as newcomers, it was a time for caution and prudence. Concubine Zhu only needed to adhere to a principle of "strictness" in managing the household.
As long as the mistress remembered her contributions, she paid no heed to what the stewardesses thought.
As the saying goes, "Without desires, one stands firm." Precisely because Concubine Zhu had no intention of currying favor while managing the household, she was unafraid of offending others and handled matters as they should be. As a result, everyone above and below came to respect her.
However, this left her with little time to look after An Ruosu. An Ruoyu volunteered to take on this responsibility.
"After all, my younger sister now lives in the same courtyard as I do, so it’s convenient for me to watch over her. Besides, she is sensible. I’ll just guide her in reading and needlework—what could possibly go wrong in ten days or half a month?"
Upon hearing this, Zhou Shuyu found it quite reasonable and solemnly entrusted her youngest daughter to her second daughter.
Author's Note: