Chapter 7

Pei Muheng returned to his study, where the guard who had driven the carriage reported at the gate:

“This subordinate delivered the young mistress to the Chengyang Clinic.”

Pei Muheng gave a soft acknowledgment, assuming Xu Yunqi had an ill relative or friend. He gave it no further thought, nor did he ask any more questions. His mind was occupied with more important matters.

“Go invite my father to come over.”

At the end of the hour of You, heavy snow fell in great goose-feather flakes. Within moments, the courtyard outside the study was covered in a thin layer of white.

Pei Muheng’s low, magnetic voice drifted faintly through the glazed window: “I’ve already discovered that Tongzhou Prefect Chen Mingshan has been secretly delivering moldy grain into the granaries, replacing the newly arrived tribute grain and selling it on the open market.”

Prince Xi sat on the heated kang by the southern window, his legs folded, frowning as he toyed with a small seal in his hand. “Where did that moldy grain come from?”

Pei Muheng stood upright before his desk, his gaze dark and deep. “From local grain shops in Tongzhou. Over a dozen establishments are involved—too many targets to focus on. Liu Yue is officially investigating under imperial orders and is being closely watched, so he can’t move freely. I’ve sent men to assist him in secret.”

He paused, a faint, mocking smile tugging at his lips. “Chen Mingshan buys moldy grain at rock-bottom prices to stock the granaries, then sells the tribute grain to local merchants at high prices, pocketing the massive difference. The shop owners benefit by currying favor with the local magistrate on one hand, and recouping some of their losses on the other. Both sides profit, so they keep it well hidden.”

Prince Xi, having come from a military background and once commanding armies on the battlefield, had long suffered from grain and silver shortages. He could not abide petty corrupt officials preying on the state. His face darkened. “If it was done by men, there will be traces. Heng’er, we must see this case through and give the soldiers at the front an accounting.”

Pei Muheng gave his father a complex look, studied him for a moment, then asked with a hint of resignation, “Father, do you truly believe Chen Mingshan would have the audacity to commit such treason in the capital region on his own?”

Prince Xi pondered for a moment, understanding dawning. His brow furrowed deeply as he slapped the small table in frustration.

“Those bastards!”

“The Great Wu cavalry flaunt their might at our gates, the people of the fourteen border prefectures suffer, and yet these vermin only care about their infighting!”

Pei Muheng seemed disinclined to listen to such venting. He said only, “His Majesty is advanced in years—he likely has no more than two years left. It’s only natural that those below him are jockeying for position.”

Prince Xi asked, “Who do you think it is?”

A pale light fell across Pei Muheng’s sharply defined profile, casting a fragmentary shadow. His deep eyes were obscure and unreadable. “Who I think it is doesn’t matter. What matters is producing evidence. The new year approaches, the Six Ministries are spinning like tops, and the Tongzhou matter will gradually fade from public view…”

Before he could finish, Prince Xi interjected urgently, “That won’t do. We must expose this case to the world as a warning to others. We cannot let the border soldiers’ hearts grow cold.”

Pei Muheng’s long fingers rested lightly on the desk, his tone flat. “In that case, I’ll throw a stone to test the path.”

“What do you plan to do?”

Cold air seeped through the cracks in the window, chilling Pei Muheng’s eyes, but his voice remained calm and steady. “I’ll have someone pose as a grain merchant and accuse Chen Mingshan of oppressing merchants for profit. They’ll come to the capital and strike the Dengwen Drum. Once that drum sounds, the whole realm will know, and no one will be able to cover this case up…”

Prince Xi drew a sharp breath and looked at his son with concern. Pei Muheng’s handsome face remained expressionless, betraying only a faint trace of casual ease.

“Heng’er, Prince Xi’s household has no powerful allies at court. You must keep your hands clean in this matter—no one must trace it back to us. You know your imperial grandfather has no fondness for me. At the slightest stir, I’ll be ruined beyond recovery.”

These words stirred some emotion in Pei Muheng. He replied with a hint of sarcasm, “There are over a dozen princes at court—every single one more powerful than Prince Xi’s household. Even if the Eastern Palace suspects someone, it would never be us!”

His gaze burned as he fixed it on his father. “What happened all those years ago that made Grandfather abandon you? Won’t you tell me now?”

For as long as Pei Muheng could remember, among the Emperor’s many sons, Prince Xi had always been the least favored. Even though Prince Xi was brave and skilled in battle, having rendered great service to the Great Jin, the Emperor remained indifferent to him. Thus the court officials all chose their factions, yet none came to warm themselves at Prince Xi’s cold hearth.

It was only after Pei Muheng distinguished himself and caught the Emperor’s eye that the household’s fortunes improved somewhat—but only somewhat. Pei Muheng had never given up; he investigated the matter in secret, only to discover that Prince Xi had fallen out of favor as early as the age of ten—for reasons no one knew to this day.

What could a ten-year-old boy have done to make an emperor harbor resentment for so long?

Watching his father—usually so bold and spirited—turn dejected and silent, Pei Muheng let out a disappointed sigh.

The candle flame crackled. A long silence settled over the study. After a long while, Prince Xi raised his head and gave his son a rueful smile: “Heng’er, it is your father who has dragged you down.”

If not for him, the Emperor would not have felt the need to keep Prince Xi’s household in check by casually assigning Pei Muheng such an unremarkable marriage.

The Emperor appreciated Pei Muheng—but wanted him to remain a loyal minister without factions.

Fearing his son might harbor ambitions, Prince Xi advised him: “You are exceptionally talented and highly regarded by His Majesty. Both the Crown Prince and Prince Qin want to win you over. In the future, you will surely be a pillar of the court…”

Hearing this, Pei Muheng’s face showed no reaction. “It’s getting late. Father, go and rest.”

He personally escorted his father out of the courtyard gate, then returned to the study and stood beneath the veranda for a long time without entering.

The cold wind howled through the trees, a lonely cry beneath the dark sky.

Huang Wei, holding a glazed wind lantern, stood bowed at his side and urged, “Master, the wind is strong—please go inside…”

Pei Muheng stood motionless beside the veranda pillar, drawing back his wide sleeves to reveal a clean, powerful forearm. He stretched it out to catch the large snowflakes. Each flake melted upon contact, the cold seeping gradually into his palm, yet he did not move.

Huang Wei watched helplessly as his arm grew pale with cold. He pleaded urgently, “The snow falls thick and heavy from the sky—how can one arm alone stop it?”

Pei Muheng clasped one hand behind his back and raised his arm even higher, a sharp gleam in his eyes as if to pierce the gloom above.

He would turn the tide nonetheless.

—

The heavy snow continued for three days, finally clearing on the first day of the twelfth lunar month.

On the first and fifteenth of each month, one was expected to pay respects at Jinhua Hall. Xu Yunqi was no exception. Since Pei Muheng had spoken up for her last time, she also needed to show good faith—whether the Princess Consort would see her or not, she must go to Jinhua Hall today and fulfill her duties.

To Xu Yunqi’s surprise, Old Madam Hao received her with a smile and ushered her inside. When she entered the eastern annex, the eldest sister-in-law Lady Xie and the second sister-in-law Lady Li were already there. Xu Yunqi, arriving a little late, took her place at the end to pay her respects.

The Princess Consort’s face showed no particular expression, only a faint “Mm.” Then, seeing Xu Yunqi still standing, she said, “Sit.”

Xu Yunqi sat below Lady Li.

Lady Xie was going over some account books with the Princess Consort, while Lady Li turned to whisper to Xu Yunqi:

“I truly envy you, Third Sister-in-law. It’s already spread that Third Brother spoke up for you before the Princess Consort. Look—for us, leaving the mansion is no easy matter, but you come and go freely. In the end, it all comes down to having a capable husband.”

Xu Yunqi could hear the sourness beneath Lady Li’s words. She had no desire to make enemies, nor to engage in verbal sparring. Her tone remained soft:

“It’s only because my mother was unwell recently, and I was worried. I did go out a few times. I’ll be more mindful in future. Still, if Second Sister-in-law ever needs anything brought back, just let me know. If I’m passing by, I can pick it up for you.”

Lady Li’s eyes lit up, her earlier jealousy dissolving into delight. “Really?”

The Princess Consort kept a tight rein on both the eldest and second sons—and their wives bore the brunt of it.

Xu Yunqi nodded with a smile.

Lady Li studied Xu Yunqi once more. She always wore a smile, looking like an easy target.

What a fool, Lady Li thought—she didn’t even realize I was being catty.

The remark had landed like a punch on cotton, and Lady Li lost interest. She looped her arm through Xu Yunqi’s with exaggerated warmth. “Good, then next time you go out, let me know.”

The connection was forged on the spot.

Lady Li reasoned that Lady Xie, with her airs, looked down on her as a concubine-born daughter-in-law and had little to do with her. So she would befriend Xu Yunqi instead. With that thought, her smile toward Xu Yunqi grew a shade more genuine.

Xu Yunqi, however, was unused to such closeness. “Second Sister-in-law, you’re squeezing a little tight.”

Seeing Xu Yunqi’s soft, unresisting manner, Lady Li believed her and let go quickly. “I was just so happy.”

Lady Xie presented the monthly budget to the Princess Consort, casting a brief, indifferent glance at Lady Li and Xu Yunqi before saying nothing.

Just then, a bright, crisp voice rang out from beyond the beaded curtain, and a lively figure darted in:

“Mother! Mother! There’s a huge commotion outside!”

All eyes turned toward her.

Xu Yunqi recognized the girl—a powder-pink dress of crabapple red, a short deerskin jacket embroidered with a golden phoenix, adorable and fair-skinned, radiating pure innocence. It was Pei Mushan, Pei Muheng’s full sister. She bounced in cheerfully, ran up to the arhat couch, and grabbed the Princess Consort’s arm. “Mother, I want to go out and watch!”

The Princess Consort, jostled by her daughter, nearly dropped the account books. Lady Xie took them discreetly and stepped aside in silence.

The Princess Consort rubbed her temple, looking at her daughter with a headache. “What commotion?”

Pei Mushan’s eyes sparkled. “Someone struck the Dengwen Drum! Grandfather’s reign is so just—the drum hasn’t been sounded in years, but it’s ringing today! Sister Han next door has already gone to watch—please let me go too.”

Striking the Dengwen Drum was a major event—another storm brewing at court. Though the Princess Consort kept to herself, she understood the gravity of it. She scolded her daughter:

“You are not going. Stay home and behave.”

Pei Mushan pleaded several times more, but the Princess Consort was unmoved, returning her attention to the accounts with Lady Xie. Dejected, Pei Mushan withdrew—then her eyes landed on Xu Yunqi, and her face lit up.

“Third Sister-in-law!”

Xu Yunqui stood up, bewildered, as the whirlwind of a girl swept toward her.

Her arm was seized once more, and the girl leaned against her shoulder, all sweetness and curiosity:

“I liked you the moment I saw you at the tea ceremony! I wanted to talk to you then, but Mother wouldn’t let me—she sent me to Grandmother’s. But now I’m finally back!”

Xu Yunqi was still dazed when Pei Mushan straightened up and studied her intently.

“How can someone be this beautiful? I used to think Sister Xun was pretty enough, but this new sister-in-law is even lovelier. Ah, your complexion is so smooth and fair, and you have such a healthy glow—you look like you’ve never known a care in the world! And you’re tall too—half a head taller than me! No wonder Grandfather chose you for my brother…”

The Princess Consort coughed loudly from above.

Pei Mushan, lost in admiration of Xu Yunqi’s beauty, paid no attention.

Seeing Xu Yunqi thoroughly baffled, Lady Li leaned in and whispered, “Fifth Sister can’t walk past anyone pretty without stopping…”

Xu Yunqi understood now.

Pei Mushan judged people by their faces.

Pei Muheng was stern and reserved, yet his sister was such a lively handful.

Xu Yunqi said generously, “Fifth Sister, if you don’t mind, you’re welcome to visit me anytime.”

Pei Mushan was overjoyed. She wedged herself between Xu Yunqi and Lady Li, shoving the latter aside.

Xu Yunqi was kept company by Pei Mushan and ended up having lunch at Jinhua Hall. It was only in the afternoon, when the Princess Consort called her daughter to her side, that Xu Yunqi finally escaped and returned to Qinghui Garden. Yinxing chattered excitedly:

“Your servant went and asked around. The Fifth Young Lady is famous too. I heard once, when she was browsing the western market, she saw a Westerner with blue eyes and green hair and was so captivated she insisted on inviting him to the mansion. The poor man didn’t speak a word of Chinese—he thought she was trying to rob him and ran off screaming. In the end, our Third Master had to come and drag her home.”

“Word on the street is, it’s lucky the most handsome man in the capital lives in Prince Xi’s household, so Fifth Lady gets her daily dose of eye candy—otherwise, she’d probably never stay home…”

Xu Yunqi took it as an amusing anecdote and let it slip from her mind.

She went to the eastern annex, curled up on the arhat couch for a short nap, and was dimly aware of someone shaking her awake.

“Mistress! Mistress! Look at this!”

Xu Yunqi opened her sleepy eyes. Beneath the brilliant daylight, a spectacular, shimmering array of colors rippled before her like flowing water. She stared, momentarily dazzled.

“What is this?”

Yinxing exclaimed in delight, “The master sent this fur back for you! I asked three times—it’s definitely for you!”

Xu Yunqi was stunned. She sat up on the arhat couch and examined the material before her.

It was a magnificent piece of peacock-feather fabric, densely woven, the tail feathers swaying with lifelike movement—clearly worth a fortune.

Old Madam Chen had come in with Yinxing and explained with a smile: “Young Mistress, the Third Master specially found this on the market for you. He instructed this old servant to give it to you, saying that with winter’s cold, you could have a thick fur coat made so you won’t freeze when you go out.”

In truth, Pei Muheng had merely instructed his people to buy the best fur they could find for Xu Yunqi. The rest was Old Madam Chen’s embellishment, meant to foster goodwill between the master and mistress.

Xu Yunqi was baffled. She found it hard to believe this was Pei Muheng’s doing. When Old Madam Chen saw her disbelief, she even produced the storehouse expenditure receipt. “It came from the master’s private accounts—see, here’s his seal.”

Yinxing glanced at it—three thousand taels—and gasped.

Such extravagance only deepened Xu Yunqi’s confusion.

She racked her brain but couldn’t fathom why Pei Muheng would do this. In the end, she concluded that some elder must have lectured him.

That evening, as the lanterns were lit, Xu Yunqi tucked herself early into her cotton quilts. Yinxing looked at her mistress sleeping alone on the massive four-poster bed, sighed, and gently nudged the dozing young woman.

“Mistress, courtesy demands reciprocity. The master spent a fortune on fur for you—shouldn’t you show some appreciation in return?”

Xu Yunqi had been pondering the same thing. She had been unmoved at first because Pei Muheng had laid down rules on their wedding night, and she assumed his heart was elsewhere. But now that he was willing to lower his guard, she ought to meet him halfway. They couldn’t stay this distant forever.

“But what do I have that’s worth giving?”

She had no money to splurge, no skill in embroidery—her only talent was medicine… and she could hardly wish Pei Muheng ill.

A sly gleam flickered in Yinxing’s eyes as an idea struck her. “Five years ago, when Old Master celebrated his birthday, you made a ‘Nine-Nine Sunrise’ medicinal cake. That cake strengthens the body and prolongs life—it would be perfect for the master.”

Hearing the words “Nine-Nine Sunrise,” a flicker of embarrassment crossed Xu Yunqi’s face.

That particular medicinal cake was most suitable for men—it could dispel illness and prolong life for the elderly, but for younger men, it carried an unmistakable connotation of invigoration.

Xu Yunqi was not yet comfortable sending such a dish to Pei Muheng with a straight face. She modified the recipe instead. The next day, she made a batch of spleen-nourishing wellness cakes herself and handed them to Steward Chen, who instructed a guard to deliver them to the palace without delay.