Chapter Fourteen

Mingtan felt something off about the whole affair. She had only intended to make the Duke’s residence notorious, never imagining it would escalate to the entire household being stripped of titles and demoted.

When examined closely, the upheaval of a venerable family that had persisted for centuries was indeed hard to believe.

But Bai Minmin saw nothing strange in it; she waved it away, saying, “Those who do many unrighteous deeds will bring about their own ruin. If we can uncover the Marquis’s and his wife’s affairs, then naturally someone will discover the sordid secrets of their other branches. Let those household scandals lead to exposure of corrupt officials… Isn’t that just a dam collapsing from an ant’s hole? What’s so surprising about it?”

That sounds about right, and it does come across as quite reasonable when you hear it that way.

Mingtan thought for a long time but couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong, so she didn’t bother overthinking it.

Bai Minmin: “By the way, when do you plan to go back? Now that the Linghou household’s reputation is ruined, no one will pin the blame for the broken engagement on you anymore. Spring is a fine time—the families are all busy scheduling flower-viewing banquets.”

At the mention of that, Mingtan cupped her cheeks with both hands and sighed. “We agreed to pray for seven sevens, forty-nine days, so of course I have to stay the full forty-nine days. What would it look like to run back in the middle of it?”

Zhou Jingwan said, “A-Tan makes a good point. There’s only a month left; I find this place particularly charming. It would be good for A-Tan to stay here and quietly cultivate herself. If she can’t get used to the vegetarian meals, I can have the household servants bring snacks each day.”

“No need for that.” Ming Tan sighed again, her small face puckered in the palm of Zhou Jingwan’s hand, her voice a little anxious. “Snacks are certainly easier to get used to than the fasting food, but by the time I return to the residence, summer won’t be far off.”

Summer clothes are thin; eating snacks every day won’t give you the graceful figure with narrow shoulders and a slim waist.

Before a figure, snacks are of no consequence.

Zhou Jingwan was also the archetypal noble lady of the capital; thinking this over, she nodded in agreement.

Only Bai Minmin couldn’t help but roll her eyes so dramatically it was as if her whole face declared: when it comes to pretension, no one in the capital can outdo Mingjia Atan.

But after checking the dates carefully, Bai Minmin suddenly remembered something: “Oh right, the spring examination should be over by mid-next month. When you head home then, you might even catch the new top scorer’s triumphant parade.”

This year’s spring examination should have already started around the time Ming Tingyuan returned to the capital, but because the Imperial Astronomical Bureau observed inauspicious celestial signs, everything was postponed by half a month.

Mingtan did the date calculations and, sure enough, it was right.

Bai Minmin leaped up with joy and hurriedly said, “I’ll have someone book the elegant room at Huichun Pavilion with a street-facing window in the next day or two! The parade will start from Zhengde Gate, and it has to pass by Huichun Pavilion. On the day Second Young Master Shu tops the exams, the road will surely be impassable with people!”

Mingtan: “How can you be so certain he’ll definitely top the exams?”

“With Second Young Master Shu’s talent, getting first rank in the province really isn’t difficult,” Zhou Jingwan said softly.

“Exactly!” Bai Minmin chimed in.

“But saying that, after the spring exams Young Master Shu should be ready for betrothal. A man so upright and noble—who knows what kind of wife he’ll take.

“Hey, do you think he might marry a princess?

“But there aren’t any princesses of marriageable age right now…”

Bai Minmin mumbled to herself, and at the end regretted, “If Mother hadn’t already picked out a future husband for me, our Bai family wouldn’t be lacking. If someone had come to propose, maybe Young Master Shu Er might’ve agreed on a whim.

“But a man like Young Master Shu Er is only good to look at from afar. If I actually married him, with no literary talent and not a line of poetry to answer, how would I get through life?”

Looks, talent, family background, stature…

They perfectly matched her wishes.

Mingtan gestured as she spoke and nodded silently.

After a long moment, Bai Minmin’s topic had shifted from Shu Er to another handsome man in the capital, and Mingtan unexpectedly asked, “What do you think of me?”

“What do you mean, what do you mean?”

Both Bai Minmin and Zhou Jingwan looked at her with puzzled expressions.

Ming Tan cleared her throat softly, sat up straight with proper composure, and put on her usual noblewoman air. “If Shu Er Ruo were to marry someone like me, how would that be? Wouldn’t we make a perfect match?”

Bai Minmin: “…”

Zhou Jingwan: “…”

Ming Tan still wore a sincere expression as she explained, “Shu Er does have quite a few flaws—for example, the family’s relations are complicated. His mother comes from a prominent household and is very strict about rules; he has many admirers, so the inner courtyard will probably never be peaceful. But his looks and manners are rather decent among the young gentlemen of the capital.”

“You think Liang Zixuan is fine, so why is Shu Er Gongzi merely ‘rather decent’? Your standards for choosing a son-in-law just keep getting higher,” Bai Minmin blurted out the question that had been bothering her.

Mingtan said with righteous indignation: “Not allowed? Precisely because of the lesson from that scoundrel of the Liang family, I must be extra cautious when reconsidering any marriage! Shu Er can see if he can even place first in the spring examination before we talk further.”

“Then I must go light three incense sticks for the Buddha, and pray that Master Shu—may the heavens keep him out of the spring rolls, so he won’t fall victim to your mischief!”

“…?”

“Baí Mǐnmǐn! You stop right there!”

Bai Minmin: “I refuse — choosing my own husband? How shameless of me!”

Ming Tan: “Didn’t you just say you wanted to marry? You’re the shameless one!”

…

The three friends at Lingmiao Temple laughed and joked, while far away in the prime minister’s residence, Shu Jingran, who was studying, sneezed inexplicably.

He raised his hand, motioning for the maid to close the window. He thought: I heard that today Lu Ting specially invited Jiang Xu to the drill ground to watch the Forbidden Army’s exercises, and Zhang Huaiyu went along for the excitement—could it be that these three, taking advantage of my absence, are scheming against me behind my back.

Since the day he left the prince’s mansion, Shu Jingran had been worried that Jiang Xu would directly request an imperial marriage edict, forcing the fourth miss of the Jing’an Marquisate on him.

It wasn’t that he bore any particular prejudice against that fourth miss—it’s just that marriage should not be treated so lightly, and he had many affairs to attend to; he had no intention of settling down for the time being.

Yet this time the three of them had been judged rather unfairly.

Jiang Xu and Lu Ting were naturally taciturn, and during drills they had even less inclination to speak. Zhang Huaiyu eagerly went to join the excitement but couldn’t get a word in; he stood out in the sun for two hours and was baked until his mouth was dry and his throat felt scorched.

Against expectation, when the exercises ended, Lu Ting asked him why he was still there — whether he wanted to spar.

Zhang Huaiyu frantically waved his folding fan, unable to understand how he had befriended such crude, brawling roughnecks who only knew how to fight. In the end he sulked away in a huff, vowing quietly to himself that he would not go out to seek such dullness again until Shu Er finished his exams.

By the time Zhang Huaiyu left the training ground it was near dusk. Jiang Xu also had other military affairs to attend to; Lu Ting escorted him out while discussing with him the troop redeployments for guarding the capital during the spring imperial examinations.

They were in the middle of discussing when suddenly a secret guard escorted a palace eunuch over.

“My servant pays respects to the Prince and the Commander.” The eunuch, his voice thin and high, bowed to Jiang Xu and Lu Ting, then bent respectfully and said, “Your Highness, His Majesty summons you to the imperial study tonight.”

Jiang Xu gave a short, affirmative hum, thus agreeing.

The eunuch bowed again and stepped back, hurrying to return to the palace to report.

The imperial guards, however, did not leave; one of them stepped forward and reported another matter to Jiang Xu.

Lu Ting had no intention of listening to the affairs of the prince’s residence.

He deliberately walked away and instructed his subordinates to carry out the tasks.

But Jiang Xu had no intention of evading; even from a distance words like “two years ago,” “Qingqing Festival,” and “Hanyan Temple” still drifted into Lu Ting’s ears.

—Whoever had offended His Highness the Prince of the North must be unlucky indeed, since even things from two years ago were being settled all at once.

Lu Ting, lost in thought, hadn’t noticed that after the secret guard finished his report, for some reason Jiang Xu fell silent for a long while—

Night fell; the palace was vast and quiet, and in the deep darkness the faint scent of flowers floated in the air.

A favored concubine, graceful as ever, paused outside the imperial study to deliver soup.

An eunuch bowed and blocked her path; with a single sentence—”His Majesty is discussing important matters with the Prince of Dingbei”—he caused the woman, ready to pout and play coquettish outside the door, to sulkfully withdraw her charm.

Inside the imperial study, the candlelight was bright and the incense thick.

Jiang Xu stood with his hands behind his back before the desk and, cutting straight to the point, asked, “Your Majesty summoned me—what is the matter?”

Emperor Chengkang gestured for him to sit.

He did not move.

Emperor Chengkang did not press him either.

“No matter. I simply think the Liang family was handled very appropriately this time.”

No longer inheriting the same rank, no longer receiving imperial favor.

The Ling guogong household would decline within two generations.

In truth, the Ling guogong himself was exceedingly ordinary, not worth worrying about. But the key governmental posts held by the other branches—ministries of personnel and the like—had candidates the Kang Emperor preferred.

And, more importantly, since Daxian took the throne, noble families with meritorious titles had proliferated; many held reputations while taking stipends and contributing little, and many wielded excessive power. Picking off a few prominent troublemakers in succession was, in a way, a warning to those who came after.

In fact, in recent years he has held great power and could have done many things earlier; he simply didn’t want to act without justification and give people something to talk about, nor could he move too forcefully and cause a stir.

This time the Duke’s household happened to strike bad luck; in the eyes of the world, this ruler appeared to be willing to protect them but powerless to stop the censors’ verbal and written attacks, so the various demotions were seen as unavoidable measures.

Unconcerned with criticism and handling matters with ease was exactly to his liking.

Cheng Kangdi indulged in his own satisfaction, yet Jiang Xujing stood there silently, unmoved. For him, going along with the tide was never worth much.

Emperor Chengkang came back to himself; seeing Jiang Xu growing somewhat impatient, as if he might immediately say, “If there’s nothing else, I take my leave,” he hurriedly picked up a booklet and stood, moving on to the matter at hand.

“Last time at the palace banquet you left in a hurry and didn’t get a good look at the women below.” He tapped the booklet on Jiang Xu’s shoulder as he spoke, earnest and persuasive. “This is a selection of well-bred young ladies the Empress herself has specially compiled. There are small portraits, and though they’re not as finely detailed as those produced by the official selection process, you can clearly make out their faces. After all, they’re all women of the inner chambers; it would be improper to summon them directly to the palace for portraits. Take a look when you have time—our and the Empress’s efforts won’t be in vain.”

“…”

Jiang Xu took it.

Emperor Chengkang felt slightly reassured. But mention of marriage made him recall something.

“Right, recently Shoukang Palace has been repeatedly召人入宫; it seems they’re plotting the marriage involving the Jing’an Marquisate. Axu, what are your thoughts?”

From his perspective, of course the proper thing was to get ahead of Shoukang Palace and choose a match for the Jing’an Marquisate first.

Only he hadn’t yet decided on a candidate.

Earlier Jiang Xu said he would stay on at the Jing’an Marquisate; he agreed, but how long he would remain was anyone’s guess. So for those entering into this marriage, they must make thorough preparations, including the possibility of taking a second wife.

Just as Emperor Chengkang’s mind was occupied with suitable candidates, Jiang Xu suddenly put a roster of young ladies on the desk and, in an even tone, said, “I will marry.”