Blossom

Wang Yingxue had orchestrated the sister-swapping marriage between Dou Zhao and Dou Ming. No matter how much the Wang family cherished their daughter, they could no longer shield her. Thus, when the Dou family proposed that Wang Yingxue return to Zhen Ding the following spring with Second Madam, the Wang family had no choice but to agree. Consequently, Wang Yingxue was moved to the rear chambers of the main courtyard, where she was personally "attended to" by Gaosheng's wife, with all outsiders strictly forbidden from approaching. Officially, it was said that Wang Yingxue had fallen ill from overwork and needed rest, making her return to Zhen Ding with Second Madam to "recuperate" a perfectly plausible arrangement.

So when Dou Ming saw Wang Yingxue leaning against the window frame, gazing blankly outside, she did not rush forward to embrace her in tears or seek justice for her mother by pleading with the Dou family elders. Instead, her eyes moistened slightly, and she hesitated, unable to speak.

Wang Yingxue knew her daughter had always looked down on her, viewing her as a complete failure for having even the authority to manage the household stripped away by the Dou family.

Yet she bore no resentment.

What was there to hold against her own daughter?

She had done all she could and given her daughter all she had to offer.

Wang Yingxue smiled faintly and invited Dou Ming to sit on the kang, instructing a maid to wash some fruit for her.

Dou Ming stared at the freshly harvested autumn pears—a delicacy even the Marquis of Jining's household had only managed to procure a few catties of for Tian Shi and herself—and remained silent for a long moment before murmuring, "Sister... she's been betrothed to the Duke of Yingguo's household. Did you know?"

"I've heard," Wang Yingxue replied, peeling a pear for Dou Ming with a cold laugh. "Your father is practically shouting from the rooftops about Dou Zhao's marriage. Even if I didn’t want to know, I couldn’t escape the servants gossiping in my ears!" She continued, "Though the Duke of Yingguo's household is illustrious, the Marquis of Jining's is no less distinguished. Just live your life well. This is all I can do for you now. From here on, you must rely on yourself. Visit your maternal grandmother’s family often—with your grandfather’s backing, even your sisters-in-law won’t dare slight you. And when you have time, visit your father. He’s never been stingy with you financially. With his support, you can save the income from your dowry. With these two things, the Wei family won’t dare touch you. As for the Dou family... they’ve never treated you as their own. Just be polite with them."

Dou Ming frowned.

Her mother probably thought the Duke of Yingguo's household and the Marquis of Jining's were comparable, didn’t she?

Even if there were differences, they were merely in rank and stipends.

Before marrying into the Marquis of Jining's household, she had thought the same. But after entering the marquis’s household, she realized that a marquisate wasn’t necessarily wealthier than a barony, nor was a barony necessarily more powerful than a hereditary Vice Commissioner of the Imperial Guard.

Even now, she hadn’t fully grasped these intricacies.

Unlike official families, where ranks were clear-cut—a Presented Scholar, no matter how hardworking, could never match the career trajectory of a Successful Candidate in the highest imperial examinations—one’s background determined their future prospects at a glance.

But noble families were a tangled mess!

"How can the Marquis of Jining's household compare to the Duke of Yingguo's?" Dou Ming said unhappily. "Look at Sister’s betrothal gifts—a full twenty thousand taels of silver! Father said, 'The groom provides one load, the bride one head'—he’ll surely give Sister at least ten thousand taels as dowry money..."Wang Yingxue scoffed dismissively. "How much silver does your sister really have? Don’t you know? What difference does ten thousand taels more or less make to her? Back then, even the Marquis of Jining’s Mansion looked down on Dou Zhao’s background. Now that the Duke of England’s Mansion is even more prestigious than the Marquis of Jining’s, how could they possibly take a liking to your sister so quickly after you married into the Wei Family in her stead—and even set a wedding date so soon? Don’t you find it strange? I suspect the Duke of England’s Mansion is nothing more than gilded jade on the outside, rotten cotton within. Who knows, perhaps the betrothal gifts were just pieced together from some old heirlooms left by their ancestors—all to swindle your father’s silver! Just wait and see. There will come a day when Dou Zhao weeps in regret, and your father follows suit!"

Dou Ming fell silent, recalling the rumors about Song Mo.

Observing her daughter’s expression, Wang Yingxue knew she had guessed correctly. Softening her tone, she said, "Don’t think your mother is a fool. I know the Dou family is scheming against me, but haven’t I been scheming against them too?"

Dou Ming was stunned.

Wang Yingxue handed her a peeled pear, which Dou Ming took mechanically. Picking up another pear, she continued peeling as she spoke. "Ever since I learned that your Fifth Uncle and your maternal grandfather were vying for the position of Grand Secretary, I understood—the Dou family would stop at nothing to undermine your grandfather. When Madam Cai agreed to help, I guessed your Fifth Aunt must already know. But so what? Didn’t I still manage to marry you into the Marquis of Jining’s Mansion without a hitch? What can they do—divorce me?

"Returning to Zhen Ding is fine by me. I’ve long grown tired of the Capital. Rather than being the nominal wife of an Imperial Academy scholar, I’d much rather live freely and unrestrained in the countryside farmstead. Now that both you and Dou Zhao are married off, your father won’t just let the family line die out. No matter which concubine he elevates, would she dare deny me as the rightful matriarch? What do I have to fear?"

Though her words were dismissive, the deep resentment etched between her brows betrayed her true feelings.

Dou Ming’s heart ached at the sight, and she lowered her head, mechanically chewing on the pear.

Seeing her daughter’s disinterest and realizing she would soon return to Zhen Ding—making it difficult to see her married daughter again—Wang Yingxue decided to drop the subject. Instead, she asked, "How does the Marquis treat you?"

Dou Ming’s face flushed slightly, but she forced a composed nod and replied simply, "Well enough."

Wang Yingxue smiled knowingly, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepening, making her appear even more haggard than her own mother.

Unable to bear it, Dou Ming turned her face away.

※※※※※

To become a renowned statesman, one must first earn renown.

At the onset of summer, thanks to his uncle’s recommendation, Ji Yong won the favor of Imperial Academy scholar Yu Li. Together with Yu Li and several other eminent scholars from the Imperial Academy, he was tasked with compiling the Grand Training of Culture , which would bear the Emperor’s preface upon publication.

Though the Imperial Academy’s offices were spacious, the ancient locust trees in front cast sprawling shadows over the entire wing, shrouding the buildings in perpetual gloom. Even in the crisp autumn air, the place reeked of dampness.The actual writing of the book was naturally done by the great Confucian scholars, with Ji Yong merely assisting in sourcing references. Despite this, his name would still appear in a small corner of the first volume, which filled the Imperial Academy's many years of toiling top scholars, second-place graduates, third-place graduates, and Bachelors of the Imperial Academy with both envy and jealousy.

When Cai Guyuan invited his colleagues for drinks, he deliberately excluded Ji Yong.

"A magistrate's adviser from my hometown came to the Capital on business and specially paid me a visit," he said loudly, casting a sidelong glance at Ji Yong, who was passing by with an armful of books. "It was hard to refuse his hospitality, so I reluctantly agreed. Since none of you esteemed gentlemen have urgent matters, why not join me at the Drunken Immortal Tower for some fun?"

The Drunken Immortal Tower was a famous pleasure den in the Capital.

Some were tempted.

Under normal circumstances, Ji Yong, to spite Cai Guyuan, would have pretended not to understand and tagged along, then engaged in a war of words with Cai until the latter was either speechless with rage or stormed off in a huff.

But Cai Guyuan had figured out Ji Yong's temperament and had invited Liang Jifen's eldest son, Liang Wuen.

Liang Wuen had a stutter and particularly disliked those who were overly articulate and relentless in arguments. His stutter stemmed from his mother, Madam Liang, failing to get him timely treatment while saving money for Liang Jifen's imperial examination expenses. Despite being the most scholarly among his siblings and having passed the Presented Scholar exams, Liang Wuen couldn't enter officialdom due to his stutter. Liang Jifen felt deep guilt toward his eldest son, entrusting him with household affairs and often consulting him on official matters, making Liang Wuen practically Liang Jifen's right-hand man.

Liang Jifen kept a low profile and hadn't been Chief Grand Secretary for long, so few knew of this arrangement.

But those who did invariably sought Liang Wuen's favor—and always got what they wanted.

Most importantly, Liang Wuen's greatest pleasure was posing as a down-and-out scholar...

This time, Cai Guyuan was determined to make Ji Yong pay.

Thinking this, Cai raised his voice even more: "In the past, friends treated me at the Drunken Immortal Tower, but this time it's someone else's treat—the wine will taste all the better for it. Don't stand on ceremony, gentlemen!"

This display of freeloading pauperism was one of the main reasons Ji Yong looked down on Cai Guyuan.

Cai was certain Ji Yong would take the bait.

Yet Ji Yong hurried past him without a word, expressionless, as if he hadn't heard anything at all.

Cai's jaw hung open in shock.

Ji Yong's mind was in turmoil.

Ever since his great-grandfather summoned him to the study three days ago and informed him that Dou Zhao was betrothed to the Duke of Yingguo's heir, Song Yantang, his mind had gone blank. He'd moved like a puppet, mechanically doing whatever he was told, and still hadn't recovered.

How could Dou Zhao be marrying Song Yantang?

With his illustrious background, he was completely different from them—how had this sudden betrothal come about?

And what did Dou Zhao think about it?

He'd immediately jumped up to go to Jing'an Temple Alley and demand answers, only to be stopped by his great-grandfather."Jianming, you should regard this as a test of your refinement," the great-grandfather said with a solemn expression, dressed in plain clothes and a Taoist robe, exuding an ethereal and transcendent aura. "Why did we fail in this matter? Are there any remedies? If not, how can we seize this opportunity to maximize the family's benefits? If there are, what methods can we employ? Instead of rushing off to the Dou family in a huff to demand answers like you are now! Tell me, what good will confronting the Dou family bring you?"

He didn't know what good it would bring. He only felt as if a piece of his heart had been gouged out, the pain searing. He wanted to demand an explanation—why could Song Mo, who was more beautiful and finicky than a woman, succeed where he could not?

Ji Yong remained silent, pushing past Old Master Ji as he strode out.

But he was hauled back by the attendants at Old Master Ji's side.

Old Master Ji gazed at him coldly, his tone laced with unconcealed disappointment: "Guard the Sixteenth Young Master. Without my orders, no one is to let him leave." He added, "You have already failed. Even if you cannot accept the consequences of failure, you should at least maintain the dignity of a defeated man."

The study door slammed shut with a sharp crack.

Clutching his head, he sank onto the small stool in the study.