Blossom

Back then, he had already risen to become the assistant manager of the Accumulated Fragrance Pavilion, and everyone praised him for his bright future. Who would have thought that out of the blue, the third master of the Dou family would assign him to help Fourth Miss Dou manage a small stationery shop?

Those who knew understood it was a sign of the third master’s trust in him, and while they congratulated him, they couldn’t help but feel it was a pity. Those who didn’t know assumed he must have done something wrong, leading to either gloating expressions or hesitant silence whenever they saw him. This left him frustrated for years.

But now, Fourth Miss Dou had married the heir of the Duke of Yingguo’s household, and his back straightened with pride.

That was the Duke of Yingguo’s household!

A family of high officials, favored by the imperial court for centuries!

The business he managed belonged to the wife of the Duke of Yingguo’s heir!

If he worked hard, and once Fourth Miss Dou bore a legitimate son, he might even become a steward in the Duke of Yingguo’s mansion!

The thought made Fan Wenshu’s heart burn with ambition, and he devoted himself even more diligently to the shop. These past few days, he had been considering whether to suggest to Dou Zhao that they acquire the neighboring shop. Besides selling stationery, they could add exquisite and delicate scholarly treasures, even packaging them in various decorative boxes to serve as gifts.

So when he suddenly heard that Chen Qushui’s carriage was parked outside the shop, he was startled and hurried out to greet him.

He didn’t see Cui Shisan or Tian Fugui.

Fan Wenshu couldn’t help but mutter a few words to himself.

After all, under the same roof, he knew exactly what kind of business Cui Shisan and Tian Fugui were involved in and who had authorized it. Though he had never spoken a word about it to anyone, he understood perfectly well. These were not exactly legitimate dealings, and while he disapproved, he pretended ignorance. Yet he knew that Cui Shisan and Tian Fugui were Dou Zhao’s true confidants. Still, he didn’t want to be excluded because of this, so he had always been very attentive to Chen Qushui.

The constant travel between the Capital and Zhen Ding had exhausted Chen Qushui, who was no longer young. He allowed Fan Wenshu to support him as they entered the room. “Most of the household affairs have been settled, but there are still some matters that require Fourth Miss’s decision. I was afraid the message might not be conveyed clearly, so I decided to come in person.”

Was it really that simple?

Fan Wenshu wondered silently.

But since childhood, he had aspired to be a proper shopkeeper and had long resolved not to associate himself with Cui Shisan’s dubious activities. So he merely smiled and said something like, “It must have been tiring for you,” and nothing more. After settling Chen Qushui, he returned to his cramped accountant’s room.

Chen Qushui freshened up and reclined on the heated brick bed by the window to read while waiting for Yan Chaoqing. But as he read, drowsiness overtook him, and he drifted into a light sleep until a page called out, “Mr. Chen, Master Yan is here!” Startled, he jolted awake.

The room was pitch black.

He couldn’t help but ask, “What time is it now?”

The page replied, “It’s just past two quarters into the hour of You.”

Chen Qushui let out an “Oh” and sighed, straightening his clothes as he got up.

He really was getting old—to have dozed off in such a short time. It seemed he might have to spend his remaining years in the Capital.

But with Dou Zhao and a group of old friends around, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. He might even live to see Dou Zhao’s child born.

Smiling, he stepped out of the inner chamber.Yan Chaoqing arrived alone, dressed in a plain blue robe and a black scholar's hat. At first glance, he resembled a private tutor from a wealthy household, deliberately dressed modestly to avoid drawing attention.

Yet Chen Qushui's heart skipped a beat.

The more inconspicuous Yan appeared, the graver the matter he was about to discuss must be.

Maintaining his composure, Chen exchanged pleasantries with Yan and led him to the study. After they took their seats as host and guest, and pages had served tea and snacks, Chen instructed the attendants to guard outside: "Make sure no one disturbs our conversation." Only then did he lift his teacup for a sip and ask, "What urgent matter brings you here in such haste?"

Yan Chaoqing warily glanced around, listening carefully for any unusual sounds. Finding none, he hesitated briefly before leaning close to Chen's ear and whispering two sentences.

Chen Qushui immediately gasped, his eyes widening like copper bells. "Is this true?" he demanded urgently.

"Would I deceive you?" Yan replied with a bitter smile. "If you doubt me, you may verify with Madam's attendants, the Bie sisters."

"How could this happen?" Chen rubbed his hands together anxiously. "Then what about the Double Morning Celebration Red ceremony?"

Yan looked embarrassed. "The Young Lord instructed me to... make some arrangements."

"How could you be so foolish!" Chen sprang to his feet. "Such matters cannot be tampered with! Now you see the consequences? If they appeared harmonious on their wedding night, who could question their relationship afterward?" He began pacing the room frantically.

If Dou Zhao failed to conceive within a year or two, wouldn't she become the subject of gossip?

The crucial question was whether this was Dou Zhao's intention or Song Mo's.

If it was Dou Zhao's wish, so be it. But if it was Song Mo's... a cold glint flashed in Chen's eyes.

Yan Chaoqing understood perfectly well.

Yet he felt more wronged than Dou E* at this moment.

"The Young Lord visited Zhen Ding to see Madam frequently," he muttered. "Before the wedding, he even sneaked into Huai Tree Lane to visit her. When he gave me those instructions, I thought... it chilled me to the bone—I didn't have time to consider carefully. Later, when there was no news, I assumed Madam was pregnant and pondered how to explain it... Only when I calculated the dates didn't match and noticed no changes in Madam's diet did I realize something was amiss. Since they'd been together before, why would they live separately after marriage? That's why I sought your counsel..."

Chen Qushui erupted in fury: "It's your Young Lord who lacks propriety! Climbing walls in the dead of night, and you dare blame our young lady! Your Young Lord has never kept concubines—perhaps he's incapable, hence this shameful scheme that now leaves our young lady in an impossible position..."

(*Note: Dou E is a famous wronged woman in Chinese literature, comparable to the Western reference of "more sinned against than sinning.")Yan Chaoqing's face turned livid. "What do you mean by that? Our Young Lord is full of vigor. Just recently, we invited a Daoist priest from Dragon Tiger Mountain to take his pulse, and he said not only has his internal injuries healed, but his internal martial arts have also improved. He even joked that when Duke Ding had the Young Lord practice this internal martial art, perhaps his intention wasn’t purely martial—it might have been to ensure the Young Lord could produce more heirs for the Song family... Don’t spout nonsense here and tarnish the Young Lord’s reputation! For all we know, this could be your lady’s scheme! I’ve always wondered—given your lady’s shrewdness and capability, with her advisors skilled in both civil and military affairs, how could Wang Shi, a mere inner-house woman, pull off a sister-switch in marriage..."

She was forced into it!

If it weren’t for your Young Lord, we would have long returned to Zhen Ding.

We’d be living freely and happily—why bother with the mess of the Duke of England’s Mansion?

These words rose to Chen Qushui’s lips, but he swallowed them back—such mutual accusations were beneath them, like petty market squabbles.

Before Yan Chaoqing even finished speaking, he realized his own indiscretion.

He quickly stopped.

For a moment, the study fell into silence.

"So, what should we do now?" After a long pause, Chen Qushui and Yan Chaoqing asked each other simultaneously.

Yan Chaoqing said, "I’d like to ask Mr. Chen to speak with the Young Lord—after all, you’re Madam’s man. Such words would be better coming from you!" He left unsaid that even if the Young Lord were displeased, he’d likely let it slide out of respect for Madam, minimizing the fallout.

Chen Qushui wasn’t fooled. If this really is the lady’s doing, wouldn’t I be aiding the villain? But in front of Yan Chaoqing, he wouldn’t reveal even a hint of his thoughts.

"Both of them are still young, without proper elders to guide them. Some matters require our patience," he said leisurely. "However, the Young Lord is decisive. When to see him and how to broach the subject requires careful consideration. I can’t just barge in and speak to him, can I? How would I explain how I learned of this? Should I mention whether Madam knows? Given the Young Lord’s meticulous nature, these would be his first concerns. We must proceed cautiously..."

You’re just stalling to consult Madam first, aren’t you?

It seemed his suspicions about the sister-switch weren’t unfounded.

No matter what, they had to find a way for Fourth Miss Dou and the Young Lord to share a chamber and produce an heir.

Only with a child would this couple settle into a stable life.

"That’s why we must consult you, Mr. Chen," Yan Chaoqing said with a smile. "I’m too agitated to think clearly. No wonder they say three cobblers equal one Zhuge Liang..."

You’re not thoughtless—you just want to act under our lady’s name!

Chen Qushui and Yan Chaoqing exchanged pleasantries, each lost in their own calculations.

Meanwhile, the very subjects of their concerns—Dou Zhao and Song Mo—sat by the window on the heated brick bed, discussing tomorrow’s banquet."...Better safe than sorry. I think the chrysanthemum banquet should be held at the Hall of Cultivating Will," said Dou Zhao. "This way, we won't let narrow-minded people think we can't host events without the gardens of The Duke of England's Mansion." A hint of pride flashed between her brows as she continued, "Let's take this opportunity to establish the reputation of the Hall of Cultivating Will!"

Song Mo, who had been suppressing his anger at Father's slight toward Dou Zhao, couldn't help but smile at her words. "Do you have any good ideas?" he asked.

Dou Zhao smiled. "Why don't we create a seal for the Hall of Cultivating Will? From now on, whenever we invite relatives and friends to our home, we'll use this seal on the invitations to distinguish them from those of The Duke of England's Mansion. Of course, our banquets must also have unique features that leave a lasting impression." This was actually an idea she'd had in her previous life but never realized. Now that she mentioned it again, she grew increasingly enthusiastic. "For example, we could grow water radishes and cucumbers in our small garden and present them to relatives and friends in bamboo baskets with the 'Hall of Cultivating Will' seal on the tags. Or we could cultivate a prized 'Eighteen Scholars' camellia to present to Her Majesty the Empress Dowager or the Empress, with the 'Hall of Cultivating Will' seal imprinted on the flowerpot... In short, we want people to associate 'Hall of Cultivating Will' with excellence—things that are unique, refined, elegant, and precious, surpassing what other households can offer..."