Chapter 33

Chapter 33

After several days apart, Pei Yue remained as pleasing to the eye as ever. The light filtering through the window paper seemed to brighten as it fell upon his face.

Ming Tang stole a few admiring glances before exchanging greetings with him and taking a seat opposite him.

"Is His Lordship on leave today?"

Admittedly, part of the reason she had completely forgotten about Pei Yue was that her days had been too fulfilling, coupled with her menstrual period preventing certain activities... But it was also true that she hadn’t caught a glimpse of him in the past few days.

Had she seen him, she wouldn’t have forgotten such a living person.

"Not official leave," Pei Yue replied, glancing at his nephew, Young Master Ze, who was tugging at his robes and standing by his leg. He bent down, placed his hands under the boy’s arms, and lifted him gently onto his lap. "His Majesty was gracious to grant me a day off."

The Emperor had ordered the Jinwu Guard to collaborate with other imperial guards in arranging security for the autumn hunt. The Commander of the Jinwu Guard, Marquis Changling Yu Jingshuo, had fallen from his horse earlier in the month and injured his leg, leaving him confined to his home for recovery.

With no one else appointed as temporary replacement, Lord Pei Yue, as the highest-ranking officer in the Jinwu Guard at the moment, naturally had to shoulder the responsibility. He had been swamped with work, returning home late every night, and thus hadn’t visited Sincerity Hall.

Last night, Lord Pei Yue had worked late again, but fortunately, the arrangements were mostly finalized.

This morning, he and several other commanders reported to the Emperor regarding the escort duties. While the others were dismissed, Lord Pei Yue was asked to stay behind.

The Zhaode Hall was vast and lofty, its interior faintly scented with dragon's saliva incense. Palace maids and eunuchs stood silently along the sides, ready to serve, creating an atmosphere of solemnity.

Yet the Emperor appeared relaxed, strolling out from behind his desk to stand by the window. He took some fish food and sprinkled it into the tank, watching as the fish surfaced to feed.

After a moment, he asked Lord Pei Yue, "I never asked—how are you adjusting to the Jinwu Guard? With Marquis Changling confined to his bed, you must have been quite busy these days."

"My colleagues in the Jinwu Guard are all harmonious to work with. I’ve had no trouble adjusting," Lord Pei Yue replied. Those who had doubted his capabilities due to his looks, resented his youth, or assumed he relied solely on his family’s influence had either been genuinely convinced or at least pretended to be.

"Though Marquis Changling is in mourning at home, he did offer me some advice on this matter. Otherwise, I might still be buried in work today." Advice like being meticulous in tasks, considering multiple factors when selecting personnel—essentially, a mix of sensible and empty words.

"You’re far more diplomatic than your elder brother," the Emperor remarked with a chuckle. Marquis Changling had always been evasive and timid, shirking responsibility and avoiding conflict. For the Commander of the Jinwu Guard to conveniently fall from his horse just before the autumn hunt escort duties was most suspicious. The Emperor smiled wryly at the thought.

As for the so-called advice... Since Marquis Changling had dodged the task himself, what useful guidance could he have given Lord Pei Yue? Even if he had offered any, it would have been perfunctory at best. Lord Pei Yue was likely just preserving decorum for his superior.

Had it been Lord Pei Jun, he would have bluntly stated that Marquis Changling had been wholly negligent, leaving everything to others.

At the mention of Lord Pei Jun, both Emperor and subject fell silent for a moment.

Lord Pei Yue said quietly, "My elder brother was always forthright." He remembered his mother once sighing that Lord Pei Jun’s temperament was suited for the battlefield—that in a place like the capital, his brilliance would have been dulled.

Later, Lord Pei Jun did go to the battlefield, only to return in a coffin.

"I recall he left behind a posthumous son?" the Emperor asked vaguely.

"Yes. He’s nearly three now. Mother named him Ze." At the mention of A'Ze, Lord Pei Yue’s tone softened.

The Emperor turned and sat by the window. Seeing Lord Pei Yue standing in the hall, his remarkable beauty a contrast to Lord Pei Jun’s appearance yet equally dignified, he couldn’t help but sigh. "Your mother has had it hard." Pei Kun had been a disgrace, yet he had two fine sons—all thanks to his wife.

If only he had a princess of suitable age, he might have considered making Lord Pei Yue a son-in-law. Any grandchildren would surely inherit some of his looks.

The thought led him to ask curiously, "The marriage to Lady Ming—was it your mother’s decision, or were you willing too?"

Initially, he had thought it fitting for the Pei family to marry a Ming girl to avoid suspicion. Since both families consented, he saw no need to interfere. But now, chatting idly with Lord Pei Yue and recalling the late Lord Pei Jun, he felt an unaccountable twinge on Lord Pei Yue’s behalf. Even to avoid suspicion, marrying Lady Ming seemed excessive.

If Lord Pei Yue was dissatisfied, he could always bestow a few beautiful palace maids upon him as consolation.

"Marriage is a matter of parental decree," Lord Pei Yue replied, then added, "But I was willing too. She will make a good wife and gets along well with A'Ze." Indeed, Ming Tang had adapted remarkably quickly.

Gets along well with A'Ze.

The Emperor mulled over these words, recalling rumors that Lady Ming had difficulty conceiving. He paused, his gaze turning complicated. After a quiet sigh, he found himself understanding. "The flesh of one’s palm and back are both dear. It’s good that you can make such a resolute decision."

With Lord Pei Jun’s child to raise, it might be better to forgo having an heir of his own, lest familial bonds lead to unpredictable complications in the future.

Alas, while the Duke of Dingguo’s household could make such a choice, it wasn’t feasible elsewhere.

The flesh of one’s palm and back are both dear... Lord Pei Yue also pondered the Emperor’s words, analyzing his tone carefully. Many conjectures arose in his mind, but his expression remained unreadable as he murmured, "A'Ze is a good child."

The Emperor fell silent. Seeing Lord Pei Yue’s satisfied smile—a man seemingly at ease with a wife and nephew by his side—and comparing it to his own worries, he waved a hand. "Very well. After these busy days, go home and rest. In a few days, you won’t have the chance."

With the Jinwu Guard’s affairs no longer requiring his constant supervision, Lord Pei Yue took his leave and returned to the estate.

Seated across from him, Ming Tang was unaware of this exchange with the Emperor. Hearing Lord Pei Yue say, "His Majesty was gracious to grant me a day off," she marveled at his luck—getting a personal day off from the Emperor outside of official holidays, allowing him to return home early in the morning.

As they chatted, A'Ze, seated on Lord Pei Yue’s lap, grew restless at being ignored. He squirmed slightly until Lord Pei Yue looked down at him.

"A'Ze, no sit, Uncle Lord, body," the boy declared solemnly.

Lord Pei Yue compliantly set him down, though not without surprise. "A'Ze isn’t speaking one word at a time anymore?"

Ming Tang couldn’t help but laugh. "His Lordship wouldn’t know—A'Ze learns to speak by adding one word at a time. These past few days, he’s been practicing three-word phrases."

Thus, his speech now alternated between two-word and three-word segments. When a sentence didn’t fit this pattern, the way A'Ze delivered it was quite comical.

Once freed from Lord Pei Yue’s lap, A'Ze glanced at Nurse Zhou and raised his arms. Familiar with the routine, Nurse Zhou stepped forward, picked him up, removed his shoes, and placed him on the heated brick bed by the window.

Holding onto Lord Pei Yue’s back for support, A'Ze maneuvered to the inner side of the heated brick bed. He reached under a pillow, retrieved a set of nine interlocked rings, and began solving them with deep concentration.

Lord Pei Yue watched him for a moment before smiling faintly. "In that case, A'Ze is at the perfect age to learn the *Three Character Classic*. Once he masters that, the *Thousand Character Classic* should follow."

His rare smile was like sunshine piercing clouds. Ming Tang found herself staring, then quickly averted her gaze, feeling uncharacteristically discomposed. "Does this count as our thoughts coinciding? I’ve been teaching A'Ze exactly that."

She called A'Ze’s name a few times until he looked up curiously. "A'Ze, why don’t you recite what you learned yesterday for Uncle Lord?"

A'Ze visibly perked up. He stood up, straightened his sleeves with much gravity, and beckoned to Hong Ying. "Hong Ying, help."

Then, clasping his hands behind his back, he stood tall. When Hong Ying prompted with the first half of a line—"Men at their birth"—A'Ze loudly completed it.

They continued this antiphonal recitation until A'Ze reached "Application is precious." Hong Ying promptly retreated, wishing she could disappear on the spot.

As long as it wasn’t in front of outsiders, accompanying the young master in recitation was actually quite enjoyable... Hong Ying stole a glance at Lord Pei Yue and decided that the young madam was far more approachable.

Having completed his recitation, A'Ze stood even straighter, full of pride as he awaited Lord Pei Yue’s reaction.

When Lord Pei Yue did not comprehend his meaning, A'Ze grew anxious and called to Ming Tang, "Uncle Lord no know, Mother teach him!"

Lord Pei Yue turned to Ming Tang, who was also smiling, clearly pleased by A'Ze’s closeness with her. Yet he felt an inexplicable pang.

A'Ze was his nephew, whom he had watched grow up. Ming Tang was his wife, with whom he shared marital bonds. How had a few days’ absence made it seem like the two had grown closer to each other than to him?

"What does my wife wish to teach me?"

Ming Tang clapped her hands cheerfully, then gave A'Ze two thumbs up. "A'Ze is amazing!"

A'Ze beamed, though he quickly regained his composure and looked expectantly at Lord Pei Yue. "Uncle Lord know now?"

Ming Tang also turned to Lord Pei Yue, arching an amused eyebrow. "Does His Lordship understand now?" From their first meeting until now, aside from his striking looks, Lord Pei Yue had always impressed Ming Tang as thoughtful and restrained. She couldn’t quite imagine someone like him making such demonstrations just to delight a child.

The maidservants attending them couldn't help but steal glances in their direction.

To be honest, they hadn’t expected the young madam to have such a lively temperament. But since they hadn’t known her before and had no preconceived notions, they adjusted to it rather quickly.

But the heir apparent... now that was something they couldn’t help but look forward to.

Under the expectant gazes—some overt, some covert—from everyone in the room, Pei Yue met Ming Tang’s eyes and arched an eyebrow in return. “What challenge is there in this?”

Mimicking Ming Tang’s actions, he clapped for Pei Ze, then gestured in praise. Finally, he even stood up, lifting Pei Ze into the air and giving him a playful little toss, eliciting loud laughter from the child and subdued laughter from the others.

That glance of his was breathtakingly charming, revealing a youthful vitality rarely seen beneath his usual reserved demeanor. Ming Tang couldn’t help but follow his movements, her face naturally breaking into a smile.

Ming Tang had always carried an air of delicate grace, but when her smile overflowed, it seemed to illuminate her countenance, making her appear even more radiant and lively. Pei Yue glimpsed it out of the corner of his eye and found himself unable to look away. Then, with a slight dip of his gaze, he focused on playing with Pei Ze in his arms.

Only when Pei Ze had laughed his fill and demanded to be put down did Pei Yue lean down, returning him to his original spot before returning to his seat. This time, however, he lowered his voice and addressed weightier matters.

“In a few days, His Majesty will depart for the autumn hunt at Phoenix Ridge. I’ll be responsible for the safety of the imperial procession. As for the journey, heed Mother’s instructions. If you need to find me, have someone inform the head of the household guards, Xiang Nan. I’ll have him come pay his respects to you beforehand so you can recognize him.”

Ming Tang nodded. “I’ll definitely follow Mother’s instructions on the road.” With Mrs. Pei handling the travel arrangements, she certainly wouldn’t presume to complicate things.

Ming Tang had attended autumn hunts before, but back then, she had been an unmarried daughter of the Ming family, bound by many constraints. Going had merely been a precious chance to travel far. After marrying into the Chen family, since Chen Wenyao’s rank was too low to qualify for the hunt, and she couldn’t leave the Chens to follow the Mings to the hunting grounds, it had been years since she’d last gone on such a trip.

Thus, she couldn’t suppress a little eagerness.

Pei Yue continued, “This time, His Majesty is bringing all the princes along. Their consorts will likely accompany them, so you might run into them. Ask Mother about their temperaments in advance so you’re prepared.”

Ming Tang nodded again but ventured to ask curiously, “Is Her Majesty the Empress not going this time?”

She remembered that in the past, the empress had always attended.

The current emperor and empress had married young, and the emperor esteemed her highly. In the palace, there was the Virtuous Consort—a noblewoman from a ducal house who had borne the eldest prince—and the Gentle Consort, from a prominent southern family, who had borne the second prince. Yet the empress, who had only given birth to a daughter, remained as firm as Mount Tai.

It was said that back when the Virtuous Consort hadn’t yet attained one of the four consort titles, after she bore the eldest prince, some had suggested she be promoted to Noble Consort, the highest of the four, as a reward for perpetuating the imperial lineage. But the emperor had rejected the proposal, declaring, “With the empress in the palace, no one may be called ‘noble.’” She was later only elevated to Virtuous Consort.

For grand events like the autumn hunt, the emperor had always brought only the empress, leaving the other consorts behind in the palace.

Hearing Ming Tang’s question, Pei Yue frowned slightly. “At this morning’s court assembly, His Majesty proposed having Her Majesty oversee state affairs in his absence, deliberating affairs of state with the Grand Secretariat. The ministers objected vehemently, so it was temporarily shelved, but from the way His Majesty spoke, he’s resolved to have Her Majesty in the capital. I’m not sure how this will ultimately play out.”

The empress acting as regent? Ming Tang was equally surprised.

But upon reflection, the empress had no sons, was the emperor’s most trusted companion, and the hunt would only last half a month. With the Grand Secretariat involved, she wouldn’t truly wield unchecked power. For the emperor, this was probably far more reassuring than leaving any of the princes behind. Since this lay beyond her influence, Ming Tang quickly accepted the reality.

Then, her eyes brightened. “If I recall, shortly after the hunt is Her Majesty’s significant birthday celebration, right?”

Her jewelry business was about to see a surge in demand.

“Mm. This year marks her milestone birthday, so it’s likely to be a grand affair,” Pei Yue agreed.

First overseeing state affairs, then a lavish birthday fete—whether the regency came to pass or not, it was a singular honor. Though the empress had no sons, the mother of the fourth prince, the Prince of Ping, had been a palace maid serving under her and had always been close to the Phoenix Palace. Some would inevitably try to align with the fourth prince.

The tensions between the Prince of Jin and the Prince of Chu were already restive. Now, with the Prince of Ping being elevated, the future portended greater turmoil...

Lost in their respective thoughts, both fell silent for a moment. Pei Ze, who had been quietly working on the nine-linked rings, finally gave up in frustration, looking at Ming Tang with teary eyes. “A Ze dumb. Can’t solve.”

Ming Tang roused from her thoughts, taking the rings from him. She pretended to struggle with them for a while before sighing in feigned frustration. “What do we do? Auntie’s dumb too. Can’t solve either.”

Then, she handed the rings to Pei Yue. “Let Uncle help you solve them, okay?”

Pei Yue had often played with these as a child, and the memories hadn’t faded. The moment he heard “solve,” he took them and immediately set to work. With effortless ease, the rings separated into nine loops of varying sizes in mere moments, arrayed before Pei Ze.

Then, he realized—perhaps, just maybe—Ming Tang had intended for him to pretend he couldn’t solve them either, to indulge Pei Ze?

He glanced sideways. Sure enough, Pei Ze was staring in shock, looking between Pei Yue and Ming Tang before his eyes welled up with tears. He stood, reaching across the kang table toward Ming Tang with plaintive demand. “Uncle can. A Ze and, Auntie can’t. A Ze and, Auntie sit, together.”

Pei Yue, now deemed “too smart” and thus rejected: “......”

He could only watch as Pei Ze was gathered up by Ming Tang across the table, the child’s face still scrunched in distress. Every time he glanced at Pei Yue, his mouth trembled, and he burrowed deeper into Ming Tang’s arms—while she, amused, happily held him close.

Pei Yue reconstructed the nine-linked rings, shook them once in front of Pei Ze, then deliberately took them apart again, placing each loop neatly on the table one by one.

Then, he looked at Pei Ze and nodded. “If you only know how to hide in Auntie’s arms, you’ll never solve these in your life.”

Pei Ze’s eyes reddened, on the verge of crying again, but he clenched his fists and avowed resolutely, “I can!”

Pei Yue nodded approvingly. “That’s the spirit.” He then reset the rings and handed them back. “Keep practicing, A Ze. You’ll solve them one day.”

Pei Ze took them, bowing his head to resume his earnest efforts.

Watching this, Ming Tang couldn’t help but sigh inwardly: Ah, how easy it is to fool an innocent child. As an adult who’d heard countless variations of “If you don’t work hard, you’ll never advance” and “Keep at it, and success will come one day,” she’d long stopped believing such hollow assurances.

Having bid farewell to the gullible child, the mature adults enjoyed a long-missed dinner with a beauty to feast their eyes on, followed by two rounds of nocturnal pursuits that surpassed their usual experiences. By the time they drifted off to sleep, life felt rather wonderful.

Perhaps the sleep was too sound, for when Ming Tang woke, Pei Yue—with only a single day of leave—had already finished breakfast and left. Languishing in bed, she rolled over lazily before rising to carefully select her attire for the day and heading to Jinghua Hall to pay her respects.

After exchanging a few pleasantries with Mrs. Pei and sensing the conversation winding down, she quickly petitioned: “Mother, may I go out today? There are some matters at the shop I need to arrange.”

“You manage your dowry shops yourself?” Mrs. Pei asked, surprised.

It was common for noble families to include shops in their daughters’ dowries, but these were usually managed by stewards sent by the bride’s family, who simply delivered the profits each year. Ming Tang’s dowry list had included several shops, but Mrs. Pei hadn’t looked closely—she hadn’t realized Ming Tang handled them personally.

“Yes and no,” Ming Tang explained. “The day-to-day operations are handled by the stewards, but major decisions are mine to make.”

Mrs. Pei nodded. “Go ahead, just take enough attendants with you.”

A good life required effort, and it was better for a daughter-in-law to understand outside affairs than to be an absentee proprietor.

Ming Tang rose, curtsied, and left Jinghua Hall with her entourage.

After being taken by Nanny Zhou to wash his hands and face, Pei Ze spent a long time admiring himself in the mirror, confirming he was still a very pretty child today. But when he entered the main room and didn’t see Ming Tang—who usually waited for him there—his face fell instantly, his disappointment plain. “Auntie not, want A Ze?”

Mrs. Pei didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Your aunt had business today and isn’t home. She’ll play with you tomorrow, alright?”

Pei Ze nodded, reluctantly accepting the explanation. That morning, as he played in the lounge of Jinghua Hall as usual, he seemed listless and downcast.

Mrs. Pei handled household affairs while instructing the servants to prepare for the upcoming trip, occasionally glancing at Pei Ze. Seeing him mope, even sighing now and then, she found it both amusing and a little envious: In the past, A Ze had been perfectly content spending entire days with her.

How had it come to this in just a few days? Was half a day without Ming Tang really enough to make him so miserable?