Chapter 67

Chapter 67

After a day’s rest, the Duke of Dingguo awoke feeling much lighter. Yet, mindful of the physician’s advice to "avoid anger and rest more," he remained in bed, recuperating. When Hu the Scholar entered, the Duke’s eyelids fluttered open. "Where’s the medicine?" he asked.

Hu the Scholar had just come in from the cold, and the sudden warmth of the room made him shiver. Fortunately, he hadn't spilled the medicine in his hands and quickly presented it to the Duke.

The Duke took the bowl but didn’t drink immediately. Instead, he sought confirmation: "Did you brew this yourself?"

Of course not. Brewing medicine was hardly a task for a scholar like him, whose usual duties involved merely keeping the Duke company and offering counsel. A true gentleman kept his distance from the kitchen; he had never even set foot in one his entire life, let alone personally brewed herbs.

But since the Duke wouldn’t know otherwise, Hu the Scholar bowed and replied, "Yes, I kept a close watch the entire time. As soon as it was ready, I brought it to you myself."

He had indeed kept a close watch—though he had simply pulled up a stool nearby, observing the maids brew the medicine while subtly prying for household gossip.

Satisfied, the Duke let out a relieved sigh. He picked up the small white jade bowl and, following the physician’s instructions, slowly sipped the bitter brew spoon by spoon. The effect seemed immediate; his chest felt noticeably more comfortable.

Handing the empty bowl back to Hu the Scholar, the Duke rose and began pacing leisurely around the room, occasionally pausing to admire the assorted curios displayed on the antique shelves.

Then he remembered the ledger delivered the day before. The accountants had even included these items in their calculations, claiming that since they had been taken from the storeroom and put on display for appreciation, they deserved a usage fee.

The Duke frowned, his fleeting good mood interrupted by a faint sense of irritation. He quickly composed himself.

A noise came from behind—Hu the Scholar had returned after delivering the bowl. Seeing that the Duke seemed in decent spirits, he hesitated before cautiously advising, "With all due respect, since Your Grace has returned to the estate, Her Ladyship wouldn't bother herself with such trivial matters. You need only relax these few days, and after the New Year, you may return to the villa."

From yesterday until now, though he hadn’t had to lift a finger himself, Hu the Scholar had no desire to linger in the cramped tea room. If the Madam truly intended to meddle, with the Duke back under her roof, nearly all supplies came from the household—she could easily poison his very teacup. Why bother tampering with the medicine?

Having served the Duke for some time, Hu the Scholar had built some rapport with him. When he offered advice, the Duke listened quietly and nodded. "You’re right."

Hu the Scholar let out a quiet sigh, a flicker of joy at the Duke’s receptiveness crossing his mind—until the Duke added, "But for the next few days, you’ll continue overseeing the medicine."

Hu the Scholar drew a deep breath, feeling like a fool for having spoken so much. He first acknowledged the Duke’s order, then tried again: "In my humble view, if Your Grace simply pays the household dues in full..."

Mention of the dues made the Duke’s blood boil. Remembering the physician’s warning, he took another deep breath, his voice muffled. "I summoned the physician yesterday. What did they say?"

"Ah..." Hu the Scholar struggled briefly before confessing, "An accountant came, saying that since Your Grace is ill, the supplies would be adjusted accordingly. They brought a revised bill, stating that the Young Madam insisted on 'balancing the books properly, with refunds or additional payments as needed.'"

Beyond that, not a single word of concern had been uttered.

Hu the Scholar couldn’t help but think the Duke was overly suspicious. It was clear the other side didn’t care about him—only his money.

With the New Year approaching, the Duke had collapsed in a fit of rage, yet not a soul had offered a word of sympathy. The only remotely related remark was the jarring "settle accounts fairly." The Duke’s brows furrowed deeply. "Pay whatever they ask. Just send the money over quickly."

He never wanted to hear the words "household dues" again.

Without waiting for Hu the Scholar’s reminder, he added, "And send Yan Hui’s deed to that brazen woman." Shameless woman—if he didn’t comply, he’d likely have people hounding him daily for it.

As for Yan Hui, he'd once fancied her. Had she managed to seduce Pei Yue and borne him a child, the household drama would've been priceless.

He wondered if Lin Shi, who had personally chosen her daughter-in-law, would have ordered Yan Hui flogged to death, just as she had in her youth.

What a pity... That Ming chit was truly detestable, acting so swiftly! Now he had to surrender a maid for nothing.

Had he known Ming Tang was so bold, he might as well have had his way with the girl himself.

In the accounting office, the clerks counted the banknotes sent by the Duke and could hardly believe their eyes. "He actually paid in full?"

Since the Young Madam had hinted that "the Duke’s items must be of the highest quality," they had taken the liberty of padding the expenses on the list, expecting someone to notice and haggle. Yet the payment had arrived without a fuss.

For accountants, nothing was more delightful than a well-funded ledger. Though the money wasn’t theirs, the feel of banknotes in hand was intoxicating. The clerks were in high spirits all day, grinning at everyone they saw.

On his way home after work, one clerk spotted a street vendor selling candied hawthorns and bought five or six sticks to share with his family, filling the house with joy.

As the Lunar New Year drew nearer, holiday cheer filled the air. Though the clerk’s wife gave him an earful about wasting money, the sight of the children’s smiles softened her. "Why so happy?"

"When the masters do well, we benefit too. Since the Young Madam married in, there have been handouts galore. The other day, when her father was promoted, we got another. In a few days, it’ll be New Year’s Eve—another round is due. Even if I wanted to sulk, I couldn’t!"

After drinking a bowl of hot soup with satisfaction, the clerk watched his children scamper around the house, laughing and shouting, without a hint of annoyance. His grin widened, and when the eldest grew tired of chasing the others, he egged them on to keep playing.

For servants in wealthy households, the masters’ prosperity meant timely wages and generous bonuses—naturally, their moods were cheerful as larks.

As for what official position the Young Madam’s father now held, he only needed to know it was a high one. It wasn’t as if it affected him directly.

However, for the tea-house philosophers who loved pontificating, the matter was a complete shocker.

Those who paid attention to politics knew that when Minister Li had faced repeated impeachments, he wouldn't even dignify them with a reply. Now that the truth was out—the slanderer of Minister Li’s eldest son had been exiled and his property confiscated—his critics fell silent. Minister Li’s stance of "innocence needs no defense" had even earned praise from scholars.

Now, Grand Secretary Yu, the Chief Grand Secretary, was over a decade older than Minister Li. Barring mishaps, once Grand Secretary Yu retired, Minister Li’s seniority virtually guaranteed him the position.

When Grand Secretary Yu first heard the news, he was so surprised he openly asked Minister Li his thoughts in front of several other grand secretaries.

Minister Li was remarkably candid: "My little grandson shows great promise in his studies. I’m not getting any younger, and the court has no shortage of capable men—they won't miss me. But my grandson needs guidance. I’d rather retire while I can still hold a brush and teach him. Who knows? He might even rank among the top scholars someday and become a pillar of the state."

He tugged at his scholar's beard, looking quite pleased with himself.

Grand Secretary Yu, who was vexed by his own mediocre descendants and feared his family’s decline after his retirement: "...Damn the man."

Having resolved to retire, Minister Li did so promptly. His timing was impeccable—the imperial decree arrived the day before the sealing ceremony. After sharing a few heartfelt words with his fellow grand secretaries, he skipped the ceremony entirely and rested at home.

Vice Minister Ming, who had received hints from Minister Li but hadn’t expected things to move so quickly, was caught off guard. He immediately instructed Mrs. Ming to keep the household in line and avoid any arrogance following his promotion.

Being an old married couple, Mrs. Ming didn’t spare his feelings. She gave him a look. "Did you really need to remind me?"

Seeing his awkward expression, she added, "Don’t worry. I’ve already given orders. Aside from close relatives, we’re refusing all gifts."

The newly promoted Minister Ming hurriedly stood and poured her a cup of tea by way of apology. "A wise wife is a man’s greatest blessing."

Mrs. Ming accepted it, took a slow sip, and graciously let it go. Remembering the letter Ming Tang had sent with the gift list, she complained with a smile, "That girl You Niang is growing downright cheeky. In today’s letter, she actually said the two of us are now 'keeping pace with each other.' If word got out, wouldn’t it damage her reputation?"

Her daughter, having married into nobility, had been granted the title of "Madam Heir Apparent," starting at the first rank. Mrs. Ming, however, had only risen in status after her husband’s promotion. Delighted yet exasperated by her daughter’s letter, she was torn between amusement and exasperation.

Minister Ming also shook his head at Ming Tang’s words. "When she visits on the second day of the New Year, be sure to lecture her properly. We can’t have her slipping up in public and causing trouble."

Hearing this, Mrs. Ming, who had just been complaining, took offense. "You Niang has always been like this—plays the fool at home but perfectly composed in public. When has anyone ever found fault with her behavior outside?"

In the Tranquil Splendor Hall, Ming Tang, unaware that her letter had sparked a minor quarrel between her parents, was enjoying the lively gathering.

Had she been present, she might have egged them on with delight.

It was New Year’s Eve, and the Pei family had gathered in Madam Pei’s Tranquil Splendor Hall to usher in the new year together.

The ondol heating kept the room as warm as spring. Since that dim-witted bird had been moved to another room by Madam Pei, Pei Ze had insisted that Ming Tang bring the little horse along.

Perhaps recalling its time in the hall or sensing familiar scents, the horse relaxed after a brief wariness and resumed its usual imperious air, leaping onto a table and striding with clumsy elegance, holding court.

Pei Ze, playing with the horse in the hall for the first time, was beside himself with joy. After chasing it around for a while, he was sweating buckets.

Tugging impatiently at his neckband, he whined to take off his overrobe. But the adults, fearing he might take sick from the sudden temperature change, wouldn't hear of it.

As they stood at a stalemate, the array of snacks brought in by the maids outside instantly caught Pei Ze's attention. Wiping the sweat from his forehead and glancing at the table now so crowded that Little Horse had no place to step and had retreated pitifully to a nearby armchair, Pei Ze hesitated for a few breaths before firmly deciding to first deal with the uncomfortable clothes wrapped around him. He stretched out his arms and said, "Take these off~"

Seeing his impatience, Ming Tang beckoned him over. "Come here, let Auntie help you."

Pei Ze immediately perked up triumphantly, casting a glance at Nanny Zhou, who stood nearby but didn’t assist, then grinned at Ming Tang before trotting over to her, arms still outstretched in anticipation.

Maintaining this posture, Pei Ze first got to enjoy Ming Tang personally wiping his sweat. Then, with a sense of superiority, he proceeded to introduce each unfamiliar snack to his aunt, even turning to seek help when he encountered ones he didn’t recognize himself.

After much bustling, finally satisfying his aunt’s curiosity, Pei Ze let out a long sigh. He whined, "Mother, so pitiful, never tasted these~"

Though normally restricted by Mrs. Pei’s rules, leaving him few chances to indulge, it didn’t stop Pei Ze from now expressing pity toward Ming Tang.

Ming Tang nodded. "Indeed, I'm so pitiful."

Pei Ze, still with his arms outstretched, suddenly noticed his arms were growing sore. Looking down, he found his clothes still firmly on and asked, puzzled, "Huh? Not hot anymore?"