Chapter 107

Chapter 107

Pei Yue returned victorious, his high status commanding immediate attention. The emperor ordered a grand prisoner presentation ceremony, and those in charge of preparations dared not overlook Pei Yue’s opinions. Knowing he was back in the capital, they consulted him on every uncertain detail.

Though weary of the constant demands, Pei Yue had resolved to remain stationed in Xi'an, gradually distancing himself from the capital. To ensure smooth operations in the field, maintaining ties with the capital was essential. His relationships with high-ranking officials were strong enough to prevent deliberate obstruction. However, as the saying goes, "The King of Hell is easy to meet, but his little devils are hard to deal with." Petty officials across various departments could easily cause minor disruptions if they chose.

Moreover, among these officials were not only those from the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Revenue, responsible for his logistics, but also many from the Ministry of Rites—effectively under his father-in-law’s purview. Pei Yue naturally refrained from putting on airs, lest he embarrass himself as Ming Tang's husband. Thus, he made time to hear their plans and offer his responses.

Additionally, with no major affairs in court, the emperor was not particularly busy. These days, he frequently summoned Pei Yue, either reminiscing about the past or inquiring about the frontier. Many others also sought to establish connections with Pei Yue through roundabout means. While Pei Yue could guess their motives and who sent them, deflecting these overtures still consumed his time.

As a result, he was out early and back late every day, with endless people to meet and tasks to complete.

Ming Tang, however, still shuddered at the memory of his boldness upon his return. Seeing him so busy, she felt oddly relieved. But before she could fully recover, she was jolted from her drowsy state at night by Pei Yue's mischievous hands.

It had only been five or six days since his return, and the ceremony wasn’t even fully prepared, yet Ming Tang felt as if she'd been worn to a frazzle. She wondered daily how Pei Yue maintained such boundless energy.

Finally, on the day the ceremony was ready, Ming Tang managed a peaceful night's sleep. The next morning, she was no longer groggy but fully awake, watching Pei Yue buckle on his full armor and stride out the door.

The presentation of captives, designed to display imperial might, was naturally held where the public could witness it. That day, the capital's widest streets were under heavy guard, with fully armed soldiers holding gleaming halberds lining the route all the way to the grand square before the imperial city.

Every conceivable viewing spot around the square was packed with spectators. Some even sprinted out the instant curfew ended to secure the best spots for this rare spectacle.

When the ceremony began, the crowd knelt before the emperor on the city tower. After the ceremonial announcements were made, Pei Yue, clad in military attire, stepped forward, instantly commanding everyone's attention. Countless young men were inspired by his bearing, their minds made up to enlist.

The Third Prince, now a prisoner, still wore a defiant expression but had learned compliance in captivity. When required, he obediently lowered his noble head, kowtowing to the emperor before the masses.

This sight set many spectators' blood boiling.

Though the emperor felt no overwhelming triumph, witnessing the leader of an enemy nation kneel before him in front of thousands stirred more excitement than he’d anticipated. Ignoring his ministers' protests, he rose from his throne and stepped to the edge of the wall, waving to the crowd.

For residents of the capital, opportunities to see the emperor in person were rare. The last time such a chance arose was during the Dragon Boat Festival races years ago. Thus, the sight of a figure in bright yellow robes sparked collective excitement—proving their early arrival worthwhile.

The imperial guards maintaining order had a harder time, ensuring the excited masses didn’t surge forward. Unarmed commoners couldn’t be manhandled, and chaos would have been difficult to manage.

Fortunately, the disturbance was short-lived. As the rites continued and the imperial eunuch proclaimed the edict, solemnity again descended on the assembly.

The ceremony had begun at sunrise and concluded near noon. When the emperor’s decree revealed that the high-ranking captive wouldn’t be kept in comfortable confinement but instead imprisoned and executed in autumn, the crowd burst into cheers.

Those with loved ones in Shaanxi shed open tears, many shouting, "The emperor's wisdom shines!" After all, this man had recently commanded troops against their people. That he hadn’t been killed on the spot by Crown Prince Pei was already a mercy. If the ceremony had spared the culprit, how could they face their fallen kin's spirits?

With this major event concluded and his enemy meeting a fitting end—soon to join his elder brother in death—Pei Yue finally relaxed. He was relieved the emperor hadn’t changed his mind after their meeting and had upheld the death sentence.

With matters settled, Pei Yue made the rounds with assembled nobles and officials before mounting his horse to return home. On such an occasion, only the imperial princes, high-ranking nobles, and ministers had reserved seats. Mrs. Pei and the others had stayed home, likely already receiving their rewards.

However, the dense crowds soon trapped Pei Yue, making progress agonizingly slow. Even his swift warhorse, Tàxuě, could only creep along with the crowd.

The Pei residence was indeed jubilant—imperial honors had been bestowed. Since both women already held the highest honorary titles for noblewomen, their gifts consisted of jewels, silks, and other imperial tributes, all of exceptional quality. Though the Pei family lacked for nothing, these rewards, bestowed for Pei Yue’s merits, carried special significance. They were carefully stored for future use in clothing.

Pei Ze, still shorter than a spear, was granted an honorary fifth-rank military position, entitling him to an annual stipend. If he chose to join the military later, his rank would already be established, regardless of his actual role.

The most charming detail was a miniature official’s uniform, identical to the real thing but scaled down, utterly charming in its detail.

Upon receiving the edict, Mrs. Pei laughed at the sight of the tiny robe: "The officials have outdone themselves!"

Delivering joyous news to such households was a coveted assignment among the palace eunuchs, who were usually haughty but now vied for the privilege. Not only was the task light, but they were also treated as honored guests and sent off with generous red envelopes. Coincidentally, the eunuch dispatched this time was Li Yun, the same who had proclaimed Ming Tang's title as Mrs. Pei.

Li Yun, ever-smiling, hid the fact that he’d been bested again by Wang Shen, missing a ceremonial posting. Unwilling to take orders from Wang Shen, he’d used his seniority to claim this pleasant assignment.

Hearing Mrs. Pei’s remark, he chuckled, "If I may say, madam, this was our suggestion to the officials. The Imperial Needlework Bureau toiled day and night to finish it. The only pity is we didn’t know the young master’s measurements, so it might need adjustments."

Mrs. Pei understood perfectly, discreetly increasing the red envelope’s contents.

Li Yun accepted it without hesitation, saying smoothly, "The young master’s bright future is evident. I’ll shamelessly bask in his good fortune and share it with the needlework ladies—they toiled tirelessly for days."

His meaning was clear. Mrs. Pei and Ming Tang promptly handed over another pouch.

Only then did Li Yun appear satisfied. "The ladies are ever gracious, never looking down on the likes of us. With such upbringing, the young master will surely grow into a man of virtue and talent. Truth be told, the officials initially planned a sixth-rank honorary title, to be upgraded if the Crown Prince achieved more. But the emperor deemed it too meager and raised it. He even said that if the Crown Prince hadn’t yet inherited his title, granting the young master the status of heir apparent would’ve been fitting."

Having divulged enough to justify his rewards, Li Yun bowed and withdrew with his attendants.

Mrs. Pei shook her head. "Li Yun was always greedy, but now he’s grown worse." Such blatant solicitation and careless leaks of palace affairs—how did the emperor tolerate him?

In her view, such behavior might be excusable in a consort’s palace, but the emperor’s inner circle was full of capable men. How could someone so undiscerning remain?

Ming Tang speculated, "Perhaps he’s nearing retirement and wants to cash in while he can."

Mrs. Pei considered this plausible but still disapproved. "He shouldn’t be so impatient. Wang Shen is seven or eight years his senior. Though currently overshadowed, his fortunes could turn. If Li Yun acts recklessly now, even if Wang Shen steps down, he won’t be the successor."

Dismissing the matter, Ming Tang praised instead, "The idea of the miniature uniform was clever."

She knew the honorary title mattered less to Pei Ze, who would inherit a noble rank. The charming little uniform, however, delighted everyone.

Indeed, not just the women were thrilled—Pei Ze was overjoyed.

Summoned from his lessons to receive the edict, Pei Ze emerged as the highest-ranked in his school, now an official entitled to be addressed as "my lord." Though he didn’t fully grasp the implications, the uniform, resembling his uncle’s court robes, excited him immensely.

He’d long admired his uncle’s majestic attire but was told such garments couldn’t be replicated. Now, he had his own—bestowed by the court, to wear as he pleased.

Though he’d never met the emperor, Pei Ze instinctively deemed him a good man in his simplistic worldview.

Miraculously, he remembered his lessons weren’t over. Suppressing his excitement, he composedly bowed and returned to class.

Ming Tang was surprised. "Pei Ze has such self-control now?" She’d considered dismissing class early due to the disruption.

Mrs. Pei, however, found it expected. "As it should be. A mere outfit shouldn’t disrupt his duties."

Did they think her sons were born paragons of virtue? Their upbringing had been meticulous. When Pei Ze was disciplined by Juren Lu, it was at her behest, to correct his attitude.

Seeing his improvement, Juren Lu, fond of his pupil, had even asked if further "lessons" were necessary.

Mrs. Pei had already decided: if Pei Ze couldn’t wait until after class today, he’d get another.

Unaware his restraint had boosted his credibility, Pei Ze returned to find his classmates lined up, bowing in jest: "Greetings, Lord Pei!"

Unfazed, he strode past, waving magnanimously. "At ease, at ease."

Before he finished, Mu Qing swatted his back. "Such thick skin!"

Pei Ze retaliated playfully, quickly overpowering Mu Qing, who surrendered.

The others clamored for details about the edict. At their age, the miniature uniform elicited gasps, while the honorary title barely registered.

Juren Lu watched silently, resuming lessons once the excitement waned. Seizing the moment, he switched topics, explaining the military ranks—a subject he’d studied privately to avoid appearing ignorant before his future-soldier pupils.

The children, oblivious to their teacher’s efforts, simply admired his vast knowledge, which pleased him greatly.

After a full day of lessons, Pei Ze earned a small reward: a private feast in his courtyard for him and his friends, prepared for their post-class celebration.

With official duties concluded and having received the Emperor's directive to temporarily remain in the capital instead of departing for Xi'an, Pei Yue found himself in the most leisurely period since he began his official career. The Golden Crow Guards had already been handed over to others, and though he still held the title of Commander-in-Chief, he could neither intervene in capital affairs nor manage matters within his jurisdiction from afar. For the time being, he was left with nothing to do.

This, however, proved troublesome for Ming Tang. In the first few days after his return, his early departures and late returns had already exhausted her. Now, with nothing to occupy his time, he spent nearly half the day by her side. Though he remained perfectly proper during daylight hours, at night he clung to her relentlessly, as if trying to make up for the more than half a year they had been apart.

Every time she thought to refuse, a mere few seconds of meeting Pei Yue’s gaze would leave her inexplicably yielding to his wishes. Moreover, Pei Yue seemed to understand her physical condition better than she did herself. Though she often felt fatigued afterward, a single day’s rest was enough to recover, leaving her with no excuse to protest.

After handling a few household chores, accompanying Ming Tang on a visit to her family, enthusiastically observing her and Mrs. Pei discussing clothing designs, and personally witnessing Pei Ze’s academic progress over the past half year—even offering some pointers on his archery—Pei Yue had attended to over a dozen matters, both significant and trivial. Before he knew it, half a month had passed, and Ming Tang’s monthly courses arrived.

She eagerly informed Pei Yue of this news, intending to sleep separately for a few days. However, Pei Yue’s firm refusal forced her to relent. As she lay in his arms at night, she found her sleep more restful than ever.

After a few days of complete rest, she felt refreshed and fully revitalized. For the first time in a while, she actively inquired about Pei Yue’s whereabouts, only to learn he was in the study.

Ming Tang followed the trail and, before she could speak, was beckoned by Pei Yue to the desk, where a floor plan of a grand five-courtyard residence lay spread out.

"This is the layout of the Commander-in-Chief’s estate. The front hall naturally cannot be altered. The rear courtyards house the families of several deputy generals, while the rest are allocated to the Commander-in-Chief’s own family. Since the previous occupant’s family moved out, it has stood empty for over half a year. Though this blueprint doesn’t reveal much, it’s good for you to familiarize yourself with it. The Emperor will embark on the imperial autumn hunt this year, and I am obliged to accompany him. Afterward, I will likely leave the capital. I have already petitioned the Emperor for permission to bring all of you with me, and His Majesty consented."

Traditionally, frontier commanders were not permitted to bring their entire families with them. Even the Princess Consort of Yan, who was half a member of the imperial family, had her father serving as a Commander-in-Chief far away. Despite her mother’s passing, her youngest brother was required to remain in the capital, separated from their father as a precaution.

However, the Duke of Dingguo’s household was an exception. First, the family was renowned for its generations of heroic martyrs—even losing an eldest legitimate son on the frontier in the current dynasty. Second, the main branch of the family was now reduced to just a few members, with Pei Ze being the sole surviving bloodline. Pei Yue and his wife were deeply devoted, and though stationed abroad, he had no interest in other women. His wish to bring his wife along was understandable. Leaving behind only an elderly woman and a child in the capital would have struck even the Emperor as somewhat inappropriate.

Moreover, upon learning that Pei Yue was personally raising his late brother’s posthumously born son and showed no intention of ever having one of his own, the Emperor’s estimation of him rose another notch. In the Emperor’s view, a man who could resist the urge to leave behind his own bloodline was unlikely to harbor ambitions of rising further in rank.

Thus, after Pei Yue expressed his heartfelt wish to serve on the frontier, overseeing border defenses, and requested to bring his family along, the Emperor deliberated at length before finally granting his approval.

Unaware of the Emperor’s thought process, Pei Yue nevertheless understood that this rare permission stemmed from extraordinary trust. Outwardly composed, he inwardly felt profound relief. That the ruler of the realm remained so discerning at his age was a blessing for both the court and the people. If the next sovereign possessed the same magnanimity, the future would be even more secure.

Noticing Ming Tang’s silence, Pei Yue grew uneasy. Hesitantly, he added, "The place is admittedly modest. You’ve never lived so close to strangers before, but official regulations require those in my position to reside in the Commander-in-Chief’s residence. Private residences are not permitted."

As Pei Yue had said, the blueprint revealed little. Ming Tang could only discern that their allotted space, though modest compared to the Duke of Dingguo’s sprawling estate, was not particularly small.

The thought that Pei Yue had endured such conditions for so long, while she had yet to experience them and was already being fretted over, amused her. She smiled faintly. "I’ve never lived in such a residence before. It seems I won’t lack for company." She blinked playfully. "As the wife of their superior, if anyone dares slight me, I’ll blow the pillow wind. They wouldn’t dare offend me."

Her rare show of playful arrogance left Pei Yue momentarily speechless.

He knew Ming Tang was comforting him and reaffirming her willingness to leave the capital—as if anyone in the capital would dare mistreat her either. Warmth filled his heart as he leaned down, enveloping her from behind, his fingers tracing the blueprint as he described each section in detail.

When he reached the main courtyard, he sighed regretfully. "Once, I saw a vendor selling two fine specimens of Western crabapple by the roadside. At the time, I didn’t want to plant them alone in the courtyard, so I passed. I’ve never seen such fine ones since."

Ming Tang laughed. "What’s so difficult about that? Tomorrow, we’ll buy two and plant them together at home. I’ve heard *Fengtai* has many flower growers. Unless you insist on rare cultivars, anything that can grow in the capital can be found there. Surely they’ll have Western crabapple. If that’s not enough, we’ll plant more in Xi’an. Do you really believe, after missing those two, all of Xi’an wouldn’t have another?"

Pei Yue paused, then chuckled ruefully. "I truly forgot that was an option." Back then, alone and far from home, he had dwelled only on the missed opportunity, forgetting they would reunite and have countless chances to create new memories.

With nothing else pressing, the two rose early the next day and set off for *Fengtai* together.

It being neither festival nor holiday, the flower growers were surprised to see visitors. Noting the couple’s noble demeanor, they treated them with extra care. Upon learning they sought Western crabapple, the growers relaxed, guiding them through the nursery while explaining each variety.

Ming Tang was no expert on plants, and the family garden mostly featured common species. This was her first time encountering so many unfamiliar plants, and she gazed in wonder at each as if touring a botanical garden.

When they reached the Western crabapple section, she was at a loss. Fortunately, Pei Yue seemed to have done his research, engaging the grower in knowledgeable discussion. Mistaking them for connoisseurs, the grower wouldn’t dare cheat them, ultimately selling them the two finest specimens.

Upon their sudden whim to transplant two trees, the household had already prepared a corner of the garden in their absence—soil turned, tools ready, and the grower standing by.

Ming Tang shook her head at the sight. "What a grand production."

Unbeknownst to her, the grower watched approvingly as the couple planted the trees with proper spacing, ensuring healthy growth. Unlike other eccentric patrons who uprooted prized peonies to plant cheap vegetables in pursuit of rustic charm—a baffling affectation among scholars—these two understood what a garden was meant for.

Finally planting the trees together, Pei Yue felt as if a weight had lifted. His smile lasted right up until the day before the imperial autumn hunt, when he summoned the grower to reiterate meticulous care instructions for the two trees.

Only after receiving firm assurances did he set out with his family the next morning, following the imperial procession to *Phoenix Ridge*, with a light heart.