Chapter 47: Household Register

Chapter 47: The Register

Qiao Wan hadn't expected that just as she was pondering Chu Wujiu's enrollment in the academy, she would encounter one of its teachers.

Yuejian Academy was the most esteemed academy in Jiuyuan City, not for the noble birth of its students, but because it embraced talent and wisdom over status. It served as a beacon of enlightenment for many scholars from humble backgrounds.

Wen Xubai did not linger. He took back his book, brushed off the snowflakes, and cupped his hands in a bow, saying, "I apologize for the earlier collision. I have matters to attend to and must take my leave."

Qiao Wan nodded, about to lead Chu Wujiu back, when she sensed something and turned to look.

Wen Xubai had gone to a nearby clinic, where an apprentice stood at the door holding two oil-paper packages. Seeing him approach, the apprentice said, "Young Master Wen, your herbs."

Wen Xubai handed over the payment and nodded genially. "Thank you."

The apprentice, noticing his gaunt, pale face and the patched shoulder of his robe, couldn't help but add, "Young Master Wen, my master said your mother is frail and requires long-term care. You needn't overexert yourself. It would be ill if you ruined your own health."

Wen Xubai offered the apprentice a gentle smile. "Thank you for your concern. I am well." With that, he bowed slightly, opened his umbrella, and walked away with unhurried steps.

The apprentice knew he hadn't taken the advice to heart. He shook his head, sighed, and re-entered the clinic.

Qiao Wan watched Wen Xubai's slender figure recede, seemingly merging with the swirling snow.

"Sister Wan, you've been staring at him for so long!" a displeased, childish voice came from below, and Qiao Wan felt her hand gently tugged.

Qiao Wan looked down at Chu Wujiu and pinched his cheek. "What were you about to call me earlier? Mother?"

Chu Wujiu obediently let her pinch him, pouting and muttering softly, "You started ignoring me the moment you saw him."

Qiao Wan paused, recalling the fleeting illusion she had felt earlier, and silently thought, "How unlucky." She then led Chu Wujiu back to the Jinyin Zhai.

Due to the snow, there were few customers at the Jinyin Zhai. Only a scattered few young women were trying on hairpins.

Yicui was whispering something to the bookkeeper. Seeing Qiao Wan return, she quickly poured a cup of hot tea and handed it to her. "Miss, it's cold outside. Warm your hands first."

Qiao Wan took the tea and handed her the pastries she had brought back. "Try these. They taste a bit like pastries from Lingjing."

Yicui happily unwrapped them, shared a few pieces with Chu Wujiu and the bookkeeper, and then began to savor them.

Qiao Wan couldn't help but smile at her satisfied expression. Over the past three years, whether she was ill or struggling to adjust to the new environment due to her sensitive stomach, Yicui had always been by her side, caring for her.

"By the way, Miss," Yicui said after swallowing a bite, "did you meet that Guo Wuan?"

Qiao Wan shrugged at her.

Yicui breathed a sigh of relief. In her heart, even if her mistress was no longer a princess, she was still far too distinguished for a merchant family.

Qiao Wan could see Yicui's thoughts and found them both amusing and a little exasperating.

Just then, a squad of constables passed by outside.

Yicui stepped forward and gently closed the door. "I heard Great Qi is at war again. They've almost reached the Alhe Tribe. I hope it doesn't affect us here."

The Alhe Tribe was located northwest of Molan. In just over two years, Great Qi seemed poised to unify the entire northern region.

Before Qiao Wan could respond, the bookkeeper interjected, "Don't worry, Miss Yicui. Molan and Great Qi have always been on good terms. Their people have close ties, so nothing will happen."

Qiao Wan thought of what she had overheard at the tavern and silently agreed.

Yicui, however, paused and whispered, "Miss, do you think Great Qi will attack the Li Kingdom someday?"

Everyone knew that three years ago, the Grand Astrologer of Great Li had suddenly announced to the world that Princess Zhaoyang was not the chosen one and that everything had been orchestrated by Noble Consort Yun. As a result, Princess Zhaoyang and Noble Consort Yun were placed under house arrest in the palace. The emperor, enraged, fell seriously ill and neglected state affairs, leaving the crown prince to oversee the government with the assistance of Minister Wen.

Great Qi was furious, and relations with the Li Kingdom deteriorated.

Later, for some unknown reason, the crown prince of Great Qi declared, "Since Princess Changle willingly boarded the wedding carriage that day, she is my wife, Li Muxuan. Though she has passed away, I am willing to enshrine her tablet and be buried with her in the imperial mausoleum after my death."

This statement shocked the world.

Not long after, the emperor of Great Qi issued an edict stating that Great Qi and the Li Kingdom were no longer related by marriage, which finally quelled the gossip.

Now, with Great Qi advancing so aggressively, it seemed possible they might even annex the Li Kingdom.

Qiao Wan knew what Yicui was worried about. When she first heard that the Grand Astrologer had publicly revealed Qiao Qingni's fate, she was also stunned for a long time.

To go from a princess with a noble destiny to a sinner who deceived the people—such a fall was enough to crush anyone.

Without Mu Chi's approval, the Grand Astrologer would never have dared to make such an announcement.

On second thought, since all military forces in the Li Kingdom were now under Mu Chi's control, even if Great Qi wanted to attack, it would not be easy.

Qiao Wan looked at Yicui and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry."

Yicui nodded gently.

Qiao Wan glanced around and noticed Chu Wujiu had already run to the backyard. "Let's focus on getting that little rascal enrolled in the academy first," she said helplessly.

Yicui was about to respond when the young women finished selecting their hairpins, so she had to attend to them first.

Qiao Wan looked at the snow falling outside. It seemed unlikely they would be busy today, so she got up and headed to the backyard, pondering Chu Wujiu's enrollment as she walked.

In the past, as long as one's household registration was accurate and their background clean, they could enroll in an academy.

But now, due to the strained relations between Great Qi and the Li Kingdom, and Molan's reliance on Great Qi for protection, while Molan privately supported merchants from the Li Kingdom, they openly restricted Li Kingdom citizens from enrolling in academies or holding official positions.

To change one's household registration to Molan citizenship, they had to undergo verification by the Great Li authorities.

Fearing her identity might be exposed, Qiao Wan had to abandon that idea.

But it wasn't entirely hopeless. For example, they could use money to smooth things over, or…

Marry someone from Great Qi or Molan.

This was one of the reasons Qiao Wan hadn't outright rejected the prefect's wife.

However, she wasn't the type to compromise herself. If she were to marry, it would have to be to a gentle, pleasing man whose mere sight would lift her spirits.

Qiao Wan suddenly thought of something and paused in her steps.

Uncle Zhang emerged from his room holding a letter and saw Qiao Wan standing under the eaves, lost in thought. He waited a moment before approaching. "Miss."

Qiao Wan snapped out of her reverie. "Uncle Zhang?"

"Miss, this is this month's letter," Uncle Zhang said with a timid smile. "I'm sorry to trouble you again."

"Please don't say that," Qiao Wan replied, taking the letter. "When the courier from the post station arrives, I'll ask them to deliver it for you."

Although Uncle Zhang had come to Jiuyuan, he still worried about his missing granddaughter. Every month, he wrote a letter to his neighbor in Shangjun, asking if anyone had visited their old home.

However, the post station rarely handled letters for common folk, and it often took months for the letters to be delivered.

Later, Qiao Wan became acquainted with the magistrate's wife and vaguely mentioned her need to send a letter, so the magistrate's wife helped by putting in a word with the courier.

Uncle Zhang expressed his thanks and went to the stables to feed the horses.

Qiao Wan glanced at the envelope in her hand, on which was written "Jinyin Zhai, Qiao Wan" in Uncle Zhang's handwriting, then turned and walked out.

*

The winter in Shang Commandery was exceptionally cold.

On the outskirts of the city, flames lit up the sky, and occasional sounds of weapon drills could be heard, creating a grim and chilling atmosphere.

Inside the tent, several generals clad in cold silver armor were solemnly studying a strategic map, occasionally casting respectful glances at the white-robed man seated at the head.

"The battle for Sheng Prefecture ended in just over twenty days. Alhe now only holds Sui Prefecture in the northwest. However, the terrain is either mountainous or aquatic, which could hinder our troops' advance."

"Moreover, the rugged mountains make it easy to defend and hard to attack. If the enemy ambushes from the peaks and hurls stones from above, our losses would be severe."

"If we take the water route, the Liao River and the western Qu River have already frozen over in this cold. Marching on ice would be difficult for the horses to adapt to."

An elderly man dressed in a dark robe and wearing an official headdress glanced at the man at the head who was casually toying with an exquisite dagger. He then pointed two fingers to the southeast of Sui Prefecture on the map: "Although Molan is a small country, the land beyond the Yin Mountains is flat and open. We could pass through there and head straight for Sui Prefecture."

The man in the main seat was gripping the dagger, its sharp blade tracing along an existing scar on the back of his right hand. Drops of blood welled up along the wound, stark against his pale skin, making the character appear even deeper.

Though the others were accustomed to his habit of carving words into his hand with a blade, they fell silent for a moment before someone spoke up: "Would the small nation of Molan grant us passage?"

Another replied: "His Highness has personally written the order. Molan has always relied on Great Qi for protection—how would they dare refuse?"

After these words, everyone turned to look at the man in the main seat: "Your Highness?"

The man slowly raised his head. His deathly pale face featured finely arched brows and long, captivating eyes, but his gaze was dark and profound, sweeping over everyone with a chilling intensity. Finally, his eyes settled on the elderly man, and he smiled: "We'll proceed as the teacher suggests."

Hearing this, the others knew the matter was settled and said no more, bowing before preparing to leave.

Just then, a soldier rushed in from outside: "Your Highness, the Crown Prince, the rear camp's provisions are on fire. Suspected enemy attack."

At this, the other officers were alarmed and made to rush to the rear camp to assess the situation.

The man glanced at the soldier, his eyes sweeping over the exposed bridge of the soldier's nose. He paid no further attention, instead rising lazily and slowly heading toward the tent behind him.

The soldier kneeling on the ground suddenly leaped up, brandishing a broadsword to strike at the man. Without turning around or showing any surprise, the man sidestepped slightly to avoid the blow.

The soldier continued to attack, but the man seemed to predict every move, evading wearily. The hand holding the dagger beneath his brocade fur-lined coat never moved.

Instead, the officers outside, hearing the commotion, rushed in and quickly surrounded and apprehended the soldier.

The soldier's helmet fell off, revealing a face with distinct non-Han features: "Li Muxuan, you've annexed several cities of my tribe. I will haunt you even as a ghost!"

The man's previously languid expression tightened slightly. He looked at the soldier for a long moment before letting out a low laugh: "I dislike the name you just mentioned."

The soldier spat fiercely: "You madman! How many of my tribesmen have died by your hand? I will never let you rest, even as a ghost!"

The man looked down at a drop of blood that had splattered onto his dagger, the smile on his lips fading. Suddenly, he said: "Release him."

The officers were startled, looking at him in confusion.

The man merely raised his hand. The officers glanced toward the tent entrance, where a plainly dressed guard outside nodded at them, and they cautiously released the soldier.

The man walked over to the soldier with his dagger, lightly tapping the broadsword on the ground with his toe. The broadsword sprang up, and he tossed it to the soldier: "You've dirtied its hilt. I want your arms in return."

The soldier's hand trembled as he gripped the broadsword. Only now did he truly see the man before him, feeling as if he were being watched by a venomous snake, a chill creeping up his spine.

In the next moment, the man shot toward him like an arrow from a bow. The soldier hurriedly raised his arms to block.

Within moments, several agonized screams, like those of a wounded dog, echoed. The tent flap was pulled open from inside, and a strong smell of blood wafted out. The man strode out calmly, and Si Li, waiting outside, handed him a silk handkerchief.

The man calmly wiped the blood from his fingertips. The ruby dagger in his other hand and the brocade fur-lined coat he wore were untouched by any bloodstains.

He turned to go back into the tent.

"Mu Chi..." the Zhou Elder stepped forward with a complex expression, pausing before changing his address, "Your Highness, Muxuan has been..."

"Teacher," the man interrupted gently, glancing sideways with a smile, "I'm afraid you're losing your edge. Let Si Li escort you back to rest properly."

With that, he lifted the tent flap and walked in alone. A wave of intense heat washed over him. Nearly ten blazing stoves illuminated the dark tent as brightly as daylight. Unfazed, he still wore his heavy brocade fur-lined coat, curling up on the couch beside the stoves. After a long while, his fingers began to tremble uncontrollably.

It was still so cold.

No matter what he did, the bone-chilling cold seemed impossible to dispel.

The pain in his heart also surged over him, and he curled up expressionlessly.

Once, he had longed so much for the sensation of pain, but now it tormented him, exhausting both body and mind.

In his daze, he remembered again—back at the Prajna Temple, in the cave on the way to Chu Prefecture, someone had taken off their outer robe, wearing only a thin inner garment, their bare, pale arms holding him tightly.

Qiao Wan...

His icy limbs finally felt a trace of warmth, and he twisted uncomfortably, his breathing growing slightly ragged.

Si Li had just escorted the Zhou Elder back to his tent and returned after the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea when he saw a soldier standing trembling at the entrance of the Young Master's tent, holding a stack of letters.

"What is it?" Si Li stepped forward and asked quietly.

The soldier looked as if he had seen a savior: "All the letters to and from Shang Commandery today are here. The courier is waiting outside the camp for His Highness to review them before they are sent out."

During military campaigns, correspondence through courier stations could easily be used by spies to leak information, so each letter had to be inspected.

Si Li took the letters, turned, and called out "Young Master." As expected, there was no response. After a few moments of silence, Si Li walked in.

A wave of heat hit him. Even in such winter, someone with Si Li's martial skills found it hard to endure the intense heat; his back was instantly drenched in sweat. Yet the Young Master on the couch remained wrapped in his thick brocade fur-lined coat, emanating coldness.

Si Li sighed inwardly and said softly: "Young Master, the letters from the courier station have arrived."

Mu Chi opened his eyes, looking at the empty space beside him on the bed, his dazed gaze gradually clearing.

"Young Master?" Si Li called out gently again.

Mu Chi sat up, taking the letters from Si Li and flipping through them casually. But for some reason, his fingers suddenly went weak, and several letters slipped to the ground. One fluttered lightly into the ashes of a nearby stove that still glowed with embers.

Si Li hurried forward to retrieve it, but a hand as pale as the moon reached out first, the fingertips brushing against the embers without any reaction.

Mu Chi frowned, puzzled as he looked at the envelope before him. On it, written in crude, unskilled handwriting, were six characters:

Jinyin Zhai, Qiao Wan.