Cheng Jiao-niang and her maid ultimately did not go to Tai Ping Residence but instead got on the carriage and headed into the city.
The carriage was still the one rented from the bridgehead. They had set out early in the morning, and now, entering the city in the afternoon, they saw the streets crowded with bustling people, shoulder to shoulder.
“The Fifteenth Dharma Assembly at Puxiu Temple,” said the carriage driver. “Would you like to go and join the excitement?”
The maid lifted the curtain of the carriage and gave directions.
“Pass through the north gate of Puxiu Temple,” she said, then turned to look back at Cheng Jiao-niang. “Miss, do you want to take a look?”
Cheng Jiao-niang sat upright, her posture steady, and shook her head.
“There are really too many people, not as relaxing as on normal days. On market days, it’s mostly monks and nuns selling things to supplement their household income,” the maid said with a smile.
“You sure know a lot, miss,” the carriage driver replied with a chuckle as he led the horse through the bustling crowd. “These pampered concubines kept by the monks—they can’t rely on incense donations alone to sustain them.”
“They probably wouldn’t dare bring them out in the open anymore,” the maid said, laughing. “The authorities would catch them and sentence them to hard labor.”
Hearing the distinct accent that marked her as an outsider but noticing her familiarity with the capital, the carriage driver gave the maid a surprised glance.
“Miss, with money, you can make the devil do your bidding. Those wealthy monks who can afford wives surely aren’t short on cash,” he said, chuckling. “If I could read, chant scriptures, debate philosophy, and brew fine tea, I’d become a monk too! This work is far too hard.”
“Being able to chant scriptures, debate philosophy, and brew fine tea isn’t easy either, nor is it something that comes without effort,” Cheng Jiao-niang said calmly.
The carriage driver was startled and couldn’t help but turn to look back.
This young lady had barely spoken a word since getting in the carriage—he’d thought she might be mute. Turns out she could speak after all.
“You’re right, miss. Everything’s hard work. But it’s just a bowl of tea, and yet the Great Zen Monks of Puxiu Temple can sell it for two hundred coins per bowl,” the carriage driver said with a chuckle, though he couldn’t help mumbling under his breath.
“They’re not selling tea; they’re selling Zen,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
The driver chuckled awkwardly and stuck out his tongue. This young lady spoke so seriously that it left him unsure how to respond. Every word she said was understandable on its own, but together, they didn’t quite make sense. Each word seemed ordinary, yet when strung together, her words hit like a hammer striking iron.
The maid covered her mouth, smiling, and lifted the carriage curtain to show Cheng Jiao-niang the sights outside.
Passing through the north gate of Puxiu Temple and turning toward the back gate, they found the crowds still just as dense.
“I’ll buy a cricket for Jin Ge’er to play with,” the maid said. “He’s been feeling quite bored staying home alone.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded in agreement.
The maid hopped off the carriage and guided the carriage driver to stop by the roadside. As soon as they paused in front of a stall selling flowers, birds, fish, and insects, someone called out, “Miss!”
“Young Master Han,” the maid turned around and, seeing the young man in a plain blue robe, smiled joyfully.
Han Yuanchao smiled back at her, while a few of his companions curiously eyed the maid.
“Ah, young master, have you finished your exams? How did you do?” the maid asked eagerly, as though the thought had just occurred to her.
“I fear I might have to return and try again in three years,” Han Yuanchao said with a light laugh.
“The results won’t be posted until March—don’t speak too soon, young master,” the maid replied with a smile.
Both knew in their hearts how they’d performed, but Han Yuanchao simply smiled without answering and instead glanced around the surroundings.
“Are you here at Puxiu Temple to offer incense?” Han Yuanchao asked.
The maid shook her head.
“My mistress and I are just passing through,” she replied.
Mistress?
Han Yuanchao couldn’t help glancing to the side. There were many carriages parked in a chaotic row, most of them ordinary rented carriages, with no insignias indicating high-ranking officials or noble families.
“Young Master Han, are you here to offer incense?” the maid asked. “Isn’t it a bit late for that? Didn’t you all go to pay homage to Confucius before the exams?”
Although true gentlemen wouldn’t speak of invoking supernatural powers or spirits, scholars traveling to the capital for the imperial exams often—whether discreetly or openly—made offerings at the Confucian Temple to seek blessings.
The scholars in Han Yuanchao’s group chuckled.
“We did come to pray, hoping for a bit of good luck. If we manage to attend the lecture on the classics by Master Jiang-zhou before the exams, we might even stand a chance at passing,” one of his companions said. “This time, the chief examiner is Hanlin Academician Mao Xun, who happens to be a fellow disciple of Master Jiang-zhou.”
The maid looked at Han Yuanchao.
“Old… Master Jiang-zhou has started lecturing on the classics?” she asked, surprised.
“Yes, half a month before the exams,” one of his companions replied, shaking his head with a face full of regret. “Unfortunately, we couldn’t get in to listen.”
The maid let out a small “oh,” her expression thoughtful.
“Go on with your business,” Han Yuanchao said. “We’re off to pray.”
The maid quickly curtsied and watched as they walked away.
Han Yuanchao took a few steps, then paused, glancing back at the maid with an amused expression.
He had once thought she might have ulterior motives and had even prepared excuses to decline meeting her. Yet, as it turned out, she had never sought him out again. Instead, it was he who had taken the initiative to greet her.
“Young Master, is there something else?” the maid asked, smiling as she looked at him.
“Please convey my thanks to the Lady,” Han Yuanchao said with a slight nod. “That chef told me he has already found work—that must have been the Lady’s kindness, wasn’t it?”
The Lady?
The maid was momentarily stunned. Before she could respond, Han Yuanchao had already turned and walked away with his companions. He quickly disappeared into the crowd, heading toward the rear entrance of Puxiu Temple.
She stood there in a daze for a moment before breaking into a laugh.
“The Lady?” she murmured, shaking her head. Then, carrying two cricket cages, she walked toward the carriage. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks and let out an audible “Oh!” as realization dawned on her.
“Miss, Miss, I’ve figured it out!”
She climbed back into the carriage and spoke with excitement.
Cheng Jiao-niang was looking at the small cricket cages placed beside her, her gaze calm and still as a dry well, yet seemingly carrying a hint of curiosity.
“Figured out what?” she asked.
“Did you do all this for Young Master Han?” the maid asked, taking a deep breath. “To fulfill his sense of justice? To support his kind and chivalrous heart?”
To help someone in such a way that they would henceforth enjoy good fortune and live free of worry—what could better embody a person’s righteousness and compassion?
Yet, this thought was so simple it seemed plain, and so plain it felt impossible. How could someone think so far ahead, and why would anyone go to such lengths to help another without even letting them know?
Cheng Jiao-niang raised her head and glanced at the maid.
“If he wants to do something, then let him do it,” she said. “Why would he need someone else to fulfill it for him? What others fulfill belongs to them; what does it have to do with him?”
The maid was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter.
“Madam, just your first sentence is enough for me,” she said.
Whatever you want to do, then go and do it. Do as you please, as long as it makes you happy. I only need to assist, support, and help you, so your heart won’t feel empty or burdened. So that your kindness will be rewarded, your compassion will have meaning, and your benevolence will flow without end.
The maid thought this and felt her eyes heat up, her heart burning with emotion.
To experience such loyalty and meaning in life—what more could one ask for?
“Miss,” she called softly, unable to hold it in, as if countless words were surging in her chest. Yet when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. In the end, all she could manage was a murmured whisper.
When the Duke of Jin’an once again stepped into the Empress Dowager’s bedchamber, he had someone accompanying him this time.
“Brother,” said a boy of about six years old, dressed in a brocade robe, sniffing the air. “Do you smell that?”
The Duke of Jin’an looked at him, puzzled.
“Smell what?” he asked.
“It smells so good,” the boy said.
“Your Highness, you’re always thinking about food,” the Duke of Jin’an said with a grin.
The palace attendants outside the door had already come forward to greet them.
“Second Prince, Your Highness,” they said respectfully, bowing deeply.
The two entered the room, and upon seeing them, the Empress Dowager cheerfully called them over.
“Your Majesty, what delicious food are you eating? It smells amazing,” the Second Prince said with a hint of childish innocence as he sat down beside the Empress Dowager.
“You little glutton, all you think about is food,” the Empress Dowager said with a laugh. “If your father finds out, he’ll scold you for not being diligent.”
The Duke of Jin’an chuckled from the side.
“Your Majesty, if His Highness loves to eat, it just means he’s healthy and strong. His Majesty would be pleased, not upset,” he said with a smile, as if unintentionally sniffing the air himself. “It really does smell delicious. Your Majesty, what are you eating that smells so good?”
The Empress Dowager laughed.
“You two little gluttons,” she said, smiling as she gestured to a palace servant. “Go bring a few of the fried sparrows from the Chen household.”
The Duke of Jin’an raised an eyebrow.
“Chen household?” he asked.
“Chen Shao’s family,” the Empress Dowager replied with a smile.
“Oh, Your Majesty, speaking of Minister Chen, how is his father doing?” the Duke of Jin’an asked.
“He’s recovered. It’s truly remarkable,” the Empress Dowager said. “A miraculous doctor from Jiang-zhou was invited, and in just three or five days, he was cured.”
The palace attendants had already brought in two plates of fried sparrows and placed them in front of the Second Prince and the Duke of Jin’an.
“Really? I thought they said it was incurable?” the Duke of Jin’an asked.
The Second Prince wasn’t interested in the conversation and had already started eating the fried sparrows.
“There are always exceptional people in the world. I’m not criticizing them, but those imperial physicians have been in the capital for so long, they’ve grown stagnant,” the Empress Dowager said, shaking her head. “But in the common folk, there really are some remarkable doctors.”
“Your Majesty, this is delicious!” the Second Prince said after finishing two, his hands covered in oil. “I want more.”
The Empress Dowager quickly ordered a palace servant to wipe his hands.
“There’s more. Madam Chen has kept the cook here in the palace to teach the imperial chefs how to prepare this. So you can eat whenever you like,” she said with a smile.
“Oh, I saw her. Madam Chen brought the cook with her. It’s a lady chef,” the Duke of Jin’an said casually, picking up a fried sparrow and eating it slowly.
The Empress Dowager laughed.
“That’s not her, that’s Madam Chen’s daughter,” she said with a smile, then turned to a nearby palace servant. “What was her name again? She was dressed quite uniquely, and she looks quite well-behaved.”
“Her name is Su, the eighteenth child of the family,” the servant answered with a smile. “She’s fourteen this year.”
The Duke of Jin’an took the handkerchief offered by palace servant, lowering his head to slowly wipe his mouth.
Chen Su, Chen Shi’ba-niang?
After a moment of casual conversation, since Consort Xian was there to nurture her pregnancy, the Duke of Jin’an signaled the Second Prince to take his leave.
“Your mother is waiting to ask you about your studies,” he whispered.
The Second Prince’s face immediately scrunched up.
“Your Majesty,” he looked at the Empress Dowager and fidgeted.
“Good boy, go on. The Empress is looking out for you. Make sure to study well with your teacher,” the Empress Dowager said with a smile.
“The Second Prince might as well bring the fried sparrows with him,” the Duke of Jin’an said with a smile.
The Second Prince quickly nodded, and the Empress Dowager also smiled, instructing a palace servant to wrap the dish up. She then looked at the Duke of Jin’an, her expression showing both approval and affection.
“Go ahead. He’s still young, so keep an eye on him,” she said. “Once you and the First Prince leave the palace, he’ll be rather lonely.”
The Duke of Jin’an smiled.
“Your Majesty needn’t worry. Isn’t a little brother on the way?” he said with a grin.
The Empress Dowager’s face instantly brightened, her smile widening.
“Good, good! I’ll take that as a lucky omen,” she said with a laugh. “Go tell Consort Xian. The Duke of Jin’an says she’s about to have another little brother to play with.”
The palace attendants laughed as they left, and soon returned, carrying a tray filled with gold, silver, and jewels.
“Consort Xian has gifted these to the Duke of Jin’an for his enjoyment,” they said with smiles.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” the Duke of Jin’an said with a grin, accepting the gift and then looking at the Empress Dowager. “Your Majesty, Consort Xian has already given them.”
The Empress Dowager was momentarily stunned, then quickly covered her mouth with a laugh.
“You little schemer, still thinking about my private stash,” she said, laughing as she gestured to the palace attendants. “Go ahead, give him the reward.”
After sending the Second Prince to the Empress, the Duke of Jin’an finally turned back toward his own palace.
When he was young, he lived with the Empress Dowager. As he grew older and sought some distance, he moved to the farthest corner of the palace, in the west. It was close to the outer court and far from the inner palace, originally the study of Emperor Taizu. Later, a fire had destroyed it, and after repairs, it remained empty until it was given to the Duke of Jin’an to live in. The area was filled with trees, and with the passage of years, it grew even more secluded. In winter, it was tolerable, but in the summer, the thick green canopy provided a complete cover, making it feel even more lonely and isolated.
As the Duke of Jin’an entered, he saw two trays of rewards placed in front of the screen. He stood still for a moment, then suddenly stepped forward and overturned them with a swift motion.
“Your Highness,” a chamberlain quickly whispered, then hurried to close the door, carefully looking around.
The Duke of Jin’an turned around with a smile.
“There’s no one,” he said. “Look at how scared you are.”
“Duke, please don’t scare me. You must be careful and not be too careless,” the chamberlain said, patting his chest. His casual speech indicated a close relationship with the Duke.
The Duke of Jin’an lifted his robe and sat down cross-legged.
“I know. You may go now,” he said, reaching out to pick up the scattered jewels from the floor. Leaning slightly, he lifted each piece to his eyes, swaying gently as he smiled at the jewels.
The chamberlain responded and exited, closing the door behind him. The daylight gradually faded, leaving only a faint light coming through the lattice windows, casting mottled patterns on the young man sitting cross-legged on the floor of the hall.
