Hearing him asking for Cheng Si-lang, First Madam Cheng shook her head.
“Why are you calling Si-lang? We’ve already asked – aside from meeting her a few times, he actually knows very little about Jiao-niang,” she said.
“I’m not calling him to ask questions,” First Master Cheng replied. “I want him to set out for the capital immediately.”
“Me? Go to the capital? Right now?”
Cheng Si-lang was startled. Of course he was supposed to go there this year for the imperial examination, but by his calculations, leaving in November would still be early enough.
First Master Cheng nodded.
“Your sister… that Jiaoniang, something may have happened to her,” he said.
Cheng Si-lang was instantly alarmed.
“What happened? What’s wrong with her?” he asked in a rush, cutting off his father mid-sentence.
Seeing the worry written all over his son’s face and the way he looked ready to rush out the next moment, First Master Cheng was filled with complicated emotions.
So this was why?
Was this why that girl treated Si–lang with such care and courtesy?
Though he had never personally witnessed how Cheng Jiao-niang behaved toward Cheng Si-lang, he could tell well enough just by observing Steward Cao. No matter when or where, no matter how bold or insolent he might be before others, the moment he saw Cheng Si-lang, Steward Cao would always dismount and bow – not a perfunctory bow, but one performed with precise formality, every motion exact. When speaking to Cheng Si-lang, he would keep his posture slightly bent in respect; when walking, he would step aside and invite Cheng Si-lang to go first, deliberately falling a few paces behind himself.
Such details could never come from mere politeness – they revealed genuine respect.
And for him to truly feel such respect, it could only mean that his mistress, Cheng Jiao-niang, herself held deep respect for Cheng Si-lang.
“I didn’t really do anything.”
Even though Cheng Si-lang kept saying that and never explained what exactly he had done, First Master Cheng had managed to find out.
When he was still at home, he had sent some money to the temple…
When she left Jiang-zhou for the capital, he went to see her off – and gave her money again…
After arriving in the capital, he even went to the Zhou residence in person – and once more gave money…
At this thought, First Master Cheng couldn’t help but laugh.
His foolish son – those little sums he sent weren’t even as much as a servant’s pocket money.
And yet, that young lady had accepted every bit of it solemnly, without the slightest hint of disdain.
A sincere heart is never despised.
First Master Cheng let out a long sigh.
“Si-lang, I just want you to go to the capital and ask if she’s in any kind of trouble -something we might be able to help with,” he said solemnly. “And tell her that your Second Uncle is being promoted and will soon be transferred to the capital.”
Cheng Si-lang was a little dazed.
“This… this is good news, isn’t it?” he said.
First Master Cheng looked at him.
“If it’s good news, then why are you stammering?” he asked.
Was I stammering? Cheng Si-lang stared blankly.
Uncle was going to the capital – then his sister wouldn’t be alone there anymore. Yes, Uncle hadn’t liked her before, but that was because she’d been ill. Now she was well again, and so capable… Uncle would surely like her now.
That… that was a good thing, wasn’t it?
…
Chen Shao stepped into Attendant Scholar Gao’s office with a dark expression.
“Master Chen – what a rare visitor,” Attendant Scholar Gao said, rising to greet him with a polite smile, his manner carrying the deference due to a superior.
“This roster – was it approved by you?” Chen Shao asked coldly, tossing a register onto the desk before him.
Attendant Scholar Gao’s expression remained unchanged. He glanced casually at the register, then nodded.
“Yes, it was approved by me. Did you find something amiss?” he asked with feigned surprise.
“The annual civil service assessments are already concluded. Why, then, are you transferring officials separately – and ones who have already been formally appointed?” Chen Shao demanded. And to think they had done it behind his back.
“Special circumstances call for special handling,” Attendant Scholar Gao replied with an easy air.
“What special circumstances? This man’s evaluation was below average! He’s been an official for ten years without a single notable achievement – how can he possibly be transferred to the Grand Court of Revision?” Chen Shao barked, his face stern.
Attendant Scholar Gao gave a faint smile.
“Because he is Lady Cheng’s father,” he said. “Lady Cheng helped her sworn brother forge horseshoes; she helped him present the Divine Arm Bow to His Majesty; she cleared her brother’s name and exposed the falsified military merits in the northwest; she rid the court of mediocrity and brought to the frontier fierce and valiant generals who drove the western bandits back a hundred miles, reclaiming fortresses and strongholds. Master Chen, may I ask – has she not rendered merit?”
By the time he finished, the smile had already vanished from Attendant Scholar Gao’s face.
Chen Shao stood expressionless.
“She has rendered merit,” he said. “But that has nothing to do with her father.”
Attendant Scholar Gao burst out laughing, a loud, mocking laugh. When the laughter stopped, he raised his brows and pointed straight at Chen Shao.
“Chen Shao, how dare you utter such disloyal, unfilial words – words denying your own father and kin!” he shouted. “Are you saying that His Majesty should not have bestowed titles upon your parents? Or that your parents were unworthy of sharing in the honors granted to you?”
Why do officials toil so diligently? Why do generals risk their lives in battle? It is all for achievement and recognition – for titles that ennoble their wives and children, for honors that bring glory to their fathers and respect to their mothers.
Not every official can fulfill that lifelong wish. Many spend their entire lives only to win a minor sinecure for their eldest son. But for someone like Chen Shao – at his rank – his parents receive promotions and honors year after year; even his grandfather and great-grandfather have been posthumously ennobled; and his little grandson, barely weaned and just learning to walk, already holds an official title and draws a stipend from the court.
That is why everyone strives for high office and great merit.
“I’m speaking of Lady Cheng, not of myself – no need to twist my words,” Chen Shao said slowly.
Attendant Scholar Gao straightened his robe, his expression smoothing back into composure within an instant, even with a trace of a smile in his eyes.
“Then, since Lady Cheng has rendered such service, and as a woman it would be inconvenient to reward her directly, what harm is there in granting her father promotion and title in her stead?” he asked in the same calm tone. “Or do you think Lady Cheng unworthy of the honor – or that her father is?”
Without waiting for Chen Shao to reply, he shook his head and continued.
“Even if her father is of modest talent, with such a daughter, he still deserves the reward. That is the natural order of filial piety and human bonds, the very essence of loyalty and virtue. What’s this then – do you find loyalty, filial duty, and the bonds of kinship improper?”
As he said this, Attendant Scholar Gao looked straight at Chen Shao, a faint smile curling at his lips.
“Or perhaps you believe Lady Cheng herself to be disloyal, unfilial, and indifferent to the moral path – to the point that she would not wish to bring honor to her father and mother?”
Gao Lingjun – ah, Gao Lingjun – how viciously calculating your heart is!
“Let His Majesty decide,” Chen Shao said flatly.
“But of course,” Attendant Scholar Gao replied with a smile. “I hold loyalty to the Emperor as the highest duty – how would I ever dare act against his will, or tread the path of disloyalty and unfilial conduct? You truly worry too much.”
Chen Shao looked at him steadily.
“Master Gao, your scheming runs deep indeed,” he said, enunciating each word.
Attendant Scholar Gao cupped his hands in return.
“I wouldn’t dare. To serve one’s sovereign faithfully while taking his pay – that is only my proper duty,” he replied, also word by word. “A man must never forget his duty.”
Watching Chen Shao leave, the people gathered outside the office finally crowded back in. One subordinate came in beaming.
“My lord, you should’ve seen Master Chen’s face – it went completely green!” he said with a grin.
“Nonsense,” Attendant Scholar Gao snorted, flicking his robe aside as he sat down. “A dignified Grand Councilor wouldn’t lose face over a few words of debate. It was all for the sake of state affairs – nothing personal.”
Though his words dismissed it, his face was full of mocking amusement.
“My lord, your move was truly brilliant,” the subordinate said flatteringly as he presented a cup of tea.
“Brilliant? Nonsense. I was just being kindhearted,” Attendant Scholar Gao drawled as he took the cup. “That young lady deserves the recognition. But Chen Shao – he’s so afraid people will whisper that he’s showing favoritism or using his office for private feelings that he won’t dare mention it himself. How can that be right? It chills people’s hearts. He’s afraid of losing face – but I’m not. So I’ll speak for him.”
The subordinate grinned and quickly chimed in.
“Yes, indeed – and there were even rumors that Lady Cheng was on bad terms with her father. What slander that is!” he said. “My lord, you’ve just cleared Lady Cheng’s name.”
“How could a father and child be at odds? That’s nonsense – pure slander,” Attendant Scholar Gao nodded in agreement. “Lady Cheng has rendered service to the realm, and she’s deeply loved by the people. His Majesty values her highly – how could she possibly be maligned as disloyal and unfilial?”
The subordinate smiled and nodded along.
Unless, of course, she truly was such a person.
To cloak oneself in popular sentiment, to preach the grand virtues of family and loyalty – did she think she alone in all under Heaven could do that?
Even if he couldn’t make the Emperor or the world see her true face as a defiant and unfilial daughter right away, at least he could disgust her once.
“Fatherly kindness, filial piety from the child,” he thought with a cold sneer. “Let’s see how filial you are to the man who nearly drowned you in a chamber pot.”
He was a petty man – every slight he had ever suffered, he would repay one by one. Whether it was the duke or that fool from Jiang-zhou, in his eyes there was no difference in rank or status – he treated them all the same.
Attendant Scholar Gao lifted his teacup and drained it in one gulp.
