Although Zhen Tingyun had grown up in the countryside, she rarely even did needlework herself. Her hands had therefore been kept fair and delicate.
Now, as she lifted her hand and waved it before him, her fingers appeared slender, pale, and finely jointed, like tender bamboo shoots or white jade scallions. Even her fingernails had been neatly trimmed, pinkish-white like the finest freshwater pearls.
Yet as he looked at the fingers waving before his eyes, the smile on the man’s face slowly froze and faded. He merely frowned at Zhen Tingyun without answering her question.
Zhen Tingyun looked back at him with completely sincere concern on her face, while inwardly thinking: Dear heavens… don’t tell me he’s actually gone stupid?
Zhen Tingyun was ultimately too shallow in scheming. The man only had to glance at her once to guess what she was thinking. His brows furrowed as he coldly explained, “I simply can’t remember things. I’m not stupid.”
Zhen Tingyun paused for quite a while before gradually understanding what he meant by “simply can’t remember things, not stupid.” Tentatively, she asked, “Then… do you still remember your name?”
Now that she understood, she could somewhat comprehend his violent interrogation earlier on, of course, understanding was one thing, forgiving was another entirely.
The man shook his head.
Seeing the fleeting confusion flash across his face, Zhen Tingyun suddenly became a little excited and smilingly probed, “It’s not very convenient to keep calling you ‘you’ all the time. Why don’t we give you a temporary name first?”
The man did not seem to care either way and merely looked at Zhen Tingyun leisurely.
While thinking, Zhen Tingyun said, “Since my horse Malantou brought you back, how about you take its surname? You could be called Ma…”
“Wait.” The man interrupted her rambling, slightly frowning as he spoke. “I remembered.”
Zhen Tingyun looked at him suspiciously. How could someone say “I don’t remember anything” one moment and immediately claim to remember the next?
The man remained perfectly composed as he said, “Yuanhui. Hui as in ‘the morning mushroom does not know the beginning and end of the month*’.”
*famous metaphor used to illustrate that one’s knowledge and perception are naturally limited by their lifespan and experience
Zhen Tingyun looked at him with admiration. “You only just remembered your name, yet you still remember ‘the morning mushroom does not know the beginning and end of the month.’ Amazing!”
Yuanhui gave a slight nod but did not respond.
Zhen Tingyun shamelessly continued anyway without the slightest embarrassment: “Now that you at least know your name, why not go to the authorities and take a look? Maybe your family has already reported you missing and is searching for you. After all, since you can’t remember anything, it’d be better for you to return home sooner…”
Heaven knew how badly she wanted to hand this dangerous horse thief over to the authorities!
But Yuanhui merely raised his brows, his eyes bright as he looked at her, lips curving upward slightly. “That won’t do. I already agreed to teach Miss Zhen horsemanship. How could I disregard a life-saving debt and leave halfway through?”
Zhen Tingyun stubbornly made one final attempt at resistance: “I just remembered, in a few days, Grandmother and I are leaving for the capital. It wouldn’t be convenient for you to follow along, would it?”
“No matter.” Yuanhui smiled and answered casually, “I also wish to visit the capital. Along the way, I can teach you a few things.”
Zhen Tingyun deeply felt as though she had burdened herself with a massive load, and worse, one she had voluntarily taken onto her own back. The more she thought about it, the more hopeless her journey to the capital seemed.
Even so, Zhen Tingyun could not bring herself to abandon someone halfway after saving them. After sitting and chatting for a while, seeing that Yuanhui still looked tired and unwell, she told him to rest before going downstairs to speak with Steward Lin.
However, Steward Lin had also risen early and was nowhere to be found. Apparently, he had gone outside to gather information.
So Zhen Tingyun ate breakfast while waiting for Steward Lin to return.
Once Steward Lin came back, Zhen Tingyun invited him to sit beside her and asked when they might depart now that the rain had stopped.
Steward Lin had already gone out early that morning to inquire about the situation. Seeing Zhen Tingyun ask, his face immediately showed difficulty. “The Regent’s procession is still stopped up ahead. Since the Regent himself isn’t moving, people like us can’t move either.” As he spoke, he quietly shared some of the news he had heard. “Apparently something happened. I’m afraid they may be staying several more days…”
Since it concerned the Regent, Zhen Tingyun could hardly say much more.
Speaking of it, by this generation the imperial family of Great Xi had truly suffered poor fortune in descendants. The late emperor had only three brothers in total. One died early on, leaving only two remaining: Yan Wang and Su Wang. Yan Wang was obsessed with alchemy and the pursuit of immortality, spending his days discussing Dao with priests and refining pills in the capital. Su Wang, meanwhile, was the late emperor’s youngest brother. He had long ago received his title and, because his fief was bitterly cold and bordered the northern barbarians, had spent years guarding the frontier and rarely returned to the capital.
Unfortunately, the late emperor himself had been frail in health and had only one son, born to a palace maid but raised under the empress’s care. Before his death, looking at his young son, his youthful and beautiful empress, and the veteran ministers of the Grand Secretariat, the late emperor simply could not rest easy. He feared both the danger of “a young ruler and a powerful mother bringing calamity to the state,” and the possibility that the orphaned child-emperor would become a puppet manipulated by ministers. Therefore, before his death, in front of everyone, he appointed Su Wang, then far away on the frontier, as Regent, ordering him to return to court and assist in governing alongside the Grand Secretariat ministers.
As it happened, the late emperor had passed away at the start of the year. Even officials like Zhen Tingyun’s father had already entered the capital to report for duty. Yet this Regent had continuously delayed his departure, citing the need to guard against the northern barbarians and settle affairs in his territory. Only now had he finally begun returning to the capital. And after traveling only a short distance, the Regent’s procession had halted once again, leaving people like Zhen Tingyun trapped, unable to advance or retreat.
The more Zhen Tingyun thought about it, the more troubled she felt, so she changed the subject and asked about Yuanhui’s condition.
Since Zhen Tingyun had gone to bed early the previous night, matters such as summoning the physician and buying medicine had all been handled by Steward Lin. Naturally, he answered promptly when asked now. “The physician said the injuries on his body are only flesh wounds. A bit of medicine and rest will do. But the injury at the back of his head seems to have been caused by something striking him, and there’s no way to tell much at the moment. They can only apply medicine and bandage it first, then observe later. Oh, right, the physician also noticed he had a fever, so he prescribed some medicine for that too…”
Zhen Tingyun nodded to show she understood, then asked, “In his current condition, he probably shouldn’t be riding horses, right?”
The moment Steward Lin heard this question, he knew Zhen Tingyun still had not completely abandoned her idea of taking the horse thief as her horsemanship teacher. His teeth practically ached from frustration, though outwardly he merely replied, “The physician said that until the injury at the back of his head heals, it’s best for him to avoid strenuous activity.”
Zhen Tingyun: “…All right then.”
Steward Lin then discussed with Zhen Tingyun the possibility of staying at the inn another five or six days to observe the situation. If the Regent truly refused to move on, they would have no choice but to detour and see whether another route to the capital could be found.
Zhen Tingyun agreed to everything one by one. Seeing it was getting late, she said, “Grandmother is probably waking up soon. I should go check on her. As for everything else, I’ll have to trouble Uncle Lin to keep an eye on things.”
Steward Lin hurriedly acknowledged her words.
Only then did Zhen Tingyun rise and head back. When she returned to the room, Old Lady Zhen had indeed already awakened.
The two young servant girls the family had brought along, Bazhen and Liushun, were being run ragged by Old Lady Zhen’s constant orders.
Speaking of it, even within the clan the Zhen family could not be considered wealthy. Old Master Zhen had died early, leaving only Old Lady Zhen, a widow, to raise their only son. Life had been truly difficult. The family’s farmland was more than she could cultivate alone, so she had no choice but to rent it out while earning extra silver through sewing work at home. Unfortunately, Father Zhen had been exceptionally intelligent from childhood, clearly gifted for scholarship, and studying required money in countless places. Naturally, the Zhen family had lived very frugally.
Fortunately, Father Zhen had been lucky enough to encounter Elder Pei, who had been dismissed from office at the time. Elder Pei accepted him as a disciple, taught him personally, and in the end even married his beloved daughter to him. The depth of his kindness and generosity was truly profound.
Later, when Madam Pei married into the Zhen family, she brought along two maidservants as part of her dowry and even hired an older servant woman to manage the kitchen. Old Lady Zhen grumbled endlessly about this, feeling that her daughter-in-law was far too wasteful. Later still, when Madam Pei took her eldest daughter and went to the capital to seek out her husband, she brought the two dowry maids along with her, leaving behind only the kitchen woman.
Old Lady Zhen already believed herself strong and capable despite her age and thought she had no need for servants. Angry with Madam Pei besides, she simply dismissed the kitchen woman as well and lived at home with her granddaughter by themselves. After all, her son had already passed the imperial examinations and become a jinshi; the family owned farmland and lacked no silver.
By the time Zhen Tingyun reached five or six years old, Old Lady Zhen had been planning to teach her some household duties while finally resting and enjoying the blessings of children and grandchildren. But Zhen Tingyun refused outright. Though somewhat spoiled in temperament, she was clever and sharp-tongued. She coaxed Old Lady Zhen by saying, “Father’s already become an official, and you’re the mother of an official now too. Yet our family doesn’t even have a single maidservant, and we still have to cook our own meals. If others found out, who knows how they’d laugh at Father?”
She stubbornly wheedled silver out of Old Lady Zhen’s hands, first rehiring the old kitchen woman who had previously been dismissed, then purchasing two maidservants, one named Liushun and the other Bazhen.
Of course, Old Lady Zhen had refused to spend much money, which meant there was little room to be picky when selecting servants.
Liushun had only been ten when purchased. Rural girls were naturally tall and sturdy, and she had been especially broad-boned, rough-handed, and coarse-footed. Her face was tanned dark red from the sun, making her rather unappealing in appearance. The broker had also been stuck with her for a long time; seeing the girl growing bigger and eating more with age, she had sold her off cheaply.
Bazhen, on the other hand, had neat and pleasing features and looked lively and clever. But she was younger, only eight years old, and unable to handle heavy work.
Since the Zhen family bought two maids at once, it was practically a buy-one-get-one deal from the broker.
Though Liushun was not pretty, she was honest and hardworking. Tall and strong, she could chop wood, haul water, scrub, and wash with ease. Bazhen handled lighter tasks such as sweeping and wiping tables, helping out in the kitchen under the older woman’s guidance. By the time she turned ten, she was already capable of taking over the cook’s duties entirely, saving the family the expense of hiring someone.
Now that they were traveling to the capital, Zhen Tingyun felt she ought to have two reliable maids at her side, so she brought both Liushun and Bazhen along.
At this moment, Bazhen was carrying hot water over to help Old Lady Zhen wash her face, while Liushun brought breakfast upstairs and said with a smile, “Old Madam, Miss, you should eat breakfast first.”
Liushun had once been dark and sturdy-looking, but after these years in the Zhen household, she no longer had to labor in the fields under the sun and had become considerably fairer. Combined with her honest and dependable appearance, she actually looked rather pleasant now.
Zhen Tingyun had already eaten breakfast downstairs. Looking at the extra bowl of white porridge, her thoughts shifted, and she reached out to pick it up before heading outside. “I’ve already eaten. I’ll take this bowl next door instead.”
Ever since hearing that Yuanhui temporarily could not engage in strenuous activity or ride horses, Zhen Tingyun had begun reevaluating his worth.
Privately, she thought: Maybe I should cut my losses in time and just leave him at the inn?
Author’s Note:
Yuanhui: If I hadn’t remembered, I’d have had to take the horse’s surname! How could that be possible?!
Zhen Tingyun: As if “Yuanhui” is your real name anyway. Hah!
(Don’t be fooled by how glamorous some people look on the surface, behind the scenes, they almost ended up taking the surname Ma…)
