Jiang Yinyue woke from a sweet dream where her brother had stuffed a chicken leg into her mouth. She dazedly licked her lips and found them clean, without a trace of oil.
It was a dream.
She had dreamed of her brother again, whom she had not seen for so long.
Three years of war had brought peace to the borders of Da’an. From her brother’s letters home, Jiang Yinyue sensed his growth—his mindset had transformed from that of a spirited young general to a seasoned, battle-hardened commander. Only the soldiers guarding the frontier knew the hardships involved.
Now that Da’an enjoyed peaceful seas and clear rivers, her brother should soon be transferred back to the capital.
Jiang Yinyue looked forward to reuniting with him. As she imagined the changes in his appearance, a whiff of food aroma suddenly reached her. She turned her head and realized no one was by her pillow.
Wei Qin carried a tray to the table and arranged the dishes.
The woman, roused by the temptation of the chicken leg, followed the scent to the table but still remembered to ask the time. “What hour is it?”
“Around four-thirty in the morning.”
“It’s against propriety to eat first.”
“There’s no such rule at home. Wash up first.”
Jiang Yinyue half-believed him as she walked to the window and cracked it open to peek at the main room where her parents-in-law resided. The doors and windows were tightly shut; it seemed the old couple had not yet risen.
By rights, Wei Zhongchun was due for his dawn shift at Mao hour, and at this late into the Yin hour, there was no time for morning greetings anyway.
Jiang Yinyue relaxed and accepted Wei Qin’s service with a clear conscience.
Even clothes were handed to her on a platter.
Unaware, she sat before the dressing table that Wei Zhongchun had crafted himself and lifted her face, letting Wei Qin wipe it.
Wei Qin’s touch was gentle. As he wiped over her lips, he could not help but recall the two words those pink lips had uttered the night before.
Brother.
His hand paused slightly.
The cloth tickled a bit as it wiped, and Jiang Yinyue smiled shyly, reminding him to be gentler.
But Wei Qin did not stop until he had rubbed those pink cherry lips bright red.
A faint sting spread across her lips, and Jiang Yinyue instinctively pulled back, looking puzzled at the man before her. She vaguely sensed his subtle displeasure.
“What’s wrong?”
“What did the young lady dream of last night?”
“Did I talk in my sleep?”
“Yes.” Wei Qin’s gaze was faint, like a snow lotus frozen deep in his pupils.
Jiang Yinyue laughed instead, her smile blooming beautifully like flowers. “I dreamed of Brother. He had grown taller and more robust, his skin tanned dark from the sun, and his teeth gleamed especially white when he smiled.”
The bond between siblings was a lifelong tie. Mentioning her own brother, Jiang Yinyue did not hide her longing; she wanted to reunite with him as soon as possible.
The ice crystals in Wei Qin’s eyes quietly melted, and the snow lotus bloomed. He had never met her elder brother Jiang Taolue, but from others’ descriptions, that outstanding young general of his generation was both talented and handsome—quite different from Jiang Yinyue’s portrayal.
Jiang Yinyue thought nothing of it. After taking the cloth to wipe herself, she turned to face the bronze mirror, waiting for Wei Qin to style her hair.
Wei Qin’s skill was no less than Hong Mei’s. He quickly twisted her hair into a cloud bun and inserted a pomegranate hairpin at an angle.
The pomegranate was bright red, perfect to match a red skirt. Jiang Yinyue hesitated as she met Wei Qin’s eyes in the bronze mirror and asked uncertainly, “Does it look good?”
In the past three years, she had never worn a bright red gown.
A young woman with snowy skin in red naturally looked stunning. Wei Qin nodded, drawing a smile from the woman in the mirror.
Knowing his reticence was not stinginess with praise, Jiang Yinyue adjusted her exquisite bun and thought nothing of it.
After breakfast, Jiang Yinyue stood at the courtyard gate, watching Wei Qin and her father-in-law head off to their duties. By chance, she noticed several neighboring households in the nearby alley peeking out one after another, looking around curiously.
Jiang Yinyue found it amusing and deliberately lingered at the door a bit longer, letting them look their fill. Then she sat in the courtyard chatting idly with her mother-in-law, Lady Gu.
Setting aside the recent three years, Jiang Yinyue had often dealt with noble ladies and even titled madams from high families, but it was mostly superficial pleasantries. She had never conversed with a woman as unforthcoming as Lady Gu.
Not all humble families were fallen scholarly clans; any family with an eighth-rank official or higher in their genealogy counted as one, and the Wei family fell into this category. Old Master Wei had once served as a proper eighth-rank county magistrate. Now, the Wei family’s eldest son, Wei Bochun, held the post of Salt Tax Department Ambassador, also proper eighth-rank, while the second son, Wei Zhongchun, was slightly lower at ninth-rank Salt Field Deputy Envoy.
As for the Wei family’s two daughters-in-law, the eldest, Lady Zhang, came from a salt merchant family. Lady Gu had lost her parents young and lived under her uncle’s roof—he was a county lieutenant. Her uncle had arranged the match with Old Master Wei, and she married the Wei family’s second son.
Her experience depending on others’ charity had made Lady Gu habitually yielding and compliant in all things. But Jiang Yinyue noticed that whenever the woman spoke of her foster son, her words brimmed with joy, unconsciously revealing pride.
“Ah Qin takes after me—quiet and reticent, a bit dull. You’ll have to bear with him.”
Jiang Yinyue did not take this as polite flattery but as the self-deprecation born of her dependent years.
Elevating others while belittling herself.
“Steady and few words is good. In court, where schemes abound, the more one speaks, the more likely to err.”
Lady Gu looked up in surprise at her daughter-in-law sitting in the morning sun. Unlike the lofty noble lady she had imagined, the woman before her was dainty and lively like a blooming peach flower, vibrant and unpretentious, without the aloof pride of one perched on high.
Her son had written home saying he had been chosen as son-in-law by a second-rank minister. She and her husband had been both astonished and anxious. Even though her in-laws had repeatedly invited them to meet, the couple had not dared accept—not only because the journey was long and her husband’s ten-day leave insufficient for round trip, but also from self-consciousness, fearing disdain from a high family. Better not to meet at all.
The couple figured they could not help their son in his career, so they would not hold him back. In some eyes, being a live-in son-in-law was no honor, and occasionally people half-jokingly teased Wei Zhongchun about it—sour grapes.
The couple usually just smiled it off. Others could say what they liked; they just did their best.
Lady Gu smiled, without mentioning the skipped morning greetings that morning. She had discussed it at length with her father-in-law and husband before deciding. At first, they worried the noble lady would mock their petty customs as an ugly woman trying to imitate a beauty. Now it seemed they had overthought it.
Old Madam Wei had passed early, and Old Master Wei disliked elaborate rituals, so they had dispensed with the daily morning and evening greetings for the children and grandchildren.
Jiang Yinyue chatted a bit more with Lady Gu when suddenly a horse’s neigh came from the back alley.
Her heart stirred. She hurried to the back yard following the sound and, upon opening the door, saw a shaggy head poking in.
It was that scruffy horse, Lightning Chaser.
The back alley was quiet and deserted; no one delivering the horse was in sight. Jiang Yinyue quietly stroked Lightning Chaser’s neck, lost in thought.
A note was tucked into Lightning Chaser’s saddle. Jiang Yinyue unfolded it and glanced over. Though she did not recognize Han Jian’s handwriting, that tone was inimitable.
“Crown Prince Your Highness will soon arrive in Yangzhou to reward the salt merchants. Please act with propriety, Lady Jiang.”
What was this?
She was already eager to avoid him.
Jiang Yinyue laughed in exasperation, unsure in what capacity Han Jian was warning her. Yan Zhuyu’s confidant? Close friend?
Meanwhile, in the public office, Salt Transport Envoy Yan Hongchang was receiving Wei Qin, the Salt Transport Judge directly appointed by the Ministry of Personnel.
With an Eastern Palace Liangdi in his family, Yan Hongchang had long secured his proper third-rank position as Salt Transport Envoy.
As old neighbors of sorts, Yan Hongchang’s short mustache flared to both sides. “Come, have a seat.”
He gently blew on his covered tea bowl without signaling a subordinate to serve Wei Qin tea. “Given our families’ ties, Nephew, you should have come to the Yan Mansion first last night to catch up.”
Once Wei Qin was seated, he carefully studied the young man before him. The boy he remembered—carrying his luggage alone to the capital for the exams—had still been taciturn and joyless, though his complexion was more radiant than before.
Must be the minister’s household feasts nourishing him.
Times had changed.
Second place in the top three ranks of the imperial exams was dazzling enough, and with a minister’s daughter as wife, the youth was no longer an obscure scholar from a humble family.
The Salt Transport Judge oversaw regional salt affairs, regulating transport, taxation, and storage, linking the court to the localities and strengthening central control over local salt matters.
This was no post anyone could handle. Not quite an imperial envoy, but nearly as weighty.
While Yan Hongchang had his deputy take Wei Qin to meet the Salt Transport Office officials, a trusted aide was summoned. “Wei Qin is the court-appointed Transport Judge—give him extra care. Besides the salt fields, watch the nest merchants, transport merchants, venue merchants, and chief merchants. No mishaps anywhere. Remind them: the more one speaks, the more likely to err.”
The aide nodded. In the afternoon, as he passed Wei Qin, his expression was somewhat odd.
Wei Qin recalled the words of Minister of Revenue Tao Qian: The Yangzhou Salt Transport Office was deeply entrenched; you are out in the open, and launching an investigation would surely face pushback from certain powers.
Out in the open…
Had the court sent others to investigate in secret?
When Wei Qin left the yamen, a peach blossom petal clung to his shoulder. The Qingming Festival approached; winter had unknowingly passed.
Yangzhou’s spring came earlier than the capital’s. Busy with travel, early spring had flown by in a blink, and he had overlooked the roadside scenery.
Spring night in Yangzhou City: willows bent gracefully, talented scholars poured out bold passions, but true affections were hard to discern.
The night market glowed with a thousand lanterns, candlelight filtering through curtains—who leaned on the railing in sorrow?
Pavilions and stages, slow pipes and songs, fluttering red sleeves in dance—a truly enchanting night scene, full of lingering romance.
As the moon waned, Wei Qin passed an entire long street fragrant with rouge. He saw a storyteller at a teahouse window, regaling the crowd with palace scandals.
Two young masters approached together, only to be stopped by the smiling waiter.
“Sorry, fully booked today.”
“We came especially for the fame.”
“Can’t be helped—too popular. Come back next time to support us.”
Disappointed, they left. Wei Qin did not linger either, stepping into an ordinary alley, his feet treading slanting tree shadows.
Suddenly, a horse and rider galloped from the other end of the alley. The hoofbeats alone marked it as a steed of a thousand leagues.
A girl in tight riding gear straddled it, leaning forward to hold the reins, nimble as a swallow in the rain.
As she brushed past Wei Qin, she cast a sharp sidelong glance, her eyes keen and seasoned. She quickly withdrew her gaze and spurred the horse on.
“Giddyup!”
Around fifteen or sixteen years old, her voice deliberately lowered to a raspy croak like an old man’s.