Yan Zhi’an hadn’t slept in three days. After shooing Yuan Fusheng out, she dragged Xunqi back to the room, threw herself onto the bed, and set Xunqi to practicing calligraphy at her side.
How could Xunqi focus on calligraphy? She wanted to know how things had gone in the mountain. She sat on the footrest, squinting at her mother. “What happened in the mountain?”
“Shut up!” Yan Zhi’an rolled over, shifting deeper into the bed.
Emboldened, Xunqi climbed onto the mattress, perched her bottom on the edge, and asked, “Did you dig up any treasure?”
Yan Zhi’an covered her ears, too sleepy to even speak. At that moment, Xunqi threw back the blanket, kicked off her shoes, and lay down—right on the outer side of the bed.
“What did you do for those three days?” Xunqi pressed on relentlessly. Suddenly, a faint, delicate fragrance drifted to her nose—so pleasant. She leaned in, tucking herself against her mother’s shoulder, and sniffed. The scent grew stronger. She paused. Could it be natural body fragrance?
“Women are like water, born fragrant”—so it was actually true.
Xunqi rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, mumbling, “I heard the Imperial Court sent soldiers too. If they found it, does the mine belong to the Court or to the Yan family?”
The present dynasty had a rule: mountain mines were privately owned, but after three years of extraction, they reverted to the Imperial Court. Those first three years of mining were private; only after that did they belong to the Court.
Even three years was enough to fill the Yan family’s coffers to bursting—and Yan Zhi’an had mined more than one mountain.
Receiving no answer, Xunqi poked her mother’s nape. Once. Twice. Three times.
Annoyed past bearing, Yan Zhi’an had no choice but to respond: “Touch me again, and go kneel on your own.”
This time, Xunqi behaved. She stared helplessly at her mother’s nape for a long while, then, unable to resist, poked it once more. Letting out a small sigh, she obediently pulled her hand back. “I’ll sleep a bit too.”
As easily as she said it, Xunqi was asleep in less than half a cup of tea’s time.
Xunqi had only been napping, but Yan Zhi’an was catching up on real sleep. An hour later, Xunqi woke up, her eyelids sore. She sat in a daze for a while before getting up.
She didn’t disturb Yan Zhi’an. She quietly pulled on her clothes and slipped off the bed—outside, it was already dark.
She had barely left the room when Yuan Fusheng caught her. “The local officials are here for your mother. She’s asleep. Will you go see them?”
“Me?” Xunqi was baffled. She was just a child—how was she supposed to meet them?
Winter darkened early, but it wasn’t very late yet. Yuan Fusheng pulled Xunqi along as she walked, saying, “In your name, the Left Prime Minister has presented that mountain mine to the Imperial Court.”
Xunqi: “…” Just like that, the money was gone?
She grabbed Yuan Fusheng’s cuff. “Why give it away?”
Yuan Fusheng stopped mid-step. A chill rose from the soles of her feet and swept through her whole body in an instant.
Why had Yan Zhi’an given it away?
Naturally, to build Xunqi’s prestige. Xunqi needed fame; she needed connections. Those things had to be built up by people, bit by bit—they weren’t like money, which could simply be handed over.
Yuan Fusheng understood Yan Zhi’an’s reasoning better than anyone. Because Xunqi was too young. The Crown Prince’s faction was deeply entrenched. There was too much work to be done; the support of a single Yan family would never be enough.
“Headmaster, did I say something wrong?” Xunqi keenly noticed the change in the Headmaster’s expression. Where had her thinking gone wrong?
Yuan Fusheng released her hand, calmly smoothing out her robes. “She’s paving the road for you. Xunqi, you didn’t grow up in the Yan family. Coming home out of the blue, you carry no credibility. So the Left Prime Minister is paving the road for you.”
As long as Yan Zhi’an lived, Xunqi’s path would be a broad, smooth highway.
Xunqi suddenly understood—but it still stung. “Even so, an entire mine, gone in one gesture. That hurts a little.”
“And you don’t feel for the Left Prime Minister, who rushed about for three days?” Yuan Fusheng laughed in exasperation. The girl only thought to mourn a mountain mine!
“Of course I feel for her,” Xunqi said, surprised. “But right now, we’re talking about the mine.”
“I surrender to you. Go meet them and put some steel in your spine.” Finding the child a headache, Yuan Fusheng took two steps before adding, “She treats you like this. In the future, even if she truly wrongs you, you must forgive her.”
Xunqi was completely lost. Yuan Fusheng led her to the local officials, instructing her on what to watch for, and making clear that she represented the Left Prime Minister.
Not the Yan family—the Left Prime Minister.
Of the court’s Two Prime Ministers, the Left held highest honor. Thus, Yan Zhi’an was Head of the Officials.
Show your mettle. Show your confidence. Hold your chin up; do not cower. Even if you misspeak, they wouldn’t dare fault you.
All you have to do is receive them with your head held high and your chest out.
Xunqi nodded again and again. After a few steps, Yuan Fusheng said, “You go first.”
“You should go first.” How would Xunqi dare to walk ahead of the Headmaster? She knew well that rank had its order.
But Yuan Fusheng said, “To the Imperial Court, I’m nothing but a commoner. You’re different. You are the Left Prime Minister’s daughter.”
In that moment, something clicked in Xunqi’s mind. She was the Yan family’s Young Mistress, and the Left Prime Minister’s daughter. And for that reason, she represented “power.”
The local officials all arrived, bearing Congratulatory Gifts, eager to pay respects to the Left Prime Minister.
They waited a long while. Instead of the Left Prime Minister, they were greeted by a half-grown child, followed by a woman. The sharp-eyed among them recognized her at once—it was the Academy Head of the Yuan Family Academy.
“Headmaster Yuan? What are you doing here?” The crowd murmured in surprise.
Yuan Fusheng paid them no mind. She never dealt with those in officialdom; acquaintance went no further than a nod.
Entering, Xunqi swept her gaze across the room. A dozen or more people crowded it—a truly imposing lineup. These were figures of great local consequence; a single stomp of their feet could rock the region. Yet now they stood humbly before her.
Power, at this moment, walked slowly into her heart.
Yuan Fusheng didn’t play the host. She stood behind Xunqi. Xunqi smiled and apologized to the assembly. “Mother has been busy for days and is quite exhausted—she’s already turned in. Why don’t you all come back another day?”
“Another day” was a polite dismissal. They might well be gone by tomorrow.
At the word “Mother,” any frivolity in the crowd’s eyes instantly dissolved. They spoke to the girl with deference.
The girl answered them one by one, then noted that it was growing late and sent attendants to escort them out.
After that round of pleasantries, the crowd took their leave, reluctant.
Watching them depart, Xunqi turned to Yuan Fusheng. “I didn’t show any cowardice, did I?”
“No. You had all the confidence you needed. Dealing with people is nothing but a matter of breath. With conviction behind you, your words naturally carry weight. Let that breath leak out, and others will inevitably overpower you.” Yuan Fusheng’s tone was light. “You know why, when they greeted me just now, I couldn’t be bothered to respond? Do you know why?”
Xunqi shook her head.
Yuan Fusheng said, “I was never a person of the mundane world. I stepped into it only because of someone. I’m different from them—I have no attachments, no ambitions.”
Confused, Xunqi asked, “Who is that someone?”
“Time to go.” Yuan Fusheng didn’t answer. She turned and left the reception hall.
Before Xunqi could prise out the answer, the woman was already gone. Naturally, she hurried after her.
“Headmaster, why would you stop halfway through?”
“I merely wanted to tell you—when a person has no attachments and no ambitions, she has stepped beyond the mundane world, beyond the coercion of others.” Yuan Fusheng strolled on at a leisurely pace, her back as straight and sturdy as bamboo. She walked beneath the moon, bright and clean as moonlight itself, lighting the road before Xunqi’s eyes.
She left Xunqi with something to dwell on.
After Yan Zhi’an woke, Xunqi eagerly went to ask her. Yan Zhi’an only rolled her eyes. “Why are you as nosy as a village wife? Back to the Yan Mansion.”
Getting no answer and a scolding instead, Xunqi gloomily packed her things. Then she turned back to her mother. “Mama, you definitely know. You’re hiding it from me.”
That “Mama” made Yan Zhi’an lift her head in surprise—but the girl had already run off.
The form of address “Mama” unsettled Yan Zhi’an. “Mother” was too formal. “Mama” was the word people in Jinling actually used.
Yan Zhi’an felt a vague resistance, yet she was too drained to dwell on it. Wasn’t this exactly the result she had wanted?
