Chapter 34

Tao Chuyi refused to believe it. Even though the inkstone wouldn’t budge, she kept pushing. Instead of falling to the floor, it spun a full circle under her force, coming to rest in the opposite position.

Suddenly, a crack appeared in the wall directly facing the inkstone. The gap widened steadily until a hidden door came into view.

Tao Chuyi stared at the stone door in shock, then looked down at her hands in bewilderment. Had she torn the house apart? Would Fairy Sister scold her if she found out?

She backed away, but Fendie had already spotted the trick. The maid activated a mechanism on the stone wall, and the door slid open slowly, releasing a dazzling glow of jewels and flashing gold light.

Inside the secret chamber lay ten chests of gold, silver, and treasures, along with a ledger. Fendie picked up the booklet but couldn’t make sense of it.

“Young Master, it’s all records of expenses for buying toys,” she said.

Tao Chuyi blinked and took the ledger. It listed purchases like ear-shaped yuanbao for one string of cash, a standing crossbow for two taels, and a long curved bow for five taels.

There were many more entries after that. Tao Chuyi scratched the back of her head. Where were all these toys? She wanted some too.

The treasures and ledger were presented to Nangong Yunshang. Logically, anything kept with such riches should have been an accounts book, so why was it a record of toy purchases?

“It seems this Minister Qin pocketed quite a bit,” Tao Siqing said with a frown.

Nangong Yunshang stared at the ledger. Where had all these things come from? Minister Qin’s death might have been due to a falling out over shared spoils.

At that moment, Tao Chuyi’s head leaned in close, blocking half the booklet.

“Chuyi, be good. We’ll head back soon,” Nangong Yunshang soothed.

Her words worked like a charm. Tao Chuyi plopped down cross-legged nearby and muttered to herself.

“Ear-shaped yuanbao. I want some too.”

“What did you say?”

Nangong Yunshang was too busy to look up and had only asked absently.

Tao Chuyi leisurely picked up a brush, skipping paper altogether as she wrote directly on the table.

“Ears. Yuanbao.”

Nangong Yunshang suddenly seized her wrist and stared at the characters on the table. Combined, the two words formed “Ruan.”

(T.N.: Chuyi identifies the surname “Ruan” (阮) by using a clever pun involving Chinese characters. The character “Ruan” is structurally formed by the “ear” radical (阝) and the “yuan” component (元) from yuanbao (gold ingot).)

“Ruan Xiaowei?”

Tao Siqing leaned in at her words to study the ledger. “The standing crossbow is Xin—that’s the surname of Minister Qin’s little concubine’s uncle.”

“And the long curved bow must be Zhang.”

Nangong Yunshang pondered. “A court official named Zhang who has dealings with Minister Qin.”

They spoke in unison. “Vice Minister Zhang of the Ministry of Personnel!”

“What are you all talking about?”

Tao Chuyi caught on late. By the time she looked up again, the other two had already begun issuing orders.

Fendie coaxed her from the side. “Be good, Young Master. Her Highness the Princess is handling business. She’ll be back soon.”

Tao Siqing invoked imperial authority directly. The guards stormed into Zhang Mansion and indeed uncovered a nest of killer bees.

The Minister Qin murder case, which had dragged on for days, finally saw resolution. All the officials implicated in the ledger were rounded up. Vice Minister Zhang fell from power, dragging every corrupt official into the light. He had used the killer bees to silence his accomplice.

Ruan Xiaowei bore guilt as well. Though he hadn’t directly caused the death, his actions had aided it. He lost his post, his family’s wealth was squandered, and he ended up in prison—a triple blow.

As for the man surnamed Xin, he was the uncle of Minister Qin’s concubine, sold into that position by his own nephew. Far from avenging his niece, he had turned cold once Minister Qin died and no longer supported him. Nursing a grudge, he had staged the whole haunting farce.

With the New Year approaching and no desire for blood to stain the festivities, the Emperor ordered executions carried out early for those sentenced to death. The rest—exiles and prisoners—received swift judgments too.

A lucky snow heralding a bountiful year fell on New Year’s Eve, the first of the season. The palace hosted a brief banquet. Tao Chuyi followed Nangong Yunshang inside but barely ate, saving room for a second feast back home.

Songs and dances filled the hall, captivating the civil and military officials. But Tao Chuyi was distracted, whispering to Nangong Yunshang repeatedly.

“Your Highness the Princess, when do we go eat the water?”

“It’s not ‘eat the water.'”

Nangong Yunshang tapped her forehead. She meant the flowing cup banquet set up indoors.

With the rivers frozen solid this time of year, the only way to enjoy a flowing-cup feast was inside by the heated floor, with a makeshift stream.

Tao Chuyi nodded. Good thing she had saved half her stomach for that flowing cup thing.

“Imperial Sister, I said some harsh words last time. Let me make amends today.”

Nangong Yunshang knew it was the Second Princess without looking up. She only lifted her gaze as a courtesy—after all, she didn’t want trouble on a major holiday.

“You’re too kind, Second Imperial Sister.”

The Second Princess had already quietly pushed her own candidate for the Ministry of Personnel Director post. No one knew it would soon fall under her control, so Nangong Yunshang let them hop around a bit longer.

Tao Chuyi snatched her wine cup and emptied it right there.

“Your Highness the Princess doesn’t drink.”

The Second Princess’s face darkened instantly. She couldn’t make a scene at the banquet and could only glare in fury.

Tao Chuyi glared right back. “Meanie.”

“You—!”

Before the Second Princess could shout, Nangong Yunshang stuffed a sweet cake into Tao Chuyi’s mouth and smiled. “My apologies, Second Imperial Sister. Chuyi is spoiled and mischievous. This Princess will discipline her properly. Please don’t take offense.”

The Second Princess had made a fool of herself. She stormed off in a huff back to her seat. Soon after, the Second Prince and Third Prince came to offer toasts, but Nangong Yunshang turned them all away.

The Crown Prince chuckled suddenly. “Third Imperial Sister truly treasures this prince consort of yours, guarding him so fiercely.”

Nangong Yunshang smiled in return. “Don’t tease, Imperial Brother. The prince consort is honest but not the sharpest. Naturally, I have to watch over him more.”

The imperial siblings traded barbs back and forth. The Emperor sat high above amid his concubines, ignoring the younger generation entirely. He only exchanged a few words with Prince Ning, who kept glancing meaningfully toward those two.

The banquet finally ended. Tao Chuyi bounced excitedly alongside Nangong Yunshang back to the mansion. Yinghong had the flowing cup banquet all prepared and waiting.

The two sat around the flowing feast, served by Yinghong and Xichan. It was wonderfully leisurely. For this banquet, Tao Chuyi hadn’t even cared to watch the beautiful dancers, her mind fixed solely on eating.

“Delicious!”

Tao Chuyi clapped happily, grabbing a plate of chicken drumsticks and then one of squirrel gui fish.

While she devoured her food with gusto, Nangong Yunshang ate slowly and gracefully—even picking up a taro strip looked elegant.

Stuffed to the brim, Tao Chuyi leaned back against her chair, rubbing her belly. Suddenly, firecrackers crackled outside the window. After a brief rest, she was full of energy again and dashed out to watch the servants set them off.

In the garden, the servants clustered in groups of three or five, lighting fireworks and scampering away. Tao Chuyi arrived just in time to see bursts of fireworks blooming like fiery trees and silver flowers.

“Wow!”

Her eyes followed the sparks upward until they exploded into a riot of colors in the sky.

“Young Master, there are still dumplings.”

Xichan chased after her with a plate, holding one to her lips. “May Young Master have abundance every year and mornings like this forever.”

At the doorway, Nangong Yunshang didn’t step out. She leaned against the frame, gazing up at the brilliant night sky.

“This year, the mansion finally feels like it’s celebrating properly.”

Yinghong beamed beside her.

Nangong Yunshang’s eyes shifted from the fireworks to that figure. “Yes, much more lively.”

Perhaps sensing the gaze, Tao Chuyi ran back over and reached out. “Happy New Year! Gimme red envelope!”

Nangong Yunshang clapped her palm against Tao Chuyi’s. “You little money grubber, always after red envelopes.”

New Year’s Eve passed amid laughter and cheer. What Tao Chuyi didn’t know was that the festivities were far from over.

The next morning, Tao Chuyi woke and immediately went searching for Nangong Yunshang. After checking several rooms without luck, she grew distressed.

She hugged Fifteen tightly, looking utterly pitiful. “Sister left us behind. Fifteen, from now on, it’ll just be you and me wandering the rivers and lakes, busking for a living.”

“Woof?”

One person and one dog made a forlorn pair—though the trail of maids and servants behind rather spoiled the tragic effect.

Xichan could only laugh helplessly. What storybook had she read this time?

“Young Master, Her Highness the Princess will be back soon.”

Tao Chuyi remained lost in her self-spun tale of parting, stroking the dog’s fur and ignoring everyone.

“Tao Chuyi, come back here.”

The familiar voice brought sighs of relief all around. The savior had returned.

Tao Chuyi released Fifteen and dashed back to the bedroom. Spotting the grand figure of Her Highness the Princess seated in a chair, she instantly forgot all her earlier woe.

“Good morning, Sister! Where’d you go? I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

What a chatterbox.

Nangong Yunshang paused, then offered a gentle smile.

“Chuyi, your father is here.”

By the time Tao Chuyi turned, Tao Siqing had already entered the courtyard.

“Chuyi.”

“Dad!”

Father and daughter reunited warmly. Tears in their eyes, they clasped hands—then promptly huddled together cracking melon seeds.

Nangong Yunshang had grown used to the pair’s odd dynamic and paid it no mind.

Faced with a table of delicacies, Tao Chuyi gnawed on a rack of ribs as she asked, “Is today New Year’s too?”

Tao Siqing pulled out an embroidered box and opened it to reveal a gold locket. “You silly child, you forgot it’s your birthday today.”

The locket was engraved with “long life and health,” carrying an old father’s heartfelt wish.

Tao Chuyi had just clasped the locket on when Nangong Yunshang produced another box. Inside was a gold bracelet, also inscribed—with “peace, joy, and safety.”

It was Tao Siqing’s first time dining with them. He started out a bit stiff, but his daughter’s antics soon had him relaxing into his true self.

Nangong Yunshang didn’t mind the father-daughter duo’s noisiness and let them carry on.

At that moment, Xichan and Fendie came in, one carrying a birdcage and the other cradling a dog. Red silk ribbons adorned the necks of Little Eight and Fifteen, giving them a particularly festive air. With the two maids’ combined efforts, Little Eight and Fifteen performed a “birthday dance”—and for the first time, utter despair was visible on the faces of the bird and the dog.

Tao Chuyi had been overjoyed for two straight days and felt a little lightheaded because of it, even entertaining the idea of keeping the festivities going for a few more days.

“Sister, when are we going out to play?”

Nangong Yunshang stroked her head and said softly, “On Lantern Festival, we’ll go for a stroll on the streets.”

“Yay!”

After her cheer, Tao Chuyi promptly collapsed onto the couch.

Nangong Yunshang, however, felt no trace of sleepiness. She gazed at Tao Chuyi’s profile, wondering why she had so much patience for this little fool.

“Chuyi, would you like to dress up as a girl?”

Halfway into dreamland, Tao Chuyi nodded on reflex. “Yes.”

Nangong Yunshang let out a sigh and curved her lips into a smile. “Then on Lantern Festival, I’ll let you be a girl for a day.”