CHAPTER 002
Han Ranzhi's expression became serious as she mentioned the matter at hand, looking up at Lu Yun'er. "Yun'er, do you resent me?"
Lu Yun'er knew exactly what she meant. From being a first-rank official in the Ministry of Revenue, she had been demoted to an eighth-rank Scholar. Outsiders might think she had committed some crime to be demoted like this.
"No, I don’t resent you. I guess that your recommendation also carried the Empress’s intentions." Lu Yun'er smiled as if she had seen through everything. She continued, "First, to promote the worthy and capable; second, to combat corruption."
Lu Yun'er knew that the current Empress, Mu Yue, was once the ninth princess of the previous dynasty. Born in the cold palace, she was unloved and endured all sorts of abuse. She lived in hiding for years, and after the Chaos at Chaoyang Gate, she ascended to the throne by stepping over the bodies of her kin.
The struggle for the throne has always been about the survival of the fittest. Many historical emperors rose to power through betrayal and bloodshed. Mu Yue’s rise to power was no different. However, she had crucial support from one person—Prince Yun, Su Bai.
Su Bai was a noblewoman from the small but resource-rich Yun Nan Kingdom. The previous Empress, greedy and luxurious, had broken her promise of peace and invaded Yun Nan, causing unimaginable suffering for its people. Su Bai and Mu Yue, both harboring deep grudges against the previous dynasty, worked together to overthrow it.
After ascending the throne, Empress Mu Yue made sweeping reforms, focusing on improving the welfare of the people. She enacted policies that allowed free trade and permitted men to attend school. She was a benevolent ruler, diligent and compassionate.
This was why Lu Yun'er, since taking the post of Minister of Revenue, had been willing to work tirelessly, handling state affairs personally. However, the deeply rooted corruption from the previous dynasty could not be eradicated overnight, even if it could, capable people were needed to replace the corrupt officials.
The key issue now was the cultivation of talent, followed by addressing corruption in education. The Guozijian, as the highest academic institution and educational authority, was naturally the first to be reformed.
Han Ranzhi smiled slightly, sincerely praising, "Yun'er, you truly are smart!"
Her tone then grew heavy, gripping her teacup tightly as she spoke seriously, "You know, I come from a humble background. The path to academic success and officialdom was full of hardships. I know the bitterness of having grand ambitions but nowhere to realize them. Now that the Empress’s intentions align with my wishes, I know I am asking much, but… would you be willing…"
"Yes, I would be honored," Lu Yun'er replied without hesitation. She understood the importance of recognizing and nurturing talent, particularly for those who had struggled so much to reach their potential.
Hearing her response, Han Ranzhi smiled warmly, a genuine brightness gathering in her eyes. She raised her teacup, "Let’s toast with tea instead of wine."
At this moment, Liu Lan chuckled from the side, "Alright, alright! It seems in this gathering of three, I’m the extra one. But don’t worry, with me around, no one will dare lay a finger on you at the Guozijian."
Her tone grew lighter and more carefree as she finished, her seemingly casual demeanor hiding a sharpness in her eyes.
Lu Yun'er was surprised, "Sister Lan, you're going too?" She hadn’t heard anything about that.
Han Ranzhi explained, "When you were late, she decided on it herself. I’m not sure if the Ji Jiu will…"
Liu Lan suddenly laughed, her tone filled with confident arrogance, "With my reputation as General Liu, the Ji Jiu has to give me some face!"
She then smirked mischievously, "Besides, isn’t there a men’s courtyard at the Guozijian? I have to take a look. After all, spring is here, and all those flowers blooming with no one to admire them would be so sad!"
Lu Yun'er and Han Ranzhi exchanged a knowing smile but said nothing.
They suspected this was her true motive.
Meanwhile, the Yun Prince's residence was brightly lit, and everyone was on edge, busy with various tasks.
In the Qinghua Courtyard, Su Qingwan had regained consciousness and lay quietly on a soft couch. His phoenix eyes were dim, unfocused, and filled with a deep, serene calm.
Xiaoyuan looked at the unnervingly quiet young master, feeling even more guilty and remorseful.
When they found him, Su Qingwan was soaked to the bone, sitting pitifully on the cold ground with a woman's outer garment draped over him. He was clutching an unsigned folding fan in his hand, staring at it in a daze.
He hadn’t spoken since.
Outside the carved sandalwood screen, a woman in her forties, wearing a black robe embroidered with gold, stood silently. Though she didn’t speak, the oppressive air of authority around her was palpable.
Her eyes, dark and thick as ink, were filled with barely contained fury, making her seem even more formidable.
A female physician knelt cautiously on the ground, swallowing nervously before reporting, "Prince Yun, the young master’s body is unharmed, but he was frightened and caught a chill. A few doses of calming and cold medicine, along with some rest, should do the trick."
Prince Yun’s tightly furrowed brow gradually relaxed, and her lips moved slightly, "You may leave."
A guard then entered and reported, "Prince Yun, the people who harmed the young master have been captured and are now in the dungeon. However, the one who saved him has not been found."
Every word from beyond the screen reached Su Qingwan’s ears. A ripple seemed to stir in his otherwise vacant eyes.
Prince Yun’s face remained stern as she waved the guard away. She then moved around the screen, her cold gaze sweeping over Xiaoyuan, who immediately withdrew in fear, knowing that had it not been for the young master protecting him, he would have already lost his head.
Prince Yun’s harsh expression softened as she looked at her pale son. In the warm yellow candlelight, her face became gentler, her eyes showing both love and a hint of sorrow.
After a long silence, she spoke softly, her tone gentler, "Why didn’t you listen to me? Why do you keep sneaking out? If this time…"
"It’s just as well; I miss father," Su Qingwan replied, his voice devoid of emotion, like still water without a trace of life.
His light words struck a painful chord in Prince Yun’s heart. Her face paled further as she clenched her fists, seeming to suppress something. After a moment, she let go, her tone firm, "Once you’ve recovered, you’ll attend the men’s courtyard at the Guozijian."
Then she turned and left.
Su Qingwan’s nose tingled, and his eyes grew red, tears welling up.
He immediately turned inward, curling up like a discarded puppy, looking pitiful and fragile, making one want to hold and comfort him.
He then called Xiaoyuan back and gave a few instructions before the latter quietly extinguished the lamp and left, closing the door softly behind him.
The room grew silent, merging with the darkness.
As Su Qingwan lay alone, he became increasingly restless in his sleep, unable to wake, as if trapped in endless darkness, with only boundless emptiness and gloom wherever he turned.
Just as he was drowning in despair, he suddenly heard a familiar voice in his ear.
"Wanwan, Wanwan."
It was a voice he knew all too well, the voice he longed for day and night. This was the name his father had given him as a child—there was no mistake! It was his father calling him.
Su Qingwan's breathing quickened, his almond-shaped eyes turning slightly red at the corners from the intensity of his emotions. His entire being felt as though it was burning with a fiery passion, struggling to contain the intense feelings boiling within him.
He looked toward the direction of the voice, and the darkness before him was split open by a beam of light. Standing in that sacred light, his father, whom he missed so dearly, looked back at him with a gentle smile.
Su Qingwan finally broke down, tears flooding his eyes as he ran toward the light. The moment he stepped into it, the surroundings transformed into the familiar scenes of the days he spent with his father.
His father sat in the back garden, carefully sewing clothes for him, looking at him with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "My little Wanwan is such a mischief-maker, always running off somewhere. Come here, let Father see if these clothes are too big or too small."
Su Qingwan obediently walked over, but each step felt as though his feet were weighed down with lead, incredibly heavy.
"Oh? Why is my Wanwan crying? Who's been bullying you? Tell Father, and I'll make it right for you."
Su Qingwan, feeling wronged, muttered, "It was Mother. Mother bullied Wanwan."
"Alright, Father will go have a word with your mother!" His father gently patted his head and smiled as he turned to leave.
Suddenly realizing something, Su Qingwan urgently called out, "Father! Father, don't go!"
The words had barely left his lips before everything went dark.
In an instant, he was back at the lively performance of the Nine-Moon Circus, where he and Xiaoyuan had been separated by the bustling crowd. Alone and terrified, he had been cornered by three ruffians. Panicked and out of options, he ran for his life.
But the world around him grew darker and quieter, and the ruffians chased him relentlessly. In his frantic escape, he stumbled and fell into the icy waters of the Liu Su River.
The water was bone-chillingly cold, the kind of cold that pierced through to his very bones. Not knowing how to swim, he could only await death.
The world around him grew silent, and a suffocating pressure enveloped him, squeezing the life out of him. His senses slowly dulled as his entire being sank deeper into the abyss.
Su Qingwan could only remember that just before he closed his eyes, a vague figure, bathed in a holy light, had rushed toward him.
At that moment, he realized that there was someone else besides his father who would risk everything to come for him.
When he finally regained a bit of consciousness, he still couldn't see the face clearly. As the figure started to leave, Su Qingwan panicked, reaching out, desperately wanting to hold onto the person.
He cried out, "Who are you? Don't go! Tell me who you are! Please, don't leave!..."
Su Qingwan suddenly opened his eyes, his hand frozen in mid-air. Realizing it was just a dream, he slowly lowered his hand.
His face was full of loneliness, a look of despair flickering across his face as if his soul bore an irreparable wound.
Su Qingwan climbed out of bed barefoot, walking to the wardrobe in the soft moonlight. He placed his hand on a neatly folded outer robe, gently caressing the white magnolia flower embroidered on it.
His face, filled with deep satisfaction, blossomed into a radiant smile, the kind that spread slowly, reaching the tips of his eyebrows.
Then, Su Qingwan cradled the robe in his arms and returned to bed, holding it close like a treasure. The faint, soothing fragrance it carried lulled him back to sleep.
That night, the moon was bright, the wind calm, and the world was peaceful.
Su Qingwan slept soundly, a faint smile lingering on his lips.
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