Chapter 52

Nie Qinglin thought to herself, What an utterly undeserved disaster.

How did merely praising the Grand Tutor’s remarkable ability to run a household end with her being punished?

She lifted her eyes ever so slightly, just looking at Wei Lenghou with a touch of moisture in them.

Being looked at with such soft, melting eyes,no matter how stone-hearted one was—would be steamed into a puddle.

Wei Lenghou couldn’t help but want to kiss her rosy lips.

In the midst of his passionate kiss, Nie Qinglin half-opened her eyes slightly and could clearly see each delicate, curved eyelash of the man as he closed his eyes, along with the shadow they cast…

Thankfully, she thought, Imperial Father raised such an exceptionally handsome one.

If he had been a sycophant bloated with fat, greasy-faced, and still dared to offend the dragon countenance like this… Nie Qinglin couldn’t help but give a little shudder.

She realized that perhaps these days weren’t the worst yet, and so she found a reason to grit her teeth and endure.

The Grand Tutor didn’t have much time to soak in the land of tenderness.

Too many matters awaited his judgment,piles of official business, the kind that made one’s scalp tingle with frustration.

Sometimes, it truly left him at a loss.

But the moment he thought of ensuring that dragon pearl in Fengchu Palace would live out her days well-fed and worry-free, he found another reason to carry on fighting.

Snatching grain was a high move, but Great Wei personally deploying troops was the lowest of the low. After studying maps for half the night, the Grand Tutor tapped his fingers on the table and finally came up with a brilliant stratagem.

That very night, he penned a letter to Qiu Mingyan, who was then suppressing the rebel army, and another to Princess Qike.

Qiu Mingyan, riding the waves of victory, immediately caught the drift.

Following the Grand Tutor’s instruction, he forced the rebels fleeing south all the way to the foot of Hengling.

Undercover agents planted within the rebel forces proposed a plan just in time, Lingnan was in the middle of its spring harvest, with grain stores packed to the brim.

Thus, the starving rebels, eyes red with desperation, stormed the southern military granaries under the cover of night and looted the grain depots in one fell swoop.

That this group of roaming bandits could succeed so smoothly was all thanks to a sudden flare-up among a tribe that had clashed earlier with the King of Southern Frontier. Due to disputes over water irrigation, two border-adjacent villages broke out in strife, and the quarrel escalated to the point that several allied tribes raised armies to press toward the border.

The King of Southern Frontier knew well that this chaos had his younger sister’s meddling hand behind it.

Enraged to the bone, he killed his own sister on the spot and was forced to dispatch troops to quell the unrest.

Thus, the rear was left unguarded, allowing the rebels to loot grain almost without resistance.

But alas, just like the mantis stalks the cicada while the oriole watches behind, before the rebels could even get the stolen grain into their pots, they were ambushed at Hengling by Qiu Mingyan’s army, which had long been lying in wait.

The rebels were surrounded and captured in one fell swoop, and the grain was shipped off straight to the military camps of Great Wei.

The King of Southern Frontier flew into a rage when he learned of it, but since it was roaming bandits who had plundered the grain, he had to write a formal letter thanking Great Wei for sending troops to suppress the bandits harassing his lands.

Wei Lenghou accepted the thanks without batting an eye, but when it came to the matter of returning the grain, things got sticky.

Great Wei first agreed readily, then claimed that their granaries were too crude, and all the stored grain had gone moldy from the damp. Still, when the next good harvest came, they would surely return the full amount without skimming a grain off the top.

The King of Southern Frontier knew full well that Great Wei had laid the trap, but it was like a dumb man swallowing bitter herbs—he couldn’t voice the pain.

With no strength yet to tear his face off and fall out with Great Wei, he could only swallow the blood along with the broken teeth.

This move was pulled off without the gods or ghosts knowing a thing.

The court officials couldn’t help but secretly raise their thumbs in admiration—they were truly growing more and more impressed with Wei Lenghou.

With the grain crisis resolved, Wei Lenghou could finally let out a long breath.

He ordered the Ministry of Revenue to issue a land-clearing edict, starting with the counties neighboring the capital.

Households of Great Wei were allowed to clear forest land, three mu per household.

For those without seeds or crops, the local government would provide assistance.

This greatly reduced the number of drifters and opened up more wasteland—it was truly killing two birds with one stone.

Though the policy was excellent, it needed local officials to follow through diligently.

Assistant Minister Ge Qingyuan performed outstandingly, inspecting with great care to prevent rich landlords from falsely claiming titles and hoarding land.

Wei Lenghou praised him greatly and relied on him more and more.

In a blink, summer had arrived.

The weather turned hot.

Because she’d developed some fiery boils days prior, Nie Qinglin had lucked out—she was finally spared from drinking that daily bitter medicine.

The Grand Tutor noticed she had stopped her medicine and asked Physician Wei why her monthly period still hadn’t come.

The physician hesitated and said, “By right, the internal cold has already been dispelled. But it still hasn’t come… I suspect she once consumed something that disrupted the flow of her blood and qi.”

The Grand Tutor’s gaze turned icy.

“You mean she deliberately drank something to delay her menses?”

Physician Wei quickly lowered his head.

“That may not necessarily be the case. Judging by the pulse, it was quite a long time ago. Back then, the young princess was still a child. It might have been something someone else made her take. But… I cannot determine what exactly she consumed. I fear…”

“Fear what?”

“I fear… even if her monthly period returns, it will be difficult for her to conceive…”

Those words completely extinguished the Grand Tutor’s good mood.

Like a thundercloud, he stormed straight toward Fengchu Palace.

As soon as he passed through the palace gate, he saw his Guo’er cooling off under the tree.

Eunuch Ruan had ordered a thick crape myrtle to be planted in the courtyard of Fengchu Palace.

Crape myrtle blooms a hundred days red—stroke the trunk, the whole tree trembles.

This tree truly was a rare one.

Not only did it bloom bright and vividly, but a mere stroke of its bark would cause its branches to quiver lightly.

The red flowers swayed and swayed, utterly captivating.

And there was the Princess Yong’an, dressed in a summer skirt, lying slantwise on a woven rattan lounger with her leg crossed over the other, reading a book.

Next to the lounger, a small side table held a bowl of iced cherries, more than half already eaten.

Cherry pits were piled high on a small dish like a mountain.

Her white silk slippers, inlaid with South Sea pearls, were casually kicked to the side.

Her raised leg revealed a dainty white foot, each toe like carved jade, mischievously scratching at the tree bark, sending the whole tree of red blossoms trembling with a rustling sound.

Wei Lenghou quietly watched her.

Not until she looked up and saw him, tilting her head and rasping with a slightly hoarse voice, did she smile and say, “Grand Tutor, you’re here?”

The gloom in his chest lightened the moment he saw his Dragon Pearl.

He walked over and wiped the red juice off the corner of her lips, mildly scolding, “Look at you, cherry juice all over your mouth, lying around like that—where do you look like a proper young lady?”

Nie Qinglin only gave a bitter smile and said nothing.

The Grand Tutor suddenly remembered that Nanny Shan had said the princess had a boil on her backside that hadn’t burst yet and still hurt.

He immediately understood why this lazy girl was lying there with one leg up, her right buttock suspended.

So he simply flipped her over, ordered the servants out of the courtyard, and started to pull her pants down to check how big the boil had gotten.

In broad daylight, how could Nie Qinglin possibly agree? Of course she struggled, but how could she match the strength of the Grand Tutor’s arms? In just a few moves, her thin silk underwear was off, revealing a pitiful red bump on her snow-white skin.

The boil was rather fierce—her round little bottom looked like it might burst from the swelling red lump.

The Grand Tutor’s large hand gently stroked the exposed area.

Unable to hold back, he let out a laugh.

Nie Qinglin turned her head in frustration, only to see the Grand Tutor twitching like the crape myrtle tree being tickled.

But unlike his usual smirking without mirth, today he laughed freely, revealing neat white teeth, truly cheerful.

It was rare—without the usual shadowy scheming, his bright, handsome smile under the summer flowers was a perfect match.

When the laughter finally faded, the Grand Tutor ordered Nanny Shan to bring some cooling anti-inflammatory green lotus ointment to apply to the princess’s red bump.

He changed into a loose robe.

His well-defined muscles showed faintly under the sheer silk.

The mat under the tree was replaced with a large one, and Marquis Wei held the princess close, whispering together beneath the crape myrtle.

“Your Highness,” he asked in a soft voice as the Dragon Pearl began to drift off, “do you remember Consort Li ever making you drink anything special?”

Nie Qinglin murmured drowsily, “Hm? I was sickly when young… always drinking medicine…”

“Was there ever a time you took medicine even when you weren’t ill?” he asked again.

But the girl in his arms was silent for a while.

Only after some time did she speak slowly, “When I was twelve, Mother said my voice was too delicate… she gave me a bowl of something. My voice did get a bit huskier after that…”

Wei Lenghou’s brows knitted tightly.

Only now did he understand why his Guo’er’s voice always carried a hint of hoarseness—it wasn’t natural at all!

A murderous intent stirred in Wei Lenghou’s heart.

Nie Qinglin slowly raised her head and asked, “Why does the Grand Tutor suddenly ask? Did Physician Wei say something’s wrong with my body?”

Wei Lenghou gently stroked her back.

“The physician’s prescription might clash with something you once took… I’ll have the Imperial Medical Bureau send over your past medication records… It’s alright. Sleep now…”

Consort Li deserves death for the thoughts in her heart!

But as for this matter of possible infertility, he truly didn’t wish to mention it to Guo’er in his arms.

Bringing it up would only add needless worry.

Even if he had to scour the world for miracle medicines, he would make sure his beloved woman bore his child.

Besides, with a body as strong as his, how could it be possible for him not to make a woman conceive?

The Grand Tutor, ever upholding the belief that no task under Heaven could best Wei Lenghou, followed suit and took a short nap.

By the time he awoke, Eunuch Ruan was standing quietly outside the little garden.

When the Grand Tutor came out, the eunuch lowered his voice and said, “The Sixth Prince, locked away in the side courtyard, has fallen gravely ill. His mother, Consort Shu, begs the Grand Tutor to allow someone from the Imperial Medical Bureau to take a look. What does Your Excellency think…”

The Grand Tutor replied offhandedly, “The Sixth Prince… his mother was the daughter of that recently deceased great scholar, Shen Gongliang, wasn’t she?”

“Your Excellency remembers correctly. Ever since the start of winter, Shen Gongliang resigned and remained home. He fell ill and never recovered. Before spring even arrived, he passed away.”

“The Shen family’s decline is quite pitiful… but alas, they were far too stubborn.”

Eunuch Ruan understood immediately.

At such a juncture, there was no need to say more.

He knew the Grand Tutor intended to let the Sixth Prince waste away on his own.

Nie Qinglin, having just risen in the inner courtyard, had naturally overheard the Grand Tutor’s words.

That Sixth Brother of hers had inherited their maternal grandfather’s literary grace, he was refined in poetry and elegant in wordplay.

Among all the imperial princes, it was this seemingly aloof and prideful Sixth Brother who had always treated her the kindest.

She remembered back during the palace coup, when everything descended into chaos, her Sixth Brother had stood right beside her in the grand hall.

Though he was so terrified by that living King of Hell, Wei Lenghou, that he’d wet himself several times, when the guards came to drag her away, her frail Sixth Brother still tried to hold onto her sleeve…

Family affection in the imperial household was thin as mist, but not entirely nonexistent.

Now her Sixth Brother lay gravely ill… if there were any way she could help, she truly did want to do something for him.

The only question was how could she plead with the Grand Tutor without leaving any trace?

Nie Qinglin entered her inner room, eyes drifting to the decorative figurine on the shelf—a little child climbing a tree to pick apricots.

Slowly, a plan began to form in her heart.

Though the last Dharma Assembly had been a disappointment, she had at least made a few close acquaintances there—girls her age with whom she now shared handkerchief-bond friendships.

One of them was Miss Ge Yun’er, younger sister to Lord Ge of the Ministry of Justice.

At the end of that gathering, Ge Yun’er had invited the princess and a few other noble young ladies to a get-together at her residence.

The others had readily agreed, but Nie Qinglin hesitated.

She wasn’t sure whether the Grand Tutor would allow her to go.

She only smiled and said, “You all go ahead. If I can get permission to leave the palace that day, I’ll join you.”

Ge Yun’er didn’t quite understand the intricacies of palace rules and didn’t press her.

As the day of the gathering approached, Nie Qinglin waited until the Grand Tutor had finished his official duties and then slipped into the study to coax him into letting her go join the girls.

That day, the Grand Tutor had already heard the report from Nanny Shan, he knew that the princess had gotten along well with the other girls and that they had agreed to meet again.

Yet after returning, she hadn’t brought it up herself.

Quite a patient one, this little minx.

But now that the day had come, she couldn’t suppress her playful itch and came fluttering in to beg.

The Grand Tutor felt like giving her a hard time.

He kept a stern face and refused at first.

But this little scoundrel had come to know his temper far too well.

Seeing that his face wasn’t entirely stiff, she knew there was a crack in the door.

She circled behind his chair, reached out her small hands, and began gently kneading his shoulders.

“Grand Tutor works so tirelessly every day, and I only think of having fun—how terribly inappropriate of me. Let me make it up by giving you a shoulder massage all day today, how’s that?”

The Grand Tutor, seeing her fawning and brown-nosing like that, snorted and said, “Fine then. But my shoulders are just fine. It’s down below that’s been feeling neglected for some time. Let’s see if Your Highness can heal it with your magical touch. Don’t you dare slack off—massage it thoroughly, all day long.”

When the Grand Tutor turned lewd, he was unmatched under Heaven.

The Princess of Yong’an couldn’t withstand the barrage.

Face burning, she turned to flee but he pulled her back into his arms, hands roaming wherever they pleased.

Only after her hair was mussed and her hairpin askew did the Grand Tutor finally loosen up and give his permission for her to attend the gathering at the Ge residence.

When the princess’s carriage stopped in front of the Ge Residence, Ge Qingyuan was already waiting respectfully at the gates.

The tall young man, dressed in a dark blue casual robe, stood straight by the doorway.

“My father has taken ill and is unfit to come out and greet Your Highness. I ask for the Princess’s understanding.”

Princess Yong’an was helped down from the carriage by Nanny Shan and smiled as she waved off the formalities.

She was then led along the path toward the rear garden where the young ladies had already gathered.

Though Lord Ge’s estate naturally lacked the lavish grandeur of the palace, it carried the distinct elegance and scholarly charm of an old noble family.

As they walked toward the rear garden, Princess Yong’an glanced up inadvertently and noticed the calligraphy carved into the screen wall.

She stopped in her tracks, smiling as she took her time to appreciate it. “This must be the work of the great scholar, Lord Shen. The prose is naturally bold and full of spirit. Just listen to this part: ‘The elder is gone, and now his dragon-born grandson too wishes to fill the ditch and leave this world. My heart grieves deeply. If only the little boy who once plucked apricots with him had a good remedy…’ Truly, it’s marvelous…”

Nanny Shan stood behind the princess with an expressionless face.

This female general could not read a single word.

Listening to the princess’s mouthful of literary “zhi hu zhe ye” sounded like gibberish to her.

Even if she were asked to repeat the words to the Grand Tutor later, it would be utterly impossible.

But Ge Qingyuan understood the princess’s words clearly.

He looked down at her as she pointed all over the screen wall, then respectfully corrected her, “Your Highness has misrecognized it. This wall mimics the brushwork of a calligraphy master from the former dynasty, Lord Wang. But the passage Your Highness pointed out is indeed the finest of the entire piece. The apricot-plucking child will surely do all he can to ease his brother’s grief of wanting to ‘fill the ditch’ and follow their elder.”

After a round of literary discussion, Nie Qinglin turned to see Nanny Shan’s eyes wandering slightly, and immediately knew the woman had been thoroughly confounded by that scholarly back-and-forth.

Feeling reassured, she made her way toward the garden.

There, Ge Yun’er had already set the table, laid out brushes and ink, and prepared to host a poetry gathering with the young noble ladies who had come to visit.

Nie Qinglin’s handwriting wasn’t particularly upright or proper, and her verses leaned toward the playful.

She quoted a line about longing from a rather gaudy romance story, though not explicit, it struck a chord.

As it turned out, most of the girls present had sneakily read such stories before.

With few kindred spirits in their world, the moment sparked a round of laughter and giggles among the young ladies, making for a lively time.

Unfortunately, Nanny Shan on the side once again began to show signs of unease, her eyes drifting and her temples throbbing with an incoming headache.

While idly chatting with the young noble ladies, Nie Qinglin caught sight of Ge Qingyuan watching from a distant upper floor of a pavilion.

She smiled faintly, then withdrew her gaze.

This childhood companion of hers was indeed no small talent—rising in such a short time to a high post in the Ministry of Revenue despite being merely a scion of a noble family.

As for his original reason for drawing close to her, she wasn’t too sure.

But no matter the cause, it couldn’t escape the word “power.”

She had offered him a bit of guidance back then, half out of appreciation for his talent, half to leave herself a possible route for the future…

This Ge Qingyuan was known to handle affairs with integrity and caution, much like her father in his days as an official.

He had a proper and upright appearance and had yet to marry, making him a favorite among court elders with daughters to wed, each hoping to make him a son-in-law fit to ride the dragon.

Yet for some reason, the more time she spent observing Ge Qingyuan in court, the more she felt he bore a faint resemblance to someone else…

If her sixth brother weren’t clinging to life by a thread, she would never have wished to get too deeply entangled with former dynasty ministers.

Now caught in wind and rain, her footing uncertain, she could only hope this step she’d taken wasn’t the wrong one…