Ink Burns

Chapter 260 Receiving Guests (Part 1)

Give a peach in return for a plum.

Throwing oranges will get you fresh broth with greens, a rich meat broth, and a bowl of ginger chicken soup for each person.

I thought it was a lucky break that I had a good meal, but the food was pretty good for the next few days as well—at least I didn’t see any radishes again!
Shui Guang held the food box, her eyes brimming with tears: "The Disaster Relief Department is serving food!"

Everyone guessed that the Food Bureau had a change of heart. After inquiring, they learned that the emperor had suddenly looked at the food of the palace servants and imperial physicians. After reading it, he sighed, "If there is not enough food, how can we survive?" Immediately afterwards, the Food Bureau scrambled to replenish manpower and update the menu.

Everyone praised the "benevolent and virtuous sage," but Shui Guang secretly said to Xiao Qiuyin, "If you ask me, there are at least 1,800 people in the entire palace. If the emperor wants to clean up the food bureau, he should have solved our food problem long ago before he started. When the sage does great things, he doesn't consider the situation of us at all."

Shui Guang's idea was too audacious, and the little earthworm quickly covered her mouth, saying, "Spit! How dare you discuss the emperor!"

Emperor?

What emperor?
The son that God "poofed" out?
Weren't they born to our parents?
If it weren't for her sister's revenge plan, she wouldn't have come to this place where she gets scolded even for the slightest thing!

Before she entered the palace, Physician Cheng called her aside and asked her to take his pulse.

She pressed her hand on it, then looked up in alarm at Dr. Cheng, who was like a mentor and brother to her.

“Remember, this is the death pulse.” Cheng Xingyu’s voice was low. “This is the last time I’ll teach you this.”

She still remembers the expression on Dr. Cheng's face: calm, serene, and content.

It seems he left all his loyalty, passion, and love in the world, leaving only an empty shell for death.

"Don't cry."

Her tears were quickly stopped by Doctor Cheng: "Live well."

Ever since she discovered Cheng Xingyu's weakness and entered the Imperial Hospital, her ambitions underwent a qualitative change—being a Consort was a difficult position to escape. It sounded like a high-ranking official, but in reality, it was a dead-end job. She was confined to her own little plot of land, spending her days combing her hair from the moment she opened her eyes until the moment she closed them. She was practically inseparable from her hair. At most, she could take a stroll in the Imperial Garden.

She also had something to say about the Imperial Garden.

When she first arrived, she followed her master to the Imperial Garden with reverence.

I was greatly disappointed when I returned.

What Imperial Garden? It's just a small dam, not even half the size of Fushou Mountain. The birds don't dare to spread their wings and fly, for fear that if they fly too fast, they'll fly out of the palace and lose their noble status as royal birds, becoming just an ordinary alley parrot, cursing along with the old man.

If she had to beg for food in the palace, with a door in front and a wall behind, she would be miserable to death every day.

Later, I heard from Little Earthworm that the emperor was not particularly fond of women. When he was still a prince, he had a principal wife, but she passed away in less than two years. Now, the two consorts and one concubine around him were concubines from his time as a prince. The one who manages the inner court is Consort Liang, who was originally a female official by Empress Ji's side. Some of the ladies-in-waiting and concubines who followed him were just one-night stands, while others were chosen by Consort Liang and accepted by the emperor out of consideration for her. In total, there are about ten consorts and young ladies-in-waiting.

Shuiguang: ?
Wait, how did the phrases "a dozen or so women" and "not interested in women" come together?

Not to mention, during this purge of the harem, although most of the newly selected women from good families were released, three or four were directly promoted to the rank of "ten or so" concubines, thus changing the number from "eleven or twelve" to "fifteen or sixteen".

Shui Guang shook his head violently.

Count the birds, count the birds.

This profession is too difficult, the competition is fierce. It's better for her to stay in the Imperial Hospital. When her master, Doctor Lin, returns home in glory, she, as his last disciple and only disciple, can follow in his footsteps and become the head of the Imperial Hospital. Wouldn't that be just as satisfying?

She has never been a stubborn person; she is best at adapting to changing circumstances.

For example, right now, she wants to eat all the vegetables, meat broth, and chicken soup in one go!
******
The situation in the court changed drastically. Marquis Cui Bainian rushed to the northern frontier and fought three battles in a row. The Tatar offensive gradually weakened and they retreated from Yanyun Ridge in a sorry state. If this had happened in the old days, many officials would have submitted a memorial to propose that Cui Bainian be promoted and ennobled. However, now that the "Green Phoenix" officials in the capital had just escaped from the tiger's mouth, no one could stand out.

"I know you're annoyed with Cui Bainian. But think about it carefully. The officialdom in Jiangnan is in ruins, and it's hard for them to regain their former power anytime soon. The people in the capital are in low spirits right now because the emperor is investigating the 'Qianji Yin' incident. If you were willing to suggest promoting Marquis Wuding or Cui Yulang, it would surely boost morale and inspire people."

In the hanging flower pavilion of the Grand Princess Jing'an's residence, incense wafted through the air. A middle-aged man with an elegant demeanor lay reclining on a soft couch, with a pale-faced woman wearing a headband as her pillow on his lap.

Jing'an frowned deeply, her brows furrowing into three deep lines. She shook her head impatiently, "He Lang, I have a headache, let's not talk about this now."

Jing'an kept her eyes closed, so she couldn't see the impatience in He Qingshu's tightly pursed lips.

"I know I know."

He Qingshu lowered his head, his hands curled up, knuckles protruding, and gently massaged Jing'an's temples, continuing in a soft voice, "I know you're troubled. Especially at times like these, we must not fight amongst ourselves. You are the backbone of 'Qingfeng,' and Marquis Wuding is also a pillar of 'Qingfeng.' If you two start to have a falling out, wouldn't that be letting the fisherman benefit?"

"I've already been lenient! If he lets his temper dictate his actions, Cui Bainian will never survive past Shanhaiguan!" Jing'an suddenly opened his eyes, furious, and said, "Once we pass through this smoothly and Prince Rong ascends the throne, Cui Bainian will immediately get back to the capital! He can forget about touching the Northern Frontier Army!"

“You’ve always prioritized the bigger picture,” He Qingshu reassured him.

"He's colluding with the Tatars!" Jing'an slammed his hand on the soft couch, his anger rising, a surge of evil energy striking his throbbing head: "The first time, he secretly colluded with the Tatars to frame the Su family behind my back. He said we were weak and helpless, and we should walk no matter how dirty the road was, as long as we could walk it. I tolerated it! This time, it's clearly not time to fight yet, and he's colluding with the Tatars again!"

"No matter how much we fight for this land, no matter how chaotic it gets, it is still the land of my Great Wei! It is still the land of my Han people! Cui Bainian has repeatedly offended me. If it weren't for the turbulent times we are in now, given my nature, I would have abandoned him long ago!"

Jing'an shouted, "How dare you advise him to be promoted and given a higher rank?!"

Sick people often have a foul odor coming from their mouths.

Like the stench of an egg rotting in the soil.

He Qingshu turned his face away, held his breath, and gently stroked Jing'an's increasingly thin back.

The protruding spinal cord beads made his hands ache.

"Don't be angry—don't be angry." He Qingshu lowered her voice little by little: "It was my slip of the tongue. Your body is still weak. You shouldn't get angry. Have you eaten the virgin blood I mentioned last time?"

Jing An let out a long breath, the putrid smell almost rotting in his mouth. It took him a while to calm down before he nodded: "They've been eating it for three or four days. It's awful to drink, and even a three or four-year-old crying like that is terrifying. I might as well tell them to take it outside and kill it."

"Did you feel any better after taking it?"

Jing'an shook his head: "I didn't feel it was any use, my head still hurts." He sighed: "We're facing internal and external troubles right now, so let's try whatever we can. Maybe we'll stumble upon something that works."

He Qingshu had a gentle gaze, and his face was very well-maintained, with delicate skin and long, curled eyelashes. Compared to those young people, he had a more mature and composed demeanor.

If Tsururo were still alive, he would probably look like this.

Jing'an's eyes were filled with tenderness.

He Qingshu responded with gentleness, having already thought it through in her mind before speaking, to ensure everything was in order: "Indeed, we are beset by internal and external troubles. Xue Xiao's offensive this time was too fierce, catching us off guard—I remember last year 'Qingfeng' found him a marriage partner? What? That girl is useless?"

“It is useful, of course.” Jing’an sighed again: “That girl has helped with a lot of things, but these days, something is not quite right.”

He Qingshu lowered his eyes, his gaze shifting, concealing all his emotions.

"Thinking about it carefully, I really haven't investigated that girl's background in detail. I don't know if it's a coincidence or some other opportunity, but as soon as that girl arrived, Zhu died, Xue Chen died, Xue Changfeng became crippled, Chang Yusu disappeared, and the Chang family declined. A series of defeats, very tightly packed." Jing'an half-propped himself up: "I've already sent people to keep an eye on her, and the people I sent to Songjiang Prefecture to investigate her are on their way. Let's keep an eye on her."

He Qingshu stiffened, and with a deep voice, he groaned, "It's getting harder and harder to find and hire people these days."

Jing'an sighed again.

He Qingshu composed herself, looked up, reached out and gently pinched Jing'an's nose, scolding, "Don't sigh. A person's breath only lasts a few minutes; once it's gone, it's gone." As she spoke, she stretched out her palm and fanned herself, trying to make Jing'an exhale and then inhale it back.

Utmost truthfulness, utmost sincerity, utmost goodness.

Jing An's gaze softened slightly as he grasped He Qingshu's hand: "If I pull through this time, I'll make you a Grand Master of Ceremonies."

"Pah!" He Qingshu clicked his tongue. "What Grand Physician? What 'get through this'? You're fine, and so are we!"

"Yes, yes." Jing'an smiled, the lines around his mouth wrinkling like a crumpled lotus leaf: "We're all fine—" He said this, but his heart still felt empty.

Her health has deteriorated significantly, and she has recently suffered several outbursts of anger, which has damaged her heart meridian.

Dr. Liu felt that her condition was not good.

If she were to leave like this, she would still be separated from her most beloved daughter. She would truly die with regrets.

“You…” Jing’an coughed twice, a metallic taste of blood rising in his throat: “I wrote a letter in my drawer. I’ll go and give it to Yu Lang, and have Yu Lang pass it on to Lin Niang.”

"What letter?" He Qingshu asked, looking down.

"There's not much content. It's just a poem that Linniang wrote for me when I was little, which I copied again."

Jing'an's eyes reddened: "Linniang is stubborn, and I'm the only one who's willing to humble myself before her. Tell Yulang that I miss her, I miss her terribly, and ask her to come and see me."

He Qingshu accepted the letter.

The two comforted each other for a few more minutes. Jing'an was tired and wanted to sleep. He Qingshu hummed a few lines of a Zhenjiang dialect tune, then got up and pushed open the door to leave.

The Grand Princess's residence was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Wearing a pair of brown hemp shoes, the kind most favored by scholars from the Jiangnan water towns, He Qing quietly turned and entered the side room where he usually resided.

Candles were lit in the side room.

He Qingshu took out the letter that Jing'an had given him.

The letter was aimed at the burning candle flame, and the flame instantly engulfed the yellowed paper, quickly consuming it.

After the smoke cleared, He Qingshu's handsome features were revealed.

How could we possibly give Jing'an and Fu Mingjiang a chance to reconcile?

The farther Fu Mingjiang is from Jing'an, the closer she will be to Marquis Cui Bainian of Wuding.

*********
"Qingfeng" suffered repeated defeats, exhausting all its strength and yearning for a moment to catch its breath.

As dawn broke, three carriages slowly made their way towards Xue Nan's residence. The wheels rolled "rumble" on the flat blue brick ground and came to a stop next to the old locust tree at the entrance of Xue Nan's residence.

The former gatekeeper, Jifeng, was promoted and transferred to the side of the newly appointed military commander of Xishan Camp. The important position of gatekeeper was then passed on to his nephew, who had been by his side since childhood.

The new doorman yawned and poked his head out: "Who is it?"

The man who alighted from the carriage said arrogantly, "Your mistress's parents have arrived! Inform them immediately!"

The new doorman was just a tiny young man, at the age when sleepiness was the most important thing for him. He scoffed, "Are you our lady's parents?"

"It is indeed our master and mistress!" The steward, who alighted from the carriage, raised his head.

"Ha! Such a high-ranking person is coming, why didn't our madam tell me! Go away, go away—don't try to claim kinship! Xue Beifu is over there! This is Nanfu!"

They can't even knock properly!

Who doesn't know that the two masters of our Xue Nan Mansion are both cold-hearted and ruthless, cutting off all ties with their relatives?

The new gatekeeper refused to open the door, no matter how much he pleaded, until the sun had fully risen in the east, at which point Shan Yue finally heard that the Liu family had arrived.

Jing'an did mention that the Liu family was coming, which was both a warning and a way of monitoring them, subtly expressing her dissatisfaction with Shan Yue's recent actions.

"They came quickly." Shan Yue put down her pen, took the handkerchief to wipe her hands, and cleaned the ink off her hands. "I'm already overwhelmed with legal troubles and my affairs are a complete mess, like a rope with no end in sight. And then a few toads pop out to stir things up—it's disgusting."

Huang Zhi smiled and said, "The people from the Liu family are arguing with the gatekeeper! If you don't like it, just say you're not home and let it pass by day by day."

"Whether you like it or not, you have to see them." Shan Yue nodded: "Once they're settled, take them to the outer hall."

"At Lord Xue's place—" Huang Zhi's eyes darted around: "Should we send someone to inform him?"

Shan Yue paused.

She and Xue Xiao hadn't said anything definitive, nor had they done anything completely. Xue Xiao wouldn't budge if she took a step back, and she wasn't willing to take a step forward. The two of them remained in the same place, hoping that time would provide an answer, but she didn't know what Xue Xiao was hoping for.

"No need."

She can handle the Liu family's affairs herself.

Huang Zhi responded and left.

Zhou Liniang helped put the painting away, covering her mouth and laughing timidly: "These past few days, you've been really into fighting with the toad."

The large desk was covered with copies of model paintings.

All of them are Zhu Siming's new works of "Twelve Spring Scenes", featuring green bamboo shoots and jade toads.

He verbally insults people as toads, yet he draws people as toads with his pen; he's truly become entangled with toads.

"If you ask me, I suggest you don't copy Zhu Siming's style." Zhou Liniang, a skilled painter herself, pointed to the light and shadow boundary at the toad's eyes on the paper: "Zhu's style is a bit uncomfortable to look at."

But she couldn't pinpoint what was wrong, only saying, "Your mind is heavy; you should paint some bright and grand landscapes by Shen Congwen to clear your head."

Shan Yue dipped her wolf-hair brush into the water to wash it, and smiled: "Of the four masters, my favorite is Zhu Siming. He debuted the latest, but his talent is the most abundant. His movements in his paintings are clean yet precise—"

Shan Yue enjoyed discussing painting with Zhou Liniang.

Although Zhou Liniang is a crybaby who peeks at Jifeng and Luofeng wearing tight-fitting clothes, she is by no means inferior to me in the art of painting.

"Do you know what Zhu Siming's paintings depict most often?" Shan Yue asked with a smile.

Zhou Liniang covered her mouth: "Flowers—he loves to draw flowers the most."

"It smells of blood."

"He likes to paint flowers because only the color of flowers is naturally similar to that of blood."

Shan Yue's fingertip swept across a single red dot on a peony petal in the "Twelve Spring Scenes" painting: "Everyone says that Zhu Siming must have come from a well-to-do family, but I am certain that his background was not good. His paintings are full of resentment, obsession, anger, and murderous intent—he perfectly hid these emotions in the beautiful spring scenery. He hoped that people would discover them, but no one ever did. People only focused their attention on the beautiful flowers, which made him even angrier, which led to the creation of the third of the 'Twelve Spring Scenes,' an unremarkable jade toad and green bamboo shoots."

Zhu Siming seems to be another side of her.

She cannot paint independently because too many of her emotions would leak out through the tip of her brush.

But Zhu Siming was able to perfectly fill his paintings with emotion.

His paintings are fluid, vibrant, clear, unconventional, genius-inspired, and also mad.

She admired him.

Shan Yue raised her eyes and heard footsteps pattering down the outer corridor toward the flower hall.

Shan Yue composed herself, took a step forward, and went to meet the guest.