The Ming Dynasty: My sister, Empress Ma

Ma Wenyuan listened from the side, occasionally interjecting a word or two, and the atmosphere was quite harmonious.

"Brother Zhongheng," Ma Wenyuan interjected, "what did Mr. Song say in his letter about his recent transfer? Was his journey smooth?"

Song Sui sighed.

"My father is getting old, and Shen'er and I are a little worried about him traveling such a long distance."

"A letter arrived a few days ago, saying that he had arrived in Kaifeng and everything was settled, so his family didn't need to worry."

"He's stubborn and keeps saying things like 'If you eat the emperor's food, you should be loyal to the emperor.' Even at his age, he's still acting tough."

"Mr. Song is a great Confucian scholar of our time, and the court relies on him greatly. There's nothing we can do about it," Ma Wenyuan said, offering a word of comfort.

Song Lian is indeed quite old; he is now over sixty.

If he were one of the very elite at the top of the imperial court, Ma Wenyuan could understand; sixty is the age for adventure.

Even a scholar from the Hanlin Academy in the capital, Ma Wenyuan could understand.

But it's a bit unreasonable for Song Lian, who was only a seventh-rank county magistrate, to work so hard.

Song Sui nodded after hearing Ma Wenyuan's words and said nothing more.

I sat for a while longer.

Song Sui suddenly stood up and said,

"Your Highness, Duke Cao, please allow me to excuse myself for a moment. Shen'er, please keep His Highness company and Duke Cao company for a talk."

After speaking, he nodded slightly to Ma Wenyuan and left the flower hall.

Zhu Biao and Li Zhen exchanged a glance but said nothing.

The emperor and empress acted as matchmakers, while the crown prince and the duke accompanied them.

This display of force has already given the Song family ample face.

Song Sui's preparation to leave signifies that the real "business" is about to begin.

Sure enough, a short while later, the sound of light footsteps came from behind the screen.

Zhu Biao suddenly put down his teacup, stood up, and stretched.

"Oh dear, my back is stiff from sitting for so long. Uncle, shall we go for a walk in the backyard? Brother Zhongheng just mentioned that there's an old osmanthus tree in the house; let's go take a look."

Ma Wenyuan saw it clearly.

Zhu Biao gave him a wink, the meaning of which was crystal clear: We're leaving, you can have a good chat.

Li Zhen sat upright like a bell. Upon hearing this, she slowly stood up and smiled.

The smile held the unspoken message, "Don't mess it up."

"Okay," Li Zhen uttered a single word.

Song Sui understood and quickly got up to lead the way.

"The osmanthus flowers in the backyard are indeed in bloom. Your Highness, Duke Cao, this way please. This humble subject will lead the way."

He then turned to Song Yunlan and said gently, "Lan'er, you sit with the Imperial Uncle for a while, I'll be right back."

Song Yunlan nodded slightly: "Brother, don't worry."

As Zhu Biao passed by Ma Wenyuan, he lowered his voice and said, "Uncle, is one hour enough? If not, two hours will do."

"Go away, go away." Ma Wenyuan waved his hand helplessly.

Want to chat for two hours?

Even in my past life, meetings rarely lasted this long.

Zhu Biao smiled and followed Li Zhen and Song Sui out of the flower hall.

The footsteps gradually faded away, and the maidservant in the corridor tactfully retreated to the outside.

Only two people remained in the flower hall.

Ma Wenyuan picked up his teacup, took a sip, put it down, and leaned back in his chair, looking very relaxed.

He turned to look at Song Yunlan, and only now did he have time to observe her appearance.

She had an oval face, beautiful eyebrows and eyes, slender willow-leaf eyebrows, a straight nose, and naturally red lips. Her fair complexion complemented her jet-black hair, giving her a refined and elegant look.

She stood there, like a newly unfolded scroll of Song Dynasty calligraphy—written in light ink, its charm growing with each glance.

All I can say is that my older sister has great taste.

Ma Wenyuan withdrew his gaze, his smile unchanged, and casually started a conversation.

Do your brother and father look alike?

Song Yunlan was holding a teacup when she heard his question. She paused slightly, then smiled.

"Your question, Your Excellency, is quite unique. When others meet someone for the first time, they either compliment their appearance or inquire about their talent. But you, Your Excellency, are asking about my father's appearance."

"I can tell from your appearance and talent even if you don't tell me," Ma Wenyuan said matter-of-factly. "But I've never met your father, so I am indeed a little curious."

Song Yunlan tilted her head and thought for a moment before answering seriously, "My brother's eyebrows and eyes resemble my father's, but his face shape is like my mother's, a bit more square. My father is thin, and so is my brother. However, my father's beard and hair are completely white, while my brother's are still gray."

"And you? Whom did you take after?"

This question is a bit presumptuous.

The main problem was that Ma Wenyuan couldn't find any topics to talk about.

He only had one marriage in his past life.

I haven't had much experience with these things.

Song Yunlan wasn't annoyed; instead, she smiled, her eyes curving into two beautiful crescent moons.

"I take after my mother. My mother is from Suzhou and has fair skin."

Suzhou is a great place.

Ma Wenyuan nodded and, without any hesitation, poured himself another cup of tea. "I haven't been there yet. I'll definitely go and see it when I have time."

Song Yunlan lowered her eyelashes, her fingers gently tracing the rim of the teacup, her voice softening.

"If the emperor's brother-in-law wants to go, there will always be an opportunity."

This was said in a subtle way, but the meaning was very clear.

Once married, one naturally visits the wife's parents' home when the time comes.

Ma Wenyuan understood the implied meaning and didn't continue the conversation, instead changing the subject.

"Miss Song,"

Ma Wenyuan shifted to a more casual sitting posture, resting one hand on the armrest of the chair, and turned his head to look at her.

"Besides reading, what else do you do on a daily basis? You can't possibly spend all your time engrossed in classics like the Zuo Zhuan and the Records of the Grand Historian, can you?"

Song Yunlan's lips curved into a smile at his direct question. After thinking for a moment, she replied,

"Yunlan also plays the zither. Her father said that reading cultivates one's temperament, while playing the zither cultivates one's mind. When one is upset, playing a piece of music is more effective than any medicine."

"A zither?"

"What kind of zither? The Fuxi style? The Zhongni style?"

Song Yunlan was slightly taken aback, clearly not expecting that this imperial brother-in-law would actually know about the structure and form of the zither.

"It's an old zither in the style of Zhongni, with a clear and melodious tone. My father brought it from his hometown when he was young. Was the emperor's brother-in-law also knowledgeable in music?"

"No way, absolutely no way." Ma Wenyuan shook his head frankly.

"I'm tone-deaf and sing off-key. But I like listening to it. The sound of the qin is beautiful, clean and pure, unlike the lively sound of the zheng."

Song Yunlan didn't know what "singing off-key" meant, but she couldn't help but laugh.

"The zither isn't all lively; it also has melancholic tunes. But the Imperial Uncle is right; the qin is indeed quieter."

"What's Miss Song's favorite piece to play?" Ma Wenyuan asked with great interest.

"High Mountains." Song Yunlan replied without hesitation.

"My father said I played 'High Mountains' better than 'Flowing Water.' Perhaps it's because I'm not gentle enough and can't capture the gentleness of 'Flowing Water.'"

Looking at her serious expression, Ma Wenyuan suddenly found this girl quite interesting.

She knows what kind of person she is, without hiding it or trying to change it.

"High Mountains is good." Ma Wenyuan nodded.

"Mountains are hard and stable, unmoved by the wind. Miss Song's temperament is probably like a mountain."

Song Yunlan glanced at him.

She didn't respond to that question, but instead asked, "And what about the Emperor's brother-in-law? Besides making glass and teaching students, what else do you do in your spare time?"

Ma Wenyuan thought for a moment and counted on his fingers: "Reading books, doing accounting, and occasionally playing a game of chess with students."

"He always loses to Fang Xiaoru; that kid is too cunning. And then there's his tendency to daydream."

"Staring blankly?" Song Yunlan tilted her head.

"Yes, just spacing out. Sitting under the osmanthus tree in the backyard, not thinking about anything, just watching the clouds drift by in the sky."

Ma Wenyuan said this very frankly, without the slightest embarrassment.

"When I was in the army, an old soldier once told me, 'Your greatest skill isn't fighting, it's being able to stay idle.' I think he was right."