Chapter 108

After Empress Lu asked her question, she carefully observed his expression.

Lu Wensheng slowly and calmly set down his tea cup. The wide sleeve with cloud pattern embroidery covered the back of his hand, revealing slender, elegant knuckles. His left thumb adorned with a white jade ring, about an inch wide, looked particularly exquisite. “Just repaying a favor.”

Lu Wensheng’s voice was clear, noble, and scholarly, exuding an innate dignity beyond commonness. But this gentlemanly demeanor made Empress Lu rather annoyed. Her younger brother had always been unreadable. She probed further, saying, “I heard from Xiaoqi that the shop is run by a young lady from the capital. If you are interested in her, why not…”

The Empress didn’t finish her sentence. She had inquired about the young woman—a daughter of a fourth-rank official, blessed with good looks and a gentle temperament. Though her family background was modest, if Wensheng liked her, taking her as a proper concubine would also suffice.

Lu Wensheng lowered his gaze, softly acknowledging, and after a pause, added, “No need, I wouldn’t want to delay her.”

Empress Lu had never imagined that her elegant and refined younger brother, who was so composed and graceful, would one day utter such self-deprecating words. Her heart ached, and just as she was about to say something, Lu Wensheng continued: “King Jing has grown ambitious, and Duke Fu’s household, being the maternal family of His Highness, draws attention both within and outside the court. In such unpredictable circumstances, it’s best if I remain unmarried. This way, I won’t burden anyone or make them live in constant fear.”

Hearing this, Empress Lu’s face involuntarily stiffened. “Are you blaming Xun’er?”

Lu Wensheng lowered his gaze, making no response. He often behaved this way—excessively quiet, as though worldly troubles had nothing to do with him. Yet his words, once spoken, pierced straight to the heart.

The Empress took a deep breath. Xun’er harbored great ambitions, and as his mother, she could only support her son. How could she just stand by and watch Xun’er one day kneel and bow to that taciturn and unsociable Xiao Heng?

For her and her son, their greatest reliance was on Duke Fu’s household and Lu Wensheng, her younger brother.

“It’s all my fault. If he hadn’t been born into the womb of me, the Empress, such ambitions wouldn’t have taken root. Xun’er holds the utmost respect for you. Just yesterday, the Emperor gifted him a fine inkstone, and knowing you’d like it, he kept it aside for you.”

Everyone has their allegiances. Take Xiaoqi, a five-year-old child, for example. Even he has preferences and distances, often reprimanding the Zhu family boy he disapproves of. King Jing, Xiao Xun, is deeply tied by blood to Duke Fu’s household, with their honor and survival interwoven.

Lu Wensheng’s refined face remained serene and unruffled, though occasionally, when he tilted his head, a trace of compassion flashed in his eyes. “One must always prioritize the welfare of the family.”

“King Jing acts decisively but often leans toward impulsiveness, leaving loose ends. There is a young man in the Censorate named Pei Jian, who is skilled and meticulous in his work. Recently, he has accomplished several significant tasks quietly. It would be good for His Highness to pay more attention to him.”

He has always handled matters with utmost caution.

Empress Lu kept his words in her heart. Feeling pity for her brother’s solitude, she brought up an old topic again, “That Miss Wen…”

Lu Wensheng had already risen to his feet, the hem of his robe swaying under the palace light, casting dark silk-like ripples. “She has her own peaceful place to go.”

Empress Lu then realized that her brother did have some feelings for Miss Wen. However, with the Crown Prince already established and the political situation tense, as Lu Wensheng said, the future would only become more difficult. For Xun’er to succeed and move further ahead, he would need as much support as possible. Her late sister-in-law, after all, was the daughter of the commander of the Imperial Guards, whose father controlled the security of the palace. Her brother’s marriage had never been as simple as mutual affection.

Thinking of this, Empress Lu couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness and reluctance. This was the first time Lu Wensheng had shown any longing for a young lady. But soon, this reluctance was replaced by resolve. Sitting in their positions of power, where the heights bring cold and loneliness, certain things are inevitably sacrificed.

…

Pei Jian recently drew inspiration from Zhou Yanli.

Didn’t Zhou Yanli enjoy hovering around the Li family?

So Pei Jian, with every excuse, would visit Father Wen to discuss calligraphy, painting, poetry, and songs, all under the pretense of seeking scholarly advice.

Father Wen had always been passionate about these topics. Although Pei Jian was not an expert, he was well-read and skilled in flattering Father Wen subtly, leaving him feeling invigorated and proud.

After a few visits, Father Wen became somewhat overconfident. He even specifically called Wen Qingheng over to show him his latest poetry and paintings, asking, “Have I greatly improved?”

But a son would always seem better when he belonged to another family. Wen Qingheng only briefly glanced at the works and said, “I can’t see it.”

Pei Jian’s intentions were so clear that even Wen Qingheng could hear them from his courtyard. Was Pei Jian sincerely discussing academic topics with his father?

Of course not—his real intentions lay elsewhere.

However, Wen Qingheng’s indifference deeply hurt Father Wen, a man of letters and the arts. Glaring at his son, Father Wen harshly said: “If Shizhang and I, one a third-place scholar and the other the top scorer, can achieve such feats, yet you can’t even make it into the first section of the second list.”

Wen Qingheng: …

That damned Pei Jian.

It must be said that compared to Nianxi, Father Wen was far easier to please. Within a few days, Wen Yuanqiao had already considered Pei Jian a friend despite their age difference. Not only that, but he even proactively invited Pei Jian to join their literary gatherings and social events.

Pei Jian, however, had no intention of attending. His purpose in coming to Yiqiao Street was obvious—it was all for Nianxi. If he were to go out with Father Wen, it would drastically deviate from his main goal. Just as he was about to decline Wen’s father’s kind invitation subtly, a thought struck him. He inquired about the location of the gathering and then agreed with a smile.

Recently, Nianxi has been busy with her shop. Amid the bitter cold, Fusheng Banzhan introduced a new winter special drink. These past two days, she had been focused on perfecting the flavors of the new beverages. She had gradually developed a better understanding of drink flavors. With slight improvements to the recipe, she could achieve even more delightful tastes, and in doing so, she found her own sense of enjoyment.

The shop had returned to its former bustling glory.

The passing women and young ladies all wore amicable smiles as if the recent coldness and distance were nothing but a fleeting dream. For the first time, Nianxi deeply understood the imposing majesty of imperial power. This was what Pei Jian pursued—power, which could grant life or bring death.

The other day, Nianxi received a letter from Gu Ci from afar. Along with the letter was a bundle of furs and a glossy young colt.

The letter mentioned that Nianxi’s birthday was approaching. Being on a campaign with an uncertain schedule—where battles could last for days or even nights—he feared missing the occasion, so he had prepared the gifts in advance and sent them early.

This was the first letter she had received. Gu Ci must have sent it out long ago, but by now, her birthday was already half a month past. It was only at this moment that Nianxi fully grasped the vast distance between them.

The letter was thick, describing unfamiliar food, harsh spirits he couldn’t drink, and the expansive beauty of the northern frontier. He wrote that no one in the army cared about manners, and amidst the rough company, he felt out of place. To fit in and gain their respect, he had grown a full beard, joking that she might not recognize him if she saw him. He also mentioned that he missed the drinks from Fusheng Banzhan.

As Nianxi read the letter carefully, she could clearly sense how Gu Ci had grown more composed between the lines. The carefree and sunny aura he once carried gradually faded, replaced by a resolute strength. The one thing that remained unchanged, however, was his tender thoughtfulness.

Every word and sentence felt like he was an old friend from afar, confiding in her about the changes in his life. He showed the same care for her, yet with added tact and distance. Before he could make any promises, he took half a step back, returning the choice to Nianxi.

After finishing the letter, Nianxi couldn’t help but feel a touch of melancholy.

Zhou Yanli, standing by her side, seemed to notice her low spirits. With a smile, he suggested, “Elder Sister, the day after tomorrow is the Winter Solstice. The South Market will be lively, and there’s even an archery competition. Shall we go and have a look?”

Winter Solstice?

Suddenly, Nianxi recalled many years ago, on this very day, her father had gone out and gotten into a collision with someone. It had taken him half a year to fully recover. Her mother had been deeply worried because of it.

Nianxi tried to remember carefully—was it when she was sixteen that her father’s accident had happened?