Chapter 23

Ying Yue wasn’t truly detached enough to disregard the rest of her dowry—she simply hadn’t gotten around to it yet, wanting first to find what she was looking for.  

She finally unearthed it from the bottom of the chest. It was a rather shabby-looking book—no cover, no title, barely even qualifying as a “book” at all, since it had never been printed or published. This was the only copy in existence, with every step from writing to binding done by the author’s own hands.  

The contents were eclectic: reading notes, travel journals, reflections on court policies, and even two peculiar legal cases—fifty-two essays in total, spanning about a hundred and fifty pages. It had a satisfying heft in her hands.  

Ying Yue exhaled in relief, treating it like a treasure as she set it aside. She carefully smoothed out a creased corner and gently brushed away the tiny frayed edges. Despite her meticulous efforts, it didn’t transform—it remained an unassuming book, or rather, a booklet.  

But to her, it held the greatest significance.  

This was the first thing that made her realize books could contain more than the rigid, tedious lessons of *Admonitions for Women* or *Biographies of Exemplary Women*—that they could carry the most fascinating and delightful things in the world.  

The author of this booklet was Ying Yue’s grandfather, the most accomplished man the Xu family had ever produced—Old Minister Xu, a literary star descended from heaven.  

Burdened with official duties, Old Minister Xu had spent his final years revising the *Inquiry and Punishment Regulations* as the Minister of Justice, leaving him little leisure. This booklet was something he had scribbled in stolen moments, pieced together intermittently over time. It lacked structure or embellishment, just hastily bound together.  

This seemed unbefitting of Old Minister Xu’s status, but then again, his purpose wasn’t to produce a scholarly work. It was meant to broaden the horizons of his eldest grandson, Xu Shangxuan, and rekindle his interest in reading.  

In other words, this booklet should have belonged to Ying Yue’s legitimate elder brother, Xu Shangxuan. The reason it ended up in her hands was simple: Xu Shangxuan’s aptitude for scholarship was mediocre at best, and his enthusiasm was sorely lacking. If not for that, Old Minister Xu wouldn’t have gone to such lengths, squeezing out this booklet between legal revisions.  

Yet, despite Old Minister Xu’s painstaking efforts, he couldn’t ignite any scholarly passion in Xu Shangxuan. The boy’s disinterest in reading was absolute—anything with words repelled him, regardless of content.  

At the time, Ying Yue had only just begun her studies, suffering through the torment of texts like *Admonitions for Women*—one of the *Four Books for Women*. By chance, she stumbled upon this booklet, carelessly discarded by Xu Shangxuan, and it was like stepping through a new door. Old Minister Xu had risen from humble farming roots to become a top scholar, climbing step by step to the heights of Minister without any backing. His literary talent and worldly experience shone through in every essay—elegant, insightful, and brimming with wit—drawing in Ying Yue, who could barely recognize half the characters.  

Back then, Ying Yue, not yet ten, couldn’t articulate what made this booklet so special. Many passages she only half-understood, yet she still found it wonderful—far, far more interesting than *Admonitions for Women*.

She mustered the greatest courage of her life to borrow it from Xu Shangxuan. Though he had an indifferent relationship with his half-sister, he didn’t think much of the booklet and casually lent it to Ying Yue. Not long after, Old Minister Xu passed away, and Xu Shangxuan lost all restraint in his studies. He remembered owning the booklet but had no interest in reading it. Since he wasn’t going to read it, there was no need to ask his half-sister to return it. Without his demand, Ying Yue had ample time to stumble through it on her own, seizing every opportunity during lessons to ask about unfamiliar characters and phrases. It took her two or three years to finish reading all fifty-two essays—though “finish” was a stretch. Old Minister Xu had compiled the booklet for his eldest grandson’s studies, not as light reading for her. The profound principles within remained beyond her full comprehension even now.

For her, the greatest gain was expanding her literacy beyond the *Four Books for Women* to more commonly used characters. By then, Madam Xu felt that young ladies didn’t need to study year after year and dismissed the female tutor. This didn’t affect Ying Yue much, as she could now read ordinary books on her own.

Even at this point, the booklet’s rightful owner was still Xu Shangxuan. Ying Yue was reluctant to return it but knew she couldn’t keep it forever. When she felt she could delay no longer, she finally took it to him.

But fate—or rather, Madam Xu—helped her once more.

Thanks to Madam Xu, Xu Shangxuan had already fallen into his father-in-law’s hands. Madam Xu, ever meticulous with her eldest son, had even sent her daughter-in-law back to her parents’ home to accompany him in his studies as a gesture of sincerity to the in-laws. The father-in-law, burdened by such responsibility, took his duty seriously and disciplined his son-in-law as strictly as his own son.

For the academically challenged Xu Shangxuan, this was far worse than being under Old Minister Xu’s supervision—his grandfather had been much busier, older, and lacking the energy to press him relentlessly.

Ying Yue seized the moment when Xu Shangxuan returned home to pay respects to return the book. At the sight of it, Xu Shangxuan felt his head swell with dread. It wasn’t that he disregarded his grandfather’s efforts, but he simply didn’t want to look at another book. Seeing how attached his half-sister was to it—her reluctance to part with it evident—he thought it wouldn’t hurt to let her keep it. After all, they were family, and it wasn’t going to outsiders.

Thus, the booklet remained with Ying Yue in the end. And when she was substituted in the marriage, Madam Xu, unaware of its significance, swept it up along with everything else to pad the dowry.

Finding it now, Ying Yue was even happier. She carefully straightened the booklet, placed two heavier books on top to flatten it further, then stood up to stretch her numb legs. With her spirits lifted, she turned her curiosity to the rest of the dowry.

Shinan had refrained from disturbing her but kept a watchful eye. Seeing that Ying Yue seemed finished, she cheerfully unfolded half a bolt of crimson satin and approached, holding it up against Ying Yue. “First Madam, look at this color and pattern—so vibrant and delicate, it’ll complement your complexion beautifully. A jacket and skirt set made from this would be stunning.”

Ying Yue had never yearned for such fine clothes and jewelry before, nor envied her elder sister Wangyue for having them. But now that they were hers, she was happy to admire and consider them. “A whole set… wouldn’t it be too bright?”

Yuzan laughed. “At First Madam’s age, and as a new bride, even the brightest colors are perfectly fitting.”

Yifang, quick to notice the opportunity, chimed in with flattery: “First Madam has such fair skin—this fabric will surely complement you beautifully and make your complexion glow even more.”

Shinan took the satin back and decisively said, “Then it’s settled. We’ll start with one set. Yuzan and I will cut it out today, and we can begin sewing tomorrow.”

Ying Yue nodded cheerfully, “We’ll stitch it together.”

She knew how to make clothes, having learned some needlework, though not masterfully—just enough to get by, much like her familiarity with *Admonitions for Women*. About half of the old clothes in her trunk were made from seasonal fabrics provided by Madam Xu, which she and her maids would then sew together behind closed doors.

Now, with new fabric in hand, she instinctively suggested the same. But Yifang quickly interjected, “Why trouble First Madam to do it herself? What use are we then? If you trust me with the fabric, I can finish it for you in three days at most.”

Ying Yue paused, suddenly remembering—she no longer had just two maids. Madam Hong had foisted six upon her at once. While it was a nuisance, the upside was more hands to share the work.

Regardless of their true intentions, since they were here, they had to pitch in. If Ying Yue didn’t assign tasks, they’d find ways to keep themselves busy anyway.

She didn’t want to keep them, but there was no sending them back. Not one to make things difficult—she didn’t even know how to give someone a cold shoulder—she hesitantly agreed, “Then… you’ll do it?”

Yifang took her hesitation as an order and beamed, “I’ll do it!”

Eagerly, she pulled Shinan aside to ask about Ying Yue’s measurements and sought advice on the style of the jacket and skirt—how many panels for the skirt, what patterns for the trim. Girls could chatter endlessly about such things, and soon Shinan was enthusiastically discussing ideas with her.

Ying Yue wandered around the now much fuller bridal chamber, but before long, she gravitated back to her books. The new curios and furnishings were intriguing, but after a glance, they held no lasting appeal. Organizing her books was far more engaging.

The room lacked a proper bookshelf, but there was a cabinet with lattice shelves by the window—three rows of wooden compartments on top and double doors below. She wondered if the books could fit there. Yuzan, following her gaze, guessed her thoughts and said, “I think they’ll fit. I overlooked this earlier—we shouldn’t have put other things there. I’ll clear them now.”

Amid the earlier chaos, the maids had placed decorative items like vases on the shelves. Hearing Yuzan, they promptly removed them. When it came to arranging the books, Ying Yue insisted on doing it herself. She carefully sorted them by category, preference, and frequency of use before placing each one on the shelves.

When a maid moved to help, Ying Yue shook her head, “No need, I’ll do it.”

Yuzan gently pulled her away and whispered, “First Madam always organizes her books herself. From now on, just dust the shelves—no need to touch the arrangement.”

After some time, Ying Yue finally finished. She dusted her hands and stepped back to admire her work, a deep sense of satisfaction bubbling up, her lips curling into a smile.

Just then, two maids entered—one carrying stationery, the other a stack of rice paper. They bowed and announced, “These were sent by Fang Han Xiao.”

Probably because of the inconvenience of writing with his hand yesterday, he thought of having someone bring some paper and brushes.

He sent quite a substantial amount—just brushes alone numbered seven or eight, lined up in a row. Ying Yue’s eyes immediately landed on a jade-handled brush. The entire brush was a rich, translucent emerald green, carved with bamboo patterns.

At home, Ying Yue had always used the most common bamboo-handled brushes and had never owned anything so exquisite. As soon as the maid who delivered the items left, she couldn’t resist picking it up to admire it.

Seeing how much she liked it, Yuzan had an idea and whispered, “Since the master sent these over, First Madam should be able to use them.”

Ying Yue nodded eagerly. “Mhm, mhm.”

She wanted to try it right away. Though the jade handle felt slightly cool in her hand—a sensation she wasn’t quite used to—the brush was simply too beautiful. It felt like using it would make her handwriting twice as elegant.

Yuzan added, “The master is actually quite kind.”

Ying Yue responded vaguely, “—Mm.”

She wasn’t denying that Fang Hanxiao was unkind, but she simply couldn’t form a clear judgment of him. A lingering haze in her heart kept her from seeing through his true nature.

Taking her vague response as agreement, Yuzan continued, “Then from now on, First Madam should live harmoniously with the master. When he comes, try to talk with him a little more.”

Ying Yue hesitated and found an excuse. “He can’t speak.”

What could she possibly say to Fang Hanxiao? It would just feel awkward.

Yuzan sighed. “First Madam—”

Ying Yue held up the brush with a pleading smile, and Yuzan couldn’t bring herself to press further, simply smiling back.

Truthfully, she wasn’t very skilled at persuasion either. She only spoke up because she felt she ought to, but when it didn’t work, she let it go.

The day passed unnoticed as they busied themselves organizing the dowry. Sorting through so many items in a single day was quite a challenge, so the work continued into the next morning.

Fang Hui stopped by for a brief visit in the morning, but Wang Shi, seeing how busy they were, soon pulled her away.

In the afternoon, Fang Hanxiao arrived.

He came to discuss the matter of the bridal return visit. According to custom, he was supposed to take Ying Yue back to the Xu family the following day. However, he had no intention of going. Old Master Fang understood his feelings but still urged him, “Just go! And while you’re there, give Xu Huaiying a good scolding on my behalf. Hmph!”

Fang Hanxiao gave him a silent look, which made Old Master Fang realize his mistake. “Ah—right, you can’t scold him.”

Written insults on paper could never match the satisfaction of a verbal tirade.

Old Master Fang grumbled regretfully, “He won’t get away with it. Once I’m back on my feet, I’ll go give him a piece of my mind myself!”

Fang Hanxiao listened without reacting.

Old Master Fang then urged him again, “If you don’t want to go, just say your wife needs to recover from her injuries. The Xu family wouldn’t dare argue with you over that. But go tell your wife in person.”

What was the point of holing up in Tranquil Virtue Courtyard with an old man like him? He was clinging to life in hopes of holding a great-grandson!

Fang Hanxiao initially considered sending a servant to relay the message, but Old Master Fang wouldn’t hear of it, pestering him relentlessly. Unable to resist the nagging, he decided a short trip wouldn’t hurt and set off.

When he entered the bridal chambers’ courtyard, he found the main room’s doors and windows wide open, with maids bustling in and out.

Beneath the opened window, a new desk had been brought in from elsewhere. Ying Yue sat facing the window, her head slightly bowed, a spring-like smile playing at the corners of her lips. Delighted, she was using his brush, spreading out the rice paper he had sent, and writing something with her wrist elegantly poised.  

Fang Han Xiao: “…”  

She certainly knew how to pick—she had chosen his most frequently used brush in one go.