Chapter 3

Lu Lanyi opened her eyes.  

A new day.  

She wasn’t dead.  

Still alive.  

Lu Lanyi was astonished.  

She remembered clearly—this was the day she was supposed to die, the anniversary of her death. Every year, the Yang family would burn paper money ingots to honor her. After her death, they treated her better than they ever had while she was alive.  

In the first few years after her passing, her resentment hadn’t been too strong. Partly because of this, even though she couldn’t use a single one of those paper money ingots, Yang Wen Xu would sit quietly in the small room where her memorial tablet was kept for half a day, his expression solemn and silent. Servants gossiped, and word spread—people praised him for his deep affection. Listening to this, Lanyi had even harbored a faint hope. Maybe he felt guilty, maybe he regretted what he’d done to her.  

Until later, when Yang Wen Xu was about to marry a new wife and packed her memorial tablet away with Consort Jiang’s and others, shipping them all back to their hometown.  

Only then did Lanyi realize she had been nothing but a joke!  

Yang Wen Xu had simply squeezed every last drop of use out of her. Even in death, he wouldn’t let her go—he had to milk her for one final boost to his reputation, draining her to the very last drop of marrow.  

It was with this kind of ruthlessness that he had managed to squeeze into the Grand Secretariat at the age of thirty-four, becoming one of the youngest Grand Scholars and standing among the elite few at the pinnacle of power.  

Given the new emperor’s special relationship with him and the trust placed in him, it was only a matter of time before he rose to become the Grand Secretariat—a future Lanyi hadn’t lived to see.  

And she never wanted to.  

Whether dead or alive.  

If dead, she would claw out his heart and liver. If alive, she would become the biggest, most immovable stumbling block on his path to glory, ensuring he never knew peace or satisfaction again.  

“Madam, time for your medicine.”  

Cui Cui appeared punctually by the bedside, just as she had the day before. After propping Lanyi’s head up a little higher, she brought over the medicine bowl.  

She fed her, and Lanyi drank absentmindedly.  

Cui Cui chided her affectionately, “Madam, what you said yesterday made me cry half the night. But look at you today—your spirits are already better! Honestly, don’t scare me like that again. I’m sure Madam will recover.”  

Lanyi did feel better than the day before. She hadn’t looked in a mirror, but she could tell her gaze was clearer, and she even had the energy to make longer-term plans.  

Maybe she had truly been reborn. Maybe she wouldn’t die after all.  

This “maybe” grew more certain with each passing moment.  

One day passed, then another, and another—she still hadn’t died.  

Over these three days, Yang Wen Xu had taken leave from the Hanlin Academy to observe mourning, directed the servants to pack their belongings, and arranged for carriages and boats. Early the next morning, they would set off for their hometown to attend the funeral.  

Cui Cui grew anxious again. “Madam, how can your body endure such a journey in this state?”  

Lu Lanyi didn’t answer.  

They both knew she had no choice. Her mother-in-law had passed away—as the daughter-in-law, she might be too weak to handle the arrangements, but as long as she had a breath left in her, she had to crawl back to make an appearance. Otherwise, she would have no place left in this world.  

“I won’t die,” she said after a long pause.  

For some reason, she was certain of this. If she hadn’t died when she was supposed to, she wouldn’t just drop dead on the road.  

No matter how reluctant Cui Cui was, at dawn the next day, she and another young maid carried Lu Lanyi into the carriage. Lanyi was so thin and light from illness that lifting her wasn’t much effort.  

The courtyard gate stood open. Neighbors who had risen early and heard the commotion came to see them off. When Mrs. He saw the scene, words caught in her throat. She could only stand by the carriage and say to Lanyi, “Take care.”  

Lu Lanyi nodded in acknowledgment.

Mrs. Fan stood on tiptoe, half-leaning into the carriage, and handed over a paper package: “This is good ginseng from my family’s stock. I’ve cut half a root for you. If you feel weak on the journey, have your maid brew it into a tonic for you—it works wonders.”

This was no small gift. Like the Yang family, the Fan family had yet to rise to prominence, and such precious medicinal herbs were not easily obtained. Due to the subtle rivalry between Yang Wenxu and Hanlin Fan, the two families had maintained a surface cordiality but were never truly close. Lu Lanyi was surprised at first, but after a moment’s thought, she understood and struggled to sit up and express her gratitude.

Her thanks were sincere. Hanlin Fan might be Yang Wenxu’s rival, but not hers. She hadn’t realized this before, but she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Seeing her appreciation, Mrs. Fan was delighted and quickly gestured for her to lie back down. “No need for formalities. Take care on your journey.”

Yang Wenxu had hired three carriages in total: one for Lu Lanyi and Cui Cui, one for Yang Wenxu and Consort Jiang with Big Brother, and one for the wet nurse, Big Sister, and the youngest, Rui Ge’er. With a heavy lock securing the courtyard gate, they set off on their journey home.

**

The journey was urgent. Madam Yang’s coffin still lay at home, awaiting Yang Wenxu’s return for the funeral. As the eldest and only son, his absence would leave no one to carry the spirit tablet or smash the burial bowl, making the funeral rites incomplete.

As for whether Lu Lanyi, in her frail state, could endure the trip—that would depend on her fate.

This time, her fate proved resilient.

After leaving Tongzhou, they abandoned the carriages for a boat, drifting on the water for seven or eight days. She drank Ginseng Tonic twice before switching back to carriages for another two days of jolting travel, finally entering the prefecture of Qingzhou in Shandong Province—Yidu County.

Qingzhou was one of the ancient Nine Provinces, located in the east, corresponding to spring in the five seasons. As recorded in the *Taikang Diji* of the Jin Dynasty: “Qingzhou, the eastern region of youthful yang, its color green, its energy pure—the beginning of the year, the start of affairs, hence named ‘Qing’ (green).”

This was the hometown of Yang Wenxu and Lu Lanyi.

Originally, their families did not live in the city but in Yunmen Township under Yidu County. Later, after Yang Wenxu passed two imperial examinations in succession, both families prospered. Lu Lanyi’s father, a rural landlord who had built his fortune early, was more socially adept. He sold some land and, leveraging his son-in-law’s reputation, acquired three prime-location shops in the county town. Within two or three years, he recouped the money from the land sale, repurchased the sold land, and continued to acquire more each year. By now, he was a major landlord with thousands of acres.

Master Yang was slightly less successful. He also bought shops and land, but his vision and boldness paled in comparison to Lu’s father. Moreover, his household expenses were higher than the Lu family’s, so his accumulated wealth fell short. Still, he had acquired a grand three-courtyard residence in the city, along with over a dozen servants, and was respectfully addressed as “Master Yang” wherever he went.

The carriages waited at the city gate for inspection before entering.

Yidu was the seat of the prefectural government, and the Qingzhou Prefecture’s administrative offices were located there. Thus, though nominally a county town, its population and economy far surpassed those of ordinary counties. The line before the city gate stretched for miles.

Yang Wenxu grew impatient and ordered Steward Yang, “Take my name card and speak to the guards. Have them let us through first.”

Steward Yang puffed out his chest. “Yes, sir.”

The name card was tucked in his robe, having proven useful many times on the journey. Though Yang Wenxu was merely a Hanlin scholar in mourning, it was enough to deal with troublesome minor officials.

He strode forward, paying no heed to the merchants and villagers in line. Just as he neared the gate, a commotion erupted behind him.

“Move aside!”

“Get out of the way! Have you no eyes? Don’t block the road!”

“Hey, you there! Move your carts to the side! How dare you block the Young Prince’s way?”

The shout was directed at the three carriages of the Yang family, which were indeed stuck in the crowd, obstructing the path behind them.

Yang Wen Xu frowned.

What Young Prince?

He wasn’t one to pick fights, but the attitude of the group behind them was unbearably rude. If he simply gave way now, it would seem too weak.

“Hey! Are you deaf or blind? You’re in the way, don’t you know?”

The group behind them pressed again—about seven or eight people in total, surrounding and guarding a carriage in their midst. The carriage’s curtain was lifted, revealing a young boy seated inside.

The boy had delicate features, dressed in crimson brocade, his expression aloof. Though young, he carried an air of noble arrogance that belied his tender age.

“Master,” Steward Yang, having recognized the situation, hurried back and whispered to Yang Wen Xu inside the carriage, “You’ve been away for years and might not know—this is the Young Prince of Prince Yi’s household. We should yield.”

Within Qingzhou City, there wasn’t just the Qingzhou Prefecture Office but another, far more imposing and significant residence—Prince Yi’s Residence.

Prince Yi, the fifth son of the current emperor, had been enfeoffed in Qingzhou thirteen years ago and had governed here ever since.

Yang Wen Xu understood now. He had heard of this prince, but during his time in Qingzhou, he had mostly lived in the countryside. Only after passing the imperial exams and receiving support from his wife’s family had he moved to the city to study for a few years, mostly keeping to the prefectural school’s circles. Later, he left for the capital to take the higher exams, became an official, and never returned.

His knowledge of affairs outside Qingzhou’s prefectural school was limited.

In his memory, Prince Yi kept a low profile, reputedly devoted to Daoist pursuits, and had little presence among the common folk.

For the people, this was a good thing—one couldn’t expect much from these imperial descendants beyond them not causing trouble.

“Move aside,” Yang Wen Xu instructed the drivers of the carriages.

Prince Yi’s reputation wasn’t bad, and though the young prince was arrogant, Yang Wen Xu was here for a funeral. There was no need to clash with a child.

The drivers began maneuvering the carts, but each was heavily loaded with people and belongings, and the surrounding crowd made progress slow.

The Young Prince in the carriage curled his lip in disdain.

His servants grew impatient and began shouting, “Quit dawdling! Do you think our Young Prince’s time is yours to waste?”

“Hurry up already!”

One of the servants even brandished a horsewhip, threatening to strike the slowest carriage carrying the wet nurse and two children. Though he didn’t actually lash out, Big Sister, peeking through the fluttering curtain, was frightened into quiet sobs.

Yang Wen Xu’s expression darkened.

Though only a seventh-rank official, his years in the Hanlin Academy had broadened his perspective and status beyond that of ordinary officials. He wasn’t particularly intimidated by these princes, confined to their fiefdoms as if under house arrest.

He straightened up, ready to reprimand them, but before he could speak, the servant’s face suddenly changed. His whip dropped, and his entire body collapsed to the ground as if his bones had melted.

Yang Wen Xu was stunned.

Following the direction of the servant’s prostration, he saw nothing unusual at first—the commotion at the city gate continued as before. But upon closer inspection, he noticed the inspecting soldiers and the gate officials had all knelt down. Some of the nearby townsfolk immediately followed suit, while others hesitated before fear won out, and they too knelt in confusion.

At this moment, two riders emerged one after another at a leisurely pace.

The man on the first horse was tall, dressed in a dark blue Daoist robe, appearing to be around thirty years old. His face was well-proportioned with clear, sparse eyebrows and a sharply defined jawline, exuding an air of solitary detachment from worldly affairs.

The one behind seemed to be a servant or attendant. As he reached the side of the groveling bully servant, he raised an eyebrow and spoke in a slightly shrill voice: “You wretched cur! Who taught you to throw your weight around? Not only do you refuse to better yourself, but you dare act this way in front of your young master—aren’t you afraid of corrupting him?”

The bully servant trembled and kowtowed repeatedly: “Grandpa Dou, spare me! This lowly one will never dare again!”

“Grandpa Dou” sneered: “Go back and receive twenty lashes. If there’s a next time, you’ll be kicked out to farm the estate lands.”

The bully servant kowtowed with a loud thud: “Yes, yes! Many thanks for Grandpa Dou’s mercy!”

By this point, Yang Wen Xu’s experience told him everything: this was clearly a eunuch.

As for the identity of the man on the first horse—it went without saying.

He stepped down from the carriage and bowed with neither humility nor arrogance: “This humble one is Yang Wen Xu, paying respects to Your Highness.”

During the Resignation to observe mourning period, one must resign from official positions, so he could no longer refer to himself as “this official” or “your subordinate.”

The man on the horse nodded slightly and spoke: “My child’s misbehavior has disturbed you and your family. I offer my apologies on his behalf.”

For someone of princely rank to say even this much was already generous. Yang Wen Xu had no grounds for complaint and clasped his hands in salute: “Your Highness is too kind.”

At this moment, the young boy from the carriage also descended and approached the horse, making a small fist salute: “Father.”

Prince Yi did not acknowledge him.

The boy pursed his lips and defended himself: “I didn’t mean for them to disturb people. They were blocking the road first.”

Only then did Prince Yi lower his gaze to look at him: “Did you see the white funeral banners on their carriage? The deceased deserve respect.”

The boy fell silent. He seemed both unconvinced and somewhat aggrieved.

Prince Yi paid him no further attention, lightly nudging his horse forward with his heels to continue on his way. After a pause, the boy chased after him and asked: “Father, are you going to Reverence Heaven Temple again?”

Without turning back, Prince Yi left only a faint “Mm” in response.

Inside Lu Lanyi’s carriage, Cui Cui—who had been too frightened by the series of events to make a sound—finally patted her chest and exhaled deeply: “That scared me to death! Thankfully that prince was quite reasonable.”

Lu Lanyi didn’t respond, leaning against a pile of soft pillows while gazing out through the carriage curtain Cui Cui had lifted.

This scene wasn’t unfamiliar to her—it had happened the last time too.

Only back then, she hadn’t been inside the carriage, but floating above it.

Freshly turned into a ghost, her mind had still been in a daze, and she’d done something rather foolish: she’d circled around Prince Yi, wondering if someone of noble status might have clearer vision that could detect her presence.

Naturally, the result was disappointment. Nobles weren’t immortals—they too only possessed ordinary mortal eyes.

This time, her weary gaze fixed on the boy standing outside the carriage.

She watched his small figure until the lonely boy was persuaded by the bully servants to return to his carriage. Her eyes never left his retreating back.

Author’s Note:

Note: Qingzhou, the eastern region of the rising sun… this is a reference.

I tweaked the synopsis a bit—removed the hat reference because it was… somewhat inappropriate *cough*… which has now made me resent the ex-husband character and really want to mess with him.