Chapter 2

Consort Jiang hurried away with the three children, her steps somewhat flustered.  

The sudden news of the bereavement had clearly shocked her.  

Cui Cui was also at a loss. After temporarily settling Steward Yang to rest, she returned to ask Lu Lanyi, “Madam, what should we do now? I saw Consort Jiang heading toward the gate—she must be waiting for the master… Should we also send someone to wait?”  

Lanyi shook her head slightly. “Take out the mourning cloth and prepare the house. There’s no need to worry about anything else.”  

It was a pity that this borrowed breath of life she had somehow regained was too weak—she didn’t know when it might be cut off again. She couldn’t afford to gamble. Otherwise, she would have let Yang Wenxu conceal the news for a few more days before finding a way to expose it to the court, which would have capped his career prospects for life.  

Concealing a resignation to observe mourning was a grave taboo for officials.  

The household already had all the necessary items for a funeral—those had originally been prepared for Lanyi. The thought of this made Cui Cui’s heart ache. Holding back tears, she replied, “Understood.”  

She went out again, gathered all the servants, opened a side room used as a storeroom, and distributed stacks of mourning cloth. She then arranged for all festive decorations to be removed. Before long, the Yang family’s small courtyard had transformed.  

At a glance, everything was solemnly draped in white.  

The commotion was significant enough to draw the attention of the neighbors, who came to inquire. Upon hearing that Hanlin Yang’s mother in his hometown had passed away, they all expressed sympathy and sighs.  

Mrs. He from the left residence asked Cui Cui, “How is your madam’s health? She’s truly unfortunate—already gravely ill and now having to arrange such a major affair. We wouldn’t want to disturb the sick, but please pass on our regards and tell her to take care and not overexert herself.”  

Mrs. Fan from the right residence, whose husband was also a Hanlin scholar with more seniority than Yang Wenxu, added a few words of comfort: “If there’s anything we can help with, don’t hesitate to send someone to let us know.”  

Cui Cui nodded gratefully and was about to reply when Consort Jiang, standing nearby, stepped forward first and curtsied. “This humble one thanks the ladies on behalf of our madam.”  

Mrs. He gave a polite but perfunctory smile before leaving, supported by her maid. Mrs. Fan, however, lingered a while longer, exchanging a few words with Consort Jiang while her gaze remained fixed on the direction of the alley entrance.  

The Hanlin Academy was a prestigious institution, detached from mundane affairs, and its scholars could afford leisure. Yet those with ambition often worked until dusk before leaving their offices.  

Neither Hanlin Yang nor Hanlin Fan had returned home yet.  

In the meantime, doors from farther residences gradually opened as well—some homeowners came in person, while others sent servants to offer condolences. Cui Cui, worried about Lu Lanyi, had already returned to the main house, leaving Consort Jiang alone at the gate to receive visitors with appropriate grace.  

By the time the sun had fully set and the evening breeze carried the chill of late spring, two weary figures finally appeared at the mouth of the alley.  

Mrs. Fan quickly stepped forward to greet them.  

Consort Jiang also moved a few paces ahead.  

However, the two figures were momentarily delayed.  

The alley was home to lower-ranking court officials, and the first household at the entrance belonged to Clerk Wang from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. The Court of Imperial Sacrifices oversaw ancestral temple rituals and was an idle post outside of festivals and ceremonies. Clerk Wang had returned home early and now stopped one of the figures—Yang Wenxu—with a solemn expression. “Hanlin Yang, my condolences.”

Yang Wenxu’s expression shifted as he glanced toward his home’s entrance. Spotting Consort Jiang now dressed in plain white silk, comprehension dawned, and his heart sank. He sighed and clasped his hands in salute. “I’ve just returned from the yamen and was unaware of matters at home. Could it be my wife—”

Clerk Wang shook his head at him. “No, it’s your honored mother.”

Yang Wenxu: “……?!”

His face shattered!

Beside him, Hanlin Fan—a man in his early thirties who had worn the numb expression of someone battered by excessive official duties—suddenly came alive. “Really? Old Wang, you can’t joke about this. You’re not mistaken, are you?”

Clerk Wang’s face stiffened. “Hanlin Fan, mind your words. Why would I falsely curse another man’s mother? The news came from Yang Hanlin’s hometown messenger. His household’s Lady Jiang personally received the guests and announced it—the whole alley knows by now. How could it be wrong?”

Lady Jiang?

Yang Wenxu looked again at Consort Jiang in the distance. His expression crumbled further, his lips twitching between fury and grief. He seemed about to speak but forcibly restrained himself.

Hanlin Fan followed his gaze and spotted his own wife. He hurried over to ask, “Have you heard about Hanlin Yang’s family matter?”

Mrs. Fan approached and nodded. “Yes. Earlier, Cui Cui—the maid from his wife’s household—was bustling about outside. Ah, Madam Yang truly has it hard, being so ill herself. Master Yang, you should return home quickly. There’s much that requires your direction.”

Yang Wenxu stood frozen, as if grief had paralyzed him momentarily, unable to take a step.

Hanlin Fan patted his shoulder, coughing twice behind his hand as he advised, “Go on. Birth, aging, illness, and death are inevitable. What matters now is properly arranging your mother’s funeral affairs. Don’t worry about official duties—tomorrow I’ll request leave on your behalf from the academician and take over your workload. You may return to your hometown directly if needed.”

Yang Wenxu fixed him with a stare, slowly unclenching his jaw to say, “I wouldn’t dare trouble Brother Fan. I’ll personally explain my resignation to observe mourning to the academician.”

Hanlin Fan nodded repeatedly. “Very well.”

Finally, Yang Wenxu lifted his leaden feet and walked toward his home.

Behind him, Hanlin Fan sighed. “Ah, Master Yang must be utterly heartbroken.”

Clerk Wang murmured beside him, “You’re utterly delighted, aren’t you?”

“……!” Hanlin Fan’s eyebrows shot up. “Old Wang, what nonsense is this!”

Clerk Wang curled his lip. “That vacancy in the Left Chunfang is between you and Hanlin Yang—do you think I don’t know? Dare to lower your hand—I don’t believe you’re not smiling. You nearly failed to hold it back earlier in front of Hanlin Yang.”

Hanlin Fan denied vehemently, “I caught a chill—coughing, didn’t you hear me coughing just now…”

**

Yang Wenxu stepped through his household gate.

This was the place he’d lived in for three years in the capital—utterly familiar, though cramped. Its prime location near the Hanlin Academy had cost half his wife’s dowry.

Now it felt alien.

The omnipresent white assaulted his eyes. Though it was the season of falling blossoms, he might as well have stepped back into midwinter.

Consort Jiang followed him inside, whispering, “Are you weary, my lord? Please don’t grieve too deeply. Big Brother and the little ones are still young—they’ve never experienced such matters and may cry restlessly. I’ve had the nursemaids keep them in their rooms. Several families have already come to offer condolences. Knowing we won’t hold the funeral here in the capital, they’ve given their white envelopes in advance. I’ve recorded them all for you to return courtesy later—”

Her gentle and meticulous instructions finally ceased when she noticed the look in Yang Wenxu’s eyes—there was no sorrow, no relief at sharing the burden, only icy fury.

“Who asked you to meddle in these matters?” Yang Wenxu questioned harshly, without mercy.

Consort Jiang was rarely treated so coldly by him and was momentarily at a loss. “With the mistress ill and you away from home, Steward Yang suddenly came to report. Someone had to step forward to handle things—”

Since Lanyi had fallen ill, she had often taken charge of formal matters, always with Yang Wenxu’s tacit approval.

“That doesn’t mean it should be you!”

Yang Wenxu blurted out his second rebuke, and Consort Jiang couldn’t bear it, her eyes reddening.

The courtyard was small, and the entire household heard. Big Brother peeked out halfway from the eastern wing but was quickly pulled back by his wet nurse in alarm. “Young master, the elders are speaking. Don’t run around.”

Cui Cui, listening clearly through the main room’s window lattice, happily walked back to the bedside to relay the scene to Lanyi. After finishing, she added, “Mistress, did you hear? Consort Jiang’s flattery backfired. She tried to curry favor but only managed to anger the master.”

Lanyi responded indifferently with a faint “Hmm.”

She had long stopped being affected by such things.

Unable to contain her delight, Cui Cui continued, “Outside matters shouldn’t concern Consort Jiang anyway. The mistress never assigned her such duties. She eagerly positioned herself there, even accepting the white envelopes for condolences as if she were the rightful mistress. No wonder the master scolded her.”

But Yang Wenxu wasn’t angry for that reason.

Lying there, Lanyi allowed a faint smile to touch her lips. She called to Cui Cui, “Go see how furious he is now.”

Yang Wenxu, the proud scholar who had achieved the rank of jinshi at twenty-four, came from humble origins and was overly concerned about being looked down upon. He prided himself on maintaining composure, rarely showing emotion, even at home.

Cui Cui didn’t think much of it—she was eager to witness more of Consort Jiang’s humiliation. She turned to leave but had barely lifted the curtain when she saw Yang Wenxu approaching from outside.

Instinctively, she stepped aside.

Yang Wenxu entered.

The room’s furnishings remained largely unchanged. Since falling ill, Lu Lanyi had preferred simplicity, and the decor reflected that. She lay in bed, having barely eaten or drunk for days. Even the strictest filial customs wouldn’t demand a gravely ill person rise to change into mourning clothes.

Yang Wenxu paused mid-step. He had once found this room stifling, but now it seemed like a respite—a place where the piercing white of mourning outside didn’t exist, where everything remained as it should be.

Lu Lanyi saw him and watched quietly.

Yang Wenxu met her gaze.

Her face was the palest and most lifeless thing in the room, the strands of hair beside it dry and brittle, like a withered flower clinging to a branch, ready to fall at any moment.

His expression was inscrutable, and he said nothing.

Suddenly, Lu Lanyi smiled.

She didn’t need him to speak.

After so many years of marriage, how could she not know what was in his heart?

“Master,” she murmured with a weary laugh, “are you thinking how much better it would be if I were the one who died?”

Yang Wenxu’s voice was heavy. “Don’t talk nonsense.”

Lu Lanyi didn’t argue. She turned her dull gaze to the canopy above, her faint smile lingering.

Whether she was talking nonsense, they both knew. There was no need for pointless debate.

“Don’t worry, Master,” she said softly. “It will only be a day or two now.”

Cui Cui couldn’t bear to hear this and burst into sobs with a “Wuu” sound. Yang Wenxu finally showed some emotion as well, taking a step forward and saying, “I’ll make arrangements regarding Mother. You should focus on recovering—don’t overthink things. You’ll get better.”

Lu Lanyi simply smiled.

She didn’t care about getting better. If she became a ghost, she would continue to claw at his heart and liver.

With that thought, she even felt a sense of peace settle over her.

Yang Wenxu stood there a moment longer, having nothing more to say, then turned and left.

Only then did Lanyi speak: “Cui Cui.”

Cui Cui sobbed her way to the bedside. “Madam…”

“You know where I’ve hidden my private savings, don’t you?”

Cui Cui wiped her tears and nodded.

After nearly eight years of marriage into the Yang family, Lu Lanyi had poured in more than half her dowry. What little remained had been divided into two portions—one openly accounted for, the other secretly set aside by Lanyi for emergencies. The last time she fell gravely ill, she’d been too delirious to make arrangements.

“After I die, that portion is yours. Take it, tell no one, and live your own life. Do you understand?”

“…Wuuu, Madam!”

This was clearly her final wishes. Cui Cui nearly collapsed in tears by the bedside.

Lu Lanyi closed her eyes.

She had dismantled one rung of Yang Wenxu’s ladder to success, prevented her entire dowry from being buried with the Yang family, and made arrangements for those closest to her. This day of life had been worth it.

Not seeing tomorrow’s sunrise no longer mattered or frightened her.

She waited peacefully for death.

Author’s Note:

Busy all day, finally have time to send out some red packets now. (*￣3)(ε￣*)

Regarding updates—I realized 9 PM is a bit too late, so I’m moving it up an hour. From now on, let’s tentatively set it for 8 PM.

Many thanks for everyone’s support. As Lanyi dismantles her ex-husband’s ladder to success rung by rung, I’ll be building my own career ladder step by step. Sometimes I think I should just keep working this stable job that provides basic needs, but I truly have no interest in my work content. The thought of dedicating the best eight hours of each day for the next decade-plus to something I dislike makes me unwilling. Life isn’t that long—I want to try a different path~