Qiao Yan truly felt she should express her gratitude to Madame Ma for her assistance.

After all, when Qiao Xuan mentioned his past to her, he wouldn’t go into detail about what those who had interacted or clashed with him looked like.

At most, he would mention the names of a few important individuals.

But Ma Lun’s situation was different.

Even though the Yuan family of Runan was one of the Four Great Families and highly esteemed,

they couldn’t avoid the complexities of social interactions in Luoyang.

It wasn’t acceptable to interact with others solely based on one’s status, as it would be a major taboo in official circles.

When Yuan Wei didn’t have the mental capacity to remember all these details, Ma Lun took charge of remembering them.

So when this first batch arrived at the Lingtai, almost all of them could be identified from her description, down to their Chinese zodiac signs.

These officials coming to offer condolences to Qiao Xuan.

Qiao Yan conducted herself properly and addressed them appropriately, it undoubtedly enhance their impression of her.

Ma Lun didn’t see anything wrong with discreetly guiding Qiao Yan.

In fact, she even felt a strange sense of achievement in this guidance, at least compared to when she used to focus all her thoughts on Yuan Wei.

Moreover, Qiao Yan’s remarkable memory meant that once she matched the guests’ appearances and names, Ma Lun didn’t need to say much more.

This undoubtedly reduced the chances of anyone noticing this discreet guidance.

Furthermore, in her previous interactions, Qiao Yan had clearly not taken a firm stance aside from her gestures of goodwill towards Liu Hong.

In other words, she didn’t need to have any emotional biases towards the guests; she just needed to avoid any major issues in her speech and conduct, guided by Ma Lun’s reminders.

That was probably the only moment where Qiao Yan almost slipped up, when Yuan Wei arrived.

He stared in the direction where Ma Lun was for quite some time, as if seeing his old wife clearly for the first time, with a somewhat shaken worldview.

So much so that when Qiao Yan greeted him, he almost didn’t snap out of it.

Qiao Yan tried hard not to show any hint of amusement on her face, and when Yuan Wei turned towards her, his expression was equally subtle.

It made sense.

Before, he had only heard about Qiao Yan causing a stir in the capital after receiving the marquisate of Leping, but he hadn’t formally met her yet.

But today, Yuan Wei had to come here.

Just seeing her made him think of the stern reprimand Liu Hong had directed at him in court.

And he couldn’t overtly show any dissatisfaction towards this child.

After all, this was the place where His Majesty permitted the memorial for Qiao Xuan.

Having served together in court in the past, even he had great respect for Qiao Xuan.

Now that he was gone, leaving only this ten-year-old child to uphold the Qiao family’s dignity, he couldn’t “bully” her.

In fact, he should be showing goodwill.

Moreover…

His Majesty personally bestowed the presence of the Deputy Imperial Censor to accompany the procession, and the Deputy Imperial Censor had arrived early.

Yuan Wei’s gaze immediately caught sight of the eight-foot bamboo handle adorned with a yak tail, the symbol of the Deputy Imperial Censor’s elevation granted by the Emperor to preside over the funeral rites, indirectly elevating Qiao Xuan’s status.

It was difficult to say if Liu Hong, with his unpredictable behavior, would assign the Deputy Imperial Censor the responsibility of supervision,

just as he unexpectedly knew about a conversation from decades ago.

Now, he was observing the behavior of everyone present here.

If any indiscretion were caught, it could lead to trouble in the future.

With these thoughts in mind, Yuan Wei hardly paid attention to his current surroundings, which were under the jurisdiction of his wife.

He couldn’t even dwell on the embarrassment he had felt earlier due to Qiao Yan’s ennoblement.

Instead, he immediately responded to Qiao Yan’s greeting.

However, his demeanor seemed somewhat insincere, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

In contrast, Grand Commandant Yang Ci, although he had opposed Liu Hong’s direct bestowal of the county marquisate, showed genuine sorrow during the mourning ceremony.

As Qiao Yan watched the comings and goings of these people, she gained a deeper understanding of the officialdom of the late Eastern Han Dynasty.

Even though Qiao Xuan had imparted his knowledge to her despite knowing she wasn’t his biological daughter, it didn’t seem like something she couldn’t understand.

Wang Fu’s words rang true: high-ranking officials of the Eastern Han Dynasty, represented by Yuan Wei, remained in their positions despite their moral decay.

This was also a reflection of the majority of former officials present today.

However, among those who had come from afar after several days of travel, there were more who showed genuine sorrow for Qiao Xuan’s death.

For example—

Cai Yong.

Cai Yong, renowned for his flying white hair and his engraving of the Xiping Stone Classics, set out from Wu Hui.

He received the news a few days later than others, but upon hearing it, he disregarded the dangers of bandits on the way and hurried to the capital.

Surprisingly, he arrived earlier than some others.

Fortunately, having offended the eunuch faction and fled, he found refuge with the Yang family.

Upon learning that he was heading to the capital to mourn Qiao Xuan, the Yang family, grateful for his past assistance, immediately arranged for a fast horse and escort for him.

If not for this, Cai Yong might not have dared to bring his daughter along when he came to the capital.

Having been exiled to Shuofang and then fleeing to Wu Hui, this girl, now seven or eight years old, already had a calm demeanor that rivaled that of adults.

As Cai Yong entered the memorial hall, his mournful wails drowned out all other sounds.

“Master Bojie is truly a man of genuine character,” Qiao Yan remarked with a touch of emotion. “Miss Cai, please come with me.”

While others might hesitate, Qiao Yan knew deep down that Cai Yong’s display was not a show; he was genuinely appreciative of others’ kindness and sincerely repaid their favors.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have lost his life with a sigh after Dong Zhuo’s death.

After a moment of thought, Qiao Yan continued, “I’ve heard of Miss Cai’s name; we share the same name, both with the character ‘Yan.'”

It was indeed a special coincidence and could serve as the start of a conversation.

But Cai Yan, mature beyond her years and cautious by nature, replied promptly, “Out of respect, please call me Zhaoji instead, my lord.”

Cai Yong was highly accomplished in literary creation and calligraphy.

Having only two daughters, he imparted all his knowledge and wisdom to them from a young age.

Cai Yan, showing remarkable talent, pleased Cai Yong, who gave her a name early on.

“Yan” symbolized the brilliance of jade.

So, she was given the name “Zhaoyi.”

Now, seeing that Qiao Yan shared her name, it was fitting to use a different character to avoid confusion.

However, this same topic was interrupted by Cai Yan with a simple phrase, “can be called Zhao Ji”, but in Qiao Yan’s view, the two characters “Zhao Ji” were indeed an exceptionally fitting name for her.

She was still young, with a face that showed signs of delicate beauty, yet in her eyes, there was already a sense of boldness and determination, exactly what the character “Zhao” could express.

Qiao Yan went along with it and called her Zhao Ji.

Cai Yan rarely interacted with people her age and didn’t realize that the Marquis of Leping, who was only a few years older than her, treated her differently.

She thought it was because of her father’s status and perhaps some care due to her being the youngest among the guests present.

Moreover, as the two entered the mourning hall, they saw Cai Yong kneeling in front of Qiao Xuan’s coffin, weeping bitterly, truly the most emotionally intense among the mourners.

In his somewhat incoherent speech, they barely made out that he was talking about an incident from the fourth year of Jianning.

The fourth year of Jianning, which was thirteen years ago.

At that time, Cai Yong was idle at home, spending his days with antiques to avoid being seized by the powerful eunuchs of that time and forced to play music.

Only Qiao Xuan valued his talent greatly, letting him serve as a clerk first, then sent him to be a county magistrate, and he rose to the rank of a court gentleman along the way.

It’s hard to say whether Cai Yong’s repeated remonstrations to Liu Hong were influenced by Qiao Xuan.

But what is certain is that Qiao Xuan had helped Cai Yong advance more than once during his career.

Because even in his weeping words now—”Yong is not good at forming cliques, it’s only with Lord Qiao’s grace and support that I could hope to see his face. It’s a pity that due to the words of pacifying disaster, I’ve been kept far from the capital and couldn’t see Lord Qiao even once…”

Qiao Yan choked up.

It was fortunate that Cai Yong arrived late, and today there were few people coming to pay their respects.

Otherwise, based on those words alone, he would have been exiled again.

The person was forced to leave the capital because of speaking out against the imperial court’s handling of disasters.

In the first year of Guanghe, strange phenomena frequently occurred in Luoyang.

Liu Hong summoned Cai Yong to inquire about it.

Cai Yong spoke frankly, stating that it was precisely because eunuchs were meddling in political affairs that these anomalies arose.

This led to the impeachment of several individuals, and subsequently, Cai Yong faced retaliation, resulting in his exile to the northern frontier.

Upon his return to the capital, he once again brought up this matter, seemingly testing the limits of danger.

However, even Qiao Yan couldn’t deny that although Cai Yong had served in office for many years, he still didn’t understand the intricacies of political maneuvering or how to protect himself wisely.

Yet, he possessed cultural depth and calligraphic mastery that could move anyone’s heart.

On the following day, beside the coffin of Qiao Xuan, there appeared Cai Yong, with his hands holding a long scroll, still showing traces of a greenish-black hue.

He actually wrote a eulogy overnight, which could be engraved as a monument inscription.

As he unfolded the scroll in his hand, the eulogy, with traces of tears on the ink, appeared before everyone.

“In the radiant annals, the honorable Yuan Gong of Han.

Profound and wise, truly sagacious and discerning.

Deep as an abyss, lofty as a peak. He pacified the borders with gentleness, leading the barbarians to follow.

He propagated teachings within the Central Plains, harmonizing the Five Classics.”

—This was an overall appraisal of Qiao Xuan, praising his lofty demeanor like that of a towering mountain.

“Noble and modest in nature, not coveting wealth or desires. Although he had many sons and grandsons, all served in official positions, he never sought favor or advancement for them.”

—This praised Qiao Xuan’s high position without seeking official careers for his descendants.

Originally, in historical records, this sentence was followed by another, stating that on the day of Qiao Xuan’s death, none of his descendants obtained high positions or good territories.

But there was an exception, Qiao Yan, who directly received the land of Le Ping and was even bestowed the title of Marquis of Le Ping.

These lines didn’t fit naturally in Cai Yong’s eulogy, so they were naturally omitted.

Qiao Yan thought to himself, his gaze uncontrollably fixating on the subsequent passage.

“His nature was upright, unafraid of exerting authority.

In the court, he was loyal to the rules; as a governor, he wielded the authority of a tiger’s roar.

He selected talents like swirling currents, punished evils like thunder strikes.

Wherever he went, a refreshing wind preceded him, shaking both near and far…”

These words were truly a masterpiece.

Especially the line “In the court, he was loyal to the rules; as a governor, he wielded the authority of a tiger’s roar…”

Qiao Yan stared at the coffin that had been still for several days, lost in thought.

Cai Yong’s words came from the heart; otherwise, he couldn’t have written a two-thousand-word eulogy overnight.

With such a eulogy, if Qiao Xuan knew beneath the earth, it would probably fulfill his wishes.

And with these two lines—

It was truly the highest praise for a loyal and capable minister. —

On June 24th in the seventh year of Guanghe, Qiao Xuan was buried north of Luoyang city, his body transported in a ceremonial carriage, with yellow banners on the left side, passing through Mangshan.

The Northern Army escorted the funeral procession to Le Ping.