Chapter 10 – Her Tactics Are a Bit Vicious

In her heart, Li couldn’t help but complain that Tang Chaoyang was being reckless.

The maid Liu’er came forward again to serve Li more tea.

While pouring the tea for Madam Su, she turned her back to Old Madam Fei—just enough for Li to spot the hidden slip of paper.

[Eldest Aunt, all is well.]

Li silently let out a breath of relief.

It seemed Tang Chaoyang hadn’t been foolish enough to actually poison Old Madam Fei.

Old Madam Fei picked up a piece of the sakura water chestnut cake and took a bite. It was fragrant, tender, and not overly sweet—clearly, the Su family’s chef was skilled.

She enjoyed her tea and cake, but after waiting all morning and seeing the Su family stubbornly refuse to let her take Fei An’an away, she stormed off in anger.

She would come back tomorrow—and if needed, she’d make a scene at the Su family gates!

Once Old Madam Fei had left, Li immediately went to the western courtyard’s Jinhe Hall to find Tang Chaoyang.

Before Li could say a word, Tang Chaoyang calmly explained,
“Eldest Aunt, rest assured, there was nothing seriously wrong with the tea or cakes given to Old Madam Fei.”

“It’ll just keep her from sleeping well for the next few nights. Don’t worry—even the Imperial Physician wouldn’t be able to detect anything.”

She’d done it only to ensure Old Madam Fei wouldn’t have the energy to make trouble at the Su residence over the coming days.

Li didn’t know what to say for a moment. She just felt… Tang Chaoyang was acting too boldly.

Tang Chaoyang glanced at her aunt and could tell she didn’t approve of her methods.

But based on her knowledge of Old Madam Fei, if the woman was full of energy tomorrow, she’d definitely be wailing and throwing tantrums at the gates of the General’s Estate.

When Old Madam Su heard what Tang Chaoyang had done, she actually nodded in approval, her tone protective.

“Just making her sleep poorly—nothing serious.”

Li: “…”

Still, Old Madam Su couldn’t help but ask,
“Chaoyang, there really are medicines like that? That only take one dose to disrupt sleep?”

“There are. As long as one disturbs the flow of qi and blood, it can affect the mind and spirit,” Tang Chaoyang replied. “This one was a blend I prepared myself—it won’t harm her life.”

Li sat quietly nearby, growing increasingly skeptical the more she listened.

She asked flatly, “When did you learn how to make your own medicine?”

Tang Chaoyang smiled. “These past few years, I’ve been reading a lot of medical texts. The more I read, the more I picked up.”

Li nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

Seriously? That was her explanation?

Old Madam Fei was the mother of the Prime Minister, and this girl had the audacity to serve her self-made concoction based on casual self-study?

What if something had actually happened?

Clearly, Tang Chaoyang was someone reckless and daring!

“Chaoyang, you mustn’t do such things again,” Li said sternly. “Even if you’ve taught yourself some medicine, you can’t just go around giving people your own blends.”

Tang Chaoyang wasn’t offended. She understood that anyone in Li’s position would think she was being rash.

She bowed and said earnestly,
“Eldest Aunt, I know you’re looking out for me. As the old oil seller once said—‘No special secret, just practice.’ Some things are learned through experience.”

Then she added with self-deprecation,
“Chaoyang isn’t talented at music, chess, calligraphy, or painting. Only medicine—I’m halfway decent.”

Li: “……”

Old Madam Su chuckled and gently tapped her granddaughter’s forehead with a finger.
“At least you know yourself. But knowing a little medicine is better than nothing. Not too foolish, then.”

Tang Chaoyang gently picked little An’an out of her grandmother’s arms and set him aside, then slipped into the old lady’s arms herself and clung to her affectionately.

Fei An’an: “……”

Seeing how Old Madam Su spoiled Tang Chaoyang gave Li a headache.

---

On the huanghuali imperial desk in the imperial study lay a dossier from the shadow guards’ investigation.

Ling Gurong opened it and skimmed the contents. It confirmed that the woman he’d encountered in the mountains near Guangping Village was indeed Fei Yan’s former wife, Tang Chaoyang.

He glanced over the details—what a coincidence—and then closed the file.

Chief Eunuch Feng checked the sandglass and respectfully reminded, “Your Majesty, it’s now the hour of Si (9–11 a.m.).”

Today, scholars from all over the kingdom had gathered in the capital to take part in the imperial exams. Some of them would be debating at a local teahouse.

After hearing of it from Fei Yan, Ling Gurong had decided to leave the palace to listen in.

There was a dire shortage of capable officials at court.

During the reign of the previous emperor, indulgence and decadence had resulted in a bloated bureaucracy filled with idle and inept officials.

With growing hardship among the common people and rampant factionalism in court, chaos reigned under the surface.

Ling Gurong had just ascended the throne, and trustworthy officials were still scarce.

For now, his grip on the court was weak, and many policies couldn’t yet be enacted.

At the teahouse, the scholars were currently debating tax policy.

The Emperor was considering a reform of the tax laws.

The issue was a hot topic both in and out of court. Public bulletin boards in Yingtian Prefecture were even displaying notices inviting people to submit their thoughts. Suggestion boxes had been set up—but very few dared to contribute.

Ling Gurong and Fei Yan sat on the second floor, disguised as middle-aged men.

Fei Yan poured tea for the emperor.
“The one speaking now is Lu Fanyi of the Lu family in Hangzhou.”

The Lu family represented the aristocratic scholar class. This meant Lu Fanyi was likely speaking on behalf of that group’s interests.

Ling Gurong’s gaze was cool as it fell on Lu Fanyi, who stood at the center of the debate.

Lu Fanyi had proposed a labor tax.

“Sounds somewhat practical,” Fei Yan commented coolly, sipping his tea.

Ling Gurong listened silently, making no comment.

At the next table sat two women.

One wore a red veil and face covering, completely hiding her appearance—this was Tang Chaoyang.

The woman in the black veil beside her was her maid, Liu’er.

It wasn’t uncommon for women to attend these debates at the teahouse, so their presence didn’t raise eyebrows.

But Tang Chaoyang hadn’t come to listen to debates—she was here for Lu Fanyi, the very man on stage.

In her previous life, she had once treated Lady Lu for an illness and had learned that her only son, Lu Fanyi, would die of “true heart pain” not long after this debate.

“True heart pain” was an actual medical condition.

Liu’er whispered, “Miss, this labor tax sounds pretty good.”

Her opinion came from personal experience: her family had many mouths to feed and the tax burden was heavy. After paying taxes, they barely had enough food to survive.
One year a flood wiped out their crops, and they were forced to sell Liu’er to a human broker.

Tang Chaoyang’s gaze rested on Lu Fanyi.

This man was clearly holding back his true abilities.

The labor tax he proposed would allow those over fifteen to pay their population tax through physical labor—a way to reduce burdens on the poor.

Under Jin’s current tax law, there were two especially burdensome levies:

• A land tax on all cultivated acreage
• A population tax on all males over the age of fifteen

These two alone were already suffocating the common folk. And there were many other taxes besides.

With her chin resting on one hand, Tang Chaoyang replied in a voice she’d purposely altered to avoid being recognized.

“Regardless of how they change the tax laws, most commoners will still go hungry and cold. True reform will touch the interests of the noble families. That’s when it will matter.”

She didn’t elaborate further—after all, she wasn’t a court official.

Lu Fanyi’s proposal could only alleviate the people’s burden slightly.

Tang Chaoyang had spent twenty years traveling as a physician in her past life, and she’d seen how common people lived across the land.

The current Emperor was wise and capable. Once he consolidated power, broke the hold of the noble houses, and dismantled the gentry, his reforms would truly benefit the people.

Ling Gurong and Fei Yan both possessed martial skills, and from the neighboring table, they could hear every word the veiled woman said.

Her voice was hoarse, as if she were ill.

Still, they found her analysis insightful and realistic.

In truth, today’s debate on tax reform wasn’t particularly meaningful.

So far, none of the scholars had dared to address the core problem. They all knew it too well.

Ling Gurong glanced toward the veiled woman, who was sitting with her back to them. He couldn’t see her face or guess her identity.

But at least she had a brain.

Liu’er clung to one point in particular: “Miss, can we really solve the problem of hunger and warmth? That would be wonderful.”

“It can be solved. But we have to go now,” Tang Chaoyang said, noticing that Lu Fanyi had been called away.

She rose quickly, motioning for Liu’er to follow.

Ling Gurong and Fei Yan only caught the words “It can be solved” before she vanished.

Though intrigued, they weren’t especially concerned.

After all—who really believed a woman could truly solve the empire’s food crisis?

Fei Yan asked coldly, “Are you heading back?”

There was no more point in listening. Honestly, that veiled woman’s big talk was more interesting than the debate itself.