Chapter 17

On this day, Zhe He, after Scholar Huang had seen off his esteemed son-in-law at the screen wall, reluctantly returned to his study to resume his diligent work.

Just as Jian Xun was about to cross the threshold of the Huang residence, a young maid’s voice called out from behind, “Young Master Jian, please wait.”

It was Liu’er, the maid attending Mei Niang, and to her right stood Amber, her expression complex and unreadable.

Liu’er was shorter than Jian Xun’s chest, slender and small, and given her tender age, she would never dare speak so boldly to such a tall young gentleman if not ordered by the Second Miss.

With both hands, she presented a wooden box adorned with plum blossoms and timidly said, “Second Miss instructed us to wait here for you. These are plum cakes and five-nut cakes she made herself, just freshly baked not long ago.”

Jian Xun nodded and, with a smile, happily accepted the box. From his sleeve, he produced two small silver coins, each worth three qian, and handed them to Amber and Liu’er respectively. “Young Master rewards you for buying sweets.”

Liu’er was overjoyed, clutching the coins with both hands, suddenly realizing there was a benefit to running errands for nobles—she could actually earn money.

Three qian silver coins exceeded her monthly allowance for three months.

She stammered a thank you and then quickly ran off, her timidity apparent.

Amber, however, remained composed. She bowed politely, thanked him, and added, “Our young mistress has always appreciated your noble spirit. If the cakes please your palate, next time, simply send someone to collect them directly.”

Jian Xun asked, “Why didn’t she come herself?”

Amber smiled gently, “Young Master jokes. Though we are a humble household, our young mistress’s manners are impeccable. It would be improper for her to visit personally, as it would breach etiquette and inconvenience you.”

Amber was indeed a maid of insight. Jian Xun’s gaze grew slightly colder. “Are you implying something?”

Amber’s heart tightened. Clenching her fists discreetly, she lowered her eyes and said, “From now on, I will accompany the young mistress constantly. The many previous inconveniences will be resolved, so there’s no need to trouble your household’s carriage anymore.”

After all, any carriage belonging to his family was forbidden to be used again—too many accidents could happen.

Jian Xun said icily, “Did she send you to say this, or did you persuade her to?”

Amber faltered, her face paling slightly. “I dare not. Besides, these are lessons any well-bred young lady should understand. Our Second Miss has grown sensible.”

Jian Xun neither confirmed nor denied. With a wave of his sleeve, he left, riding off with the glow of the setting sun.

Fuxi, clutching the box, dared not even breathe heavily. She glanced at Amber and hastened to follow the young master’s footsteps.

The words “breaking off the engagement” had barely been spoken by Huang Shiyu when his father approved without hesitation, effortlessly so. More astonishingly, Madam Huang had never once come forward to reproach him.

She had even prepared herself in advance to receive scolding and reproach.

Yet Madam Huang remained indifferent...

That was an engagement worth a thousand taels of silver.

Huang Shiyu’s heart pounded wildly, utterly bewildered.

But no matter what, the elders had decisively taken his side, and such wholehearted protection warmed one’s heart deeply.

The very next morning, Uncle Du, under Scholar Huang’s orders, personally drove a mule cart to escort Huang Shiyu and Amber to visit Huang Yingzhi in Huai Shu Lane.

Huang Shiyu was overwhelmed by the favor and had no idea what Jian Xun had said to his father in the study. Overnight, the family seemed to be quietly changing, filled with warmth and affection.

The steward of Jian Family Manor delivered local specialties—seasonal fruits and vegetables—with the summer persimmons being the standout.

Zhe He’s mulberry leaves were boiled with spring water and a pinch of fine salt, then cooled. The summer persimmons were placed in a jar and soaked with this specially treated mulberry water, covering the jar’s neck for two days and nights. This process completely removed the natural astringency of the persimmons, making them extraordinarily fresh and crisp, sweet and cool as if biting into ice or chewing snow—a perfect summer refreshment.

In front of his mother, Jian Xun suddenly said, “Select two good baskets and send them to the teacher’s house.”

The servant promptly acknowledged.

Lady Jian turned her gaze toward him.

Jian Xun’s clear eyes were calm and sincere.

In recent years, the harvests from the various manors had been good. Just the hundreds of tangerine trees in Zhe He and the orchard in Taifeng could exchange for a hundred bolts of silk and nearly a thousand taels of silver. Along with other yields, the shops in the capital brought in at least twenty thousand taels a year, despite the Jian family’s decline.

Without such wealth, Lady Jian would not have dared to maintain their residence in the capital until now.

Yet she knew this family estate could not be preserved forever unless they left the capital with half their holdings or Jian Xun could establish himself.

Lady Jian said, “Your maternal family is also in decline. Only the An Guo Duke’s mansion plaque remains a support for us. Tomorrow you will set out for the place you must visit every year. Perhaps you understand better than I do. Besides fulfilling your filial duties to your great-grandfather, your mother hopes you will maintain gentleness and humility, never striving to be the strongest.”

Scholars often belittle one another yet are proud of their talents; Jian Xun was still young.

He solemnly accepted her teaching. “The strong perish by their strength; the rigid break like wood. Strength lies in yielding, weakness in rising. I will remember Mother’s teachings.”

Lady Cheng nodded slowly.

Without the An Guo Duke’s mansion, this vast estate would likely be devoured before a widow and orphan could leave the capital.

As the money increased, one must become ever more cautious.

Jian Xun understood his mother’s meaning and repeatedly promised to act discreetly.

This year’s offerings to his great-grandfather included a hundred bolts of fine silk, five thousand taels of silver, and various local specialties.

The An Guo Duke’s mansion was deeply appreciative.

The ancestors of the Jian clan from Zhe He—Jian Xun’s grandfather was the younger brother of the An Guo Duke, though unlearned in poetry and books, skilled in household management—had amassed countless riches and produced a successful imperial scholar son. That son, in turn, fathered Jian Xun. If this continued, within thirty years, the branch of the Jian family might rival the An Guo Duke’s mansion in Jinping.

Yet fate is unpredictable. This line’s male heirs suffered untimely deaths from various accidents, until only Jian Xun’s family remained—and now only Jian Xun himself.

For this reason, Lady Jian employed two skilled warriors as attendants and several capable guards. They forced Jian Xun to train in martial arts from a young age, fearing further mishaps.

Before leaving Zhe He, Jian Xun pushed open the window of the swiftly moving carriage and looked toward the Huang household.

As a husband, he ought to bid farewell to Mei Niang, speak a few words, and clarify some matters left unsettled.

After all, this was his first time as a husband—there would inevitably be many oversights. Yet he suddenly thought she did not even know he was her husband, and explaining it would be complicated. Perhaps it was better to let things be. Affection grows through time spent together, after all, and she was not difficult to placate.

If in the future she stubbornly refused, he might force her—or let her go.

Letting her go would only mean watching her be casually married off by Madam Huang to someone like Pei Sheng.

No other man would be as patient as he was. A willful girl like her could suffer many losses.

Only after suffering great losses would she understand his kindness.

But he did not want her to suffer.

That summer, although the rains were abundant, they brought little relief. When the sun came out, the heat felt even more intense than in previous years.

The women of the Huang household hardly ventured outside unless necessary, each retreating to the backyard to wear waistbands or strapless vests to cool themselves.

The courtyard’s phoenix and elm trees were lush and leafy, casting broad shade. Huang Shiyu, dressed in a lotus-colored strapless vest, fanned herself with a gauze fan while reciting poetry.

The girl’s youth was flourishing wildly this summer. Huang Shiyu vaguely sensed she had gained considerable weight—she had shown signs before, but now the waistband of her vest was tightly pressing against her chest.

Amber made her three brand-new little garments, washed and dried them, and brought them with a smile. “Second Miss hasn’t grown fat, just grown up. She’s becoming a young lady.”

The new strapless vest no longer constricted her chest, and Huang Shiyu breathed deeply with comfort.

Amber was momentarily lost in thought. The Second Miss was growing so fast—her slender, pale back bound only by two red silk ribbons resembled a jade pipa, exquisitely shaped. Even other girls blushed upon seeing her.

Such a beautiful Second Miss—could she possibly escape the clutches of the Jian family’s young master? Amber felt a sorrowful kinship.

By the first day of the month, nearing the hour of Shen, the grand gates of the An Guo Duke’s mansion in the capital stood imposing with two large stone lions. A few gatekeepers sat chatting on benches, but upon seeing Jian Xun’s carriage, they promptly sprang from the eaves to greet him, while a younger attendant ran off to announce his arrival.

Soon, Uncle Liao led a group of boys around ten years old to meet him, orderly and well-behaved. The steward Wang Gui also arrived smiling, escorting Jian Xun to pay respects to the Duke.

The Duke’s mansion was vast. From the main gate to the Duke’s private garden, one had to walk a long distance. Thus, they all mounted horses, passing through two groves before stopping near the double-story gallery, then dismounting and proceeding on foot.

The double-story gallery, also called the upper corridor, was built to allow the masters to enjoy the garden views from different heights. Standing beneath the red railings on the second floor were several delicate young girls. Upon seeing Jian Xun, they whispered and giggled behind their sleeves. The boldest cousins even waved at him.

Jian Xun smiled.

These girls were his cousins—some paternal, some maternal—and they always hid by the gallery or the rockery to peek at him.

At first, he did not understand why the girls always watched him, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

Growing older, he understood and gradually became more at ease.

They meant no harm, only innocent curiosity.

The Duke’s garden was renowned; even princes had heard of it and stayed there specially.

The garden was mainly composed of rock formations, especially Taihu tribute stones in nearly a hundred shapes, winding and elegant, solemn and upright, as if relocating mountains and rivers into the garden.

Even the Duke’s study contained bonsai stones and occasional boxwood, called the “study mountain,” with natural springs led inside, creating a miniature mountain scene. Viewed from afar, it seemed like a delicate line of light emerging from peaks.

A great recluse hidden within the bustling city—none could better.

Such a lavish garden that enchanted men utterly belonged not only to the An Guo Duke but also to the successive heads of the Langya Jian family.

Uncle Liao drew the bat-patterned brocade curtain with a smile and said, “Young Master, please watch your step.”

Jian Xun nodded and stepped inside. Four young relatives—boys and young men—already in the study greeted him with slight nods and exchanged brief greetings.

His arrival was like amplifying the clear light of the study mountain. Backlit by the setting sun’s afterglow, he appeared refined and elegant, naturally drawing all attention.

This boy was indeed strikingly handsome, befitting the name Yunzhuang, meaning “jade tablet,” bestowed by the Prefect of Baotianfu. The An Guo Duke cast a faint glance at Jian Xun.

“Your great-grandnephew pays respects to Great-Grandfather. May you be healthy, safe, and blessed with longevity,” Jian Xun bowed deeply with cupped hands.

The An Guo Duke acknowledged with a grunt, “Please, all sit.”

The younger generation bowed in thanks and sat respectfully on official hat chairs on either side, ready to receive instruction.

These five young men were carefully selected by the Duke as the most promising descendants.