Psst! We're moving!
Time flies like an arrow; in the blink of an eye, three years had passed. It was now the autumn of the sixteenth year of Qinghua.
The ninth month, anciently known as Sangluo, marked Qi Ying’s birthday on its seventh day.
Born into the prestigious Qi family lineage, Qi Ying had always been a man of high status. After Zhang Heng, the former chief of the Ministry of Military Affairs, was transferred last year, Qi Ying assumed his position, becoming the youngest official in the history of Liang to hold the second-highest rank at just twenty-four years old.
Despite his youth and immense power, no one in the court dared criticize him. Over the past three years, the southern and northern borders had seen frequent warfare. Under Qi Ying’s leadership, however, the Great Liang rarely suffered defeats. Though battles were won and lost, they never again faced the devastating losses of previous years when several counties fell in succession. People praised Qi Ying for his strategic foresight and decisive ability, admiring him without reservation.
With the birthday of the Chief Secretary approaching, officials naturally rushed to offer their congratulations. Despite the Qi family’s reluctance to host a grand celebration, they couldn’t resist the collective enthusiasm and opened their ancestral home to host a lavish banquet on the evening of the seventh day.
Such events naturally fell under the purview of Lady Yao. However, her temperament leaned toward laziness, and she had little interest in managing household affairs. Now older, she increasingly delegated responsibilities to her eldest daughter-in-law, Han Ruohui, grooming her to eventually take over the reins of the household. Thus, this banquet was jointly organized by both women, with Han Ruohui taking the lead.
Handling such an event for the first time, Han Ruohui naturally found herself overwhelmed.
It wasn’t an easy task—countless officials sought to curry favor with Qi Ying. Yet, the estate could only accommodate so many guests. Deciding who to invite and who to exclude required careful consideration. With hundreds of nobles and officials in Jiankang, meticulously reviewing each name exhausted her, forcing her to burn the midnight oil for several nights.
That night, Han Ruohui was at it again, poring over guest lists while simultaneously finalizing the menu for the seventh day’s feast. She was utterly overwhelmed.
Qi Yun, who had been reading on the bed, felt sorry for his wife’s tireless efforts. He got up, intending to help.
But his wife waved him off without looking up, saying, “I’ve been sorting through these registers for days and still haven’t made sense of them. Even if you step in now, it’s too late. Forget it, I’ll handle it myself.”
Having dismissed her husband, she noticed he remained standing beside her. Turning slightly, she saw his concerned expression, which softened her frustration. Smiling faintly, she said, “Well then, my lord, perhaps you could massage my shoulders? They’ve been aching since the other day.”
Qi Yun naturally obliged. He stood behind Han Ruohui, gently massaging her neck and shoulders.
This rare moment of solitude brought them closer. Comforted, Han Ruohui closed her eyes, hearing her husband whisper, “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends for days now. Is there something troubling you?”
She pursed her lips, shaking her head. Slightly complaining, she replied, “Nothing particularly troubling, just that there are too many people—it’s rather troublesome.”
Pausing briefly, she flipped through the guest list absentmindedly, glancing at Qi Yun. Her tone carried a hint of ambiguity as she remarked, “Jingchen’s birthday banquet is quite the spectacle, far surpassing yours. Remember your birthday some time ago? You didn’t receive such grandeur.”
Hearing this, Qi Yun hesitated, unsure how to respond.
His younger brother now held the position of Chief Secretary, a powerful second-rank official. In contrast, Qi Yun served as the Vice Secretary of the Imperial Secretariat, also a second-rank post but not wielding the same authority as Qi Ying. In times of war, the Ministry of Military Affairs naturally overshadowed the Imperial Secretariat, making Qi Ying’s influence more substantial.
Silent, he struggled to find words. Then, he heard Han Ruohui continue, “Traditionally, the eldest son inherits. A few years ago, everyone said Father intended to pass the family headship to you. Now, no one mentions it anymore. Perhaps they’ve all flocked to curry favor with your younger brother.”
Qi Yun’s hands paused momentarily as he murmured, “My lady worries too much…”
His tone lacked conviction, betraying uncertainty. Han Ruohui pressed on, “Times have changed. I know your gentle nature and how you’ve always cared for your brothers. But if Father truly chooses Jingchen, do you honestly harbor no resentment?”
After pondering her question, Qi Yun’s heart remained calm. He understood the current situation well. His younger brother, holding significant power and favored by their father, would naturally inherit the family headship if born as the eldest son. Qi Yun acknowledged his own abilities paled in comparison but remained indifferent to titles, never envying Qi Ying.
He viewed him as his brother, someone he needed to support. As the eldest son and elder brother, others might speculate about their relationship, but Qi Yun harbored no ulterior motives. More than the headship, he valued the family’s prosperity. Knowing Qi Ying’s immense talent, he believed his brother could ensure the family’s enduring success. If Father chose Jingchen, he would willingly support him without hesitation.
What concerned him was whether Ruohui would feel uncomfortable.
As the eldest daughter of the Han family, part of the reason she married him was due to his status as the eldest son. If he didn’t inherit the headship, the Hans might voice discontent, potentially causing Ruohui distress.
He cared not for the title but for the happiness of those around him.
Through the bronze mirror on the desk, Han Ruohui observed her husband’s serene yet compassionate expression, understanding his thoughts.
Having grown up together and married for years, they knew each other intimately. Qi Yun’s mild and yielding nature extended to his very core. She loved him for his integrity and detachment.
Sighing softly, Han Ruohui met his gaze through the mirror, smiling faintly. “Enough of this. If you harbor no ill feelings, why should I dwell on it? I’m merely frustrated from organizing this banquet. These complaints aren’t heartfelt.”
Seeing her genuine smile, Qi Yun breathed a sigh of relief, redoubling his efforts to massage her shoulders. Chuckling, he said, “Yes, yes, my lady is magnanimous. Once this is over, we must have Jingchen thank his sister-in-law properly for her hard work.”
Han Ruohui wrinkled her nose, dismissing his comment. Changing her posture, she pushed him away, saying, “Enough, go rest. Don’t bother me.”
Qi Yun refused to leave, pulling a chair beside her and holding a lamp to illuminate her work. Together, they spent the night.
________________________________________
By the seventh day, the Qi estate gates were thrown open, welcoming numerous distinguished guests nearly trampling the threshold. Nobles arrived continuously, each bearing rare treasures—both to honor Qi Ying, the rising star in the court, and to curry favor with Prime Minister Qi Zhang.
In the sixteenth year of Qinghua, Qi Zhang, aged fifty-four, though still serving as Chancellor, had loosened his grip on political affairs compared to previous years.
People found this entirely natural. After all, Lord Qi had two exceptional sons who could easily take over, allowing him to retire gracefully. The eldest son steadily advanced in the Imperial Secretariat, while the younger dominated the Ministry of Military Affairs. The Qi family had reached unparalleled heights, leaving Lord Qi with nothing to worry about.
Confident in the family’s strength, guests marveled at the Chancellor’s imposing presence. Seated in the main hall, his silence commanded respect, instilling awe among the attendees.
However, shifting their attention, guests noticed the other two young masters of the Qi family: Third Master Qi Ning and Fourth Master Qi Le.
These two illegitimate sons paled in comparison to their elder brothers. Qi Le, seventeen, barely passed the provincial examination last year, earning the title of “Juren.” Qi Ning, nineteen, hadn’t even attempted the exam, let alone approached the metropolitan level, despite being personally tutored by the esteemed Mr. Wang Qing for years.
Observing this, guests felt somewhat reassured. Even the fertile grounds of the Qi family produced a few weeds. Their own descendants weren’t entirely incompetent, merely overshadowed by Qi Yun and Qi Ying…
Reassured, they scanned the room again, noticing various members of the Qi clan—but notably absent was the guest of honor: Qi Ying, for reasons unknown, hadn’t yet appeared.
This panicked the guests.
They had fought tooth and nail to attend, spending lavishly on rare gifts to impress the rising star and secure his favor. If the main guest didn’t show, wouldn’t their efforts be wasted?
Anxiously whispering amongst themselves, they learned that Qi Ying had been summoned to the palace and was likely still in the emperor’s study, delayed.
Emperor Liang’s health had deteriorated in recent years. Though he once considered quitting elixirs, he resumed using them more fervently, worsening his condition. Officials publicly wished him longevity but privately calculated his remaining days, believing they wouldn’t be many.
Why did this half-dead emperor drag young Qi Ying into discussions of state affairs? Jiankang’s nobility anxiously awaited Qi Ying’s return, feigning smiles while covertly glancing toward the gate.
Perhaps their prayers moved heaven, for midway through the banquet, Qi Ying finally arrived.
First came the sound of carriage wheels and jingling bells, prompting guests to crane their necks. There, stepping gracefully into the estate, was Qi Ying, the illustrious Chief Secretary of the Ministry of Military Affairs, now holding the second-highest rank.
At twenty-four, Qi Jingchen was markedly different from three years prior.
Crowned at a young age, he quickly rose to prominence, reaching the fourth rank. While dazzling then, traces of youth lingered. Now, three years later, his demeanor exuded stability. The scholarly air had faded, replaced by the profound gravitas of prolonged power. His striking phoenix-like eyes masked his thoughts completely, impenetrable to outsiders.
________________________________________
Author’s Note:
I unilaterally declare that “X years later” is the most satisfying phrase in Chinese, truly exhilarating.
P.S.: To address angels’ questions about the number of volumes: excluding the epilogue, there are two main volumes left (three and four), with volume five being a shorter conclusion and volume six as extras. Word count will definitely not exceed a million (flag planted). I estimate around 700,000 words…? [If this flag falls, I’ll delete this note later.]