Chapter 9 Gifts
“What will become of her life?”
Since Zhan Qiyu turned fourteen, matchmakers had frequently visited. Scholars were common, but handsome, scholarly young men were rare.
Though she knew her neighbors well, she knew her son was decisive and would choose his own wife.
Since moving to town, matchmakers had already visited, proposing a girl from the Zhang family—well-off and smitten with Zhan Qiyu.
But knowing her son’s affections, she politely declined.
And a woman who cared so much for her son—no mother-in-law would dislike her.
The once-worried woman now had a constant smile. She had felt guilty for not giving her son a better life, but now, the clouds had parted.
Through a crack in the window, dark, deep eyes watched the courtyard’s joyful activities, feeling a sense of warmth and home.
He’d learned that to become invincible, one must have no weaknesses, but everyone has a soft spot; he was no exception.
He never considered himself a lover of flowers, but since that flower had caught his eye, he would protect it forever.
Two days later, persistent rain fell. A Liu and Zhan Qiyu, under oil-paper umbrellas, arrived at the inn. The innkeeper asked them to leave their umbrellas at the door to avoid wetting the floor.
Zhan Qiyu calmly left his umbrella, ensuring his qin was dry, before going upstairs.
A Liu glanced at the innkeeper and followed. He could easily teach the innkeeper a lesson but chose not to; not out of fear, but disdain.
Guan Zeyang opened a small window in his room, listening to the rain. He preferred rainy days; the wind and rain kept him grounded.
A knock came; he opened the door to see Zhan Qiyu, the first student.
The gentle scholar was slightly damp, except for the qin in his arms.
“Come in.”
He readily praised his students; he admired Zhan Qiyu’s courage in being the first to arrive.
Inside, Guan Zeyang asked him to choose Go or music; Zhan Qiyu chose Go.
They sat by the window; rain-soaked greenery struggled to stand tall.
Zhan Qiyu paused, courteously inviting Guan Zeyang to make the first move, showing no nervousness, like a seasoned player.
This composure was what Guan Zeyang wanted. Watching the black and white pieces, he realized Zhan Qiyu had little experience in actual games, yet each move paved the way for the next.
He was a calculating young man.
Guan Zeyang’s approval grew; though Zhan Qiyu lost badly, he decided to cultivate him.
A knock came—another student. Guan Zeyang asked him to play Go while Zhan Qiyu played music.
This tested his adaptability; court life wasn’t just about bookish ideals.
Zhan Qiyu calmly took out his qin, playing skillfully despite his inexperience. The slow but steady music complemented the rain.
The other student’s Go moves were chaotic but calmed by the music.
After the music, Zhan Qiyu put away his qin and left; Guan Zeyang continued playing Go without speaking.
Zhan Qiyu waited briefly and left, encountering a nervous student who, sensing his mood, didn’t ask questions.
A Liu followed silently; his young master’s steps were steady, unbothered by the outcome.
As they took their umbrellas, a servant said, “Master Guan asks you to come again the day after tomorrow.” The servant smiled, sensing his future success.
A Liu was excited; Zhan Qiyu carried his qin calmly, neither happy nor sad.
He wasn’t happy, but sensed Guan Zeyang wouldn’t be his only teacher; he needed more experience to become a capable official.
He knew his goal wasn’t just to be a loyal official; he wanted to stir up the imperial court.
A Liu didn’t see his young master’s ambition, only joy; the two girls were lucky stars; with such a teacher, the young master would surely rise.
Home, Zhan’s mother urged her son to eat, not asking about the apprenticeship.
She knew masters weren’t easy to please.
Three dishes and cornbread were their lunch; though life was better, she remained frugal.
Zhan Qiyu ate quietly; only A Liu hesitated to speak.
His young master was too composed.
Back in his room, he boasted to Zhan’s mother.
He then tried to tell Shan Cha but got no response.
Shan Cha was persuading Mu Yun, her second brother.
A sun-tanned young man glared at his sister, feeling betrayed.
“Jiaojiao, you’re going too far!”
Mu Jiaojiao, in a light purple dress, began to cry; her favorite brother yelled at her.
“Second Brother, I really need it.”
She wanted his travel journal manuscript. In her past life, Mu Yun hadn’t finished it before the Mu family’s downfall.
Guan Zeyang liked this type of manuscript; she wanted it as a gift for Zhan Qiyu.
She knew he cherished it but needed it too.
“Second Brother, I promise many will see your book,” she said.
Mu Yun didn’t believe her. “Sister, you’re wasting my hard work on strangers.”
Shan Cha shrugged; she didn’t understand but supported her mistress.
While they argued, Shan Cha secretly pocketed the manuscript and signaled her mistress before slipping away.
Mu Yun didn’t notice; he calmed down and said, “Sister, you’re of marrying age; you should settle down.”
He’d seen much and considered himself an adult.
But Mu Jiaojiao remembered her brother’s imprisonment by a merchant’s daughter and disagreed.
But the priority was Zhan Qiyu’s apprenticeship.
“Yes, Second Brother, I understand; I’ll go embroider.”
After she left, Mu Yun felt relieved, before realizing the manuscript was gone.
He went to tell his brother but found their mother scolding him and kept quiet.
He returned to his room, preparing to leave.
Home was too dangerous; the world suited him better.
Zhan Qiyu was surprised by the manuscript. His calm expression showed confusion. “What’s the meaning?”
Mu Jiaojiao proudly said, “It’s your gift; Master Guan will like it.”
He flipped through it. “Where did you get this?”
He liked Mu Jiaojiao but wouldn’t accept anything he didn’t deserve.
Zhan Qiyu didn’t fully understand the Mu family, but sensed Mu’s mother’s disdain.
Mu Jiaojiao didn’t lie. “It’s my second brother’s manuscript; it’s family; it’s alright.”
He understood it as them being family soon, so no need to worry.
They would be family someday, but it seemed premature.
Seeing his silence, Mu Jiaojiao pouted.
He swallowed. “Fine, I’ll do as you say,” his voice husky.
Mu Jiaojiao didn’t understand; her past experiences involved only unwanted advances in the palace.
Her innocence was captivating.
Not only to the scholar, but also to a powerful figure in the capital.
Zhan Qiyu carefully copied the manuscript, correcting errors.
Mu Jiaojiao ground ink, their shadows merging under the lamplight.
He sensed Mu Yun’s effort; every detail reflected his experience.
The girl yawned; her eyes welled up.
Zhan Qiyu avoided her gaze, his heart pounding.
He dismissed her.
Mu Jiaojiao smiled, assuming there was enough ink, and left; she wasn’t wearing men’s clothes anymore.
Happy, she returned to Mu’s.
Everything was going smoothly; once he became an apprentice, one thing remained.
Securing his beloved.
She’d learned about Chen Xing’er, her cousin.
Chen Xing’er’s family was a wealthy merchant, renting out carriages.
Wealthier than Zhan’s family.
She was an only daughter.
Her palace selection was in a little over half a month; she needed to secure the marriage; otherwise, she couldn’t rest easy.
She gathered her jewelry and fabric for the betrothal gifts.
Shan Cha asked, “Miss, don’t we need to do this much?”
Mu Jiaojiao hummed, mysteriously. “You don’t understand; it’s returning kindness.”
She owed him a lifetime; any repayment wasn’t enough.
As long as Zhan Qiyu lived the life he wanted, even if she followed her original path, it was okay.
She focused on changing others’ lives, not her own.
She didn’t want to, or couldn’t.
Leaning against a window, she twirled her hair, looking troubled.
Back in the palace, she’d likely face palace intrigues; people were abnormal there; not fighting meant death.
She had indirectly harmed others; the feeling of blood on her hands was unforgettable.
And Shan Cha, while dying, comforted her: “Miss, it doesn’t hurt. What will you do alone? I don’t want you to be alone.”
From that day on, Mu Jiaojiao felt life was meaningless; she counted the days until the emperor died.
She didn’t want to relive the past. Looking at the stars, tears fell.
“Miss, why are you crying?”
Shan Cha wiped her tears, but Mu Jiaojiao cried harder.
The girl wanted a new life but didn’t know how to change.