Chapter 41
Chapter 41: More Burdens?
I’ll Slack Off and Show You!
That night, Gu Nan Xi slept miserably.
In her dream, a round little ball blocked her path, yelling at her like an overseer, “Kind mother! Go be a kind mother! Cook and wash and work!”
Behind her, the young emperor chased with a golden carrying pole hoisted high. “Sister! Please!”
It was terrifying.
Gu Nan Xi startled awake—and only then realized the bedding beneath her was damp.
“Madam! You’re finally awake!” Lu Mei rushed over with a cushion, propping it behind Gu Nan Xi’s back. She dabbed at Gu Nan Xi’s sweat with a handkerchief, her face full of worry. “The young lady came looking for you early this morning. When she saw you were still asleep, she went to the small kitchen to make your breakfast.”
Gu Nan Xi blinked, still caught between dream and waking.
Lu Mei’s voice softened. “Why are you sweating like this? You must be worn out. Sigh—even if you had a glorious victory yesterday and held your head high in Capital, you’ve worked far too hard.”
Gu Nan Xi gave a helpless, bitter smile. “This counts as hard work? That Little Emperor wants me to work even harder.”
Lu Mei’s mouth tightened. “His Majesty truly doesn’t know how to cherish people. Your health is already poor—how can you withstand being tossed around like that?”
Gu Nan Xi nodded vigorously. Exactly.
She was nearly old enough to be holding a grandson, and he still wanted her to figure out how to deal with the Imperial Academy and Song Shan Academy?
She didn’t even know the Imperial Academy Director’s name!
“Mother, you’re awake at last.”
Su Yun Yan came in with a steaming bowl, the heat curling up around her face. “Brother went to the outskirts of Capital to look for medicine. Before he left, he told me to stew you a bowl of An Ge Li Ca black-chicken soup.”
“Young Lady, let me!” Lu Mei hurried forward and took it. “Your hands are delicate. Don’t scald yourself.”
Gu Nan Xi accepted the care without the slightest guilt—clothes when she reached, food when she opened her mouth, a dutiful daughter hovering at her side to fuss over her.
The soup was rich and sweet. It slid down her throat and warmed her belly, and she let out a satisfied sigh.
Even if she lived like this for another hundred years, she wouldn’t tire of it.
After washing up and eating, Gu Nan Xi looked lively again.
Lively… and determinedly slack.
Autumn slipped away amid noise and bustle. Overnight, the air turned sharp with winter.
“The wind changed its temperament in a single night,” Su Yun Yan complained, hugging her sleeves tighter. “It used to be a gentle breeze, and now it’s like it’s slapping people across the face. Mother, don’t go out today. I brought storybooks—lie on the couch and read.”
She had a servant haul in the account books and a stack of storybooks together. Under the same roof, Su Yun Yan bent over ledgers while Gu Nan Xi sprawled with her novels. Cozy, domestic, dangerously pleasant.
Gu Nan Xi flipped through the books, bored—and baffled. In the span of a month, the quality had dropped off a cliff.
One after another was the same tale: a scholar met a fox at night, got sponsored, went to Capital for the exams, entered the Imperial Academy or Song Shan Academy, and then became Top Scholar.
The “creative” ones were only slightly different: the scholar saved a beauty; the beauty was the daughter of an Imperial Academy Doctor; the scholar became the doctor’s disciple and then became Top Scholar.
Gu Nan Xi tossed the book aside, irritation pricking her skin. “Do these scholars have to enter the Imperial Academy or Song Shan Academy? If they don’t study there, they can’t become Top Scholar?”
Su Yun Yan snapped her abacus beads without lifting her head. “Seventh Brother counted. Over ten consecutive exam cycles, six Top Scholars came from the Imperial Academy and four from Song Shan Academy. As for Presented Scholars, there are even more.”
“So Seventh Brother plans to sit the autumn provincial exam next year too?”
“Of course.” Su Yun Yan’s answer came instantly. “Censor Jiang was a Third Laureate, and Seventh Brother grew up hearing and seeing it. Even in Song Shan Academy, his grades are at the top. It’s just Brother…” She sighed, brows knitting. “There’s no way to talk about him.”
“What’s wrong with your brother?”
Gu Nan Xi had finally found a rare storybook written from the heroine’s point of view—after sifting through an entire stack of scholar fantasies.
Su Yun Yan set down the abacus, worry clouding her eyes. “Brother made a grand declaration—he’s going to take the civil service exams and no one is allowed to disturb him. Mother, what is this? Back then you had to tie him up and force him to school, and he refused. Now he suddenly wants to work hard.”
Gu Nan Xi read until her face heated.
The book—Marchioness and the Men Behind Her—was written with such lingering, delicate detail that the bedroom scenes felt almost real.
So long as she didn’t compare it to herself, it was practically an heirloom.
“Let him do what he wants,” Gu Nan Xi said, barely looking up.
Then she had Lu Mei bring out a stack of banknotes and handed them to Su Yun Yan. “Studying costs money. Don’t use household funds to subsidize him.”
Su Yun Yan took the money carefully.
After she began managing the household, she’d learned what it cost to keep a place like Marquis Manor running. Marquis Yong Chang Residence only spent and never earned. Even with Mother’s rich dowry, how long could it last?
Someday Su Yun Yan would marry out. Someday daughters-in-law would enter. Mother needed silver put aside for herself. They couldn’t pour everything into this bottomless pit.
Su Yun Yan’s gaze flicked to Gu Nan Xi—smiling faintly at her book, eyes glittering, laughing under her breath.
Quietly, Su Yun Yan made a decision of her own.
Good days never lasted.
Gu Nan Xi hadn’t even finished the book. She’d just reached the part where the Marchioness wandered into a tavern and was mistaken for a songstress by a general—right before things were about to get improper—when Lu Mei rushed in.
“Madam, the Dragon-Martial Grand General has come to see you.”
Clang.
The book hit the floor, splaying open. The couplet on the page practically sizzled:
“Lantern light like auspicious snow slanted over her chest;
peach-blossom wine hazed her gaze, half-drunk.
If not for Xiang Ru taking pity on a refined guest,
how could Wen Jun be so easily seen?”
Gu Nan Xi went cold all over. She lunged forward, snapped the book shut, and shoved it under the bedding.
Then she froze—no, that still felt unsafe. In a burst of panic, she stuffed it into her collar instead, heart thundering like it wanted to burst free.
After Lu Mei helped smooth her hair and clothes, Gu Nan Xi walked toward the main hall with her pulse hammering.
A tall figure stood inside like a pine rooted in stone. His presence was so sharp, so forceful, it made the wide hall feel cramped.
Gu Nan Xi’s scalp prickled. Li Ao Tian… he wasn’t here about that staged-accident business, was he?
Her eyes snagged on the whip at his waist, and a chill ran down her spine as she remembered Li Shao Yan’s miserable state.
“General Li,” she asked, forcing her voice steady, “to what do I owe this visit?”
Whenever Gu Nan Xi was nervous, her face stiffened and her tone turned hard, like she was bracing for a fight.
Li Ao Tian arched a brow, his gaze cold and keen.
Without warning, he lifted his hand and flung something straight at her.
Gu Nan Xi’s heart lurched. A hidden weapon!
But her body was too slow—she couldn’t dodge in time.
The object slammed into her arms, jolting her ribs. She sucked in a sharp breath and looked down.
A small cuju ball, embroidered with a lion.
Li Ao Tian’s expression didn’t shift in the slightest. “By His Majesty’s order, I return what Madam cherishes to Madam.” His eyes remained flat as still water. “Does Madam have any words you want me to relay?”