Chapter 222: Zhao Yong

That evening, after Zhang Zhongrui finished washing up, he was served by a maid and returned to his small bed to sleep.

He pulled the quilt over his body, stared with his large, round eyes, and recalled everything that had happened during the day.

For some reason, he always felt uncomfortable.

Why didn't Father like him?

It seemed Father had never treated him the way he treated his older sister.

As he thought and thought, in a daze, the bedroom door was opened by someone.

A figure, both strange and familiar, walked in from outside. Zhang Zhongrui instantly scrambled out from under the quilt and knelt straight up on the bed: "Your child greets Father."

Having said that, he made a move to get off the bed.

Zhang Yunxiu waved his hand, signaling him to sit back on the bed.

He scanned his son from head to toe, and seeing the precociousness in his son's eyes, Zhang Yunxiu felt a tug at his heart and could not help but feel a deep sense of guilt; a child of this age—

—should have been at an innocent, carefree age.

Yet he had been forcibly pushed into this state by those feudal rites and laws.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm his mood, Zhang Yunxiu pulled over a stool and sat down in front of the bed: "I heard from your mother that you are to begin your enlightenment education in a few days? I want to know, is this your idea, or your mother's idea?"

Zhang Zhongrui was stunned.

He opened his mouth to say it was his own idea, but upon seeing his father's gaze, he was afraid of saying the wrong thing, so he became anxious, his cheeks turning red as he rubbed his small hands, not knowing what to say.

"Say whatever you are thinking."

"It—it is Mother's idea."

Zhang Zhongrui stole a glance at his father, hanging his head as he spoke timidly.

"Then do you want to go?"

"No."

"If you don't want to, then don't go."

"Really?!" Zhang Zhongrui suddenly raised his head, his face full of excitement and agitation, but then feeling it was inappropriate, he hurriedly tried to make amends: "Father, I, I didn't mean that, I will go, I want to go."

"Are you very afraid of me?" Zhang Yunxiu asked with a warm smile.

Zhang Zhongrui nodded, then shook his head, his expression stiff.

He did not know why, but while he could handle other adults with ease, the moment he saw his father, he could not stop his body from trembling.

Seeing this scene, Zhang Yunxiu shook his head with a bitter smile.

He slowly took a small sandalwood box from his bosom, then slowly opened it to reveal a delicately crafted writing brush lying flat inside.

Gently handing it to his son, Zhang Yunxiu said softly: "This is for you. Your grandfather gave this to me back then; I have never been able to bear using it. You must keep it safe for me."

Zhang Zhongrui took it with trembling hands as if he had obtained a great treasure, and hurriedly knelt on the edge of the bed to thank him: "Thank you, Father!"

"Between father and son, there is no need for such polite formalities."

"Yes."

Zhang Zhongrui replied respectfully.

Watching his son's rigid, rule-following demeanor, Zhang Yunxiu wanted to say something, but did not know what to say: "Well, get some sleep early. As for the enlightenment education, if you don't want to go, I will go tell your mother."

Having said that, he turned and left.

On the bed, Zhang Zhongrui kept his head hung low, and only dared to lift it once his father had walked far away. Looking at the writing brush his grandfather had gifted him, a brilliant smile appeared on his youthful face.

Ever since he was born, he had been told—

—that his grandfather was a great hero, but it was a pity he was too young then and had never met his grandfather. Being able to receive an item bestowed by his grandfather today, Zhang Zhongrui was overjoyed, his heart feeling as if he had eaten honey.

He closed the small box, placed it to the side, then rolled twice on the bed before hugging the box with excitement and drifting off to sleep. On the other side.

Zhang Yunxiu returned to the bedroom. The lamp was still lit, and Xu Ruoxi was leaning against the head of the bed, flipping through a book in her hands.

As soon as she saw Zhang Yunxiu enter, Xu Ruoxi closed the book and asked hurriedly: "How was it?"

"Not bad, I gave the item to him," Zhang Yunxiu said, removing his clothes, blowing out the candle, and climbing onto the bed.

Xu Ruoxi nudged her body into her husband's embrace, her face overflowing with happiness as she said: "That's wonderful. Husband, I really want to watch Rui'er grow up quickly, pass the imperial examinations, and then marry and have children."

"People aren't crops; they don't just grow because you say so," Zhang Yunxiu muttered.

Xu Ruoxi did not pick up on that, but smiled faintly and steered the conversation toward Zhang Yunxiu: "Husband, now that things in Songjiang Prefecture are on the right track, the fleets you sent out are returning one after another.

Shouldn't you consider settling down and properly thinking about your own affairs?"

"What affairs of mine?" Zhang Yunxiu asked.

"You insist on not staying in the Hanlin Academy where you belong, and instead run off to the Ministry of Works to be a Director, dealing with those Artisans all day long," Xu Ruoxi said with a look of displeasure, wrinkling her delicate nose as she voiced her inner dissatisfaction. "You could have just stayed in the Hanlin Academy and moved up, yet you insist on making such a mess of things."

Zhang Yunxiu was speechless.

A Director in the Ministry of Works was a rank 5b official; although the rank was not high, he was effectively the foreman in charge of the entire country. With countless engineering teams and Artisans under his command, such a position had great financial prospects.

Xu Ruoxi did not care about financial prospects; as a woman, she only knew that this job was not prestigious enough. It would not be easy to get promoted in the future, and for the sake of her husband's career and her son's future—

—she had to persuade her husband.

"Husband, you have been a Director in the Ministry of Works for three years now; it is time to move to a new position."

"Move where?"

"I heard from Shen Yongmao's wife that an Assistant Censor-in-Chief in the Censorate is about to retire. Husband, both your qualifications and your status are sufficient to fill the role."

An Assistant Censor-in-Chief was a rank 4a official.

From rank 5b to rank 4a.

Although it was only a one-rank leap, it was like a natural chasm, separating countless people. According to the Great Ming system, only officials of rank 4 and above could wear scarlet robes.

Within the Six Ministries—

—the Minister was rank 2, the Vice Minister was rank 3, and the Directors below them were directly rank 5; there were no rank 4 officials.

Therefore, such a rank 4 official with real power was considered a hot commodity in the eyes of everyone in Beijing.

"You are quite greedy; there is no telling how many people are eyeing this position." Zhang Yunxiu gently patted his lovely wife's lotus-like arm.

"It is clearly your own affair, so how did it become me being greedy?" Xu Ruoxi suddenly propped herself up, her face full of displeasure, "It makes it sound as if I am the one going to serve as this official."

Zhang Yunxiu knew he had spoken out of turn, so he lightly tapped his lips twice, attempting to soothe her mood. Then, he murmured to himself: "How big must an official position be to truly be called 'big'?"

Listen to the tone behind the words.

Ruoxi heard that her husband seemed somewhat weary of the officialdom, and remembering him running here and there, her heart ached.

She slowly lowered her body, once again pressing her delicate frame against her husband's chest, and hummed obediently: "If you are tired, just tell me, and I will keep you company to relieve your boredom."

Zhang Yunxiu nodded, effectively agreeing to it.

The two held each other tightly, feeling the scent and warmth radiating from each other's bodies, and fell into a deep sleep.

Early the next morning.

Zhang Yunxiu climbed out of bed, put on his clothes, and hurriedly washed up. Arriving at the small parlor to sit down, at this moment, Han San led a youth who had already grown up, walking with long strides into the inner hall.

"Zhao Yong pays his respects to Mr. Zhang."

(End of this chapter)