Chapter 20: Reading the Ledgers and Making Plans

Lin Qinshuang was not permitted to pay New Year visits; she leisurely ate breakfast in her courtyard, Lin Qige, her belly swollen with child.

“I wonder if this one will be a boy or a girl—better if it’s a boy, one who will overshadow the Weirui Pavilion.”

“Madam, rest easy—I’m certain nine out of ten this child is a boy,” said the maid beside her, flatteringly.

“You’re thoughtful—I’ll ask the Master to promote you soon, make you my personal maid-mother.”

“Xue Niang thanks Lady.”

Lin Qinshuang heard the title but made no correction, quietly tending to the rare green plants before her.

9 a.m.

Shou’an Hall,

Concubine Wei Shuyi stood behind Lady Wang, whose belly was not as large as Lin Qinshuang’s, yet she instinctively cradled it—clearly, she too was with child.

During the New Year, the descendants of Sheng Hong’s subordinates in Quanzhou’s officialdom would come to pay their respects to their superior.

Some descendants of noble and imperial clans, who had ties with Yongyi Marquis House and lived nearby, would also come to pay New Year respects at the old lady’s courtyard.

After a long morning of exertion, the old lady finally had a moment’s rest.

“The New Year visits are done; I’m tired. You may all return.”

Sheng’s old lady waved to Sheng Hong and his wife in the hall, then returned to the inner chamber under the support of Fang Mama.

Hua Lan, attentive as ever, followed the old lady inside.

Since the incident with Lin Qinshuang, the old lady had taken to quiet Buddhist devotion; except for Hua Lan’s meals, she ate only vegetarian fare and chanted sutras.

Only the festive atmosphere made Shou’an Hall lively; otherwise, it was always desolate.

Perhaps due to her surroundings, the fifty-something old lady looked more like a woman in her sixties.

Looking at Hua Lan, who had grown increasingly beautiful and poised before her, the old lady’s eyes filled with tenderness.

“Hua’er, come—starting today, I’ll teach you to read the household accounts. Suqin, bring the household ledgers from the past few years.”

“Yes,” replied Fang Mama beside her.

“Ruan’an, pay attention to Quanzhou’s specialties over this period, select a few fine items, pack them, and send them to Bianjing—not to Jiyin Alley, but to the Marquis House on Quyuanjie. The Emperor’s grand birthday is near; we must not let the Marquis House lose face.”

“Also, prepare silver to send to the elders in Bianjing.”

The middle-aged maid beside her responded, “Yes.”

“Hua’er, look first—if you don’t understand, ask me.”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

Bianjing, Quyuanjie

With the families of Xu Minghua’s northern subordinates coming to pay New Year visits, the Marquis House was once again lively.

In the afternoon, Xu Zaijing, the Marquis House’s eldest legitimate son, led four servants, followed by a cart laden with goods.

The cart carried coal, rice, flour, and meat.

He was there to visit the descendants of the Yongyi Marquis House’s personal guards on behalf of his father.

In past generations, the Yongyi Marquis House fought on battlefields, and many personal guards died protecting successive Marquises; among their descendants, numerous orphans and widows were settled in the capital by the Marquis for easier care.

Those descendants who were clever, studious, and well-connected became servants or stewards in the household.

Some continued to join the military and risk their lives,

others ran small businesses in the capital,

some worked the fields in the Marquis House’s nearby estates.

Some perished without heirs.

Those who became servants or stewards mostly followed the Yongyi Marquis’s only daughter as her dowry into the Sheng household, and thus never lacked food or drink.

Those who remained in the capital still came to pay thanks during festivals, out of gratitude for the Marquis House’s gifts—this helped maintain the bond with their ancestral patrons.

Amid the bustle, Xu Zaijing was thinking of other things; daily, he accompanied Sun Shi and often overheard conversations at Ningyuan Marquis House and Yongchang Count House, learning the Emperor’s grand birthday was approaching.

If he could present a gift the Emperor would truly appreciate, and please him, perhaps he might receive rewards—like Gu Er, who had been granted an imperial golden spear.

Even without a reward, a thoughtful gift could make the Emperor remember your favor, helping the family elders and clan members advance more smoothly in their official careers.

So the next morning, while practicing martial arts with the Marquis House’s stablehand, Xu Zaijing was distracted.

The stablehand quickly noticed Xu Zaijing’s state; limping behind him, he swung his staff and struck Xu Zaijing’s buttocks.

“If you can’t focus on training, you might as well stand aside,” the stablehand rasped.

“Yes, Master, I’m sorry,” Xu Zaijing immediately refocused and began practicing spear techniques with full concentration.

After Xu Zaijing finished his spear practice and stood in the open field practicing bow and crossbow, the stablehand, while feeding his horse, asked: “What were you thinking about just now? In all the time I’ve trained you, I’ve never seen you distracted.”

“Master, I was thinking about what gift to present to His Majesty for his birthday.”

“Oh? You’re a loyal subject indeed.”

“I only wish to give His Majesty a gift he’ll cherish, to help my father’s official career.”

“Hmm, a filial son as well.”

“I also wish to leave an impression on His Majesty, to build my own future leverage.”

“Hmph, that’s the honest truth.”

“Master, you’re clearly skilled—do you have any ideas?”

Xu Zaijing’s limping master patted Ma Er’s head, then walked beside Xu Zaijing and glanced at the distant target.

“You ride your mount well and shoot with such precision—given your youth, you yourself are a lucky omen, a fine enough birthday gift.”

“Really, Master?”

“Of course it’s true. Lately I’ve noticed your strength has increased greatly—you’re ready for a heavier hunting bow.”

“Tomorrow I’ll find you a few good bows; pick one and train with it. Time is short—just master aiming exactly where you shoot, and that’s enough.”

Hearing his master’s words, Xu Zaijing had a sudden flash of insight—he recalled something he’d seen in videos from his past life.

He then said: “Master, beyond hitting the target, what if, after shooting one target, it triggers a mechanism to drop or launch another object, and I shoot that one too? Wouldn’t that be better?”

“That’s a clever idea—but too difficult. I don’t recommend you train for it.”

The stablehand paused, then continued: “The timing of falling objects is too brief. If your arrow is too slow, even with anticipation, you’ll miss.”

“Master, if I can master such a difficult skill, won’t it be even more useful on the battlefield as the Marquis House’s third son?”

“Fine, do as you wish.”

“Thank you, Master!”

After Xu Zaijing spoke, his master said nothing, gazed at his nephew Gao Yun in the distance, thought for a moment, then waved him over: “Go to the training ground and bring me a shield.”

“Yes.”

“Master, what are you doing?”

“Since you’re determined for the battlefield, you must train a personal bodyguard. From now on, when you practice archery, Gao Yun must stand before the target!”

Xu Zaijing: “Huh?”

Inside, he thought: Is this man’s thinking really that advanced?

Isn’t this modern trust shooting?

Where a comrade stands beside the target while the shooter fires at it;

Or, hundreds of meters away, hiding inside a plastic target dummy’s armpit, pretending to be held hostage, letting the shooter aim at the dummy’s head.

This trains not only the psychological resilience of the person being shot at, but also the shooter’s.

The method is advanced, but the goal is the same.

If a personal bodyguard fears arrows, how can he protect his lord?

Then he reconsidered: perhaps ancients had less exposure,

but they were never foolish or stupid—if they were, they’d have been wiped out by natural disasters and human calamities long ago.

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(End of Chapter)