Chapter 191

On the night of New Year's Eve, the New Year's banquet meticulously prepared by Wang Xifeng lost most of its festive atmosphere due to the matter of Jia Cong's biological mother being granted a posthumous title, leaving Jia Mu feeling an irrepressible resentment in her heart.

Regardless, everyone still had to celebrate the New Year, so the New Year's Eve banquet that night naturally had to proceed as usual.

Moreover, regarding the posthumous title granted to Jia Cong's late mother, Jia Mu felt humiliated and angry, Wang Lady was jealous that Jia Cong would thereby overshadow Baoyu, and Xing Lady could not bear to see this son of a prostitute and concubine become triumphant from now on.

As for the rest of the people in the Jia household, while some might harbor secret jealousy, there were truly few who felt hatred or resentment, as it ultimately had nothing to do with them.

People like Jia Zheng and Jia Zhen were happy to see it happen.

Jia Zheng was pleased because Jia Cong, whom he esteemed, was rising step by step, and since Jia Cong was now nominally raised in the second branch, how could he not be proud?

Since Jia Cong returned to the capital, many colleagues and renowned Confucian scholars in the capital had sent him messages or letters, asking him to bring along this nephew whose literary fame topped the Jiangnan region to attend various banquets and literary gatherings.

Although it had not yet come to pass, it had already earned him enough face.

As the head of the Jia clan, Jia Zhen naturally saw an additional imperially granted posthumous title in the clan as an honor; even the year-end imperial grace silver for the spring sacrifices from the palace included an extra portion, so how could it not be respectable?

Now that the past was gone, she still remembered this skill of handiwork.

As for the old lady of the West Mansion being annoyed by this posthumous title, Jia Zhen would at most offer a superficial response to her face, but in his heart, he would not care in the slightest; the West Mansion's own miserable affairs had nothing to do with the East Mansion.

Among the nephews of the Jia family, he was a unique figure, and no matter whose womb he was born into, no one could stop him from rising to prominence.

At the internal banquet Jia Mu held in the Rongqing Hall, she sat, as in previous years, with several daughters-in-law, grandsons' wives, as well as descendants like Daiyu, Baoyu, the three girls, Jia Huan, and Jia Lan.

Jia Cong naturally understood the temperament and calculations of those present, so he merely dealt with them superficially, drank a couple of cups, found an opportunity to quietly leave the banquet, and returned to the Qingzhi Studio.

……

It was not yet the hour of Xu, and bright paper lanterns were hung high in the courtyard, their glowing yellow light shining down, while exquisite paper-cuts were pasted on the windows of the east and west side rooms.

In the study, Zhen Ying Lian had even prepared high-quality red paper for Jia Cong, just waiting for him to return to write the spring couplets.

Those rumors of the inner chambers were not worth mentioning to them; look at this clan uncle before them—how young was he? A Grade 7 official, his mother granted a posthumous title, and he entered the palace to report to the Emperor every few days.

Moreover, Jia Cong had risen to prominence at a young age, and he still needed to win him over; who knew when he might need to rely on this lad, so how could he tear down Jia Cong's face over those damn trivial matters?

There were patterns of "abundance year after year" and the "stars of fortune, prosperity, and longevity," adding to the festive atmosphere of the New Year.

There was still no place for Jia Cong here.

Jia Cong sat at Jia Zhen's table in the outer hall, accompanied by Jia Rong, Jia Qiang, and others; these nephews of the "Cao" generation were very enthusiastic and flattering toward him.

Just as he entered the Qingzhi Studio, he saw shadows reflected on the window paper of the main room, and it seemed they were holding scissors or similar objects.

In the past, when Jia Cong and Zhi Shao lived in the storeroom of the East Road courtyard, they only had each other to rely on every New Year's Eve; back then, she often loved to cut paper-cuts to add a touch of festive warmth to the lonely little courtyard.

Even Jia Mu would not do such a thing; if it were truly done and spread, outsiders would only laugh at the Jia family for being stupidly obvious.

However, no one in the mansion dared to deliberately exclude Jia Cong from the New Year's Eve banquet now, because times had changed; in both the East and West Mansions, Jia Cong had become an obstacle that could not be bypassed.

Jia Cong entered the main room and saw Zhi Shao sitting on the small heated brick bed by the window, quietly cutting paper-cuts, while Zhen Ying Lian, wearing slippers, was pasting the finished paper-cuts onto the window paper of the main room.

Wu'er and Qingwen were setting the table on the large heated brick bed across the door; they had both heard the imperial decree outside the Rongxi Hall in the afternoon and received the happy news first.

The Cong Sanye had always been gossiped about behind his back by those heartless people in the mansion because of his biological mother, but now the Cong Sanye's biological mother was a titled lady as noble as the Madam; let's see who would dare to wag their tongues now.

After Jia Cong received the decree, he could not return immediately, so Wu'er had Aunt Liu prepare fruits and dishes in advance and hid a small jar of "Daughter's Red" wine, just waiting for him to celebrate so everyone could have a satisfying New Year's Eve dinner.

By the time Jia Cong finished writing the spring couplets and pasted them up, Zhen Ying Lian had finished pasting all the paper-cuts and added pine and cypress incense to the silver frost charcoal in the fire basin, making the main room warm and cozy.

A New Year's Eve dinner thus began, with soft whispers, lingering fragrance, and joyful laughter throughout the meal.

When midnight arrived, a large number of fireworks were set off in the open space of the outer hall in front of the Rongqing Hall, which could be seen very clearly from the courtyard of the Qingzhi Studio.

The fiery trees and silver flowers made for a night that knew no darkness; the thirteenth year of Emperor Jia Zhao had finally arrived.

……

The first day of the first lunar month.

Wu'er still had her widowed mother, Aunt Liu; Qingwen still had a cousin; Zhen Ying Lian's mother, Feng Shi, was settled in the Xiuniang Incense Shop; and Juan'er and the four of them were all born into the Rongguo household.

Jia Cong let them each go home to reunite and have New Year's tea.

Only Zhi Shao was an orphan who had never known her parents since childhood, so Jia Cong took her with him to Mount Luocang to pay New Year's greetings to his mentor, Liu Jing'an.

In an era of patriarchal rites and teachings, one respects Heaven, Earth, the Emperor, parents, and teachers; Jia Cong's maternal clan had withered, so his mentor Liu Jing'an was his closest elder, and paying a New Year's visit on the first day of the first lunar month was only fitting.

Cui Shi was very happy to see Jia Cong return after half a year; she was very fond of this talented, handsome, and sharp young disciple of her husband.

Knowing his difficult background and that he had grown up in loneliness and poverty, she felt even more pity and love for him, and by extension, she treated Zhi Shao, who was by Jia Cong's side, with the same affection.

Jia Cong offered tea to Liu Jing'an and sat opposite him, speaking to his mentor about the major case of the Jinling Water Surveillance Office and the imperial decree posthumously granting a title to his biological mother.

Liu Jing'an suddenly asked, "The Emperor has bestowed such grace in granting a title to your biological mother; what are your thoughts on this?"

Jia Cong was taken aback, sensing that his mentor's words already carried the intent of an examination.

A mentor of academics does not just teach the Four Books and the eight-legged essay; he focuses more on preaching the Dao, resolving doubts, broadening one's vision, and tempering one's character.

Liu Jing'an, a top scholar, had a literary reputation that covered the world; having experienced the vicissitudes of life and having served as the Minister of Rites, his perspective and vision were far from ordinary.

He could be revered by the world as a literary master and sage, so the disciples he taught would naturally not be bookworms who only understood the imperial examinations and not the ways of the world, but rather talented individuals capable of standing in the officialdom and governing the world.

Jia Cong pondered for a moment and respectfully replied, "The student believes that the Emperor possesses the world and has seen many outstanding individuals; he would never grant extra grace simply because Cong has meager talent.

The Emperor's biological mother rose from humble beginnings, remained unknown during her lifetime, and did not enjoy the glory of filial piety, which became a knot in the Son of Heaven's heart; whether she suffered such hardships during the time he was in his private residence, Cong dares not speak rashly...

Initially, when the Emperor built a temple and erected a monument for his biological mother, he faced much criticism and obstruction; he granted Cong the title of Grade 8 Scripture-Copying Officer of Righteousness because Cong's biological mother was also humble, sharing a similar heart with the Emperor, which can prove the righteousness of filial piety regardless of whether one is legitimate or illegitimate.

Now that the great temple has been established, the Emperor has completed his task in one stroke, posthumously granting a title to my mother as an interpretation and conclusion, casting the rites of equal status and honor for the living and deceased Empress Dowager into an irrefutable iron law!

Seeing the big from the small, and seeing the other from this, Cong believes that the Emperor intends to use the dispute over rites and laws to weigh the world.

To declare to the world that his words are law, his imperial heart is unique; this is the great Dao of imperial power, not the special favor of one person or one family.

Just because of this one matter, Cong feels the imperial heart even more awe-inspiring, as if walking on thin ice or standing on the edge of an abyss."

In fact, Jia Cong's words were already a bit too clear and transparent; if he did not have extreme trust in his mentor, he would never have spoken to this extent, as this already bordered on the suspicion of speculating on the imperial will.

Brilliant colors flashed in Liu Jing'an's eyes, and he was shocked in his heart; if such an analysis had come from someone who had long experienced the ups and downs of officialdom, it would be one thing.

But his disciple was only thirteen years old, and his vision was so far-reaching that it was not even inferior to his own; regarding such mental schemes and city-like depth, he had felt that Zhang Tianshi's words were alarmist at the time, but looking at it now...

(End of chapter)