The two of them returned to the mansion at midnight last night, and after a quick wash, they went to bed.

When Zhao Xiheng woke up the next day, it was almost noon.

Wei Li was no longer there. He should be practicing calligraphy in his study at this time. After all, there was a rule that if he didn't practice two hundred characters before noon, he couldn't go back to his room to sleep at night.

She rubbed her eyes sleepily, rolled around in the warm blankets, knowing she couldn't stay in bed any longer, or she'd have insomnia that night.

Although Zhao Xiheng didn't have as heavy a burden as Wei Li, she still had her own things to accomplish.

After their wedding, their ambiguous married life finally got on track. Zhao Xiheng gradually took over all the household chores, asset management, and entertaining guests during her spare time.

Her memory hasn't been very good lately, so she dug out her long-forgotten diary and scribbled down some plans and things she easily forgot.

Turn to the first page of the notebook.

On the 13th day of the sixth month of the first year of Anding: Wei Li said, "If I had a daughter, I would drag her out of bed before dawn to practice martial arts. She wouldn't be allowed to eat snacks or candy, and I would only make four sets of clothes for her every year. I wouldn't feel sorry for her even if she cried."

Zhao Xiheng unconsciously stroked the characters on it, recalling the scene at that time, and couldn't help but drift into a daze.

That all happened last year. Time flies so fast; in just over three months it will be June again.

"What is Your Highness laughing at?" Xiao Tao asked as she peeled a pomelo, removing the thin fibers. She pointed to Zhao Xiheng's cheeks and said, "His face is red, and he's smiling like he's eaten honey."

"What good stuff is written up there? Let me see it too." She leaned over, holding the pomelo, wanting to take a look.

Zhao Xiheng hurriedly flipped through the notebook, "Nothing, I just remembered the roasted bean curd I had last night, it was spicy and chewy."

She quickly gathered her thoughts and picked up her notebook to take notes.

In April, the governors of various cities and prefectures will come to Buxian with their families to pay tribute, so it is necessary to prepare the mansions in advance for their accommodation. Fortunately, the mansion was originally a temporary palace built by the Prince of Zhenbei, and now only the east side has been opened up as a living area. The west side can be prepared and used to receive guests later.

Although Pingzhou has not explicitly declared its separation from the Great Zhou, it no longer pays tribute to the court and instead receives visits from various cities, thus forming its own independent system.

The seasons are about to change, and everyone in the household needs to prepare spring clothes for the servants.

Wei Li is expensive to wear, and the ones he had made last time were a bit worn out and inappropriate to wear out. He should make some new clothes.

Thinking of this, Zhao Xiheng couldn't help but rest her chin on her hand and prop her elbow on the table, adopting a more lazy posture.

The large characters I wrote for him last time are almost finished being traced; it's time to rewrite them for him.

She picked up her pen and scribbled something down lazily.

Hmm, and birthdays too. We haven't exchanged birthdays yet. I'll have to ask him tomorrow.

Write it down. Write it down.

Zhao Xiheng thought about it again and remembered that she had never seen all of his tattoos. He had seen her completely, while she hadn't even seen his upper body. She felt she was at a disadvantage and should think about the tattoo issue more.

She bit the pen and quickly wrote a string of neat characters.

I lost the bet last time, and I haven't fulfilled the conditions he set yet...

Zhao Xiheng blushed, and her wrist tightened uncontrollably, causing the ink to smear onto the paper.

Forget it, since he didn't mention it, let's just pretend it never happened. If the creditor isn't proactive, why should she, the debtor, be eager to get involved?

"Why is Your Highness's face red again?" The little peach was half-peeled, and the pink flesh was piled up in the red agate plate, shiny, moist, plump and crystal clear.

Feeling guilty, Zhao Xiheng quickly denied it, "No, it's just too hot in the room. Give me a piece of pomelo."

Xiao Tao quickly handed over the plate. Just as she was about to ask a question, Zhao Xiheng interrupted her, "Change the plate. The pink pomelo flesh will look better in a transparent crystal bowl, like the one with the grape pattern last time, which looked very nice."

Xiao Tao's attention was indeed diverted. After thinking about it for a moment, she realized that Zhao Xiheng's words made sense, so she went to change the serving dish.

Wei Li sneezed several times in his study. Frustrated, he closed the window and continued to worry about the troublesome calligraphy copybooks. Every now and then, he would step on the raised map on the floor and move the small flag from one end to the other.

He had already planned in his mind where to send troops and how to capture cities. However, the recent cold snap had caused him to hear that a large number of deer in the deer farm had frozen to death.

Wei Li sighed, moved the small flag, and slowly went back to the calligraphy copybook. He couldn't tear it up, nor could he throw it away. These were all written for him by Zhao Xiheng herself.

But he really didn't like practicing calligraphy.

If he knew that Zhao Xiheng was preparing to write new large characters for him, he would probably be tempted to jump into the river.

Wei Li waited and hoped that Chen Ruojiang would come to him with an emergency, so that he could avoid practicing calligraphy today. Perhaps Chen Ruojiang was on the same wavelength as him, because he really did come soon after.

It snowed in the morning, and Chen Ruojiang's shoes crunched on the snow. He had forgotten to wipe the soles of his shoes clean when he came in, and now the smooth marble floor was covered with melted snow stains, making him feel a little embarrassed.

His face flushed, he went outside to request an audience with Wei Li, and Zhao Xiheng sent Xiao Tao to deliver the message to him.

As soon as Xiao Tao lifted the curtain, she saw the puddle of snow water at his feet and couldn't help but cover her mouth and laugh, making Chen Ruojiang's face turn even redder.

"My lord should be practicing calligraphy in his study right now. Young general, why don't you go to the study and find him?"

Chen Ruojiang practically fled in panic, but turned back halfway, calling out, "Tao Niangzi."

The title was quite novel; it was the first time Xiao Tao had ever heard it. She lowered the curtain, which she had only partially lifted, and looked at Chen Ruojiang with a questioning gaze.

Chen Ruojiang felt even more embarrassed under her gaze, and quickly pulled out a letter from his sleeve. "This morning, a messenger came to the camp with a letter. I saw that some were being sent to our lord, and since I figured they would come sooner or later, I included them. It turned out that someone had sent them to you..."

Xiao Tao has no relatives left, so naturally no one would send her letters. "Where did they come from?"

“It looks like the west,” Chen Ruojiang said.

"Please trouble the young general to handle this for me," Xiao Tao pleaded, thanking him profusely before seeing him off to his study.

To the west, Yongzhou is located to the west, so she came into contact with the Xie family and others from Yongzhou.

Xiao Tao was well aware of her own status. Although she had a good relationship with His Highness, she was not an important person. The Xie family would not write to her. The only one who would write to her was Li Qinglong.

He subtly hinted at his feelings for her, but she wasn't interested.

It was early March, and Chen Ruojiang had come to deliver a summary of Pingzhou for the year to Wei Li.

Overall, there wasn't much development this year. Agriculture and animal husbandry were a different story, as there was nowhere to farm or graze in the winter. Forestry was unremarkable, and fisheries were doing alright. Due to the war, trade in mink fur, deer antlers, and ginseng was sluggish, with some stockpiling. To be honest, this year's income was worse than last year's.

Wei Li originally thought Chen Ruojiang had come to save her life, but it turned out he had come to hasten her death.

"Why don't you lower the price and sell the stockpiled goods?" Wei Li asked, rubbing his temples with a headache.

Chen Ruojiang had no idea about these things. "I heard that prices have already dropped a bit, and they can't drop any lower."

"Why? If we hoard all the goods and they can't be sold by next year, they'll be old and even harder to sell."

When Wei Li asked this question, Chen Ruojiang didn't know how to answer. He was following Wei Li in military affairs, not in people's livelihood or commerce, so he didn't understand these things. These questions should be answered by a teacher.

It was also his fault; he forgot that Wei Li hadn't read many books and was rather uncultured, so he hadn't found a scholar knowledgeable in commerce and politics beforehand. But now, it would probably be difficult to find one. Back then, the Prince of Zhenbei had a whole bunch of tutors, including renowned Confucian scholars who taught him literature, and retired officials who taught him how to govern a region and manage subordinates.

It was obvious that Chen Ruojiang couldn't offer any advice, so Wei Li could only patiently read through these summaries.

Each year, the prefectures and counties in various regions develop their own industries according to local conditions, and then engage in trade. Based on the development situation of the year, they make slight adjustments to the development plan for the following year. Finally, they summarize the situation of the year and the plan and report it to the provincial governor. After receiving these summaries, the governor decides whether they are feasible and replies with "approved" or "rejected" before mid-March.

The final plan must be drafted before Grain Rain, otherwise it will delay spring plowing.

Because of the harsh climate in Pingzhou, spring plowing does not begin until the end of April, so Wei Li has a relatively long time to make decisions. If it were a place in the south, they would have to rush to make plans for the following year as soon as the last crop of rice is harvested.

Wei Li had already exhausted all his wisdom just looking at these things. In addition, these prefects, whether to show off their culture or to pad their word count, wrote their summaries in a long and tedious way. Wei Li forced himself to read one of them and wrote ten pages of rambling text. He didn't have the ability to read ten lines at a glance and was afraid of missing the key points, so he could only read it word by word.

Good heavens, two whole pages of tiny characters, all praising Wei Li's wisdom and martial prowess, saying that it was because of him that Pingzhou was thriving and had favorable weather, almost making him sound like a god descended to earth.

Wei Li was so angry that he threw the chairs and vases down, knocking over a row of chairs and vases. Chen Ruojiang quickly picked them up and tidied them up, piling them on the desk.

"What rubbish is this!" Wei Li roared in fury. He was starting to think that the prefects were deliberately making things difficult for him. "From now on, if anyone puts this kind of awful writing around me again, I'll chop them up!"

Chen Ruojiang stood silently to the side, like a decorative vase, not daring to say anything. Little did he know that this was the usual practice in previous years; it was an unspoken rule to first write ten thousand words of praise before compiling the report.

"If my lord is too impatient to read, why not find someone to highlight the key points for you, so you can focus on those and then reply..." Chen Ruojiang suggested weakly once Wei Li had calmed down.

Wei Li swept his scrutinizing gaze over him, and Chen Ruojiang felt a chill run down his spine. He pressed his back against the wall, wishing he could blend into the environment.

Don't look for me, don't look for me, don't look for me...

He silently recited it in his heart.

"Get rid of that dead-face look on your face. Why would I ask you to look at it? Do you think I don't know how much you know?" Wei Li said, half-sarcastically.

Chen Ruojiang felt insulted, saying that even if he had less education, he was definitely more educated than Wei Li.