Ripples gently spread (1)

In the days following the spring tea party at the Lin residence, Jiang Wanzhi's days seemed to have returned to that lazy, "laid-back" state.

However, the pool of spring water in my heart was eventually rippled by the wind, and it was difficult for it to remain completely calm.

She would still occasionally recall the slightly cool fingertips of that prince when he handed her the sugar figurine at the teahouse, and his calm yet chilling words, "Didn't you want to see it?"

At the same time, His Highness Prince Zhao's gentle, smiling eyes and considerate actions, like the warm spring sun, soothed her memories from time to time.

Two completely different feelings were tug-of-war in her heart.

"Sigh..." That day, she lay on the soft couch by the window, looking at the crabapple tree in full bloom in the courtyard, and sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

She was unconsciously clutching an embroidered handkerchief in her hand, which she had already twisted into a mess.

"Miss, what's wrong with you again?" Chun Tao came in carrying a plate of freshly made plum blossom pastries. Seeing her like this, she couldn't help but laugh. "Ever since we returned from the tea party, you've been sighing a lot. Are you perhaps missing some prince?"

"What nonsense are you spouting!" Jiang Wanzhi sat up straight instantly, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, her cheeks slightly flushed. "I was... I was contemplating life! Yes, contemplating life!"

Qiuju smiled and said, "Yes, yes, in the life Miss contemplates, there is certainly no sugar figurine given by His Highness Prince Heng, nor a handkerchief handed by His Highness Prince Zhao."

"You two little rascals, you're getting better and better at teasing me!" Jiang Wanzhi grabbed a soft pillow in embarrassment and annoyance, pretending to hit it. The two maids dodged with smiles, and the room was filled with laughter.

Just then, a maidservant came in to report: "Miss, the gatekeeper has handed in a letter from the Prince Heng's residence."

The laughter and chatter stopped abruptly.

Jiang Wanzhi's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to remain calm as she accepted the invitation. It was still plain white stationery, the handwriting bold and powerful, but the content contained a few more words than before:

"The snacks were alright. Also, would you be interested in seeing the Ci'an Hall in the western suburbs?"

The signature consisted of only one character: "珩".

Jiang Wanzhi held the post and read it three times to make sure she hadn't misread it.

The snacks were alright? Is that... a review?

He actually ate it?

They even gave it a "passable" rating?

This made her feel even more flattered than if His Majesty the Emperor had praised her father's achievements!

Also, Ci'an Hall in the western suburbs?

Isn't that a charity in Beijing that takes in elderly people living alone and abandoned babies?

Why did he suddenly bring up this place? And why did he ask her if she was interested in seeing it?

This nonsensical post perfectly exemplifies His Highness Prince Heng's concise and rambling style.

"Miss, what did His Highness Prince Heng say?" Chun Tao asked curiously as she approached.

Jiang Wanzhi handed the invitation to her, and the two maids looked at it together, but they were also completely confused.

"What does Your Highness mean by this?" Chun Tao blinked.

Qiuju thought for a moment and said, "I seem to have heard that the Ci'an Hall in the western suburbs has been in disrepair for many years, and it almost had to close down a few days ago due to insufficient funds. His Highness Prince Heng mentioned this place and asked if Miss was interested in taking a look. Could it be... that this matter is related to His Highness?"

Jiang Wanzhi's heart skipped a beat. Recalling his previous act of quietly subsidizing the families of soldiers, and connecting it with the Ci'an Hall, could he be doing good deeds in secret again?

An indescribable emotion welled up inside me. That iceberg always seemed to prefer hiding all its good intentions and acts of kindness beneath its cold exterior.

“Go! Of course I’ll go!” Jiang Wanzhi made the decision almost without hesitation.

She was so curious—curious about what kind of person he was, and what thoughts lay hidden beneath his cold, hard mask.

She replied immediately, succinctly stating, "Thank you for your approval, Your Highness. Ci'an Hall is interested."

This time the reply came even faster. In the afternoon, Yan Cheng came again in person, still expressionless, to convey: "His Highness said that the carriage will be waiting at the back gate of the Prime Minister's residence at Chenshi (7-9 AM) tomorrow. This trip should be simple, and there is no need to bring many attendants."

He actually came to pick her up in person? Jiang Wanzhi suppressed her surprise and nodded in agreement.

The next morning, Jiang Wanzhi arrived at the back gate on time, accompanied only by her maid Chun Tao. She was dressed in a plain lotus-colored ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress) and wore only a silver hairpin with a dangling ornament in her hair.

An unremarkable blue-canopied carriage was already waiting there, and the driver was a man with an ordinary face but exceptionally sharp eyes.

Yan Cheng rode a black horse and stood guard beside the carriage. When they came out, he simply nodded slightly in greeting.

Jiang Wanzhi was helped into the carriage by Chun Tao, only to find that the interior was quite spacious, with simple yet exquisite furnishings.

Zongzheng Hengyu was already sitting inside, still dressed in a black casual suit, with his eyes closed, resting.

Hearing the noise, he opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping over her simple clothes, and he nodded almost imperceptibly as a greeting.

"Your Highness." Jiang Wanzhi bowed softly and carefully sat down opposite him.

"Hmm," he replied, and then said no more.

The carriage slowly started moving, the rumbling of its wheels drowning out the silence inside. Jiang Wanzhi sat upright, not daring to look around.

"Don't be so formal." Suddenly, his deep voice came from the other end of the line.

Jiang Wanzhi looked up and met his deep gaze, then quickly said, "No... I'm not being reserved."

Zongzheng Hengyu's gaze swept over her slightly tense shoulders, and without saying anything more, he picked up a thin booklet from beside him and handed it to her.

Jiang Wanzhi took the booklet with a puzzled look, and saw the words "Ci'an Hall Commentary" written on the cover.

She opened it and found a detailed record of the current situation of Ci'an Hall: the condition of the building, the number of people adopted, monthly expenses, the amount of funding shortage, etc., all clearly organized and with detailed data.

"This is……"

"Take a look," he said succinctly.

Jiang Wanzhi lowered her head and began to carefully peruse the documents. The more she read, the more her brows furrowed. The situation at Ci'an Hall was worse than she had imagined.

The roof leaks, the walls are crumbling, the elderly lack food and clothing, and the children are thin and pale. They are barely surviving, relying on only an elderly philanthropist and a few volunteers.

Her heart sank, the tender thoughts she had just had dissipated under the weight of reality, leaving only sympathy and worry for these lonely and helpless people.

"How could this be..." she murmured. "Doesn't the Prefect of the Capital care? Don't those great philanthropists offer any help?"

Zongzheng Hengyu's voice was calm, yet tinged with a hint of sarcasm: "The budget of the Prefectural Governor's Office is limited, a drop in the ocean. As for benefactors? There are many who add flowers to brocade, but few who offer charcoal in the snow."

Jiang Wanzhi fell silent. She came from modern times and knew the importance of social welfare, but she also understood how difficult it was for such folk charitable organizations to survive in ancient times.

"Then... what does Your Highness mean by showing me this?" She vaguely guessed what was going on, and her heart started racing.

Zongzheng Hengyu looked at her, his gaze deep: "I have already ordered people to allocate silver to repair the houses and purchase winter clothes and rice. However, the charity hall cannot be built in a day; a long-term plan is needed. I heard that you once tried grafting flowers and trees in the backyard of the Prime Minister's residence, which was quite ingenious. Perhaps you have a way to make it improve and be able to sustain it?"

His tone remained flat, but Jiang Wanzhi could detect a serious consideration in it.

He wasn't simply giving away money; he was thinking about how to solve the problem at its root.

And how did he even know about those little gadgets she was tinkering with in the backyard? And he even thought she might have some "ingenious ideas"?

A feeling of being trusted and recognized, mixed with concern for the situation of Ci'an Hall, made her chest feel slightly warm.

She thought carefully for a moment and then cautiously spoke: "In my humble opinion, it is better to teach a man to fish than to give him a fish. Simply relying on donations is not a long-term solution. Perhaps... we could see if there are any elderly people or older children in the hall who are still in good health, and organize them to do some chores that they are capable of?"

"For example... there seems to be a vacant lot in the backyard of Ci'an Hall. If it could be cleared out and some easy-to-grow vegetables could be planted, it could at least supplement their food. If there are any women who are good at needlework, they could perhaps take on some simple embroidery work, even if it's just pasting paper boxes or twisting hemp rope. They could earn some copper coins, so that they would feel that they are not entirely useless and can also have some income."

As she spoke, she observed Zongzheng Hengyu's expression. He listened intently, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on his knees.

After she finished speaking, he remained silent for a moment, then nodded: "Alright. You can discuss the specifics with the manager later."

He actually adopted her suggestion? Jiang Wanzhi felt a surge of joy and couldn't help but ask, "Why is Your Highness so concerned about Ci'an Hall?" and even brought her here specifically to see it.

Zongzheng Hengyu turned his gaze to the fleeting street scene outside the window, his profile cold and hard, but his voice seemed to have lowered slightly: "Among my troops, there are also soldiers who have been wounded or killed, and their families have no one to rely on."

With just a few words, Jiang Wanzhi understood instantly.

Those soldiers who were wounded or killed on the battlefield, their parents, wives and children, if left unattended, might eventually end up here.

He did these things not only out of compassion, but also because of the heavy responsibility on his shoulders, and to give an account to those who followed him and shed blood and sacrificed for him.

At this moment, looking at his cold and aloof profile, Jiang Wanzhi felt an indescribable shock and admiration welling up in her heart.

She suddenly realized that the man in front of her, though perhaps cold and aloof, must possess a depth and warmth in his heart that is beyond the reach of ordinary people.

The carriage soon arrived at Ci'an Hall in the western suburbs.

The scene before me was even more dilapidated and desolate than described in the booklet. The low mud walls had collapsed in many places, the roofs of several tiled houses were askew, and the windows were blocked with rags.

Several thin, pale-faced children, dressed in patched-up clothes, timidly peeked at them from behind the door.

An elderly man with white hair and a faltering gait rushed over upon hearing the news. Upon seeing Zongzheng Hengyu, he was so excited that he almost knelt down to pay his respects: "This humble subject was unaware of Your Highness's arrival and has failed to greet you properly..."

Zongzheng Hengyu raised his hand in a gesture of support: "No need for formalities." His tone remained calm, but it lacked some of the coldness he displayed in the court. "This is the daughter of Prime Minister Jiang. She came to visit after hearing about the Ci'an Hall incident."

The old man quickly bowed to Jiang Wanzhi again.

Looking at the grateful tears in the old man's cloudy eyes, at the curious yet fearful eyes of the children around him, and at the dilapidated environment, Jiang Wanzhi couldn't help but feel a lump in her throat.

She quickly helped the elderly woman up, saying, "Please get up, sir. We just came to check on things and see if there's anything we can do to help."

Zongzheng Hengyu was clearly visiting for the second time and was quite familiar with the place. He went straight to check the roof that was being repaired and the newly delivered rice and grain supplies, and whispered a few words to the foreman in charge of the repairs, inquiring about the progress.

Jiang Wanzhi was drawn to the children. She asked Chuntao to take out some ordinary maltose that she had prepared in advance and distribute it to them.

At first, the children were hesitant to accept the candy, but seeing her kindness, they cautiously stepped forward, took the candy, and immediately put it in their mouths, their faces showing a satisfied yet shy smile.

That innocent smile, however, made Jiang Wanzhi feel even worse.

She crouched down and chatted with a slightly bolder little girl, asking her how old she was, what her name was, what she usually ate, and what she played.

The little girl answered timidly, but her gaze kept drifting towards the tall, dark figure not far away.

"Are you afraid of that person?" Jiang Wanzhi asked softly.

The little girl nodded, then shook her head, and whispered, "Your Highness... is a good person. He brings us food, clothes... and even has houses repaired. It's just... he just doesn't smile."

Upon hearing this, Jiang Wanzhi couldn't help but look up at Zongzheng Hengyu. He was listening to the foreman's reply; his profile was cold and hard, his gaze sharp, and he indeed showed no sign of a smile, even appearing somewhat stern.

But it is precisely this person who "doesn't smile" who is quietly doing the warmest things.

Afterwards, she found the old steward and inquired in detail about the people in the hall, sharing the "teaching a man to fish" ideas she had come up with on the way.

For example, they could set up vegetable gardens or take on simple handicrafts. The old manager's eyes lit up as he listened, and he thanked him repeatedly, saying that these methods were indeed feasible.

Zongzheng Hengyu walked over at some point and stood quietly to the side, listening without interrupting. Only after she finished speaking did he say to the old steward, "Make a list of all the necessary materials and give it to Yan Cheng."

"Yes! Yes! Thank you, Your Highness! Thank you, Miss Jiang!" The old steward was so excited that tears streamed down his face.

It was already afternoon when we left Ci'an Hall. The children and the elderly saw us off to the door, their eyes filled with gratitude and reluctance.