...
Six months later.
As the last snow weighed down the branches, the newly planted peach trees on Zhuque Street sprouted tender buds. Jiang Huaiyu, holding an infant wrapped in an apricot-yellow swaddle, gently pushed open the mottled wooden door of the ancestral hall. On the offering table, Bai Yujing's memorial tablet was spotless, and beside it lay a broken ebony official's hat.
“Your father loved seeing you smile the most.” She pressed the baby’s soft little hand against the vermilion characters on the memorial tablet. “That day he collapsed in front of Yongji Granary, still clutching the rattle drum he wanted to give you.”
A commotion suddenly arose outside the door. Yingxiang came running in, panting: "Madam! The imperial entourage has arrived at the dock, and they say... they say they want to bestow upon you the title of Lady of the Imperial Decree!"
Jiang Huaiyu smiled as she looked at the newly built swallow nest under the eaves. Three months ago, when the plague was at its worst, the fleet she had acquired with her dowry carried the medicine prescriptions of the Langya Wang family up the river.
When Bai Yujing's final medical record was presented to the emperor, the empress dowager, who was ruling from behind the curtain, shed tears during the morning court session.
“Tell the palace I want to exchange my imperial title for a decree of imperial favor.” She gently placed Bai Yujing’s old official hat on the baby’s head. “From this day forward, this child’s name will be Bai Jishi.”
Ten years later, on Qingming Festival, the newly appointed Governor of Jiangnan, Bai Jishi, stood on the city tower to issue medical manuals. As thousands of people knelt in worship below the city wall, some sharp-eyed citizens noticed that the young governor was swinging a faded rattle drum at his waist.
Beneath the crabapple tree in the old Jiang family mansion, Jiang Huaiyu chuckled softly, stroking the yellowed prescription. The secret letter sent by Madam Deng turned into wisps of smoke in the incense burner—the so-called prescription from the Langya Wang family was nothing more than a folk remedy copied by Bai Yujing with his last breath.
“You always say that officials should help the world.” She poured the newly brewed peach blossom wine onto the bluestone slabs, and the crisp sound of horses’ hooves came from the distant official road, startling the blossoms from the trees.
[The End]
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