Song Yue looked at Shi Shu with a calm expression as if he were stating something he knew very well.
The scribe stared blankly, as if a long string in her mind had been suddenly plucked, and she quickly took the book back from Song Yue's hands. How dare Song Yue, the Grand Secretary, make her his laborer?
Song Yue didn't refuse, returned the book to him, and waved him away.
Then he turned to her, his gaze slow and gentle. "What's wrong?"
"Yesterday, Master Chen An invited me to the back hall to discuss scholarship, and I accidentally broke a potted plant that Master Chen had entrusted to his care..."
"Broken again?" he said, his gaze sweeping over her hands, which were clean, fair, and uninjured.
Qingchen was a little embarrassed. "Please forgive me, teacher. I bought a new basin to replace it for you. If you don't mind, I'll go to the back room and replace the old basin for you." After saying that, she took out the new basin from behind her and presented it to Song Yue with both hands.
The small blue-and-white porcelain basin, though not very finely crafted, was charming because of its adorable design of children playing among lotus flowers. Qingchen took a liking to it at first sight and spent a full tael of silver on it.
Song Yue took the basin, cradled it in her palm, and examined it in the sunlight. The baby on it was chubby and incredibly endearing. Did she like children?
"It looks alright. Are you really going to give it to me?"
Qingchen nodded, "Of course it should be given to the teacher."
"Then we'll just have to keep Chen An's as a backup."
Qingchen was taken aback, "Lord Chen..."
"Today Chen An also brought a basin, saying that he broke my basin yesterday to play with it. I didn't know it was you who did it until you told me."
"..." Actually, someone came to pass on a message from Chen An after lunch today, asking Qingchen to go to the back hall when she had time, but she was busy dealing with the name cards and didn't go. Unexpectedly, Chen An was kind-hearted and took the responsibility for her.
"Qingchen." Song Yue, carrying the basin, turned his gaze back to her, then changed the subject, "You have six days left."
Shen Qingchen knew he was reminding her of that poem, and nodded, saying, "Teacher, I understand."
After saying goodbye to Shen Qingchen, Song Yue continued to his office in the Inner Cabinet.
He held the small porcelain basin in his hand, and as it swayed, it appeared even more rounded and adorable. The Grand Secretary, however, didn't seem to realize that his refined appearance clashed somewhat with the basin; his mind was filled with thoughts of his special student.
The top-ranked student in the second tier, brimming with talent, her policy essays almost rivaled her own in her youth. Yet, when asked why she participated in the imperial examinations, she rambled on endlessly about world peace. Seeing her carrying a potted bamboo plant, she worried she was an incompetent teacher, even though she clearly lacked medical skills and dared to cut someone's flesh with a knife, and yet she still managed to save the most valiant general of the Ming Dynasty. When followed, she feigned importance and bluffed, showing no lack of shame, but the moment that erotic poem was mentioned, her ears turned a deep red… A female student?
The wind rustled through the leaves, and the sunlight cast a long shadow on the lone Grand Secretary as he walked.
Grand Secretary Song frowned slightly, somewhat confused by Shen Qingchen's actions.
Just then, the Duke of Dingguo walked towards them, about to leave the palace.
The Duke of Dingguo was already in his sixties, with half of his hair turned white. Dressed in the uniform of a second-rank military officer, he first greeted, "Grand Secretary Song."
Song Yue gathered his thoughts, regained his usual aloof demeanor, and returned the greeting, "Duke of Dingguo."
The Duke of Dingguo had a devoted daughter who waited eight years for her beloved husband without marrying. Every time he saw this son-in-law, who seemed increasingly unlikely to come, he felt a pang of indescribable sorrow. He had rejected her many times, and had even uttered cold words, but his daughter was stubbornly determined, and he, as her father, was completely helpless.
The only way was to abandon all pride and keep fighting despite repeated defeats. Duke Dingguo thought for a moment and said, "Grand Secretary Song, today is the Double Ninth Festival, and your residence is hosting a small chrysanthemum banquet. I heard that your two parents are not in the capital. I wonder if you would have time to come to your residence for a gathering?" As he spoke, his wrinkled hands trembled involuntarily at his side.
"Please forgive me, Your Excellency, but I have some matters to attend to in the cabinet, and I'm afraid I won't be free tonight," Song Yue replied calmly. "I appreciate Your Excellency's kindness."
Alas, it ended the same way as before. He knew he was busy, and he also knew that being busy was just an excuse. The Duke of Dingguo sighed almost imperceptibly, "Then... this old man will not delay the Grand Secretary from handling state affairs."
"Please take care, Your Excellency."
When the Duke of Dingguo took his leave, he glanced at the small porcelain basin in Song Yue's hand, something he had noticed as soon as they met.
At first, he thought it was a gift from that shameless Marquis of Guangping, but upon closer inspection, he realized that the porcelain basin wasn't very fine and was clearly from an ordinary folk kiln. That Marquis of Guangping wouldn't be so stingy.
Back then, she had given him all sorts of precious porcelain, fine silks, colorful satins, fragrant woods and agates, gold goblets and jade Buddhas… but not a single one could move him; he returned them all. In his eyes, the glory, splendor, nobility, inviolable authority, unattainable social standing, and enviable wealth of a founding hero and a military family seemed less important than the yellow earth beneath his feet; he didn't care about any of it.
Today, however, he held this worthless basin in his hand, as if he cherished it quite a bit.
The Duke of Dingguo was really curious. After taking a couple of steps, he couldn't help but turn back and ask tentatively, "Where did Grand Secretary Song buy this porcelain basin?"
Song Yue paused for a moment, his voice clear and distinct, "It was a gift from my student."
After seeing Song Yue off, Shen Qingchen went to the back room and thanked Chen An.
Chen An was engrossed in revising historical records when he saw her and said with a smile, "It's nothing, it's just that I didn't keep a close eye on things. If the magistrate wants to blame me, I won't be able to escape responsibility either, so let's not involve you. Besides, you always help me revise books, and I haven't thanked you yet."
"You're too kind, sir. Qingchen is learning by following you in compiling books."
Chen An was busy, so Qing Chen didn't say anything more, then said goodbye and returned to the classroom to pack her things and go home.
As soon as Gu Shaoheng saw her, he immediately came over and said, "Today is the Double Ninth Festival, you know that, right?"
Qingchen glanced out the window; the sun was setting, and the grass and trees were withered. She had almost forgotten that today was a day for family reunions and enjoying the view from a high place; before she knew it, another autumn had arrived.
“We have to do something,” he said, handing him a small bamboo slip.
There is a long-standing tradition among the common people that on the Double Ninth Festival (the ninth day of the ninth lunar month), they would bury bamboo slips under the pine and cypress tree in the courtyard, writing down their career aspirations on them, hoping for a smooth and successful career advancement.
“They say it’s very effective. You can tell just by looking at how many of the Grand Secretaries came from the Hanlin Academy.” Gu Shaoheng held his bamboo slips. “Mine are all written. You should start writing soon too.”
Qingchen stared blankly at the bamboo slip, unsure of what to write. He explained to her, "Just write what kind of official you want to be—governor, vice minister, governor-general, minister, etc.—from a high-ranking official to a Grand Secretary. Write whatever you want... By the way, our cohort of junior officials is different from usual. Our teacher is a Grand Secretary, so the starting point is higher than before. I know several of them wrote 'Grand Secretary.' Just write whatever you want; I won't read it. We'll bury it in a bit."
Governor, Vice Minister, Governor-General, Minister... even Grand Secretary, Shen Qingchen found it hard to imagine that one day he would be wearing the same scarlet official robe as Teacher Song.
She initially took the imperial examination simply for a salary and to avoid altering the course of others' lives. Little did she expect to now be admitted to the prestigious Hanlin Academy, the highest platform for officialdom, with a teacher who is the second-in-command and a classmate who is the son of the prime minister.
With such good political resources, it's no wonder they set their sights so high.
After thinking for a moment, Qingchen put pen to paper. Gu Shaoheng turned his back to her and didn't watch her write. After a while, he asked if she had finished writing.
"It's finished." She put down her pen and blew on the ink on the bamboo slip.
"Let's go, bury it."
After burying the bamboo slips, Shen Qingchen took the books home. Gu Shaoheng stomped on the soil he had dug up twice, as if afraid that others would find out where he had buried them.
Not long after he left, Xu Silin, Lin Mo, and another junior official, Luo Yuanhao, arrived.
The three of them had actually seen Gu Shaoheng trying to cover up the traces. Now that they were under the tree, Luo Yuanhao said, "I saw him step on this spot just now. Brother Xu, why don't we dig it out and take a look?"
Xu Silin had no interest in what Gu Shaoheng had written, but he knew he must have brought Shen Qingchen with him. He wanted to know what Shen Qingchen had written, but doing such a thing wasn't exactly honorable.
Seeing that Young Master Xu was frowning and deep in thought, still undecided, Lin Mo guessed who he was thinking of and decisively said, "Dig it up, maybe we'll dig up two pieces."
Seeing that Xu Silin remained silent, the two squatted down and diligently began digging. Soon enough, they unearthed two newly buried bamboo slips. Lin Mo, having lost Gu Shaoheng's slip, only took Shen Qingchen's and exclaimed excitedly, "Found it!"
Luo Yuanhao glanced at it, then burst out laughing, "Hahaha, he actually wrote this..."
Xu Silin was now flustered. He took the bamboo slip from Lin Mo's hand and saw that besides the signature, there were only four delicate characters on it:
Be a good official.
Luo Yuanhao laughed non-stop, "This Shen Qingchen is too dull. It's rare for him to make a wish, and he actually made such a simple one. People should strive for higher positions. Maybe he can achieve his wish by writing down the name of a governor, minister, or grand secretary."
"You know nothing!" Xu Silin cursed under his breath, his handsome face showing disdain.
Luo Yuanhao forced back his smile.
"His is the most difficult one."
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