She nodded. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, teacher."
Song Yue returned to his desk, lowered his head, and continued his official duties. As he wrote, he casually asked, "I'm still busy for a while. Should I have the steward take you to a side room to rest?"
The cabinet had five members, of whom Song Yue was the youngest. Grand Secretary Xu Yan, needless to say, relied on his seniority and only concerned himself with matters affecting his own interests. The other two were also over fifty, so many cabinet affairs fell to Song Yue. He was very busy, a fact known throughout the court, yet whenever one saw him, he remained aloof and dignified, showing no signs of weariness from paperwork. He was probably a born workaholic.
Shen Qingchen had experienced several setbacks today and was already feeling quite tired, but seeing that her teacher still had to attend to official duties, she felt it wouldn't be good for her to go to sleep first. So she said, "Teacher, I'm not tired. I'll stay here. If there's anything I can help with, I can share some of the burden... I'll be very quiet and won't disturb you."
As she spoke, she noticed that the candlelight was dimming, so she got up to open the lampshade and adjusted the wick.
Song Yue glanced up at her and saw a smooth forehead, neat sideburns, fair skin, and delicate cheeks. Her robe was a bit loose, loosely tied with a belt, revealing her waist, which was usually hidden by the sleeves, and looked extremely slender. He could probably wrap his hands around it completely.
Never disturb?
Song Yue let out a soft breath, then lowered his head to continue processing official documents. As soon as he picked up his pen, he realized that the ink on his pen had dried up since he hadn't used it. So he dipped the pen in ink again.
After a while, Shen Qingchen noticed that Song Yue's cup was empty again, so he took a teapot with a bright red glaze that was warming on a small stove, went to Song Yue's table, and poured hot tea into his cup. Immediately, a wisp of tea smoke rose gracefully from the cup, and the sound of the water pouring into the cup was clear and melodious.
Song Yue couldn't help but turn her head slightly to glance at her out of the corner of her eye. She saw her student carefully carrying the teapot, a small section of her slender wrist peeking out from under her wide sleeves. After pouring the tea, she turned around, seemingly realizing that the sound of pouring the tea was too loud, and walked very quietly.
He gently shook his head and called to her, "Come here."
Cheng Ziyi's slender figure paused noticeably for a moment, then she turned around. "Teacher, is there anything you need me to do?"
"Put the teapot down and come to me," he said, picking a pen from the pen rack. When she came over, he handed her the pen. "Here you go."
Qingchen took the brush with both hands and examined it. The brush head was made of fine white wolf hair, very soft and delicate; the small section of the brush holder was ivory; and the handle was made of jade, with bamboo leaf patterns carved on it, making it very exquisite and translucent. This brush is very beautiful, but it's a bit heavy.
"Are you sleepy?" he asked, glancing at her with his handsome eyes.
Qingchen, holding the pen, shook her head, puzzled. "Not sleepy."
Song Yue nodded, patted the tall stack of documents on the table, and said, "These are all memorials that were suppressed by Grand Secretary Xu. Some have been pending for more than half a year, and some for a month. They only came to me for drafting in the last two days. Please make a list of these hundred or so memorials for me by date, and list the names, official positions, and reasons of the memorials. Give it to me tomorrow."
About a hundred copies? Shen Qingchen looked at the stack of memorials, then at the jade pen in his hand.
Song Yue's gaze followed hers. "Your pen is made of Hetian jade, which is much heavier than the others. It's perfect for practicing calligraphy."
"..."
He neatly tidied up the desk, clearing out a small space for her on the side. "Write here," he said, before sitting down behind the desk, leaning back in the comfortable armchair, and burying himself once again in the unfinished documents.
Shen Qingchen agreed, then consciously moved a round stool over and sat down beside him. She dared not speak to disturb him any further and began to read and organize the memorials one by one.
This pile of memorials came from both central administrative agencies such as the Six Ministries and the Three Temples, as well as from various local government offices. The matters reported were all-encompassing, including reforms and innovations, bribery and extravagance, flattery and resignations. The people involved were also very diverse, ranging from the emperor who was about to offer sacrifices to heaven to the common people who were about to be harvested, from the Mongol Tatars in the north to the Japanese pirates in the south.
Just by looking at these reports, Qingchen already had a general idea of how the country was functioning.
A large portion of these memorials denounced the court's long-standing corruption and impeached officials. They were likely suppressed by Xu Yan because they threatened the interests of the Xu faction, giving them time to maneuver. The ones Qingchen is now reviewing have all been approved by Xu Yan. This suggests either the Xu faction has resolved the issues, or the situation has become so serious that Xu Yan has sacrificed one to save the other.
As Qingchen looked at him, she suddenly thought of Xu Silin. That day after class, he came to persuade her, his handsome face no longer showing his usual roguish demeanor, but looking very serious. His dark, straight eyes were fixed on her, and the small amount of white in his lower eyelids made him look somewhat stubborn and domineering. He said she was too soft-hearted and advised her to learn to cut her losses. Now it seemed that his character was indeed deeply influenced by Xu Yan since childhood.
If he actually becomes an official in the future, will he abandon others for his own sake?
Shaking her head slightly, Qingchen put that person aside for the time being and began to draft the list.
Outside the window, the moon is pale and the lights are off.
In this tranquil room, the soft light enveloped the teacher and student, who were engrossed in studying politics. The incense burner emitted a gentle, lingering fragrance, and time seemed to stand still and stretch on.
After writing for a while, Qingchen suddenly realized that, given her status, she shouldn't have the right to read these memorials. Her teacher had actually let her read them all, giving her a rough understanding of the affairs of the Ming Dynasty overnight… Had he been too busy and forgotten?
She wanted to ask him a question, but saw that he was seriously handling his official duties. His perfect profile was serious and focused, his lips were pursed, and his long, straight eyelashes gently covered his dark eyes. He hardly blinked.
"You have so much free time to look at me, have you finished writing?" Song Yue quickly felt the gentle yet disturbing gaze and asked without looking up.
Qingchen immediately lowered her head, "Not yet."
She was about to dip her jade brush in ink when Song Yue's brush also reached for the inkstone. For a moment, the two of them stopped above the inkstone, their eyes meeting.
The ink has dried.
Song Yue raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to grind the powder for you?"
Shen Qingchen was taken aback for a moment and quickly shook his head, "This student dares not, it is naturally up to the student to do it."
She put down her pen, walked to the inkstone, and began to slowly grind ink, her slender fingers holding the ink stick, her delicate wrists gleaming under the lamplight.
Song Yue glanced at it and then looked away, four words flashing through his mind—"a beautiful woman adding fragrance to one's sleeves."
Soon, Qingchen finished grinding the ink and gently pushed the inkstone towards Teacher Song. "Teacher, it's ready."
Song Yue dipped his brush in ink and continued to hold it suspended in the air. He was using his left hand.
Shen Qingchen recalled that he had clearly used his right hand just now. She glanced at his newly written characters, which were a hundred times better than hers even with his left hand, and couldn't help but ask, "Does Teacher usually write with his left hand?"
"No, not really. When my right hand gets tired of writing, I switch to my left."
Shen Qingchen was somewhat surprised. There are few people who can write with their left hand, and even fewer who can write with both hands. No wonder he was so capable and hardworking, no wonder he was so smart, and no wonder he said his handwriting was the same as when he was ten years old.
She glanced at the calligraphy on the wall; it was unsigned and was a piece by Chen Zi'ang titled "Ascending Youzhou Terrace".
I see no ancients before me, nor any successors after me. Contemplating the vastness of heaven and earth, I am overwhelmed with sorrow and tears stream down my face.
Although this calligraphy differs from the official style he wrote in the memorials, the two lines of characters are elegant and graceful, combining strength and gentleness, forming a unified whole, and subtly revealing some connection between them.
"Which hand did the teacher use to write this calligraphy on the wall?"
"Two."
"Writing both at the same time?"
"Um."
It's one thing to be able to write with both hands, but to be able to write with both hands simultaneously—he must be an incredibly intelligent and calmly focused person.
"Why did the teacher practice writing with both hands?"
"When I was a child, I had strange ideas. I was always afraid that I would hurt my right hand and not be able to write, so I practiced with my left hand as well."
Qingchen stared blankly at his hands with their distinct knuckles. This young man, now so high and mighty, harbored such anxieties beyond his years.
Seeing that Shen Qingchen remained silent, Song Yue asked again, "Do you think I'm a bit strange?"
Shen Qingchen looked at him and shook her head. "Not at all."
"Is that so?" He glanced at her indifferently. "Hurry up and write."
"Yes." Shen Qingchen lowered his head and began to write.
At this moment, he stood up, walked to the inkstone, and began to grind the ink himself. Shen Qingchen wrote a dozen or so characters, and when the ink became too light, she reached for the inkstone to dip her hand in it. He didn't say anything and quietly avoided letting her dip her hand in the ink.
Just then, Shen Qingchen's stomach suddenly made a strange "gurgling" sound. Song Yue looked up at her and said, "The sound of your stomach is really unusual."
Shen Qingchen was extremely embarrassed.
Song Yue put down the inkstone in his hand, went to the door of the study, pushed it open, and a servant came over and ordered, "Make two bowls of lotus seed soup."
When they returned, Qingchen explained somewhat embarrassedly, "Teacher... actually, I'm not hungry."
"Your stomach growled and made me hungry."
"..."
Are you sleepy?
She shook her head. "The students aren't sleepy. Are the teachers usually busy this late too?"
He thought for a moment, then looked at her and said, "That depends on how Grand Secretary Xu feels."
Shen Qingchen's lips curved into a smile, and their eyes met, a feeling of unspoken understanding washing over them. The candlelight was soft and warm, seemingly touching their very souls. He was so handsome, his outstanding looks naturally radiant, blossoming in the candlelight.
After a while, the maid brought over lotus seed soup. Song Yue specially asked that some honey be added to Shen Qingchen's bowl, saying, "I don't usually like sweet things. The food they make is light in flavor, so adding some honey will make it more delicious."
Shen Qingchen picked up the lotus seed soup, which was still steaming hot and refreshing, with drops of orange-yellow honey slowly melting into it.
"Is it delicious?" Song Yue asked.
She ate so much she didn't even look up, exclaiming, "It's delicious!"
Song Yue ate a couple of bites slowly and then stopped, leaving the bowl aside. He then picked up the official documents to read, showing no signs of fatigue whatsoever.
Shen Qingchen took a couple of bites, then put down her bowl somewhat embarrassedly and continued with her work.
Among those folded documents, she saw one with a rather peculiar style.
That was a memorial submitted by the Ministry of Personnel regarding the evaluation and promotion of officials. Song Yue generally approved the dismissal and investigation of officials involved in corruption, stating "dismissal and permanent ban." However, for one official who insulted Xu Yan in court and was deemed disrespectful and to be demoted by one rank by the Ministry of Personnel, Song Yue commented, "His tongue is too oily and lacks rigor; he is to be punished by not eating meat for seven days." Another official was found to have misspelled a few words in a memorial. The Directorate of Ceremonial conveyed the Emperor's decree that this person should check his memorials before submitting them in the future, and the Ministry of Personnel would also demote him by one rank. Song Yue, however, ruled, "His eyes are too bright and he misspelled words; he is to be punished by not closing his eyes for three days."
Qingchen looked at his face and couldn't help but smile.
This Grand Secretary is also a bit mischievous.
As the night deepened, the air outside was filled with mist, enveloping and moistening the grass, trees, flowers, and leaves, gradually condensing into water droplets on the upturned eaves.
With only two more reports left to record, Shen Qingchen finally became too tired and fell asleep on the table.
Song Yue put down his pen and quietly looked at her for a while.
He stood up and called her twice, but she didn't respond. He walked over to her and patted her shoulder twice, but she was still fast asleep with her head on his arm.
He hesitated for a moment, then picked her up. The weight in his arms was just as light as he had imagined.
The study has an inner room containing a bed with a soft blue pillow and a thin quilt with a moon-colored begonia pattern.
Song Yue carried Shen Qingchen to the bed.
That sleeping face was fair and radiant, with delicate brow bones. Under the soft light, the features were exquisite and flawless, and the curve from the chin to the neck was soft and graceful...
She was quite confident in herself.
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