At this hour, the air around the Daoist temple always swelled with the sorrowful, silver-sweet lament of the erhu.
The melody was so captivating that patrons from the nearby teahouses and eateries would inevitably drift closer, drawn by the music's exquisite pull. Yet, though the performance was widely celebrated, the young woman who wielded the bow—unbeknownst to her—was adored even more than the instrument’s song.
Today, yielding to the children’s persistent pleas, the girl, Hong Xiuli, had resumed her informal lessons. But instead of a standard composition, she had woven the beloved founding legend of the Caiyun Kingdom into the music itself.
As the final, wistful note faded, Xiuli concluded the tale as she always did.
“...And so,” she murmured, the silence of the aftermath amplifying her voice, “the Eight Immortals of Color vanished without a trace. They say they simply melted into the lives of the people—perhaps one of them is right here in our neighborhood!”
When Xiuli offered a final, dazzling smile and declared, "That’s it! The end!" the cluster of children, who had been listening with almost painful seriousness, collectively exhaled.
“Teacher Xiuli!”
“Yes?” she replied, a soft questioning sound.
“Is there really a Fairy Cave Palace in the Royal City?”
Xiuli gently placed her erhu in its case, her smile unwavering as she stroked the boy’s head. “There is, my dear. Though it’s now formally known as Xiandong Province, what you’re referring to is indeed hidden somewhere in the Royal City.”
“Then have you seen it, Teacher Xiuli?” A cute little girl, her hair pulled into a neat bun, scrambled onto Xiuli’s knee, her eyes shining like polished bronze.
Hearing this, Xiuli offered a dramatic, theatrical sigh. “Alas, I haven't. I’ve always dreamed of seeing it at least once! But it’s inside the Royal City, and to enter, one must pass the National Examination—a privilege reserved only for boys.”
“Then I’ll take the National Exam when I’m big! I’ll become an amazing official, marry Teacher Xiuli, and bring you into the city!”
Xiuli couldn’t help but laugh, watching the energetic young man puff out his chest with such proud ambition.
“Truly? That’s wonderful, Liu Jin! —But if you’ve set your ambitions so high, you must apply yourself harder. You forgot to finish your homework yesterday, didn’t you?”
“Th-that’s because...” The boy faltered, while the girl with the bun hugged Xiuli tight, stuck out her tongue, and made a face at him.
“Hmph! Stop dreaming. You never do your homework.”
“If Liu Jin wants to be an official, he’d be better off following Jinglan and taking the martial arts exam to become a military officer,” another child piped up.
“Ah—yes, yes! Because he’s good at punching things! That’s all he’s good at, anyway.”
“But he’s terrified of his mother and Teacher Xiuli. Isn’t that a bit useless for a warrior?”
“Y-you little—” The boy flushed scarlet and raised a fist.
Just then, a purposeful knock echoed on the temple door.
“My apologies for the intrusion, young mistress.”
Xiuli gasped in genuine surprise as a tall, familiar figure entered the room. “—Jinglan! What are you doing here?”
“Ah—! It’s Jinglan!”
“Jinglan! Let’s play war—”
Instantly surrounded by a riot of children, the young man—Jinglan—managed a wry smile. “Ah... I’m sorry, I’m rather busy today. Could we postpone the war until tomorrow?”
“Whaaat—” The collective groan of disappointment was palpable. Jinglan gently tapped one boy’s forehead and walked over to Xiuli.
“Miss, could you please return home as soon as you are able? We have a highly distinguished guest.”
“Oh, no—” This time, the children’s cry of dismay was even louder.
Xiuli, too, was secretly groaning at this unwelcome arrival. —How dreadful! I have very important 'work' waiting for me today! Who in the heavens would choose this moment to drop by unannounced?!?
Despite her internal tirade, Xiuli swiftly rose and affectionately stroked the heads of the children clinging to her skirts. “My apologies, little ones, that truly is all for today. Don’t forget what you were taught, and Liu Jin, you must remember your homework.”
With a quick, conspiratorial wink, Xiuli and Jinglan set off together. Xiuli tilted her head, her expression a mixture of confusion and suspicion.
“—Jinglan, why are you here at this time? You were supposed to be attending court today, weren’t you?”
“Yes, Miss... you’re correct. It’s only that the visitor at the mansion specifically requested I escort you back...”
“He sent you back for me? —Is this visitor truly so important?”
“Uh, well...”
His evasive tone only intensified Xiuli’s suspicion.
Jinglan appeared gentle and refined, yet his skill with a sword was exceptional. Because of this, despite the fact that Xiuli’s family—the Hong family—was a mere shadow of its former glory, Jinglan had risen through the military ranks at an impressive speed and now commanded a certain status. Though not yet a court heavyweight, anyone who could sway him was a formidable figure in Xiuli’s mind.
“I don’t know who this person is, nor why they’ve come to see me, but an important figure should have the courtesy to inform me in advance! He’s thrown my entire day’s plans into complete disarray! It’s all a mess!”
Xiuli clenched her fists, then abruptly looked up at Jinglan and seized the front of his uniform jacket with both hands.
“What am I going to do, Jinglan! I’m going to be overdrawn again this month! I had a high-paying job lined up, and now it’s all gone! I thought I’d finally have enough money for rice this month, but now it’s back to… wheat... wheat... wheat! That horrible grain that mocks me with its pale center line, declaring: ‘I’m not rice!’ Ah—I simply can’t bear it! I loathe that customer!”
“Miss! Nobody is saying that! Wheat cannot talk.”
Jinglan, instantly concerned about drawing attention, rapidly scanned their surroundings. His reaction was understandable, as Xiuli was standing on the main thoroughfare, shouting her culinary grievances at the top of her lungs... yet, the passersby seemed to barely register the outburst.
“Please don’t worry, Miss. I shall take on a few more side jobs. The tiles that blew off a few days ago must be fixed at once, or the rain will cause trouble. Wooden barrels are terribly expensive, so I’ll purchase tiles and repair them myself, which will save a great deal of expense. I can also salvage some serviceable broken lattice doors from the city to bring back... Miss, please don’t be upset. I love wheat rice. It’s extremely nutritious.”
“Wuaaaaaaaa—Jinglan! I’m so sorry! I’m constantly causing you trouble. If only my father had been more diligent, we wouldn’t be in this position!”
“Don’t dwell on such small matters, Miss.”
“Our Hong family cannot even afford to pay your wages. All the other servants ran off years ago... but you have remained. A dignified military officer of the court has to do bookkeeping for restaurants, write letters, and run errands for merchants. Only our Hong family in the whole world treats people with such appalling disregard.”
“…………”
It certainly seems to be true, Jinglan thought.
“The salary you should be receiving would allow you to live a life of comfort, yet by staying with the Hong family, your wages are instead consumed by the endless repairs and living costs of this house... Even so, we have no right to ask you to remain and miss out on a better master. Please forgive us! If you truly find a better environment, don’t worry about us for a moment!”
“Miss.”
Jinglan interrupted Xiuli with a gentle, patient smile.
“Truly, there is no need to worry. I will not leave unless you yourself drive me away. I have no complaints. On the contrary, I am quite content to repay the family’s kindness.”
“K-kindness...?”
“Thirteen years ago, the Hong family took in a stranger like me and allowed me to remain. I have already resolved to repay that kindness throughout this life, so you need not fret about it at all, Miss.”
“...Jinglan...”
Xiuli’s face twisted into an expression of renewed frustration.
“Oh—it’s infuriating! Why has our family fallen to this point—! Simply having a high position is utterly useless—!”
“…………”
Patting her elegantly curved back, Jinglan nodded in deep, internal agreement.
...Indeed, ‘only’ having a high position...
The very name 'Hong' was a glimpse into this past.
The territory of the Caiyun Kingdom was divided into eight provinces: Blue, Red, Green, Yellow, White, Black, Tea, and Purple. Six hundred years ago, the then-king, in a fit of royal whimsy, decreed that the ruling families of each province must adopt their corresponding color as their surname. The Marquis of Blue Province became Lan, the Marquis of Red Province became Hong, and so on. Commoners were strictly forbidden from using these Seven Surnames (the Purple family being exempt as they were the royal house). To bear one of the Seven Surnames was to possess a lineage that was purely, irrefutably noble.
Six centuries later, the ruling system had evolved from local feudal power to central government appointments. Yet, the prestige of the Seven Surnames endured. When the National Examination was opened to commoners, the Seven Surnames spared no expense in cultivating top talent. Consequently, the vast majority of candidates who reached the highest ranks of the Imperial Examinations still hailed from these families, ensuring their prestige and wealth only grew.
Xiuli was a Hong, a true scion of one of the Seven Surnames. The Hong family was second only to the Lan family, considered the most prestigious of the elite houses. Legend held that the Purple royal family was the intersection of Red and Blue, which is why those two colors were bestowed upon the two most powerful clans of the era.
...Logically, a young lady of this standing should be living a life of utter luxury, attended by a horde of maids.
No matter how outlandish, she should certainly not be screaming in the streets about being reduced to eating wheat, juggling account books full of red ink, and worrying about a missing roof tile and the cost of a wooden barrel.
Why was a young woman from the esteemed Hong family reduced to such a plight?
The reason lay with the eldest son of the Hong family, Xiuli’s father, Shao Ke. His gentle, scholarly nature was often whispered about as being unsuitable for a clan leader. His younger brother, however, was exceptionally capable. Therefore, before his death, Shao Ke's father entrusted the succession to the younger brother. Shao Ke, who had always felt unsuited for the position, had willingly, even cheerfully, stepped aside.
However, after his brother inherited the family business, Shao Ke's position as the eldest son became awkward. After much deliberation, he decided to pack his bags and leave Hongzhou. The Hong family, unwilling to see their eldest son displaced, built a mansion in Zizhou and arranged a high-ranking court position for Shao Ke. Shao Ke and his family moved to Zizhou, stopping only to pick up the young, unconscious boy—Jinglan—whom they found by the roadside, before settling into their current home.
The "high-ranking court position" was, in reality, merely a minor official post managing the government treasury—the library—a position many had never even heard of. As a result, the Ministry of Revenue, the financial regulator, frequently "forgot" to pay Shao Ke. Since Shao Ke never once protested, his salary gradually dwindled. Eventually, everyone but Shao Ke, Xiuli, and Jinglan left the household to fend for themselves. Shao Ke, perpetually buried under piles of books in the government treasury, was utterly useless as a breadwinner, leaving Xiuli and Jinglan as the sole support for the entire household.
Jinglan’s gaze grew vague as she recalled the past.
...We had no idea that the maintenance of that enormous mansion would require such an astronomical budget...
At first, Xiuli and Jinglan were optimistically frugal. They believed that as long as they earned enough to feed the three of them, they could manage. However...
They had utterly underestimated the cost of keeping the gargantuan mansion habitable. It devoured more than half their income, and as their combined salaries decreased year by year, their workload naturally increased. Though Shao Ke was strictly required to earn a certain wage, he ignored the directive. The moment he stepped inside the government library, he became "absolutely focused."
“Miss... Miss, you truly work too hard. Day after day, after finishing the household chores, you go to the Daoist temple to teach the children, and then you work everywhere until sundown... Today must be a reprieve sent by the heavens. Besides, my salary is about to increase soon...”
Xiuli suddenly looked up, her face radiating pure joy.
“You’re getting another promotion? Congratulations, Jinglan! Excellent, I shall treat you tonight!”
“Huh? But...”
“Don’t worry! While the ingredients may be few, the cooking methods are vast! This is a grand opportunity to demonstrate my skills. Just you wait, I shall prepare a feast that will simply astound you!”
Jinglan chuckled, watching Xiuli happily stride forward.
Xiuli wasn't pleased by the money; she was genuinely delighted by his promotion. This selfless kindness filled Jinglan with profound warmth.
“The Third Imperial Master—Grand Tutor Xiao!?”
After finally pressing Jinglan, who had been hesitant about her visitor’s identity, Xiuli nearly dropped the expensive tea she was preparing to serve. That was how truly shocking the name was.
The Third Imperial Master was the King’s advisor, holding a rank second only to the King himself. Though he did not directly participate in state affairs, he was among the highest officials, wielding more power than even less senior members of the royal family.
Moreover, Grand Tutor Xiao had been a trusted minister to the renowned late king, a prime minister of immense respect and prestige. To Xiuli, he was more than a man; he was a living legend.
“W-why would Grand Tutor Xiao possibly come to see me?”
“I don’t know.”
Jinglan was equally bewildered. When Grand Tutor Xiao had bluntly stated, “I wish to speak with the daughter of the Hong family. Please convey this message,” Jinglan hadn’t understood the words for a moment. He couldn’t associate the word "daughter" with the busy, working Xiuli. Furthermore, the mansion had no staff to convey the message, and the "daughter" was out working in broad daylight.
“...Is it just ‘that’ father of ours who’s been left alone to entertain such a crucial figure...?”
“...Yes.”
“And he hasn't even served the guest tea.”
“...Because the Master did not know where the tea set was,” Jinglan said with a helpless smile, arranging the steamed buns on a platter.
The kitchen was a chaotic disaster zone, yet the all-important tea set was intact. ...It appears he truly tried to find it, but failed. The Master’s household management skills were utterly unreliable.
“...Never mind. At least you knew to prepare the tea to serve the guest, which is commendable. By Father’s standards, that’s quite good.”
Xiuli sighed deeply and picked up the prepared tray.
In an instant, Xiuli’s demeanor transformed. Her back straightened, and her movements flowed like polished silk. Jinglan was always struck by her effortless grace. Even the court ladies-in-waiting rarely possessed such perfect etiquette.
Jinglan often lamented that Xiuli's immense refinement was utterly wasted in the marketplace.
When they reached the drawing-room, the sound of cheerful laughter and conversation spilling from within made Xiuli arch an eyebrow in surprise.
“...They seem to be getting along quite well, but Father is hardly eloquent. Could they possibly share similar interests?”
Or, was Grand Tutor Xiao deliberately putting him at ease... most likely, no, definitely the latter.
As Xiuli’s expression softened, Jinglan entered the living room and knelt on one knee before his master and the guest.
“——Master, Miss Xiuli has returned home.”
“Oh, she’s back?”
A man with an approachable smile stood up at the announcement. This was the master of the house, Hong Shao Ke. He was about forty, but without a beard, he looked only in his early thirties.
“Uh... that... where’s the tea...?”
Jinglan could not suppress a quiet, internal laugh as he watched his Master coyly whisper his question.
“The Lady has brought the tea, Master, and your favorite red bean buns.”
Upon hearing this, Shao Ke’s face immediately brightened.
This straightforward reaction nearly made Jinglan burst out laughing, and he had to exert all his self-control, as Shao Ke was not the only person present, and laughing aloud in court circles was considered deeply rude.
After painstakingly composing his serious expression, Jinglan slowly opened the door.
Xiuli walked in lightly, placed the tray on the coffee table, took three steps back, and knelt perfectly on her knees.
“—I, Xiuli, pay my respects to Grand Tutor Xiao. Grand Tutor Xiao has traveled so far, yet I was unable to greet you in person. I have kept you waiting for so long, and I deeply regret my inadequate hospitality. I hope Grand Tutor Xiao will forgive me.”
With this, Xiuli clasped her hands together in a flawlessly executed kneeling salutation.
The old man observed her every movement carefully, nodded slightly, and stood up.
“...Please rise, Miss Xiuli.”
Xiuli couldn't help but glance up.
Wrinkles carved by time, a long mustache framing his mouth, eyes full of boundless wisdom—the venerable Grand Tutor was like a majestic, centuries-old tree. Xiuli unconsciously lowered her head once more.
“I am deeply honored to meet Grand Tutor Xiao today.”
“Alright, alright, enough of the formalities. Take a seat!—Lady Jinglan, you too,” Grand Tutor Xiao declared, speaking with an air of absolute authority before Jinglan could voice his refusal to sit.
“This matter concerns Lady Jinglan as well. Come, both of you, please be seated.”
Xiuli and Jinglan exchanged a quick, uncertain look. ...What exactly is going on?
“Could you pour me a cup of tea? I drank a lot of water and my stomach feels a little cold.”
Grand Tutor Xiao rubbed his abdomen with a slightly uncomfortable expression. Xiuli glanced at the table, and her face went instantly pale.
It appeared that because Father couldn’t find the tea set, he had simply served water. Looking closer, there was a bucket on the ground. He had likely used the bucket to draw water from the well and served Grand Tutor Xiao using a simple bowl. He treated the court’s most influential civil official as if he were feeding a horse or an ox!
(Father————!!)
Xiuli screamed internally, but Shao Ke was smiling happily, probably hoping his daughter would praise his politeness. Xiuli quickly ignored her father and frantically began pouring the tea.
Grand Tutor Xiao did not immediately leap into the main conversation. Instead, he sipped his tea and reached for a steamed bun. He exclaimed, “What a delicacy! Miss Xiuli made these herself, didn't she?”
“Ah, yes! ...Thank you for the compliment, Grand Tutor.”
Watching the buns vanish, Xiuli felt a surge of anxiety. She desperately wanted Grand Tutor Xiao to get to the point, but her training wouldn't allow her to ask.
“Please, eat more.”
Never let a guest down!—This was one of her late mother’s teachings: never initiate a request. You must wait for the other person to open their mouth. Until then, you must do your utmost to serve the guest, setting your own needs aside. This is the fundamental etiquette of entertaining.
(Mother, I understand.)
Xiuli poured the tea with deliberate, unhurried care. Jinglan, likewise, continued to add steamed buns to Grand Tutor Xiao's small plate, acting as if nothing unusual had happened.
Grand Tutor Xiao glanced at Shao Ke, who noticed the gaze and returned it with a smile tinged with pride. Look, the smile seemed to say, these two children are perfectly behaved.
After a moment of silence, Grand Tutor Xiao coughed lightly and set down his teacup.
“——Miss Xiuli, Lady Jinglan! Please forgive me for this uninvited visit. I have a request to make of the two of you.”
Hearing this, Xiuli and Jinglan immediately straightened their backs.
“If you two are willing to take on this task—I will pay you.”
Grand Tutor Xiao then stretched out his withered right hand.
When he mentioned money, Jinglan was momentarily dumbfounded, but Xiuli’s reaction was entirely different. Because she managed the family's finances, she couldn't afford to be coy. She responded while her mind raced, calculating the possibilities.
“—Excuse me, how much is the reward? Fifty taels of copper coins? Five hundred taels of copper coins?... Could it possibly be... five taels of silver?”
Grand Tutor Xiao offered a proud smile, yet hesitated to nod. Xiuli felt her palms begin to sweat. ...Could this be a massive undertaking...!?
Sensing the strange, charged atmosphere, Shao Ke and Jinglan quietly retreated a step.
Grand Tutor Xiao’s eyes widened, nearly shouting the final figure. “Are you prepared?”
“—Five hundred taels of gold!”
Xiuli’s eyes changed drastically; she couldn't believe the figure. That amount could feed a family of five for ten years—plus the cost of maintaining and repairing their sprawling, dilapidated mansion, plus a few small daily indulgences—meaning it could easily provide for a daily diet of pure white rice.
“I’ll take it—!! I’ll do anything you ask!”
No more wheat rice! No more frantically catching leaks with buckets in the rain! That was all she could think of now.
“Then!”
Grand Tutor Xiao didn't ask Xiuli if she was sure; uncertainty would be fatal now.
“Lord Jinglan has recently been promoted to the Imperial Guards, serving as His Majesty’s personal bodyguard.”
The promotion jumped several ranks in a single breath, and Jinglan momentarily wondered if he had misheard.
Then, Grand Tutor Xiao announced to Xiuli in a stern, definitive tone:
“—Miss Xiuli, please enter the harem and become a Princess.”
Xiuli’s expression at that moment was a unique and unparalleled spectacle, which is how Jinglan would describe it in his later reminiscences.
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