Chapter Eight: Class Begins

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Lan Xiang felt a twinge of worry as she listened to the heart-wrenching cries. Yet, Consort Shu calmly tucked in the Third Princess’s quilt and spoke slowly.

“Don’t pay them any mind. Have you arranged everything that needed to be done?”

“Rest assured, Your Highness. The Seventh Prince will soon believe that Consort Gui abandoned him to save herself.”

“A ruthless blow to the heart—Your Highness, that was a brilliant move!”

Lan Xiang smiled triumphantly, admiring her mistress’s cunning.

Consort Shu curled her lips slightly; after all, she was no fool like the Empress.

The next morning, after the rain had cleared, the air felt fresher though the cold deepened.

The charcoal fire burned brightly in Fengyi Palace, and Feng Wuchen felt a comforting warmth he had scarcely believed possible.

Last winter, his hands and feet had been so frostbitten they were swollen and itching painfully at the joints whenever the cold set in.

“What are you standing there for? Come eat!” Jiang Daiyin called out as she saw the little boy at the doorway and beckoned him in.

“Your son pays respects to the Empress Mother…”

He bowed formally, and Jiang Daiyin waved for him to rise.

“After you eat, come see the tasks Mother has arranged for you.”

At that moment, Feng Wuchen, focused on his meal, felt no fear of the assignments ahead.

His mother had died in childbirth when he was four, so before arriving at Fengyi Palace, he had received some early education.

He recognized most Chinese characters and did not need to start from scratch.

“In the morning, two lessons of language and two of math; in the afternoon, moral education and physical training.”

Jiang Daiyin had her work cut out for her, being the sole teacher for these subjects.

“Practice your strokes—handwriting reveals the person. A good script is one’s best face to the world, so penmanship is very important!”

Jiang Daiyin taught standard script, with neat, clear, and precise strokes.

“Don’t just sit idle—everyone practice along,” she instructed the attendants nearby.

Soon, each had a small desk with ink, brush, paper, and inkstone.

Wintergreen and Summer’s writing was passable, but Spring Rain’s was crooked and uneven.

“Even scattering some rice on paper for the chickens looks better than your writing,” Jiang Daiyin remarked, making Spring Rain blush deeply.

“I really don’t understand why Her Highness wants us to practice calligraphy too,” Spring Rain grumbled.

“It’s never wrong to learn more,” Summer comforted her softly.

Jiang Daiyin shot them a sharp look. “Who’s writing with their mouth, I wonder?” Both quickly fell silent.

The second language session was memorizing the Three Character Classic.

“At the beginning of man, nature is good…”

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Spring Rain yawned continuously as she recited, rubbing her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Open your mouth and read properly! Are your mouths all glued shut?”

Feng Wuchen was the most obedient and read with the greatest effort.

Jiang Daiyin was pleased—there was hope yet.

Poor Spring Rain seemed utterly drained of strength and means.

Math was just simple addition and subtraction, no challenge for Feng Wuchen.

Jiang Daiyin paired them off to quiz each other, and among the four, Spring Rain made the most mistakes.

After lunch and a nap, Jiang Daiyin invited the palace nanny who once served the Emperor to teach moral lessons.

The Emperor, irritated and restless, noticed the Eight Treasures Tea had not arrived today.

Fulin Hai, sensing the Emperor’s mood, pondered briefly before suggesting, “Your Majesty, perhaps I should inquire with the Empress?”

“No need.”

He had long seen through such tactics of feigned disinterest.

“What is the Empress doing today?”

Just as Fulin Hai was about to report, he heard, “Your Majesty, the Empress is currently teaching the Tenth Prince calligraphy, recitation, and arithmetic, and has invited Nanny Rong to instruct on proper conduct.”

“She seems quite at leisure. I will visit Fengyi Palace.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Fulin Hai was somewhat surprised.

The Emperor’s visits to the harem had nearly matched the total for the previous month in just two days.

This was truly a joyous occasion!

When Feng Yu arrived at Fengyi Palace, Jiang Daiyin was already leading them in physical training.

He had given no prior notice and quietly observed their movements.

Jiang Daiyin wore plain clothes, her hair casually tied up, her face unadorned—free of makeup and jewelry, she appeared as pure as a lotus emerging from clear water.

For a moment, Feng Yu was somewhat distracted.

“Iron must be forged to become steel; a person must exercise to be healthy. The body is the foundation of revolution, so we must—”

“Move quickly, and look sharp!”

“The east wind blows, the war drums beat—”

“Who in Fengyi Palace do we fear?”

Jiang Daiyin led the chants, while the four, led by Feng Wuchen, ran laps around the courtyard, shouting slogans as they ran.

Feng Yu’s face darkened. What was this? It felt like military drills.

Had the Empress lost her mind from idleness? For the first time, Feng Yu felt uncertain about his own decisions.

“Take a break, later you’ll pair off for sandbag throwing.”

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After shouting so much, Jiang Daiyin found herself utterly exhausted.

In this ancient time when even a cold could be fatal, having a strong body was so important that she resolved to train herself properly.

“Your Highness, your servant really can’t go on,” Spring Rain gasped, as if about to faint.

“Spring Rain, you’re too weak!” Jiang Daiyin pinched her limp arm.

“Mother, perhaps Spring Rain should rest a while?” Feng Wuchen, however, was not tired at all; his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

“Very well, I’ll lead you all in a game first,” Jiang Daiyin said, not pushing too hard. She explained the rules, then paired up with Feng Wuchen, while Summer teamed with Wintergreen, and the four began tossing sandbags.

Watching the mother and son so joyfully engrossed, Feng Yu seemed touched by their happiness. Laughter echoed softly in his ears, and a fleeting sadness flickered in his eyes before he turned and left.

“Your Majesty, won’t you come inside?” Fulin Hai couldn’t grasp the Emperor’s thoughts.

“Return to the Hall of Nurtured Hearts,” Feng Yu replied flatly, emotion unreadable.

Yet the joyful scene replayed often in his mind—the woman’s blooming smile seemed to stir something deep within him.

“Your Majesty, General Jiang and Young General request an audience.”

“Let them in.”

Rubbing his temples, Feng Yu, perhaps from lack of rest, found his concentration slipping repeatedly.

“Your humble servant pays respects, long live the Emperor.”

General Jiang, accompanied by his son Jiang Yunhui, bowed together.

“Rise,” Feng Yu waved them off and focused intently on the two.

“What is the purpose of your visit, General Jiang?”

“Your Majesty, my wife is ill. Due to her intense longing for our daughter, she wishes for my son and me to visit the Empress in the palace. I humbly ask for Your Majesty’s kindness.”

General Jiang spoke cautiously.

Feng Yu narrowed his eyes, gaze darkening. News traveled fast—shortly after the Empress’s incident, the Jiang family found out.

They evidently had excellent sources.

His expression grew grim. He despised the mingling of palace affairs with those of the previous dynasty. This was likely a message from the Empress.

He nearly allowed himself to be deceived by her appearance.

At Fengyi Palace, Jiang Daiyin stumbled slightly during sandbag throwing.

“Is the Emperor acting strangely again?”

Favorability dropped another hundred points!