Chapter Twenty-Six: The Art of Angling

"Qin'er has committed insubordination. Pick a day to expel her from the manor," Qiu Wanyue's gentle words sealed Qin'er's fate.

Though her words were mild, banishment from the manor was no trivial matter. Life at the manor was simple, but it was peaceful and free from worry. The masters were easy to serve, and their kindness to the servants was unmatched by any other household.

"Xue'er, your eloquence is truly admirable—even I must concede that," Qiu Wanyue said, her mood lightened after settling Qin'er's matter.

She rarely cared to meddle in the petty intrigues of the household, but if something displeased her, she had no qualms about reordering things, even at the expense of old affections.

"I was merely speaking to the point, Mother. Forgive me for making light of the matter," Xue Xue replied, unruffled by praise or blame.

"Mother, Mother! I didn’t see you at all last night—where did you go?" As they spoke, a small figure came running over, her clear voice carrying from afar.

Today she wore a soft pink jacket, her hair tied into two cute buns adorned with pink ribbons, making her look all the more sweet and lovable.

She ran into the front hall and, without hesitation, threw herself into Xue Xue’s arms, clinging to her leg with affectionate delight.

“All right, your father and grandmother are both watching,” Xue Xue patted her daughter’s head, a gentle expression on her face, the very picture of maternal grace.

“Come here, little one,” Qiu Wanyue beckoned to her, lifting the little red fox in her lap. “Don’t you love Little Li? You can come give him a hug.”

Sure enough, the child glanced at the red fox, her face lighting up with fondness. The fox, too, gazed at her with those captivating eyes. But after a brief exchange, the child looked away, then up at Xue Xue and Ji Wuqing, and decisively hugged Xue Xue tighter. “I still like hugging Mother best.”

Her proud little expression made the fox in Qiu Wanyue’s arms yawn dismissively.

That little fox was Qiu Wanyue’s own pet—the same mischievous creature that had stolen Xue Xue’s clothes the night before.

After breakfast, the child was finally lured away by the little fox. She was, after all, a child; chasing after the fox, she ran endlessly, her laughter ringing out like bells.

The manor was nestled deep in the mountains, far removed from the bustle of the world—a haven of peace and harmony.

“I suppose I was bored for too long—your arrival has certainly brought life back here,” Qiu Wanyue remarked as she watched the little one chase the fox.

Normally, the fox was exceedingly clever, always playing tricks on the household. Today, however, it had met its match: before long, the child had caught it, and now held it securely, kneading its soft fur as it submitted in comical defeat.

“To live hidden among the mountains must be filled with many simple pleasures,” Xue Xue murmured, truly savoring this tranquil life where each day began naturally, spent strolling through the woods or fishing by the stream, enjoying life’s simple joys.

“Far more colorful than life at court,” Qiu Wanyue agreed.

Hearing her mother speak so, Xue Xue could not help but feel curious about her mother’s past. Still, she was not one to pry into others’ secrets—she let her questions rest.

In the daylight, the woods were lively with the songs of birds, their clear notes echoing endlessly into the mountain depths.

“Careful—the ground here is strewn with small stones,” Ji Wuqing said, gently taking her hand and guiding her steps with attentive eyes.

Since they had left the manor, both had changed into lighter, simpler clothing, free from the cumbersome trappings of formality.

“It’s the sound and scent of the stream,” Xue Xue remarked as Ji Wuqing led her to their destination, taking in the lush trees, the dense undergrowth, the heavy moisture in the air mingled with the fresh, distinct aroma of plants.

It was only then she realized they had come to fish. Ji Wuqing had already prepared everything: fishing rods, baskets, and lively bait.

Fishing—something she had always longed to try.

Fishing required the right time and place, and the right frame of mind. One had to choose the location and weather carefully, and above all, maintain patience and calm until the fish finally bit.

She had always assumed fishing was a simple task. Yet, while Ji Wuqing pulled in fish after fish beside her, she received not the slightest tug. In the end, all she managed to catch was a modest-sized crab.

“Actually, fishing is a skill, Xue’er. If you simply wait for the fish to bite, you may wait forever—fish these days are clever, too.” Ji Wuqing called for the basket to be taken away, well satisfied with his catch.

“It seems fishing is a study in itself,” she said, tilting her head. “By your account, Husband, you must fish often.”

“But isn’t that moment when the fish bites the most interesting part?” Ji Wuqing took her hand, leading her slowly back toward the manor.

Xue Xue walked at his side, neither hurried nor slow.

Suddenly, Ji Wuqing stopped, bent down to pluck a wildflower from the path, and handed it to her. “This flower suits you well.”

She accepted the little flower, her face as composed as ever. “What color is it?” She brought it to her nose and inhaled its faint, pleasing scent.

“It’s red—just like the first time I saw you.”

By the time they returned to the manor, the child was already running over, the fox in her arms. “You two snuck out to play without me again!” she declared, cheeks puffed in mock indignation as she stood by Xue Xue’s side.

“Are you angry, Xier?” Ji Wuqing reached out to pinch her cheek. “Look, your mother caught a crab just for you.” He called for the crab to be brought out, and it waved its pincers spiritedly, as if in challenge.

Recalling her solitary catch, Xue Xue was at a loss for words.

“It really is a crab!” Xier exclaimed in delight, her eyes fixed on the crustacean as she tossed the fox aside.

Refusing to be so easily forgotten, the little fox swiped at the crab with its paw, a comical scene that soon had the child’s full attention.

Later, after enjoying a dinner of fish, Qiu Wanyue recounted fishing anecdotes. “Truth be told, it was I who taught Wuqing his fishing skills—not everyone can do what he does.”

“So that’s how it is,” Xue Xue nodded.

“If I have the chance, I’d like to teach you to fish too, Xue’er. It’s truly delightful. Besides, with your intelligence, I’m sure you’d be an excellent student,” Qiu Wanyue said, studying Xue Xue’s serene face, though the final say would rest with Wuqing’s willingness to let her stay.

Opportunity? More often than not, one must create opportunity for oneself, rather than wait for others to grant it.

The leisurely days at the manor passed swiftly, and soon it was time for them to return to the palace.

That day, the weather was clear and bright. The mountains remained tranquil, the birds’ songs echoing as though bidding them farewell.

On the journey back, Xue Xue was accompanied by one less person—Xier. The child had been left at the manor to keep her grandmother company, a decision Xue Xue welcomed. Childhood should be carefree, and the palace was no place for such innocence.

Besides, she was quite content to let Xier play with the little fox all day.

On their return, however, something unusual had occurred: the consort Jin, demoted to concubine, was rumored to have disfigured herself.

At Anxue Palace, everything remained as orderly as Xue Xue had left it, under Taoxin’s careful management. After the journey, she felt the fatigue of travel; following a bath, Taoxin tended to her hair, drying the dark, silky strands with care.

“My lady, your hair is so lovely—smooth and black as satin,” Taoxin exclaimed, then recalled the recent commotion in the palace. “By the way, my lady, Concubine Jin has had a rough time these days.”

“What’s happened?” Xue Xue asked quietly, more out of courtesy than curiosity.

“You wouldn’t believe it. A few days ago, Concubine Jin went to pay her respects to the Empress Dowager with a veil over her face. It was discovered that her complexion had become pitted and uneven. Not terrifying, exactly, but… such a beauty, now so changed.”

“Oh.” Xue Xue nodded indifferently.

“My lady, though Concubine Jin is pitiful, she actually tried to frame you, crying before the Empress Dowager and claiming you’d harmed her out of jealousy. Rumors are flying through the palace that, emboldened by the king’s favor, you secretly attacked the consorts.” Taoxin grew indignant.

Anyone with eyes could see how favored their mistress was—what need would she have to stoop to such pettiness? It was always those who lacked favor who resorted to such tricks. Besides, their queen, though reserved, was not malicious at heart.

“These are baseless rumors, nothing more. There’s no need to trouble yourself over them, nor should anyone else,” Xue Xue replied, unmoved. To concern oneself with every little thing would be exhausting.

“I’m only worried for you, my lady—worried the Empress Dowager might believe Concubine Jin. She hasn’t made a statement yet, but she did reward Concubine Jin with many beauty remedies, saying she’d wait until your return to deal with the matter.” Taoxin was uneasy.

The Empress Dowager was not usually one to interfere in such affairs, and yet…

“With me here, what is there to fear?” Sensing Taoxin’s anxiety, Xue Xue smiled.

“My lady, I… I suppose I’m just overthinking,” Taoxin admitted, a little embarrassed.

No sooner had Xue Xue been back half a day than the Empress Dowager sent for her. It was Eunuch Yundao, the Empress Dowager’s trusted attendant, who arrived—treating Xue Xue with utmost respect. Everyone knew how favored the queen was and dared not slight her.

Without delay, Xue Xue composed herself, gathered her attendants, and followed Eunuch Yundao to Huizhai.