Chapter 033: You Are Very Good-Looking

Xue Rui arrived at the Hu residence with a heavy heart.

After knocking, the side door opened in response.

It was Old Jia, the gatekeeper of the Hu household, who, upon seeing Xue Rui, hurriedly welcomed him inside.

Closing the door, Old Jia said to Xue Rui, “Young Master Xue, the master instructed that you should go directly to the study when you arrive. He has something to discuss with you.”

“Thank you, uncle.”

Xue Rui had visited several times and was already quite familiar with the place. He didn’t wait for a servant to lead the way and went straight to the study.

Inside, Hu Zhongzheng was bent over a booklet, while Hu Ying’er sat upright to one side, her expression tinged with worry.

As soon as Xue Rui entered, he barely paused for formalities before blurting out anxiously, “Grandmaster, there’s new word from the front—Lord Cheng and Lord Yongshun led forty thousand men in an offensive, but fell into a Wala ambush. The entire army was wiped out.”

“I already know. Sit down first,” Hu Zhongzheng replied, glancing up at him. He set aside the booklet and asked Hu Ying’er to pour tea.

Unexpectedly, Hu Ying’er remained unmoved, glaring at him instead.

Only then did Xue Rui remember he had once said that, within the study, Hu Ying’er was his teacher—how could a teacher pour tea for her student?

“I’ll help myself,” he said, rising to pour his own cup. He then reminded, “Grandmaster, the court has lost so many soldiers in quick succession—the danger ahead is real. I think we should begin preparations early.”

He spoke thus to subtly warn Hu Zhongzheng: if the remaining army suffered another defeat and left the capital vulnerable, the Wala would invade the heart of the capital, so the Hu family ought to make preparations and not be caught off guard.

But such things could not be stated outright; he could only hint.

Hu Ying’er didn’t think it was so dire, frowning as she said, “It’s only a few tens of thousands lost—we still have an army of over a hundred thousand. How could it come to that?”

“I fear even those hundred thousand may not suffice,” Xue Rui replied, shaking his head.

Hu Zhongzheng misunderstood, thinking Xue Rui referred to who would bear responsibility after such a defeat. He handed the booklet to Xue Rui. “Take a look at this.”

Xue Rui opened it. It was last month’s log from the Astronomical Observatory, each celestial observation stamped by the official responsible.

At the last entry was Hu Zhongzheng’s own divination for that record.

Xue Rui leafed through and paused at the entry for the thirteenth day of the seventh month:

“Seventh month, Renchen day, night. The stars of the Purple Tenuity Palace were seen to move!”

This ominous sign had appeared the very night news of the emperor’s personal campaign came. Hu Zhongzheng had written, “A most dire omen. The campaign does not bode well; arms should be stayed,” and stamped it with his own seal, clearly opposing the military expedition.

Yet, curiously, someone had drawn a red X over this entry and written: “After comparison with logs submitted by officials from the capital and surrounding counties, no anomaly was observed with the Purple Tenuity stars on the night of the seventh month, Renchen day. This record is in error.”

This annotation, too, bore a seal. Xue Rui examined it closely—astonishingly, it was the signature of Supervisor Peng Deqing.

“Grandmaster, are you worried that the army’s defeats might implicate you?” Xue Rui suddenly understood after reading for a while.

“Exactly.” Hu Zhongzheng stroked his beard. “After such disastrous losses, there will surely be a reckoning. As the chief astrologer, responsible for reading the heavens and divining fortune and misfortune, I failed to submit a forceful remonstrance when His Majesty led the campaign, despite the objections of the entire civil court. When blame is assigned, I will surely be impeached. This document is my proof of innocence.”

“Grandmaster, Peng Deqing invalidated this entry—whether or not it was under orders—if blame is sought, couldn’t he be charged with concealing an omen?”

“That is precisely what I meant to say.” Hu Zhongzheng gazed at Xue Rui, sighing. “The movement of the Purple Tenuity stars truly occurred. Peng Deqing dismissed the record simply because it was not observed in the capital’s counties, which is against proper protocol.

If the army had triumphed and His Majesty returned victorious, no one would pursue this matter. But now, with defeat upon defeat, this annotation can be turned against him. When His Majesty returns to the capital, it will be Peng Deqing’s head that rolls!”

“That is wonderful news indeed.”

It was the best news he’d heard in weeks.

His father’s imprisonment was inseparable from Peng Deqing’s machinations.

Now, having thoroughly offended Peng Deqing’s son, the feud between their families was irreconcilable. If Peng Deqing never returned, so be it. But should he come back safely, he would surely seek revenge for his son, and Xue Rui would suffer terribly.

But now, with this record as evidence, when the court seeks scapegoats after the disaster at Tumubao, they need only accuse Peng Deqing of concealing a heavenly omen that led to the catastrophe, and he would be doomed beyond hope.

After discussing the current situation, Hu Zhongzheng, feeling fatigued, retired to rest, leaving the study to Xue Rui and Hu Ying’er for their studies.

The Mid-Autumn Festival, also called the Festival of Reunion, signified the gathering of families.

Thinking about the Liu family and their servants at home, Xue Rui studied for an hour, but did not stay for dinner at the Hu residence and took his leave early.

As he was leaving, Hu Ying’er asked Jin’er to bring a box of pastries—the family cook had made them—so he could share them with Madam Liu at home.

By right, he should have brought a festival gift for Hu Zhongzheng, but he’d been too distracted after work to remember. Now, with Hu Ying’er presenting him with pastries, he felt rather embarrassed.

After repeatedly expressing his thanks, Xue Rui exited through the side door.

He hadn’t gone far before he turned back and called to Hu Ying’er, “You look wonderful in your dress today—you look beautiful.”

With that, he dashed away.

Inside the side door, Hu Ying’er’s face turned scarlet at his words. Twisting her handkerchief, her slender frame trembled with the motion.

It was the Mid-Autumn Festival, and she’d specially dressed in a festive, brightly embroidered red robe, adorned with beautiful patterns that lent her an air of nobility—her looks and bearing rivaled any daughter of a great house.

Not only did Xue Rui think she looked lovely; even Hu Ying’er herself had lingered before her bronze mirror while dressing, unable to tear herself away.

Earlier, in the study, Xue Rui had been so absorbed in discussing court affairs with her grandfather that he’d scarcely glanced at her.

She had thought he hadn’t noticed her special attire; yet, as he left, he had praised her in front of others, so directly that her heart nearly stopped.

She had rarely seen any men outside her family, let alone been so directly complimented.

Hearing Xue Rui speak so unexpectedly, she was utterly at a loss, her usual wit deserting her.

Jin’er, who witnessed the whole scene, had never encountered such a situation; it took her a while to react. Outraged, she said, “Young Master Xue is far too forward—flirting with you, miss! You mustn’t let it upset you. If you’re truly angry, I’ll go straight to the master and have him defend your honor—hmph!”

“You mustn’t!” Hu Ying’er quickly stopped her.

“Why not, miss? Are you softhearted? Men like him must be kept at a distance, or your reputation will suffer.”

Jin’er puffed up her cheeks in anger, looking like a little hamster with its mouth full.

“Let it go. It’s Mid-Autumn, after all—let’s forgive him this once. When he comes tomorrow, I’ll strike his palm with a ruler so he’ll remember not to be so audacious again,” Hu Ying’er said, regaining her composure.

“Very well, but you must strike hard, miss, so he learns his lesson,” Jin’er reminded her earnestly.

“Of course,” Hu Ying’er replied absently, though her mind lingered on Xue Rui’s compliment.

For some reason, though she couldn’t say she liked such bold, improper words, she found she didn’t dislike them either…