Chapter 9
The next morning, a light rain drizzled down from the sky.
The shadows of the trees swayed outside the window, and the light in the room was somewhat dim.
However, it was cooler than usual.
Song Jiyun tidied herself up, stood in the hall, and enjoyed the cross breeze.
Song Sanliang arrived.
From a distance, he called out to Song Jiyun, “Are you ready? The sooner we go, the sooner we can return. Delays could bring trouble.”
Song Jiyun, however, did not move.
She said, “Third Uncle, after you left yesterday, I remembered that when Father passed, Registrar Wang seemed to have come to pay his respects. So I asked the ceremonial hall to bring the gift ledger for me to take a look.”
Song Sanliang’s expression stiffened.
“And then I called the former accountant who managed the ledger to come over last night,” Song Jiyun said expressionlessly.
“I found that Father had quite a close relationship with Registrar Wang.”
“Re-really?” Song Sanliang stammered.
Song Jiyun nodded. “Third Uncle, I feel that it’s inappropriate to just go and withdraw the silver like this.”
Song Sanliang didn’t dare breathe too loudly and asked, “Why not?”
Song Jiyun replied with concern, “Isn’t there a saying, ‘when the person is gone, the tea grows cold’? My father has passed, and the relationship with Registrar Wang is probably severed. Although this time Registrar Wang is extorting our family, it might also be an opportunity to get closer to him!”
Looking at her, Song Sanliang thought she must have lost her mind.
Song Jiyun continued, “I asked the former accountant, and he said Registrar Wang is a man of integrity and fairness. He doesn’t like gold, silver, or antiques but has a preference for calligraphy and paintings. I think when you go to see Registrar Wang this time, you should take a painting with you.”
“Right, right, right,” Song Sanliang snapped back to his senses and quickly said, “Do you have a good painting here, my dear niece? Hand it to me, and I’ll bring it along.”
What a good deal this was!
His gaze toward Song Jiyun softened with some affection.
“If it were gold, silver, or antiques, I’d certainly have plenty here. But as for paintings,” Song Jiyun said thoughtfully,
“Third Aunt’s family are scholars, aren’t they? Didn’t they bring several famous paintings from the previous dynasty as part of her dowry? How about this—we borrow a painting from Third Aunt for now. Whatever it costs, when we withdraw the money, I’ll have them withdraw a little extra and give it to you.”
Song Sanliang, who was notorious for hoarding wealth, instinctively felt uneasy at the suggestion of giving something away.
As she spoke, Song Jiyun brought out a small box made of purple sandalwood inlaid with gold foil and said,
“I’m thinking of our family’s future. The county magistrate is evaluated every three years and rotates often. But the registrar is different—he’s a local, practically a regional overlord.”
Moved by her reasoning, Song Sanliang quickly said, “I was just worried you might think it’s too expensive. Your Third Aunt’s dowry paintings are all worth no less than 2,000 taels.”
Song Jiyun replied, “Even if it’s expensive, the silver isn’t going to anyone else, is it?”
Song Sanliang nodded repeatedly.
Urging him to send someone to retrieve a painting from his wife, Song Jiyun kept him at her place for breakfast.
“There’s no rush. It’s still early, and the silver vault isn’t even open yet.”
Thinking she made sense, Song Sanliang stayed for breakfast.
The meal consisted of buckwheat noodles served with four side dishes and a bowl of vegetarian sauce, all glistening with oil and red from chili peppers.
Song Jiyun ate a small bowl with a good appetite.
When she put down her bowl, the painting had arrived.
Song Sanliang’s eyes were fixed on the small purple sandalwood box inlaid with gold foil that sat on the long table in the main hall.
He asked, “What about the seal?”
“Of course, it’s for you, Third Uncle,” Song Jiyun replied generously, picking up the box to hand it to him.
But at that moment, his personal servant suddenly rushed in, panting heavily, and said,
“Third Master, Registrar Wang has sent his assistant to find you. He’s waiting at the side gate!”
Stunned, Song Sanliang turned to look at Song Jiyun, who calmly placed the box back on the long table and said,
“Then you’d better hurry, Third Uncle! If you’re late and Registrar Wang gets angry, he might seal off our house. I’ll take the seal to the silver vault and meet you at the county office.”
She then called out loudly to Madam Zheng, “Hurry, prepare my sedan chair! I’ll follow Third Uncle to the silver vault.”
Still somewhat uneasy, Song Sanliang was nonetheless rushed by the servant and left in a fluster.
When Madam Zheng returned from passing on the message, she found her mistress leisurely flipping through the account books and even giving instructions.
“Go and tell the steward in the outer courtyard that the mourning hall must not run out of ice in this hot weather. Have them prepare more.”
Madam Zheng asked, “And Third Master?”
Song Jiyun replied, “I’m an unmarried young lady. How could I run around with Third Master everywhere?”
Madam Zheng didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
She decided to tell her about the funeral arrangements for Second Master Song Youliang.
“Last night, I overheard some servants at the back gate saying that when Mr. Han came to deliver the portrait of the master, not only was the promised reward reduced from ten taels to eight, but there was no mention of the customary gifts—a bolt of mourning silk and a bolt of yellow silk as a thank-you.
“Mr. Han, being a scholar, couldn’t say anything rude, but he was so upset his face turned red and he left without joining the meal.
“That Mr. Han is a painter for the imperial kiln. If the family continues to behave like this, they’ll offend everyone.
“People don’t care who’s running the household; they only recognize the mourning host. We’re the ones who’ll suffer.”
She continued to complain about other matters.
“A bolt of water-sheen silk costs only three taels and four qian, enough to make dozens of mourning handkerchiefs. But Eldest Master insists on replacing it with mourning silk.
“Mourning silk is only one tael and three qian cheaper than water-sheen silk.
“I’m worried he’ll use mourning silk instead of water-sheen silk to make mourning clothes for the cousins who come back to honor Second Master.
“It would be so embarrassing for our in-laws.”
Song Jiyun laughed in exasperation.
She had planned to visit the mourning hall to offer incense to her father but now had to deal with these issues.
Busy with one thing after another, it was already noon by the time she finished admonishing her uncle.
Despite the maids fanning her occasionally, she still felt sticky and wanted to take a bath.
Suddenly, there was a commotion outside, accompanied by shouts of alarm.
Frightened by Third Master’s lies, Madam Zheng’s face turned pale with fear.
But Song Jiyun remained calm, soothing her with a reassuring pat on the hand.
She sent a young maid to investigate.
After a long while, the maid returned, pale-faced, and reported,
“Young Miss, Third Master was beaten thirty strokes by Registrar Wang and was sent back, bloodied and battered. Third Mistress is crying her heart out, and they’ve carried him to Old Madam’s place. Even Second Mistress was alarmed and went to Old Madam’s as well.”
Song Jiyun dismissed the maid and coldly remarked, “Only thirty strokes? That’s too light. I wonder if he’s learned his lesson.”
She stood up and said to Madam Zheng, “Let’s go. It’s time for us to make an appearance.”
Inside the silk cabinet, the man lying leisurely on the small couch turned his body to look out the window.
All he saw was a straight, resolute figure walking away.
—
Read More at – GENZNOVEL.COM!!
PLEASE JOIN OUR DISCORD AND SUBSCRIBE THE ROLE TO RECEIVE LATEST NOTIFICATIONS!!
Click here -> https://discord.gg/S8c2kGVr2g
Comment