There was actually something like that going on?
Zhang Zhixu raised an eyebrow: “Finally turned over a new leaf?”
“Who knows. I keep feeling this woman is no good, the way she’s got him completely bewitched — he’s even been sneaking her into the Court of Judicial Review.”
Xie Lanting had always been unpredictable — there was nothing he could do that would be surprising.
“He at least came and observed the ceremony, so we’ll let him off for now.” He waved with mild indifference, and pushed Yin Fengshi outward: “Go and stand in for me at that table over there.”
Too many guests had come today; too many were using it as an opportunity to work their way into conversations on every side. Zhang Zhixu was exhausted by it all, and took every free moment to hide in the side rooms and listen to Chen Baoxiang and Yinyue chatting.
When the lamps were lit and the night had deepened, the last of the guests dispersed. Zhang Yuanchu, seeing Zhang Zhixu come to see them out, still could not bring himself to say anything conciliatory, and instead fell back on the usual admonishment: “Now that you have your own official residence, you should conduct yourself with greater gravity and propriety.”
Zhang Zhixu’s brow had just barely begun to furrow, and he had not yet responded, when Chen Baoxiang stepped out from beside him and said with a pleasant smile: “The path ahead is dark — let me see Zhang-daren and Madam Gong off.”
Zhang Yuanchu blinked, wanting to say this was against propriety.
But Chen Baoxiang gave him no chance to resist — she firmly took the arms of the two of them, and steered them, along with several of the Zhang clan elders, out the door of her own accord.
Those uncles and great-uncles who had wanted to say a few more things couldn’t even turn back.
Yin Fengshi gave a wine-hiccup and threw his arm around Zhang Zhixu’s shoulder: “Your Commissioner Chen really is formidable when it comes to protecting her own. No wonder you’re so devoted to her.”
Zhang Zhixu shook his hand off with distaste: “Jealous?”
“……How do you come out with these things — you never used to talk like this.” He rubbed his arm and snorted. “One of these days I’m going to round up you and Xie Lanting and scrub out those sugar-soaked brains of yours.”
Zhang Zhixu stood with his hands clasped behind his back, laughing without restraint.
Chen Baoxiang would never let him be rounded up.
·
Late autumn turning to midwinter. The price of salt in Shangjing had been climbing without stop — even Chen Baoxiang, now a marquis of the realm, frowned at the price tags in the market.
“Is this salt made of gold? Two hundred coins for this much?”
Her attendants explained: “There was a collapse at the salt mine, and supply has been disrupted. Prices naturally rise with scarcity.”
“And what about rice, flour, and cooking oil — why have those also doubled?”
“My lady, this year’s harvest was poor. There is nothing to be done.”
Chen Baoxiang scratched her head.
Since His Majesty’s accession, there had been active trade with neighboring states, with salt and grain continuously flowing into Dasheng in large quantities — the Ministry of Revenue had even said the people’s lives were getting better year by year. So how had it come to this, where even her own salary couldn’t keep pace with these expenses?
Thinking it over, she took off her official robes, wrapped herself in a worn padded jacket, and headed into the familiar beggar’s lane.
Li Bingsheng was an Emperor who meant what she said. A few months into the reign, more than twenty new academies had opened in Shangjing, over thirty women officials had taken up posts across the Three Departments, and the Grand Shelter Quarter had been built on a large scale, giving those who had always lived in the underground waterways a place to settle.
But many things could not be entirely changed in a short span of time — private power still jostled against itself, the realm’s legal codes were still being overhauled. And so for the people at the very bottom, life had not changed much in any concrete way. The person sitting on the throne was simply different. Those who couldn’t eat their fill still couldn’t; those who couldn’t find work still couldn’t.
Chen Baoxiang, amid the unbroken complaints rising on every side, smeared ash on her face and folded herself down into the midst of the beggars.