Chapter 288: Hello Chang'an
Chapter 288: No Wonder She Is Her Sister Chang
It was strange — she was clearly talking about apricot blossoms, yet he somehow instantly understood what she truly meant, as if he could hear the thoughts within her heart.
And this feeling was far from the first time.
She recalled what Wu Jue had once said — that Cui Jing was the one who had given her a second chance at life. Facing such an unpredictable and mysterious notion, where anything seemed possible, Chang Suining’s mind began to drift.
This “chance”… what kind of chance was it? Was there some inexplicable bond between them she was unaware of? Could it be that he truly sensed her thoughts somehow?
At the thought, Chang Suining’s gaze grew wary. She tentatively asked,
“Cui Jing, is there nothing you wish to say to me?”
That night at the Celestial Maiden Tower, when he had come to bid her farewell in silence, he had already hinted that he knew her secret.
But it had not been convenient to speak of it then, so she told him instead that when he returned to the capital, she would host a banquet and wait for him — implying that when they met again, they would discuss it privately.
To her, that had been their unspoken agreement.
Since their reunion, they’d had opportunities to speak alone, yet for some reason, Cui Jing had never brought it up.
Some words need not be spoken — as long as both understood, that was enough. Suining had not been bothered by his silence… until this sudden, uncertain thought crept into her mind.
She had always been one who prized knowing both herself and her counterpart; now, she truly wished to understand whether Cui Jing, as her so-called “fated benefactor,” shared with her some hidden, inexplicable connection.
And so, it was better to lay it all out clearly.
Facing her question, Cui Jing nodded.
“There is.”
He did have something to say to her.
Chang Suining looked around, searching for a quiet spot to talk — but before she could speak again, he said,
“Three days later.”
She blinked. “Why? Is there some special meaning to that?”
Cui Jing didn’t look at her; his gaze turned instead to the apricot blossoms.
“You’ll understand then.”
“…”
Suining nearly put her hands on her hips to sigh, or rolled up her sleeves in exasperation — but she restrained herself.
If she kept pressing, it would only make her seem impatient. In terms of composure, she refused to lose to anyone.
Three days it would be, then. It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t live to see that time.
Sensing her internal struggle, Cui Jing tilted his head slightly toward the blossoms, a faint smile curving his lips.
This did not escape her sharp eyes. “What are you smiling at?”
Could this scoundrel truly be hearing her thoughts?!
“Nothing.” Cui Jing’s eyes shifted past the apricot blossoms to the moon half-veiled behind the clouds.
“The moon looks beautiful tonight.”
Suining followed his gaze. To her, the moon looked perfectly ordinary — especially when she was preoccupied with the suspicion that the man beside her could read her mind.
Under such doubts, she said coolly, “If you’ve nothing more to say, then I’ll return first.”
“Very well,” said Cui Jing. “You’re still recovering from your wounds — best get some rest early.”
“…”
With his cryptic “three days later,” she was supposed to rest peacefully?
Suppressing her irritation, she waved her hand, turned, and left with Xi’er and the others.
Cui Jing’s eyes softened, lingering on her retreating figure, the faintest smile hidden beneath his calm expression.
All the way back, Chang Suining frowned in thought, but eventually forced herself to stop.
She would have her answer in three days — overthinking before then would only invite trouble.
Self-control — that she still possessed.
To distract herself, she turned her thoughts elsewhere. Ahead, another apricot tree stood in full bloom.
Apricot blossoms in bloom — the examination list would soon be posted.
This year’s Imperial Examinations, freed at last from the grasp of the powerful aristocratic clans, were presided over by her own teacher. It was destined to be unlike any before — a new dawn for the Da Sheng Dynasty.
As Suining walked, countless faces of struggling scholars from humble families flashed through her mind.
She believed that among the names on that apricot list, she would see those familiar to her.
Still, guessing the order of names was always a thrill — who would claim the top rank this year?
Who would become the champion of the Imperial Examinations?
Not only Suining — the entire capital was abuzz with the same curiosity. Wagers had been placed throughout the city.
Yet before the names were revealed, another piece of news spread that stirred far greater excitement.
Inside the Wu Residence in the capital, a young lady of the family listened to her maid’s excited report, her eyes bright with delight.
“…Truly?”
“Absolutely true!” The maid beamed. “It’s already spreading everywhere!”
Wu Chunbai’s spirits soared. She immediately set down her bamboo brush, stepping out from behind her writing desk.
“Hurry, help me change.”
Before long, properly dressed, the Wu family’s young lady left her quarters with her maid, both visibly pleased.
“It’s truly worth celebrating!” the maid said eagerly as they walked.
“How so?”
From an intersecting corridor came a man — her elder brother, Wu Zhaobai, who had long since married.
Wu Chunbai paused, raising her brows and looking at him coolly.
He eyed her carefully and guessed, “What, did that young man from the Qu family pass the examinations?”
He referred to the young scholar Wu Chunbai had met last winter — one who was sitting for this year’s exams. Today was the day the Ministry of Rites would post the results on the Apricot List.
Wu Chunbai smiled faintly. “How should I know whether he passed or not?”
They had only met once — no engagement had even been set. Whether he passed or failed mattered little to her. There were other, far greater matters deserving her attention.
Wu Zhaobai frowned. “Then why are you so cheerful?”
She arched a brow, her smile sharpening.
“Seeing that all your gloomy predictions have turned out wrong — how could I not be pleased?”
Wu Zhaobai’s face darkened. “What do you mean by that?”
Wu Chunbai merely bowed politely and continued on her way with her maid.
“You—!” He was furious, pointing after her retreating figure — but knowing he could not call her back without losing face, he turned instead to question two servants preparing the carriage nearby.
“Where is the young lady going?”
“To the Lingyin Pavilion, young master.”
At those words, Wu Zhaobai’s eyelids twitched violently.
Music from the Lingyin Pavilion was said to be heavenly — once his favorite quiet retreat. But ever since that Chang family girl had defeated a scholar there in a match of chess, the place had become a shrine to her admirers!
First it had been students from the Imperial Academy and members of her Wuer Society who sang her praises; then, to his disgust, his own sister had joined a group of infatuated noblewomen, holding “poetry gatherings” there from time to time.
Poetry gatherings! He had once eavesdropped on one. Ten lines out of every dozen were about that Chang girl — whether in verse or painting, all centered around her. Their words were so exaggerated, so intoxicated, as if they’d been fed on illusionary elixirs — utterly corrupting the spirit of the arts!
And yet, their works — those foolish, idolizing verses — spread like wildfire, celebrated across the capital, while his own painstaking compositions were met with silence.
He could only lament how absurd and diseased the world’s taste had become.
He had endured it — until that Chang girl was granted the title of General of Ningyuan.
After that, their frenzy grew unbearable.
Their “poetry gatherings” only became grander, the ranks of her devotees multiplying beyond count!
And now, his shameless sister was heading there again today — could it be…
Recalling her earlier words about his “sour predictions falling flat,” Wu Zhaobai felt a growing sense of dread.
He snapped to the servants, “Have there been any new reports of that so-called General of Ningyuan?”
The servant quickly replied, somewhat excited, “Just heard, sir! They say General of Ningyuan led her troops to a great victory over Xu’s army on the Bian River — a single battle to decide it all! She personally struck down the rebel leader herself!”
Even the servant could not keep the awe from his tone — for this was a triumph destined to be written into the annals of history.
And indeed, the entire capital was already boiling with excitement, the air itself ready to burst.
Wu Zhaobai, however, felt himself explode instead — his ears rang, his mind went blank.
“…Impossible.”
How could she suddenly appear by the Bian River—how could she possibly have killed Xu Zhengye herself!
His friends had already analyzed it many times. That proclamation she wrote was clearly nothing more than an act of showmanship. When they were drunk, they even laughed and said that if she truly killed Xu Zhengye, they would go bareheaded and naked to Laiting Lane, where old eunuchs who once served in the palace still lived, and have themselves castrated—so they too could become those so-called “heaven-bearing women”!
After confirming the news was true, Wu Zhaobai returned to his residence in a daze. He drank several cups of wine and then began to wail out a poem.
His wife signaled the wet nurse to take their four-year-old child away.
Her husband’s drunkenness was one thing—but his poetry was dreadful. She feared it might corrupt their son’s early learning.
Once the child had gone, she stepped forward to console him.
Wu Zhaobai clutched the wine jar and raised his voice:
“Think of me—Wu Zhaobai—a man of seven feet, born to a family of scholars! My grandfather once served as the Head Master of the Imperial Academy, my father now holds the position of Minister of the Ministry of Rites, overseeing the nation’s ancestral ceremonies!”
His wife patted his shoulder and sighed. True enough—yet this seven-foot man still hadn’t managed to pass even the provincial examination.
Wu Zhaobai turned to meet his wife’s sympathetic gaze, and suddenly burst into tears, throwing himself into her arms in a flood of self-pity.
“I am my father’s only son, the sole heir of the Wu family line for three generations…”
His wife sighed again. That, indeed, was about the only thing he could still boast of.
“Yet Grandfather has never favored me! His heart has always been set on Chunbai!”
She sighed once more and continued to pat his shoulder. What could be done? The old man did have eyes, after all.
“She’s just a girl who will one day marry out! How could Grandfather be so foolish? Clearly, I am the rightful pillar of the Wu family’s future!”
She sighed again—but even that might not be true. Their own son was already four years old; perhaps he would grow up to be the family’s pillar instead.
Wu Zhaobai cried even harder, pointing outside as he spoke through his sobs:
“Since Chunbai was five, I’ve never been able to lift my head in this household! Even my friends mock me behind my back, saying that if she were a man, there’d be no place left for me at all!”
The young wife could scarcely summon another sigh. Not a word of his own failures or incompetence ever left his lips.
“Chunbai is the famed talented woman of the capital, while I have become in Grandfather’s eyes nothing but a rotten scholar beyond saving!”
“She used to have a few redeeming qualities—but now look! Ever since that girl from the Chang family drew the Tiger Painting at Dengtai Tower and became famous, Chunbai’s heart has grown wild! She’s become more and more defiant of her elder brother, gathering countless women to act madly together. I say they’re all ready to overturn Heaven itself!”
With that, he smashed the wine jar to pieces.
“What victory by the Bian River? Who can say that it was truly her own merit?”
“Heaven and earth reversed, order undone—there shall be no place left for us men to display our ambition! The Da Sheng Dynasty is doomed!”
“Please, husband, mind your words!” his wife finally spoke, hastily covering his mouth. “Beware, lest misfortune come from your tongue!”
Besides—what nonsense! Was there truly no chance for men? The names on today’s Apricot List were all men, were they not? If he had no talent, why blame the world? The one going mad was clearly him!
Wu Zhaobai pried her hand away in protest. “What I said is the truth!”
“I know,” his wife said softly, “just as Chunbai often says—‘Even the Holy Emperor is a woman; that alone proves women are no less than men.’”
He gritted his teeth. “What does she understand? Nothing but the surface! The Holy Emperor ascended to the throne only because of the late Crown Prince’s merits!
“The late Crown Prince was no woman! All those accomplishments cannot be credited to any woman!”
“When the Holy Emperor first entered the palace, she was nothing but a low-ranked talented lady! First she rose by her son’s merit, then by luck—nothing more than a woman carried upward by chance!
“Had the Crown Prince not died young, how could it ever have been her turn—”
Slap!
A sharp sound cut him off mid-sentence.
Wu Zhaobai stared at his wife in shock. “You… you dare strike me?”
“How could I dare?” she replied quickly, face full of distress, reaching to touch his cheek. “Just now a fly landed on your face—your concubine panicked and struck it away, that’s all…”
He stood frozen, dazed and uncertain, unable to tell truth from falsehood.
His wife, calm again, fetched another jar of wine and poured him a cup. “I know well your great ambitions, husband…”
She held the cup to his lips, and he drank mechanically.
Another cup—“When all are drunk, you alone remain sober…”
“Your day will come, husband…”
Cup after cup, until he was completely drunk, unable to form another coherent word.
She set down the jar, brushed her sleeves, and called the servants in to tend him.
Then she went straight to report his dangerous words and actions to the old master of the Wu family.
Old Master Wu rubbed his temples and ordered that Zhaobai be confined for three months.
Every year around this time, the Huichun Hall’s business thrived—spring always brought people more anxieties.
And with the Apricot List now published, his useless grandson’s envy would surely flare up again.
A sickness of jealousy must be treated by keeping away from light—best to lock him up for now.
While Wu Zhaobai lay drunken and confined, Wu Chunbai had just arrived at the Lingyin Hall.
The streets were packed; carriages could barely move. The crowds were even livelier than during the New Year.
Wu Chunbai heard people joyfully spreading the news of Xu Zhengye’s death—some even set off firecrackers. Among the cheering voices, one name kept echoing: General Ningyuan.
Of course, everyone was also talking excitedly about the new names on the Apricot List.
When she stepped into Lingyin Hall, she happened to hear a few scholars discussing this year’s first-place scholar.
“…It’s that Song Xian—Scholar Song!”
“The very one who lost a game of chess to General Ningyuan last year?”
“The same!”
Wu Chunbai couldn’t help but cover her lips and smile.
No wonder she is her Sister Chang.
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