Chapter Fifty-Three: Promotion-Medical Residence: First-Class(Delicate hands gently pluck a blossom.)

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Under Wen Jing's attentive care, Leng Yijun’s condition had improved considerably. Though she still flinched at the sight of Ji Changge, at least she no longer screamed hysterically. She depended greatly on Wen Jing, taking medicine only if it was brought by her hand, and would wail for her if she awoke to find her gone.

“Seventh Lady, you’ve worked hard.” Ji Changge looked at the sleeping Leng Yijun.

“It’s nothing. I have time to spare, and Miss Leng is truly a girl worthy of respect. If I were a man and she was willing, I would certainly marry her,” Wen Jing replied, gazing at Leng Yijun.

Ji Changge was taken aback, slightly surprised. Wen Jing’s words always allowed him to see her in a new light.

“Your family has been away from the capital for several months… Has anything… happened?”

Wen Jing’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at Ji Changge and said, “My lord, have you ever heard a Buddhist saying: ‘Delusion and awakening all stem from the mind; the mind is the gate of joy and suffering. Wisdom transforms all things, and every step gives rise to a lotus blossom.’”

“I have heard it.” Ji Changge curved his lips in a faint smile, his heart at ease.

“What does my lord intend for Miss Leng?”

“Tomorrow, I’ll return to the capital and entrust her to my former music teacher. Miss Leng is highly skilled in music, and Master Zhuyi cherishes talent above all. He lives a reclusive life, which is ideal for her convalescence,” Ji Changge explained.

“I shall await good news from my lord,” Wen Jing replied.

Ji Changge felt a pang of melancholy. Compared to his departure, what she truly cared about was perhaps only when he would fulfill his promise.

“Safe travels.”

By the time he turned, she had vanished around the corner. A gust of wind swept by, tossing her dark hair, the hem of her skirt flashing out of sight—a silhouette resolute and distant.

Ji Changge suddenly recalled the past. Back then, she must have watched him leave just like this, while he had been eager to go. Her pain, he realized now, must have been a hundredfold greater than his own.

The mind is the gate of joy and suffering. The gate of joy and suffering…

***

The next day.

“Lord Ji, you have official duties. I won’t keep you any longer. Next time, let’s drink to our hearts’ content,” Wen Qiran said with a laugh.

Ji Changge smiled wryly and rubbed his head. Last night was likely the only time in his life he’d ever drunk himself into oblivion, and even now, his head throbbed unbearably. In contrast, Wen Qiran was still lively as ever—his drinking capacity, it seemed, was far inferior to the old man’s.

“Lord Wen, the next time won’t be long coming.” Ji Changge cast a meaningful glance at Wen Jing.

Wen Qiran laughed dismissively, “Then I’ll prepare the wine in advance.”

“It’s getting late, Lord Wen. You should go as well. Farewell.” Ji Changge cupped his hands in parting.

“Very well. Lord Ji, safe journey.”

Ji Changge boarded the carriage. Uncle Quan climbed onto the driver’s seat, cracked his whip, and the carriage sped off.

“Lord Ji, safe journey!”

Voices rang out in unison behind him. Ji Changge lifted the curtain and glanced back, discovering a crowd of townsfolk waving at him. He paused, surprised, then smiled and waved back.

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Wen Jing listened in astonishment to the thunderous cheers beside her—it was no different from modern fans idolizing their favorite stars. Ji Changge was their hero.

“If only my daughter could marry Lord Ji, even as a concubine, I’d be content.”

“Indeed! A gentleman like Lord Ji must be a literary star descended from the heavens.”

Hearing the two aunts beside her heap such unabashed praise, Wen Wuniang blushed. Even as a concubine… Those words set her heart aflutter.

“Father, I thought you didn’t like Young Lord Ning?” Wen Baniang whispered.

Wen Qiran flushed, coughed twice, and said, “It was all a misunderstanding before. Lord Ji is a talented young man, solving case after case. I admire him greatly—he’s a fine fellow. If only he could…”

“Could what?” Wen Baniang asked hopefully.

Wen Qiran turned even redder. “Nothing, nothing. Children shouldn’t meddle.”

Wen Baniang pouted. Her father always treated her like a child, but even if he wouldn’t say it, she could tell he wanted nothing more than to share a celebratory cup with his future son-in-law.

***

After Ji Changge’s departure, Wen Jing instructed Qingshuang and Madam Wu to begin packing. She was certain Ji Changge would keep his promise. The reward she had asked for was Wen Qiran’s promotion. She could see that her father was not happy here, and aside from herself, no one else seemed to enjoy life in this place. So, when Ji Changge had asked her to perform the autopsy, she thought there was nothing else she wanted and proposed this request instead—never expecting Ji Changge to agree so easily.

Ten days passed quickly, life going on as usual. Wen Jing no longer held out hope; after all, the Ministry of Appointments did not belong to the Duke of Ning’s household, and even if Ji Changge failed, she would not blame him. Promotions and transfers were not so easily secured.

Life in the Hanjiang county yamen continued as always, full of endless petty quarrels among neighbors. Wen Qiran endured with patience, waiting for the new magistrate to arrive.

Another half-month slipped by. Wen Jing had nearly forgotten the matter when an official appointment letter suddenly arrived.

Wen Qiran stared in disbelief at the document stamped with the Ministry’s seal, reading it again and again to confirm his name before finally letting out a breath of relief. He had thought he’d spend the rest of his days in Hanjiang, but now, unexpectedly, he could return so soon. The letter cited his meritorious assistance in solving the Dali Court’s case, with Ji Changge’s high praise, and so by Ministry decision, Wen Qiran was appointed to the rank of Court Gentleman, to assume office on an appointed day.

The news quickly spread throughout the yamen. All were overjoyed—except Wen Qiran, who, after his initial happiness, seemed somewhat troubled.

“Father, aren’t you happy?” Wen Shilang looked up at him, longing to return home. The novelty here had worn off, and he missed his old playmates, the delicacies of the capital, as well as his mother and sisters.

“Of course I’m happy. Are you, Shilang?”

Shilang nodded vigorously. “Very happy!”

“Then that’s good. Once we’re packed, we can go home,” Wen Qiran said, ruffling his son’s hair.

“That’s wonderful! I’ll see Mother soon!” Shilang jumped for joy.

Wen Qiran’s smile froze. If not for his son’s mention, he’d have nearly forgotten that woman. He wondered how she’d react to the news—she’d never have expected him to be transferred home so swiftly.

***

After two days of preparations, Wen Qiran handed over the yamen’s affairs to the new magistrate, bringing everything to a proper close.

On the road back to the capital, everyone was full of emotion.

“Every move means leaving things behind. We’d just settled in, and now we’re moving back again. Don’t you think those officials have nothing better to do than toss us women and children around?” Aunt Cui grumbled, fanning herself.

“Don’t want to go back, then? We’re not far out—shall I have the driver stop and let you off?” Wen Qiran retorted.

Aunt Cui hastened to reply, “You wrong me, sir! That’s not what I meant. I only wish you hadn’t been demoted in the first place. Wouldn’t it have been better that way?”

“And what, you think the Ministry belongs to your family?” Wen Qiran shook his head.

Lady Ping gave Aunt Cui a sidelong glance and smiled, “Sir, don’t let her get to you. You know how she likes to chatter nonsense—no point in arguing.”

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Aunt Cui nodded, quietly closing her mouth. She’d thought the master was in a good mood and had prepared a string of compliments, but now saw there was no chance to use them.

Though Lady Ping didn’t know why Wen Qiran was unhappy, she knew it was best to keep silent now; what he hated most was ignorant women gossiping.

In another carriage, Wen Baniang and Wen Wuniang were both overjoyed, while Wen Sanniang still gazed silently out the window, showing neither joy nor sorrow.

Wen Jing, however, felt a vague unease—unlike her usual self. Perhaps it was some lingering consciousness of this body’s former owner. She closed her eyes, and a flood of fragmented memories surged in her mind, though none were clear.

“Seventh Sister, buy me this Suzhou embroidery, please.”

“Seventh Sister, isn’t this jade bracelet beautifully translucent?”

Suddenly, voices echoed in her mind. Wen Jing opened her eyes. Who were these people? They seemed very familiar to the previous owner of this body.

“Seventh Sister, what’s wrong?” Wen Baniang noticed her pale complexion.

“It’s nothing, just a little tightness in my chest,” Wen Jing replied.

“Seventh Lady, have some water.” Qingshuang offered her a flask.

Wen Jing took it, drank a few sips, and decided not to dwell on the past.

By dusk—

“Let’s find an inn to rest,” Wen Qiran ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

The group checked into an inn.

Wen Jing shared a room with Wen Baniang.

“Seventh Sister, we stayed at this very inn last time, probably in this same room too!” Wen Baniang said excitedly.

Wen Jing thought to herself, Last time, I hadn’t even crossed into this world, how would I know if it’s the same room?

Seeing Wen Jing’s blank expression, Wen Baniang suddenly realized, “Back then, you were so ill you must not remember. Silly me.”

Wen Jing didn’t explain, only asked, “Eighth Sister, who was I closest to before?”

Wen Baniang was taken aback, as if she hadn’t expected the question, then replied, “Of course, it was Ninth Sister. Are you missing her?”

Wen Jiuniang—yet she had no memory of this person at all.

“Ninth Sister will be thrilled to see you back. She’s always liked to follow you around, like a little shadow. After being apart for so long, she must miss you terribly.”

“You’ll see her in two days. I’m tired now. You should sleep too—we’ve a long journey tomorrow,” Wen Jing said, yawning.

“Good night, Seventh Sister.” Wen Baniang, exhausted, soon drifted off to sleep, soft snores filling the room.

***

Returning home felt very different from leaving. The journey was not nearly as hard as it had seemed before. With the heat of summer past, the weather was pleasant, and as the capital finally came into view, excitement shone on every face.