053 Sister, help me cross~
Jiang Qingyun looked up, and Li Shuaitai also raised his head. Their eyes met, and they smiled at each other.
“Hehe~”
“Hehehe~”
“Minister Li, I trust you.”
“Then, about the Kolkun matter, brother, you won’t pursue it further?”
“Yes. But may I ask, Minister, what exactly is your relationship with Kolkun?”
“I’m actually not well acquainted with him, but I have a distant cousin who married the second cousin of Kolkun’s maternal family. That’s the connection.”
“A distant relative, then.”
“For such a trivial matter, my cousin comes knocking every few days, kneeling, crying, making a fuss. I really can’t handle it.”
Jiang Qingyun waved his hand magnanimously.
“I understand, very much so.”
“So, this matter is settled then?”
“Settled!”
...
With the main business concluded, Jiang Qingyun grabbed Li Shuaitai’s sleeve.
“Brother Li, don’t refuse today. Let’s take a stroll through the Eight Great Alleys.”
“Impossible, absolutely impossible.”
Li Shuaitai declined repeatedly, as if the Eight Great Alleys harbored “anti-Qing restoration rebels,” firmly refusing to go.
In the end, Jiang Qingyun reluctantly let go of him, watching his retreating figure with a sneer.
There were two reasons:
First, Li Shuaitai had married an incredibly ugly princess of the Aisin Gioro clan, giving him very low status at home. If he dared to visit the Eight Great Alleys, he would face a beating and humiliation upon returning.
Second, by the time Kolkun was released and returned home, he would just be in time to join the Blue Banner rebels and become a warm corpse.
No one else could be blamed.
I did nothing.
That very afternoon, Li Shuaitai sent over the deed to a villa in the western suburbs of the southern city, along with a contract of servitude.
Better to settle things quickly to avoid complications.
As long as Jiang Qingyun persisted, Kolkun would be able to be smoothly released from prison under Li Shuaitai’s arrangements.
Though stripped of office, at least his life would be spared.
...
To cement his reputation as a libertine, Jiang Qingyun hurried on horseback to the western suburbs of the southern city the next day to inspect.
The villa was modest but exquisitely simple.
Within the courtyard were two sweet water wells and a grape arbor.
Beneath the grape arbor hung a swing, on which sat a beautiful woman dressed in black. Her features were bright and delicate, her skin fair, her face rounded.
Just as Li Shuaitai had described: dignified and enchanting.
It is hard for those unaccustomed to the world to imagine how dignity and allure could coexist in one woman, yet so it was.
Because she was dignified, she was alluring.
...
The two entered the house one after another and closed the door.
The woman bowed gracefully.
“I am Lady Liu. I pay my respects to you, sir.”
“How old are you, miss? Where are you from? Are you married?”
Jiang Qingyun sat in a chair, speaking in an official tone.
Sometimes indulging in a bit of decadence brought great pleasure.
“I am twenty-two, orphaned since childhood, with no knowledge of my birthplace. I was taken in by a kind gentleman from Yangzhou Prefecture, who arranged for my education in music, chess, calligraphy, painting, and the virtues of womanhood and fidelity. But due to the chaos of war and hardship, I cut my hair in resolve and became a nun years ago. Unexpectedly, I was bought and placed here.”
“Tell me, did you come willingly?”
“Yes.”
...
Jiang Qingyun stood and approached Lady Liu, removing her hat.
A smooth, fair, rounded bald head came into view.
Her downcast eyelids lifted as if ready to sacrifice herself, her gaze fixed on the man before her.
Her whole body trembled slightly.
“What is your full name?”
“I am Liu Zhangtai. I have never privately interacted with a strange man.”
Jiang Qingyun removed his dagger and slammed it onto the table, then scooped Lady Liu up horizontally in his arms.
“My lord, have mercy.”
The voice in his embrace was mournful and delicate like a willow swayed by the wind—truly light and supple, smooth as butter.
The reins of twenty years of advanced education broke instantly. Forget secondary officialdom, forget censorate posts. At this moment, there was only one word:
“Master, save me.”
...
Simone de Beauvoir once said: A woman’s greatest weapon is fragility. The softer, the deadlier. The weaker, the deadlier.
Lady Liu showed no signs of pretense, pure heartfelt expression, revealing the inner world of a woman struggling through a chaotic regime change.
Helpless, fragile, and submissive.
After the burning of one incense stick’s time,
Jiang Qingyun’s mind cleared, yet he felt a sense of loss. This passage across the River Tongtian was exhilarating; he gained the “True Scripture of Delight.”
“Cultivation lies in the heart, not the place. If your heart is sincere, you can cultivate amid the bustling mortal world.”
“Yes.”
Jiang Qingyun’s gaze was drawn to a crude wooden pendant hanging at Lady Liu’s neck.
“What is this?”
“When I practiced at the temple, my master gave it to me. I have worn it all these years, recalling my master whenever I see it.”
...
Jiang Qingyun rose and retired for the night.
Lady Liu still clutched the blanket, her eyes lowered, showing no intention to serve him.
Jiang Qingyun paid no mind. After tidying himself, he turned back, lifted the quilt, and found a blood-stained white silk handkerchief, which he tucked into his sleeve.
“I have some knowledge of Buddhist teachings. I believe the more immersed in the worldly dust, the more it tests a monk’s resolve. You should cultivate well here. If you need scriptures or ritual implements, instruct the maids to procure them.”
“I will visit you when I have time.”
...
He opened the door, then closed it again.
Jiang Qingyun instructed the maids and older servants in the courtyard.
“Take good care of Lady Liu. Daily expenses will be covered by the residence. Tomorrow I will send an overseer.”
“Yes, master.”
The three lowered their eyes obediently.
After a while, Lady Liu left the house and sat again on the swing, calm and undisturbed, as if nothing had happened moments before.
A twenty-two-year-old woman is truly different.
...
Within Yongding Gate,
a newly established training ground of the Southern City Military Office.
Patrol soldiers trained daily for an hour and a half, half of which was devoted to military discipline.
Discipline is everything.
Obedience is duty.
Jiang Qingyun stood on the review platform, hands clasped behind his back, silently reciting two verses.
“Zhangtai Willow” I
Zhangtai willow, Zhangtai willow,
Are you still as tender as before?
Though your branches hang long as of old,
They should not be broken by strangers’ hands.
“Zhangtai Willow” II
Willow branches, in fragrant spring,
How cruel that every year brings parting.
A leaf blown by the wind signals autumn,
Even if you come, how could one bear to break you?
...
“Zhangtai Willow” is actually a ci poetry tune.
It is said that during the Tang Dynasty’s Tianbao era, scholar Han Hong fell in love with the famous courtesan Liu. Later, due to war, Chang’an fell; she cut her hair and became a nun but was captured and taken as a concubine by foreign generals.
After Chang’an was retaken, Han Hong wrote the first poem as inquiry, and Liu replied with the second. They were eventually reunited.
Obviously, whoever named her “Liu Zhangtai” was no ordinary person; the name carried heavy literary allusion.
...
Li Yongfang was the greatest intelligence chief of the Later Jin, appearing at every conquered city in Liaodong.
Li Shuaitai was his son. Would the son of an intelligence chief also be in intelligence?
On the surface, after Li Yongfang’s death, the Qing imperial family took direct control of the secret intelligence apparatus. Li Shuaitai held military posts.
But who can be sure?
The woman delivered to him might be of dubious quality.
The man delivered to him even more so.
If someone were ugly, things would be simple.
One stroke, and it’s done.
Yet this woman was remarkably pleasing.
Jiang Qingyun silently reviewed the small dramas of the day and decided to keep Liu Zhangtai completely outside his household, entirely outside his network of relations.
Occasionally, fortune smiles upon one.