The Wang family made their fortune in Jiangnan and was one of the most prominent clans in the region. When the two legitimate daughters married, they hired hundreds of armed escorts just to accompany the dowries. Such was the scale and value of the items involved.
Wang Xiuyu casually pointed out one of the carts she had sent over as Rong Tang’s dowry. When they opened the chests, each item inside was of immense value—rare and exquisite treasures. After returning to Yong’an Lane, the very first thing the young prince did was unload all the goods and inspect them, one by one.
Jars, bottles, and rolls of silk were moved into the storerooms, while the ancient books, paintings and calligraphy were laid out in the courtyard on wooden racks, spread under the blazing sun of early June, to air out the silverfish that had long festered in the dark.
There was no denying it. Rong Tang was a little miser, full of zeal from start to finish. He even took the initiative to help with the unpacking, which left Shuang Fu terribly anxious that his young master might knock into something or throw his back out.
But Rong Tang felt nothing of the sort. On the contrary, a bright smile had remained on his face the whole time.
When Su Huaijing returned, he found Rong Tang holding a fan, one hand on his hip as he waved it about, strolling delightedly through the courtyard inspecting his newfound fortune. That usual air of aloof nobility and restraint had completely vanished, leaving behind only the image of a cheerful, small-time magnate.
The main villain’s steps faltered slightly. His earlier displeasure and surprise at the rumours he’d overheard in the alley subsided considerably.
Rong Tang was ambling about when he spotted Su Huaijing. His eyes lit up instantly, and he gave the fan a flourish in the air, beckoning him over. “Huaijing, Huaijing, come and look at this!”
Spread out across the courtyard, the ancient books and paintings were all rare masterpieces, exceptionally well preserved with every stroke and character still clear. If one were to host an exhibition and invite scholars from every corner of the empire to admire them, the gates of Tangjing Residence would be trampled by eager visitors.
Su Huaijing walked over and casually took the fan from Rong Tang’s hand, leisurely fanning him.
The evening air was mild and refreshing. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting the sky in hues of rose and gold.
Su Huaijing lowered his gaze, his eyes lingering on the way the setting sun lit up Rong Tang’s profile. His expression darkened slightly for a brief moment, but he said nothing to dampen the mood.
Instead, he asked, “Did Mother give you all this?”
“I coaxed her into it!” Rong Tang announced proudly, not the least bit embarrassed to admit he’d still wheedled something out of his mother at his age.
Su Huaijing paused, then broke into a smile he couldn’t suppress. “Mother really dotes on you.”
Rong Tang gave a satisfied hum and looked even more pleased with himself. “Of course she does!”
Su Huaijing chuckled and shook his head. He said no more on the matter, instead asking, “And what does Tangtang plan to do with all these books?”
Rong Tang’s eyes lit up at once. He turned eagerly to him. “How about donating them to Linyuan Academy?”
Su Huaijing stilled, immediately sensing something wasn’t quite as straightforward as it sounded. “Donating them?”
Rong Tang broke into a grin, adding with playful slyness, “In name only.”
Su Huaijing caught his meaning and gave a small, amused shake of the head, taking Rong Tang’s hand and leading him inside as the younger man began to explain.
“Linyuan Academy is practically a national emblem in Dayu, but due to its location, not every aspiring scholar has the chance to sit for the exams. The head of the academy has close ties with the Ke family. I want to donate these books in Mother’s name, and also contribute funds for them to build a few new rooms and classrooms.”
Su Huaijing asked, “And what do you want in return?”
Rong Tang answered candidly, “Mother is talented and kind-hearted. It’s a waste to keep her cooped up in the inner residence. If she and Father do divorce in future, she’ll either stay with us here in the capital or return to her roots in Jiangnan. But—”
He paused slightly, brows furrowing. “But times are what they are. No matter the reason, when a woman leaves her husband’s home and returns to her maiden family, tongues will wag.”
Though Wang Xiuyu was strong-willed and resilient, even she could not remain untouched by constant whispers and insinuations. Over time, such words would fester, and wear her down.
“You want to find something meaningful for Mother to do?” Su Huaijing asked.
Rong Tang nodded. “Jiangnan is a land of wealth and culture, and the gentry there care deeply about their children’s education. I’m thinking of donating these ancient scrolls to Linyuan Academy in exchange for permission to open a branch in Jiangnan. One that specifically admits girls. We could start with girls from wealthy families, then gradually open it up to those from poorer households, offering free admission or even subsidies where needed. Little by little, we could create space for women to receive a proper education.”
A few years of foundational learning may not be much, and in this era, women still had no place in court or officialdom. But even two or three years of literacy could mean the difference between clarity and confusion, between being silenced and being heard.
It was a difficult idea to implement. The prevailing norms alone were enough to present obstacles, and encouraging so many girls to study beyond the home would undoubtedly invite public criticism.
But Rong Tang had always believed that even idealism needed practical steps. Utopias weren’t built on dreams alone. One had to take action. However small the shift, any step forward, given time, could wear away even the hardest stone.
And besides—
He turned to look at Su Huaijing.
He always remembered what Su Huaijing had said to him outside the examination hall: that one day, it wouldn’t just be men in blue robes reading the notice boards… but women in skirts too.
Rong Tang understood history’s momentum. If the world stayed on its proper course and Su Huaijing rose to the throne, then he would no doubt introduce the necessary reforms to nurture such dreams, to see hope take root and blossom.
Even if it took one year, ten, or a hundred to change the course of history, who could say it was all for nothing after a thousand?
And if fate remained unyielding and the world line collapsed once more…
At least he would have tried. He could face himself with no regrets.
His eyes shone in the warm glow of the summer sunset, reflecting the soft crimson clouds like fireflies flickering in the dusk… so bright, it stirred the heart.
Su Huaijing’s chest tightened. His heart thudded so violently he thought it might burst free, just to show Rong Tang how deeply he admired and loved him.
Rong Tang met his gaze for a moment, then turned his head, frowning slightly, hesitation creeping in. “It’s just… Mother might not be willing to take up the idea. The academy doesn’t hand out approval for branches lightly, and Ke Hongxue may not be inclined to help us either—”
“He will,” Su Huaijing said, taking Rong Tang’s hand in his own, his voice quiet but certain. “I’ll speak to Ke Hanying. He’ll agree. Xiong zhang once held the same vision. He’ll find a way to make it happen.”
Even without saying as much, Ke Hanying had always believed in education without discrimination. The Ke family had been scholars for generations; their blood ran with the will to teach and enlighten. Were it not for Mu Jingxu, he might have long since settled in a small village, opened a private school, spent his days teaching and his evenings strolling through the fields with his fellow scholars.
Beneath his roguish façade, Ke Hongxue lived with a serenity and freedom most could only envy.
“And if Mother doesn’t want to,” Su Huaijing added, smiling gently, “don’t forget. Tangjie is currently teaching at Linyuan Academy. Even if Mother wishes to rest and not trouble herself, we can go to Yingying-jie instead. She’ll be more than willing. And when the time comes, we can simply take good care of Mother in her old age.”
In front of Rong Tang, he had always spoken with a steady gentleness, warm, assured, as if no matter how great the challenge, it would unravel effortlessly in his hands. Like a breeze brushing the face: passing softly, leaving only a faint trace. Nothing worth worrying over.
Once he had answered Rong Tang’s concerns, he called to him again, “Tangtang.”
“Hm?”
Su Huaijing said, “Tangtang has a kind heart, always thinking of the greater good. For the nation and the people. No matter how difficult or complex it may seem, just tell me what’s on your mind. There’s no need to hesitate, to worry, or to be afraid.”
“I will do everything in my power to help you bring it to life,” he added softly.
Tongtong had once told him that Rong Tang had come from a far better world, one where survival required no struggle.
Su Huaijing didn’t know what kind of world that was, nor did he wish for Rong Tang to return to it. The best he could do was to strive. Strive to make this place as close as possible to the homeland Rong Tang remembered, so that all his efforts, his companionship along the way, his attempts to ease his burdens, would not be in vain.
Su Huaijing smiled, his voice warm as spring sunlight. “Just leave it to me.”
Rong Tang’s heart gave a slight tremble. For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Behind them, the sunset clouds blazed like fire, painting a vivid backdrop. The scent of paper and ink drifted through the courtyard. Every step taken, every moment passed. None of it meaningless. All of it written into the book of history.
At last, Rong Tang nodded and murmured, “Thank you, Huaijing.”
…
That night, Su Huaijing never brought up the gossip swirling at the alley’s mouth.
He thought to himself: his husband was the kindest, most compassionate soul under heaven. For him to indulge in petty jealousy, to take comfort in salacious rumour just to soothe his own vanity… he would hardly be human.
But the following day, Excellency Su, the illustrious Deputy Censor-in-Chief, who never once left court early, skipped work. Dressed in full court regalia, dignified and resplendent, he knocked on each neighbour’s door with a genial smile, distributing red eggs from house to house.
In a warm, apologetic tone, he said, “Apologies for the noise yesterday, aunties. My mother-in-law worries terribly for my husband and me, fretting that we might lack for food or proper clothing out in the world. So she sent a cartful of treasures for our daily use. I’m afraid the commotion disturbed you all. Please forgive us for the trouble.”
The neighbours stared at the red eggs pressed into their hands—eggs usually reserved for celebrating the birth of a child. Their cheeks flushed redder than the shells themselves. Stammering their thanks, they offered blessings before sheepishly accepting the gifts.
Later, when Su Huaijing returned home after court and passed through the alley again, the whispers had changed completely:
“Oh, that young couple at the end of the lane? What a fine match! So handsome, so refined! Did you see him in that court robe? My word. What a figure! If I were ten years younger, I’d want a husband like that to keep me company at home. Just looking at him is a joy!”
“Give it a rest! Do you even know who that is? One’s a court official, the other the son of a duke! And you. What business do you have inserting yourself into that? I tell you, they’re a match made in heaven, fated for three lifetimes!”
…
Excellency Su sat inside the carriage, eyes closed in feigned rest, the corners of his lips tugging upward no matter how he tried to suppress them.
The poor coachman, young Shuang Shou, bore the full brunt of the gossip alone, ears bright red with embarrassment.
He could still remember the look Sister Bi Xin gave him when she caught him sneaking into the kitchen to boil that entire basket of red eggs…
Why is Sir so childish…?
Eighteen-year-old Shuang Shou heaved a long, weary sigh, convinced that he was, by far, the more mature of the two.
—
The author has something to say:
(ALL CAPS! IN BOLD!)
Tangtang is, in many ways, an idealist. Having seen the modern world, it’s perfectly natural that his thoughts and ideals don’t entirely align with the realities of ancient society.
As for the issue of girls attending school, it’s meant to be a beautiful aspiration. There are, of course, countless obstacles to overcome, but this isn’t the main focus of the story, so I won’t dwell on it in detail. I bring it up simply to show that they have the desire to change the world, and are willing to act on that desire. Even if it seems unrealistic, their efforts aren’t in vain. They’re not dreamers who do nothing.
The idea of letting girls from wealthy families attend school first can be seen as a way to let the fortunate lead the way. In times of low productivity, it’s unlikely that families struggling to feed themselves would prioritise education for girls. It takes broader societal shifts to create that possibility. There’s no intention of discrimination in this.
In short: please don’t read too much into this. There’s no political agenda here. If any part of it doesn’t sit well with you, just remind yourself: it’s all fiction! Imagine I’m writing a fairy tale, and don’t take it too seriously. I’m begging you!
Wishing you all happiness every day.
