"Besides, what will happen to Tiedan if you leave?"
Yun Shuyue stopped at her feet.
She kept her head down, her shoulders trembling.
Anyang, 1200 li away.
Two large charcoal braziers were burning in the main hall of the Prince An's Residence. Gu Mochen sat at the head of the table, holding a bowl of ginseng soup in his hands, but his eyes were fixed on the city map spread out in the hall.
Princess Lady Lü was helped in by her maid. She walked very slowly, one hand protecting her abdomen. Before sitting down, she had someone add a cushion to the chair.
"Your Highness," she said softly, "I would like to distribute porridge throughout the city on New Year's Day."
Gu Mochen looked up. "Distribute porridge?"
"There are many refugees in and around Anyang City, and they freeze and starve to death every year in winter." Lady Lü lowered her head and straightened her cuffs. "Now that I am heavily ill, I sit in the mansion all day and always think about doing some good deeds."
I propose setting up a soup kitchen at each of the four gates and providing it for ten consecutive days. Everyone who comes will be given a bowl of hot soup and a flatbread.
The people of the city, seeing this, will say that Prince An is benevolent.
Gu Mochen paused for a moment, holding the ginseng soup in his hand.
He was well aware of the current situation in the capital.
The Emperor is ill, the Eastern Palace is locked up, and news changes three times a day.
These days he hasn't been sleeping well at night, tossing and turning over in one thought: when his father wakes up, the first thing he should hear when he opens his eyes is good news about Anyang.
Grain prices, military households, government treasury, and that booklet I copied from my third brother—these are all things that need to be addressed gradually.
The methods of distributing porridge are different.
The porridge distribution is quick, visible, and can be found in both official documents and teahouses.
"Alright." He put down the ginseng soup. "My beloved concubine is pregnant; why are you thinking about this?"
"I am only praying for the child's safety." Lady Lü looked up, her eyes glistening with tears. "He hasn't even been born yet, and I'm already accumulating some blessings for him."
From now on, porridge will be provided for three days every month. When he grows up, the people of Anyang will say that no one in the city starved to death the year he was born.
Gu Mochen paused for a moment, then stood up and went over to pull the blanket that had slipped down to her knees.
"You can use the money in the manor as you please," he said. "If you need to set up a few sheds or how much rice you need, just tell Zhou Huaili, and he'll take care of it."
"There's no need to touch the money in the manor." Lady Lü smiled. "Which of the silk shops, grain stores, and timber shops in Anyang City doesn't want to show off in front of His Highness?"
I sent a message saying that the Princess Consort is praying for the well-being of the imperial grandson in her womb and wishes to work with virtuous families in the city to accomplish this.
Those who donated more had wooden signs erected outside the soup kitchen displaying their business name. People were scrambling to donate.
Gu Mochen laughed out loud, "You've learned that trick from your third brother."
"I've heard about what happened in Yi Prefecture," said Lady Lü, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "Since it's a good idea, why not use it?"
Gu Mochen nodded, turned around and sat down at the head of the table. He looked at the city map again, already calculating in his mind how many lines of text could be written in the report about distributing porridge.
An hour later, in the warm pavilion in the backyard.
Lady Lü lay reclining on the couch, having dismissed all the maids, leaving only a staff member in charge of the accounts standing outside the curtain.
"Write the postcards exactly as I say." Lady Lü's voice was lower than when she was in the main hall, and the glint of tears in her eyes was gone. "Thirty-seven families, not a single one can be left out."
"Yes."
"The donated silver will first go into my private account, and then be used to buy rice." She picked up a candied date and slowly took a bite. "There's no need to buy rice in the city. My maternal family has a grain store in Zhang Prefecture. Their old rice is cheaper there, saving three hundred coins per shi (a unit of dry measure). You can go through that store, and write the price of new rice in the account."
The person outside the curtain paused for a moment. "Your Highness, cook some rice porridge..."
"What? Do those lowly refugees deserve to eat new rice?" Lady Lü spat the date pit into a small dish. "The refugees have been starving for three months. Give them a bowl of hot rice, and they kneel down to thank you."
Do you think he could tell what year the rice was from?
What if someone finds out?
"Hmph, who dares to investigate?" she chuckled. "The soup kitchen was set up by the Prince's residence, the invitations were sent by me, and the rice was purchased with donations from charitable households. Who would dare to smear the Princess's prayers?"
"Besides, my father is the Minister of Ministry of Personnel. Who dares to offend him? Do they want to be demoted?"
The warm room was quiet for a while.
"Twenty percent of the collected donations will be used to buy rice," she said. "Of the remaining eighty percent, half will go into the warehouse, and the other half you can use to help my family back home."
If this baby is a son, there will be many more places where we'll need money in the future.
The person outside the curtain bowed their head and replied, "Yes."
Lady Lü picked up another jujube and looked out the window.
The sky over Anyang was overcast, and the snow had not yet fallen.
She reached out and gently touched her abdomen twice, her face regaining the gentle smile she had worn in the main hall.
Provincial Surveillance Commissioner's Office
Lady Wang smashed two vases in the room.
The two maids knelt outside the door, not daring to raise their heads.
There were no curses or cries inside, only bursts of rapid breathing and the sound of skirts brushing against the floor tiles, back and forth.
Zhao Wuxu paused in the corridor, rolled up his sleeves twice, and then wiped his face, revealing a thin layer of water.
"Mother."
For a moment, everyone in the room paused in their breathing.
Without waiting for a response, Zhao Wuxu pushed the door open, closed it behind him, and knelt down to feel around on the ground.
The first shard of porcelain grazed his fingertip, but he didn't even groan. He picked it up, placed it in his palm, and went to pick up the second shard.
"Mother, don't move, there's trash on the ground." He looked up, his eyes red, "You're only wearing soft socks."
Lady Wang stood by the window, her hands bracing against the windowsill, her shoulders rising and falling.
She turned around and saw her godson kneeling on the ground, picking up the things she had smashed, one by one, with seven or eight pieces already gathered in his palm.
The tightness in his throat suddenly eased slightly, and he slumped down onto the edge of the tatami mat.
Your hand.
"It doesn't hurt." Zhao Wuxu placed the shards into the empty dish beside him, then knelt forward half a step to pick up the piece from the foot of the couch. "When my son was little, he lived in the Zhao Clan and had to pick up bowls countless times a year. He's used to it."
After he finished speaking, the room became so quiet that you could hear the sparks from the charcoal brazier.
Lady Wang reached out and pulled him up.
"It's all my fault," she said. "I went to Prince Yi's Residence, but I accomplished nothing. I didn't bring anyone back, and I couldn't even speak to him. That sickly prince sat there, choking me with every word, and I didn't even know how to continue the conversation."
Zhao Wuxu knelt down and cleaned up all the broken porcelain. He then picked up a damp cloth from the copper basin and used it to wipe the tea stains off her feet.
"Mother, do you know that while you were out, I was worried sick in the manor until dark?"
He said slowly, "Besides my mother, I have nothing left."
Lady Wang raised her head.
"Good child," Lady Wang's voice trembled, "I also consider you my own son."
"Mother."
"Say it again."
"Mother."
Lady Wang's tears finally fell. Zhao Wuxu knelt and moved forward, kneeling beside the bed, placing his hands on her shoulders with a very steady touch.
As soon as she pressed her finger down, Lady Wang let out a long breath.
"Um... a little lower." She kept her eyes closed. "Lower still."