Chapter Two: The Past

Leisurely and languid, basking in warm sunlight, feeling relaxed and comfortable, after an hour under the sun, he was escorted back to his chamber by the little maid. Yang Yaozong lay on the bed, absorbing the information he had gleaned from her about himself. He had also asked her to bring him some historical records to read.

Lying in bed, he slowly turned the pages of the book in his hands. His pace was quite slow, not only because most of the characters were in traditional script, but also because the text was written in classical prose. For the most part, he relied on guessing the meaning of the sentences. Fortunately, he only wished to gain a general understanding, not to delve deeply into their significance. Xiao Hua, seeing Yang Yaozong frown and not turn a page for a long time, softly asked, "Are you still feeling unwell, sir? Perhaps you shouldn't read anymore?" Hearing her speak, Yang Yaozong suddenly thought of something, smiled, and said, "Xiao Hua, your master is a bit dizzy but still wants to read. How about this—will you read to me? Read slowly, that way it's as if I'm reading myself."

The little maid’s bright, lively eyes widened, and she giggled, "Sir, you’re clever—just trying to be lazy." After spending several days with Yang Yaozong, Xiao Hua found him easy to get along with, gentle in temper, and had grown familiar enough to joke with him.

She took the book from his hands and sat on a small stool beside his bed, beginning to read quietly and slowly.

The era into which he had transmigrated was not one he recognized. After Qin Shi Huang, Prince Fusu ascended the throne, and thereafter history diverged greatly. Over nearly 1700 years, dynasties rose and fell, and now the land was unified under the Great Zhou dynasty, with its capital in Jinling, renamed Heavenly Capital. There was even a Grand Canal reminiscent of the later era, extending further geographically and making transport of goods north and south, east and west, more convenient than in the Ming dynasty of a similar period. These details Yang Yaozong had learned from the historical records Xiao Hua brought him. The Great Zhou had now seen six rulers, the imperial surname was Jing. The seventh emperor was already fifty, had no sons, and only one imperial grandson, for reasons unknown.

Though the dynasty was different, as with any long-lasting rule, the tradition of favoring civil over military continued. At this time, the Great Zhou faced both internal and external threats, yet there were few capable generals. So when war broke out, Yang Yaozong’s father-in-law had to don armor and lead troops.

From Xiao Hua, Yang Yaozong learned his father-in-law's surname was Nangong and his name was Zhan. His ancestors had been the great generals who helped the founding emperor conquer and unify the realm. Though Nangong Zhan inherited the title of Great Zhou’s Grand General, he had earned it through his own valor and achievements. Nangong Zhan had only one wife, who bore him three sons and a daughter. The youngest, Nangong Qingyi, was Yang Yaozong’s wife. All three sons died on the battlefield, and his wife passed away from childbirth complications after giving birth to the youngest daughter. What comforted Nangong Zhan was that his daughter was exceptionally bright and clever, following her father onto the battlefield from a young age. Even as a child, she read widely and could flexibly apply knowledge from books. In her teens, she devised strategies and won great merit in war. Off the battlefield, she invented and improved countless military and agricultural tools. Thus the emperor personally appointed her as the dynasty’s only female prime minister. Though she was not granted a formal rank, she held precedence among the civil officials.

Nangong Zhan was now sixty; his daughter Nangong Qingyi was twenty-two, four years older than Yang Yaozong. In this era, women usually married at fifteen or sixteen. That Nangong Qingyi only married at twenty-two, and Yang Yaozong was a live-in son-in-law, was unusual. When the little maid spoke of this, she nervously explained, "Miss is the female prime minister, the most talented woman in Great Zhou. She’s also very beautiful—many scholars admire her!" Then, worried Yang Yaozong might misunderstand, she quickly added, "But Miss never pays them any mind." Yang Yaozong thought to himself, "Seems my wife is a proud woman. In this era, by the maid’s description, she must be a wealthy and accomplished beauty. But I seem to prefer sweet, innocent girls more. Proud women are hard to deal with!" he mused.

As for his own past in this era, Xiao Hua knew little. He learned from her that since entering the household, Miss had taught her maids to read and write. He had Xiao Hua fetch pen, ink, and paper, asking her to write down the names of the household members as she spoke, so he could familiarize himself and recover his memory.

The little maid’s handwriting was delicate. When it came to writing Yang Yaozong’s name, she blushed and glanced at him before putting brush to paper. Seeing his name written, Yang Yaozong felt a surge of joy—he was still called Yang Yaozong in this era.

The two read and chatted together.

Speaking of Yang Yaozong, the maid only knew that he and Miss had been betrothed since childhood. His father had been a high official, serving as Minister of Personnel, a first-rank official. Yet years ago, his family suffered misfortune—his father was dismissed and exiled to Shu, where he spent nearly ten years and died, unable to return home even in death. A month ago, Yang Yaozong, having completed three years of mourning, brought a letter written by his father before death to the Nangong household. As for why his father was dismissed and exiled, the maid did not know.

The letter Yang Yaozong brought was actually a letter of withdrawal from the engagement. The maid said, "I suppose the old master did not want to trouble our master, feeling sir’s status no longer matched Miss’s, so he offered to break the engagement. He invited you to Heavenly Capital just to ask our master to look after you."

Recalling the scene, the maid smiled, "When master first met you, he thought you were ‘handsome and talented,’ and was quite pleased. You weren’t talkative; master assumed you were melancholy from family misfortune and pitied you. He refused to break the engagement, set a date, and insisted Miss marry you." Yet after some days, the master realized you... you were actually a bit ‘dull.’"

At the word "dull," her voice grew quieter, and her eyes blinked at Yang Yaozong, her expression torn between amusement and confusion.

Yang Yaozong looked at her round, slightly chubby face and softly repeated, "Dull, am I?"

She nodded, then shook her head, "Hmm. In your month here, you rarely left your room, hardly even left the chamber you reside in, never ate in the main hall, only in this small room. So, though you lived in the manor, you met Miss just twice. Hmm..." She furrowed her delicate brows, thinking, "The first was when you arrived, the second when she rescued you. At the wedding, Miss wore a red veil, and before setting out, she came to see you—but you were unconscious. Miss is always busy and can’t go to see you herself. So, hmm..." She pondered how best to explain, then softly, watching Yang Yaozong’s expression, said, "I suppose Sir is also considered a bit dull in Miss’s eyes."

The little maid was clever and adorable. Since Nangong Qingyi left with the army, she remained to care for Yang Yaozong. After several days together, she knew her master was not truly dull—perhaps only troubled by family misfortune and poor health, and melancholy in a strange place.

The maid earnestly studied Yang Yaozong’s face, seeing he was not angry, then continued, "Master kept the engagement but felt for Miss, thinking you could not provide her a better life, so had you marry into the family." Her voice grew quieter as she spoke.

Yang Yaozong asked, "And what about Miss? Did she agree to this marriage?"

The maid replied, "Miss, Miss did not object," her voice almost a whisper.

Yang Yaozong murmured, "Not objecting—likely not very pleased either. Simply letting things take their course."

The maid seemed to want to argue but lacked the strength, merely frowning and softly calling, "Sir... Sir..." Her eyes reddened and she could not continue.

Seeing her anxious, Yang Yaozong smiled, patted her shoulder and comforted, "It’s all right, it’s all right. I know what you’re thinking. You care about me and Miss, and don’t want misunderstandings between us."

She nodded, quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve, helped Yang Yaozong up, saying, "Sir, Master and Miss are both very good people."

Yang Yaozong smiled and nodded, "I know, I know."

The next day, the weather remained fine.

After breakfast and medicine, Yang Yaozong said to the maid, "Xiao Hua, let’s go to the pavilion again today. Bring the books and read to me there. The room is too stifling."

Xiao Hua replied, "Alright, Sir. There are so many books in Miss’s study." As she spoke, she realized Yang Yaozong was not suited to go to Miss’s study, which was in the elegant building reserved for her, while Yang Yaozong’s quarters were always the guest rooms. She blamed herself for being too talkative and stuck out her tongue in embarrassment. Fortunately, Yang Yaozong’s expression showed no sign of overthinking, so she felt relieved.

In the cool pavilion, Yang Yaozong again relaxed against the corner of a long bench, enjoying the warm sunlight and the pleasant sound of the maid reading.

After a while, Yang Yaozong said, "Xiao Hua, fetch some tea. Your throat must be dry from reading. Take a break and have some tea."

She smiled, nodded, and ran off to fetch tea. Yang Yaozong languidly leaned back, eyes half-closed. Suddenly, the light was blocked; he thought the maid had returned, opened his eyes with a smile, about to speak, when he saw the elegant young gentleman who had examined him, now frowning coldly at him. He greeted, "Hi!" casually.

The handsome young man frowned, seeming to find Yang Yaozong frivolous, and said with a disdainful snort, "I heard from Xiao Hua you don’t remember some things?"

Hearing the voice again, Yang Yaozong was certain this was a woman disguised as a man, likely for convenience in practicing medicine. He sat up and smiled, "Perhaps my brain’s a bit muddled. But it’s nothing—thank you for coming, and thanks to Old Mu. The medicine works well. I’m recovering quickly, feel almost healed."

The woman snorted again, "I didn't come for you. A grown man, yet so frail. Qingyi, a woman, is on the battlefield defending the country, while you enjoy comfort at home. How can you call yourself a man? I really don’t know what Uncle Nangong and Qingyi were thinking, bringing in such a sickly son-in-law." Yang Yaozong was not familiar with her, but guessed she was a friend of Nangong Qingyi, speaking up for her. Her words were harsh.

The maid, returning with the tea tray, heard the woman’s remarks and hurried over, ready to defend her master, but Yang Yaozong calmly replied, "As you said, I am a live-in son-in-law. But regardless of your reason for treating me, I still thank you and Old Mu. The medicine is very effective; I’m recovering fast, almost well." He didn’t look at her, instead gazing at the pond ahead, where the breeze sent gentle ripples across the water. He softly murmured, "Nangong Qingyi. This feeling could have become cherished memory, only at the time it was already lost."

The woman was momentarily stunned by his answer, scrutinizing him. Yes, he was merely a son-in-law, his status lower than even a concubine’s—what could one expect of him? His words did not sound like those of a weak, pedantic scholar, yet she still felt her friend was ill-used. She was about to scorn him further when she heard his soft murmur.

She saw Yang Yaozong staring at the pond, seeming to recite the phrase absentmindedly. She looked at him, surprised, and silently repeated, "This feeling could have become cherished memory, only at the time it was already lost." He had some talent after all. Was he grieving for Qingyi?

After a moment, she turned and said to Yang Yaozong, "You’re almost recovered. Rest a few more days and you’ll be well. Take care of yourself, don’t let Uncle Nangong and Qingyi worry about you. Do your best." With that, she left.

The maid, carrying the tea tray, walked over and softly said, "Sir..." wanting to comfort him, but unsure how, merely calling him timidly.

Yang Yaozong smiled, "You’ve brought the tea, pour me a cup. Drink some yourself, then continue reading for me."

She poured him tea and handed him the cup, then softly said, "Miss Mu and Miss are very close friends. Miss Mu is a skilled physician; Old Mu even says she surpasses him. She’s actually very kind."

Yang Yaozong smiled, "I know, I know. She cares for your Miss."

He took a sip of tea and, grinning mischievously, said, "Hmm. Judging by Miss Mu’s attire, she’s not secretly a woman of the wind, is she? She wouldn’t be in love with your Miss, would she? Maybe she hates me because she couldn’t win her affection..."

Hearing his shocking words, the maid’s eyes widened, and she hurriedly swallowed her tea, nearly choking. "No, no! Cough, cough! Miss Mu and Miss aren’t like that. Cough! It’s just, dressing like a man is convenient for her work." Seeing Yang Yaozong’s playful look, she realized he was joking. Annoyed, she said, "Sir!" and lightly thumped her chest as she coughed.

Yang Yaozong laughed, "Actually, her disguise is rather obvious. Clearly a woman. Put on men’s clothes and bind her chest, but her voice and manner don’t match. What man is so fair and delicate?" He mischievously thought, "Hmm... did she bind her chest? Perhaps she’s completely flat."

The maid blushed and whispered, "Sir, you actually..."

Yang Yaozong suddenly remembered his own appearance: indeed, he was quite the pretty boy. He sipped his tea and choked as well.

Seeing him flustered, the little maid gently patted his back and giggled.