Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Fan Zhuzhu’s Birthday

The messenger from Zhuyuan Estate arrived in Kaifeng just one day before Fan Zhuzhu’s birthday. Receiving another private letter from Tian Qingyi, Fan Zhuzhu was overjoyed. Even though the letter mostly contained trivial matters, to her, it was more captivating than any storytelling performance. She wanted to know everything about her child, even what they ate that day, so much so that she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Meanwhile, Jiufang Xin, who had learned that Tian Qingyi had written to Fan Zhuzhu again, waited in vain for his own letter. Though disappointed, he wasn’t discouraged—he understood that the bond between mother and child far surpassed his relationship with his second son.

On Fan Zhuzhu’s birthday, the celebrations were grand, arranged entirely according to the standards befitting the wife of an official. This wasn’t because Fan Zhuzhu had asked Jiufang Xin for it, nor had Li Yan overstepped her position to suggest it. Jiufang Xin had taken the initiative to instruct Li Yan to prepare everything as if Fan Zhuzhu were the primary wife.

Jiufang Qiyu was the first to object, believing his father was insulting both his mother and himself. His anger emboldened him, and he stormed into Jiufang Xin’s presence, ready to make a scene—only to lose his nerve at the last moment. Instead, he meekly questioned his father, only to be scolded in return for his narrow-mindedness and lack of foresight. Humiliated, he left home in a huff.

He stayed away for several days, drowning his frustrations in the pleasure quarters. Despite Li Yan sending servants repeatedly to fetch him, he refused to return. Exasperated, she eventually gave up. Their marriage had been one of convenience, and the fragile affection they’d cultivated over time reverted to mere politeness.

On Fan Zhuzhu’s birthday, everyone connected to the Jiufang family came to offer congratulations. Even those who couldn’t attend in person sent relatives with gifts. By the end, the house was packed, and presents piled up.

Fan Zhuzhu knew perfectly well that most of these guests were there out of respect for Jiufang Xin and Jiufang Xiyan—one a former high-ranking official, the other a future one. Though the celebration was lively, to her, it was little more than an illusion. Few genuinely respected her.

Her suspicions weren’t far off. Nine out of ten attendees still looked down on her as a concubine, assuming she’d be uncultured. Yet Fan Zhuzhu, beautiful and poised, conducted herself with such grace that had her status been unknown, she could easily have passed as the primary wife.

Their initial disdain gradually shifted to admiration—No wonder she raised such a successful son!—and their flattery took on a hint of sincerity. Some women even sought her parenting advice, but Fan Zhuzhu modestly deflected, crediting Jiufang Xiyan’s own efforts.

Envious, they showered her with praise, turning Jiufang Xiyan into the proverbial “model child.” Jiufang Xin swelled with pride—until he remembered Jiufang Qiyu’s conspicuous absence, souring his mood.

Believing his father’s lavish celebration for a concubine was a deliberate insult, Jiufang Qiyu had taken an assignment in a neighboring county to avoid the event. Jiufang Xin, seeing through his son’s ploy, berated him again.

Though Jiufang Xin had long suspected the brothers’ camaraderie was a facade, part of him had hoped otherwise. “When brothers unite, their strength cuts through metal,” as the saying went. But now, he realized his wishful thinking.

If he’d had more sons, he might have let it slide. But with just two, family harmony was paramount. If they couldn’t get along, wouldn’t they split the household after his death? Their wealth was already modest—divided, his dream of generational prosperity would crumble.

No! Absolutely not! He’d spent his life striving for this goal. With success within reach, he wouldn’t let it slip away!

Had Fan Zhuzhu known his thoughts, she’d have laughed at his naivety. Initially, their conflicts with Jiufang Qiyu had been minor. But after Jiufang Xiyan’s success in the imperial exams, Qiyu’s resentful antics escalated tensions. This extravagant birthday celebration only poured fuel on the fire.

At this point, “brotherly unity” was a pipe dream. If they avoided outright enmity, it’d be a miracle.

Blissfully unaware, Fan Zhuzhu happily unwrapped her gifts. Among the gold, silver, and jade, her favorites were the jewelry and fabrics from Tian Qingyi. She wore the jewelry the very next day and planned to sew clothes from the fabric—some for herself, some for Tian Qingyi.

She’d considered making something for Yun Jingchu too but lacked her measurements. Moreover, as Yun Jingchu’s mother-in-law, such a gesture might invite gossip. Reluctantly, she abandoned the idea—until receiving more fine fabrics reignited it. With Wei Shier returning to Huating County soon, the timing was perfect.

Wei Shier’s group waited until after the celebrations to depart. Fan Zhuzhu penned two heartfelt replies and packed an assortment of gifts—food, daily necessities, clothing—for Tian Qingyi and Yun Jingchu. Despite knowing they were settling in well, she couldn’t help but worry.

After some thought, Jiufang Xin also wrote back. Only Li Yan, out of courtesy, sent a brief thank-you note—after all, Tian Qingyi had brought them gifts too.

When Jiufang Qiyu returned and learned of the presents, his barely cooled rage reignited. Convinced Tian Qingyi was flaunting her success and mocking him, he burned everything despite Li Yan’s protests—earning himself six months’ allowance suspension from Jiufang Xin.

By the time Wei Shier returned to Huating County with the letters and gifts, the Mid-Autumn Festival was approaching.

Tian Qingyi hadn’t expected to receive a cartload of gifts in return for sending one, but Yun Jingchu saw it coming—this was standard practice among official families. Reciprocity governed all.

From Wei Shier’s report, Tian Qingyi learned the gifts came not just from the Jiufang family but also the Yun household, who’d sent a generous return package after receiving Tian Qingyi’s presents.

Hearing Fan Zhuzhu had sewn her a robe, Tian Qingyi frowned. Her repeated warnings in letters had clearly gone unheeded. Fan Zhuzhu had already made more clothes for the original host than she could ever wear.

Knowing sewing strained the eyes, Tian Qingyi had specifically urged her to stop, fearing future vision problems. Yet Fan Zhuzhu ignored her.

Yun Jingchu inquired about the Yun family’s affairs, but nothing noteworthy had occurred. Dismissing Wei Shier, she sent Qingyu and Yuanqi to inventory the gifts.

Once alone, they turned to the letters. Tian Qingyi had four— from Fan Zhuzhu, Jiufang Xin, Li Yan, and Yun Changliang—while Yun Jingchu had only one, from Baoqin.

Tian Qingyi offered Yun Changliang’s letter to Yun Jingchu, who declined with a flat, “It’s addressed to you. I won’t dirty my eyes.”

Though her tone was even, her distaste for Yun Changliang was unmistakable. Tian Qingyi withdrew her hand.

Fan Zhuzhu’s letters brimmed with affection and advice, leaving Tian Qingyi smiling. Li Yan and Yun Changliang’s perfunctory notes drew no reaction. But after reading Jiufang Xin’s, her face fell.

Yun Jingchu, having finished earlier, snatched the letter. Her brow furrowed—not because of any family crisis or unreasonable demand.

The entire letter was a parable about fraternal harmony, dripping with paternal concern. Both understood the subtext: Jiufang Xin wanted Tian Qingyi to play nice with Jiufang Qiyu.

Fraternal harmony? Brotherhood? Tian Qingyi would sooner befriend a ghost than that man! Not in this lifetime—or the next!

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Yun Jingchu soothed, knowing their strained relationship. “Who knows when we’ll return? No use borrowing trouble.”

Her earnest comfort only deepened Tian Qingyi’s gloom. Jiufang Xin’s presumptuous letter was merely the surface issue.

The real reason for her melancholy emerged two nights prior, when Yun Jingchu announced plans to leave for Hangzhou after the Mid-Autumn Festival. Tian Qingyi had known this day would come—but not so soon. They hadn’t even visited Qinglong Town or the seaside yet.

In late July, Tian Qingyi had received Xun Chang’s reply. True to his Hangzhou roots, he detailed the city’s general state and shared insider knowledge of the spice trade.

Most surprising was his revelation that his uncle was a maritime merchant who specialized in spices. Beyond joint ventures, the uncle owned several Hangzhou shops.

As for the spice market’s prospects, Xun Chang remained coy, digressing into chess strategies and musical collaborations.

He also entrusted Yun Jingchu with a family letter—clearly more than it seemed. Any fool could see it doubled as an introduction. Otherwise, why not send a servant?