Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 79

79: The Captured Liao Spy Was Actually Shang Yan

After over half a month of on-site searching, the geomancer finally identified a reasonably auspicious burial site near the Jiufang ancestral home—facing winding waters and conveniently close to the family graves. With Jiufang Lai’s approval and no objections from Tian Qingyi, the location was finalized.

But selecting the site only led to new logistical conflicts. Tian Qingyi proposed joint funerals and burials to save costs, but the Taoist priests and Buddhist monks insisted that while father and son could share a funeral procession, their burial dates must differ. Based on their birth charts and death times, Jiufang Qiyu—who died first—required burial twenty days later than Jiufang Xin.

Tian Qingyi, skeptical of such calculations, prepared to argue when Jiufang Lai readily agreed. Scanning the room, she saw identical reverence for the clergy’s pronouncements on every relative’s face. Such was feudal society!

Since they weren’t footing the bill, extravagance suited them perfectly. With filial piety’s weight bearing down, Tian Qingyi swallowed her protests—and her financial anguish.

Jiufang Qiyu’s funeral alone had strained family finances. Adding Jiufang Xin’s—a far higher-ranking official—meant exorbitant costs for ceremonies and burial goods.

Raised under the red flag, Tian Qingyi considered burial offerings wasteful extravagance. Yet Northern Song customs demanded lavish interments. Even avoiding top-tier standards, mid-range requirements would drain their coffers—lest Jiufang Lai’s faction drown her in accusations of stinginess.

For the funerals, Tian Qingyi exhausted all available cash reserves—still insufficient until Yun Jingchu and Li Yan contributed additional funds, supplemented by condolence gifts. While this covered basic expenses, the burial goods remained problematic.

The preliminary inventory included ceramics, pottery, bronze and ironware, silks, gold and silver items—daily necessities like bowls, bottles, jars, cups, pillows, incense burners, and clothing. Everything used in life must accompany the dead, with strict specifications on quantity and quality.

Jiufang Xin’s funerary items were particularly opulent, Jiufang Qiyu’s more modest—yet together, they represented a staggering sum.

Facing financial shortfalls, Tian Qingyi—who’d never taken loans—first considered land sales. The rented fields seemed disposable. Yun Jingchu, raised in commerce, proposed borrowing instead—the Yun family operated a gold-silver exchange now managed by her third brother, making loans accessible.

Panic-selling land invited lowball offers. After Yun Jingchu’s analysis, Tian Qingyi delegated the borrowing process to her, reserving land sales as last resorts for exorbitant interest scenarios. They prioritized selling two outlying county estates first.

With loans covering immediate needs, they could await favorable land prices without desperation.

That noon, as rituals proceeded in the main hall with both coffins displayed side-by-side, Tian Qingyi and Yun Jingchu knelt centrally as chief mourners, flanked by junior relatives filling the space.

Three daily rituals meant constant kneeling. Initially uncomfortable, Tian Qingyi even fantasized about Xiao Yanzi’s “kneeling pads” from My Fair Princess—impractical in summer heat. She endured the woven rush mats.

Mid-ceremony, her knees ached unbearably. Shifting positions subtly, she glanced at Yun Jingchu—head bowed, face obscured.

Finally, the interminable rites ended. A quick lunch preceded retreat to a side chamber reserved for respite during mourning—one of three rooms Steward Liu had prepared early on.

Entering, Tian Qingyi immediately seated Yun Jingchu and retrieved bruise ointment from a cabinet. The cramped space left Qingyu and others waiting outside.

As Tian Qingyi opened the jar, Yun Jingchu already lifted her robes, revealing reddened knees. Heart aching, Tian Qingyi applied ointment gently. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you when your father passed.”

Before experiencing ancient funerals firsthand, she’d underestimated their toll. As primary mourners fund and labor through ceremonies, the exhaustion was immense.

“Don’t apologize. Blame societal norms—sons-in-law observe no mourning, yet daughters-in-law serve three years. The injustice lies there, not with you.” Yun Jingchu’s light tone belied her memories of longing for Tian Qingyi’s presence during her own ordeal—though she’d never wish that suffering on her beloved.

“The world is indeed unjust.” Tian Qingyi massaged more tenderly, reflecting how feudal systems excluded women from power—and thus from shaping fairer rules. Her own official status resulted from extraordinary circumstances. Now possessing even minor influence, shouldn’t she advocate for women?

“I want to help women—however modestly.” Switching to Yun Jingchu’s right knee, she voiced her thoughts.

Yun Jingchu, resting against a pillow, opened her eyes to see only Tian Qingyi’s bowed head. “What ideas do you have?”

“Women aren’t inherently inferior—they simply lack men’s educational privileges. Given the opportunity, I’d establish a girls’ academy with experienced female instructors.”

This perspective stunned Yun Jingchu, whose ambitions centered on wealth and respect. By comparison, her dreams seemed mercenary.

“A noble cause! Count me in—contributing funds or labor.” Excitement sparked visions of immediate action.

“Throughout history, money enables change. I have a commercial idea—evaluate its feasibility.” Tian Qingyi had long contemplated this, awaiting market research.

“Share it. I’ll assess viability.” Curiosity piqued, Yun Jingchu leaned forward.

“Off-season flowers.” Both Kaifeng and Huating County residents adored floral adornments and decorations. While abundant in spring, summer, and autumn, winter blooms were scarce. Failing that, off-season vegetables could fill northern winter shortages.

Yun Jingchu grasped the concept quickly. The floral market was vast but low-barrier—a Yun family blind spot. Without expertise, cautious planning was essential. “Promising, but requires gradual implementation.”

“Agreed. I’ve spent years compiling regional floral data—growth conditions, care requirements. Two more years should complete the collection.” Tian Qingyi recognized this as a long-term project.

Yun Jingchu’s appreciative gaze acknowledged the groundwork. With recent confinement to Kaifeng—a floral hub—feasibility studies were opportune. If viable, she’d pursue this new venture.

Post-ointment application, they prepared to rest when Wei Shier announced Xun Chang’s arrival. Prioritizing Yun Jingchu’s rest, Tian Qingyi received him alone in the main hall.

“Dispensing formalities between brothers—I came to bid farewell. My new appointment is secured.” After exchanging bows, Xun Chang went straight to the point.

“Congratulations! When do you depart?” Tian Qingyi hadn’t expected such haste.

“At dawn tomorrow.” Xun Chang drained his chilled perilla drink in one go, the coolness refreshing him instantly.

“Who knows when we’ll meet again? One final game of chess?” Tian Qingyi proposed, seizing a rare leisure opportunity.

Xun Chang agreed readily. Qingyu soon brought the board, with Tian Qingyi taking black first. Once attendants withdrew, their game unfolded alongside conversation.

Beyond farewells, Xun Chang disclosed an explosive secret—the captured Liao spy was none other than Shang Yan! His delayed condolence visit resulted from Imperial City Department interrogations.

How Shang Yan was exposed remained unclear. Xun Chang knew only that Shang Yan resisted fiercely, his oblivious family revealing nothing. Few officials knew his spy status—making Xun Chang’s disclosure extremely risky.

Tian Qingyi didn’t understand why he’d share this but recognized the debt incurred. Should opportunities arise, she’d reciprocate.

Xun Chang’s decision stemmed from fear—not of the Imperial City Department, but of Tian Qingyi potentially implicating herself if questioned about their mutual acquaintance. Among his many “sworn brothers,” few earned genuine regard—Tian Qingyi being one. He couldn’t abandon her.

Remarkably, Tian Qingyi won this match. After Xun Chang left, unease settled over her. Without knowing Shang Yan’s exposure circumstances, she could only assume her own safety for now.

Shang Yan’s fanatical loyalty to Liao made silent endurance predictable—confessions would have been out of character. Xun Chang mentioned Shang Yan’s Song-native family’s ignorance spared them execution, merely earning banishment. This reinforced Tian Qingyi’s resolve—never reveal her own spy identity to Yun Jingchu.

Was Ma Zhusege still in Kaifeng? Regardless, unless he reappeared, she’d assume his absence. Constant paranoia served no purpose.

By mid-September, Tian Qingyi and Yun Jingchu returned to Yuzhu Residence late as usual. After parting, Tian Qingyi proceeded to her study with Wei Shier’s escort before dismissing him for Qingyu’s care.

Nowadays, Tian Qingyi handled most ablutions independently, with Qingyu assisting or reporting updates. It was already mid-September—why hadn’t Shi Wan’s group returned? What mishap delayed them?

As Qingyu helped remove her outer robe, she whispered, “Fresh news—Shi Wan arrived in Kaifeng tonight.”

Long-awaited joy surged—Tian Qingyi nearly rushed out immediately. But caution prevailed. For safety, she instructed Qingyu to verify their status tomorrow before reporting back.