Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 81

81: They Are Not Her Vassals

Tian Qingyi was no exploitative capitalist. Despite Qingyu’s protests, she personally selected three hairpins and two jade pendants, wrapping them in cloth for pawning. Though disapproving, Qingyu obeyed—albeit unhappily. That night, sleepless, Qingyu reflected: should she die on duty, such masterly treatment would leave her without regrets.

Initially heading to the Yun family’s pawnshop for fairer rates, Qingyu abruptly diverted—realizing Tian Qingyi’s avoidance of Yun Jingchu’s gifts implied secrecy. This instinctive decision averted potential disaster. Had Tian Qingyi known, she’d have praised Qingyu’s discretion—sparing difficult explanations to Yun Jingchu.

By mid-October, Li Yan’s father replied regarding her remarriage: respecting her choice whether to stay or leave, while affirming continued familial ties with the Jiufangs. Whether sincere or pressured by Chancellor Wang’s lingering influence, the outcome satisfied all. Li Yan, unburdened, wrote home declaring her intent to raise Wan Yue alone.

She’d named her daughter Ming Yue (Bright Moon), nicknamed Wan Yue (Crescent Moon)—hoping she’d embody lunar purity and resilience in darkness. Radiant joy now replaced Li Yan’s former tension, especially when cradling her child.

Acknowledging the Jiufang stance referenced in Li Yan’s father’s letter, Tian Qingyi formally affirmed their support: Li Yan could remain with them indefinitely if desired. In truth, Li Yan needed no financial support—her dowry and competence ensured self-sufficiency. This declaration simply preempted future Li family objections.

Late October was Jiufang Xin and Jiufang Qiyu’s joint funeral procession, with roadside memorial rites prolonging the journey from dawn till dusk. Final arrangements concluded by early December, commencing Tian Qingyi’s homebound mourning period. Winter seclusion brought unexpected relief—especially imagining high-ranking officials shivering through predawn court assemblies.

Her lingering fears proved unfounded: Ma Zhusege never reappeared; the Imperial City Department remained inactive. Yet perpetual vulnerability unsettled her. True power—like a chief minister’s status—would enable negotiations with Ma Zhusege beyond passive submission.

Previously ambitionless, she now craved advancement for autonomy, even if ultimately unsuccessful. But Jiufang Xin’s corrupt methods repelled her. She’d rise through merit alone, earning imperial favor honestly.

Pre-year-end, Tian Qingyi visited Shi Qian and Ruoshui. After mourning rituals, Shi Qian—supported by Qingyu—had regained footing. Ruoshui balanced assisting with shop operations and caring for two-year-old Dongxue (Winter Snow)—Liu Daniang’s posthumous daughter.

Upon meeting, the toddler clutched Tian Qingyi’s robes adorably. Resembling Liu Daniang with faint traces of Tian Qingyi’s features, Dongxue’s bl00d connection felt profoundly different from Li Yan’s nominally related niece.

Unaware of her orphan status, Dongxue smeared saliva on Tian Qingyi’s clothes before scratching her face during a playful climb. Ruoshui’s scolding startled the child, leaving faint red marks easily overlooked.

“You’ve cared for her well through immense hardship,” Tian Qingyi acknowledged, producing Ruoshui’s deed of servitude. “From today, your path is yours to choose. But let past matters rest with your restored commoner status.”

As Ruoshui tearfully accepted the document, Dongxue wiped her “mother’s” tears, having adopted the title indiscriminately. “No family or alternatives remain,” Ruoshui explained. “I beg to serve you lifelong.”

Tian Qingyi agreed, assigning her to continue assisting Shi Qian at the tavern while minding Dongxue. Ruoshui’s retention was essential—her knowledge posed risks if unsupervised.

Questioning revealed Liu Daniang’s death wasn’t agonizing—some comfort. Notably, Liu Daniang had consistently claimed only-child status, her husband recruited solely for lineage continuation. Most puzzling was her unsurprised reaction to assassins—as if anticipating them.

Next, Shi Qian entered. Before she could bow, Tian Qingyi rose solemnly: “I deeply regret your brother’s death.”

The mention shattered Shi Qian’s composure. Though prepared for sacrificial duty, its abruptness is still devastating. Tian Qingyi, awkward with female tears, could only sigh helplessly until Shi Qian recovered.

“To die for you was his honor,” Shi Qian rasped. “No apology needed.”

Presenting both siblings’ deeds, Tian Qingyi increased Shi Qian’s tavern profits by 10%, covering Ruoshui’s wages from her own share. Beyond pawned items, she’d supplemented their compensation from her salary.

Restoring their freedom was deliberate—acknowledging the mission’s unforeseen brutality. Only thus could loyalty be preserved. She sought not servile gratitude but reciprocal integrity. To her, they’d always been individuals, never chattel.

“Are you discarding me?” Shi Qian recoiled, misinterpreting.

“You’ll always remain if you are willing,” Tian Qingyi clarified. “This grants commoner status, not dismissal.”

Reassured, Shi Qian vowed: “I’ll fulfill my brother’s legacy in your service.”

Their unconditional loyalty shamed Tian Qingyi’s earlier suspicions. Unspoken promises became unnecessary—she’d naturally assist if needed.

Disguised for this visit, Tian Qingyi hurried home, changing before Yun Jingchu’s return from shop inspections. She urgently needed to discuss Dongxue’s custody—directly entrusting Ruoshui with external housing risked exposure and marital complications.