Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 87

87: Yun Jingchu’s Midnight Interrogation

Days passed, and Kaifeng welcomed its first snowfall of winter. On her days off, Tian Qingyi mostly stayed home, declining most banquet invitations unless they were unavoidable.

After inspecting all the shops and estates, Yun Jingchu also shifted her focus to daily management and off-season flowers. With the arrival of snow in Kaifeng, fresh flowers hit the market again as usual.

Kaifeng was never short of wealthy and powerful people, and even commoners loved fresh flowers, so off-season blooms sold out quickly. The elite, of course, placed orders in advance and had them delivered.

Yun Jingchu remained busy until Yuchen’s birthday. Remembering how they had missed the past few celebrations due to work, she and Tian Qingyi made time for a full day’s celebration, inviting Fan Zhuzhu, Li Yan, and Wanyue.

Though the guest list was small, the banquet’s standards and rituals were no less lavish than those of other children their age.

As the wine flowed freely, Li Yan glanced at Yuchen, then at Tian Qingyi, and couldn’t help but remark, “Yuchen looks more and more like Zimo as she grows. They say a son who resembles his father is blessed—our Yuchen is surely destined for good fortune.”

“Her father is an official, her mother runs a business, and the family has some wealth. She was born to enjoy life, and she’ll continue to do so. Of course, our Wanyue is just as fortunate.” Fan Zhuzhu smiled, patting Wanyue’s head. She used to dismiss the saying that people who live together start to look alike, but seeing Tian Qingyi and Yuchen now, she almost believed it.

Proud of being compared to her father, Yuchen puffed out her still-flat chest. Wanyue, meanwhile, felt a pang of envy. She wished she had an uncle like Tian Qingyi for a father. But her own father had died before she was born, and her mother rarely spoke of him. The servants had nothing good to say either.

Careless words may reveal much to an attentive listener. Yun Jingchu frowned, studying Tian Qingyi and Yuchen closely. The resemblance was uncanny—six or seven parts out of ten. Unlike Fan Zhuzhu, Yun Jingchu understood heredity, and her mind raced with possibilities.

Though turmoil churned inside, Yun Jingchu’s expression remained calm. It wasn’t until the banquet ended and they were lying in bed after washing up that she finally spoke, staring at the canopy.

“This ‘close friend’ of yours… who exactly is she? Why does Yuchen look so much like you?”

Drowsy moments earlier, Tian Qingyi’s eyes flew open. When Li Yan had pointed it out at the banquet, she was worried—but after stealing glances at Yun Jingchu and seeing no reaction, she’d assumed the matter was dropped.

Now, Yun Jingchu has ambushed her. The excuses she’d prepared earlier wouldn’t fool Yun Jingchu—or even herself. She could lie effortlessly to others, but never to Yun Jingchu.

“Is the truth really so hard to say?” When Tian Qingyi stayed silent, Yun Jingchu sighed in disappointment, feeling betrayed by broken promises.

Misjudging the gravity of the situation, Tian Qingyi said sadly, “I don’t want to lie to you. I just can’t explain the real reason yet. Give me a month, okay?”

“Fine. Then for this month, we’ll sleep separately.” Yun Jingchu turned her back, making her displeasure clear.

Tian Qingyi immediately clung to her, pleading softly, “Can we skip the separate rooms?”

“No! If you can’t even tell me the truth, what right do you have to make demands?” Yun Jingchu slapped her hand away, her voice sharp with anger.

Rarely so shameless, Tian Qingyi inched closer—but Yun Jingchu retreated each time, until she nearly rolled off the bed. Terrified, Tian Qingyi grabbed her arm, swore to keep her distance, and scrambled back. Only then did Yun Jingchu lie down again.

True to her word, Yun Jingchu had Tian Qingyi’s belongings moved to the study the next morning, claiming official duties required her to work late.

From then on, Yun Jingchu gave Tian Qingyi the cold shoulder in private. Only around others—especially Yuchen—did she act as before, so convincingly that Tian Qingyi sometimes doubted which version was real.

But whichever it was, she loved her. Yun Jingchu’s anger was justified—she’d withheld the truth. This was her penance. It hurt, but she bore it without complaint.

Unaware of the tension, Yuchen remained cheerful. Yun Jingchu, reasonable and fond of the child after all these years, didn’t take her frustration out on her.

Though never particularly fond of children, Yun Jingchu genuinely adored Yuchen—so different from her own siblings, gentle, obedient, and soft-skinned. It was impossible not to love her.

Her coldness toward Tian Qingyi wasn’t absolute. They still spoke daily, and Yun Jingchu accepted her care—but any attempt at intimacy was swiftly shut down.

Since Yun Jingchu turned twenty, their time together had never been so chaste. Close enough to touch, but no further.

Tian Qingyi understood her anger but was powerless. Not unwilling to explain—but unable. Until her meeting with Ma Zhusege, she could say nothing. That meeting would decide everything—life or death. No middle ground.

Sometimes, she revisited that dream. If she really died, this distance might be for the best—Yun Jingchu’s grief would be easier to bear.

The only regret was that Yun Jingchu and the others might suffer for her actions.

If, like in the dream, she returned to the modern era, that wouldn’t be so bad. Her family and friends were there. But she’d never love again—across time and space, there was only one Yun Jingchu.

Still, that was the worst-case scenario. If negotiation bought her life, she wouldn’t throw it away.

After all, it was just a dream. Whether death would send her back was uncertain—but the dream had given her courage. Even if she died, she’d break free!

Tian Qingyi attended the yamen as usual. The Ministry of Personnel oversaw the entire bureaucracy, and with the late Emperor Zhao Heng’s expansion of hereditary appointments, their workload had surged.

As a mid-to-high-ranking official, she delegated most tasks to subordinates, simply supervising progress.

Many sought to curry favor with her, but to avoid suspicion and unwanted requests, she declined most invitations—except those from Chief Councillor Wang and other high ministers.

On the night of the fourteenth, Chief Councillor Wang hosted a banquet for his faction. Tian Qingyi, unavoidably, attended—despite having taken leave for the next day.

During the banquet, Wang spoke with her—ostensibly offering concern, but mostly seeking insider insights from the Ministry of Personnel. Forced to align, Tian Qingyi shared what she could.

Before leaving, Wang tasked her with expediting a certain Yuan’s promotion. Pressuring the clerks didn’t violate her principles, so she agreed.

By the time she returned home, it was past midnight. Qingyu informed her Yun Jingchu and the others were already asleep. After gazing at the full moon, she washed up and retired.

At dawn, Tian Qingyi awoke and summoned Zhou Ba. By the time he arrived, she’d finished washing and dressing. After dismissing the servants, she handed him a letter from her desk.

“If I haven’t returned by nightfall, open this and follow its instructions.”

Zhou Ba’s contracted service had long ended, and Tian Qingyi had given him the choice to leave. To her surprise, he stayed, claiming he was “tired of the underworld violence and wished to live out his years in peace.”

The real reason went unspoken—his troublemaking, spendthrift younger brother, doted on by their mother, kept Zhou Ba sending money home. Tian Qingyi’s generous wages made staying worthwhile.

“Understood.” The aging but still muscular Zhou Ba tucked the letter away.

Satisfied with his loyalty, Tian Qingyi dismissed him without further instructions.

Next, she spoke privately with Ruoshui and Wei Shier—giving the latter a letter for Yun Jingchu if she didn’t return by dark.

In full daylight, after breakfast, Tian Qingyi stood for a long moment by the bed where Yun Jingchu still slept before leaving. She visited the family shrine, where Yuchen and Wanyue were already reciting morning lessons.

Finally, she paid respects to Fan Zhuzhu at Qinxiang Residence, exchanging small talk before departing. Due to strict early Northern Song regulations, her sixth-rank status didn’t qualify Fan Zhuzhu for the honorific titles and trappings she coveted.

Tian Qingyi wasn’t afraid of death—only of dragging Yun Jingchu and the others down with her. Ma Zhusege’s ruthlessness meant failure would doom them like Shang Yan’s family. She couldn’t allow that.

She couldn’t bear to lose them or disrupt their peace. But if the worst came, her preparations would be necessary.

Though her heart ached with reluctance, her steps toward the gate never faltered—even as she fought the urge to look back.