The crescent moon hanging high in the sky gradually became full.
The sensational case of sealing Yuqing Tower, which had shocked the capital, was officially concluded on the eve of the Mid-Autumn Festival in August. The Ministry of Justice arrested eight enemy spies and 38 involved officials, with over 500 people implicated. Sentences were handed down according to the severity of involvement.
The government gazette published news about the northern country's spy base. All the previous rumors circulating in neighborhoods and teahouses about love affairs, young masters quarreling with each other, and smashing up taverns over some girl were swept away.
"With the Yuqing Tower case closed, the arson case in Seven Scholars Lane has also been solved."
On the evening of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the Adoptive Mother managed to cook a few of her specialty dishes using a small medicinal pot.
Looking at the full moon gradually revealing itself in the night sky, the Adoptive Mother sighed and said, "A minor eighth-rank official, surname Bian, called Judicial Officer Bian. He was even good friends with Chief Clerk Zhou's family living on the west side of the alley. How could he be so heartless as to burn down the entire Zhou family just for some money?"
"It wasn't just about money, but also about career advancement in the officialdom. Besides, he didn't do it himself, so he thought he wouldn't be found out."
Ying Xiaoman poured wine into her mother's cup and her own, and filled a cup with honey water for Zhi.
"Judicial Officer Bian's path for disposing of the stolen goods led him to Yuqing Tower, where he became acquainted with Manager Fang. After Chief Clerk Zhou was arrested, the hidden account book in his study kept Bian awake at night, so he went to Yuqing Tower for advice. Manager Fang wrote the character for 'fire' for him."
"An assassin set the Zhou family home ablaze, reducing it to ashes. Judicial Officer Bian slept at home as if nothing had happened. Chief Clerk Zhou knew nothing about Yuqing Tower. It's truly heaven's will that this case could be solved."
The Adoptive Mother murmured Buddhist chants as she listened, then got up to bow a few times before the shrine that housed a jade ruyi scepter and a painting of the Goddess of Mercy.
Mother and daughter clinked their cups under the full moon above.
"It's the fifteenth of the eighth month."
"By next month's full moon, we should be halfway home under the round, bright moon in the sky."
"Mm-hmm."
"Seventh Young Master won't be coming tonight, right? His family must be having their own Mid-Autumn Festival feast. Last time I heard the Sui Family Youngster mention it, goodness me, the Yan Family is so large. They say there are thirty-six brothers of the same generation. Just the toasts during the meal would take half an hour."
Ying Xiaoman looked up at the clear moon: "He said he'd try to come by our small courtyard in the evening, and won't be returning to his own home. He's been at the government office day and night these past few days."
The Adoptive Mother asked puzzledly, "Hasn't the case been solved? Why is he even busier now?"
"The Yuqing Tower case and the Seven Scholars Lane arson case have been solved," Ying Xiaoman sighed, putting some meat on Zhi's plate.
"But the major case of stolen weapons from the national armory that they started investigating last autumn and winter is still weighing on their hands."
The Adoptive Mother also sighed as she took a sip of wine.
"Oh my, this wine tastes good!"
She poured a second cup with interest, holding it up to examine: "Which winery is this from? Let's take a bottle back home to offer at your father's grave."
Mentioning offerings for the grave reminded the Adoptive Mother of the iron lump that had been used as evidence.
"Remember to ask Seventh Young Master to return it when they're done with it. Your father had that stubborn donkey temperament, never admitting defeat until he hit rock bottom. Placing that iron lump on his grave will remind him how he was deceived, so he can learn his lesson in the afterlife."
"I understand." Ying Xiaoman took a sip of wine, licking the corner of her lips. A familiar fragrant aroma spread over her tongue.
"This wine is Jade Tower Spring."
The clear radiance of the full moon showered down upon the earth.
The Ministry of Justice office was brightly lit. The investigation of the major case of stolen refined iron weapons from the Ministry of War had reached its final stages. The involved officials were interrogating witnesses, examining physical evidence, and reviewing old case files day and night. This major case spanning over twenty years had caused many to miss out on their Mid-Autumn Festival family reunions.
Eleventh Young Master's desk was on the left, Yan Rongshi's desk was on the right. Eighth Young Master Yan's desk was placed at the lower end. Many officials on duty were coming and going.
When the moonlight shone through the window onto the polished stone floor like water, Yan Rongshi put down his brush and instructed Eighth Young Master: "It's rare to have the fifteenth of the eighth month, you should head home first."
Eighth Young Master Yan looked up from the pile of confession papers, revealing a pair of dark, lifeless eyes.
"This humble official can endure. This humble official can continue working."
"Go home," Yan Rongshi said without looking up, giving orders from amidst the documents:
"Your mother is waiting for you at home. If you don't return tonight, your mother will surely think I've harmed you, and might come to the government office tomorrow morning with disheveled hair to beat the drum and cry injustice."
The corner of Eighth Young Master Yan's mouth twitched a few times.
Given his mother's temperament, it wasn't impossible.
He put down his brush and floated out with unsteady steps.
Eleventh Young Master sneered: "With your brother's temperament, he probably won't be grateful that you let him go home for Mid-Autumn Festival. He's likely cursing you in his heart for insulting his mother."
"Let him be," Yan Rongshi said indifferently, pulling out a confession statement and scanning through it rapidly.
He then said to Eleventh Young Master: "You should return to the palace. It's not good to be absent from the Mid-Autumn family banquet."
Eleventh Young Master indeed intended to leave. He took a few steps away from his seat but then walked back.
"You're not leaving yourself? You're not going back to Changle Alley tonight?"
"It's the night of family reunion on the fifteenth of the eighth month," Yan Rongshi asked flatly. "Who would I see if I went back to Changle Alley?"
Eleventh Young Master was stumped.
Seventh Young Master had been his childhood study companion, and they knew each other inside out. How could he not know about the situation in Changle Alley?
When Minister Yan was still alive, he particularly valued Seventh Young Master, often keeping him by his side to teach and guide him.
The saying "My family's young qilin" was what Minister Yan proudly declared about his young grandson at a palace banquet.
From then on, Seventh Young Master's reputation soared. At such a young age, he was able to associate with many renowned scholars in the capital.
Compared to Seventh Young Master, this favored grandson, Seventh Young Master's father was just an ordinary, unremarkable son.
Before his death, Minister Yan designated Seventh Young Master as the next head of the Yan Family, when Seventh Young Master was only twelve years old. Minister Yan even skipped over his other sons, ordering Seventh Young Master's father to temporarily take the position of family head.
Not only were Seventh Young Master's uncles and cousins dissatisfied, but his own father was also displeased.
How Yan Rongshi specifically spent those years in the Yan Family, he kept quiet about it, and even Eleventh Young Master, his lifelong friend, wasn't very clear. In any case, Yan Rongshi's mother passed away in depression during those years. After he turned twenty and came of age, his father still didn't comply with Minister Yan's dying wish, refusing to hand over the position of family head to his son.
The Yan Family's young qilin, who had shown such outstanding talent in his youth, gradually developed into the calm and reserved character he later became. Outwardly compliant but inwardly firm, meticulous in thought, and impenetrable.
After his father was struck down by a severe cold, his illness made him even more suspicious, and he became increasingly wary of his own son, often cursing and slapping him. Seventh Young Master remained expressionless, attending to his father day and night, getting splashed with medicine water all over, yet still going about his duties as usual, reporting for duty and attending court as required.
Eventually, even the emperor was alarmed and inquired why a descendant of a noble family was being so cruelly treated. That day, an imperial edict was issued transferring him from the Editorial Institute where he had been compiling historical records to the Secretariat, appointing him as a Diarist of the Emperor's Daily Activities.
It was an imperial edict issued directly from the palace, bypassing the various levels of officials in the Six Ministries, and delivered straight into Yan Rongshi's hands.
Yan Rongshi tucked the imperial edict into his sleeve and returned home as if nothing had happened, not mentioning a word.
The transfer maintained his rank as a sixth-grade official. He didn't even need to change his official robes.
The next day, he got up as usual, and after attending to his ill father in the morning, he went straight to the palace in whatever state his clothes were in.
Serving in the imperial presence, recording the emperor's activities. The emperor stared at him for a long while.
His father's severe cold had not fully recovered when several elder statesmen who had been close to Minister Yan jointly entered the palace to have an audience with the emperor, bringing up old matters again.
They mentioned what Minister Yan had repeatedly told his old friends:
[I'm just waiting for my Seventh Young Master to come of age, then he can take over as the head of the family and revitalize the Yan Family.]
This happened three years ago. Yan Rongshi was twenty-one at the time.
After becoming the youngest head of a prominent family in the capital, Yan Rongshi politely moved his father to their ancestral home in their hometown to recuperate, along with more than a dozen uncles and elders. Before they left, he gifted them with a sentence: "The scenery and rustic charm of the countryside are good for cultivating one's character and calming one's spirit."
The scenery and rustic charm of the countryside are good for cultivating one's character and calming one's spirit. Faced with the beautiful mountains, waters, and scenery they couldn't see in the capital, three elders died of anger within a year.
Three years of Mid-Autumn full moons, time flies.
Grandfather, father, mother. In any case, several close blood relatives were gone. Past grievances were put to rest.
There was still an old, forgetful grandmother in the large mansion in Changle Alley, who happily asked every day, "Where is my Seventh Young Master?"
Eleventh Young Master had already walked out the door, standing in the bright Mid-Autumn moonlight. He turned back and advised, "It would be good to go back and see your grandmother."
Yan Rongshi got up to see him out, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, only saying, "I have my own place to go. You should head back."
The moonlight overhead shifted.
The bright moonlight moved among the clouds, gradually rising to the zenith.
The craftsman from the Ministry of Works, who had been summoned alone for questioning, stood before the long table. He carefully handed back the half-melted iron lump with both hands and presented a newly forged iron key.
"In response to Junior Minister Yan, this humble one tried every method to make a mold and repair it to match the original. I'm almost certain the original iron key looked like this. But whether it can actually open the lock, we'll need to try it in person."
Yan Rongshi picked up the small copper ring at the top of the key, lifting the heavy iron key before his face to examine it in the moonlight.
"An extremely hefty key. Not like one used for chests or cabinets."
"Indeed, too large for a cabinet key," the craftsman agreed. "It looks more like a key for a storehouse gate."
Yan Rongshi shook the weighty key.
"I've seen many storehouse keys. Few are this heavy."
The craftsman, who had seen his fair share of storehouse keys, thought for a moment and said, "This humble one has had the fortune to see one of the bronze locks for the three imperial armories in the capital. That key was about this size."
Yan Rongshi had been to all three imperial armories in the capital.
He recalled the gates of the armory storehouses. "I remember they were cast from a single iron plate, nine feet tall, with two doors closing together."
"Yes, yes. It takes four strong men working together to push them open," the craftsman added. "This humble one often repairs weapons and has seen the armory unlocked a few times in person. The two iron doors have extremely thick bronze handle bars, with an incredibly heavy iron padlock. The keyhole is large and round, requiring an exceptionally large iron key to open it."
Clang~ Clang~
The heavy iron key in his hand struck against the copper ring, making a faint crisp sound.
Yan Rongshi put away the key and instructed the craftsman.
"This matter is top secret, I hope you'll keep your mouth shut. If we can successfully crack this big case, your name will be reported for merit. If it leaks out, you'll be suspected of colluding with the enemy. You know the gravity of this."
"Don't make a fuss when you leave. Don't alarm others."
At the Ying family's small courtyard on the west side of the government office, the cold dishes had been reheated twice.
Zhi's eyes were brimming with tears as she yawned, "Seventh Young Master hasn't come yet? I'm so sleepy..."
Ying Xiaoman peeled a newly in-season persimmon and fed her a little bit. "Is it tasty?"
Zhi chewed with her mouth closed. "It's so sweet, delicious."
"Eat slowly while we wait. If Seventh Young Master still hasn't arrived after you finish half a persimmon, you can go to bed."
While Zhi was happily munching on the persimmon, Ying Xiaoman added, "From now on, don't call him Seventh Young Master. Call him Seventh Brother."
"Huh?" Zhi asked in confusion, "We're calling him Seventh Brother again? Why?"
"You call the Sui Family Youngster 'Brother Sui', and even call the Shen Family Eldest Son 'Brother Shen'," Ying Xiaoman said while helping to peel the persimmon skin. "When you see Seventh Young Master, you should call him brother even more. Seventh Young Master is closer to our family."
It made sense. Zhi obediently changed her address. "Okay, I'll call him Seventh Brother."
The Adoptive Mother, facing the table full of dishes, took a sip of wine with relish, put down her cup and said, "No need to rush. Wait until Seventh Young Master goes back to our hometown with us, visits your father's grave, burns some spirit money, offers a pot of good wine brought from the capital, lets your father know underground, then have Zhi change how she addresses him on the spot. From then on, Seventh Young Master will be counted as a close person to our family."
It made even more sense. Ying Xiaoman and Zhi both agreed obediently. "Alright."
The sound of footsteps approaching came from outside.
Zhi, with half a persimmon still uneaten in her hand, jumped up happily to open the door: "Seventh Young Master is here!"
Yan Rongshi came carrying a large food container.
The three-tiered container was packed full with eight dishes and one soup. Six meat dishes, two vegetable dishes, and the soup was still piping hot.
"Ordered signature dishes from a nearby restaurant," he said.
Mountain-boiled lamb, orange stuffed with crab, chicken with fermented black beans, preserved goose, sliced perch... Various famous dishes from the capital were laid out one by one. Along with the six appetizers the Ying family had prepared themselves, there were fourteen dishes in total, an extremely sumptuous feast that the stone table in the small courtyard couldn't fit at all.
The Adoptive Mother bustled about moving the long wooden table by the courtyard wall to the center of the small yard, finally managing to fit all fourteen large dishes. The three adults and one child sat on opposite sides, with the Adoptive Mother and Zhi on the north side, Ying Xiaoman and Seventh Young Master facing them.
Fresh chopsticks, bowls, spoons, and wine cups were set out in front of each person.
"I'm late," Yan Rongshi said as he took the chopsticks and spoon, amusedly pinching Zhi's yawning little cheek. He was somewhat surprised.
"I originally planned these dishes for a late-night meal. You haven't eaten yet?"
"Zhi has eaten, but mother and I waited for you," Ying Xiaoman said, shaking the wine jug that her mother had already drunk half empty, and placing a second jug of wine on the table.
"We know you're busy over there. It's a rare Mid-Autumn Festival, and you're not going home to celebrate. We couldn't let you eat alone at the office and call that a celebration, could we?"
She filled three empty cups on the table one by one and placed them in front of each person.
"Alright, regardless of how many people, we're together to feast and celebrate. Mother, Seventh Young Master is here, raise your cup!"
The Adoptive Mother had drunk quite a bit of wine tonight. However, her alcohol tolerance was clearly much better than her daughter's. Her face showed no signs of intoxication, only a hint of tipsiness bringing out a rare display of joy. At Ying Xiaoman's urging, the Adoptive Mother raised her cup without hesitation.
"This is our Ying family's first Mid-Autumn Festival in the capital. Nothing much to say, just hope everyone stays safe and sound."
Ying Xiaoman happily raised her cup: "To the beautiful moonlight of the Mid-Autumn Festival."
Yan Rongshi raised his cup at the same time: "To the bright moon of Mid-Autumn, may there be peace across the four seas."
Zhi looked left and right, then raised her cup of honey water, struggling for a moment before blurting out: "Cheers!"
Tonight they ate and drank to their heart's content, enjoying the feast thoroughly. The only regret was that there wasn't enough wine.
Ying Xiaoman pulled out the wine bottle cork, dripping the last drops into the wine cups.
"Two jugs of wine gone so quickly," she muttered. "I barely had two cups. Mother drank so much tonight."
"It wouldn't be a problem for me to have someone bring another jug," Yan Rongshi said leisurely, shaking the empty jug before setting it down. "But I'm afraid someone might get drunk and, in front of the child at home, call out 'Seventh Young Master, darling—'"
Ying Xiaoman rushed over to cover his mouth.
"Don't say it," she whispered. "Mother doesn't know."
Yan Rongshi whispered back, "Don't worry, your mother is happily eating and drinking, she's not necessarily paying attention to our conversation."
It was a rare Mid-Autumn feast, and the Adoptive Mother was indeed still eating and drinking with great enthusiasm, occasionally putting a few bites of good food into Zhi's mouth. Zhi's belly was already round and full. Ying Xiaoman picked up the yawning little girl and took her to the room to put her to bed.
While coaxing Zhi to sleep, she vaguely heard the sound of conversation from outside. Her mother's voice sounded very clear and happy, chattering away with Seventh Young Master opposite her about many people and affairs from their hometown.
Zhi had already fallen asleep, her cheeks flushed red. Ying Xiaoman gently wiped her face and washed her hands and feet, changed into a light sleeping gown, pulled back the bedding, and tucked the child's flailing little hands and feet under the covers.
Yan Rongshi was still in the small courtyard, casually chatting with the seemingly very sober old lady.
"I was born in the year of Gengwu, on the fifteenth day of the first month, at noon. Do you need me to write down my birth hour and date?"
"Yes," the Adoptive Mother said regretfully. "I've been illiterate all my life. Fortunately, my girl can read and write, her handwriting is neat and tidy. Even the village teacher praised her writing."
As she spoke, she became even more regretful: "It's a pity that when she was young, our family was poor and didn't have extra money for tuition to hire a teacher. The girl never formally attended school, only audited classes for a few years."
Yan Rongshi took out a pre-prepared red card with a hard cover from his bosom. Using the Ying family's brush and ink, he began to write down his birth hour and date in front of them.
As he wrote, he said, "It's alright. If Xiaoman wants to learn in the future, I will teach her."
The Adoptive Mother was extremely delighted: "Seventh Young Master, you have a good temperament and patience. You'll definitely teach better than a school teacher."
After chatting idly for a few sentences, the conversation returned to the topic of birth dates and times.
"Is there no chance to know Xiaoman's birth hour and date? Were any clues left back then?"
"The old man didn't say anything. In any case, when Xiaoman was brought home, she looked like she wasn't even a month old. She was brought home on the day of the Xiaoman solar term, at the brightest time of the sun, so we'll just say she was born on Xiaoman, at noon."
Yan Rongshi silently calculated sixteen years ago: "Then it should be: Year of Wuyin, fifth month, twentieth day, born at noon."
After carefully inquiring about the Ying family's ancestral home, as he put away the paper and brush, he specially reminded the Adoptive Mother:
"Before you take Zhi out of the capital this time, it's best to ask the old neighbors in Tongluo Alley if anyone remembers Zhi's birth hour and date. It's better to record a copy and bring it back as soon as possible."
"Oh my," the Adoptive Mother had almost really forgotten, and repeatedly thanked him.
Yan Rongshi then said, "There's one more thing..."
While Ying Xiaoman was in the room putting Zhi to sleep, she watched her adoptive mother rummaging through the living room, taking out an object and chattering with Seventh Young Master for half a day before seeing him off.
Zhi had fallen into a deep sleep on the kang bed when her adoptive mother returned. Ying Xiaoman asked curiously, "What did you just take from the room and give to Seventh Young Master?"
The adoptive mother seemed clearheaded but forgetful, sitting on the edge of the kang and thinking for a while before answering, "The swaddling clothes."
"What?"
"Seventh Young Master said that day wasn't really your true birthday. He wanted to take your swaddling clothes to ask around, hoping to find clues about your birth parents. So I opened the trunk and gave them to him."
Ying Xiaoman bristled.
"Mom! Didn't I tell you to keep them hidden away and not show them to anyone?"
The adoptive mother thought for a while again, "Did you? I forgot."
"..."
Ying Xiaoman finally noticed something was off. Her adoptive mother was drunk!
She helped her adoptive mother wash up and go to bed. The older woman hiccupped and mumbled contentedly, "He asked for your birth details. Seventh Young Master is a good lad."
"..."
Ying Xiaoman: "Mom, did you give them to him?"
"He gave me his own, why shouldn't I give yours?" The adoptive mother proudly pulled out a red card from her bosom and slapped it on the table. "Look, Seventh Young Master's own birth details. My, his handwriting is beautiful."
The bright red paper caught Ying Xiaoman's eye, making her heart skip a beat. She reached out and flipped through the card.
Indeed, it was written in beautiful regular script. The names of his grandparents and parents, family origins, and birth date and time were all clearly written.
"Mom, we haven't taken Seventh Young Master back to our hometown yet, he hasn't paid respects at Dad's grave, and Dad hasn't appeared in our dreams. How could you... agree to exchange birth details already?"
"We did!" The adoptive mother admired the red paper with satisfaction, "Seventh Young Master is a good lad, why not exchange? Before he left, he said he'd write your birth details for you and bring them over tomorrow morning. In a few days, he'll send an elder from his family to formally exchange birth details with our family."
"What about Dad? Are we not considering him?"
"If your father dares to stand in the way of the good son-in-law I've chosen, I'll go argue with him at his grave in the middle of the night!"
"..."
Her adoptive mother had made the decision and given the birth details, what else could be said? Everyone had gone to bed. Ying Xiaoman was left speechless as she blew out the oil lamp and closed the door on her way out.
They'd have to wait until her adoptive mother woke up and sobered up to discuss this further!