Embers of Chuntai - Chapter 10
Chapter 10
That time, he audited the accounts until late into the night. Before leaving, he used a red pen to circle all the errors and omissions, filling the pages.
I flipped through them; the handwriting was sharp and orderly, just like the man himself.
He said in a low voice, “In the past, you patched up my wounds. Now, I’m patching up your ledgers. Does that make us a little more even?”
I didn’t acknowledge the joke, only putting the files away.
Some debts can be settled, while others can never be balanced.
But at least, neither of us was running from the bill anymore.
In the spring of the following year, the Northern Di invaded again.
Yin Xianshan set out for war once more, temporarily handing over the seal of the Regent to the Imperial Cabinet before his departure.
The ministers argued until they were red in the face, but I said only one thing: “The army’s morale must remain stable. I will secure the grain supply lines.”
The fighting was even more fierce than the last time.
Reports of victory from the front lines and lists of casualties arrived in the capital almost on the same day.
I stayed at the Capital Office for sixteen consecutive nights, temporarily diverting the national salt tax into a military rations fund, barely managing to sustain the supplies for an army of three hundred thousand.
Someone urged me to take a rest.
I downed a mouthful of strong tea and smiled. “I’ll sleep after the war is over. Consider it a debt for now.”
Three months later, a great victory was achieved.
Yin Xianshan returned to the capital at the head of his army and was bestowed the title of Prince Ding’an.
At the victory banquet, the Emperor asked him what reward he desired.
The entire hall waited for him to request a marriage.
He rose and bowed, his voice steady.
“This subject requests the establishment of a Northern Border Charity Estate to provide for the families of fallen soldiers; I request an expansion of the enrollment for the girls’ school and permission for women to intern at local Salt Administrations; and I request the exemption of the autumn taxes for the Three Flood-stricken Commanderies of Jiangnan.”
No one mentioned a marriage.
Sitting in the lower seats, I looked at him seriously for the first time.
He had finally learned.
To love someone is not to trap her by your side.
It is to do your best to improve the world she cares about.
After the banquet, he waited for me beneath the long stone steps.
“I didn’t ask to marry you today. Are you disappointed?” he asked.
I arched an eyebrow. “I would only be disappointed if you had asked.”
He laughed.
There was a hint of exhaustion in his smile, but also a sense of relief.
“Then I did the right thing.”
The wind was light, fluttering the old red string around his wrist.
He had never taken it off.
Looking at that smear of dark red, my heart still ached slightly, but it was no longer as fatal as it once was.
That pain was more like an old wound that grows sore on rainy days, a reminder that you once lived with true intensity.
I said, “Yin Xianshan, from now on, you walk your path as a prince, and I will walk my path at Chuntai. In court, we are colleagues; in private, let us be old acquaintances.”
He nodded and replied softly, “Alright. Old acquaintances.”
Chapter 12
Later, I often said one thing to the students of the girls’ school:
“You can give away your heart, but never hand over the power of life and death along with it.”
They listened with half-understanding, so I used myself as an example.
I told them that when I was young, I too had been blind, soft, and had lost everything.
But a person doesn’t just have one version of a life to live.
As long as you are willing to change, it is never too late.
In the year I turned thirty, I entered the Secretariat and took charge of the nation’s salt administration and commercial laws.
The court historian wrote in the records:
“In the hundred-year history of Daliang, the first Female Chancellor, Shen Zhiwei.”
The capital lit lanterns for three days in my honor.
From morning till night, a constant stream of people passed before the gates of the Chuntai Bureau. Students from the girls’ school clutched ledgers and bouquets, crowding the steps and shouting, “Teacher!”
The noise gave me a headache, yet I couldn’t help but smile.
Late at night, I returned to my study. Snow was falling outside the window.
It was just like that night in the Cold Palace many years ago.
I opened an old box. Only two things remained inside:
A broken black jade toggle and a piece of letter paper with scorched edges.
That was the first letter Yin Xianshan ever wrote to me.
It contained only one sentence.
“If I can make it out alive, I will spend the rest of my life repaying you.”
He truly did spend the rest of his life repaying me.
With regret, with compensation, and with half a lifetime of restraint.
It’s just that some debts shouldn’t be repaid by “starting over.”
I placed the letter back in the box and closed the lid.
Someone tapped lightly on the door.
A maid entered to report, “Prince Ding’an has sent new salt samples from the Northern Frontier, asking for your inspection, Excellency.”
I took the wooden box, weighed it in my hand, and smiled.
“He actually remembered his official duties.”
The maid blinked and asked in a low voice, “Excellency, should we send a return gift?”
I picked up a brush, scribbled a note, and handed it over.
“Send a reply. Tell him to mind his own business less and approve more military grain.”
The maid ran off giggling.
I leaned back against my chair, listening to the snow falling against the window lattice.
My heart was very quiet.
When I was young, I thought love was the sky, fate, and the only thing that mattered.
Later, I realized that love can be very heavy, but a person cannot live for love alone.
I have loved, I have hurt, and I have been betrayed.
But I did not rot away in that old dream.
I picked myself up piece by piece, sharpened myself, stood firm, and walked until today.
If this story must have an ending…
It isn’t “He finally won her back.”
It is “She finally fulfilled herself.”
As for Yin Xianshan…
He remains in the wind and snow, guarding his mountains and rivers.
I am at Chuntai, guarding my world of mortals.
Occasionally we stand side by side, but more often, we each move forward on our own.
This is harder than “growing old together,” but it is also more real.
