Chapter Seventy-Nine: Bestowal of Titles

The next evening, as every member of the Wen family waited eagerly, Wen Qiran finally returned, utterly exhausted, and stepped over the fire basin that had been prepared for him.

When Wen Qiran caught sight of the clan patriarch and several elders, he was momentarily surprised. He bowed respectfully and said, "Thank you, Patriarch, and all the elders, for your concern."

The patriarch nodded slightly, the lines on his face deepening, and sighed. "Fortunately, it was only a demotion by one rank and a two-year forfeiture of salary. I was truly afraid..."

The elders nodded as well. "We're just glad you're safe. The ancestors must have watched over us this time."

"Unpredictable are the storms of life," Wen Qiran replied. "I will henceforth govern with caution and diligence, so as not to cause further worry."

"Master, perhaps you should bathe and change first," suggested Steward Zhou.

Wen Qiran agreed and followed the steward away.

Madam Wen glanced sideways at the patriarch with a faint snort, thinking to herself, You old men make it sound so easy. None of the pain falls on you, of course you don't feel it. Whenever the clan needs money, they come straight to my husband. Two years' wages may not seem much, but it's still a source of income. The estate is already stretched thin—how can we manage now? Those few farms with poor yields are far from enough. If only we had access to Seventh Daughter's dowry...

"Mother," Wen Jing suddenly said, her eyes fixed on Madam Wen with a meaningful smile.

Madam Wen snapped out of her thoughts, startled by the knowing look in Wen Jing's eyes. She composed herself quickly and smiled. "What is it, Seventh Daughter?"

"Mother, you should instruct the kitchen to prepare the dishes. Father will be ready to dine after his bath," Wen Jing said.

"Of course. Nurse He, tell the kitchen to serve the food," Madam Wen ordered.

Nurse He hurried off to obey.

Once Wen Qiran had bathed and changed, everyone gathered around two tables, exchanging polite greetings, though Wen Qiran himself was clearly preoccupied. He had already learned of the three recent cases from Assistant Minister Gu Hengzhong of the Ministry of Rites. He suspected another miscarriage of justice: Sixi had died with no one to testify for him, and the other scholar’s confession was likely coerced. Assistant Minister Zhao Shenghua of the Ministry of Justice—his former colleague—had a reputation for ruthlessness and swift conclusions, often at odds with Wen Qiran when they worked together. Now, left unchecked by his superiors, Zhao was even more unrestrained.

"In recent years, our family has been plagued by misfortune," the patriarch began, turning to Wen Qiran. "Just days ago, I consulted a geomancer, who said there is a place of baleful energy in our ancestral burial grounds—unsuitable for coffins."

Madam Wen listened intently, inwardly scoffing. Yet another excuse to extort money. Inventing pretexts and hiring a geomancer for a story—only her husband would believe such trickery.

"Is there really such a thing..." Wen Qiran pondered. "That plot of land was chosen by Great-grandfather after consulting a renowned geomancer. Since moving our ancestral tombs there, our family has prospered—apart from minor setbacks, we've enjoyed smooth careers and peace at home. Are we truly to relocate the graves again?"

The patriarch shook his head. "No, not all. The geomancer said only one grave must be shifted—five zhang to the south—and the family’s fortunes will be restored."

"Which grave is it?" Wen Qiran asked, puzzled.

The patriarch paused. "The tomb of Madam Chu."

Clatter! Madam Wen’s chopsticks fell to the table, her eyes flickering with panic before she masked her expression. Wen Jing, observing her, grew suspicious.

Wen Qiran was equally taken aback. "Patriarch, my late wife has been buried there for over a decade. If her resting place was truly ill-omened, why has this only now become apparent?"

Madam Wen quietly called for a fresh pair of chopsticks and took a bite of food.

"I put that very question to the geomancer," the patriarch continued. "He claimed that when the 'baleful eye' in the earth was unblocked, the negative energy could dissipate on its own. But after it was sealed, over the years, the danger has grown. Now, only relocating Madam Chu’s tomb and inviting a Daoist priest to exorcise the evil will suffice."

Wen Jing did not fully believe in geomancy, but she knew many—even today—put great stock in it. What caught her attention was Madam Wen’s rare loss of composure at the mention of moving her mother's tomb. Madam Wen was usually unflappable—yet she’d been so startled she’d dropped her chopsticks...

"If that is what the patriarch deems best," Wen Qiran replied, "I must first consult my father-in-law, Lord Chu."

"Naturally," the patriarch agreed.

"Master, Eunuch Leng is here," Steward Zhou announced, hurrying in.

Eunuch Li? Wen Qiran’s heart skipped a beat. Having recently been demoted, any imperial decree made him fearful of further punishment.

Everyone quickly set down their bowls and hurried out to kneel in the courtyard, anxiety etched on their faces. Was His Majesty dissatisfied with the previous sentence, and about to order a further demotion?

"By the Emperor’s decree—Wen Family’s Seventh Daughter, for her meritorious assistance in the recent examination case, is hereby appointed as Justice Reviewer at the Court of Judicial Review, to report for duty at a later date." Eunuch Leng read the decree, double-checking the script. He had delivered many edicts, but a female official—this was a first. Few such positions had ever existed, even in previous dynasties. Who exactly was this Seventh Daughter of the Wen family?

Seventh Daughter?! The entire Wen family was dumbstruck. Even Wen Jing herself was stunned.

Still kneeling in disbelief, the group was roused by Eunuch Leng’s impatience: "Wen Seventh Daughter, come forward and receive the decree!"

"Thank you for Your Majesty’s great kindness," Wen Jing replied, crawling forward to accept the edict. She read it again, confirming it was correct.

Madam Wen and Lady Ping exchanged wide-eyed, astonished glances; Fifth and Ninth Daughters, in addition to shock, showed signs of jealousy, while Eighth Daughter looked genuinely pleased.

Wen Qiran ordered a silver ingot to be given to Eunuch Leng.

"My thanks. I take my leave," the eunuch said with a smile.

"See Eunuch Leng out," Wen Qiran told Steward Zhou.

"Yes, Master."

After the eunuch had gone, everyone returned to their seats.

Wen Qiran read the edict, confirming it was indeed for Seventh Daughter. He wondered why the Emperor had suddenly chosen to appoint Wen Jing as a female official.

"Seventh Daughter, what have you done to earn such imperial favor?" the patriarch asked, bewildered. Though the post was lowly—an eighth-rank office—it was the first female appointment of its kind in this dynasty.

Wen Jing paused. "In reply, Patriarch, I merely gave some testimony at the Court of Judicial Review."

Wen Qiran understood. He knew Wen Jing had done more than testify—he himself had sent her to examine the corpse. But how had the Emperor found out? Had the young marquis spoken of her before the throne?

"A father is demoted, and the daughter is given office—what kind of example is that for the world?" the patriarch sighed heavily, echoed by several elders.

Wen Jing smiled bitterly. This was not what she wanted either. She had no idea how such an office had unexpectedly fallen upon her. The Court of Judicial Review... Would she now have to deal daily with Ji Changge, that cunning man?

"It is an imperial decree—there is no refusing it," Wen Qiran said helplessly. Clearly, the days ahead would not be peaceful.

The patriarch mused, "If Seventh Daughter were unwell, or soon to be married, could we petition the Emperor to rescind the order? After all, it’s a dispensable post."

Wen Qiran looked at Wen Jing. "Let me consider it. Be at ease, Patriarch."

"Very well. Find time to consult your father-in-law. Once the silver is gathered, I’ll begin the tomb relocation at once—it must not be delayed."

"About how much silver will that require?" Wen Qiran asked.

"A rough estimate—about one thousand taels," the patriarch replied.

What? One thousand taels? Madam Wen’s head snapped up. That much just to move a grave? Outrageous.

"Master, you’ve just lost two years’ salary, the household is already burdened with expenses—a whole family to feed. Where will we find a thousand taels?" Madam Wen whispered.

Wen Qiran’s face darkened, but he was at a loss. Household accounts were managed by Madam Wen; he had little knowledge of their true state.

"Why not just sell a shop or a farm?"

Madam Wen protested, "That would be killing the goose for its eggs. Besides, those are the dowries of our daughters. If we sell them, what will they have when they marry?"

The daughters said nothing, but their hearts grew anxious. Those dowries were the foundation of their future standing in their husbands’ homes. Without them, even if they married well, they’d have no confidence—a lifelong matter.

Wen Qiran was torn. Selling was unwise, yet without money, there was no solution, and the patriarch was pressing. Only now did he fully grasp the embarrassment of poverty.

"Mother, why not let my shop be pawned for now? We can redeem it when we have the funds," Wen Jing suggested.

The other daughters exchanged glances—if the shop was pawned and could not be redeemed, everything would be lost.

The patriarch looked at Wen Jing with approval. "Seventh Daughter, you truly have the bearing of a legitimate daughter. No wonder His Majesty holds you in such regard."

Wen Jing smiled shyly, though inwardly she sneered: Just now you were lamenting the loss of family honor, but now that I can provide money, I’m suddenly a model daughter?

Madam Wen watched Wen Jing’s demure expression, her own doubts easing somewhat. She thought, She merely wants to curry favor with the patriarch. But the tomb absolutely must not be moved. She had hoped to use lack of funds as an excuse to dissuade him, but hadn’t expected Wen Jing to volunteer her own shop as collateral. Now she was at a loss. But relocating a grave was not so easily done—if the Chu family objected, Wen Qiran couldn’t act, and the Chu clan was no minor house. Though they had distanced themselves from the Wen family in recent years, that was only out of resentment towards Wen Qiran, not indifference to their own daughter’s memory. It seemed she would have to visit her parental home herself...

(To be continued...)

ps: Second update coming soon~