Qinfang Garden

Jia Zheng took the brocade pouch and opened it. Inside was a note that read: "Instruct Baoyu to study and practice calligraphy with Jia Yun from now on."

Jia Zheng was initially delighted: "That's a good idea! Let Baoyu learn that ambition from Yun'er."

But then she thought about it again and frowned, saying, "Tell the old lady that Yun'er needs to focus on preparing for the exam now, and we'll discuss this matter again after the county exam in February. Letting Baoyu disturb her now will only distract her."

Not long after Yuanyang left, faint voices of cursing could be heard coming from Grandmother Jia's courtyard: "I've never raised a good son in my life, and now neither of them listens to me!"

The voice was full of annoyance; the old lady was clearly furious.

Jia Yun quietly left the study and returned to the small courtyard under the west corridor, which finally had some warmth thanks to the charcoal fire.

Then he carefully put away the newly acquired writing brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, clothes, and especially the books given to him by Jia Zheng.

Jia Yun knew that while talent was important on the path of the imperial examinations, recognition and support from within the family were equally indispensable. And all of this required him to earn it through his own abilities.

After the incident at Rongguo Mansion, Feng Ziying officially recognized Jia Yun as his friend, and would often come to the west corridor to find him whenever he had free time.

The day was bright and clear, so the two began to spar in the open space behind Jia Yun's small courtyard.

Feng Ziying was born into a military family with a long tradition of martial arts. His martial arts skills were solid and fierce, and his attacks were relentless and powerful.

Although Jia Yun had managed to establish a basic Bajiquan stance in the past two weeks, his training time was still relatively short, and his combat experience was far inferior to Feng Ziying's.

After twenty rounds, he was already at a disadvantage. Finally, Feng Ziying used a clever move to knock him back several steps before he could regain his balance.

"Brother Feng, you're really amazing." Jia Yun clasped his hands in greeting.

Feng Ziying, however, showed no sign of pride. Instead, after stopping his stance, he looked Jia Yun up and down, his eyes filled with astonishment: "Good heavens! Yun-ge, how long have you been practicing? You can already withstand so many of my moves! Your boxing style is fierce and violent, definitely not an ordinary style. To have reached such a level in such a short time, I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes!"

He stepped forward again and affectionately put his arm around Jia Yun's shoulder: "I see you're truly capable, skilled in both literature and martial arts. What's the point of staying cooped up in this little courtyard studying alone? In a while, I'll take you somewhere and let you see the world!"

Jia Yun asked with a smile, "Oh? Where does Brother Feng intend to take me?"

"It's a gathering at the residence of Prince Bei Jing," Feng Ziying said with great interest. "Although this prince is only eight years older than the Emperor, he is indeed his uncle."

"What's even more interesting is that the prince is the most open-minded and interesting person. He is impatient with the formalities of the court and likes to invite us young men from noble families, as well as some famous talents in the capital."

Then he invited us to his residence for long discussions, or to spar in martial arts, or to admire some ingenious objects. The prince was very approachable; if you were good at playing Cuju (ancient Chinese football), he liked you; if you could forge exquisite firearms, he appreciated you; even if you were just a little better at fishing than others, he could chat with you for half a day! He was incredibly easygoing.

Upon hearing this, Jia Yun's heart stirred slightly.

He had naturally heard of the name of Prince Bei Jing, a seemingly idle prince who only knew about romance and poetry.

He lived a life devoid of desires and ambitions, only enjoying associating with people from all walks of life and indulging in various "useless" pleasures. His behavior was truly unique among the imperial nobility.

However, a chill involuntarily crept into Jia Yun's heart at this thought. He recalled the history he knew from his previous life, those countless bloody lessons.

The imperial court is ruthless, and most prone to suspicion.

If a prince appears too eager for power and gathers too many retainers, the one on the throne may find it difficult to sleep soundly at night.

On the contrary, it is Prince Bei Jing, who is indulging in pleasure and has no great ambitions, who is able to live a peaceful and wealthy life in this treacherous power struggle.

Behind this "lack of desire and desire" lies a very clever way of self-preservation.

Thinking of this again, Jia Yun couldn't help but think of another person—Prince Xin.

Since their last argument that ended badly, there had been no further contact from Prince Xin. Jia Yun had considered taking the initiative to speak to ease the tension, but then he thought that he had done nothing wrong.

Moreover, given the distinction between ruler and subject, and the fact that Prince Xin was deep in thought, this action might be seen as a test by the other party, so they decided to leave it unmentioned.

Now it seems as if they have truly drifted apart and will no longer have any contact. The coldness and scheming involved make him even more cautious about the Prince of Bei Jing he is about to meet.

"Well? Yun-ge'er, are you interested?" Feng Ziying urged him when she saw him hesitate.

Jia Yun composed himself, his face displaying just the right amount of interest and a hint of flattery: "The Prince of Bei Jing's gathering is naturally a place that all the young men of the capital flock to. Thanks to Brother Feng's introduction, how could I possibly refuse? However, my status is too lowly, I'm afraid..."

"Hey!" Feng Ziying waved his hand dismissively, "The Prince doesn't judge people by their background, only by their genuine talent! Just based on your fighting skills just now, and the quick thinking you displayed at the manor that day, you're more than qualified! Don't worry, I've got everything covered!"

Seeing Feng Ziying's enthusiasm, Jia Yun could no longer refuse and could only nod in agreement.

Jia Yun understood that this might be an opportunity, a chance to escape the infighting within the Jia family and reach a wider world. He needed to proceed with extreme caution, showing his talent without being too conspicuous.

As for the Prince Xin line, will it end here, or will it remain dormant for the time being? Everything is still unknown.

Two days later, Jia Yun went to the gathering that Feng Ziying had mentioned, as agreed.

Upon arrival, they discovered that the gathering was not in a restaurant, but in a private garden meticulously built by a wealthy merchant outside the city.

The garden is named "Qinfang Garden". Although it is located in the north, it tries its best to imitate the elegance and ingenuity of gardens in the south.

Pavilions and towers are nestled among artificial hills and winding streams. Although it is the dead of winter, there are still hardy pine and bamboo trees to adorn the area. Rare birds hang under the eaves, and the rooms are covered with silver frost charcoal, which makes people feel as warm as spring.

At the babbling brook, hot spring water was channeled, and a few white plum trees, blooming out of season and steaming with heat, were sparsely scattered about.

Such a grand undertaking must have cost far more than ten million. The capital city is thousands of miles away from Jiangnan, and every blade of grass, every tree, every stone, and every scene must have been bought with silver—or perhaps the blood and sweat of the people.

Jia Yun sighed inwardly, then followed the young servant in blue who led the way through the corridors and courtyards to a waterside warm pavilion called "Lan Yue Xuan".

Inside the pavilion, twenty or thirty young men had already gathered. Each of them was dressed in fine clothes and exuded an air of grandeur.

The air was filled with the aromas of wine, fruit, and a faint scent of perfume, accompanied by the melodious sounds of string and wind instruments. Feng Ziying greeted him with a smile and led him inside.

Feng Ziying glanced at the crowd and whispered to him, "That one playing the zither is the young master of the Liu family, the Earl of Chengyi... Those watching the quail fight over there are the young masters of the Zhu family, the Duke of Chengguo... Oh, do you see that young man sitting alone by the window, not saying much?"

Feng Ziying gestured with his eyes to a handsome young man of about sixteen or seventeen years old, with a somewhat resolute face.

"His name is Wu Sangui, the son of Wu Xiang, the general of Liaodong. He came to Beijing with his father to report on his duties. Don't let his young age fool you; I heard he has already fought in Liaodong and seen blood."

Jia Yun's heart stirred, and she couldn't help but glance at the young man a few more times.

This is the day that will come... He suppressed his surging thoughts and looked away.

There were also many young military men dressed in tight-fitting clothes, exuding an air of authority, clearly from noble families or military households in the capital.

Everyone greeted Feng Ziying, showing that he was very popular in the industry.

Feng Ziying then introduced Jia Yun to everyone: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is my new friend, Brother Jia Yun, a member of the Jia family of Rongguo Mansion. He is very capable!"

Upon hearing this, everyone's gaze fell upon Jia Yun.

Although he was handsome and tall, he was dressed plainly and had a more refined demeanor than the typical burly warrior. His eyes held a hint of scrutiny and suspicion.

Someone else whispered to inquire which branch of the family it was, only to learn that it was a distant relative from the west corridor. The initial enthusiasm quickly cooled down, and after a polite bow and a "long time no see," they turned and went off to chat amongst themselves.

They were clearly not interested in a distant relative without any title or official position.

Jia Yun didn't mind at all; he was actually happy to have some peace and quiet. So he found an inconspicuous corner to sit down and quietly listened to the lively discussions of everyone in the pavilion.

These young nobles at the very top of the empire naturally couldn't avoid discussing current affairs.

Some vehemently denounced the rampant Jurchens in Liaodong, mentioning the Battle of Sarhu a few years prior that had wiped out tens of thousands of elite troops, their words filled with utter contempt for commanders like Yang Hao. Others worried about the severe drought in the northwest, fearing the restless displaced people might cause a major upheaval. Still others spoke of the southwestern chieftains' frequent rebellions and allegiance, highlighting the immense expense the imperial court in maintaining control over them.

However, although their discussion touched on the core issue—lack of money—their tone was alarmingly relaxed.