CMWKSD -Chapter 70 Alarm and Paranoia

With less than a month left until the New Year, the weather grew even colder.

Jiu Yue spent her days lazing on the kang, unwilling even to leave it, doing her morning exercises in bed. The clattering sounds kept Ji Yiqing from sleeping, worried that the kang might collapse.

This earned several meaningful glances from Ji Chaomian, leaving Ji Yiqing inexplicably embarrassed.

Jiu Yue snorted coldly. People always say that people in ancient times were conservative, but Jiu Yue thought that only their minds were conservative—their behaviors could be surprisingly open. They certainly knew how to enjoy themselves, and in terms of intimacy, ancient practices were diverse, eccentric, and inventive. Modern people couldn’t even begin to compare.

Shao Qing, at dawn every few days, would borrow an ox cart to bring his mother to the Ji household, administer the acupuncture, and then take her back home. Now, she could see faint white light through her vision. Shao Qing was overjoyed and became even more diligent and careful in his work.

Jiu Yue wasn’t bored either. In this half-month, Ji Yiqing often ran errands outside, and even Ji Chaomian, with his poor mobility, frequently went to the county town. Every day they brought the pills they made to the Dark Moon Pavilion. Jiu Yue enjoyed the leisure and naturally didn’t concern herself with such matters. After all, if the scholars didn’t pass the exams at the start of the year, the consequences would fall on these two.

This morning, it was rare to see the sun. Jiu Yue, having stayed in the countryside for so long, had to go because Master Wang would come to settle accounts, and Dark Moon Pavilion also needed its ledgers submitted. Mostly, though, with the New Year approaching, Jiu Yue, as the owner, needed to check in and also see how Shao Qing was doing.

Today, Ji Yiqing and Ji Chaomian accompanied her. Seeing Jiu Yue go into town, both of them were unusually solemn.

As soon as she entered the city, Jiu Yue sensed something was off—not the city itself, but the atmosphere. A heavy, oppressive feeling came over her, the instinct of a killer sharpened by years of experience. It felt like a change in the weather.

Patrolling officers appeared on the streets frequently. If this were merely because the New Year was near, Jiu Yue didn’t believe they would be so diligent. Clearly, something significant had happened, which explained why Ji Yiqing and Ji Chaomian were so tense.

They followed Jiu Yue step by step, as if afraid she might get into trouble.

Before reaching the city center, they saw a team of officials escorting a long line of prisoners.

Ji Yiqing shielded Jiu Yue, fearing the prisoners might charge her. Among the prisoners were men, women, the old, and the young, including a few delicate young ladies. Jiu Yue roughly understood that they were likely being exiled.

Just as she was about to turn away, she noticed a familiar face among them and tugged at Ji Yiqing’s sleeve: “Doesn’t that woman look like the prefect’s concubine?”

Ji Yiqing, trusting Jiu Yue’s observation and seeing that she had recognized the person, said openly, “That should be the prefect’s family.”

Jiu Yue exclaimed, “You toppled the prefect?”

Ji Chaomian and Ji Yiqing exchanged awkward looks. Ji Chaomian, unusually embarrassed, said, “Sister-in-law, we aren’t that capable.”

Jiu Yue clicked her tongue. Well, two young scholars toppling a prefect? Indeed, that was a stretch—she had overestimated them.

The exiled prisoners quickly passed by.

Jiu Yue and the Ji brothers headed toward the Dark Moon Pavilion, and the further they walked, the more she felt the city’s atmosphere was off—everyone seemed on edge. Her acute sense of danger immediately went into overdrive, her starry eyes scanning every corner. At the slightest sign of trouble, she would have immediately intervened.

Ji Yiqing guided her to the back entrance of the Dark Moon Pavilion. Seeing her tense, he held her hand and said, “It’s nothing. No matter what happens, it won’t affect ordinary people like us.”

Jiu Yue was puzzled: “So whose business is this, a high-ranking official’s?”

Ji Yiqing and Ji Chaomian exchanged glances, checked to ensure no one was around, and finally explained what had happened.

The Da Qi dynasty was nearing its 200th year. Every emperor had been diligent and careful, so the people of Da Qi lived better than those of most other countries. However, since the founding emperor, the royal family seemed cursed—no emperor had lived past 45, and succession was thin. The previous emperor had three sons and a daughter; the current one had only two sons and a daughter.

The emperor had established the crown prince early. Now at 42, if the curse were real, the emperor wouldn’t have long to live. To leave a stable kingdom for the crown prince, the emperor took decisive action against many aristocratic families, rooting out corrupt officials.

Ji Yiqing and Ji Chaomian had been lucky—the purge had created more openings for the imperial exams next year.

Currently, everyone in government—from princes and nobles to low-level clerks—felt threatened, which caused widespread alarm throughout Da Qi.

The Emperor knew his actions would be judged by history but had no choice. The crown prince had no heirs, while the second prince had seven or eight children. The two princes’ rivalry was fierce. The Emperor could not let the kingdom fall to his second son and so acted decisively to restore peace, even if it earned him criticism.

Listening to the intricate court politics, Jiu Yue felt dizzy. She didn’t want to hear more—it had nothing to do with her anyway.

“So that’s why you two have been running to the city so often?”

“The exams begin in April. The Emperor has appointed new officials loyal to the crown prince, so things will be stricter. Next year’s exams will be both difficult and simple. We have to go and see if we can get some intel.”

Jiu Yue responded with a noncommittal “oh.” Politics was a dirty game—she wasn’t going to play.

“Do as you like, as long as you have a plan.”

Ji Yiqing and Ji Chaomian nodded.

Next year, if they passed the scholars’ exams, they would become candidates and then head to the capital the following year. Some might call it lucky; others, unlucky.

Though no one spoke openly of the curse, everyone knew: several consecutive emperors hadn’t lived past 45.