MLMD -Chapter 299 Choosing Names

After hearing Luo Yangxing’s words, Chongzhen fell silent. After a long moment, he spoke to Hong Chengchou: “Minister Hong, what is your opinion on this matter?”

Hong Chengchou furrowed his brow and thought for a moment before speaking in a grave tone: “Whether or not the Marquis of Loyalty and Courage acted for the sake of the people, he nonetheless acted without the emperor’s decree. Such a precedent must not be allowed to grow. Your Majesty should issue an edict to reprimand him and have him withdraw from the three garrisons of Xuanda as soon as possible. Furthermore, a capable person should be appointed to oversee Xuanda; otherwise, incidents like this will continue to occur.”

Chongzhen remained silent for a long while, staring at Hong Chengchou before asking, “Minister Hong, if I were to entrust Xuanda to you, would you be able to govern it properly? This, of course, includes the northern route of Shanxi as well!”

Hong Chengchou naturally understood the emperor’s intention. He gave a bitter smile: “I do not know, Your Majesty. I can only dedicate myself to the utmost until my death.”

Chongzhen waved his hand: “I do not wish to hear talk of dying in service. I only want to know if you can bring Xuanda under proper administration! I do not want to see another ‘northern route’ situation arise!”

Hong Chengchou approached the emperor, bowed solemnly, and said, “I shall obey Your Majesty’s decree!”

The new governor of Xuanda was finally decided. The position went to Hong Chengchou, formerly the Governor of the Three Borders. Chongzhen revoked his previous post and appointed him as the Governor of Xuanda. The governorship of the Three Borders was handed over to Lu Xiangsheng, meaning Lu Xiangsheng would now shoulder the heavy responsibility of suppressing the bandits.

Snowflakes drifted from the sky, covering the once-black carriage in white. Though it was snowing outside, the interior of the carriage was a different scene. Inside the well-sealed carriage were two braziers, burning white charcoal made from redwood until glowing red, radiating intense warmth that filled the carriage.

Hong Chengchou sat inside, leaning against a soft cushion, intently reading several documents by the light of two candles beside him. Next to him, a young concubine in a lake-green gauze ruqun, her hair styled in the traditional “madam” fashion, carefully peeled an orange, feeding the segments to Hong Chengchou.

Seeing Hong Chengchou so focused, the young concubine pouted and tugged at his sleeve. “Master, it’s snowing so heavily outside. Why don’t we rest a few more days in Taiyuan? Traveling in such weather is exhausting!”

She rubbed her slim waist in complaint. The journey had been rough, and though the carriage was luxurious by contemporary standards, the uneven roads and lack of suspension made travel still a painful experience. This concubine was newly taken by Hong Chengchou, who doted on her, and her words were tinged with a hint of dissatisfaction.

Hong Chengchou glanced at her coldly. “Yingniang, if you cannot endure this hardship, I can send you back to your hometown in Quanzhou. You need not follow me anymore.”

“Thud…”

At his words, the concubine’s face turned pale, the previous coquettishness gone. She knelt immediately, trembling, and said, “Master, forgive me! I deserve death. Yingniang should not have spoken so. Please, do not send me away!”

“Thud, thud, thud…”

She pressed her forehead hard to the floor repeatedly. Even though the carriage had carpets, her forehead swelled and reddened, showing how forcefully she prostrated herself.

Yingniang knew that losing Hong Chengchou’s favor and being sent back to Quanzhou would mean a dire fate. His primary wife in Quanzhou would make her understand what it truly meant to wish for death. In those days, a concubine’s position was extremely low, often lower than that of an ordinary servant—their lives truly depended on the whim of their master.

Hong Chengchou looked at the trembling young concubine and said calmly, “Rise. I recall that you have always served me properly, so I will not hold this against you. But remember: my decisions are not something a mere woman like you can influence. Understand?”

“Yes… Your humble servant understands!”

“Rise.”

Hong Chengchou glanced at her, then returned his attention to the documents.

Yingniang carefully got up and resumed peeling the orange, now even more cautious in her service.

At that moment, the carriage window was pushed open, and a gust of cold wind mixed with snow rushed in. The previously warm interior turned icy. Hong Chengchou sneezed three times in quick succession, while the concubine, wearing only a ruqun, turned pale.

Before Hong Chengchou could scold, a middle-aged man with a square beard appeared at the window, his loud voice carrying over the wind: “Master, we have now reached the borders of Yingzhou. If we quicken our pace, we should reach Yingzhou city by evening. Should we enter the city and rest for the night?”

Hong Chengchou considered for a moment and replied, “Yes, but only for one night. At first light, we depart directly for Hunyuanzhou.”

“Yes!”

The man moved to close the window, but Hong Chengchou stopped him.

“Wait. Look outside.”

Following Hong Chengchou’s gesture, even Yingniang saw it. Alongside the official road were many ragged refugees, some carrying the elderly and children, all heading toward Yingzhou.

Hong Chengchou was startled. “Hong Antong, go ask them why they are all heading to Yingzhou.”

The middle-aged man nodded, rode over, and returned quickly. “Master, these are refugees from Shaanxi. They can no longer make a living and do not wish to become bandits. They’ve heard that the Marquis of Loyalty and Courage in northern Shanxi is recruiting people to farm and build roads. They are all heading to his northern garrison!”

“The Marquis of Loyalty and Courage…”

Hong Chengchou murmured and fell into thought, oblivious to the cold wind until Yingniang sneezed again. He glanced at his concubine and closed the window. Outside, Hong Antong shouted, and the thundering of hundreds of hooves echoed as cavalry escorted Hong Chengchou’s carriage northward.

Winter in the north was cold, but the Marquis of Loyalty and Courage’s mansion under Yue Yang was bustling. With the year-end approaching, Yue Yang gave every servant two months’ salary as a bonus and a full set of clothing and shoes, leaving everyone in high spirits.

Moreover, news had arrived that Yulong was pregnant. This meant all three of Yue Yang’s women were expecting children. In a time when having many children was considered a blessing, more children meant more fortune. People felt that Yue Yang, as a noble marquis, had too few children and now Yulong’s pregnancy brought joy to the household. Well-wishers crowded the gates to congratulate him.

Yue Yang stayed home today, sitting in the small rear hall with his elderly mother, three wives, and two children, chatting leisurely.

The hall was only around fifty square meters, with underfloor heating that kept it warm as spring.

His grandmother sat in a cotton armchair, his sister Yue Ying beside her. Behind the mother, the Linglong sisters massaged her back. Yue Yang and Hai Lanzhu sat nearby, smiling at their two children learning to walk.

The elder son, one year old, could toddle on his own; the younger daughter, six months old, could only crawl. Occasionally they collided, crying loudly with tears and snot covering their faces.

Yuling quickly picked up the daughter to soothe her. Hai Lanzhu, however, encouraged her child to stand and walk independently, stopping the nanny from helping.

After a while, the child dried her tears and stood up on her own to continue walking.

The grandmother, concerned, murmured a mild complaint to Hai Lanzhu, who replied nonchalantly: “Grandmother, children must learn to walk on their own. On the steppe, children start riding at five or six, and practice archery at seven or eight. Only this way do they become brave warriors. If parents rush to lift them after a fall, they will never grow up properly!”

“But this is the Ming Dynasty, not the Mongolian steppe!” the grandmother muttered. She realized further complaints were futile and shook her head silently.

Turning to Yue Yang, she asked, “Yang’er, have you decided on names for the children now that they can walk?”

Without hesitation, Yue Yang said, “Grandmother, the greatgrandson will be named Yue Yao, and the greatgranddaughter Yue Ying. What do you think?”

“Yue Yao, Yue Ying…” the grandmother considered and nodded. “Very well, let it be so.”

“Ah, brother, Yue Ying’s name is almost the same as mine!” his sister Yue Ying exclaimed.