An hour after Pei Rusong left home, the sky finally brightened completely. Maidservants filed in, holding cosmetic cases, towels, and combs. Xianyun brought Wen Chan her clothes and coaxed her softly, “Last night was windy and thundery. Your Highness probably didn’t sleep well. Since there’s nothing to do today anyway, it’s fine to sleep in a little longer.”

She was a person of great discretion, never mentioning who the true culprit behind the disturbed sleep was. Wen Chan stretched her neck and said casually, “I’d like to go for a ride out of the city today. The weather is gradually getting hotter, so it’s best to leave while it’s still cool in the morning to avoid suffering on the road.”

After washing her face, she sat before the dressing table. Feixing cleared away the washing utensils and asked, “Is Your Highness going on an official tour or in plain clothes? If it’s a tour, this slave will go inform the honor guard and attendants to be on standby.”

Wen Chan tilted her head up slightly to let Xianyun help with her makeup. “Plain clothes. I’m going to the country estate in the capital’s suburbs to have a look. The two of you, plus Cheng Xuan and Crow, and a few more guards will be enough. No need to make a big fuss.”

Feixing’s face immediately lit up with joy. Mindful of the others in the room, she dared not show it too obviously, but the elation in her voice was about to overflow. “As you command. This slave will go and inform them right away.”

Wen Chan met Xianyun’s eyes in the bronze mirror, and they both pursed their lips in a smile. Then, as if she had just remembered, she added, “Since we’re making a rare trip out, let’s also take a few horses from the stables out for a run.”

Like a small whirlwind, Feixing rushed out of the room, overjoyed.

Xianyun styled Wen Chan’s hair into a high chignon, adorned with pearl hairpins and golden flowers, and her attire was changed to a light and slim-fitting silk robe. After breakfast, Wen Chan, along with her entourage, boarded the carriage and headed for the country estate outside the city.

Wen Chan had first rendered great service during the mutiny on her northern tour to Songyang, and then unfortunately encountered an assassination attempt during her wedding. Although it had caused her no substantial harm, the Emperor felt quite guilty toward his beloved daughter and was determined to compensate her through her dowry. In addition to an excessive fief of one thousand households, a Prince Consort's Manor and a Princess Manor—two large residences in the Capital City—he also bestowed upon her nearly a thousand acres of gardens and fertile land in the capital’s suburbs.

The princess’s fields, taxes, and family wealth were all managed by the Princess's Fiefdom Administration Office. The head of the office, He Jiugao, came from the Court of the Imperial Clan and was not yet familiar with Wen Chan’s temperament. Along the way, he only reported on matters within his duties respectfully and dared not say more.

He had been carefully observing everyone’s movements. He saw that the princess was dignified and poised, but her attendants seemed rather unreliable. Some rode their horses freely in light attire, some collected flowers and plants as they walked, and one even squatted in the princess’s carriage eating her pastries. He Jiugao found it peculiar and couldn’t help but sneak a few more glances.

Wen Chan noticed his gaze, glanced in that direction, and explained with a smile, “They are busy in the manor all day and rarely get a chance to go out and relax. They are a bit lax, but it’s no big deal. Ziyuan, please don’t mind them.”

He Jiugao quickly said he wouldn’t dare, but his heart was pounding: ‘The princess is so lenient with her subordinates. Could it be that she has the same flaw as the nobles of Zhaojing, using her high status to act without restraint and raising a pack of lackeys for herself?’

Although his official rank was low, he was a properly appointed official and naturally looked down on such close attendants and favored servants. However, as the saying goes, “Even a ninth-rank official at the prime minister’s gate holds power.” Zhaojing was teeming with nobles, and there were at least a thousand, if not eight hundred, household servants who acted tyrannically relying on their masters’ authority. No matter how much he disapproved, he could only swallow his anger while feeling contempt. Now that he was fortunate enough to be the princess’s household manager, it seemed he could have a few words with the princess, but in reality, his standing was lower than that of those unranked maids and eunuchs.

He harbored suspicion in his heart and thought he concealed it well, but his expression still betrayed a hint of gloom. Wen Chan glanced at him but said nothing.

In her previous life, He Jiugao was also the manager of the Princess Manor. Wen Chan knew he had the minor flaw of looking down on his inferiors and had suffered for it before, but his overall integrity was impeccable, so she felt relatively at ease with him. He had only just come into contact with the people in the manor, so it was normal for him to be reserved. Wen Chan didn't expect everyone to instantly become as competent as they were in her past life. As long as they were headed in the right direction, she would let them slowly get used to each other.

Outside the city lay a boundless plain, with rivers crisscrossing it like jade belts. Farmland and villages dotted the landscape. To the north, green mountains were faintly visible, the remnants of the Phoenix Ridge. Looking from here, it was a completely different feeling from overlooking the city lights from the pagoda. One could only feel that Zhaojing, surrounded by mountains and rivers, was truly a uniquely blessed and fertile land.

Yet it was this very place, a land of a thousand miles of fertile fields, that would suffer a grain famine for three consecutive years. Farmers lost their land, the common people were destitute, and even the Emperor had to move to Pingjing for provisions. Court officials tried all sorts of tricks to persuade the Emperor to invite monks and Daoists to perform rituals for rain, while at the same time fighting tooth and nail for the lucrative post of transport commissioner. The major factions endlessly schemed behind the scenes. If not for the later outbreak of the Gu Prefecture rebellion, which turned the lucrative post of transport commissioner into a life-threatening chore, it was likely that a final candidate would not have been decided even as people starved to death.

The carriage traveled south along the official road for about ten miles. A group of tenant farmers was waiting by the roadside. He Jiugao signaled the driver to stop and introduced, “Your Highness, this is the estate Your Majesty bestowed upon the manor. There are a hundred qing of both irrigated and dry fields, and fifty qing of mulberry fields. The estate has a population of nearly a hundred people, as well as four waterwheels and three water mills.”

Wen Chan took Xianyun’s hand and stepped out of the carriage. She first praised He Jiugao for being “meticulous,” then walked slowly along the path by the fields for a while, observing the growth of the crops. She naturally asked the most crucial question: “What is the estate’s yield?”

Perhaps it was an illusion, but after this question was asked, the surrounding air seemed to fall silent.

He Jiugao glanced at the tenant farmers out of the corner of his eye, then lowered his head and replied, “Reporting to Your Highness, in a good year, the yield is about two dan per mu. But in recent years, the climate has been dry and irrigation has been poor, so the yield is only about one and a half dan per mu.”

“The climate is a matter for the heavens, beyond human control, so there’s nothing to be done about it,” Wen Chan said faintly. “But the rivers and canals are right before our eyes. Ziyuan, where did you get these four words, ‘poor irrigation’?”

On such a hot day, her question made He Jiugao break out in a cold sweat.

In fact, he could have easily glossed over Wen Chan's question. After all, these pampered golden branches and jade leaves probably couldn't even tell wheat from rice. To them, yield was just a number, a decoration to display their wealth, which they might forget as soon as they heard it, never bothering to get to the bottom of it.

But he couldn't control his useless conscience, attempting to find a bit of justice from Princess Chiming. After all, her fierce reputation preceded her; she had once cut down an imperial relative with her sword, which at least proved she was a more formidable figure than most nobles.

“As Your Highness can see, the terrain here is flat and surrounded by rivers and canals. As long as the waterworks are well-maintained and irrigation is proper, these are fertile fields no inferior to those in Jiangnan.”

He Jiugao suddenly stretched out his hand and pointed east, his robe sleeve flying. His voice trembled slightly. “But the Tongji Canal, White Elm River, and Yongye River, on which the common people depend for irrigation, are lined with the private water mills of the powerful. They forcibly divert the water flow and block the canals. The people have no way to draw water to their fields and can now only rely on carrying it by hand and on their shoulders, which is barely enough to sustain them.”

“Furthermore, powerful clans compete to build gardens, diverting water to create ponds. Three-fifths of the remaining water is taken, so how can the people use the mere two-fifths of water left to grow two dan of grain? Your Highness’s estate is tax-exempt, royally bestowed fertile land, while those ordinary farmers cultivating poor fields still have to pay a tax of two dan per person to the court every year.”

In the distance, pavilions and towers were faintly visible, with upturned eaves and bracket sets, exquisite and beautiful—who knew whose villa it was. On the other side of the main road, a convoy of carts loaded with timber and stone was slowly heading north, to who knew whose garden.

The atmosphere was deathly silent for a moment. Wen Chan raised her hand to stop Cheng Xuan, who was about to rebuke He Jiugao. Her gaze on him was so calm it was almost cold. “He Jiugao, do you know that I am also one of the ‘powerful’ you speak of?”

He Jiugao gritted his teeth, lifted the hem of his robe, bent his knees, and knelt on the dusty field ridge. “This subject knows his crime.”

“In the end, the food you eat is from the Princess Manor, your salary is from the court. Whether the fields are well-irrigated, whether the common people live or die, it is not for you to ask, nor is it your duty.”

“To offend me for the sake of unrelated people, is this your way of being an official?”

Wen Chan rarely acted so unforgivingly. The servants all stood holding their breath, no one daring to speak. Just as He Jiugao was about to kowtow and beg for forgiveness again, a nearby farmer suddenly dropped to his knees with a thud and pleaded with a trembling voice, “I beg the Princess for forgiveness! Lord He serves the Princess wholeheartedly and has absolutely no disrespect for you! It was us... it was all our fault for complaining to him. Lord He took pity on us and wanted to speak up for us before the Princess. We beg you, for the sake of Lord He’s kind intentions, to spare him this time!”

He Jiugao was too late to stop him and kowtowed. “It was this subject’s reckless words that offended Your Highness. This subject is willing to accept punishment. Please do not vent your anger on them. This subject will bear all the blame—”

“Stop, hold it, say no more.” Wen Chan finally couldn't maintain her composure. She let out a “tsk” and said worriedly, “He Jiugao, you really need to change that mouth of yours. I’ve never seen an apology get more grating the more you apologize. Even if I weren’t angry, you could provoke a fire out of me. I feel like I’d be doing your attitude a disservice if I didn’t punish you for something.”

He Jiugao: “...”

“Get up.” Wen Chan glanced at him. “You have the guts to plead for the people, but why don’t you have the ability to stand your ground? I only questioned you a few times, and you immediately started kowtowing and begging for forgiveness without a second thought. And your admission of guilt is so insincere. In the future, when you are before His Majesty, or attacked by a throng of officials in the court, will you respond in the same way?”

He Jiugao looked up in astonishment, staring at her blankly.

Wen Chan: “The problem is right there for anyone with eyes to see. You are not the only one who discovered it. What’s important is to convince those in charge to solve the problem, or to have the ability to solve it yourself. What’s the use of just shouting about it?”

He Jiugao began to stammer, “This subject... this subject is just a minor official of humble status. My words carry little weight...”

“That’s why you must think of a way to convince me,” Wen Chan said. “You are the Princess’s household manager. Your greatest backer is me. Many of your ideas can only be realized through my hands. So you must strive to get on this boat, not classify me with the group of people you dislike from the very beginning.”

“This subject wouldn’t dare!” This time, He Jiugao’s words were truly from the heart. He bowed his head and said, “Thank you for your teachings, Your Highness.”

Wen Chan signaled her men to help him up. “Go back and think it over yourself. This isn’t something you can figure out overnight. But we have plenty of time ahead of us. We can proceed and see.”

He Jiugao stood up with the help of a guard, seemingly beginning to understand why the people around the princess all seemed so relaxed and undisciplined.

It was because she would frankly explain the stakes, not concealing her need for loyalty, nor using her own likes and dislikes to restrain people’s nature. Under her, one did not need to curry favor, nor fear speaking frankly, but one had to have sufficiently flexible and smooth methods, and the determination to “get things done.”

The tenant farmer led them to the side of the Tongji Canal to inspect the operation of the water mill. Along the way, He Jiugao was surprised to find that the princess was not unfamiliar with these agricultural matters. Although she asked questions, it was clear she was not ignorant to the point of being unable to distinguish wheat seedlings from weeds. She was hardly like a princess who had never left the Imperial City, but rather like a censor inspecting agriculture in the countryside.

Wen Chan stopped by the water mill for a moment, then turned to ask He Jiugao, “Were these water mills already here, or were they newly granted by His Majesty?”

He Jiugao: “Your Highness, this estate has always been imperial land, and the water mills were specially built to accompany it.”

Using water power to turn the millstones could replace human and animal labor for grain processing. The great clans had vast farmlands and large amounts of grain, so they naturally had to build mills. Ordinary people had no need to build their own stone mills and would send their grain to the mills for grinding. This business was highly profitable, requiring only flowing water, which saved a lot of costs compared to human and animal traction. No wonder the aristocratic clans were all rushing to get involved.

Wen Chan nodded. “Let’s use those three for now. Tell them to find another place and build a new mill while they’re at it.”

He Jiugao’s eyes suddenly lit up.

Wen Chan raised her voice to Crow and Cheng Xuan, who were squatting in the fields, “Little ones, time to go back and eat!”

Crow was simply afraid of the heat and didn't want to be sunbathing by the water. Cheng Xuan, on the other hand, had found a wildflower by the field ridge, gotten a ceramic pot from a farmer, and was carefully digging it out to transplant it.

Lunch was served in a farmer’s house. No one would come all the way out here to eat shark’s fin and abalone. The ingredients were nothing more than the farmer’s chickens, fish from the river, and seasonal vegetables appropriate for summer. It was all rustic fare, prized for its freshness and natural flavor.

Xianyun and the others had followed Wen Chan on her travels across the land before, and roughing it was a common occurrence for them, so they weren’t picky. Crow wolfed down two bowls of rice and seemed to want more, looking expectantly at Wen Chan.

She had a particular sweet tooth and needed three servings of dessert a day. Moreover, because she was always jumping around, she digested quickly and never gained weight no matter how much she ate. Wen Chan propped her chin on her hand and smiled, “Weren’t all the tea cakes you stole on the way enough? They’re all gone. There’s nowhere to find chestnut cakes for you this season, the chestnuts aren’t even ripe yet.”

Crow pouted listlessly, her eyebrows drooping, looking like a little kicked puppy.

Wen Chan felt she must have owed these kicked puppies a great debt in her past life, and was destined to never be firm with them in this one.

“Are there any sweet desserts?” she asked the farmer’s wife beside her helplessly. “Sweet fruits would be fine too.”

The farmer’s wife repeatedly said yes. She went out for a moment and returned with a plate of green bean cakes and a small bowl of wild cherries. The cherries were a luscious red, like small agate beads, with such a thin skin that they seemed to burst at a touch, but their flavor was a rich blend of sweet and sour. Wen Chan tasted two and a thought stirred in her heart. “Are there any more cherries?”

The farmer’s wife wrung the corner of her apron, stammering nervously, “Replying to the Princess, this is from the cherry tree in my own yard. There’s only one. Aside from what I just picked, there isn’t much left...”

“It’s alright, as long as there are some,” Wen Chan said. “Xianyun, go help me pick a small bowl. Don’t wash them. Pack them up to take back.”

Everyone simultaneously thought ‘Oh—’ in their minds. Only He Jiugao looked around in confusion, suspecting he was hearing things.

After lunch, everyone rested for a while. After rewarding the farmers and feeding the horses, they set off back to the city.

When they came, it was shortly after sunrise in the early morning, with a cool breeze blowing. Everyone had the cheerful feeling of a spring outing. The return journey, however, was just after the hottest part of the day. The sun was half-set, the ground was dry and hot, and the main road was dusty, making one wish only to quickly return to a cool room and wash their face with cold water.

On the small table in the carriage was the wildflower Cheng Xuan had newly dug up. Its petals were a rare blue. Fearing it would be damaged on the road, he had entrusted it to Wen Chan for safekeeping. Wen Chan studied it for a moment, then asked through the bamboo curtain, “What kind of flower is this?”

Cheng Xuan’s voice was as clear and smooth as pearls and jade. Although he was a young eunuch, it was not feminine or sharp. “This slave doesn’t actually know either. It’s just that when I was tending flowers in the inner garden before, I read a book called the ‘Manual of Exotic Flowers.’ It mentioned a flower called the ‘Cuique Flower,’ shaped like a butterfly’s wing and colored like a kingfisher. It’s said that consuming it can improve vision, dispel blood stasis, and cure all eye ailments.”

“Now that you put it that way, it does seem to have that kind of feel,” Wen Chan said, eager to try. “Let’s plant it when we get back. If it’s really that miraculous, we can come back and dig up a few more when we have time.”

Cheng Xuan said helplessly, “Your Highness, since it’s in the ‘Manual of Exotic Flowers,’ it means these flowers are either rare, lost, or purely fictional. It might just be an ordinary blue wildflower.”

Wen Chan: “Since you saw it, and I am personally taking it back to the Princess Manor, it means it can’t possibly be an ordinary wildflower.”

Cheng Xuan: “...Well, if no one else appreciates you, appreciating yourself is a good way to think, Your Highness.”

Wen Chan: “...”

Just as she was about to retort, the carriage suddenly slowed, and Cheng Xuan also reined in his horse. Wen Chan asked, “What’s wrong?”

“It seems like there are people arguing up ahead, blocking the road,” Cheng Xuan said. “Your Highness, please wait a moment. I’ll go and see.”

The clatter of horse hooves receded. The wind carried the sound of a distant dispute; someone seemed to be shouting insults, and faint sounds of crying could be heard amidst the clamor.