The Dragon and the Phoenix in the Mortal Realm – 3

 Feng Duying lingered in the abundant mansion for most of the day, only departing when dusk descended upon the world.
 The setting sun melted into gold, and the evening breeze whispered gently. The hurried footsteps of pedestrians filled the streets, while stall owners busied themselves in tidying their wares. After a day of toil, people hastened homeward to the warm, steaming meals prepared by their wives, and the eager faces of their children awaiting them at the doorstep. Amidst the comings and goings, a sense of tranquility and contentment radiated from their faces.
 Feng Duying stood amidst this scene, momentarily lost in thought. Although the court was rife with intrigue and hidden dangers, and the world beneath it plagued with unsolvable worries, these common folk were no longer threatened by the peril of war or the suffering of displacement. They took root in this land, living in peace and joy, marrying and bearing offspring, generation after generation. Eventually, this once-scarred land would usher in a golden age of prosperity.
 And so, her initially heavy heart was unexpectedly warmed, filled with a touch of delight and consolation. For a moment, she no longer desired to return to her residence, wishing instead to wander the Imperial City, observe its streets, and witness the lives of its people.
 In silence, Du Kang led the horse, following closely behind her.
 Throughout the journey, the aroma of meals being prepared wafted through the air, accompanied by the hurried footsteps of passersby. The voices of parents calling their children home for dinner blended with the sounds of children gleefully racing toward their homes, neighbors exchanging greetings, and even the occasional argument or scolding between family members. It was a symphony of cacophony that bespoke an era of peace and tranquility.
 Feng Duying strolled along the streets, her mood gradually shifting to one of serenity and contentment. Meandering without a specific destination, she soon found herself leaving the city behind and venturing into the outskirts of the Imperial Capital.
 As the bustling streets gave way to wide-open spaces, the landscape became increasingly desolate. Human activity dwindled, and the distant villages revealed crumbling dwellings. By the roadside, ruined walls and fragments of buildings stood as silent testaments to the scars left by past wars.
 A century of turmoil had rendered the land barren, etching wounds into the hearts of those who lived upon it. The path to renewed prosperity was a long and arduous one, not achievable overnight. The establishment of the Great Eastern Kingdom just three years prior was merely the dawn of a new era of revival.
 Feng Duying paused by the side of the road, gazing thoughtfully at the scene in front of her.
 Beneath the crimson twilight, in the distance, a few remnants of uneven walls stood tall. Behind these walls, silhouettes of people and faint murmurs could be heard. Wisps of white smoke rose from the ruins, a sign of homeless wanderers who had sought refuge here, pooling together their scavenged or begged meals to cook, making do with their humble dinner.
 These shattered walls and remnants, these cooking smoke and silhouettes, seemed all too familiar, as if echoes of the past—hunger, exhaustion, and sorrow, grinding away day by day—suddenly weighed heavy on the heart. With a dimmed gaze, unwilling to look further, she raised her foot, intending to leave. Unexpectedly, a song drifted through the air:
“Alas, these broken lands, where birds take flight once more.
Amongst the people, none escape, yet I alone endure.
What sin have I committed ‘against the heavens’ decree?
My heart is laden with grief, like clouds, how can it be?
The path is lost, entangled in the overgrowth of time.
My heart aches, a thousand sorrows ceaselessly unwind.
In fitful slumber, I sigh, my worries hasten my age.
My heart is laden with grief, like a rapid, relentless plague.”
 In a coarse and raspy voice, a mournful melody wove through the air, its melancholy accentuated by the waning glow of the setting sun. Feng Duying involuntarily paused in her steps, turning her gaze toward the broken wall.
 As the song ceased, the desolate atmosphere persisted, refusing to disperse.
 “Why does this gentleman sing such a sorrowful tune?” A sudden male voice inquired, its timbre akin to the low hum of an ancient zither, imbued with a tinge of sympathy.
 “Alas!” A long sigh escaped, and it was evident that the man with the coarse voice was the one who had just sung the sad ballad. “Young Master, if you look at that village over there, each household has a hearth and is filled with family bliss. However, I have lost all my loved ones, aged and homeless. How could I not be grieved?”
 “Oh? Your family?”
 “All gone. In the chaos of war, my brother took arrows meant for me and perished. My wife fed me the last of our coarse grains, ultimately succumbing to starvation herself.” The hoarse male voice seemed even more parched.
 “I see.” The young man heaved a heavy sigh before continuing, “Then, elder brother, you should not dwell in sorrow any longer.”
 “Hmm? Young Master, what do you mean by that?” The man inquired.
 “Your brother and spouse have given their lives for you, demonstrating the profound bond they share with you. How, then, can you allow yourself to be immersed in the abyss of sorrow, thereby dishonoring their valiant sacrifice?” The man’s voice carried both deep compassion and caution. “The passing of the departed paves the way for the living to thrive. To honor the memory of your sibling and spouse, you should cast aside your grief and embrace life anew.”
 Upon hearing the phrase “The passing of the departed paves the way for the living to thrive,” a sudden tremor coursed through the solitary shadow beyond the wall, causing a momentary lapse in focus.
 Within the wall, however, silence reigned supreme, only to be shattered by several sneers of cold derision.
 “How eloquently the young master speaks!”
 “Hmph! A better life? A good life? His words flow with ease! Do you not think we yearn to live well? How could a privileged noble such as yourself fathom our hardships?”
 “Begone! This place is no haven for your kind, the so-called ‘privileged’ who know nothing of our struggles!”
 Within the broken walls, several individuals responded with an air of eerie and unsettling tone, their voices cold and mocking, filled with anger and disdain.
 “Alas!” The coarse, raspy male voice resounded once more, laden with deep helplessness and despair. “Esteemed sir, who among us does not wish for a good life, to be well-fed and clothed, to have a family with parents, siblings, a spouse, and children? Yet, we are but destitute souls, treated as vermin no matter where we go, scorned and reviled, beaten and berated upon sight. We live day by day, knowing that our inevitable demise on the roadside will merely serve as fodder for wild dogs, our bones lost to the world, our spirits left to wander the earth as lonely, restless ghosts…”
 Upon reaching this point, the man’s voice choked with emotion, unable to continue. His words stirred the hearts of many, evoking their own memories and experiences. Some recalled the injustices they had suffered throughout the years, cursing the heavens and the earth for their misfortune; others remembered loved ones lost in the horrors of war, and could not help but weep in anguish; still others contemplated their bleak futures, staring blankly at the chipped, blackened pot before them, saying nothing.
 For these people, having eaten this meal, they knew not when the next would come; having survived this day, they knew not whether they would live to see tomorrow’s sunrise.
 As the cries and curses echoed within the broken walls, Feng Duying’s thoughts once again drifted to the past. In those days, she and her seven siblings lived through such times, subsisting on discarded, sour leftovers, competing with rodents and wild beasts for half-rotted morsels, and being drenched in filthy water just to beg for a moldy steamed bun… Those days, now in retrospect, remained vividly etched in her memory.
 Suddenly, she raised her voice, declaring, “Though we possess nothing, we are not without limbs. Instead of wallowing in self-pity and resentment, why not strive with our own strength to secure our sustenance?”
 The people within the broken walls, who had been weeping and cursing, were momentarily struck dumb by this resounding statement. However, shortly after, they unleashed another torrent of invective.
 “Damn it! Another one who speaks without knowing the pain!” they exclaimed.
 “All these blind do-gooders pretending to be our saviors!”
 “Get lost!”
 “Outside stands the esteemed General Feng Ying.”
 Amidst the furious curses, that sonorous male voice rang out with the clarity of an ancient zither. As comprehension dawned, the voices within the broken walls fell abruptly silent.
 Beyond the wall, Feng Duying stood momentarily bewildered, secretly wondering how this man could recognize her by her voice alone. However, the man’s voice also sounded vaguely familiar to her. Consequently, she strode towards the breached wall.
 “Ge…Ge…General Feng Ying?”
 The vagrants within the wall stuttered one after another, for such a figure was too unattainable in their eyes. Now, the revered general stood right in front of them, and they had been hurling insults at her. With this realization, how could they not be filled with fear and confusion?
 As they stood at a loss, a white silhouette appeared around the corner of the broken wall. The crimson glow of the evening twilight bathed her in a reddish hue, while the golden phoenix feathers on her sleeves fluttered in the dusky breeze. She appeared like a phoenix descending from the heavens, radiating splendor and dazzling brilliance all around.
In an instant, everyone within the broken wall knelt down, creating a chorus of rustling sounds.
 “Humble ones pay homage to the General!” cried the vagrants as they prostrated on the ground.
 However, Feng Ying’s gaze swept past the crowd on the ground, focusing on the only man still standing. The man appeared to be in his mid-twenties, tall and slender, with a high forehead and an aquiline nose. Though his features did not surpass the handsomeness of Du Kang, he possessed an extraordinary elegance and poise that far exceeded Du Kang’s, making him stand out like a crane amongst a flock of chickens amidst the group of wanderers.
 “Gu Yunyuan? How did you come to be here?” Feng Duying expressed mild surprise, reflexively wanting to touch her forehead.
 As Feng Duying called out the gentleman’s name, he had already offered a courteous bow. Though bending at the waist, he did not exude a demeaning demeanor, akin to the slight nod of pines and cypresses in the wind. When he raised his head, his eyebrows unfurled naturally, and an air of openness and confidence emerged from his brow. “Just like the General here, I happened upon this place while strolling at my leisure.”
 Upon hearing such a response, Feng Duying’s eyebrows slightly furrowed, but she did not say anything more. Shifting her gaze, she surveyed the group of disheveled and terrified people lying on the ground, their clothing tattered and faces filthy.
 “Rise, all of you.”
 The people kneeling on the ground hesitated to get up, daring only to steal a glance ahead. Upon seeing the elegant figure standing before them, they felt even more ashamed of their appearance and hurriedly lowered their heads, not daring to look up again.
 Feng Duying quietly observed the group of people.
 The crowd on the ground naturally did not dare to make a sound, and the broken wall enclosed an eerie silence.
 After a moment, Feng Duying finally spoke: “During the hundred-year-long conflict, countless individuals like yourselves have experienced displacement and hardship. I, too, have been among them.” Her tone was soft and gentle, yet her words deeply resonated with those on the ground. “Hunger, insufficient clothing, harsh words, and physical abuse… I have tasted all these bitter experiences.”
 In the ancient lands where immortal martial arts flourished, General Feng Ying once spoke, her voice like the calm after a thousand storms, “I have tasted the struggle of carrying a hundred catties of sand and stone in exchange for a single steamed bun.” Her gaze swept over the crowd, “That steamed bun was pure and fresh, tasteless upon the first bite, but with each careful chew, sweetness emerging.”
 A tremor passed through the crowd, and they could not help but look up at her with a sense of awe. Could it be that this noble general had indeed experienced the hardships and sorrows they had endured, just as the legends of old suggested? Was she once a beggar, a laborer, a wanderer born of humble origins?
 “Why can I trade a hundred catties of sand and stone for a stomach-filling steamed bun, and you cannot?” General Feng Duying’s piercing phoenix eyes swept across the people, “The world is now at peace, and the chaos that once threatened your lives has vanished. You all have limbs and strength, so why can you not rely on your own abilities to provide for yourselves?”
 Her gaze and questions cut like a sharp blade, seemingly able to scrape the filth from their faces and leave them with no place to hide their shame.
 “Ge… General,” a quivering voice rose from the crowd, “After I arrived in the Imperial City, I wanted to carry bags of grain at the rice shop, but I was driven out by the workers with their ruthless beatings…”
 Upon the conclusion of that person’s words, two others immediately concurred. They too had once sought to exchange labor for food, yet not only were they refused employment, but they also endured beatings and scolding.
 Unperturbed, Feng Duying gazed upon the group and said, “If you are rejected once, you may try again; if one place proves unwelcoming, seek another. In this world, there are both cold-heartedness and compassionate souls. Should you seek ten, or even a hundred times, I refuse to believe that there would not be a single person willing to employ you! Yet, if you cower like this, it is only fitting that you starve or freeze to death!”
 Though harsh, these words were like a sharp sword piercing the weak nature of those present. Many lowered their heads in shame and remained silent. As Feng Duying had pointed out, some among them had become accustomed to the effortless life of begging after years of wandering. A few had considered working for food, but following the humiliation and beatings they had suffered, they had abandoned the notion entirely. They would rather drift through life until death claimed them than face further disgrace. They could only curse those who had beaten and looked down upon them in their hearts, wishing them ill-fated ends and eternal damnation in the Eighteenth Layer of Hell.
 These people lacked the courage to attempt ten, let alone a hundred times. They had long since given up on humanity and life itself.
 As shame beset these individuals, the voice of Feng Duying resounded once more: “Eighty li* away, the Wei River embankment requires repairs and is in need of labor.”
 The gathered crowd, struck by a momentary stupor, suddenly came to an understanding. They stared at her with widened eyes and agape mouths, yet they were as motionless and speechless as wooden chickens. These were the people forsaken by society, wandering for far too long in the darkness and chaos. When a light unexpectedly shone upon them, and someone called out to them, they were filled with disbelief and at a loss for what to do.
 In that instant, their hearts were filled with a mix of emotions – joy and sorrow, bitterness and sweetness. A myriad of feelings mingled together, choking them so much that they could only emit rough, ragged, and agitated breaths, unable to utter a word.
 “Go to the river and cleanse yourselves. Wash your faces and bodies, and walk out with dignity. Who in this world dares to look down upon you?” Feng Duying’s clear and serene voice carried a power that compelled the people to involuntarily straighten their backs and raise their heads. They looked upon a fair-skinned woman in white, bathed in the enchanting twilight, standing amidst the crumbling ruins with an air of lofty grace. “Your lives are your own. Whether you live this life like a mere rodent or as a true human being depends on how you choose to live it!”
 Upon the conclusion of her words, an ephemeral silence enveloped the fractured wall. Then, suddenly, a voice emerged, choked with tears, as someone bowed in reverence, “Boundless gratitude to the General! This humble one shall never forget the General’s words of today!”
It was as if his words roused the crowd from slumber.
 “Infinite thanks to the General for your benevolence!”
 “Tomorrow, this insignificant one shall depart for the Wei River to mend the embankments in exchange for sustenance!”
 “This humble one wishes not to be a mere rodent, but to stand tall and true as a man!”

…

 The wandering souls kowtowed, their hearts brimming with gratitude.
 “Rise, all of you.”
This time, everyone heeded the command of Feng Duying and stood up from the ground.
 “Elder brother, judging by the song you sang earlier, you must be a learned man?” Gu Yunyuan suddenly inquired, his gaze resting upon a gaunt figure in the crowd, whose back was slightly hunched.
Upon hearing this, Feng Duying first glanced at Gu Yunyuan before directing her gaze toward the man in question.
 “In response to your esteemed presence,” the stalwart man perceived the acquaintance between the young master and General Feng Ying, deducing he must be an official of the Imperial Court. With his hands clasped in reverence, he addressed Gu Yunyuan, his voice coarse yet manner refined, “My forefathers were once the proprietors of a bookshop, which allowed me to peruse a few volumes in my youth.”
 “I see,” Gu Yunyuan replied with a gentle smile, then turned his gaze toward Feng Duying.
A thought struck Feng Duying’s heart, as she was unexpectedly attentive. She addressed the man, “Since you have been exposed to literature, and judging by your appearance, you’re likely not suited for heavy labor, you may undertake clerical tasks.” As she spoke, she tore a piece of her sleeve, revealing a golden phoenix feather. She handed it to the man, “Take this token and seek the River Warden, Lord Wang Hui. He will make suitable arrangements upon seeing it.”
 The man could not have anticipated such an opportunity. He abruptly lifted his head to behold Feng Duying, tears brimming in his eyes. With a resounding thud, he kowtowed once more, “This humble one expresses his deepest gratitude for the life-saving grace bestowed by the General and this esteemed person. In the next life, I shall repay this kindness with utmost devotion!”
 “Arise,” intoned Feng Duying, her gaze sweeping the assembly once more. “Should any among you possess skills, present yourselves to the River Warden upon reaching the Wei River. He shall assess your talents and allocate you accordingly.”
 “We understand, and are grateful for your guidance, General!” The crowd prostrated themselves again, expressing their gratitude for the immense favor.
 Feng Duying strode forth, silently turning to depart. By the time the crowd had risen, only the young master who had once advised them to live well remained.
 “Even the heavens do not forsake the living,” Gu Yunyuan addressed the group with a faint smile, a gentle breeze that seemed to sweep away the clouds of gloom and melancholy, inspiring a sense of pristine clarity. “Farewell,” he bowed in parting, before striding away.
The wanderers behind him remained immersed in their delight and excitement.
 Beyond the broken wall, Gu Yunyuan hastened his pace, catching up to Feng Duying and Du Kang. “General, do you intend to return to the city now?”
 Feng Duying, with an air of indolence, had no desire to respond. He reached out and took the reins Du Kang handed to her.
 “What a splendid steed!” Gu Yunyuan admired the majestic, snow-white horse in front of him, and in a single step, he stood beside the creature. His hand gently brushed the horse’s mane, displaying an air of familiarity. To his surprise, the white horse tilted its head and nuzzled against his hand, showing an unusual intimacy.
 Upon witnessing this, Feng Duying’s eyebrows furrowed, and she inwardly scoffed at Gu Yunyuan: ‘As if this is your first encounter with the horse!’ Her eyes, however, bore into the white horse, questioning its sudden change in demeanor. The steed, known for its usual standoffish attitude towards strangers, seemed to have no temper towards Gu Yunyuan alone. Why?!
 Gu Yunyuan’s gaze shifted from the white steed to Feng Duying, a smile brimming on his face. Yet, to Feng Duying, this smile seemed to bear ill intent, causing a shiver down her spine. She promptly lifted her foot, intending to mount the horse and depart. “This steed possesses such an imposing demeanor. Surely it can bear the weight of two riders. I beseech you, General, to allow me to accompany you on this journey.”
 His voice was neither loud nor soft, just enough to reach Feng Duying’s ears, causing her foot to pause midair before it could step on the stirrup. “From here, it will take more than half an hour to return to the city. I’m afraid by the time I arrive, the city gates will have already been closed,” Gu Yunyuan remarked, glancing at the darkening sky and then rubbing his belly. “Alas, poor me, I have yet to partake in the evening meal.”
 Feng Duying’s forehead twitched, her veins pulsating as she leaped onto the horse. “Du Kang, you take him with you.” Before her words could fully escape her lips, she had already flicked the horsewhip. The white steed reared and galloped away, swiftly disappearing into the distance.
 Gu Yunyuan watched the white horse fade into the horizon before turning to Du Kang and letting out a sigh. “What do you think, is she simply repulsed by me or is she truly frightened of me?”
 Du Kang’s expression remained impassive, his silence speaking volumes.
 Gazing upon the steed led by Du Kang, Gu Yunyuan lamented with a touch of regret, “If only you weren’t here, Du Kang, General Feng would surely offer me a ride upon her fine mount.”
 The taciturn Du Kang remained silent, casting but a fleeting glance at Gu Yunyuan, contemplating whether to assist him in mounting the horse. However, Gu Yunyuan nimbly leaped astride the horse with a swift flip, his agility betraying the delicate scholar’s appearance he presented.
Du Kang had little interest in pondering this, raising his palm to strike the horse’s hindquarters, prompting it to gallop forth. With nimble grace, he kept pace beside the horse.
Upon the horse’s back, Gu Yunyuan sat securely, not at all surprised by Du Kang’s actions. Holding the reins in one hand, he spoke to Du Kang, “Du Kang, over these years, you’ve been by General Feng’s side day and night. How is it that her envious brothers have never laid a finger on you?”
 Du Kang remained silent.
 Undeterred, Gu Yunyuan continued, “Alas, poor me, never having accompanied her for even a day, nor ever committing any outrageous deeds. Yet for years, I’ve been seen as a thorn in the side of her brothers, such unjust treatment indeed.”
 Du Kang’s silence persisted, but he could no longer suppress a faint snort from his nostrils. He thought, “The deeds you, Lord Gu, have committed are indeed regarded with disdain by her brothers.”
“Du Kang, you’ve mentioned that I’ve been demoted to the rank of an eighth-grade literary official; is it possible for me to be demoted even further in the future?”
“…”
“Du Kang, with you barely uttering a word all day, how could she possibly bear your presence?”
“…”

******

 On the dawn of the second day, the strategy of retreating to advance had not been employed.
Atop the jade throne, Dong Shixiu saw the figure of the prince and the princess standing side by side dressed in black and white, and took the initiative to speak with her. Although it was just a question, “Is it appropriate to attend the morning court without wearing proper court attire?”, the six brothers of the Emperor breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the standoff between the siblings had finally come to an end. In the past, in response to such an inquiry, Feng Duying might have casually replied, “It’s more comfortable this way,” but today, when her Elder Brother finally deigned to acknowledge her, she could only obediently utter an “Oh,” without further elaboration.
 After the morning court was dismissed, the seven of them received a message from the Inner Palace eunuch, “His Majesty requests the presence of the generals at the Lingxiao Hall.”
 Upon acknowledging the summons, the six brothers didn’t immediately head to the Lingxiao Hall but rather slowed their pace in unison. For instance, when passing by Mingjing Hall, Huang Ti noticed a few imperial nephews practicing martial arts, and he offered them some pointers; Ning Jingyuan accidentally “lost his way” in the palace, so several court ladies vied to guide him, their gentle voices accompanying him as they leisurely toured the grounds; Feng Ji took a detour to the royal garden to admire the peony flowers; Bai Yima visited Langya Pavilion to find a few books; Hua Jingtai went to the royal treasury to feast his eyes on the glittering treasures; and Nan Pianyue, rubbing his belly, arrived at the imperial kitchen, lamenting, “I haven’t had breakfast yet, I’m so hungry,” before finding himself seated before a table laden with delicacies, heartily feasting.
 Approximately an hour later, the six brothers arrived at the Lingxiao Hall simultaneously.
 Upon pushing open the palace doors, the spacious hall was quiet and serene. On the crimson carpeted floor, Feng Duying was sound asleep, her head pillowed on someone’s lap.
It seemed that they had reconciled.
The six of them exchanged faint smiles.
 The person whose leg was being used as a pillow by Feng Duying was none other than the reigning emperor, Dong Shixiu. Although he was seated upon the ground, his imposing figure still radiated an awe-inspiring presence. Draped in a long robe and with disheveled hair, he appeared like an idle man who had no concerns for his livelihood, and yet his commanding aura was undeniable. With one hand, he idly toyed with a strand of his wind-swept hair, while the other held a stack of memorials. As the six individuals entered, he casually gestured towards the piles of memorials on the ground, saying, “One pile per person.”
 Spread across the crimson carpeted floor, there were only a few low tables laden with tea, fruits, and fine wine, as well as some scattered cushions. The rest was entirely covered in memorials.
 “I knew it! There is no good news when big brother calls us!” The first to speak up was Nan Pianyue, the youngest brother among the eight siblings. At twenty-one years of age, his round and lovable baby face made him appear more like a teenager. Gazing at the stacks of memorials, his face contorted into a bitter expression, “Why do we have to deal with these even after moving out of the palace?”
 Reviewing memorials was an exclusive task for the Emperor, but their Eldest Brother seemed to be an exception, often involving his siblings in such matters. Ever since the eight of them resided together in the palace, they were dragged by their Eldest Brother to peruse memorials daily, often working late into the night without rest. One of the reasons he had desired to move out of the palace was to escape the responsibility of reviewing memorials, but he had not expected that even after moving out, they would still be summoned to Lingxiao Hall. The Lingxiao Hall was a forbidden area within the palace, and aside from the eight siblings, no ministers, concubines, or eunuchs were allowed entry unless summoned.
 Every time they were summoned to Lingxiao Hall, people believed that the siblings were “discussing state affairs,” but no one was aware that they were, in fact, being coerced into undertaking “the emperor’s duties.”
 “What clamor do you raise? None who have been summoned to the Lingxiao Hall have ever been spared.”
 Ning Jingyuan heaved a resigned sigh, his eyes eternally gleaming with laughter. He quickly seated himself before a stack of papers that appeared slightly less in number, aiming to ease his burden by even the smallest degree.
 As Ning Jingyuan settled down, Nan Pianyue was about to leap to that stack of papers, yet found himself a step too late. Bearing in mind the lesson that “the Third Brother must not be offended, after the Fourth Brother,” he had no choice but to select another stack and sit down, still grumbling under his breath, “Not a trace of brotherly manners, not even letting his younger brother choose first.”
 Ning Jingyuan feigned deafness to the remark, shaking out a paper with a flick of his wrist. The rustling sound made the hairs on the back of Nan Pianyue’s neck stand on end, prompting him to cease his complaints and obediently pick up a paper. However, his eyes couldn’t help but surreptitiously scan his other brothers, searching for an opportunity to exploit.
 On the other side, Huang Ti and Bai Yima exchanged no further words, each intently reviewing the papers before them.
 Hua Jingtai sat before a stack of papers as well, yet he did not forget to remind Dong Shixiu, “Eldest Brother, this is not within my purview. To review these for you, my monthly stipend must be increased by one hundred stones.” Clad in golden robes, his hair fastened with a golden crown, and his arms adorned with golden bracelets, even the slightest movement sent forth dazzling rays of golden light, blinding all who beheld him.
 Upon hearing his words, Dong Shixiu remained silent, while Ning Jingyuan graciously reminded his younger brother with a compassionate tone, “Sixth brother, the golden radiance that envelops you has drawn the attention of the officials from the Imperial Censorate for quite some time now.”
 Hua Jingtai was reminded of the piercing gazes that seemed to stab into his very being, and he couldn’t help but point at Feng Ji, “Evidently, the jade ornament on Fourth Brother’s waist is worth more than ten times my attire, yet those Imperial Censors have determined that I am the corrupt official, keeping a vigilant watch over me. Why is that?”
 Ning Jingyuan shook his head, “You’ve always considered yourself astute, yet you fail to comprehend such a simple truth.”
 “I beseech Third Brother to enlighten me,” Hua Jingtai earnestly bowed his hands.
Thus, Ning Jingyuan imparted wisdom to his younger brother in a tone imbued with a deep, melancholic sigh, “It is an age-old belief that one’s appearance dictates their moral character.”
Nan Pianyue couldn’t help but snicker loudly, before hurriedly covering his mouth in a pretentious manner. His eyes darted between the parchment and Feng Ji.
“Aha!” Hua Jingtai feigned sudden enlightenment, before graciously waving his hand, “In that case, I can only accept my fate.”
 In a manner that appeared as though he hadn’t heard their words, Feng Ji casually flipped through the stack of papers, dividing them into several smaller piles in a mere moment. Thereafter, he carried each pile to his various brothers. “Second Brother, these papers pertain to matters of martial officials. Third Brother, consider these concerning the promotions and demotions of civil officials. Fifth Brother, these criminal cases are for you to resolve at the D Mansion. Sixth Brother, these are requests for tax reductions and exemptions. Eighth Brother, learn from these regarding the rituals and ceremonies of the Imperial Court.” Thus, he distributed the stack of papers accordingly.
 As more papers were added, Huang Ti simply perused and approved them without any reaction. Bai Yima merely shook his head with a smile and let the matter pass. Ning Jingyuan raised his gaze to his younger brother and, just as he was about to speak, he saw the unbridled threat in his brother’s eyes that read, “Next inspection, it’s your turn.” After weighing the pros and cons, he deemed that reviewing a few papers was much easier compared to months of tiresome travel and thus remained silent. Hua Jingtai’s response was even simpler, as he directly stated, “Fourth Brother, I want one of those Ink Snow Peonies you’ve cultivated.” Everyone present displayed a knowing expression at his request. That rare and extraordinary flower was unique to Feng Ji’s residence, and once acquired, it would undoubtedly fetch a fortune in exchange.
 “Money slave,” muttered Nan Pianyue softly.
 “It’s the Wealth God General!” Hua Jingtai corrected without even lifting his head.
Nan Pianyue glanced at the shimmering gold adorning him and decided not to argue. Instead, he turned to Feng Ji and said, “Fourth Brother, it’s clearly one person per pile!”
 “Since Elder Brother is occupied, this younger brother shall take over the task,” Feng Ji replied with a warm and gentle smile.
Nan Pianyue’s heart quivered at the excessively tender grin, yet he couldn’t help but ask, “Why didn’t you help Second Brother or Third Brother?”
 “Since younger brother is occupied, Elder Brother shall take over the task,” Feng Ji responded matter-of-factly.
 “I am the younger brother! Moreover, the youngest one!” Nan Pianyue emphasized the words “younger brother.”
 “Since Elder Brother is occupied, this younger brother shall take over the task,” Feng Ji calmly repeated his previous statement.
 Nan Pianyue stared with widened eyes and a speechless tongue.
 He wanted to shout: Fourth Brother, you’re nothing but a hypocrite!
 He also wanted to exclaim: They should call upon the entire world to witness how their flawless and supreme leader, the number one individual in the Eastern Realm, shamelessly oppresses his siblings in private!
Of course, he only dared to scream these words within the confines of his heart.
 At this moment, he gazed at Dong Shixiu with a face full of grievances, “Eldest Brother, won’t you manage this situation?”
 “I have divided the task fairly into six portions,” Dong Shixiu leisurely flipped through the documents in his hand, implying that it was their responsibility to complete the reviews, regardless of who does it.
 “But why is Seventh Sister allowed not to participate?” Nan Pianyue gazed at the peacefully sleeping Feng Duying with dissatisfaction.
 However, Dong Shixiu’s reply only served to further frustrate him.
 “With only one sister, she naturally deserves to be pampered. As for brothers, there are plenty, even if one perishes, several others remain.”
 Having said that, Dong Shixiu gently stroked Feng Duying’s hair, displaying a loving elder brother’s demeanor.
“Wuu, wuu, wuu…” Nan Pianyue covered his face as he cried mournfully, “I want to sever ties… I am the youngest after all, so why does no one pamper me? Wuu, wuu, wuu… Each of you just take advantage of my youth and inability to defeat you… Wuu, wuu, wuu… Not a single one of you cares about me…”
 The people in the hall remained unmoved, as if they hadn’t heard his lament. Only Bai Yima turned his head to look at his Eighth Brother helplessly. Although he was certain that there were no tears beneath the sleeve, he couldn’t help but say, “Eighth Brother, I’ll help you share some of the burden.” Bai Yima, a gentleman with a refined appearance, ranked fifth among the eight, and was also the most gentle and amiable of the diverse group.
 Indeed, upon hearing this, Nan Pianyue immediately put down his work, a bright smile adorning his youthful face. “Fifth Brother is truly the best,” he declared, hastily moving all the documents in front of him toward Bai Yima, save for one that he retained, casually flipping through it as he lounged to the side. He resolved to wield his vermilion brush only after his elder brothers had finished reviewing the papers.
 “Young Eight, I heard you’ve taken a fancy to a lass who sells wine at a certain tavern,” Ning Jingyuan unexpectedly interjected.
 Nan Pianyue, startled by the remark, promptly straightened up and widened his eyes. “What does Third Brother have in mind?” he inquired cautiously, resembling a cat whose tail had been stepped on, its fur standing on end as it warily observed its surroundings.
In truth, his reaction could not be considered unreasonable.
 Judging by the experiences of his elder brothers with their romantic affairs, Nan Pianyue had concluded that those noble-born, beautiful young ladies from illustrious families were rather difficult to get along with. Thus, he decided to marry a commoner girl as his wife, evading the matchmaker’s help and opting to seek her out himself. However, just as he began to develop feelings for a girl from a certain household, his elder brothers rushed to “look out for their Eighth Brother” under that pretext, surrounding the place for a glimpse. The outcome was predictable: these ostentatious generals frightened the ordinary folk, causing the girls to tremble in fear and avoid any further association with him, proclaiming that they “dared not entertain the thought of such a lofty alliance.” Consequently, he endeavored to proceed discreetly this time, fearing that his elder brothers might once again foil his plans. Alas, it seemed he could not evade the keen senses of his perceptive Third Brother.
 “Nothing special.” Ning Jingyuan casually remarked, “I merely wonder, if that young lady were to behold your rascally and dishonest demeanor, would she still dare to wed you?”
 “Hmph, what rascally and dishonest behavior? I am clearly adorable and well-behaved,” retorted Nan Pianyue, whose thick skin was unmatched among the eight of them.
 Whack! As soon as his words left his mouth, his head was struck by a folded paper thrown by Hua Jingtai. “Little Eight, I can’t help but want to slap you. Don’t blame me for it.” This younger brother was already a grown man in his twenties, yet he still clung to the appearance of an innocent child, his shamelessness beyond reproach.
 Nan Pianyue’s lips pursed, contemplating another round of tears and tantrums. But as Feng Duying turned over, Dong Shixiu raised a hand, affixing another folded paper onto Nan Pianyue’s mouth.
 “Get to work, or sleep,” he commanded.
 Nan Pianyue’s eyes rolled, pondering the consequences of waking Feng Duying. He glanced over at Feng Ji, who was leisurely reclining by the table, seemingly enjoying a cup of tea with his eyes closed, and decided to accept the situation for now. With a wave of his brush and folded paper, he laid down and went to sleep.
 The grand hall fell into a momentary silence, with only the rustling of folded papers and the gentle scratching of brushes filling the air.

*Li (unit) – 1 li = 0,5 Km

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