Chapter 130: Court Ladies of the Twilight Court

Yan Yu’s so-called enlightenment was somewhat playful. At first, Yan Huaiwen never thought his little niece had any talent for studying, so he casually handed her a copy of The Thousand-Character Classic.

His reasoning was that since Tianyou had already taught her to recognize characters, it would be proper for her to learn reading and writing together.

However, as Er Ya memorized more and more books, gradually revealing a reading talent surpassing Heng’er’s, while also being charming, obedient, and sharp-witted, Yan Huaiwen found himself with mixed emotions.

He was both pleased and regretful.

He never agreed with the saying that “a woman’s virtue lies in her lack of talent,” nor did he care for the court officials who opposed female officers in the government.

With frequent natural disasters, foreign invasions, rampant corruption, incompetent officials occupying high positions, endless factional strife, and the people suffering terribly, the Twilight Court of the previous dynasty once complemented the imperial government.

It governed six bureaus: Benevolence and Care, Benevolence for Children, Benevolence of Heart, Benevolence and Protection, Benevolence in Medicine, and Benevolence in Defense.

These bureaus assisted the elderly and young, established medical institutions for women, and ran industries across various sectors to be self-sufficient. They even maintained a military force for protection.

It was created to assist the emperor and empress in governing the realm.

Talented women had the opportunity to put their skills to use, serving as officials alongside men. They could study and take examinations to enter the Twilight Court, receiving ranks and salaries. Those with great achievements were honored in the Imperial Ancestral Temple, bringing glory to their families.

However, since the founding of the current dynasty, the position of the empress had been weak and ever-changing, leading to the Twilight Court’s decline. It suffered deliberate suppression and, over time, lost its former prestige.

Gradually, it merged with the palace’s inner court female officials.

The Benevolence in Medicine and Benevolence in Defense bureaus were abolished.

The six bureaus shrank to four.

Now confined within the capital, it barely existed in name.

Mockingly referred to as the “Curtain Court,” it symbolized the twilight of an era, its former glory never to return.

Yan Huaiwen had dealt with these Twilight Court ladies before. They were all composed, quiet, and highly competent individuals.

In times of need, he had dispatched female officials to aid in disaster relief and assist the people. He had to admit, Twilight Court ladies were exceptionally skilled in such matters and highly efficient.

There had even been petitions to reinstate female officials in administrative roles. However, the emperor’s stance remained unclear, and opposition roared throughout the court. More importantly, the Twilight Court was already in its twilight—there was no new generation to succeed it.

Each imperial succession brought instability to the empress’s position, deeply affecting the court ladies.

The tradition of mothers passing skills to daughters, or masters training disciples, had gradually faded.

A century had buried much of history.

Outside the capital, people no longer remembered what the Twilight Court was, what the Benevolence and Protection bureaus stood for, or even that women could once study and become officials.

Yan Huaiwen did not know what kind of woman his little niece would become if she were raised under his care.

Would she be a scholarly woman with vast knowledge? A sharp and capable household matron? Gentle and refined? Bold and unrestrained? Or would she, like most women, soften herself for a man she admired, withdrawing from ambition to become a dutiful wife?

He couldn’t picture it. Instead, he saw endless possibilities.

He indulged this growth, pleased that Tianyou’s family could live freely under his protection.

Yan Huaiwen was willing to dedicate himself to this chaotic world, as long as he could secure a peaceful land for his family.

—

Yan Yu was dozing off.

From Three Character Classic, Hundred Family Surnames, Thousand-Character Classic, to Rhymed Lessons, Jade Forest of Youth, and Standards for Being a Good Student and Child…

Her uncle’s questions were too broad, and he deliberately mixed up the order to test them.

Liang Fengnian, of course, answered with full concentration.

But Yan Yu found it utterly boring.

She completed all her studies halfheartedly.

Memorization was no issue, nor was reciting interpretations. She could even add some “childish” insights appropriate for her age.

Yet, as someone who leaned toward practicality, she saw these studies as primarily serving one purpose—pleasing her uncle.

And now, there was an additional benefit—earning her uncle’s rewards. Heh heh heh!

Moo!

Yan Yu’s eyes lit up.

It was Sanbao!

Dad was back!

“Dad!” Yan Yu ran while shouting.

“Hey! We’re back!” Yan Lao’er responded happily.

Father and daughter greeted each other as if they had been apart for days, their reunion full of excitement.

“Dad, was everything smooth? You must be exhausted!” Yan Yu held up a new handkerchief embroidered by Big Sister Ya and clung to her father’s pants, trying to climb up to wipe his sweat.

Yan Lao’er bent down and gave her a pull.

Yan Yu took the chance to climb onto the ox’s back.

She whispered, “Dad, your strength’s grown!”

Yan Lao’er also whispered, “You don’t weigh much. Don’t underestimate me—I could always do this.”

“No, no, no. I mean, the fairy sister’s snake meat is really good! Everyone in our village—adults and kids alike—has gotten stronger. If we get the chance, we should trade for more. I’ve thought it through. We can ask the fairy sister to process it for us—remove the skin and bones, keep only the clean meat, chop it into pieces. Then we’ll have Sanbao dehydrate it into jerky. No one will be able to tell what kind of meat it is.”

Yan Lao’er said, “Now that you mention it, the weather’s so hot, but our village kids are still full of energy. Compared to refugee children, or even those who have lived in the mountains all their lives, our kids are much healthier.”

“This morning, when they came for soup, they still looked weak—skinny and frail. Some of them had flushed cheeks. I don’t know if it’s from the heat or a fever. If we set out now and they insist on following, they might get sick from exhaustion. Worse, if it’s contagious…”

Yan Lao’er realized the problem.

“Sanbao, take us for a longer walk.”

He needed to discuss this with his daughter.

Sanbao turned its head and picked up the pace toward the woods.

The people behind them weren’t surprised.

Everyone knew Yan Lao’er doted on his child. He was probably just letting her have a fun ride on the ox.

If they had the means, they’d do the same for their kids.

Some children looked on with envy, only to be pulled back by their parents.

“What are you looking at? That’s not your dad.”

“How about sewing some masks?” Yan Lao’er suggested.

They had worn masks for almost three years before coming here—“experienced veterans.”

“But the heat’s unbearable. Wearing ancient-style masks that don’t breathe well? People would suffocate before anything else,” Yan Yu was skeptical.

Besides, with their current materials, making lightweight, breathable masks wasn’t feasible.

“Then let’s ask your Uncle Cui. Maybe he has some medicine to help with prevention.”

Yan Lao’er thought of the only doctor they had, Cui Langzhong—who was practically family now.

“Speaking of which, your mother’s pregnancy makes her even more prone to heat. Has she found anything useful in those medical books?”

“Don’t mention it, Dad. That Essential Prescriptions for a Thousand Gold really lives up to its name. In just the section on women’s health, one ingredient shows up in nearly every prescription.”

“What’s that?” Yan Lao’er was curious.

“Ginseng!” Yan Yu said gloomily.

Cough… cough cough cough! Yan Lao’er nearly choked on his own saliva.

“What?!” His voice shot up in alarm.

“Oh, and donkey-hide gelatin—it’s pretty common too,” Yan Yu added.

“So to keep your mother’s pregnancy safe, all our savings won’t be enough!” Yan Lao’er had thought they had finally started saving some money.

Who knew two expensive medicinal ingredients would ruin his optimism?

(End of Chapter)