The Overachieving Little Husband of the Top Scholar’s Household - Chapter 109: The Crystal Vial

Chapter 109: The Crystal Vial

As the old year drew to its close, the burden of preparing New Year’s gifts loomed large—demanding not only considerable funds but also careful thought in selecting presents that matched the closeness of each relationship and the circumstances of various households.

After this New Year, Jiu Jiu would turn eleven—an age when, in the Yu Dynasty, girls were expected to begin learning the art of household management.

Thus, Qiu Huanian brought her along as he prepared the gift lists.

Though Qiu Huanian had never formally studied this task, in his previous life he had been a high-ranking PR executive at a major firm, adept at coordinating interdepartmental resources and cultivating relationships with media and external partners.

The principles of human relations are timeless. Managing the social intricacies of a modest aristocratic household in ancient times was well within his capabilities.

Through keen observation and a willingness to learn from others when in doubt, he mastered the process through practice and passed on his knowledge to Jiu Jiu.

He began by categorizing the recipients: families in Du Village and its vicinity; literati acquaintances of Du Yunse; frequent contacts in Xiangping Prefecture; and connections within the Jingshan border garrison.

Each group received a standardized gift set, with only the quantity varying by status, thereby avoiding accusations of favoritism.

For closer friends and confidants, he added personal touches to the standard packages.

He had delicate floral jewelry crafted for young girls like Cun Lan at the frontier, Ru Tang from the Shu household, Wei Fuxia—Huang Daniang’s adopted daughter—Zhu Xian from the Zhu family, and Su Xinyao of the Su clan.

To Chi Qinghe, from the Song Juren household, Hu Qiuyan’s son Yun Kang, and Youge of Wei Liuhua’s family, he sent elegant stationery sets.

Liao Cang, the schoolteacher in Du Village, received ten newly printed books, while Yuan Ruo, Chun Sheng’s schoolmate and closest companion, was gifted a floral pearl headband.

Many of these personalized decisions were made by Jiu Jiu, with Qiu Huanian offering input only when she hesitated.

After two or three days of planning, Qiu Huanian handed the finalized lists to the steward, Wu Da, who dispatched household staff to make deliveries within Xiangping and arranged for the Wanshi Escort Bureau to send parcels farther afield.

Though tedious, the regular gift lists were not the most demanding task. One gift in particular required Qiu Huanian’s utmost attention: the offering to the Emperor of the Yu Dynasty, the Yuanhua Emperor.

For various reasons, Qiu Huanian had come under imperial notice—a distinction both honorable and perilous in a feudal world.

Since the Emperor might examine the gifts personally, Qiu Huanian dared not overlook the slightest detail.

In such a society, to offend the monarch was to invite ruin. All Qiu Huanian wanted was a quiet, peaceful life with his family.

When the carefully curated package—containing plum blossom ointment, oyster paste, fine cotton, sugar beet cultivars, and other exquisite items—was finally sealed and dispatched, accompanied by a memorial polished by Du Yunse, Qiu Huanian breathed a long sigh of relief.

Thanks to imperial couriers and their swift horses, the gift reached the capital within ten days. Eunuch Wen Xing, per usual, placed the memorial aside for the Emperor to review in his leisure, after matters of state were settled.

The Yuanhua Emperor, a man forged in battle, showed little interest in the refined fragrance of the plum blossom ointment but found the sugar beet cultivars intriguing.

“Send these to the imperial estate and have them cultivated with care,” he instructed. “Dispatch an envoy to Liaozhou to inquire of Lady Qishu regarding these beets—if they indeed produce white sugar.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Wen Xing replied, eyes lowered.

“Is the Crown Prince still at the imperial estate?”

Wen Xing paused briefly. “Yes, Your Majesty. Though in a few days, it will be the anniversary of the late Empress’s passing. His Highness will surely return to the palace to perform the rites.”

The Emperor said nothing.

Outside, a young eunuch—recently transferred to Jinshen Hall—slipped on the ice. The commotion was minor, but Wen Xing frowned imperceptibly. The young man was quickly removed and disciplined.

The Emperor remained expressionless. “Send two jars of the plum blossom ointment from Lady Qishu to Noble Consort Kang. Distribute one jar to each of the imperial children. The remainder is to be stored in the treasury.”

“As Your Majesty commands.”

The imperial scribe, waiting outside, immediately began drafting the edict.

Snow blanketed the capital in wave after relentless wave, never melting before the next flurry arrived. Temperatures dropped drastically.

Though the palace was the warmest place in the capital, even the imperial estate outside the city—despite using the finest tribute charcoal—struggled to keep the chill at bay.

Inside, Crown Prince Jia Hongyuan stood silently by the open window, draped in a flawless white fox-fur cloak. Snowflakes drifted onto his brows, his face pale and unreadable.

The door opened without a sound. A shadow glided in like a wraith.

Shiliu knelt on one knee. “Your Highness, it is time for your meal and medicine.”

Jia Hongyuan turned to him. “They sent you again.”

Everyone knew the Crown Prince was in poor spirits. Though the Emperor had given each imperial child a jar of plum blossom ointment, the Crown Prince—receiving the same as the others—could not help but feel slighted.

When Jia Hongyuan chose to isolate himself, only Shiliu, his most trusted shadow guard, was permitted to speak to him.

Shiliu made no comment. “The Lady Aunt has finalized the ceremony for the late Empress. She requests that Your Highness review it after your meal.”

Jia Hongyuan tossed the ointment jar toward him. Shiliu caught it with ease. The ‘Qiu’s Six Staples’ seal marked the container.

“This ointment has a pleasant plum fragrance,” Jia Hongyuan murmured. “Keep it.”

Shiliu’s face did not change. “Your Highness, I am a shadow. I cannot carry scent.”

A smile played on Jia Hongyuan’s lips—gentle in form, chilling in tone.

“Who among us isn’t a shadow?”

…

He turned and strode away. “Rise.”

Shiliu stood, his movements fluid and silent. Snow fell outside in a whispering veil. Jia Hongyuan’s voice matched its icy stillness.

“Shiliu, do you remember my mother?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me again—why did she choose you?”

Shiliu repeated the familiar answer, his tone unwavering.

“Thirteen years ago, the late Empress was gravely ill. His Majesty was away on campaign. Concerned by Your Highness’s distress, she sought a companion for you, someone from within the capital who could offer comfort and protection.”

“The head maid suggested selecting a child from the palace training school. Among those who had just completed their training, the late Empress chose me.”

Jia Hongyuan turned, pinching Shiliu’s chin as he studied him.

“Perhaps… she even thought of giving you a name.”

He laughed—a sound like water dripping onto crystal.

“That afternoon, my mother suddenly fell ill and died. I, too, collapsed from sickness and never saw her again.”

“They brought you to me and said… you were her final gift.”

Shiliu bowed his head, lashes shadowing his face.

Jia Hongyuan released him and walked on. Shiliu followed, a few paces behind, silent as mist.

…

A few days before the New Year, a courier delivered the annual gifts from the court to the Township Lord—two bolts of palace silk and a set of delicately crafted jewelry. Though modest in value, to wear a gift from the Emperor during New Year’s was a mark of honor.

Queniang and her daughter Jin’er spent several days tailoring the silk into celebratory garments. Qiu Huanian and Du Yunse each received a set—matching in color but differing in style.

The rest of the family’s winter attire was already prepared. The northeastern cold was unforgiving, so Qiu Huanian spared no expense in ordering fur cloaks for everyone—including Yun Cheng and Meng Yuanling.

Meng Yuanling, now managing Qiu’s Six Staples, had saved fifty or sixty taels over the past year and wanted to buy something for Qiu Huanian.

Qiu Huanian stopped him.

“Save it. When Yun Cheng becomes an official, there will be endless expenses. You’re managing our accounts—you need to plan ahead.”

Yun Cheng had already entered Class B at Qingfeng Academy and was expected to pass the academy exam the following year, qualifying him as a scholar.

With Du Yunse’s mentorship and Qingfeng’s excellent teachers—along with his own diligence—he might even attempt the provincial exam within three years.

Meng Yuanling grinned. “I know. After all this time with Brother Hua, how could I not understand thrift?”

“Still, Yun Cheng and I talked it over. You’ve taken care of us long enough. Let us do something in return.”

Reluctantly, Qiu Huanian agreed.

After scouring all of Xiangping Prefecture, Meng Yuanling found a pair of glass vials painted with Western designs.

“Are these… foreign?”

“Yes,” Meng Yuanling said, “brought by merchant caravans from the Fuzhou port. I thought Brother Hua might appreciate their novelty.”

Qiu Huanian did indeed find them intriguing. Though he had long suspected that this parallel world held many other nations, he had yet to encounter one since arriving in the Yu Dynasty.

The dynasty was not entirely isolationist but maintained limited contact with foreign realms. Apart from vassal state envoys, only three ports in Fuzhou permitted overseas trade.

Living deep inland in the northeast, Qiu Huanian had few chances to see foreign objects.

He examined the glass vials—crude in execution, but unmistakably unique. His mind wandered.

What were the politics and technologies of other nations in this world? If possible, he would one day reach out beyond the Yu Dynasty—to avoid the regrets and catastrophes that befell the history of his original timeline.

He shook the thought aside and placed the vial adorned with a winged angel in the main hall—for guests to admire its novelty.

Such ambitions were still distant. At the very least, he would wait until Du Yunse had entered officialdom and gained some sway before thinking further.