Snow viewing in winter, leisurely chess in summer.

Snow-capped mountain ranges, the soft dialect of Jiangnan’s waterscapes, scholarly scenery, the endless northern plains stretching as far as the eye could see, ancient-style town streets…

It must be said that ancient air quality was truly excellent.

Having reincarnated several lifetimes, this was the first time An Ning had freely roamed about as an ancient person.

If not for her travel companion Xie being “delicate and frail,” often lazier than herself—earning countless eye rolls from An Ning—and occasional minor troubles caused by her excessive fame, she considered this journey rather pleasant.

After over a decade of wandering north and south, An Ning finally reentered the capital upon receiving news of Madam Yang’s critical illness while admiring a rare seven-colored begonia in a Yangzhou guild hall.

After the empire’s unification, many technologies were no longer secrets. The grafting techniques improved by An Ning and the Agricultural Ministry became widely popular among folk artisans, producing many masters…

Just days earlier, they had received letters from Xiao Qi complaining about excessive workload and longing for talented assistance—the implications obvious.

Well… pretending not to catch the hint, An Ning was happy to oblige her friend’s request.

After all, what they’d encountered most on their travels were talented individuals…

In the mild April climate, amidst scholars’ praises and Jiangnan folk songs…

Madam Chu received the letter from her maid, and only then did An Ning vaguely recall a somewhat blurred figure from memory.

The Chu family!

Indeed, it was time to return.

Thanks to modern ship technology, the downstream journey took less than half a month before An Ning’s party returned to their homeland.

A decade later, the capital’s streets had grown livelier with various snacks and performances everywhere. The Chu residence, however, remained largely unchanged except for the increasingly polished stone lions at its gates.

Knowing the Grand Tutor’s imminent return, the Chu household servants couldn’t conceal their joy for days, undampened even by the mistress’s grave illness.

Chu’s second and third brothers had sent people to wait at the docks days in advance, adorning themselves lavishly with the finest accessories, their plain clothes radiating elegance as they eagerly awaited at the gates.

After a brief glance at the undisguised delight in Chu San’s and his sisters’ eyes, An Ning quickly averted her gaze…

Against all expectations—most assumed a critically ill person couldn’t last half a month—Madam Yang, her emaciated face nearly fleshless, her hair streaked white, still fixed her dim eyes firmly on the newcomer when An Ning arrived.

“Mother!”

After a light greeting, An Ning stopped three feet from the bedside, making no further approach as she idly surveyed the furnishings:

The octagonal colored-glass vase, golden nanmu screen, several-feet-tall white jade Buddha statue…

All extravagantly luxurious.

As the Chu family matriarch and birth mother of the Chancellor, Madam Yang’s surface treatment hadn’t lacked over the years, despite their notorious estrangement.

Though only superficially.

The attendants in the main courtyard appeared dazed until An Ning’s arrival revived them slightly.

“Eldest… eldest brother, perhaps my wife should dismiss the servants first. Mother has missed you all these years…”

Placing the barely-touched white jade spoon aside, Third Madam Chu Zhou hurried forward obsequiously.

At An Ning’s nod, Zhou’s smile widened, though her gaze lingered momentarily on An Ning’s clear, evidently unmoved eyes before turning to her half-dead mother-in-law with unconcealed disgust.

What useless trash, unable to retain even her own son’s affection!

She’d heard from elders how filial the Chancellor had been—what absurdity had this woman committed to drive such a jade-like figure to complete estrangement?

Recalling the household’s state over the years, Zhou’s disgust deepened. Had this woman not been so foolish, her husband’s relationship with his eldest brother wouldn’t have deteriorated so…

Only after everyone withdrew did An Ning finally look closely at the woman before her:

“Mother, no need to pretend. Unless I’m mistaken, you can speak now.”

After a long silence, a hoarse voice finally came from the small room:

“So… you knew. Physician Wang… I… *cough* never noticed…”

Madam Yang’s bloodshot eyes glared fixedly. Even now, she couldn’t comprehend how this person had mastered such advanced medical skills under her nose.

But considering An Ning’s methods over the years…

Of course. Without capability, how could she have become today’s Chancellor Chu?

Chancellor—she’d underestimated this one indeed.

“Indeed. Had I not secretly studied medicine, how would I have discovered that the one who most wanted me dead in this household was you, Mother?”

“*Cough* Nonsense… that medicine wasn’t fatal!”

Fatal? An Ning scoffed internally. No, just enough to weaken someone day by day until the third son came of age to inherit, while the original conveniently wasted away on a sickbed, vacating the position?

How ruthlessly efficient.

From birth to death, the original girl’s entire worth had been thoroughly squeezed dry.

Recalling her early days in this body—barely able to sleep, her hands and feet terrifyingly cold even in warm April, a fifteen-year-old girl without even her first menstruation.

Without her accumulated medical knowledge across lifetimes, this body likely wouldn’t have survived thirty.

Then again, in the previous life, it hadn’t.

“Not fatal…” An Ning found this laughable: “Does Mother consider sparing my life some grand benevolence?”

The bedridden woman remained silent for a long time.

“*Cough*… Regardless, I gave you this life! I bore you through mortal danger during wartime!”

An Ning couldn’t even muster the will to refute.

How utterly tedious—across eras, such people never ceased to exist.

Madam Yang, meanwhile, stared blankly at this person whom time had treated kindly—still elegant and composed in her forties.

Her gaze suddenly stung:

Memories returned to that day—relentless pursuers, fires everywhere, guards dying before her eyes.

In a small broken temple, everyone panicked while she, eight months pregnant, feared daily being abandoned as deadweight.

Yet even then, this unfilial daughter hadn’t spared her.

For years, Madam Yang wondered—why a daughter? From pregnancy onward, misfortunes piled up…

Her life plunged into darkness, while this one flourished increasingly:

The cherished Chu heir, jade-like noble eldest son, grandmother’s treasure, father’s reliance, servants’ respect—all glory was this one’s.

Meanwhile, she and her hard-won son moldered in the Chu residence’s dark corners…

Her son, the rightful heir, lived less visibly than a ghost.

She wasn’t wrong—she only sought to restore proper order. What was her crime?

She wasn’t wrong.

Hearing the murmured words, An Ning merely smiled slightly before falling silent.

Over a decade ago, when grandmother died, perhaps having sensed something, she’d held An Ning’s hand and advised:

“Your mother wasn’t always like this. The times changed her—she was once kind and generous, even sending her mother-in-law and daughters to safety first during the rebellion while she, six months pregnant, led pursuers away…”

This world knew no unconditional kindness.

Hence the grandmother’s loathing for Lady Jiang’s branch, her insistence on preserving the matriarch’s position despite years of absence, her kindness to the first two daughters.

Staring at the woman’s gaunt, sharpened features bearing no trace of former generosity, An Ning reflected:

Perhaps this woman had once been a loving mother, a respected, kind matron.

But…

So what?

Her suffering hadn’t been inflicted by the original.

Nor had that kindness ever touched the original, or herself. What relevance did it hold?

With so many deserving targets for hatred, this woman had directed her most venomous resentment toward the daughter who loved and tolerated her most…

How laughable! How absurd!

As the woman finally closed her eyes, facing the complex, eager gazes of Chu Father and the family, An Ning’s departing steps didn’t pause.

Leaving the Chus—some resentful, some regretful—to stare helplessly at her retreating figure, not daring to act.

Outside, a stone-blue carriage waited by the road.

***

“The Chancellor has returned!”

“His Excellency is back!”

“I wonder what this return means…”

Despite An Ning’s low profile, news spread like wildfire by the next day, reaching noble houses and common streets alike.

Capital taverns and restaurants buzzed overnight with green-robed scholars debating.

Everyone speculated whether this return was permanent, and its political implications—especially among the princes who’d been at each other’s throats.

Though absent from court for over a decade, none doubted the Chancellor’s influence—from the Emperor’s constant mentions to the many ministry heads he’d mentored and promoted.

Hailed as scholars’ guiding light and model—a true luminary who stabilized the nation during chaos before withdrawing, unstained.

Moreover, he commanded the people’s hearts—the ultimate prize.

The princes knew even faint praise from him could halve their struggles.

Having just bid farewell to the nearly-fifty, increasingly long-winded Emperor Jianyuan after an afternoon tea that lasted hours (the Emperor even tried preventing their departure), An Ning returned to find his residence nearly buried under visiting cards.

The Chu family?

Sorry, what was that? Capital dwellers knew better—seeing how despite imperial favor, the Chancellor had never secured positions for other Chus, not even an honorary title for his birth mother…

Anyone daring to criticize his filial piety would be instantly shouted down:

How dare you! Clearly, the fault lay with the unkind Chu family who’d wounded their pure-hearted Chancellor!

Eager crowds even dug up “evidence” of the Chu patriarch favoring the concubine’s second son over the capable eldest, and Madam Chu’s younger-son favoritism and schemes against the heir.

The revelations broke countless gentlewomen’s and scholars’ hearts—since ancient times, the beautiful-strong-tragic archetype wielded nuclear appeal.

Imagine—the legitimate heir, unloved by parents, his talents suppressed at home amidst storms, yet emerging brilliantly without bitterness…

*Sob*… truly their admirable Chancellor!

Some even theorized his lifelong bachelorhood stemmed from childhood trauma destroying familial aspirations.

Damn those Chus!

Thus, whatever An Ning did, the public invented countless justifications…

The rumors hit the Chu family hardest—already under scrutiny as a prominent clan, now exposed for mistreating their illustrious son.

Hence despite An Ning’s high position, the Chus gained little benefit, mostly criticism.

The only downside? Whenever folk operas or novels about her circulated, under Xie’s mocking fox-like gaze, An Ning cringed unbearably.

Heavens! Neither she nor the original had suffered wolf-father cruelty—no winter kneeling punishments or fearful nibbling!

The day after mourning ended, while princes dreamed and crowds flooded the Chancellor’s residence with cards, An Ning’s party quietly boarded a southbound ship.

Lying comfortably in the cabin, she sighed contentedly.

Return to office? No way!

As if she didn’t know Emperor Jianyuan had stealthily moved morning court several hours earlier during their absence!

As for the Emperor’s darkened mood next day and the inexplicably scapegoated ministers and princes… what did that have to do with two happily traveling individuals?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep