Qing Yu Nian, deep within the capital, the residence beside Zhengdao Street rarely saw much activity. Its primary function was to relay Fan Xian's orders and receive news from Wang Qinian, who was stationed in the northern capital. Si Lili's younger brother and others resided in the side rooms, leaving Fan Xian's office space with no habit of lighting a fire.

Although they knew that Director Fan was coming and had prepared a brazier in advance, the room was still filled with a deep chill that couldn't be dispelled quickly. Sitting in his wheelchair, Fan Xian felt the cold and couldn't help but breathe on his hands, wryly saying, "They can't even spare a fire... Is the courtyard really that poor?"

Deng Ziyue was heating an inkstone over the brazier and had ordered his subordinates to fetch hot water to soften the frozen brushes. Hearing his superior's words, he said with a forced smile, "Sir, you've been busy lately and injured. We didn't prepare for your arrival today."

After much effort, Fan Xian propped up his head, watching Deng Ziyue grind the inkstick on the warmed inkstone, mixing it with warm water. He struggled for a long time, like sharpening a knife, before finally producing some ink.

Fan Xian nodded in satisfaction. It seemed his new confidant's ink-grinding skills were not far behind those of the imperial physician. He dipped the softened brush into the ink and wrote a few words on the blank paper… Damn it, the ink had frozen again!

"What kind of weather is this!" Fan Xian roared, throwing the charred-wood-like brush onto the table. "Why wasn't it this cold at home?"

Deng Ziyue felt a gust of cold wind swirling around the room. He cautiously replied, "The braziers in the mansion are much better. This courtyard wasn't equipped with them when it was bought, and we haven't even had time to heat the *kang*."

"I'm not sleeping here," Fan Xian said irritably. "You and old Wang are both stingy... I gave Wang Qinian a thousand taels of silver, and he only spent one hundred and twenty, buying this dilapidated courtyard... Trying to freeze me to death?"

Deng Ziyue sympathized with the former director, who was far away in Northern Qi and still being scolded by Director Fan every day. He advised softly, "It's good because it's quiet."

"It's more than just quiet," Fan Xian glanced at him, saying resentfully, "It's cold and desolate! If those ministers in the capital saw this, they might really think our Supervisory Council is an incorruptible office."

He had several important letters to write today and couldn't worry about so much. He still tried to use the brush, but it was ultimately unwieldy. After several attempts, he finally gave up, slammed the table, and shouted, "Give me that pen!"

Deng Ziyue hesitated for a long time before taking a pen from his inner garments. As he was about to hand it to Fan Xian, a look of caution appeared on his face. He said, "This pen is expensive. I heard the Imperial Treasury doesn't have many left. Please use it sparingly, sir."

Fan Xian snatched it, giving him a look of utter contempt. He thought, it's just a pencil, why is it so precious? When I go to Jiangnan and find a few graphite mines, the Imperial Treasury's pencil business will naturally revive. At that time, I'll have the Imperial Treasury make two baskets for you to carry, one for you to write with until you die, and one for you to throw around in the streets!

...

...

The pencil glided across the snow-white paper, like a beauty's toes dancing on smooth ice, occasionally scraping up a few shavings of ice and snow.

Deng Ziyue knew that Director Fan was writing secret letters and had wisely retreated outside. In the cold study, only Fan Xian was holding the broken pen, writing, the mist from his breath appearing and disappearing on the paper, looking somewhat eerie.

The content of the letter was also quite eerie. Although it was a secret letter from the Supervisory Council, the matter it concerned was too important. Moreover, the pencil marks could be erased, so Fan Xian wasn't too confident. He used relatively obscure language, and important phrases involving time were written in code.

The letter was addressed to Wang Qinian, and it concerned the Cui family. Because the Cui family had suffered severe persecution in the capital, they had been forced to transfer a large batch of smuggled goods to Northern Qi to help the Second Prince and the Xin Yang faction raise money. However, the channels there had not been opened, resulting in a backlog of goods.

Currently, the Cui family's goods that had been transferred from Xin Yang and accumulated on the route and in the northern warehouses accounted for about one-sixth of the Imperial Treasury's annual production!

From this proportion, one could see how bold the Eldest Princess had become in managing the Imperial Treasury these years, showing no mercy in seeking personal gain.

The current situation had been created by Fan Xian and Yan Bingyun's months of efforts to打击the Second Prince and squeeze the Cui family. He was waiting for this moment to devour the other party completely, leaving not even a bone.

The last sentence of the letter to Wang Qinian read: "Dinner is served."

...

...

Sitting in his wheelchair, Fan Xian tilted his head slightly and gently rubbed the area above the wound on his chest, where the straps were tied, causing a slight itch. After writing a letter, his hands were already a little stiff. He suddenly began to miss his time in Danzhou when Sisi helped him copy books every day. When he was copying books, that girl would put his hands in her arms to warm them, feeling plump and remarkably pleasant.

With a slight flutter in his heart, he picked up his pen again. This second letter was to Hai Tang Duoduo, but he wrote it with a lascivious heart, and the words were a little unrestrained, with occasional flirtatious touches.

Since returning from Northern Qi, his correspondence with Hai Tang had never ceased. He had long become accustomed to having such a pen pal in the north. After all, as rising figures of two major countries, maintaining open channels of communication was very necessary and extremely beneficial for the future.

The letter discussed some recent gossip in the Qing capital, of course including the Xuan Kong Temple incident. Although the assassination attempt on the Qing emperor had shocked the world and the Northern Qi capital had already received detailed reports, as a person involved, he would certainly tell the story more engagingly than a storyteller.

He also mentioned some other things and subtly hinted that he was preparing to take action against the Cui family, asking her and that gender-unknown little emperor to cooperate with him. At the end of the letter, he copied a poem to prove that he was still as talented as ever.

"I come to the moss to repay the favor, our bond is not just about profit and glory. The ancients died for their confidants, only fearing their frozen bones buried on the frontier. Do the old friends in the court remember me, wearing heavy furs and fine shoes? It is said that the north is even colder, I wonder how the people there survive."

These were the last few lines of Sima Guang's "Bitter Cold Journey." Fan Xian looked at it with some satisfaction, rubbing his stiff hands. He felt that the poem he had copied was really too appropriate, and the compassion between the lines would probably make Miss Hai Tang think for a long time – deceiving little girls to death without paying for it, which was exactly what he liked to do.

After confirming that nothing was missing, he sealed the envelope and pressed the sealing wax. Suddenly, a thought struck him. He felt that his desire to confide had not been fully satisfied. Facing the plain-looking girl on the other side of the letter, shaking like a village girl, he felt like he was facing an old friend, and for a moment he fell into silence.

Then he spread out another sheet of white paper, pondered for a moment, and wrote:

"Duoduo, hello, the previous letter was official business, this one is just for a casual chat. Today, Kyoto had the first snow of Qingli Year 5, which came earlier than usual. I imagine the snow in the capital is heavier, and the weather is colder. That day, I saw a few plum branches at the corner of the fence in your vegetable garden. I wonder if those winter plum blossoms have bloomed with red spots, to brighten the monotonous face of the white snow."

"Um, how are those ducks you're raising? Be careful, don't let them freeze to death... Everything is fine on my side. Little Yellow, Little Black, and Little White are all being raised on the manor outside the capital. I heard that the workers there treat these three fat cats like ancestors, so how could there be any problems?"

"I'm doing well, eating and sleeping, sleeping and eating, the house is very quiet. These days, my sister has been busy in the Imperial Hospital, and I heard that she has become a rare sight in Kyoto. Wan'er went back to the Lin residence today. My lovely brother-in-law is probably feeling neglected recently and is in a bad mood. I wonder what you're doing at this moment?"

Fan Xian wrote casually, rambling as if he were talking, purely writing whatever came to mind.

"Oh, yes, my student with the surname Shi opened a brothel, and the business is good, especially the dishes are very exquisite. If you ever travel to Qing, I'll take you there. Ah, I suddenly remembered, I forgot the name of that restaurant in the capital, but I remember the wine was good that day, and I said a lot of nonsense to you. I wonder how much you still remember."

"Speaking of which, I've read your previous letters several times, and I always find them unbearably pretentious. You, a dignified Holy Maiden, shouldn't imitate the ways of those ladies from noble families, and you always like to include poems and verses in your letters. Although I have a false reputation as a poetry immortal, I have no interest in correcting essays."

"Last time you said Si Lili is doing well now... Um, don't talk about this kind of thing in the future, I always have a grudge about this matter, and for some reason, I especially hate hearing news about her from your mouth."

"Duoduo, come to Qing to play, my wife is also very curious about you... In addition, I would like to ask, can your Heaven One Path's cultivation method be passed on to outsiders? I've recently become very interested in your cultivation methods."

This seemingly natural question deeply revealed the shamelessness and treachery in the depths of Fan Xian's heart.

"The snow outside the window seems to be getting heavier, and the young man outside is still chopping firewood. Young people are always passionate. But although I'm still young, for some reason, I feel a bit old at heart. Looking at the people and things around me, I always find it difficult to get excited, I'm tired and bored, and it's dull... The wind and snow outside are howling, perhaps urging me to put down my pen, so okay, I'll stop here. The brazier in the room is too broken, and the temperature can't rise. Although I still want to chat with you, I don't think it's necessary to fight against the coldness of heaven... Also, please help me take care of him, thank you, and I wish you well."

Although the letter was casual, it still contained too much useful information. He read the letter again and then added a sentence to the very end: "Wang Qinian, if you dare to peep again, I'll have Mu Tie's nephew go peep at your daughter taking a bath!"

—————————————————————————

"Why is there one more than usual?" Deng Ziyue widened his eyes, looking at Fan Xian as he counted the letters in his hand, "Two letters for Miss Hai Tang?"

"Why are you asking so much?" Fan Xian said, "Still the same old routine, escort them all the way to the capital."

Deng Ziyue nodded and walked outside, handing the sealed letters to the members of the Qinian Group who were already waiting outside. That guy counted the letters in his hand and also asked the same question: "How... are there two?"

Deng Ziyue looked at him, the corners of his lips twitching in an unsightly manner. He took a cold breath and said, "Why are you asking so much?"

The two exchanged glances, nodded, and stopped talking, thinking in their hearts that Director Fan was using the Supervisory Council's highest-level mail route to send... love letters, which was really a bit extravagant.

...

...

Fan Xian left the small courtyard on Shenzheng Road in his wheelchair, got into the carriage, and headed for the Lin residence, preparing to pick up Wan'er and Da Bao to return to the mansion. In the carriage, he suddenly asked, "The Director of Studies at the Imperial Academy... is there anything unusual about this position? Also, I haven't been in the Court of Imperial Sacrifices for a long time, so why am I being promoted to Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices this time?"

Deng Ziyue first explained the latter: "There are two Vice Ministers, with the senior Vice Minister taking the lead, and you, sir, as the deputy... but this is a nominal position, and you don't have to go every day. The Director of Studies at the Imperial Academy oversees the seven disciplines, and both positions are senior fourth-rank." He reminded, "Sir, although you can no longer hold official positions after taking over the post of Director, the court has not issued an imperial decree to remove you from these two positions. This time, His Majesty's decree to appoint you to these two nominal positions is probably just to show his favor, and there may not be any other meaning."

Fan Xian shook his head. These two appointments were the last two items in the Emperor's imperial decree. He didn't take them seriously at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt that something was wrong. The Emperor was a man of deep thoughts and would never use official positions like steamed buns.

"These two positions... are there any... particularly special things about them?" He frowned, organizing his words.

Deng Ziyue thought for a long time before replying somewhat uncertainly, "The position of Vice Minister is common and there is nothing special about it, except that the Court of Imperial Sacrifices is in charge of miscellaneous matters in the ancestral temple, making it more convenient to enter the palace... The Director of Studies at the Imperial Academy has not appeared in recent years. After several new policies, the official positions are a bit chaotic..."

He suddenly slapped his thigh and said happily, "I remember, in the past, the Director of Studies at the Imperial Academy had to enter the palace to lecture the princes, and was the assistant of the Grand Tutor."

Fan Xian was stunned, his mouth gaping, unable to speak for a long time. He finally understood what the Emperor was arranging these two positions for him to do. The Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices plus this Director of Studies at the Imperial Academy, wouldn't he become the princes' teacher?

To be precise, wouldn't he be responsible for disciplining that little brat, the Third Prince?

At this thought, he was shocked and cursed, "I don't have the time to enter the palace every day... Aren't I going to Jiangnan? Why are you arranging such a terrible thing for me to do?"

With a creak, the carriage seemed to be stopped by his curse. The curtain was slightly lifted, and in the drizzling snow, a eunuch was seen leading several palace guards, blocking the carriage in front.

Eunuch Yao looked at Fan Xian in the carriage, shivering with cold. He trembled his eyebrows and said in a trembling voice, "Sir, you're hard to find... Please come with me quickly, His Majesty summons you to the palace."

(Two chapters behind schedule, I didn't control it well.)