Chapter 9: Chapter 8: Lending a Helping Hand, Suddenly Waking Up

Night had just fallen. After seeing off the last eunuch who had come to him for help writing a letter, Liang Xin prepared to close his doors and go to sleep, when suddenly Li Zhuyu, Consort Zhao, entered the room accompanied by her maidservant.

Liang Xin hurriedly bowed to Consort Zhao. "This servant greets Your Ladyship."

Consort Zhao lightly raised her right hand and said, "No need for formalities."

Hearing this, Liang Xin replied, "Thank you, Your Ladyship." He then stood up, and following protocol, he clasped his hands and asked, "May I ask what Your Ladyship requires of this servant?"

Consort Zhao glanced sideways at her personal maid, who immediately went to close the door to Liang Xin's room. Then, Consort Zhao reached into the lining of her clothes, pulled out a letter, and handed it to Liang Xin, saying, "I have a letter here; I would like to ask you to read it aloud for me."

As Liang Xin took the letter, he suddenly remembered that this Li Zhuyu was originally the daughter of the owner of the Yunlai Inn in Bianjing. One day, while Zhao Ji was traveling incognito outside the palace, he took an interest in her, brought her into the palace to favor her, and bestowed upon her the title of Consort Zhao.

However, Zhao Ji was naturally a philanderer; not long after he had first favored Li Zhuyu, he had already cast her aside. It was pitiful that a woman from the common folk like Li Zhuyu had no family background or foundation in the palace, making her life extremely difficult. Furthermore, in this Northern Song era that preached that a woman's lack of talent was her virtue, she couldn't even understand a simple family letter and had to come to beg a lowly eunuch like Liang Xin to read it for her.

While Liang Xin's thoughts raced, his hands did not stop for a moment. After opening the letter, he scanned it briefly, and immediately his brow furrowed. The contents of the letter were not long, only about five hundred words, but the content was quite difficult to accept. Setting aside the brief greetings, the entire letter informed Li Zhuyu that her family's inn had accidentally caught fire and burned down; her father, overcome with grief and unable to vent his frustration, had collapsed in bed and had not been able to get up since. The purpose of writing this letter was to ask Li Zhuyu to send one hundred taels of silver home to pay for her father's medical treatment.

After glancing at Li Zhuyu, Liang Xin read the letter aloud. Upon hearing it, tears instantly fell from Consort Zhao's eyes, and her entire body swayed weakly.

"One hundred taels of silver? Where am I supposed to get one hundred taels of silver?" Li Zhuyu was momentarily dazed; in her distraction, she forgot to refer to herself as "This Palace" and instead used "I."

One hundred taels of silver was neither too much nor too little, but it was not surprising that Li Zhuyu could not produce it. As a Consort, her food, drink, and daily necessities were managed by the Palace Internal Affairs Bureau, and the jewelry and ornaments bestowed by the Emperor could not be taken out to be sold. To put it bluntly, she might be even poorer than an ordinary palace maid—a classic case of being "rich on the outside but empty on the inside."

Of course, normally such a matter could be reported to the Emperor to seek his grace, but in the six years since Li Zhuyu entered the palace, she had only spent three days with the Emperor. On ordinary days, she couldn't even catch a glimpse of him, so how could she hope to reach his ears?

Perhaps due to her anxiety and grief, Li Zhuyu actually sat down in Liang Xin's room and began to sob uncontrollably, with the little maidservant beside her also weeping in sorrow.

Seeing a great beauty like Li Zhuyu with tears like pear blossoms, Liang Xin felt a sudden pang of pity. He walked into the inner room, opened his wardrobe, and took out two gold ingots.

These gold ingots had been bestowed upon Liang Xin by the Empress; there were five in total, each weighing five taels. Two ingots together made ten taels, which was worth well over one hundred taels of silver.

Liang Xin walked to the main hall, placed the two gold ingots beside Li Zhuyu, and said, "Your Ladyship need not be anxious. This servant has ten taels of gold here to offer Your Ladyship for your emergency."

Li Zhuyu turned her head to look; the two gold ingots on the table were shining brilliantly, proving their excellent quality.

"How can this be? We are neither kin nor friends; how can I accept your gold?"

Liang Xin bowed slightly and said, "Why would Your Ladyship say such a thing? You are the master and I am the servant. For a master to use a servant's things is an act of grace toward the servant; there is no question of whether it is right or wrong." While Liang Xin's words were righteous, his heart was screaming: *Damned feudalism! Damned!*

"This..." Li Zhuyu was stunned. When had she ever received such respect in the palace? Because she was not favored, the palace servants had long since been insincere and dismissive toward her. Even when going to the Internal Affairs Bureau to collect her monthly rouge, powder, clothes, shoes, and stockings, the servants would often give her maids attitude and intentionally make things difficult.

After a moment of thought, Li Zhuyu looked up at Liang Xin and said, "I will accept the gold for now. I, Li Zhuyu, will surely keep this kindness in my heart. If there is an opportunity in the future, I will certainly repay you."

"Your Ladyship overstates it," Liang Xin said with a slight nod.

Li Zhuyu took a deep breath, wiped her tears, and said to the maid beside her, "It is getting late. Yue'er, let us return."

"Safe travels, Your Ladyship," Liang Xin said, bowing.

Li Zhuyu turned back to look at Liang Xin and said, "I thought the world within this palace was cold and human emotions were thin, but I did not expect to see that true affection still exists in this world. Thank you." With that, Li Zhuyu left, supported by her maid, Yue'er.

Liang Xin shook his head and muttered to himself, "Three thousand beauties in the deep palace, how many resentful women are among them?" Just as he closed the door, there was suddenly another knock.

Liang Xin felt a bit depressed and asked quite irritably, "Who is it?"

"Brother Xin, it's me, Little Li from the Imperial Kitchen."

"Little Li?" Liang Xin frowned and thought for a moment, but he truly couldn't remember who this Little Li was. He guessed it was likely a small eunuch who had once asked him to write a letter.

Liang Xin walked to the door and pulled it open, only to see an old eunuch in his forties following behind Little Li. The old eunuch was dressed in a dragon-patterned robe, suggesting he was a eunuch of considerable rank.

Following the principle that politeness never hurts, Liang Xin bowed slightly to the old eunuch and said, "This lowly one greets the Eunuch."

The old eunuch nodded slightly and said, "No need for formalities. I am Wang An, Little Li's biological uncle. I have come today because I have a request; I hope you won't refuse, brother."

As he spoke, Wang An raised his hand to reveal a stack of Xuan paper, upon which lay two very high-quality gold ingots.

*Just lost two ingots and now two more arrive?* Liang Xin thought to himself, wondering who this Wang An was and how he could afford to be so extravagant.

Regardless of who it was, since money was being brought to his door, Liang Xin had no reason to refuse. After welcoming Wang An and Little Li into the room, Liang Xin unfolded the Xuan paper to look at it. At a glance, he fell in love with it and blurted out, "Is this Liu Gongquan's *'Calligraphy on the Occasion of Summer Excitement'*?"

"Indeed." Wang An showed a look of appreciation, thinking to himself that he had indeed found the right person.

Liang Xin looked at it with infatuation, then said with a hint of regret, "It is a copy, but it can be confirmed that it is a copy of an original masterpiece."

"It is naturally an original." Wang An became even more certain he hadn't misjudged the man. He stood up readily and said, "I have come this time hoping that you, brother, will transcribe it once in the Liu style, so that I may use it for my collection."

Liang Xin nodded, his eyes darting around as he said, "Transcribing it once is certainly no problem; the Liu style or the Yan style are both fine. However, should a name be left at the end of the calligraphy? Otherwise, in the future, Your Excellency might not be able to distinguish whether this calligraphy is real or fake, or who created it."

Wang An's eyebrows shot up. He immediately understood that Liang Xin had guessed what was going on. Indeed, this was something Wang An himself had not considered. If Zhao Huan's name was not left, once it was taken back to the Crown Prince's manor, Zhao Huan would have to sign it himself. And if the signature differed greatly from the calligraphy's brushwork, it would surely be discovered at once when presented to His Majesty.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Wang An nodded and said, "Little Li, you step out for a moment. I have a few private words to discuss with Brother Liang Xin alone."

"Yes, Uncle." Hearing this, Little Li immediately walked out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him.

Only then did Wang An lower his voice mysteriously and say to Liang Xin, "Sign the name 'Zhao Huan'."

Liang Xin was slightly startled. He looked at Wang An and whispered, "The Crown Prince?"

Wang An nodded and said, "This matter is top secret. If it is leaked, you will surely die, so remember to guard your mouth."

Liang Xin sneered inwardly, thinking that this Emperor Qin actually was a coward—even needing a ghostwriter for calligraphy. No wonder his end would be so tragic.

Tragic? A cold sweat broke out on Liang Xin's back. From the moment he had traveled back to the Northern Song until now, he had not once thought about the history of this era. It was already the fifth year of Zhenghe; the time when the Jin would destroy the Liao and then move south to invade the Song, creating the Jingkang Incident, was not far off.