Ambition

Next came the opening of the ancestral hall and the ceremonies, all proceeding smoothly. The ancestral hall is the most sacred place for a family; even if the Cui clan wished to meddle, they were powerless, so for the blood-kin recognition, Gu Fei had nothing to worry about.

She followed behind Master Gu Zhong, with Nurse Ku pushing her wheelchair. Whatever Gu Zhong did, she imitated, and after the rites in the ancestral hall, even the few movements left her sweating. The chill wind made her back uncomfortable.

Then came the opening of the family register, to officially record Gu Fei’s name. Gu Zhong asked Feng Puyu, a guest of high standing and reputation, to provide ink and brush for the ceremony, choosing treasured ink from his own collection.

Feng Puyu was a man of virtue and learning. He personally prepared the ink, selected an appropriate brush, dipped it generously, and handed it to Gu Zhong.

It was Gu Fei’s first time seeing Feng Puyu: long, silver brows reaching his jaw, a beard flowing to his chest, dressed in a simple silver-gray robe, the very image of a vigorous elder. Perhaps her gaze was too direct, for Feng Puyu turned and looked back at her, a smile curling beneath his silver beard as he stroked it and squinted in amusement.

Gu Fei returned the smile. At first glance, she could see that Feng Puyu was indeed a person of high virtue and prestige, and from the bottom of her heart she felt respect.

Meanwhile, Gu Zhong carefully turned the family register, and in the proper place, using the brush given by the esteemed master, wrote Gu Fei’s name with meticulous attention. Thus, Gu Fei was truly recognized as a descendant of the Gu family.

Some guests applauded, congratulating Gu Zhong and General Gu in succession. Among them, only Mo Cheng’s expression was less than pleasant; he did not come forward, but stood at a distance, his deep gaze fixed on Gu Fei, who smiled calmly and returned the greetings. For a moment, his thoughts were impossible to discern.

Lunch naturally kept all the guests, but Gu Fei, seeing there was nothing for her to do, excused herself, citing fatigue, and returned to Qingmo Court.

In Qingmo Court, Danqing had been taken back by the Cui clan, leaving only Nurse Ku to manage the spacious courtyard.

Gu Fei did not find it lonely. She waved Nurse Ku off to fetch some food from the ancestral house, then sat alone by the water jar under the eaves, watching the free-swimming koi, not even bothering to roll up her sleeves as she absent-mindedly reached into the water.

Her slender fingers, veins faintly visible beneath the skin, were soaked in the cool water, sending a shiver through her body.

The koi were bold and unafraid, swimming up to her fingers, their tails as soft as silk fluttering back and forth, weaving in and out as if addicted to the game.

“Fei,” rang a clear voice like the moon, and soon after, Feng Lizhi entered, wearing a moon-white robe embroidered with subtle bamboo patterns. “Why is there no maidservant attending you? Your long sleeves are in the water.”

Gu Fei looked up, her obsidian eyes pure and deep. She glanced at her own sleeve as if it were nothing. “Lizhi, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be dining in the front hall?”

Feng Lizhi frowned, standing a yard away, eyeing her damp sleeve. After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped forward, pinching her hand between his fingers and lifting it out of the jar. “The weather may be hot, but soaking in cold water is not good for your health.”

Gu Fei was momentarily stunned, not expecting such concern from Feng Lizhi.

He was inclined to offer her a handkerchief, but mindful of propriety, he let go and stepped back a few paces, so as not to invite gossip.

Water droplets slid from her porcelain-white fingertips, refracting sunlight into glimmers of gold. Gu Fei shook her hand, unconcerned about her wet sleeve. “Is there something you need, Lizhi?”

Feng Lizhi smiled lightly, his handsome brows arching. “I wanted to congratulate you earlier, but couldn’t find a suitable moment. Here, this is your gift.”

He took a square, dark ink box from his sleeve.

Gu Fei accepted it without ceremony, opening it to find a fine ink pellet shaped like a person—her own likeness, to her astonishment.

She looked at Feng Lizhi, eyes wide with delight and surprise.

He laughed heartily, pride shining in his noble features, and pointed at the ink pellet with his folding fan. “Well? Does it please you, Fei?”

Gu Fei’s eyes sparkled; her rosy nails traced the face, then the hair and robes of the ink pellet. Smiling, she replied, “It pleases me, of course. It suits me perfectly.”

She then asked, “Did you carve the ink mold yourself, Lizhi?”

Only such a mold could produce so unique a pellet.

Feng Lizhi’s handsome visage gleamed. He lifted his chin and snapped open his fan, fanning it twice with a proud air that drew the eye. “Of course. But rest assured, Fei, I made only this one pellet from the mold and destroyed it afterwards. This ink pellet is one of a kind in the world.”

At her lips, Gu Fei carefully wrapped the pellet in red silk and closed the box, a warm current surging in her chest.

Feng Lizhi’s gesture moved her deeply.

Their acquaintance had been her own calculated scheme—from their sharp exchanges at the Ink Workshop’s tasting event to the Hidden Ink Association, she had always approached him with a mind to use him. Though she had harmed him not at all, their friendship had been tainted by her lack of sincerity.

Now, with Feng Lizhi responding in earnest, she found her past self laughable.

Silently self-mocking, she looked up again, her face aglow with a gentle smile, this time reaching her eyes and warming her dark pupils. “I accept your gift, Lizhi. Hereafter, this ink pellet shall be one of my most treasured possessions.”

Feng Lizhi waved his hand, bidding her not to dwell on it. “We are kindred spirits. A scholar dies for his confidant; a woman adorns herself for her beloved. That is the way of things.”

A confidant?

Gu Fei felt her heart quicken. She lifted her head slightly, gazing at the man standing a yard away, radiant as the moon, pride and sharpness in his bones, dazzling in sunlight in a way she had never seen before.

Feng Lizhi came and went quickly; with not even a servant in Qingmo Court, he did not linger. After presenting his gift and exchanging a few words, he turned and departed.

Gu Fei herself put away the ink pellet and instructed Nurse Ku not to touch it without her permission.

The bustle in the Gu household did not subside until late in the night. When all the guests had gone, Gu Zhong, having drunk a few extra cups, remembered Gu Fei and, feeling uneasy, made his way to Qingmo Court.

Gu Fei had just awakened from her midday rest and, seeing Gu Zhong enter, snorted softly.

Gu Zhong was calculating the benefits those two ink molds had already brought to the Gu family—even Feng Puyu had become an ally. As he watched Gu Fei, he pondered how to begin.

“Uncle, shall I bring you something to sober up?” Gu Fei’s brows furrowed slightly, staying far from Gu Zhong. Her sharp sense of smell had already detected the reek of alcohol, and it made her nauseous.

Gu Zhong’s eyes flickered. After a moment’s contemplation, he spoke, “Fei, now that you are part of the Gu family, I won’t beat around the bush. The ink molds you provided earlier were praised even by Feng Puyu. You know well the situation of our Gu family in Yizhou, so I must ask: what are your plans?”

Though his words sought her opinion, they boxed Gu Fei in, leaving her no escape.

Gu Fei’s heart chilled. She tapped the armrest, producing a rhythmic sound, and replied without evasion, “Since you put it so directly, I won’t speak in riddles, Uncle…”

“Will you dare to do business with me?” she asked.

At the mention of business, Gu Zhong’s interest was piqued, his eyes gleaming. “How do you propose?”

Gu Fei’s pale lips curved gently, her voice, lower than most, carrying a silken chill, clear and pure. “I will provide ink molds, but—”

“I want to participate in the Gu family’s ink-making business!”

This was the ambition Gu Fei had been plotting all along.