My wife, Wei Gui, was 1.9 meters tall and fought against the Tang dynasty for the throne.

"Sir, that Du Chen is so unreasonable! I was only one day late submitting the account books, and he already gave me a demerit!"

"Sir, Du Chen is scrutinizing my accounts, nitpicking over even the smallest things, like the difference between a few dozen bushels of grain. Is that really necessary?"

"Sir, Du Chen is just a bookworm, inflexible and doesn't know how to adapt. How can you put him in charge of core documents?"

Li Ju listened without commenting.

"I understand," he said. "You can go back now."

After the complainant left, Li Ju continued reviewing official documents.

He didn't talk to Du Chen, didn't interfere with his work, and didn't even mention these things.

Du Chen soon learned that someone was complaining about him. He also knew that Chief Li hadn't said anything or changed anything.

He still managed the documents and ledgers, remained meticulous, and was still unapproachable.

One evening, only Li Ju and Du Chen remained in the duty room.

Du Chen tidied up the account books, stood up, walked to Li Ju's desk, and bowed.

"In charge."

"Um?"

"These days, people have come to complain about me."

Li Ju put down his pen and looked at him.

"The magistrate doesn't question me or blame me," Du Chen said, his voice low but earnest. "Du Chen thanks the magistrate for his trust."

Li Ju leaned back in his chair and looked at him for a moment.

"Du Chen, do you know why I used you?"

"Please enlighten me, sir."

"Because you are capable and clean," Li Ju said. "The Grand Canal handles a million shi of grain every year. In the past, embezzlement was rampant and the accounts were chaotic. I need someone who can keep the accounts straight, manage the money and grain, and—won't embezzle."

He looked into Du Chen's eyes: "You did it."

Du Chen remained silent for a moment, then cupped his hands and bowed even deeper.

"Du Chen is willing to serve his master."

"Work hard," Li Ju said. "Share your ideas with me, don't keep them to yourself. Your mind isn't just filled with ledgers."

Du Chen raised his head and glanced at him.

This young person in charge had a deeper understanding than he had.

"Yes," he said.

As Du Chen stepped out of the duty room, dusk had already fallen. He stood under the eaves, watching the last rays of the setting sun.

He had worked in the previous government office for three years, where he was ostracized for all three years.

No one wanted to use him, and no one believed in him.

He thought that this was how his life would be—a reclusive clerk, despised by others, copying and writing until old age, and then dying in obscurity.

Today, someone told him: You did it.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the night.

My steps were much lighter than when I arrived.

When Li Ju came out of the yamen, it was almost dark.

He didn't ride a horse, but walked slowly along the streets and alleys, his mind still on Du Chen.

This person, if used correctly, is a sharp blade. If used incorrectly, he is just a stone.

But he was confident that he would use the knife well.

As he passed a noodle stall, he smelled the aroma of noodles and realized that he hadn't had dinner yet.

"A bowl of wontons, please." He sat down.

The noodle stall owner responded and got to work.

Before the wontons arrived, a hand suddenly reached out from behind and patted his shoulder.

Li Ju turned around.

Wei Nizi stood behind him, wearing a light pink jacket and matching hair ribbons tied in her double buns, smiling at him.

"Li Huairun! What are you doing here?"

Li Ju looked around but did not see any maids.

Why are you all alone?

"The maid is waiting at the street corner. I told her I wanted to buy candied fruit, so I made a special detour here." Wei Nizi plopped down opposite him, resting his chin on his hands. "I have something important to discuss with you."

"What important matter is it?"

Wei Nizi lowered her voice, her eyes sparkling: "Three days from now, my sister is going to Baima Temple to offer incense. She'll leave in the morning and arrive around 9 AM."

Li Ju's heart skipped a beat.

"How did you know I wanted to see her?" he asked.

Wei Nizi rolled her eyes: "I'm not stupid. You've helped my sister so much, of course you want to see her. Besides—" She paused, then chuckled, "My sister wants to see you too. She may not say it, but I can tell."

Li Ju did not deny it.

He took a sachet from his pocket and placed it on the table.

The sachet is made of moon-white satin, embroidered with a magnolia branch. The stitches are not exquisite, but they are done with care.

It contained the spices he had prepared—agarwood, sandalwood, a little osmanthus, and a tiny bit of borneol.

It is pure yet not bland, elegant yet not vulgar.

"Please pass this on to your older sister," he said.

Wei Nizi picked up the sachet, examined it from all angles, and then brought it close to his nose to smell it. His eyes lit up: "It smells so good! Did you make it yourself?"

"Um."

"My sister will definitely like it." Wei Nizi carefully tucked the sachet into her sleeve, stood up, and said, "Then I'm off. Three days later, at the White Horse Temple, don't forget!"

"I can't forget it."

Wei Nizi turned and ran a few steps, then turned back: "Li Huairun."

"Um?"

"Next time you make osmanthus cake, save me a few extra pieces. My older sister ate most of the last box, and I only ate two!"

Li Ju smiled and said, "Okay."

Wei Nizi nodded in satisfaction and ran off in a flash.

The wontons have been served.

Li Ju lowered his head and took a bite. The hot soup went down his throat, and warmth spread from his stomach.

With the sachet tucked in his hand, Wei Nizi jogged all the way back to the Wei residence.

After entering the second gate, she slowed her pace, pretended to be nonchalant as she walked through the corridor, and pushed open Wei Gui's door.

"Sister! I'm back!"

Wei Gui was sitting by the window reading a book when he heard this. He looked up and saw something stuck to the corner of Wei Ni Zi's mouth—it looked like the sugar stains from a candied hawthorn, with a small sesame seed stuck to it.

"You've been sneaking food again," Wei Gui said calmly.

Wei Nizi subconsciously wiped his mouth, chuckled, took out the moon-white satin sachet from his sleeve, and handed it over with both hands.

"This is from Li Huairun."

Wei Gui put down his book and took the sachet.

The satin was smooth, embroidered with a magnolia branch. She leaned closer to smell it—sandalwood, sandalwood, a faint hint of osmanthus, and a subtle trace of borneol.

"He made it himself," Wei Nizi added, plopping down on the tatami mat and swinging his legs. "He said it was a return gift. He also said he would definitely go to the White Horse Temple in three days."

Wei Gui held the sachet in his palm, his fingertips gently caressing the magnolia branch.

Wei Nizi tilted his head, looked at her expression, and smiled smugly: "Sister, you're happy now, aren't you?"

Wei Gui neither denied nor admitted it.

She carefully tucked the sachet into her sleeve and picked up the book again.

But Wei Nizi noticed that his sister hadn't turned a single page of the book in her hand for quite some time.

Outside the window, the night breeze rustled the bamboo curtains, carrying a faint fragrance of flowers.

Wei Gui gazed at the swaying curtain shadows with a gentle look in his eyes.

three days later.

White Horse Temple.

She silently recited the mantra in her heart, her fingertips gently clenching the sachet inside her sleeve.