Chapter 41: The Empress Dowager Bestows a Marriage

Why not lend Lu Lan a hand? Helping Lu Lan was, in essence, helping herself.

Since the deaths of Lu Lan’s three older brothers in battle, the Duke of Yu’s manor had received various honors and rewards, but ultimately, no one truly envies the accolades bestowed upon the dead. From that moment on, the Lu family had been like the setting sun. Coupled with Lu Lan’s own lawless behavior, the family had no hope of returning to its former glory.

In the book, the fates of Noble Consort Dai and the Ninth Prince, Mo Yuan, were miserable—not because of the original owner of this body, but because of the Empress Dowager, the Empress, and their faction. If she could help Lu Lan make a success of the coal briquette business, perhaps the Lu family could stand tall once more?

Gu Xingwan walked over to the desk, a flash of shrewdness crossing her beautiful eyes.

"Tingzheng, grind the ink."

"Yes, my lady!"

Gu Xingwan held her right sleeve with her left hand and dipped her brush into the ink. Once the brush was saturated, her jade-like fingers moved with grace, the strokes as swift as a startled swan and as vigorous as a soaring dragon. Soon, a beautiful, delicate script appeared on the paper, which she tucked into an envelope and sealed with wax.

"Deliver this letter to the Heir of the Duke personally. Do not let anything go wrong."

"Yes! This servant understands."

Tingzheng accepted the letter cautiously, her expression shifting as she nodded and departed.

...

The Duke of Yu’s manor.

Two days had passed; only five remained until the formal presentation of betrothal gifts. Lu Lan had ordered a collection of items to be set up in Shuiyunjian: all sorts of charcoal stoves, fire basins, and earthen hearths. At first, he assumed the toxic fumes of the black stone required specialized equipment to be removed. As it turned out, no matter what equipment he used, the stench remained unbearable.

Later, he recalled the coal briquettes made by Pang Shiyuan in his previous life—they were round, disc-shaped, and riddled with holes. Following this, he crushed the black stone, mixed it with mud and well water, and used a round mold to create identical discs, leaving them to dry. Yet, when burned, the foul odor did not diminish in the slightest. Neither the equipment nor the shape could eliminate the stench.

Shuiyunjian was originally a beautiful courtyard for the Heir, filled with carved beams, painted pillars, and fragrant flowers. But for days, the lingering stench had given both the master and his servants a relentless headache. The servants now held their noses and walked a wide circle around the courtyard.

"It’s not right. It’s just not right. Pang Shiyuan must have a secret method to remove the odor."

Trapped in Shuiyunjian for two days, Lu Lan obsessed over the coal briquettes. Li Changwei stood dutifully to the side, playing the assistant. Seeing his master’s luxurious Shu brocade robes stained pitch-black, his heart ached so much he couldn't speak—he was mourning the state of the clothes. Lu Lan’s obsession with the black stone had reached the point of forgetting to eat or sleep, day and night.

"My Lord, Heir! Something big has happened! Something huge!"

Xianyu scrambled into Shuiyunjian as if chased by dogs, stumbling so badly he almost face-planted. Lu Lan kicked him in the backside and scolded, "Are you hoping I’ll die early? You’re nagging me to death before I’ve even expired!"

"Heh heh!" Seeing such a familiar, harmonious scene, Li Changwei covered his mouth to hide a giggle.

"No, it’s not that..." Xianyu gasped for breath. "I just heard news on the street that has the whole capital in an uproar. You’ll never guess it."

"Xianyu, if you keep being this annoying, even we will want to kick you," Tong Yan said, rolling his eyes at him.

Xianyu continued with high spirits. "Do you remember the strange news from the capital two days ago?"

"You mean about Mei Xianghan getting beaten up?"

"Guess who hit him?"

Lu Lan remembered what Gu Xingwan had mentioned: on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, Mei Xianghan and Jian Aozhu had been meeting in secret. He immediately guessed the culprit.

"Zhang Yan."

Xianyu gave Lu Lan a thumbs up. "My Lord, you’re divine! How did you guess?"

"Just tell me if I’m right or not."

"Right! That’s why you’re my master! That Zhang Yan is truly miserable. Not only did he lose his wife, but this morning, as soon as he arrived at the Imperial Blade Guard, they stripped him of his embroidered uniform and blade, and threw him directly into the Celestial Prison. The Jian family immediately went to the Zhang house to annul the engagement, and shortly after, an imperial procession arrived at the Mei residence; the Empress Dowager bestowed a marriage upon Jian Aozhu and Mei Xianghan."

Everything unfolded as if it were a pre-arranged play in a theater—it was all too suspicious. Tong Yan’s eyes lit up. "Good heavens! The Mei family’s power is truly immense. They can have the Imperial Blade Guard make an arrest at will, and even get the Empress Dowager to bestow a marriage? Is this for real?"

Yorong chimed in, "I heard Lady Mei is the legitimate daughter of the former Prime Minister, Jin Ziguang, and holds a third-rank title. She is very close to the Empress Dowager; she must have begged for this imperial match."

Lu Lan looked slightly stunned. Since the founding of the dynasty, the Empress Dowager had bestowed a marriage fewer than three times. Jian Aozhu’s fate was quite something.

"Wrong, wrong, Yurong got it wrong," Xianyu hurriedly corrected.

"What did I get wrong?"