"Subordinate greets the Commandery Princess!"
Jiang Shaohua steadied her mind and turned to look.
There were twenty personal soldiers stationed outside the study, all bowing in salute in unison.
The leading man, approximately thirty-five or thirty-six years old, was tall, with dark skin and sharp eyes. His appearance was completely different from the current trend of handsome and noble features, exuding the demeanor of a military general.
It was precisely Song Yuan, the personal soldier commander of the Nanyang Prince Mansion.
The Da Liang Dynasty had many military families, and the Song Family was not prominent among them. Fortunately, they had a Nanyang Princess. Over the past thirty years, with the support and promotion of Prince Nanyang, the Song Family barely ranked as a second-rate military family.
Sons and nephews of the Song Family held positions in various military camps, with the highest position currently being a third-rank Guerrilla General.
Song Yuan was the nephew of the deceased Princess Nanyang. He entered the Nanyang Prince Mansion as a personal soldier at fifteen, and at twenty-five, he became the personal soldier commander. According to the Da Liang military general officer ranks, Song Yuan was a fifth-rank military officer.
With the passing of Prince Nanyang, the Nanyang Prince Mansion still stood, now governed by the ten-year-old Nanyang County Princess.
In terms of blood relation, Song Yuan was Jiang Yan's cousin, and Jiang Shaohua's maternal uncle. However, Song Yuan always adhered to protocol and never claimed kinship publicly. He was even more respectful than before.
Song Yuan was extremely respectful, and the other personal soldiers followed suit, bowing their fists, with no one daring to neglect their master.
Jiang Shaohua observed the loyal Song Yuan.
Years ago, when she went to the Capital City, Song Yuan led two hundred trusted aides to accompany her. The palace gates were like the sea; she entered the harem, while Song Yuan and the personal soldiers were stopped outside the palace gates, forever stationed at the Nanyang Prince Mansion in the Capital City.
At sixteen, she married into the Wang Family, and Song Yuan brought the personal soldiers along to the Wang Family. With the personal soldiers following her, she remained composed amidst the den of tigers and wolves, and nobody dared to bully her.
At twenty-eight, she encountered an assassination while out, and Song Yuan suffered a stab wound to protect his master, injuring his heart and lungs. He nursed his injuries for half a year, but ultimately passed away.
By that time, he was already over fifty years old, with graying hair, a forehead full of wrinkles, and in the decline of old age.
"Uncle," she tightly grasped his hand, tears in her eyes, choking back words.
He used his last ounce of strength to deeply gaze at her, sighing softly, "Fortunately, you are safe and well; even if I go to the Yellow Springs, I won't be ashamed to face Cousin Yan."
It turned out that the silent, steadfast, and reliable uncle never married because of her mother, Jiang Yan.
Meanwhile, her father, Lu Xuan, who was renowned worldwide for his deep love for his deceased wife, had just taken a seventeen-year-old young concubine, engaging in the romance of a pear blossom overshadowing the begonia.
Jiang Shaohua remained silent, while Song Yuan was secretly astonished but did not use the corner of his eye to gauge Jiang Shaohua's expression, continuing to maintain his saluting posture.
It had been a year since Prince Nanyang passed, and the hearts in the mansion had begun to waver. Some privately murmured that the Commandery Princess was still a child, and moreover a girl, and could not bear the weight of the Prince Mansion.
Even in the personal guard camp, occasionally someone would gossip. He caught two and thoroughly whipped them with fifty military rods, smashing their behinds.
After that, no one in the personal guard camp dared to speak recklessly.
"Uncle, please rise."
A slender, porcelain-like hand helped him up.
Song Yuan: "..."
He was taken aback by the title "Uncle."
He didn't even notice the surprisingly strong force of the hand which directly "helped" him up.
"How can the Commandery Princess address a subordinate like this," the typically composed Commander Song spoke awkwardly, his dark face quickly turning red: "This subordinate is unworthy."
Jiang Shaohua revealed the first smile since her rebirth: "I have not seen Uncle for a long time, my heart is filled with joy, feelings cannot be restrained. Uncle need not be flustered."
Song Yuan's hands and feet almost didn't know where to place them, embarrassed but unable to suppress his delight.
The Commandery Princess, only ten years old, stood only at his waist. By lowering his head, he could see her face clearly. Still youthful but astoundingly beautiful, resembling Cousin Yan in her youth.
Indeed, still a child. It had not been a long time since they last met, as they had clearly seen each other just two days ago.
His heart softened, and he whispered, "Why did the Commandery Princess suddenly come to the Prince's study?"
Missing the Prince, surely!
Jiang Shaohua's response was unexpected: "I have invited Chief Historian Chen and others to discuss affairs."
Song Yuan was stunned, involuntarily glancing at Jiang Shaohua again.
Since the Prince's departure, Jiang Shaohua had been in the mansion mourning. The mansion's chief historians and advisors worked together, supporting daily affairs. Only important matters would be specifically reported to the Commandery Princess... just as a formality. No one hoped that a ten-year-old child could accomplish anything.
This was the first time Jiang Shaohua actively summoned the Prince Mansion's subordinates.
"Uncle, accompany me into the study," Jiang Shaohua smiled, her eyes full of trust and reliance.
Song Yuan felt a surge of warmth in his heart and nodded in agreement.
He was the commander of the mansion's personal soldiers, commanding two thousand elites. With him present, no one dared to underestimate or deceive the Commandery Princess.
At that moment, footsteps were heard outside the courtyard gate.
Song Yuan's keen hearing caught it, and as he turned his head, he noticed the Commandery Princess had turned her head first.
Song Yuan couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth.
At five years old, the Prince personally taught her martial arts. Unlike her frail mother, the Commandery Princess had exceptional talent, largely considered a martial arts prodigy. She mastered everything from boxing and blade to spear and archery.
The Prince prohibited word from getting out, so the only thing circulated outside the mansion was the Commandery Princess's exceptional memory.
...
A group of people walked into the main courtyard.
This group consisted of six people.
The leading man was fifty-three years old, of medium build, with graying hair at the temples and clear eyes. Despite his age, he remained handsome and elegant, with the refined demeanor of a civil minister.
It was none other than Chen Zhuo, the Left Chief Historian and Chief Advisor of the Nanyang Prince Mansion.
Chen Zhuo was once a legitimate second-grade degree holder, well-versed in literature. Attracted by Prince Nanyang, he was directly appointed from the Ministry of Personnel to be Chief Historian, being the Prince's top confidant.
Next to Chen Zhuo stood a middle-aged man named Feng Wenming, forty-nine years old, the Right Chief Historian of the Nanyang Prince Mansion.
Compared to the elegant and refined Chief Historian Chen, Chief Historian Feng had a square face, large mouth, average looks, and a large black mole on his chin.
During the Imperial Examination of the Da Liang Dynasty, appearance was extremely important. Most prominent court officials were handsome men.
Chief Historian Feng was talented from a young age, securing second place in the regional exams at eighteen. However, his ranking fell to the middle tier during the final palace exams. Despite demonstrating competence, his career progression stalled while working at the Ministry of Revenue.
Chen Zhuo and Feng Wenming were contemporaries and had a personal connection. Seeing Feng Wenming frustrated in his career, Chen Zhuo recommended his friend privately to Prince Nanyang.
Prince Nanyang gladly requested experts from the Ministry of Personnel, subsequently prompting Chief Clerk Feng to pack his bags and move with his family to serve at the Nanyang Prince Mansion. Within a few years, he had become a fifth-rank Right Chief Historian.
Prince Nanyang had the gift of recognizing talent; Chen Zhuo helped in lifting career. Feng Wenming remained deeply loyal to Nanyang County.
These two, along with Song Yuan in the back, were grandfather's confidants, loyal and reliable.
Jiang Shaohua's gaze swept across the other four people present.
Yang Zheng, a Judicial Officer of the sixth rank in charge of the Criminal Department, thirty-four years old, standing eight feet tall, with an imposing appearance.
Qiu Yuanshang, a seventh-rank Chief of Food, overseeing rites and guests, approximately forty years old, with a face full of righteousness and a beautifully groomed beard beneath his chin.
The Chief Clerk managing the Prince Mansion's warehouse, Wen An, the oldest among them, nearly sixty. Short in stature, fair-skinned and plump, always cheerful, welcoming others with a smile.
The last man, thin and as dark as a bamboo pole, with furrowed brows seemingly born with a perpetually worried expression. He was Shen Mu, the eighth-rank Minister of Industry.
Chief Clerk Wen and Minister of Industry Shen stood together, one fair and one dark, one short and one tall, one fat and one thin, presenting a stark contrast and clear comparison.
The important officials of the Nanyang Prince Mansion were gathered here.