8 Rules

After selecting the servants, it was already noon, time to eat.

To Lin Yun, eating a small table of dishes alone every day seemed excessive; the maid could easily join her. But with Madam Yuan watching closely, at least the basic etiquette had to be observed. So Lin Yun had the footmen fetch two small tables from the storeroom. She dined in her room, keeping one maid to attend her, while the other servants ate at small tables in the side hall.

Eating at separate tables but still attended to was not breaking any rules. It only showed Lin Yun’s particular kindness to her servants, so Madam Yuan chose to turn a blind eye.

Madam Yuan was good in this way—so long as the rules weren’t broken, she wouldn’t interfere as long as Lin Yun stayed on the edge of propriety.

Lin Yun sat waiting for the dishes, calculating that by now Lady Li should have left the manor for the temple. She hadn’t gone to see her off, nor did she intend to gloat or mock in the posture of a victor.

She would rather keep far away from Lady Li, afraid that this lawless woman might suddenly pull out a knife and stab her to death.

Though the chance was slim, with Lady Li, nothing was impossible.

Lin Yun quietly excused her own timidity, recalling the sages’ words: a gentleman does not stand beneath a dangerous wall—and the sages were right.

Though reluctant to get involved, Lady Li’s departure was reason enough for a good meal and a celebration.

Just as Lin Yun was enjoying her meal, Shi Er approached with a cold expression and said, “Third Miss is here to visit. Shall I let her in?”

Lin Qingzhao?

Lin Yun had never met her, but the original owner had once seen her upon returning to the Ningyuan Marquisate. What could she want?

There was no reason to block Lin Qingzhao, so Lin Yun decided to see her. At the same time, she instructed Shi Er to summon the two strong housekeepers and told Ruyi not to let Third Miss touch anything in the room.

Better to be cautious—she feared Lin Qingzhao, like her mother, was a criminal walking on a knife’s edge.

When the woman in a lilac padded jacket and skirt entered, Lin Yun knew she had been overthinking. Lin Qingzhao’s slender figure was frail as a willow bent by the wind; she looked too delicate even to challenge Lin Yun.

Her temperament matched her appearance. Lin Qingzhao showed what it meant to cry before speaking; as soon as her mouth opened, tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Second Sister, I’m giving Brother Jingchi back to you. Please spare my mother, won’t you?”

Lin Yun thought bitterly: between her and Lady Li, who was really refusing to let go?

In real life, Lady Li had killed seven times; in games, Lin Yun had caught and killed someone seven times—these were deep grudges.

Still, Lin Yun was puzzled. “Who is Brother Jingchi?”

Lin Qingzhao widened her eyes, reddened even more, looking pitiable. “He is the legitimate second son of the Duke of Dingguo, the one who was once betrothed to you as a child.”

“I see. No need for all this back and forth. If you want him, take him,” Lin Yun said sincerely.

Not considering whether Lin Qingzhao’s heart was as venomous as Lady Li’s, from appearance alone, she was a little pure white lotus—just the right match for a legitimate duke’s son.

Whether she wanted to reclaim this son? That was laughable.

Lin Yun had little affection for this convenient younger sister, and even distanced herself from Lin Qingzhao through Lady Li. She didn’t care about her feelings. Yet, whether she liked it or not, in a biological sense, this body and Lin Qingzhao belonged to the same family.

The world’s men were not all dead; two daughters from one household competing for the same man was common.

After the fourth reset, when Lin Yun understood the underlying conflict between herself and Lady Li, she had told Lady Li she would never snatch the engagement back—but Lady Li didn’t believe her and kept attacking.

Now, Lin Qingzhao’s expression was the same as Lady Li’s back then, not trusting Lin Yun’s words.

Within this inner residence, they were used to fighting over the scant resources slipping through men’s fingers, battling fiercely to latch onto a man of better status and greater capacity.

Thinking of this, Lin Yun couldn’t help but mock herself.

No matter how clear her thoughts, she had been dragged into the “beast arena” of the inner residence, where Lady Li and the others used their rich experience in household intrigue to easily overwhelm her.

If not for the sudden appearance of the Empress Dowager, she wouldn’t even know where to run now.

Since Lady Li and her mother didn’t believe the truth, Lin Yun could only lie in another way.

“I saw this second son once when I returned to the capital. He’s not handsome—just not my type.”

At this, Lin Qingzhao stopped crying immediately and retorted, “If Brother Jingchi isn’t handsome, what kind of eyes do you have?”

Lin Yun was getting irritated, regretting having let Lin Qingzhao in. Otherwise, she would be enjoying her meal instead of fussing over a man she had never met.

Her tone turned cold. “Fine, I misspoke earlier. He isn’t just not handsome—I think he’s ugly.”

Lin Qingzhao’s face flushed with anger, but Lin Yun ignored her. “Shi Er, see Third Miss out.”

Shi Er dragged Lin Qingzhao out, but just as she was leaving, Lin Qingzhao seemed to remember her real purpose and wailed, “Lin Yun, nothing has happened to you, right? Please spare my mother.”

Lin Yun’s expression grew even colder.

Nothing happened?

She had caused more trouble than anyone knew.

“Doing bad deeds and receiving punishment is only right and proper,” Lin Yun said coldly, meeting Lin Qingzhao’s tearful eyes. “You should have advised your mother not to err before she did, not begged the victim for forgiveness afterward. Also, I’m not the one refusing to let go—it’s you and your mother who refuse to release yourselves, and you only have yourselves to blame.”

With Lin Qingzhao gone, Lin Yun picked up her chopsticks again, biting into a piece of dried eggplant. If Lin Qingzhao wasn’t pretending today, she would not be a master poisoner’s heir but a hopeless romantic.

Still, Lin Yun did not drop her guard and resolved to be cautious anytime Lin Qingzhao appeared. After all—

Foolish love-struck minds often caused more harm than outright villains.

***

After her midday nap, Lin Yun allowed herself a rare moment of idleness, sitting quietly.

Since arriving in the Great Zhou dynasty, she had been in survival mode. Now having a moment to herself, she sat before the bronze mirror, observing herself—or rather, observing Lin Yun.

The reflection was blurred, but she could tell at a glance this was not the original Lin Yun. Same body, different souls, worlds apart.

She had met the original Lin Yun once, when she first transmigrated and shared the body for two hours.

She had not wanted to overtake the girl’s body, searching desperately for a way out. But the other soul had said, “Sister, I can’t hold on anymore. You take the body and do me a favor.”

The girl had wanted her to deliver a letter—one addressed to Lord Pei, Right Vice Censor of the Metropolitan Surveillance Department—personally and discreetly.

Lin Yun did not know what kind of official this was, only that the title was cumbersome. The girl didn’t know either; she was also acting on someone else’s orders. She memorized the complicated title and passed it on to Lin Yun.

Sharing the same body, the girl had gotten out of bed and looked toward the sweet osmanthus tree in the courtyard.

No—both of them had looked through the same eyes at the tree, the sky still dark, the tree’s shadow hazy.

The girl smiled faintly, revealing two dimples. “A few days ago, when I still had strength, I wondered what the osmanthus blossoms looked like. Now I won’t see them bloom. Sister, please look and tell me if the flowers are beautiful and fragrant.”

Recalling this, Lin Yun felt a pang of melancholy.

She didn’t know why the girl had to send the letter. Slowly, the girl’s memories seeped into Lin Yun’s body. She now knew the girl’s life until age seven or eight but remained clueless about what happened afterward to prompt the letter.

She asked Ruyi, “Has Qian Da returned?”

Ruyi shook her head.

That morning, Lin Yun had told Qian Da the cumbersome title of Lord Pei and asked him to inquire discreetly.

Qian Da was obedient, loyal, and trustworthy.

Lin Yun made him keep the secret, and he wouldn’t mention it to anyone.

Besides, Qian Da wasn’t as dumb as others said. In the sixth reset, when they fled the manor at dawn, Qian Da had been indispensable—

He figured out the guard shifts, diverted the sentries, led the horses at midnight, and drove away the carriage.

He might not be clever, but he had a natural instinct, efficiently and keenly achieving his goals.

Once they found Lord Pei’s home, Lin Yun could deliver the original owner’s letter.

After fulfilling the girl’s last wish, what would she do in Great Zhou?

Lin Yun felt uncertain.

First, she definitely would not leave the Ningyuan Marquisate. Being a lone woman without support in Great Zhou was difficult—survival, clothing, food, and shelter all posed challenges.

Now, under the Empress Dowager’s protection and with no immediate threat to life, running off alone would be madness.

But staying here, what would she do?

What could she do?

When she first transmigrated, unaware of Lady Li’s malice, she had studied agriculture and hoped to try something in that field.

But later, with life precarious, she had no mind to think about this. Now that she was safe, she might as well pursue her original idea.

Lin Yun was decisive and quickly outlined several aspects of agriculture in her mind.

Breeding, fertilizing—actions done on the land—she had no chance to test in fields yet, so she would start with small-scale theoretical work. Tools seemed a good entry point.

She went to her desk and asked Ruyi, “Ruyi, you said your family has always farmed. Are your tools made of iron?”

Ruyi said yes.

Iron tools were good. She didn’t need to worry about materials; steel-making was beyond her reach for now, but iron was sufficient.

“Do you use a straight beam or a curved beam plow?”

Ruyi didn’t understand.

Lin Yun rephrased, “Is your plow’s drawbar straight, aligned with the plow body, or curved like the character ‘几’?”

Ruyi thought carefully, then said, “I think the drawbar and the plow body are in a straight line.”

Ruyi wondered how the Second Miss knew more about farming than her own family. Then she recalled the Second Miss had grown up outside and probably learned then.

That meant a straight-beam plow.

Had the curved-beam plow yet to appear?

Lin Yun thought not necessarily.

The invention and popularization of farming tools could be separated by long periods. The curved-beam plow might have been invented but not yet used by farmers.

Still, Lin Yun decided to sketch a curved-beam plow later since she had time.

She asked, “Do you use waterwheels?”

Ruyi nodded.

“Are they wind-powered?”

Ruyi was puzzled. “What does wind-powered mean?”

Likely, wind-powered waterwheels had not yet appeared.

Lin Yun scribbled roughly on paper the words “curved-beam plow” and “wind-powered waterwheel.”

These were her current goals. Though only two words, the process of drawing, modeling, and repeatedly adjusting would be long.

Shi Er stood aside, turning her head to avoid looking; the Second Miss’s handwriting was so ugly and incomplete it was painful to see.

Lin Yun struggled with the brush herself and found writing hard, especially with sketches to do. She then instructed Shi Er, “Go find me a charcoal pencil.”

She assigned this task to Shi Er instead of a footman because her cold expression gave an impression of high efficiency.

Ruyi was surprised—charcoal pencils were used by common folk who couldn’t afford brushes. Now that the Second Miss had one at hand, why seek charcoal?

Shi Er left without a word to fetch them.

Lin Yun continued discussing with Ruyi about their main crops and the months for planting.

Ruyi had little field experience and spoke vaguely. Lin Yun thought she would visit the fields herself when freer to gather information directly from farmers.

After a short talk, Shi Er returned with charcoal pencils.

She had judged correctly; Shi Er was quick and brought several pencils of different thicknesses for Lin Yun to choose from.

Lin Yun sketched a rough outline but knew details required more thought and time.

As Lin Yun drew, Shi Er watched her make abstract scribbles that gradually revealed farming tools.

Her lord said if the Second Miss acted unusually, she must be notified.

Was this unusual?

Shi Er thought the lord was like a strange admirer, assigning her as a secret guard under the Second Miss, to protect her and report back.

Since taking the task, the lord’s noble image had dimmed in her eyes—how could such a commanding figure in court assign someone to secretly watch a beloved?

Shi Er didn’t understand but took the monthly stipend, left the study, secretly wrote a note, and sent it out.

Then she returned quickly to the Second Miss’s side, ready to obey orders. She was diligent, earning the Second Miss’s pay.

She, Shi Er, would do her duty well and not betray her superiors.

She even felt she treated Lin Yun better because she felt guilty about the lies she had told her.

Just after waking from her nap, Lin Yun was shocked but amused by Shi Er’s attempt at her hair. It seemed even ancient times had bad hairdressers.

She commented, “This hairstyle is hard to maintain.”

Shi Er’s iced dessert was so delicious that Lin Yun hardly minded her poor styling skills.

Besides, Ruyi was excellent at hairdressing, so it was better to leave that to her—everyone had their specialty.

Lin Yun leisurely continued her drawings. At the hour of Shen, Madam Yuan came to teach her etiquette: how to bow, how to drink tea, how to eat.

These lessons were preparation for her future visit to the Empress Dowager and to ensure she wouldn’t embarrass herself at grand occasions.

Madam Yuan wasn’t strict and even taught Lin Yun how to conserve effort.

“Prepare a pair of kneepads to wear inside so your knees won’t hurt when kneeling.”

“When standing, shift your weight to your heels for ease.”

“If your tea-drinking posture isn’t elegant, hold your cup and drink fewer sips to reduce trips to the restroom.”

Lin Yun listened, astonished. “Madam Yuan, do you teach etiquette like this in the palace?”

Madam Yuan shook her head. “Of course not. In the palace, I have a bad reputation; the little palace maids say I’m too strict.”

Seeing Lin Yun’s confusion, she continued, “You want to know why I’m not strict with you? For those palace maids, rules are life. If they slip up, one word from their mistress could cost them their lives.

“But Second Miss, you’re different. You have protection. Your etiquette is for show. It’s enough to learn the formality; torturing yourself daily in your room is only making yourself unhappy.”

Lin Yun clumsily mimicked the gestures. Then she heard that Qian Da had returned.

She told Madam Yuan, then hurried to the outer room.

Qian Da, sweating from the winter cold, whispered, “Miss, the Lord Pei you asked about died seven days ago. Today is his seventh day memorial.”