After Transmigration, Her Whole Family Are Villains Chapter 251

The winter sunlight was not very warm.

But as long as there was sunlight, one's mood would improve.

Mianmian was helping her father organize books in his study.

Books were an important resource, and a whole carriage was filled with them on their journey to the capital.

The courier industry wasn't very developed at that time, otherwise it would have been more convenient to ship books by courier.

Due to underdeveloped courier services and inconvenient transportation, they only brought carefully selected books.

Or more often, people memorized information in their minds.

Father's study was quite large.

Perhaps because Uncle He had seen the Inspector's suite in Jingzhou, he decorated Father's study with a similar flavor, including a wall-to-wall bookshelf.

Father was organizing the books onto the shelves.

When it came to tidying up, Father wasn't very gifted and worked rather slowly.

Often, he would take out a book, flip through it, then sit down and keep reading.

This greatly reduced his progress.

However, browsing through books randomly was also a kind of enjoyment.

Mianmian was called by her father to stay and help with this task.

Although Mianmian didn't like memorizing books, she could understand what she read. She classified and arranged the books for her father one by one.

Modern people have too many channels to acquire knowledge, so they don't like memorizing books. Ancient people had few channels to acquire knowledge, so they wanted to memorize every book.

Mianmian discovered a pile of books on Yin-Yang and the Eight Trigrams. She hadn't expected her father to believe in such things, or to enjoy reading these types of books.

There were also many books on Chinese medicine, including one titled "Interpretation of Herbal Medicine" authored by Changtian Recluse.

It was obvious that this was her father's pen name.

Calling himself a recluse was quite amusing.

Jiang Mianmian thought about whether she should write a book herself.

At that time, if you wanted to publish a book, it seemed you didn't need to buy an ISBN.

The main limitations were printing and paper.

Jiang Changtian would often pick up a book he hadn't read in a long time, suddenly flip through it, have some memory of it, and then feel a sense of realization.

He closed the book and looked at his busy little daughter arranging the books.

"Mianmian, what do you want to do when we get to the capital?"

"Keep a low profile?" Jiang Mianmian tentatively replied.

Jiang Changtian: Uh-oh.

Something must have gone wrong in her education.

But thinking carefully, it seemed his little daughter was speaking the truth.

As a Fifth-rank Commander, an official pardoned from being a rebel, they would indeed be at the bottom of the heap in the capital.

Above them were officials of the fourth, third, second, and first ranks.

There were also various royal relatives and nobles.

Their only relatives in the capital now were their in-laws, the Mengs.

The court valued civil officials over military ones, so their in-laws probably weren't doing very well either.

When he visited the Meng family, he found no signs of factionalism or nepotism, which indicated two possibilities: either his in-laws were too upright, or they had been excluded from the inner circles.

Jiang Changtian, who always assumed the worst about people, felt it was probably the latter.

The Meng family had been excluded from the center of power.

But to advance in officialdom, one must collude, form factions, and take sides.

Pure officials, straight officials, only become the emperor's tools because others won't play with them.

Becoming a tool means losing one's personality.

Take for example the confiscation of Inspector He's property...

He too was a big tool.

As Jiang Changtian thought about it, he realized something was wrong - all the officials he was on good terms with in the court were tools.

Two tools already.

But he still had connections. His Third Son had finally entered the palace.

If he hadn't guessed wrong, the current favorite of the Emperor, Eunuch Yan Wenxin, was his Third Son.

Only there had been no correspondence, so Jiang Changtian wasn't sure.

It would be better to wait until they met to confirm.

As newcomers to the capital, they should indeed keep a low profile.

But hearing these words from his daughter's mouth somehow felt off.

Jiang Changtian began to understand Luoxia's urge to spank the child.

His hand was itching a bit too.

But looking at his daughter's smiling face, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

With Mianmian's help, Jiang Changtian's efficiency in organizing the study greatly improved, and the books were classified and arranged.

Then Mother had someone call them for dinner.

Without looking at the connected courtyard next door, just their own small courtyard felt quite cozy.

It was convenient to call for meals.

Lunch was simple, with the cook from Jingzhou who had come with them preparing familiar flavors.

Noodles.

It seemed people in the capital didn't eat noodles much.

Mianmian's tastes now followed her family's, and she also liked eating noodles.

"The water here doesn't seem right, the noodles aren't as chewy, not as tasty," Qin Luoxia complained.

"The nobles here specially go to Clear Spring Mountain outside the city to fetch water, and that water costs money. I heard many people spend money to buy water for drinking. Those aristocrats think there are too many people in the city, making the water turbid and unpalatable, especially for making tea. They use mountain spring water," said Jiang Feng.

Although Qin Luoxia had been Madam Jiang for a long time, following her husband, she was still surprised at the idea of spending money to buy water. If their family had such a mountain, wouldn't it be an inexhaustible source of income? As long as there was water, there would be money, lasting for generations.

"Who owns Clear Spring Mountain?" Qin Luoxia asked curiously.

"Clear Spring Mountain belongs to the royal family. The money is probably collected by people from the Imperial Household Department," answered Jiang 'All-Knowing' Changtian.

Mianmian thought to herself, it's not surprising. In the future, even ordinary people have to buy water to drink. But this using mountain spring water for tea... she felt like an arrow shot many years ago had somehow hit her on the forehead today.

What a sucker.

"Then let's buy a bucket tomorrow to try," said Qin Luoxia, who was very adaptable to local customs. She thought her husband might need that water for making tea.

Thinking about it this way, expenses in the capital seemed quite high.

The house had already cost a lot of their savings.

The two neighboring courtyards hadn't been fixed up yet.

They couldn't let Brother He keep spending money either; some debts should be repaid.

Her husband should get a new official position in the capital. According to Brother He, seeking an official position also required giving favors.

The capital was much more corrupt than the provinces.

As the family talked, lunch was finished.

There was no afternoon nap.

There was still an important matter to attend to today.

Paying respects to Zi Lu.

Jiang Mianmian actually didn't know quite what to do.

Because she had received a separate letter from Zi Xiaochong, asking her to help take care of the turtle he raised.

And he seemed very depressed.

This kind of emotion, others couldn't comfort him.

Every word seemed pale and powerless.

She didn't even know how to reply to the letter.

The weather was fine.

There was an endless stream of people leaving the city for an outing.

At the foot of Yanshan Mountain, there was a green lawn, not the flat kind, but a large slope where one could roll down from the top.

There was a river.

Even in winter it didn't freeze, with water flowing gently, making a pleasant sound.

It was already evening by the time they arrived outside the city.

When the sunset glow filled the sky.

It was at such a time that Mianmian saw her childhood friend again.

He stood in front of the grave, dressed in white robes, with his black hair tied up only in the front, the ends of his hair and clothes fluttering gently in the wind.

"A peerless gentleman in the world, like jade among the common folk."

This poem had two more lines.

"Unable to be born in the same era, I only wish to be buried in the same earth."

Seeing a uniquely handsome and jade-like young man, although they couldn't be born at the same time, the ancient people hoped to be buried in the same place after death.

The practicality and romance of the ancients.

Seeing a handsome man, they even thought about the burial place.

In her memory, the five or six-year-old boy didn't like to talk, was very serious, a bit precocious, probably lacked love, liked her mother, his eyes always wandering to her mother.

Now he had become a dashing young man, a teenager of about fifteen or sixteen, very tall, like his father.

Not fat, but lean and lanky.

Very beautiful.

Zi Lu had a bearded, romantic, and gallant air, like a martial arts alliance leader, with the free and easy manner of Xiao Feng.

Zi Congheng grew up clean and beautiful, with a pair of cold and clear eyes.

For Jiang Mianmian, who was used to seeing her father every day, seeing Zi Congheng again and finding him so beautiful was quite rare.

Fortunately.

Her childhood friend hadn't grown up ugly, but had become even more handsome.

Zi Congheng turned to look at Mianmian.

They had exchanged letters.

Not many.

Just a few words, but he always felt her life was vivid and exciting.