Chapter Text
In the quietness of his study, Chen Yan Yun painted. It has long been a habit of his that went beyond scholarly requirements or even vanity need to exercise one’s talent. For him painting was about connecting to the part of himself that he keeps hidden and protected inside of him, to cajole it back to the surface for he is safe here, home.
His paintings told him what worried him, what excited him, what he needed and what he wanted. Not the Grand Secretary of the Dayan Empire, not the de-facto head of Chen Family, not the all-powerful and oh-so-looked-upon pillar of the nation… but him, Yan Yun.
Today’s painting was a waterfall. A cascade of dark, heavy ink that dropped from a great height, seething and churning at the basin with an almost angry, violent energy. And yet, beneath that chaotic surface, a quiet undercurrent seemed to guide the rush; after a short distance, the roaring torrent smoothed out, the fierce ink bleeding into a calm and majestic river that flowed peacefully between banks of lavish green hills.
Was it a metaphor for how his life has been so far and a promise of a better future? Hopefully, but doubtfully still – his life did not have an indication of getting calmer and easier any time soon. The court was as tumultuous as ever, and even with every new ally he made, and even with occasional blessing of a friend looking at things the same way as he did, the climb to nation’s peace and prosperity was still steep and treacherous. Emperor’s Edict about eradication of Chunyuan Sect have been well received and it only took few years to truly rid the country of that plague – but securing the acceptance of new reforms among noble and military families proved far more elusive. Chen Yan Yun dreaded that a part of this reluctance was on him. Many people didn’t take it easy when he rose to the highest political position in the country – the one previously occupied by his old mentor – within a year of his return from Northern Borders. He was instrumental in eradicating enemies from outside and within, he was one of very few people the Emperor truly trusted and he was very much fit for this position with his vision and energy – and yet, in eyes of many, all of this still did not cover for the fact that he was just too young. In private conversations, the Emperor mused that he was also too young to rule the nation and bringing changes to the old set ways should be a job for the young – but in open court every idea and every proposition was not won by aspirational speeches, but by facts, evidence and the sheer power of will.
And it was dangerous, nerve-racking and tiring. And in the last two years since he was appointed Grand Secretary of the Hall of Central Extreme and Grand Preceptor of the Crown Prince it has not gotten easier. So, the green hills and calm waters of his career were still far away. If he was lucky to live long enough, such calmness would only arrive with his retirement.
But the waterfall painting was still there, so alluring in its promise. But maybe it was not about before, now and after. Maybe it was about… just today? Because today, and every today for the past three years, he got to leave the vortex of the court, the dark dangerous waters of political games behind, and come back home. To his own personal peace and safety.
Chen Yan Yun smiled at the thought. For all of his life, his home was a place of responsibility, where his duty of care was to Chen family, their safety and happiness, though never his own. His happiness was never a part of a plan his parents laid out for him, and with all his strong will and many life aspirations, this was the part he didn’t argue about and didn’t care much about. He married when he was supposed to marry and whom he was supposed to marry, he lived his married life comfortably unattached and carried his mourning period with appropriate grace and dignity. That is, until Gu Jin Zhao stole his lantern and lit a great fire that has consumed him ever since. Did he fall in love with her then, her being so full of life and rebellion and independence? Or during her coming-of-age ceremony when she played people around her – including him – like a dizi and he recognized her unusually sharp mind for the kindred spirit it was to his? She pushed, and pulled, and bickered, and begged, and demanded – and somewhere along the road his mind and heart attached to this unusual bright soul and refused to let go! And, thankfully, he never had to. Jin Zhao, his wife, his love and the only thing he ever wanted just for himself – she made his house a home, a safe place with calm waters.
Chen Yan Yun stood up and set aside his brush. The painting will stay on the table to dry and tomorrow he will paint something new. Now was the time for bed and he left his study turning towards their bedchambers only to be stopped by the light glowing through the paper windows across the yard – lady of the house study. And where there’s light, there’s her. Changing his course, Yan Yun approached slowly so as not to disturb the silent night that has already descended upon the city. He dismissed his manservants earlier, so it was only him in the dark corridors of Chen residence as he approached his wife’s study.
She, however, was not alone. In the quietness of her study, bent over record books, Jin Zhao was discussing something with Qing Pu in a low undertone. Their conversation was unintelligible, but Yan Yun wouldn’t have listened in even if he could hear properly – his wife’s business was hers alone and he learned years ago not to meddle unless invited. The curiosity was strong but not so much for the exact details of this late-night conversation as much as for how his wife’s mind worked, what information she processed and what schemes – small and big – she was cooking up for days to come. If there was a day when he no longer would be surprised by his wife ability to navigate a cut-throat business world with her usual smile and nonchalant attitude, with her willingness to apply her wit and connections to enrich lives of people around her – that day hasn’t come yet. Chen Yan Yun doubted it will.
The door to the study was opened, which usually meant to signify that no knocking was necessary. Chen Yan Yun walked in, sat down at the side table and helped himself to some tea. It was barely warm but still very pleasantly aromatic so Yan Yun didn’t mind the temperature, especially since he could pair his tea with osmanthus cakes that were everywhere in their house as both Jin Zhao and Yan Yun loved them dearly. As Yan Yun was pouring his second cup, Jin Zhao raised her head alerted to his presence by Qing Pu’s diplomatic cough. Jin Zhao’s face lit up like a lantern, with her rosy cheeks and vibrant smile, and she said ‘San Ye, give me few more moments, I’m almost done’. Yan Yun nodded and raised his cup to her – he was in no rush, really, and he would not be retiring to sleep without his wife anyway so he might as well wait.
His new position closer to her table allowed him a better vantage point to look at her – but also listen. Jin Zhao did not hush her tone after his approach, so he assumed he was privy to this discussion after all. Her instructions to Qing Pu circled around letters to be delivered to Gu Lan with instructions on merchant agreements for a fourth restaurant they were opening soon. Gu Lan turned out to be a skilled caretaker for restaurant business, and with support from her husband’s family, she proposed to expand the Linxia Studio to other locations in the capital and other big cities. The restaurant they were discussing these days was to be located in Yangquan province, where Mu Zhi Di was from, to give them a reason to visit his childhood home more often.
Chen Yan Yun was not sure how to classify the relationship his wife shared with her sister. They were trusted business partners, and Jin Zhao stopped auditing the record books a long time ago, only doing occasional checks upon Gu Lan’s request. They were good friends when discussions were centered around living in big powerful families or life in the capital in general – Yan Yun would sometimes catch them giggling about one thing or the other coming out from Linxia Studio after one of their tea parties. A few times, their new old friend Xue Qing Lan joined them for an outing, as long as there was some friendly competition involved! Having lived in the capital all her life under very privileged circumstances, Qing Lan provided the best commentary about the city's who-is-who. And though her aunt and uncle had met with a disastrous ruin, none of that shadow fell on her own head – Yan Yun and Jin Zhao had personally made sure of it.
While the Gu sisters saw eye to eye on the subject of their own father, who was long ago demoted and transferred to the rural provinces where nobody missed him one bit, things were different regarding their mothers. When it came to this subject, both walked on eggshells, with no expectations for reconciliation any time soon. Probably, not all wounds can be healed with time. Or, maybe, it takes much more time – Yan Yun simply didn’t know.
Gu De Zhao did make an attempt to come back to their life once Chen Yan Yun was appointed the highest office in the country, expecting himself to receive a better position in the capital as well. Jin Zhao quickly dispelled his ambitions with one strong conversation about how her husband is not going to give out any favors to relatives and would only seek to appoint his office on the basis of merit and aspirations. Jin Zhao just happened to – of course, completely accidentally – have this discussion in a very public spot and using her very public voice ensuring that this conversation became the hottest gossip topic all over the capital by the end of the day. Chen Yan Yun was sure someone made a record of this performance verbatim and shared it around in writing – otherwise, how else would he have gotten three separate reports from his network that matched it with such flawless precision? Regardless of the means of distribution, this public declaration effectively dismissed his father-in-law’s promotion schemes – as well as any other expectations of favors from numerous relatives and friends of the family they suddenly had from far and wide. It also won him a couple of political points with his colleagues coming up to him to discuss their staff appointments, considering him to be some paragon of unbiased virtue. Chen Yan Yun didn’t mind the notion, but it did add to his workload somewhat until all offices were properly staffed for reforms that were slowly unfolding in the country.
Chen Yan Yun tried to tell his wife that she should moderate her praise of him to the realistic level to which Jin Zhao deadpan replied ‘I am. If I were to tell it like it is, people would think you’re a deity, and I don’t want to seem blasphemous. There was something about humility and modesty in Four Books for Women and I’m trying to abide as best I can’. Chen Yan Yun did not try to tell his wife what to tell people about him anymore. After all, he lived this long because he was smart and tried not to make the same mistake twice.
Lost in the memory of his father-in-law's public (and brilliantly orchestrated) schooling, Yan Yun didn't realize how far his thoughts had drifted until the soft murmur of Jin Zhao’s voice across the room completely faded into a background hum. His mind’s wandering was suddenly interrupted by her turning directly toward him, pitching a question into the silence: ‘What do you think about it?’
Yan Yun’s mind raced trying to recover whatever conversation was playing in the background of his thoughts and which was apparently relevant to this question. Jin Zhao, feeling that pause may get uncomfortable for her usually collected and ever-knowing husband, mercifully reiterated her question in full ‘I’m thinking of expanding Secretariat Wives’ tea parties to include wives of senior officials. This way we will have more women from different walks of life, and I’d be able to gleam the mood in the middle level of power, as they are the ones who actually do a lot of things you, higher-ups, come up with. What do you think?’
Chen Yan Yun thought for few long moments as his wife never appreciated a simple ‘yes, dear’ and even less appreciated ‘no, dear’ responses. Jin Zhao expected a thought through answer that met the merit of the question. She was, after all, a wife of Grand Secretary and a formidable political power of her own – and a businesswoman who had no patience for half-baked opinions.
Yan Yun considered pros and cons of the proposal, while Jin Zhao waited patiently, with that comfortable smile she had just for him. Before he could get lost in that forever moment, Yan Yun said ‘I think it is a good idea in the long run. But, as with any good ideas, there would be those who would oppose it on principle. Because it would shift the balance of power since ‘tea party club’ has been very exclusive circle up till now. Because it would require all the noble ladies to rub shoulders with merchant ladies and military wives… But once you succeed, it would be eye-opening for them and, hopefully, for husbands as well. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.’ Jin Zhao tapped at her lower lip with one slender finger, her look pensive and calculative. Then she’d concluded ‘They have to survive my being a merchant daughter, few more won’t kill them. And you are right, it would help them to broaden their horizons, which is exactly what I’m aiming for!’. Jin Zhao clapped happily and turned to Qing Pu to rattle out more instructions that pertained to this idea taking shape. Chen Yan Yun had to admit he did not completely grasp ‘the woman’s way’ approach his wife usually took, but from what he could tell, Jin Zhao’s instructions were partially about tea party venue arrangements, and partially about influencing few noble wives to ‘come up with this idea on their own’ so that Jin Zhao then can then graciously champion their proposal and praise their brilliance and open-mindedness. If this works out, she had a very good chance to ensure her initiative had a successful start and smooth sailing and Chen Yan Yun made a mental note to figure out how to apply this tactic to his own court struggles. If he can’t figure it out – he’ll ask Jin Zhao.
Eventually, with few more candles burning out around her, his wife noticed the flow of time and with a determined nod closed all the books in front of her. Jin Zhao rose from her seat and stretched, swaying her body a little to activate stiffened muscles. Chen Yan Yun eyes fixed at that movement, suddenly acutely aware of one too many people being with them in the room. Jin Zhao noticed his keen interest and smiled – that knowing, feminine smile she’d uncovered soon after their wedding night. His wife knew for sure what her mere presence did to him, and when she deliberately added a bit of sensual movement to the mix, it was a kind of assault Chen Yan Yun had no defenses against. Nor would he want to have any defenses, not against her, not against this.
Jin Zhao dismissed Qing Pu and the girl basically dissolved into thin air – that or Chen Yan Yun’s side vision was starting to fail him as he completely missed the assistant walking out of the room with how focused he was on his wife. Yan Yun offered his lady a hand and led her to the bedchambers, comfortable in the silence that stretched between them. They always had many things to say to each other, but they didn’t have to rush. With their entire lives spanning ahead of them, they had time for conversations – and time for silence.
The room was dimply lit with few candles left burning by housemaids before they retired for the night. There was no routine to their nights, and they would sometimes require maids’ help for washing up or brushing hair or taking care of clothes – and sometimes it would be just them, serving each other in ways that were too private to share. Like tonight.
Here, in the quietness of their bedroom, Jin Zhao took off his outer robe, and he helped her do the same. After quickly washing up and changing into their nightware, Yan Yun led Jin Zhao to sit at the low chair in front of the mirror. His nimble fingers made a quick work of pins and decorations embedded in his wife’s hair and she sighed with relief when heavy wave of hair cascaded down her back. Yan Yun would almost feel sorry for the troubles her gorgeous hair gave his wife – if it weren’t for immense pleasure of tangling his fingers in the thick dark tresses and tugging her face towards him for a kiss. Luckily, his wife never seemed to mind this way of handling her, if her soft sigh and passionate response was anything to go by.
There was no satiation with her – not with one kiss, nor with the next one, or the one after that as they blended into continuous feeling of connection and hunger for more. Yet, even through the haze of desire, Yan Yun minded the awkward angle of her head, loath to let her neck grow stiff against the strain. So, he offered Jin Zhao a hand to guide her toward the bed. His wife moved gracefully, but a few steps short, her foot caught; she stumbled, gripping him tightly for support. Yan Yun gathered her close to steady that slight frame, whispering soothing words against the top of her head. Surprisingly, no worries crossed his mind then, and he knew for a fact that Jin Zhao wasn’t sick or even fatigued – she’d slept in today, and had her afternoon nap, and overall had an endurance of a trained soldier. Jin Zhao was, however, with a child. And her dizzy spells, and her irregular sleeping schedule, and her munching on osmanthus cakes at all times could all be attributed to this condition.
He knew all that because they’d been through this before, when Jin Zhao was pregnant with their first child, a daughter…
As Yan Yun held his half-asleep wife close in the shadows of the bedroom, his mind drifted back to the desk across the courtyard, where the dark ink of his waterfall painting was still drying. Looking into that imagined torrent, the current of his memory broke free, sweeping him backward into the most tumultuous, terrifying years of his life.
Their daughter was born eight months after Yan Yun saved Jin Zhao from Fu Hai Lian and it would always bring bone-deep chill to Chen Yan Yun to think that his wife – his beautiful, resilient, brave wife – had risked her life while new life was already growing inside of her. He never faulted her for recklessness because Yan Yun saw the devastation on her face when the doctor told them the great news and Jin Zhao paled at the memory of holding a poison vial and offering her life for his. She simply did not realize she was pregnant at the time, attributing the delay in her monthly cycle to the shocks and pains of that period of their lives. Jin Zhao mentioned that such delays had happened before – when she fell sick in her youth, when she lost her mother – so she wasn't yet alarmed and, honestly, paid little attention to such matters back then. All of these discoveries were followed by four weeks of agonizing wait before three different doctors confirmed that their child was developing as expected and all the stress endured at the early stages must’ve been taken on by the mother alone with none of it endangering the child. And that knowledge that his wife shielded their child with her strength while fighting to shield him too – if there was a bigger love, it was truly reserved for gods because no human man could ever love his woman as much as he loved Jin Zhao then – and even more every day since!
But that difficult – hopeful and terrifying at the same time – period did teach Yan Yun that he knew criminally little of the way a woman’s body worked and what he should be aware of so that Jin Zhao gets to live a long and healthy life. He called upon the most esteemed physicians of women's health in the country – yes, it was established that Chen Yan Yun was not above throwing his weight around when the situation called for it! – and requested the most advanced texts to be delivered to him. His tutors even carefully joked that with the way he was progressing with his ‘wifely studies’ he’d be able to replace them when the birthing hour came. For a while, Chen Yan Yun gained a weird kind of fame at the court with some people giving him snarky remarks and making commentary about his ‘manliness’ to be interested in such subjects. While Chen Yan Yun was perfectly fine ignoring these narrow-minded fools, his Emperor chose this moment to deign to interpose, making it very clear that he considered the education of any subject to be the root of virtue, and that taking care of one’s family, wife, and child was a sacred responsibility of a good man – and the empire needed good men above all! That effectively silenced all the negative gossip across the city and even brought a few expecting fathers seeking advice to the doorstep of Chen Yan Yun’s office. These were indeed unusual times!
Chen Yan Yun did not make it home in time for the delivery. He had been locked in a fiercely contentious debate over import taxes, and very few stewards dared to breach the imperial hall when the ministers were in such an uproar. It took his advisor, Jiang Yan, practically breaking into the room to deliver a dramatic whisper, warning the Grand Secretary of the Dayan Empire that he was needed at home ‘or else.’ There was only one person in the world who was both Yan Yun’s ultimate strength and his greatest weakness, and the all-powerful man shuddered to think what that ‘else’ might entail. Yet, no matter how frantically he hurried, he still arrived too late – ironically, because Jin Zhao’s labor had been so incredibly swift and uncomplicated that it caught even her doctors by surprise, given her history.
By the time Yan Yun showed up to the Chen residency in the early hours of the day, he was presented with a tiny swaddle of constantly moving limbs and a dissatisfied wrinkly face that announced baby’s discontent with the bright cold morning very resolutely. She was perfect, their daughter, just like her mother! They named her Chén Xīnyǐng, ‘a breath of fresh air’ for their family.
And now, almost two years later, they were getting ready to welcome a new child, a new hope. Jin Zhao insisted that it was her duty to deliver an heir to the Chen second branch and to San Ye’s great political legacy, so she now expected a son. Yan Yun was happy to be blessed with the child at all and secretly he’d always wanted a girl – someone as lively and as lovely as his wife. Or, maybe, not so secretly because Jin Zhao was absolutely confident it was him who willed their child’s gender into existence. No matter that different ladies in their social circle in one voice predicted that their first would be a girl – based on the shape of Jin Zhao’s belly, her eating habits, her ‘waning beauty’ (if you ask Yan Yun, that was a ridiculous notion as his wife never looked as mesmerizing as when she was carrying their child!) and other ‘completely confirmed signs’. No matter that, as per all the texts he’d read on the matter, the child’s gender was decided upon conception and was willed by gods – and did not change upon parents’ wishes. No matter all that, as soon as A-Ying came to this world screaming and kicking, Jin Zhao immediately announced that it was San Ye’s fault for making her look bad and disappointing her mother-in-law by not delivering the heir! Yan Yun couldn’t find it in his heart to be even a little disappointed and, considering their daughter was healthy and happy little bundle of unending energy, Jin Zhao quickly admitted that little A-Ying was truly a gift from gods and it was not upon her to argue such destiny. One day Yan Yun found his beloved ladies in a nursing room, Jin Zhao bent over a crib and kissing A-Ying little fingers while whispering ‘Don’t worry, precious one, your mommy and daddy will make sure you grow up with all the opportunities and rights a boy would have, and you would get to shape your own life the way you want. Your life will be a better one, I promise. And just so that it would not be lonely for you, your mommy and daddy will give you more siblings, brothers and sisters, and we will teach you to be smart and honorable, and to be a family, so you can support one another and be stronger together.’ And in the quietness of that nursery, Yan Yun silently repeated the same vows – to his wife, to his daughter and to all the future children they’d be blessed with.
It scared him sometimes, the all-consuming feeling of love he held for his new family, growing with every new addition. Chen Yan Yun, the infallible statesman who was primed as an example for conviction and devotion to the nation’s cause, was beginning to realize that there was indeed something he would not sacrifice even for his country. Or, rather, someone – and then multiple someones.
One night, when A-Ying was sated and tucked away for the night, Yan Yun shared this fear of wavering loyalty with his beloved – in the safety and tenderness of their marital bed, hoping that darkness around them will keep his secrets. And, as many times before and after that, Jin Zhao comforted him and promised to keep the light lit on his path. Little did he know, his wife did more than that – in ways big and small.
Like the calm, quiet undercurrent of the river in his painting, she had set her grand plans into motion long before the water ever smoothed out. Thinking back on it now, Yan Yun still tried to retrace her steps, searching his memories for the exact moment she had begun untangling the snares of their circumstance. It must have started around the time A-Ying was five months old, right when his life became immeasurably busier with his new appointment as Grand Secretary of the Hall of Central Extreme and Grand Preceptor of the Crown Prince. More and more often, he had to remain overnight at the Wenyuan Library. Even though the journey home was under half a shichen and he held a special token to override the city curfew, he would still arrive too late – long after his daughter had drifted off, and his wife lay fast asleep, exhausted from managing the vast Chen family estates. Yan Yun couldn’t bring himself to wake either one of them just for the happiness of their company – and yet it hurt him to realize that his life, his very own personal life, the one he fought so hard for was happening without him. He could see, standing there by the ornate rocking bed where his daughter slept, making little bubbles with her mouth opened in perfect O, how she was growing, how her hair was getting longer and changing color to what he hoped would be deep sandalwood with tresses of lighter amber, the same her mother had. Jin Zhao would leave him little notes about how their A-Ying was doing, how the household and their extended family faired, what occupied her days and thoughts. One of the notes he remembered in particular – it was about A-Ying eyes changing color from slate-grey she was born with to dark tea color – and he couldn’t even see them as his daughter was always asleep by the time he’d come back home! These notes, as precious as they were to him, hurt immensely. He felt like he was losing himself, Yan Yun, the husband and the father, to Chen Yan Yun, the Grand Secretary. His life grew lonely and aimless even surrounded by people and great deeds yet to be accomplished.
Capital city was bustling with life, more people moving in from trade cities to participate in tax reform discussion that were partially open to the public. Refugees from war torn northern territories who travelled as far as the capital in search of work and opportunities, were rebuilding their lives and growing the city. The life was happening all around the Imperial Palace and Wenyuan Library so it was no surprise to anyone when a new construction site appeared behind the walls of the governmental quarter. First the demolition of all unused guest house and then a new house designed for comfort and prestige yet dignified in its splendor. Yan Yun was secretly irritated at the prospect of yet another arrogant noble family moving close to lobby the court. Just what he needed on top of everything else!
His inquiries into new neighbors were answered quickly and surprisingly, when Chen Yan Yun was invited for the new house blessing ceremony where he was expected to… host! Jin Zhao just informed him in one of her overnight notes that tomorrow is the ceremony for their new property and the address is – yes, that big new house across the street from his office in Wenyuan Library. Never has Yan Yun been so tempted to shake his wife awake and ask for a little more information on the fact that his family was apparently moving houses and he was not aware of it at all! And yet he didn’t, to allow her to rest and him to cool down. And next day he dutifully attended his new house blessing ceremony, nodded along to his guests praise and barely-contained envy, toasted to well-wishers and shot lightnings from his eyes to all those daring to whisper about benefits of having a rich wife. It’s not that the house was that expensive, many noble families owned bigger and more opulent buildings in the city, but the speed with which it was completed told everyone that someone thrown quite a bit of extra money to get things done quickly. Turns out, that someone was his wife, Gu Jin Zhao!
Later, in the quietness of his new home, Yan Yun did ask – in a very practiced and measured tone – about what exactly possessed his rich wife to spend a small fortune (and more than he made in a year even as Grand Secretary) to build this house and move their newborn daughter to the street where every protest, and every funeral, and every wedding was marching daily! And Jin Zhao, in her infinite female grace and wisdom, completely ignored his very much not measured tone, as well as implication that she somehow was supposed to ask for parenting permission from the person who was parenting everybody in this nation (including the Emperor) but his own daughter and said ‘Well, San Ye, this solved the biggest household dilemma we had so far – you spending your life here and us waiting for you there! This way you can come home to us for lunch or supper or breakfast – even with how busy you are, you still eat, don’t you?’. Yan Yun averted his gaze to that question and Jin Zhao stepped forward, her voice becoming deceptively calm and gaining that dangerous undercurrent he learned to appreciate. She said ‘Because I happen to know that Grand Secretary has been skipping meals for the last month or so and it’s threatening to pull on his health. And we cannot afford this great disservice to the nation if he, gods forbid, succumbs to illness. If necessary, I’m willing to come before the Emperor and implore him to grant you leave of absence so I can nurse you back to health and back to your full potential!’. Yan Yun’s shoulders slumped at this fake threat wrapped in the real concern and care that her words carried. He was indeed bone-tired from in-city travel and missing out on his family. He did indeed appreciate how his wife took it upon herself to find the solution and absolved him of having to do anything on top of his daily duties. Yan Yun, upon closer inspection and a tour of his new home, also very much appreciated how thoughtful the layout and interior was – it bordered just on the right side of ‘expensive-but-not-in-your-face’, and the design spoke of duty and functionality for the office of the Grand Secretary of a great state. The house had an expansive study with a separate entrance, and a courtyard so not only would he be able to bring home his work but also invite his colleagues for continued discussions. There was a large room to entertain guests and few guest rooms for his friends to stay over. And, most importantly, the inner quarters where his family would reside, was separated from all of it, tucked away in the back of the house, overseeing exquisitely beautiful garden with a little playground for their growing child. There, stretched out on a sun-warmed stone bench, Baopu was found keeping a lazy, watchful eye over his new domain. The private side was different in colors and décor and even the flowers chosen for the vases – it truly felt like he was stepping into a different space even thought he was merely stepping over one threshold. This was a space for him to be just Yan Yun, and for them to be together.
Then and there Chen Yan Yun fully committed to finding a way to be more present with his family, to find a balance that his life needed to stay committed to that initial goal: ‘For people’s benefit, regardless of personal gain and loss’ – a motto now fixed atop the entrance to his study in this new home. His beloved, Jin Zhao, did promise to light his way, so that he wouldn’t lose his course, no matter his fears and his competing loyalty and love for his family.
This didn’t happen overnight… But after yet another threat to beseech the Emperor and the court to ‘allow the Grand Secretary time to come back to his husbandly duties’ (Yan Yun completely choked on his tea at that moment and very resolutely reminded Jin Zhao in oh-so-passionate details that he never neglected his husbandly duties!), things took a turn for the better. Chen Yan Yun would carve out time to take at least one meal with his family, and he would almost always come back home for the night to be met with tinkling laughter of his girls, dancing away in the garden to their hearts’ content. More and more often these images featured in his paintings, and his dreams, and his hopes. And now, with the impending arrival of yet another person to love, and to cherish, and to protect, Yan Yun felt truly blessed beyond measure. His path was the right one as it brought him here, to this place, to this family, to this happiness.
And though his wife threatened him that should their second child not be a son, they would have to try over and over and over again… Yan Yun felt really content with this plan. To love so much was no hardship for him. Truly.