Chapter Fifty: The Matron Always Thinks I Am Frail and Sickly

The shops on Zhengyang Avenue, not far from the Prime Minister’s residence, sold only the finest goods—top-tier pastries and wine, what people commonly called luxuries. Those who frequented the avenue were, of course, either wealthy or noble. Yet Song Ci did not go to Zhengyang Avenue—not because she could not afford it, but because she wished to glimpse the life of ordinary folk. She chose instead a street of middling status, one frequented by both the privileged and the common.

Chaoyang Avenue, the central axis of the eastern and western city, lay alongside the canal that traversed the urban heart. Its location was ideal: carriages and horses moved in endless streams, and pedestrians crowded the thoroughfare.

Song Ci gazed with admiration at the rows of shops lining the street, each vying for attention. Red walls and green tiles, elegant eaves and lofty pavilions, all painted in vibrant hues and carved with intricate designs. Banners and signs fluttered in the wind, and the flow of people resembled a woven tapestry.

Not far off, the exaggerated cries of vendors, carried on the breeze, mingled with the occasional neigh of horses and the laughter of passersby, composing a lively tableau.

Bustling and exuberant, with an ancient charm befitting a flourishing era.

Song Ci felt as if she were standing on a film set for a historical drama; yet the faces around her, dressed in period clothing and smiling with genuine joy, assured her these were no extras.

And the architecture before her was not some modern imitation, but true relics of antiquity.

None of this was a dream; she was indeed living in a world hundreds of years in the past.

“Grandmother, so many people!” Song Lingzhou stood at her side, curiosity sparkling in his eyes as he surveyed their surroundings.

Song Ci sighed. “Indeed. Such prosperity and peace—our times are blessed, and the Emperor is wise, his governance extraordinary.”

It is easy to found a dynasty, but hard to maintain it. The late Emperor had seized the throne, but reigned only eight years before perishing. At that time, the realm was still rife with chaos; the land needed healing, and the ruler had to secure the interior while warding off threats abroad—a daunting task.

When the current Emperor Chu ascended, he quelled unrest, initiated reforms, promoted commerce, and strengthened the nation through nearly twenty years of effort, bringing about the peace and happiness the people now enjoyed.

Today, the realm is wealthy and strong, the people live in harmony, enjoying peace; foreign nations pay tribute, and the Emperor’s achievements are unparalleled.

Of course, even this great era is not without its conflicts. Certain reforms are always opposed by stubborn traditionalists, and remnants of rebellious factions still clamor for revolution—troubles for those in power to contend with.

As for Song Ci, an old woman, it was enough to stroll the streets and amuse her grandson.

“Madam, would you like to hire a sedan chair?” Nurse Gong stepped forward and asked softly.

Song Ci’s heart sank, her good mood dampened. She replied in a low voice, “The joy of shopping lies in walking. What use have I for a sedan chair?”

Ah, nothing vexed her more than Nurse Gong’s constant assumption that she was frail and infirm.

“Exactly! If we take a sedan chair, we won’t be able to see all the treasures,” Song Lingzhou chimed in.

Song Ci pinched the little chubby hand of her grandson. “Let’s walk.”

“Yes, let’s walk.”

Seeing the elder and the child so spirited, Nurse Gong merely smiled, stepped back two paces, and instructed the coachman to park the carriage and await their return.

Song Ci glanced behind her. Her two granddaughters each carried a round fan, partially concealing their rosy faces. The maids and attendants surrounded them, shielding them from prying eyes. She said, “Let’s visit that Shangzhen Pavilion first and see if there are any fine things to be found.”

With her command, the maids and attendants gathered around, ushering them forward, while the guards followed at a respectful distance.