Cui Yun was stunned. She thought she had misheard, but Dou Ying repeated it, adding, “I find Zhang Dalao to be quite suitable.”
It took Cui Yun a long time to digest Dou Ying’s shocking words. She asked in bewilderment, “How on earth is he suitable?”
“He is bold yet meticulous, decisive in action, and slick in handling matters, yet he holds firm to his principles. He would not covet the Cui family’s estate, and he would even find ways to help you guard it. He does have his faults he can be somewhat cold-hearted, and in his eyes, you cannot tell if he has you in his heart. But on the positive side, he has no greed and is not easily swayed by beauty. I have known him for so long, and he has never even touched a camp follower. If you do not harbor the luxury of finding a lover who is entirely devoted to you, he is the best choice.”
As Cui Yun listened, a strange feeling stirred in her heart. She felt that when her sister spoke of Zhang Zhaoge’s cold-heartedness, there was a faint trace of desolation in her tone. The feeling was fleeting, gone before she could even grasp it.
“Sister, you—”
Dou Ying reached out and stroked Cui Yun’s cheek, her eyes deep and somber. “Seventh Miss, I hope your remaining years will be joyful, healthy, smooth, and worry-free. No matter what, I will help you.”
Cui Yun felt a sudden, sharp ache in her nose.
After the Eight Precepts Festival, the public’s focus gradually shifted from the excitement of the festival to the joy of welcoming the New Year. Cui Yun found a pretext to dismiss Mother Du back to Dengzhou. By now, Cui Yun’s control over Zhaoping Villa was absolute, and Mother Du had gradually lost ground in their power struggle, unable to defy her arrangements.
Once Mother Du was gone, Qingxi, Xilan, and the others joyfully began decorating the villa. Since this was the first New Year Cui Yun had spent after finishing her mourning period, it had to be filled with the festive atmosphere of the season. They bought New Year goods, taofu (door talismans), and various paper-cutouts of flowers and birds to paste on the windows.
Beyond Zhaoping Villa and the village, even the garrison camp had gained a hint of the New Year. Soldiers unable to return home used paper cutouts to decorate their living quarters, eagerly awaiting their holiday rewards. Because of the Huaixi spy incident, Envoy Jia ordered patrols to be strengthened around the New Year, which led to the military drills originally scheduled for New Year’s Day being brought forward.
The drills were held on the training grounds, testing the soldiers’ formation integrity under combat commands, their adherence to orders, combat effectiveness, and adaptability, as well as the military talent of the commanders themselves. The earlier portions of the drills, involving troop deployment, were not open to the public; however, the portion testing the commanders’ martial arts skills did not require such strict secrecy, allowing the commoners to gather nearby to watch. To them, this was one of the rare forms of “entertainment” available throughout the year.
Cui Yun and Dou Ying also went to join in the excitement. By the time they reached the perimeter, the villagers were already in heated discussion; news had spread that the battalion led by Zhang Zhaoge had won the overall championship, meaning the final match between the three commanders would determine the ultimate victor of the drills.
The commanders’ match consisted of several parts: first, the proficiency in utilizing military and command flags; second, mounted archery. While these two could be seen as showing off, the third part the challenge was a true martial arts confrontation with real blades and spears. Among the three vice-commanders, Zhang Zhaoge had the most slender build, so the judge representing Envoy Jia did not favor her.
However, once the match began, Zhang Zhaoge’s build became her advantage; relying on her lithe and agile posture, she dodged the pincer attack of the two vice-commanders multiple times. Several times, the onlookers thought she was about to fall from her horse, only to see her blink back into the saddle as if nothing had happened. The villagers were enthralled, and Cui Yun and Dou Ying were so infected by the atmosphere that their hearts hammered against their ribs. It was only when Zhang Zhaoge used the ji (halberd) meant for cavalry to strike both vice-commanders off their horses that the victory was decided.
“Good!” the judge roared, and the villagers cheered. Cui Yun and Dou Ying secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Zhang Zhaoge and her soldiers had won the grand championship, receiving a reward of 30,000 copper coins and 300 dan of millet. Zhang Zhaoge personally received an extra reward from the judge: five sheep. She handed four of them to her squad leaders, telling them to slaughter them on New Year’s Eve to supplement the soldiers’ meals, and the remaining one was sent to Zhaoping Villa. Since Dou Ying had invited her to have New Year’s Eve dinner, she could not arrive empty-handed; the sheep served as her holiday gift.
She had already planned how to prepare the sheep: “Keep it alive until New Year’s Eve. We’ll roast the ribs, stew the brain into soup, braise the brisket, and have a hot pot with the rest.”
Cui Yun remarked that she was a real foodie.
Dou Ying added, “Although Dalao is not well-versed in literature, her culinary skills are truly exceptional. Especially this lamb; after she prepares it, there isn’t even a hint of the ‘gamey’ smell.”
Zhang Zhaoge: “…” Did she just get praised, or did she? And does being unversed in literature have anything to do with cooking skills?
“That is truly something to look forward to.” A faint, shimmering light appeared in Cui Yun’s eyes. Zhang Zhaoge swallowed the words that would have dampened the mood.
At noon on New Year’s Eve, after visiting the soldiers at the camp, Zhang Zhaoge arrived at Zhaoping Villa. Since it was the eve of the New Year, she specifically changed into new clothes and brought along the seasonings she needed for the lamb.
“Happy New Year!” Zhang Zhaoge shouted out of habit as soon as she entered.
Cui Yun and Dou Ying were stunned. After a long moment, Dou Ying covered her mouth and laughed, “Dalao, may your fortune be renewed, and may your life and longevity be extended.”
Zhang Zhaoge’s toes curled in embarrassment. Finished. I’ve exposed my lack of common sense in front of others again. She mimicked Dou Ying, repeating the blessing she had never heard before. Cui Yun did not seem to take the minor mishap to heart. She looked at what Zhang Zhaoge was carrying, curious: “What did Deputy General Zhang bring over?”
“The seasonings that will be used when we eat the lamb later.”
Zhang Zhaoge wasn’t worried about being exposed, as many of these seasonings could be found in this era. For example, cumin and black pepper had already been introduced to the Central Plains via the Silk Road, though they were precious spices; the bag she held could likely be traded for ten thousand coins in Chang’an. The former Prime Minister, Yuan Zai, was executed for corruption, and the Emperor had confiscated eight hundred dan of black pepper from his home. It was said that “an ounce of pepper is worth an ounce of gold,” which, while an exaggeration, showed just how expensive these spices were.
If one asked how Zhang Zhaoge came to possess such expensive spices? As a military officer, having fought many battles in Huaixi, it was perfectly normal to have acquired some war booty. Thus, Cui Yun and Dou Ying harbored no suspicions, merely marveling that she would be so extravagant with a single sheep. In a way, she was even more of a spendthrift than Wang Hecheng.
The servants of the Cui household had already slaughtered the sheep and processed each part according to Zhang Zhaoge’s instructions. Zhang Zhaoge rolled up her sleeves, first marinating the lamb ribs, then taking a ceramic bowl to place the lamb brains and medicinal herbs inside, steaming them in a zeng (steamer)…
Many kitchen tools (like iron woks or clay pots) and ingredients (like chili peppers or onions) did not exist yet, so Zhang Zhaoge could only make do. As the lamb ribs were placed on the charcoal grill, waves of aroma began to permeate the air. Even Cui Yun, who usually did not prioritize food, could not help but quietly swallow her saliva.
Zhang Zhaoge left Qingxi in charge of the heat and went to the front hall to rest. After taking a sip of the wine Dou Ying had warmed and handed to her, Zhang Zhaoge felt a warmth spread through her entire body.
Dou Ying spoke up suddenly: “Dalao will be twenty-four after the New Year, will you not? Have you ever thought about your lifelong affairs?”
Zhang Zhaoge nearly spat out her hot wine. It’s here—the inevitable process of the New Year: being urged to marry. But she never dreamed it would be Dou Ying fulfilling the role of the busybody matchmaker.