“Me?” Yuan Niang was taken aback, pointing at herself in disbelief.
The maid with Xiang Yun Yin Hua Dian hairpins on both sides of her bun, however, nodded with an unchanged expression. Though she appeared to be only eighteen or nineteen, her composure and maturity resembled that of an old palace matron, with not a trace of surprise visible on her face.
Even the maids of wealthy households were extraordinary, their dignified and steady demeanor far surpassing that of daughters from minor official families.
If even the maids were so stern and formidable, one could only imagine what the wife of Councillor Wei must be like.
The mere thought of it made one feel a sense of dread.
But in this situation, hiding was not an option. With no elders from her family present, and Xu Chenger beside her—though a year older—only watching her with a worried expression, Yuan Niang felt a surge of courage from somewhere deep within, as if possessed by a divine spirit, enabling her to face the situation without a hint of timidity.
She first gave Xu Chenger a reassuring look, then raised her head and met the maid’s gaze.
Yuan Niang forced a bright, charming smile, her beauty both innocent and captivating. “Please, elder sister, lead the way.”
A flicker of surprise appeared in the maid’s eyes but vanished in an instant, her expression returning to its composed and mature state. As the maid turned to lead the way, she didn’t even need to lift a hand—the door curtain was lifted by someone standing guard, every movement executed without the slightest sound.
This alone demonstrated how strictly the rules were observed.
Chen Yuanniang had never witnessed such grandeur before. The most imposing figure she had encountered was the matron sent by the Wei Family to break off her childhood engagement.
Recalling that past event, she became even more determined not to lose face. Suppressing her fear, she summoned a surge of boldness, walking with deliberate steps to keep her legs from trembling.
Though it wasn’t an especially remarkable feat, she was unaware that Xu Chenger’s uncle and aunt-in-law, who knew the identity of the noble guest, were trembling with fear. As ordinary commoners, Yuan Niang, still a young maiden in her early teens, stood out like flawless jade against the backdrop of their unease.
At the very least, everyone has an appreciation for beauty. The wife of Councillor Wei, resting on the couch, caught sight of such a lovely and spirited young lady at first glance and felt a twinge of fondness.
This also seemed to ease the throbbing pain in her head slightly. She waved her slender, jade-like fingers and said, “Come a little closer.”
As soon as Yuan Niang entered, she caught a glimpse of the noble lady’s true appearance. She was undeniably dignified and elegant, yet different from the imposing figure she had imagined. This was an exceptionally fair and refined woman, wearing only a simple, low Yuan Bao Guan adorned with white flowers on a green jade base. Compared to her surroundings, she seemed isolated, as if painted in ink wash.
Chen Yuanniang found it difficult to describe this feeling clearly. With just one glance, one could sense her serene, water-like calmness, certain that she was well-read, gentle yet aloof and unattainable.
But one thing was absolutely certain.
That was…
Beauty!
Like the most languid and composed figure in a Shi Nu Tu.
Yuan Niang was momentarily entranced.
It wasn’t until the beautiful woman spoke that Yuan Niang’s thoughts were stirred.
“Is that object in your hand something for Li Mao to sleep on?”
Chen Yuanniang snapped back to reality, nodding like a chick pecking at rice. “Yes, it’s made from my old clothes, sewn by my Mother herself.”
She was talking a bit too much. When nervous, people tend to speak more, wanting to say everything. If a foolish person acted this way, it would inevitably be annoying. But Yuan Niang was blessed with a beautiful appearance, and when speaking, she didn’t tremble like a sieve. Instead, her words were clear and her voice bright. Thus, that bit of nervousness wasn’t a flaw but rather made people feel some goodwill toward her. After all, no one likes those who are slick and cunning from a young age.
At least, this was true for Councillor Wei’s wife. She was noble and pure, loved reading, despised filthy fools, and adored those uniquely gifted and endowed with natural grace.
Councillor Wei’s wife gave a glance to the maid waiting beside her. The maid took a plate of dried fruit from the food box held by a young servant girl and respectfully placed it on the small table beside the couch.
Councillor Wei’s wife grabbed a handful of dried fruit, called Yuan Niang forward, and placed it in her palm.
“Don’t be nervous.”
Her voice was pleasant, her person beautiful, and her words so gentle. Yuan Niang felt Councillor Wei’s wife was like a noble lady from storytellers’ tales, embodying the virtues of all women.
“Not, not nervous.” Claiming not to be nervous, yet stammering—Yuan Niang realized this and immediately flushed red.
Councillor Wei’s wife, however, chuckled softly, and her originally pale face due to discomfort showed a hint of vitality.
But she didn’t speak much more with a commoner’s young lady, directly asking: “The circular depression on top is quite unique. I have many items for various Li Mao in my residence, but I haven’t seen one like this. What is its purpose?”
Ah, it matched!
Yuan Niang remembered Xu Chenger telling her that Councillor Wei’s wife greatly adored Li Mao and even built a garden to keep them. Likely, she was called inside only because she heard Yuan Niang mention something related to cats outside the door, and that old woman marveled at its uniqueness, so she casually summoned her.
Knowing the reason, Yuan Niang’s nervousness diminished further.
She tried to restrain her fear of those in high positions, gently holding her breath. “It was my younger brother’s idea. Cats often curl up when sleeping, so sewing it this way best fits their posture. However, my younger brother went out today and likely cannot come to explain for you, madam.”
Councillor Wei’s wife suddenly understood and smiled. “Such clever thinking. Why call your younger brother? Instead, leave this item here. I’ll have the seamstress in my residence sew a copy, then return it.”
She smiled warmly, yet her eyes held no reflection of Yuan Niang. Her words didn’t seek Yuan Niang’s opinion at all, directly stating: “I won’t take it from you without compensation. Hua Mei, give her some reward money.”
The maid who had earlier called Yuan Niang inside stood with her hands folded and hidden in sleeves, head bowed beside them, like a motionless exquisite candlestick.
Even a single silver hairpin on her hair bun could cover most of a common family’s expenses for half a year. Outsiders might see her as quite splendid, yet she bore a bird’s name.
Only when Councillor Wei’s wife called did she move, like a Kui Lei controlled by Sheng Si in a Wazi.
Hua Mei’s posture and movements were elegant but silent, handing Yuan Niang a Zhu Hong Cai Xian He Bao with a Xique Deng Zhi pattern. Its style looked quite lovely, but the stitching was ordinary, likely hastily made—probably many such He Bao were prepared specifically for rewarding people.
Yet even such He Bao made for rewards weren’t something one could casually buy on the street outside, because the material felt very smooth, not of ordinary quality.
Although Yuan Niang had been in Bianjing for some time, and Granny Wang had already taken her to make two sets of clothes, she had only recently left the countryside and had never personally handled such a beautiful He Bao. Holding it in her hand, she couldn’t help but lower her head to look at it, but she also knew her limits and did not eagerly open it like a crude commoner.
Madam Hui and her husband, who were waiting nearby and dared not even breathe loudly, couldn’t help but grow anxious at the sight.
Madam Hui forced a smile, looked at Yuan Niang, and spoke urgently: “Why don’t you quickly thank Canzheng Niangzi for her great kindness!”
Yuan Niang snapped back to attention. Granny Wang hadn’t taught her how a woman should bow. In storytellers’ tales, commoners encountering princes and nobles would always “plop” down and kneel to kowtow, but Grandma was there at that time and couldn’t help but scoff, telling her that those were just the delusions of sour people who had never seen princes and didn’t know etiquette.
Not to mention princes and nobles, even in Bianjing, when commoners encountered the Imperial Family, there was no rule that everyone must kneel and bow.
But this clearly didn’t allow Yuan Niang to think for too long. She had seen very few formal gestures, so with a bold heart, she simply clenched her right fist, wrapped her left hand around it, and bowed to Councillor Wei’s wife.
“Thank you for Canzheng Niangzi’s reward!”
After she finished bowing and speaking, there was no anticipated awkward scene, but she seemed to hear laughter?
Yuan Niang quietly raised her head a little and saw Councillor Wei’s wife unable to hold back her amusement, as if finding it very interesting, while the attendant maid beside her, sensing her superior’s mood, also chuckled softly.
“It turns out she’s not a young lady, but a young lad.” The attendant maid beside Councillor Wei’s wife teased Yuan Niang, causing Councillor Wei’s wife to giggle repeatedly, pointing at the maid and scolding her as “mischievous.”
Chen Yuanniang had merely received less upbringing, but she was clever and quick-witted, immediately realizing what had happened.
Her bow earlier was based on the gesture she remembered from when constables met village chiefs—a desperate attempt, but at least it expressed respect. However, both of them were men, and when paired with what the attendant maid said, she naturally understood that likely men and women had different ways of bowing, and this bowing posture belonged to men.
Yuanniang’s thoughts shifted, and she somehow found a clever idea, pretending to be timid with confused eyes, “Is this way of bowing wrong? I just came from the countryside to Bianjing a few days ago and have never seen such a great noble as Canzheng Niangzi…”
Though she was uneasy, her words were sincere, and she spoke fluently. Such unadorned honesty was hard to dislike.
Any sensible person of higher status was not one who would impulsively act violently or nitpick every sentence. Yuanniang’s words happened to fall within the scope of Canzheng Niangzi’s tolerance, so Councillor Wei’s wife not only didn’t mind but even gently comforted her, “What’s this? No one is born knowing etiquette. Staying in such a good place like Bianjing for long, you’ll surely learn.”
After speaking, Councillor Wei’s wife glanced aside, and Hua Mei rewarded Yuanniang again.
Councillor Wei’s wife only said it was a reward for her to learn proper etiquette ahead of time.
After amusing herself with this lively young lady, Councillor Wei’s wife soon showed some fatigue, and naturally a maid led Yuanniang out. From start to finish, she didn’t need to say another word.
After stepping outside the curtain and meeting Xu Chenger’s gaze, Chen Yuanniang finally heard her own pounding heartbeat. The wife of the Vice Councilor of State Affairs—she had just met such a great noble. Yuanniang felt she couldn’t even regain her composure, her limbs somewhat weak.
Although she was still young, Yuan Niang vaguely understood the feeling of being separated by a lifetime that Grandma spoke of.
When Yuan Niang returned beside Xu Chenger, she remained dazed for quite some time. Xu Chenger gave her many meaningful glances but received no response, so worriedly grasped Yuan Niang’s hand, which finally brought Yuan Niang back to awareness.
The two quietly communicated through lip movements, afraid to make too much noise.
Yuan Niang dared not leave, nor dared to open the pouch in front of others to see what had been bestowed. Only after another half hour, when Councillor Wei’s wife seemed to have recovered, surrounded by a large crowd of maidservants and servants following behind, she boarded the Zhu Lun Ma Che. On both sides of the carriage stood rows of maidservants, and they departed from the place in a grand procession.
After the noble lady left, everyone at Xu Family Medical Shop visibly relaxed, relieved as if a heavy burden had been lifted.
Madam Hui feared Yuan Niang was too young and inexperienced; if she were frightened into a bad state, it would be unfortunate. She hurriedly came to check if Yuan Niang was alright.
Madam Hui had even prepared: if Yuan Niang were truly frightened, at least she ran a medical shop and could immediately administer some calming medicine. However, the pure gold jewelry used as a medicinal catalyst for boiling water was stored deep in her chest; retrieving it would require some effort.
But Yuan Niang was much stronger than she imagined. The young girl from the countryside was not suddenly frightened into panic. When Madam Hui called her, Yuan Niang merely paused briefly, quickly regained her senses, and even shamefully lowered her head, asking Madam Hui if she had caused trouble for them.
Such an obedient and beautiful young girl, speaking pitifully, made Madam Hui even more distressed. She touched Yuan Niang’s face, “Good child, how could you? Canzheng Niangzi seemed quite fond of you. You came here because you cared about our Cheng’er; it’s us who have caused you to be frightened.”
“Are your family members all at home? I’ll escort you back.”
Although Councillor Wei’s wife did not become angry or blame them, everyone knew how tremblingly cautious one must be before nobility, fearing offense. Therefore, regardless, Madam Hui had to express apologies to the Chen family. Being neighbors, it would be bad if negligence led to resentment.
Yuan Niang seemed to sense Madam Hui’s apology. She was not someone who didn’t know gratitude; since moving here, Madam Hui’s family had shown them much care. How could she bite back?
Thus, Yuan Niang shook her head in refusal, “No need, Auntie, don’t worry. I’m perfectly fine. Just now, the noble lady even gave me a reward. I was so delighted…”
“…very much.”
She stopped halfway because Yuan Niang was speaking while opening the pouch. Inside was a Fu Shou Hu Lu about half the size of a finger, made of pure silver.
This silver Fu Shou Hu Lu weighed at least one liang. According to official prices, one liang of silver equals one guan.
Two pouches meant two guan.
Yuan Niang stared blankly at the silver gourd in her palm, her hands feeling as if holding a thousand weights, stunned and unable to regain awareness.
This was a “huge sum”!
If her earlier words were meant to comfort Madam Hui, then after seeing the silver gourd, the final word “very much” was truly sincere, as if witnessed by heaven and earth.
Her unbecoming appearance made Madam Hui laugh. Indeed, she was still young, had never handled money, and instantly became immobilized.
But Madam Hui thus felt reassured, thinking Yuan Niang would not have nightmares.
With two heavy silver Fu Shou Hu Lu weighing her down!
Children are better, pure-hearted. When there are more important matters, they won’t fantasize.
As for jealousy?
Ah, that would be far too low an estimation of Madam Hui’s discernment.
Not to mention that the noble lady had rewarded her this time, even her husband’s consultation fee was not lacking—why would she risk her conscience over a mere two guan? She was nothing like those two money-grubbing fools from the second branch!
With this thought, Madam Hui tilted her head and shot a sharp glance at the second branch couple, who had been helped to a corner to rest like lumps of mud. Their eyes had long since turned toward Yuan Niang’s palm, their expressions a picture of bitter regret.
Those two were the type to pluck feathers from a passing goose, counting every penny. They would likely toss and turn at night, agonizing over today’s events.
The more Madam Hui thought about it, the brighter her mood grew.
In the end, it was Madam Hui who escorted Yuan Niang home, explaining the whole story clearly to Madam Cen, who was at home, and even presenting a basket of eggs. These were no ordinary eggs—they were a hen’s first clutch, smaller than usual but far more nourishing.
Such eggs were hard to come by in the market; they had been sent by Madam Hui’s maternal family, along with some mountain goods.
Madam Cen was too embarrassed to accept them, but her gentle nature made it impossible to refuse Madam Hui’s insistence. She finally took them, planning to discuss with Granny Wang later what gift to return.
After seeing Madam Hui off, Madam Cen could no longer maintain her composure. She pulled Yuan Niang into a tight, desperate embrace.
Though Madam Cen appeared sallow and frail, she had helped with farm work for several years and had considerable strength in her arms. She held Yuan Niang so tightly there was no room to breathe.
But Yuan Niang did not struggle to break free, because she felt… something damp on her neck.
“You foolish child, you foolish child…”
Madam Cen’s words dissolved into fragments, filled only with endless fear and worry. “Those noble people are capricious—one moment they favor you, the next they turn on you without a shred of mercy. They have always been…”
Yuan Niang listened, growing increasingly puzzled. The first part was clearly about her, but the latter part didn’t seem quite right.
She didn’t know that Madam Cen had been stirred by the terror of the days when her husband was imprisoned and charged. With her husband in jail, people would barge into their home at any time for questioning. Once-respected official families could be trampled upon in an instant, living in constant fear.
Yuan Niang could only attribute Madam Cen’s unusual behavior to worry over her. Gently patting her mother’s shoulder, she repeated her reassurance patiently, “Mother, I’m fine. Mother, I’m perfectly alright…”
It took a long while before Madam Cen secretly wiped her tears, half-covering her face with a handkerchief, her voice muffled. “I was too frantic. Did I frighten you?”
Once her emotions settled, Madam Cen returned to her usual gentleness. She stroked Yuan Niang’s face, her eyes full of tenderness. “Fortunately, we still have some Dingjing Fu at home. I’ll burn it in a moment, and you must drink three sips. After that, don’t speak carelessly—stay quiet and calm, understand?”
Though she had been a little frightened at first, Canzheng Niangzi had not made things difficult for her, maintaining a polite yet distant kindness. Yuan Niang felt there was no need to drink the charm water, but seeing her mother’s reddened eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse. She simply nodded obediently.
Yuan Niang was quite pragmatic about it—children should listen to their elders, and it wasn’t as if it would do any harm.
While Cen Niang went inside to fetch the talisman, Yuan Niang crouched down to play with Xiao Hua. Poor Xiao Hua, having just arrived home on its first day, already encountered trouble. Yuan Niang stroked it from head to tail, making Xiao Hua purr contentedly. “Xiao Hua, Xiao Hua, you’re the best Little Tabby Cat! I really like you! Shall I buy you cat food tonight?”
Xiao Hua responded with a soft “meow~ meow~”
Yuan Niang happily picked up Xiao Hua and vigorously rubbed its snow-white, soft belly. Xiao Hua had already gotten familiar with Yuan Niang earlier and didn’t resist now, curling its paws and letting her pamper it.
If rubbed too hard accidentally, it would perk up its ears and “meow” once.
Unable to resist, Yuan Niang secretly kissed Xiao Hua’s little forehead, just as Cen Niang, holding the talisman and Huo Zhe Zi, happened to see it.
Cen Niang grew anxious, “Child, how can you hold the cat? It hasn’t been washed with Ai Cao Tang yet. Be careful of lice crawling onto you, then you’ll suffer.”
Yuan Niang sheepishly let go. She didn’t mean to, she just couldn’t resist. The cat was born so adorable and pitiful, and it loved to come close and sniff, twitching its nose—who could resist not petting it?
Actually, Xiao Hua could be washed with Ai Cao Tang now. Granny Wang had already bought Ai Cao from Xiangguo Temple earlier, along with a Xiao Bi Zi specifically for cats, precisely to remove lice after bringing it home.
Granny Wang always handled things thoroughly.
The reason for not washing it yet was because it wasn’t the hottest time of the day yet. As the weather gradually turned colder, they feared washing might cause illness. By midday, when warm sunlight filled the entire courtyard, washing then would ensure neither people nor cats feared catching a chill.
After putting down the cat, Cen Niang said nothing more. She was an extremely gentle person, naturally so, unwilling to embarrass her daughter and disliking incessant criticism.
Cen Niang went to fetch a pot of hot water. She lit the talisman with Huo Zhe Zi, placing it in a bowl just before it burned out. When the talisman was completely charred, leaving only a flame, she suddenly poured hot water into the bowl.
Yuan Niang had drunk this before—it had to be consumed while hot, not blown on, not complained about being scalding, but one could sip just a tiny bit.
After sipping three times, Cen Niang took the bowl, dipped her finger in the talisman water, and dabbed three times on Yuan Niang’s forehead and hands, chanting while doing so: “Sheng Gong bless, San Hun descend early, Qi Po return, expel misfortune and evil, child safe…”
After chanting, the remaining water mixed with talisman ashes was flung high into the crevice behind the door by Cen Niang.
Though Yuan Niang felt it unnecessary, after Cen Niang performed it so solemnly, she inexplicably felt her face somewhat warm. Touching it, it indeed seemed a bit scalding.
Could this talisman water really work?
Clearly, it couldn’t.
At least after Granny Wang returned and directly confiscated both silver Fu Shou Hu Lu, it was completely ineffective. Yuan Niang felt heartache like a knife twisting, her San Hun Qi Po wishing to fly away instantly to protest.
She had prepared for one being confiscated, even two wouldn’t be unacceptable—at least there would be extra money given.
At least…
At least! There should be five hundred wen, or even one hundred wen would be fine!
Her dream of becoming the richest child in San Ji Di Alley shattered.
Hand-washing Crab gone, crispy roasted pork skin gone, Preserved Fruit gone—she had wanted to treat Xu Chenger to delicious food, but that vanished too.
Seeing Yuan Niang looking sullen, Granny Wang’s expression remained rather stern. “Listen to me and you won’t go wrong. Are the rewards from nobles so easily taken? From now on, when you see them, stay as far away as possible. Remember that?”
Yuan Niang hung her head dejectedly, mumbling, “Mm.”
Madam Cen was still unaware of the Wei Family’s current status, but Chen Kuo Cang had long harbored suspicions. Observing Granny Wang’s unusual behavior, he finally pieced it all together. Today had unexpectedly revealed two matters to him at once. Chen Kuo Cang lowered his head in silent contemplation, and when he raised it again, his expression showed no trace of surprise, as if he knew nothing at all.
He walked up to Yuan Niang, showing just the right amount of concern, looking as if he was deliberately puzzled but actually playing the role of a precocious younger brother offering a ladder to Grandma and his elder sister.
“Sister, the sun is really strong now. Aren’t you going to wash Xiao Hua with Ai Cao Tang?”
“!!!”
Yuan Niang suddenly raised her head, eyes wide, and slapped her forehead. “Oh no! The Ai Cao is still boiling in the pot!”
It had been boiling for a long time, and Yuan Niang was afraid the liquid would dry up.
She still wanted to sleep with Xiao Hua at night.
Fortunately, the Tie Guo was covered with a wooden lid, so the liquid wasn’t so easy to dry up. There was still more than half a pot, and adding cold water was just right.
Golden sunlight spilled into the courtyard. In a Wooden basin as big as a water bucket, dark green liquid was filled, with a few Ai Cao leaves swirling on top. Yuan Niang sat on a bamboo stool, sleeves all tied up with armbands, grabbing the struggling kitten and trying to put it into the Wooden basin.
Although it was a bit wet, it could still be seen that its fur was bristling, its tail tucked tightly under its butt, claws firmly gripping the edge of the Wooden basin trying to escape.
Even with the combined efforts of Yuan Niang and Chen Kuocang, they couldn’t control it. Luckily, it didn’t deliberately scratch people, otherwise this household would have welcomed two new striped cats. But Chen Kuocang was accidentally scratched on the hand, leaving two bloody pits on his fingers.
It was unclear how they managed to restrain the kitten, but in their flustered state, the kitten broke free from their grasp and jumped away.
Just as Yuan Niang thought she would have to chase the cat all over the courtyard, Grandma descended from above, holding the skin above the kitten’s neck, instantly making it unable to move, because the mother cat usually carried it like that.
Grandma was quite disdainful of them. “Get away!”
After driving away the two useless ones, Granny Wang sat on the bamboo stool before the Wooden basin, handling it with ease, effortlessly washing the kitten with Ai Cao Tang. The whole cat was drenched wet, unable to struggle, mostly just kicking its legs. It was unclear how Granny Wang managed this.
Chen Yuanniang and Chen Kuocang watched dumbfounded from the side.
Was this the power of elders?
Yuan Niang stared at Granny Wang’s cracked, rough, fan-like big hands, then looked at her own hands. Although there were some thin calluses from farm work, they were still very white, with evenly proportioned joints, appearing extremely weak in comparison.
Perhaps, when her hands became like Grandma’s, she could be this powerful too?
But that would take a long time.
And… it would be painful…
Growing up in the countryside, she naturally knew how much work and injuries were needed for hands to become like that.
Suddenly, Yuan Niang felt she wasn’t upset anymore.
Actually, the ten-cent gourd soup was delicious enough. In the past, she couldn’t even eat it when she wanted, only able to inhale deeply when passing by roadside inns, imagining what the aroma would taste like.
The money taken from Xiangguo Temple last time still had thirty cents left, and when buying Hand-washing Crab to entertain Cheng’er, thirty cents remained as well. Previously on the road, she had saved fifteen cents. Although yesterday she couldn’t resist temptation and secretly bought some malt candy for five cents in the evening, altogether there were still seventy cents left.
This money could order two bowls of gourd soup and still have leftovers. She could order another eight-cent fake fried meat, plus a pot of osmanthus Shushui. As the weather gradually cooled, drinking some boiled Shushui would warm her up.
If Shushui was just a bowl, it would naturally be cheap. But if it was a whole pot of osmanthus Shushui, drinking it at a roadside inn would probably cost around twenty cents.
That would be forty-eight coins, and on the way back she could buy two coins worth of malt candy to share with Xi Lang. Calculating it this way, she could still have twenty coins left!
It wasn’t as tight as she had imagined.
Yuan Niang quickly cheered herself up, abandoning her earlier slight awkwardness, and moved closer to Granny Wang, showering her with praise.
“Grandma, you’re so amazing!”
“I couldn’t get it wet at all earlier—how did you do it? Even the fur floated on the water’s surface.”
…
In Yuan Niang’s words, even raising a hand would earn praise for a long time.
Granny Wang knew exactly how clever and persuasive her granddaughter was, with a mouth as sweet as honey. Though she pretended annoyance on her face, she felt somewhat pleased inwardly, and wondered if she had been too stern earlier. After all, children are easily distracted; if she took everything away today, Yuan Niang might dwell on it, so perhaps comforting her was better.
While pondering this, the efficient Granny Wang had already washed the kitten clean, lifting it up trembling in the breeze.
Granny Wang immediately wrapped the kitten up and carefully wiped it dry, but wiping alone couldn’t dry it completely. Yuan Niang, watching the kitten shiver beside her, grew anxious and racked her brains: “Should I start a fire? Holding Xiao Hua near the fire should keep her warm.”
Chen Kuocang, however, didn’t think this was a good idea, his young face grave. “But she won’t stay still obediently—what if her fur gets singed?”
Seeing them discuss it so seriously, Granny Wang nearly laughed in exasperation—she was truly speechless.
She tossed the wrapped kitten into Yuan Niang’s arms, ignoring Yuan Niang’s clumsy handling, and went to the Zao to fetch leftover charcoal from the burnt wood into a fire basket she had already dug out.
The fire basket had an outer bamboo weave, with an earthen basin inside to isolate the charcoal fire. The bamboo weave on top was perforated, allowing warmth to flow out, and there was a handle on top for easy carrying. If one had to compare, its shape and size resembled a teapot somewhat.
When Granny Wang returned, Yuan Niang was already in a frantic state, holding the kitten in an awkward posture that was precarious, with signs that the kitten might slip away at any moment.
Granny Wang simply grabbed the kitten and placed it beside the fire basket. Warm waves of heat washed over it as she wiped its damp fur.
It was strange—tasks that Yuan Niang and Xi Lang couldn’t manage fell effortlessly into Granny Wang’s hands, and soon the kitten’s fur was nearly dry.
Granny Wang then instructed Yuan Niang to fetch the comb from inside the house. Yuan Niang listened and dashed off, soon returning with “thump-thump-thump” footsteps. Handing the comb to Grandma, Yuan Niang thought, running errands was simpler—it really was best to follow Grandma’s orders.
The rest was straightforward: holding the kitten near the fire basket to warm it, carefully combing its fur with the comb. Any remaining lice would reveal themselves at this point and be decisively crushed by Grandma.
However, the comb didn’t actually reveal many lice, because Xiao Hua was still a young kitten, hadn’t followed the mother cat much on hunts, and was well cared for, so she was quite clean.
In no time at all, Xiao Hua was thoroughly combed through by Granny Wang, its fur nearly dried, fluffy and soft to the touch, like clouds. Moreover, whether it was an illusion or not, it seemed that after its bath, its colors had brightened a bit. The white fur on its belly was as white as snow, and it carried a faint scent of mugwort, mixed with the innate fragrance of a cat—like bedding that had been basked in the sun—making one feel warm and cozy.
Now, when Xiao Hua approached Yuan Niang again and was petted and hugged by her, neither Madam Cen nor Granny Wang stopped it.
In the afternoon, everyone sat in the courtyard, basking in the sun. Some teased the cat with small flags, some sat under the mulberry tree reading as usual, while others tidied up the mess, occasionally sharing a laugh or two.
There was no moment more gentle and serene than this.
Even the wind was warm and soft.
As the sun showed signs of tilting westward, Granny Wang picked up her blue printed money pouch, weighed it in her hand, and then turned her gaze to Yuan Niang.
“Stop playing around, come here. What would you like for dinner tonight?”
Yuan Niang, upon being called, was momentarily stunned. Hearing the latter half of the sentence, she immediately perked up, sidling up to Granny Wang, linking arms with her, her eyes sparkling. “Can I have anything?”
“What do you think?” Granny Wang’s expression was stern. “If you want dragon liver or phoenix marrow, I don’t have that skill.”
Though Granny Wang’s words were harsh, Yuan Niang was adept at seeing past the surface to the essence. The meaning was that slightly more expensive ordinary dishes were acceptable.
Yuan Niang’s face immediately lit up with a smile. However, having been poor for many years, she didn’t dare to ask for too much right away. Hesitantly, she tested the waters: “Meat-stuffed tripe and intestines?”
“Fine.” Granny Wang agreed without the slightest hesitation.
Seeing her rise to leave, Yuan Niang instantly regretted it. If such an expensive dish as meat-stuffed tripe and intestines could be agreed to without hesitation, perhaps something else might also be possible?
Yuan Niang exclaimed loudly, “No, no, not that! I want to eat chicken!”
“You little troublemaker!” Granny Wang’s patience ran out, her brows furrowing. “What exactly do you want to eat?”
Chen Yuanniang revealed her pearly white teeth, her smile as ingratiating as a little sycophant who regarded Grandma as her world. “Chicken! The kind that’s crispy and crunchy when you eat it, with a hint of sourness but incredibly fragrant, and maybe even a touch of wine aroma.
“It’s called… called…”
Yuan Niang faltered. She definitely hadn’t eaten it herself; it was Xu Chenger who had, saying he’d tasted it at a banquet outside, and it was extremely delicious. Just hearing Xu Chenger’s description had stirred Yuan Niang’s cravings, filling her with longing.
But she didn’t seem to recall the name, only knowing that the cooking method involved roasting it for a long time.
Before Yuan Niang could ponder further, Granny Wang already had the answer in mind. “Is it Stove-roasted Chicken?”
There are countless dishes in the world, and Granny Wang couldn’t possibly know them all. But this Stove-roasted Chicken was a peculiar coincidence, as it was a dish her long-deceased father had loved dearly during his lifetime. Whenever he wanted a small drink, Stove-roasted Chicken had to be on the table.
For this reason, she had specifically sought guidance from the family cook to learn the secret recipe. And truth be told, the Stove-roasted Chicken sold outside probably couldn’t compare to the one she made.
Learning to cook never felt like hardship, but when her marriage went awry, she hated her father to death, feeling everything had been wasted. When her husband died and her own family came scheming, regret washed over her, bitter resentment for all her futile efforts. Now, after so many years, her hands itch with longing—would it still taste the same if she made it again?
Her family had fallen into ruin, and she wondered how that cook who shared the secret recipe was faring—whether the recipe had been passed down.
One dish stirred up many memories for Granny Wang.
Seeing the usually tough Grandma unexpectedly showing nostalgic, sorrowful expression, eyes fixed and somewhat dazed, was more startling than the sun rising from the west.
Yuan Niang didn’t know about that past incident and felt her heart flutter with fear, cautiously probing, “Maybe… I don’t have to eat it.”
Her words snapped Granny Wang back to reality. Granny Wang rolled her eyes and delivered her verdict, “What nonsense! We’re eating this!”
With that, Granny Wang slung her bamboo basket and headed out on her own.
She wasn’t going to the roadside inn to buy ready-made Stove-roasted Chicken. If she made it herself, she’d have to start by buying the chicken, and delaying further would mean waiting until tomorrow to eat. However, using a whole chicken just for Stove-roasted Chicken seemed wasteful—a plump rooster cost at least three hundred wen. If she really used it all, two half-grown children could devour it in one meal. Maybe she should buy some fermented rice grains?
Fermented rice grains were cheap and could save on salt. With the weather turning colder now, it was perfect for making fermented rice grain chicken—no fear of spoilage, the flavors would marinate better, and once made, she could give some to the Xu family next door.
Neighbors—you had to send food occasionally, show your goodwill, to keep things warm and friendly.
Granny Wang calculated all along the way, and when buying things, she was even more adept, without any delay.
On her return, her left bamboo basket held fermented rice grains, salt, scallions, and such, while her right hand alone carried the rooster by its wings, walking briskly. Anyone who knew her back in Bianjing would surely not recognize her now—she was utterly changed. Yet, the calm, strategic composure between her brows remained unchanged, and even her aged eyes held more penetrating wisdom.
During the journey, Granny Wang pondered another matter: how to arrange her shop space.
Originally, she planned to rent it out, so there would be visible income. But last time, following Xi Lang’s suggestion, she made lotus leaf glutinous rice chicken, which neighbors loved, and Madam Hui also suggested she might consider opening her own shop.
After all, food shops in Bianjing worked like this: if you had one standout dish, you didn’t need to fear lacking customers—food enthusiasts would come sniffing out the aroma. Besides, her skills were truly good, and she herself had many signature dishes.
Madam Hui also advised her: if worried about insufficient help at home, reluctant to let her granddaughter face public exposure, and with ample household funds, she could buy a maid—choose a young, nimble one, costing no more than fifty or sixty guan for a ten-year contract. Hiring in Bianjing wasn’t cost-effective; daily wages for rough work were about forty wen, and if selecting someone skilled, the price doubled.
Though Granny Wang hadn’t returned to Bianjing for some years, she grew up there and managed households, so she naturally knew Madam Hui was right. Back then, her own family bought servants with lifelong contracts but still paid monthly wages—the expenses weren’t cheaper than hiring labor. Yet wealthy households preferred buying slaves, fearing hired workers might cause more trouble.
Lost in thought, she had already arrived at the doorstep.
Granny Wang pushed open the small gate and saw Yuan Niang hopping up and down, dodging left and right. The wooden staircase echoed with a series of “cluck-cluck-cluck” sounds, while the newly returned kitten, with its short legs, swayed its head and sniffed around, searching for Yuan Niang.
Yuan Niang occasionally peeked out, her laughter ringing like silver bells. “Haha, Xiao Hua, I’m here!”
“Oops, I’ve moved again~”
“Silly Xiao Hua, you can’t find me!”
…
Granny Wang couldn’t help but shake her head. Children were just children, regardless of gender—full of energy, as if they could leap to the heavens.
Not like her, old and weary!
However, Granny Wang soon realized the benefits of a child’s boundless energy.
When she was about to slaughter the chicken, Yuan Niang urged Madam Cen to rest and volunteered to help with the task.
Although Yuan Niang, who had personally experienced the encounter with the noble today, was completely unfazed, Madam Cen seemed to have been stirred by memories of the past. Overwhelmed with worry, she had developed a slight fever and was in no condition to work, especially not to take part in something as intense as slaughtering.
So Yuan Niang eagerly took over.
Truth be told, she wasn’t fully grown yet, and children shouldn’t witness such scenes. But she insisted, and having grown up in the countryside, she had even joined her friends during the New Year to watch the excitement of pig slaughter. Granny Wang decided not to restrain her.
Compared to her easily worried and melancholic daughter-in-law, she felt her granddaughter had a much sturdier disposition.
Still, she couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t you afraid?”
To her surprise, Yuan Niang looked utterly fearless and replied earnestly, “Afraid of what? It’s just killing a chicken. Do you think I’m scared a chicken might come to claim my soul? Hmph, if anything, I’ll just eat a few extra bites!”
Well, well, Granny Wang finally understood—this granddaughter truly wasn’t afraid, and she wasn’t putting on a brave face for her mother’s sake. It was just as well. Being bold meant she wouldn’t be easily bullied. Granny Wang didn’t want her granddaughter to grow up timid, relying on her, Grandma, for everything and staying silent when wronged.
If truth be told, her daughter-in-law, Madam Cen, was exactly that kind of delicate soul. Granny Wang considered herself a good mother-in-law, never mistreating Madam Cen, yet Madam Cen’s tendency to worry had weakened her health. Memories of the past would occasionally resurface, causing her to fall ill again.
Ah…
Granny Wang sighed inwardly, but her hands never stopped moving. Sighing as she worked, she deftly slit the chicken’s throat without spilling a single drop of blood.
She then added a bit of salt and water to the chicken blood and set it aside.
Chen Kuo Cang, who was tending the fire at the Zao, brought out a pot of boiling water and poured it into a wooden bucket. Granny Wang dipped the plump chicken into the scalding water, then began plucking its feathers by hand. This task was something only Granny Wang could handle, as the water was so hot that without thick calluses, one’s hands would surely be scalded.
Fortunately, Granny Wang worked efficiently. In less than half an hour, she had plucked the feathers, gutted the chicken, and cleaned it thoroughly.
Next, she split the chicken in half. One half was placed directly into boiling water, scalded until the meat was cooked but the bones still bled slightly, then chopped into large pieces and set aside to cool. This half was intended for making fermented rice grains chicken.
The other half was chopped into small pieces while still raw, then placed in a pot with cold water, along with scallions and ginger, and boiled until about eighty percent cooked before being removed.
Then, hot oil was added to the wok for stir-frying, followed by vinegar, salt, and wine. The mixture was transferred to a clay pot, covered with a bowl, and simmered over low heat. Once dried, water was added, and the process was repeated several times until the chicken became tender and fully cooked.
Taking advantage of this gap, Granny Wang stir-fried the fermented rice grains and salt together in the Tie Guo, while Yuan Niang and Chen Kuocang assisted by tending the fire.
Granny Wang, in high spirits, taught the two youngsters a frugal and practical method. “These fermented rice grains are cheap—just one and a half wen per jin. Salt costs forty-four wen per jin, so using it for pickling is truly heartbreaking. But if you use too little salt, the meat will spoil and turn foul, which is even more of a waste.
“Stir-frying the fermented rice grains with salt makes a difference. After frying, you can use it for pickling and save a lot of salt. It also adds a wine aroma to the food. Just remember, autumn and winter are the best seasons for pickling—not only is it less likely to spoil, but the flavor is also at its finest.”
Chen Yuanniang looked enlightened, as if she had just grasped a profound truth.
Chen Kuocang, however, remained silent. Unlike Yuan Niang, he had tasted wine-marinated chicken in modern times because one of his close friends adored anything made with fermented rice grains and would always order it as a drinking snack.
This was one of those things that people either loved or hated. It certainly saved salt and was fragrant, and the pickled chicken or duck skin was never greasy but pleasantly chewy. However, it naturally carried a bitter aftertaste of wine.
But as Chen Kuocang of the Northern Song Dynasty, he should not have tasted it before, so he chose not to respond.
Yuan Niang, on the other hand, was full of praise, almost elevating the yet-to-be-tasted wine-marinated chicken to heavenly heights. She eagerly washed her hands and began coating the chicken with the stir-fried fermented rice grains, meticulously ensuring no spot was missed.
Finally, the surface had to be sealed with the fermented rice grains to prevent the chicken from being exposed. Once the jar was sealed, the task was complete.
After this accomplishment, Granny Wang began pondering what other dishes with different flavors they could make. Since they were planning to open a shop, they couldn’t rely on just a few items.
Just then, the Stove-roasted Chicken was ready.
Granny Wang also stir-fried shredded radish into a dish—light and refreshing to cut through the richness, especially since the evening meal already featured a hearty dish like Stove-roasted Chicken. Why worry about stomachaches from too much greasy food if they added a few more good dishes?
Although they now had some extra money, had rented out the ancestral home for additional income, and she had even scolded Yuan Niang for being too frugal, Granny Wang couldn’t help feeling a pang of heartache as she looked at the Stove-roasted Chicken in the clay pot. After all, she had endured many years of hardship in the countryside.
She couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. In her youth, she would never have believed that one day she’d feel heartache over half a chicken.
A faint smile flickered in Granny Wang’s cloudy, relaxed eyes.
Then, using chopsticks, she picked out a small portion of the chicken, placed it on a plate, and walked next door to deliver it to the Xu family.
Reciprocity—giving and receiving—was what kept relationships alive.
Only after Granny Wang returned from her delivery did the family begin their meal. Although there was a hearty dish like Stove-roasted Chicken, Madam Cen wasn’t feeling well, so they had prepared porridge. After all, it was just the evening meal—no need to worry about hunger. Besides, even wealthy households didn’t eat dry meals every day, especially when it wasn’t a time for heavy labor.
Yuan Niang finally got to taste the long-awaited Stove-roasted Chicken. It had no trace of chicken gaminess, the skin was crispy yet tender without being greasy, and the cooking wine didn’t overpower the chicken’s natural sweetness. It carried both the aroma of wine and the savory, roasted fragrance from the stove. Most importantly, a slight tanginess cut through any potential greasiness or meaty odor, leaving only a lingering fragrance in the aftertaste.
The stir-fried shredded radish was the perfect refresher—with one bite, it brought a soothing coolness from the throat down to the stomach and spleen.
This pairing was just right, showing that Granny Wang had considered everything thoroughly.
After the meal, Chen Kuocang washed the dishes. Since Yuan Niang had helped slaughter the chicken, the task of cleaning the bowls and chopsticks naturally fell to him.
Although the weather was growing colder, washing dishes wasn’t particularly arduous. Since the household could now use a Tie Guo, washing dishes and utensils was mostly done by taking advantage of the leftover warmth from the wood in the Zao after cooking. A bit of water was added, and by the time it was needed for washing, the water in the Tie Guo was just hot enough to mix with cold water for use.
Back in the village, things weren’t so convenient. Their family couldn’t afford a Tie Guo at that time, and if they had to specially heat water in a clay pot, it would have been incredibly troublesome.
But there were downsides too. In Bianjing, all wood for burning had to be purchased—unlike in the countryside where you could simply send children to gather branches from the mountains, saving thirty wen per bundle! In winter, there was also the expense of charcoal, costing five or six wen per pound. It didn’t seem expensive at first glance, but once you started burning it, the amount used was unpredictable. With three rooms in the house, it was manageable during the day, but you couldn’t have everyone cram into one room at night just to save charcoal, right?
How embarrassing that would sound.
Just thinking about it, Granny Wang felt they should open the shop immediately.
Making more money—nothing shameful about that!
That way, they could also live a good life openly.
Tomorrow, she would need to visit Madam Hui to seek advice. Having been away from Bianjing for many years, she had no idea how to purchase servants or which brokers were more reliable. Unlike the Xu family, who had long resided in Bianjing and were deeply rooted there.
Once servants were bought early, they could help with miscellaneous tasks. Perhaps due to returning to her hometown, Cen Rou’s health had worsened. Although Yuan Niang and Xi Lang were sensible and willing to help with chores, now that she had spare money and a stable income, she couldn’t bear to let her grandchildren suffer.
Granny Wang lay down on the Chuang Ta with a mind full of worries. Most people might toss and turn, calculating endlessly, but perhaps due to her age or having witnessed many major events, within half a moment, snores echoed in the room.
Outside the small window, the moon shone bright and stars sparse; inside the warm room, clear moonlight spread everywhere.
The master slept soundly, and the neighbors’ chickens and dogs remained quiet.
Of course, there were exceptions.
Yuan Niang crouched by the door of her room, eaves intently, sensing that everyone in the house had fallen asleep. She stealthily opened the door. Wearing white silk socks, she tiptoed, trying not to make a sound, and sidestepped down the wooden stairs. She picked up Xiao Hua, who was curled up in the cat bed in the main hall.
Xiao Hua first pricked up its ears, pupils dilated, and looked up in alarm. Upon recognizing the visitor, it relaxed, its tail tip swaying back and forth, even whimpering softly in a kittenish voice.
Yuan Niang immediately placed her index finger on her lips, making a “shh” gesture, regardless of whether the cat understood human actions.
Then, she glanced around, tiptoed like a crab moving sideways, and carried the cat up to the Gelou.
Only after closing her own door did she finally relax. Though it was autumn, she felt she was sweating from exhaustion.
But!
For Xiao Hua, everything was worth it!
She wiped Xiao Hua’s pink paw pads and happily placed it on the bed. Then, she lowered the bed curtains, creating her own little world.
Yuan Niang solemnly introduced the majestic and beautiful cloth tiger Dahua to Xiao Hua beside the pillow. She even teased Xiao Hua with Dahua, occasionally making “ao-wu ao-wu” sounds, which made Xiao Hua’s eyes round and black. And because Xiao Hua was simply too adorable, she couldn’t resist kissing and hugging it, giggling with laughter.
Downstairs, apart from Granny Wang who was already sound asleep, Chen Kuo Cang in the western Jiao Fang and Madam Cen in the western wing both looked up simultaneously when Yuan Niang stealthily closed her door. Occasionally hearing her laughter, they smiled knowingly.
Children always think they are experts at hide-and-seek, but they are actually under the watchful eyes of their elders.
Days passed in such simple, unadorned fashion, one after another.
Soon, it was the day Chen Kuo Cang entered the private school.
Bianjing had many schools. If from an official family, most could attend clan schools. If sons of high-ranking officials or nobles, they could hire distinguished tutors separately. When age was sufficient and knowledge had matured, they could take exams to enter the Imperial College or Guozijian. But for common children like Chen Kuo Cang, only private schools were available.
The area they lived in was bustling and prosperous, and the state valued scholars. In places where literary culture flourished, wanting to study was certainly not difficult.
The court often provided support, and the public also donated. Many Daru generously lent books, and most academies and schools owned farmland to support students’ studies. If families were poor, they could even waive Shuxiu and use writing materials donated by prominent clans.
But these had nothing to do with Chen Kuo Cang.
His family’s circumstances were now quite prosperous, after all, they lived in a whole house near Zhouqiao. Even though the government provided subsidies for schools, Granny Wang would never exploit loopholes to let Chen Kuocang take advantage of poor students.
So, the Shuxiu still had to be prepared.
For the first time entering school, ceremony outweighed practicality. There was also a writing initiation ceremony upon entering school, so they had to follow ancient customs to prepare the six Shuxiu gifts. Later, it would be normal tuition fees, handed over on the fifteenth day of the middle month each season.
After all, he was attending a good private school, unlike some scholars in the alley who taught a few neighborhood children to read characters, costing only four or five coins per day. If you wanted to use preserved meat to offset tuition fees, you might as well go home and see if there were any village schools in the countryside.
Perhaps because this matter was significant, symbolizing a new beginning, Chen Kuocang, who usually liked to keep a stern face, looked even more serious.
At such a young age, with a face of about seven or eight years old, he exuded an aura of keeping strangers at a distance.
If ordinary adults saw him, they might be startled.
But this was completely ineffective against Chen Yuanniang. She was his sister, and since ancient times, there was no principle of a sister fearing her brother. Not only was he small and short now, even if he grew into a nine-foot tall man, Yuanniang would dare to stand with her arms akimbo and scold him.
However, on such a good day, she wouldn’t bully her brother without reason.
She even woke up early, closely following Grandma to see what needed to be prepared. Usually the most noisy person, she dared not utter a single word, afraid it might be unlucky.
Chen Kuocang sat by the window reading all along, his youthful face showing no excitement or tension, very composed.
Soon, Granny Wang prepared breakfast, all light vegetarian dishes, using sesame oil, without any meat. Whenever encountering big days, Granny Wang never allowed the family to eat meat in the morning, like on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, even on the first and fifteenth days of the month, saying it could pray for blessings.
After a simple breakfast, Granny Wang watched Chen Kuocang adjust his clothes and hat, no matter how you looked, there was no fault to find, he was a top-notch handsome and upright child.
Then she checked again how the six Shuxiu gifts were prepared, personally handing them to the child going to school, this task was assigned to Yuanniang.
Yuanniang rarely looked serious, without playful expressions, handing each item one by one to Chen Kuocang. This was the family’s expectations for him, and at school, there was another round.
First were ten pieces of preserved meat, all carefully selected by Granny Wang, with a mix of fat and lean, dried beautifully, each piece wrapped in oil paper.
“Respect teachers and honor principles!”
Chen Kuocang received it, solemnly saying, “I will remember!”
Then came celery.
“Hope you are diligent.”
“I will remember!”
Lotus seeds.
“Hope you study diligently.”
“I will remember.”
…
When the last “I will remember” fell, the bamboo basket was full, preserved meat, celery, longan, lotus seeds, red beans, red dates, the six Shuxiu gifts, all prepared.
Next, it was not something the family could do for him.
Entering school to study hard, embarking on the Keju path to success, had to rely on himself.
Granny Wang carried the Shuxiu six gifts for him, while Chen Kuocang himself held the book box that was nearly a quarter of his size. Inside were writing brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, a few books, and a small bag of snacks. Although today was the first formal day of entering the school, once there, the initiation ceremony alone would take many hours. Even after the ceremony was over, he couldn’t return directly; he had to stay in the school with the other children until dismissal time.
The school would provide the midday meal, but it likely wouldn’t be very good. Granny Wang had already inquired—snacks that could fill the stomach had to be brought, otherwise he would have to attend school hungry.
Although back in the countryside, she and her brother would separate every day—one going to gather wild vegetables and mushrooms, the other to collect branches—they wouldn’t be together all the time. Yet now, as she sent her brother off, Yuan Niang unexpectedly felt reluctant, her heart torn into pieces, inexplicably agitated.
In contrast, Chen Kuocang, a half-grown child, carrying the heavy book box, made one’s heart sink, fearing he might stumble and fall. Yet his expression was impassive, his steps steady and firm, neither proud nor impatient, neither panicked nor hurried, walking the path beneath his feet as steadfast as a rock.
Beside him was only the elderly Granny Wang.
One old, one young, in the still faint light of dawn, facing the newly rising morning sun, they advanced against the cold wind. The small grass by their feet was coated with sparkling white frost.
Autumn had truly arrived, but in the faint morning light, there was always a strand of golden beam.
Yuan Niang stood at the small gate, alongside Madam Cen, watching the two depart.
Only when even their shadows had completely vanished from sight did she reluctantly return.
Although Madam Cen was also worried and excited, her nature was such that she wouldn’t overly display her emotions. Yuan Niang was different; even after entering the house, she couldn’t resist pacing back and forth in the courtyard, circling the mulberry tree in the yard, unable to settle for even a moment.
Since learning which school Xi Lang would attend, she had once secretly gone with Xu Chenger to check it out. The round trip from home took about half an hour—not too far, not too close. Grandma still had to accompany Xi Lang to visit the teacher, which would surely delay them further, meaning at least an hour before they returned home.
Yuan Niang anxiously crouched down, hands cupping her cheeks, sighing heavily.
How long would she have to wait?
She eagerly wanted to know how things were going—would Xi Lang adapt? How was the teacher? Was he strict?
Although she knew Xi Lang was very clever, and with his temperament, he likely wouldn’t be easily bullied, she couldn’t help but worry. Anxious and impatient, she felt as if ants were crawling inside her organs, making her restless.
Wasting time like this, back and forth, she didn’t know how long it had passed when Xu Chenger came knocking.
She came to find her to go shopping at the stalls by Zhouqiao. It was said that a neighbor’s elder sister was getting married. Although the real gifts like money and cloth would be prepared by the elders, Xu Chenger still wanted to contribute her own thoughtfulness.
Yuan Niang naturally agreed.
Waiting anxiously at home, it was better to go out. She ran to inform Madam Cen and prepared to leave.
Who knew Xu Chenger instead stopped, patting her waist and saying she forgot to bring her money pouch, asking Yuan Niang to wait at home for her. Once she fetched the money pouch, she would come over.
Yuan Niang naturally had no objection, but that waiting interval gave her some other thoughts.
Last time, I treated Xu Chenger to a meal and still had twenty coins left. Should I go out this time and bring something for Xi Lang? It’s his first day at school, after all, and he deserves some encouragement.
Just as I was pondering this, the small door was knocked. Yuan Niang muttered to herself—she hadn’t closed it properly.
Yuan Niang stepped forward and opened the door a crack, tilting her head to peek outside. To her surprise, she saw an unfamiliar young woman.
She wore a grass-gray coarse cloth top and a brown hemp skirt. Even in such cheap clothing, there were many patches, even on the shoes. The soles were worn thin, as if they might give way at any moment.
As for her appearance, it was ordinary—not quite delicate, but not particularly unattractive either. She was the kind of person you’d easily overlook in a crowd.
She looked very uneasy, out of place in the bustling and extravagant Bianjing. Even in the countryside where Yuan Niang had once lived, she seemed to be among the poorest.
Yuan Niang grew suspicious and prepared to close the door at any moment.
But to her surprise, the young woman suddenly knelt down and cried out, “This humble servant greets the young mistress!”