Shen Mingyu hesitated for three days.
The dim, yellowish light of the oil lamp illuminated the cramped thatched cottage as she sat at the head of the bed, holding the longevity lock and staring at it.
She didn’t know who she was, nor what her true background was, but this was her only keepsake for finding her family. She had stolen the longevity lock, and she had no idea how soon Madame Qin would discover it and come knocking.
She had grown up poor, thinking that as long as she worked hard, she would win other people’s affection, but her mother still didn’t like her. She had also dreamed of a good life, thinking that after marrying Pei Lang, as long as the two of them worked together, they could live better and better. Yet Pei Lang had taken the money he had scrimped and saved to buy a bracelet for someone else.
She gazed at the four walls of the house. Several mouse holes in the corners had already been plugged up with stones by Pei Shumin. The pitted and uneven stone walls had been smoothed over with straw to ward off the wind and rain, but when the rain was heavy, they still leaked, and she and Pei Lang would have to use basins to catch the water, making repairs only after the weather cleared up.
Shen Mingyu lowered her head, buried her face in her knees, and hugged herself as she sobbed softly.
She wanted a good life—she wanted one so badly.
Every time she went to the Zhou household, she had to rack her brains to say pleasant things and curry favor, daring not to offend anyone. She was afraid the Zhou family would snatch Pei Lang away from her, and she no longer dared to gamble on that tiny shred of genuine feeling from Pei Lang.
She also wanted to be like Zhou Wan, having a father to dote on her and a mother to love her. Children with parents to back them up were like that; no matter what they did, they would never be abandoned. As for her and Pei Lang, to put it bluntly, they had come together because of mutual utility—Pei Lang used silver to marry her, hoping she would bear children for him.
On the day before her departure, Shen Mingyu cleaned the house from top to bottom.
The road to the capital was too far, and she didn’t have enough travel expenses. Thinking it over and over, she could only take Pei Shumin’s money with her first.
Shen Mingyu left a note behind, writing in her newly learned, clumsy strokes: Brother Pei, I have left. Thank you for taking care of me during this time; I am going to find my family. I owe you forty taels of silver, thirty taels of which is the betrothal money, and ten taels is what you left behind. If I have money in the future, I will definitely repay you.
After writing this, Shen Mingyu slipped the note underneath the cosmetic dressing box.
This was the cosmetic box Pei Shumin had personally crafted for her out of wooden blocks.
Shen Mingyu touched it one last time, figuring that since she was leaving, a grown man like Pei Lang certainly wouldn’t wear her left-behind wooden hairpins, so she took them all and put them into her small bundle.
She packed her money and dry rations well. Before stepping out the door, she looked back one last time at the tiny courtyard and thatched cottage, which had been cleaned until it was spotless.
This place held their most precious memories. It seemed as though she could still see the youth splitting firewood in the courtyard on a moonlit night, sweating profusely as his movements pulled at the muscles of his back. There was also the youth who had carried her back to the house, the youth who had sent her to school and taught her to read and write… Shen Mingyu secretly wiped away a tear, and with a heart full of lingering affection, she turned and left.
If there was anyone who woke up earliest in the day, it had to be the steamed bun stall vendor.
Cao Laosan’s family lived between Kangzhou and Jizhou. This route was also the smoothest thoroughfare from Jiangnan heading to the capital, and merchant caravans traveling south and north would pass through here every day.
If luck was good, one could even catch sight of the southern-bound black-armored cavalry of the imperial court. They never showed their true faces to others, wearing helmets and armor, raising dust and dirt wherever their black banners went, a sight inspiring awe.
Before dawn, Cao Laosan woke up as usual, starting to knead dough and wrap fillings.
He called his wife to help, and once the steamed buns were cooked, he moved his stall to the side of the imperial highway two li away. Setting up alongside him were others selling wine, herbal tea, and dry rations. With so many merchant caravans traveling through here, business was even better than in the city.
“Shopkeeper, how much for your steamed buns?”
Cao Laosan made his first sale. The customer who stepped up first was a hunchbacked old woman leaning on a walking stick.
Her face was filthy and covered in red freckles, yet a pair of dark pupils stared fixedly at the steamer baskets.
She was small and thin, looking as though she hadn’t eaten for several days. Looking at her, Cao Laosan for some reason thought of his own elderly mother, and the words “Three wen for a meat bun, one wen for a vegetable bun” simply couldn’t pass his throat. “I’m selling them cheap right now. Meat buns are one wen, and if you buy a meat bun, I’ll give you a vegetable bun for free.”
Hearing this, the old woman’s pupils lit up, and she repeated several times in a coarse voice: “A good person! You’re a truly good person!”
Cao Laosan packed up the buns.
Her dark, trembling hands took them, and she muttered “good person” to him in gratitude once more before limping away with her walking stick.
Watching that crooked, tiny, thin back, Cao Laosan could only shake his head and sigh: In this world, there are too many people living bitter lives. It’s truly not easy.
The old woman walked forward with her walking stick, slipped into the woods along the imperial highway, and sat down in a patch of shaded trees where no one was around.
She smoothed out her messy dark hair, her long eyelashes fluttering against her dusty face.
The aroma of the freshly steamed buns drifted out. Shen Mingyu broke them in half and slowly ate them with water from her waterskin.
Along the way, she had disguised herself as a begging old woman and hadn’t encountered much danger.
Perhaps it was because she was petite and thin, or perhaps because her disguise was too convincing, but she had actually received quite a bit of charity. Sometimes passersby gave her too much food and she felt too embarrassed to accept it, but they would forcefully stuff it into her hands, sighing along the way about how difficult life was in this world.
After finishing her meal, Shen Mingyu patted her satisfied belly.
Strange, why has my waist gotten a bit thicker recently…
She didn’t pay much attention to it, though, assuming she had simply put on weight.
She gazed out into the distance at the greenish-blue rural fields. Ever since setting off, two months had already passed, and in another five days of walking, she would reach the capital.
A wisp of early summer breeze swept past the young woman’s brows, swirling around to catch the green leaves in the forest, before blowing all the way into the distant, bustling Bianjing City.
…
“Selling snacks! Sesame-infused rice noodles, fragrant sugar pastries, litchi syrup, sugar-iced cold yuanzi, plum ginger…”
“Freshly roasted pork skin, wild duck meat, perilla fish, roasted meat jerky, jade-plate fish strips…”
The streets of Bianjing’s South Market were extraordinarily lively. Heading north from Longjin Bridge and passing through the Zhuque Gate brought one to the Zhouqiao Market. There were people selling food, selling calligraphy, paintings, and antiques, and selling spices…
Amidst the overlapping cries of peddlers, the neighing of a horse pierced the sky.
Wielding a whip to urge his horse forward was a youth with his hair tied high in a striking manner. The stall owners were instantly drawn, whispering among themselves, but before they could even get a clear look, the man and his brocade-clad attendants behind him had already galloped past, leaving only a blur of dust and shadows.
Over at the Pan Family Restaurant on the other side of the South Market.
Kitchen staff in white linen shirts followed the manager’s instructions, holding soft turquoise cloths and carrying out dishes of rare delicacies one after another.
The Pan family ran a massive business, with restaurants spread across the entire Central Plains, not to mention that the culinary skills of these kitchen hands ranked among the top in the entire capital. Even so, every step this group of people took was exceptionally cautious, fearing the slightest mistake—all because the customer who had arrived this time was someone even their chief manager rushed to fawn over.
“Manager Xue, the dishes you requested have all been prepared and plated.”
The kitchen staff didn’t dare to raise their heads. Hearing an “hn” from the other side, the manager made a dismissive wave, and only then did they step lightly and carefully pack the dishes into the sandalwood-carved floral food box.
“Manager Xue, take care on your way! If you need anything next time, just send a young fellow over to pass the word. Why trouble yourself to run all the way here in person? Once our little shop receives word, we’ll definitely prepare it with the utmost care!”
After Manager Xue and his bustling entourage departed, the manager finally let out a sigh of relief.
The kitchen hands also breathed easier.
Xue Ding hadn’t walked even two steps carrying the food box before a young page quickly approached from behind: “Manager, let the little one carry it.”
Xue Ding narrowed his eyes at him and pulled his elbow back: “You’re usually not diligent, but today you’re suddenly all eagerness. Could it be you want to show off in front of Second Master Jun?”
The page timidly pulled his hand back, lowering his head and playing the obedient servant: “How could that be? Manager, you jest! The little one wouldn’t dare compare to you even if given ten thousand strands of courage.”
Only then did Xue Ding let out a cold snort and board the carriage.
Upon arriving at the Marquis’s estate, Xue Ding saw from a distance a page leading a white-maned horse. He hurriedly got down from the carriage, crossed the main gate to the spirit wall, and sure enough, saw a scarlet figure standing beneath the floral shadows.
Xue Ding lowered his head quickly and stepped forward respectfully: “Second Master.”
The early summer breeze gently brushed by, causing a pear tree to shed a flurry of blossoms. Xue Ding carried the food box, catching a whiff of the floral fragrance in the wind mixed with the dense scent of soil brought back from the master’s shooting range.
“How is my mother?”
“Before the little one left the estate, the mistress had just woken up. She didn’t give any special instructions, only telling the maidservants to attend to her washing and dressing as usual.”
Helan Jun: “That’s good. Did you buy the things I asked for?”
Xue Ding hastily handed over the sandalwood-carved floral food box: “Second Master specifically named the dishes from the Pan Family Restaurant, and they are all here.”
Helan Jun opened the lid of the food box and glanced inside. Finding it satisfactory, he personally took hold of it after verifying the dishes.
Carrying the food box, he strode through one winding covered corridor after another, entering the main courtyard where the Marquis’s wife resided.
At that moment, Helan Qian was already waiting outside the door. Helan Jun softly called out “Older Brother” and was about to knock when Helan Qian stopped him, “Mother’s state of mind is unsettled right now. You and I had better not disturb her; let her calm down for a bit first.”
“I know. I know Mother is grieving, which is why I hurried back without stopping and had people buy dishes from Pan Family Tower.”
Helan Jun said, “Mother likes this restaurant the best. In the past, whenever she was angry, we only needed to buy food from here, and she would cheer up after eating. Now that such a thing has happened, you and I should accompany her even more.”
“But this time is different.” Helan Qian frowned, “She doesn’t even want to see Father. When I went to soothe her, I was chased out, and Younger Sister Yan doesn’t even dare to draw near. The people we sent out have returned no news; if Little Sister can be found, well and good, but if she cannot…”
At this point, Helan Qian fell silent.
Helan Jun also lapsed into silence.
A month ago, their family had received a secret letter. The letter was unsigned, yet it madly laid out a shocking truth. They dared not believe it, and even the Marquis’s wife dared not believe it.
Over the years, they had all witnessed how deeply their mother cherished Third Sister. Even when Third Sister acted willfully and committed many mistakes, their mother would always protect her. Yet what came to light later was that Third Sister wasn’t Mother’s child at all, but rather Concubine Qin’s.
Concubine Qin was Father’s former concubine, who had been sold off by Mother for making a grave mistake. Later, somehow or other, she had become “Hua Niang” at the Jizhou judge’s residence—she had stolen away the true Third Sister, swapped her with her own biological daughter, and subsequently vanished without a trace along with that child.
Concubine Qin hated Mother, and they couldn’t even bear to imagine how she would treat that child. The Marquis’s wife had her heart shattered by this, anxiously and frantically wanting to go look for her—just last night, the men they sent out to search reported that a human trafficker had bought a child from Hua Niang a dozen years ago, and that child, unwanted by anyone, had been passed through multiple hands…
Just hearing this news had been more than the Marquis’s wife could bear, and she had spent the entire night weeping.
“Big Brother, don’t you find that secret letter rather bizarre?”
“A letter without even a signature, yet it was sent at a time like this. We traced the sender, but couldn’t find a thing. The other party cleaned up thoroughly with superb methods, leaving not a single trace behind.”
Helan Qian merely said, “Third Sister’s matter is something we investigated ourselves.”
“Third Sister’s matter is true; that wicked woman indeed swapped the children.” Helan Jun’s sharp gaze fixed on him, “In this world, no one does favors for nothing. Right now, the Emperor is seriously ill, and the political winds at court are changing instantly. What about the person behind this? What are they trying to push forward using this matter?”