“My lord, Miss Yuxue is here.”
“Let her in.”
Lin Zhuo didn’t even lift his head. Moments later, he heard a soft, gentle voice greeting him. He finally set down his brush and said casually, “What has your mistress made this time? Another delicacy to send over?”
“Today, Her Ladyship made ginseng chicken soup. She’s especially skilled at it and asks that my lord taste it.”
Yuxue set the food box on the table and ladled some soup into a small bowl. Lin Zhuo asked indifferently, “Why suddenly think of making chicken soup?”
“Her Ladyship hasn’t shown this skill before. And since around the time of Qingming, most of the dishes in the manor have been light and plain. It so happened that the Princess returned from the countryside today and brought some wild vegetables—she even sent some to Her Ladyship. Those wild greens help cut the greasiness from rich food. So Her Ladyship thought she might make some chicken soup for you to nourish yourself. My lord seems thinner than at the time of the wedding.”
At that, Lin Zhuo understood immediately: this wasn’t a gift of soup—it was a veiled complaint.
Yet his expression didn’t change. Calm as ever, he took the bowl, sipped twice, and nodded. “Not bad—flavor’s just right.”
“My lord enjoys it, so Her Ladyship will surely be pleased. If you wish to have it again, just say the word—she’ll be delighted to make it for you.”
Yuxue smiled sweetly. Lin Zhuo nodded. “Very well. Leave the rest here. You may go—and thank the concubine on my behalf.”
“Her Ladyship would surely say it was her duty and no trouble at all.”
Yuxue finished with a bow and withdrew.
Lin Zhuo looked at the bowl for a moment, then suddenly shook his head. “Call you foolish, yet you’re rather clever; call you clever, yet still… Do you think everyone’s as pure-hearted as you? Really…”
Xile, standing nearby, didn’t dare say a word. Suddenly Lin Zhuo asked, “What time is it? It’s getting late, isn’t it? Enough work for now. Let’s go to Anle Pavilion.”
Inside Anle Pavilion, Qiuxiang was murmuring complaints to Fangcao.
“Our lady is far too honest. She thought those wild vegetables were good and sent them to the concubine, but you should’ve seen that woman’s face—tsk, tsk! I said it before: why bother? If our lady likes them, we should’ve kept them. Being kind to others just invites trouble.”
“The prince favors Anle Pavilion alone. Our lady feels some guilt toward the concubine. She knows the concubine isn’t easy to deal with, yet still chooses to be polite. However the concubine interprets it—that’s her own problem.”
Qiuxiang giggled. “Sister Fangcao, you really are your lady’s mirror image. The way you speak—it’s exactly how she’d say it! I can even picture her tone and expression.”
“You little imp,” Fangcao laughed, tapping her on the forehead.
Just then, a little maid called from outside, “The prince has arrived!”
“My lord.”
Both women hastily set down their sewing and hurried to the door. Lin Zhuo entered with his usual composed air. “Where’s your mistress? I heard she brought back something special from the countryside?”
“Nothing special—just some local produce. But Her Ladyship likes it very much.”
Fangcao spoke softly. Lin Zhuo raised an eyebrow. “Perfect. Tonight’s dinner is settled then. I’ll eat here and try some of your local specialties.”
“Ah?”
Fangcao froze. At that moment, Ruan Mianmian emerged from the inner room, wearing a simple cotton robe, her long hair loose over her shoulders like smooth silk. Her face was bare of makeup—plain and natural.
“I was chatting with my mother in the countryside and got tired. I lay down for a while and must’ve fallen asleep without realizing it.”
She yawned and bowed gracefully. “My lord, why have you come so early today?”
Lin Zhuo was speechless. “Early? The sun’s already set.”
“Really? I slept that long?” She peeked outside, then stuck out her tongue playfully. “Ah, I see. I’m doomed—I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
Lin Zhuo lowered his gaze. The maids didn’t notice anything odd about her words, but he understood perfectly.
When Qiuxiang and Fangcao left to fetch tea and snacks, Lin Zhuo and Ruan Mianmian sat together on the couch. He leaned closer and said quietly, “Don’t worry. I’ve been resting well these past two nights.”
“Pfft!” Ruan Mianmian burst out laughing. She gave him a thumbs-up and whispered, “My lord’s learning fast.”
Lin Zhuo coughed and straightened, regaining his usual dignity.
Xile, standing nearby, lowered his head. I heard nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Still, he couldn’t help being a little surprised. His master was usually so stern, yet around Ruan Mianmian, he seemed completely different. No wonder he hadn’t visited the concubine’s quarters once while the princess was away. That saying was right—once you’ve seen the ocean, no other waters compare.
“My lord, your timing’s perfect. I brought back lots of fresh river produce and vegetables from the countryside. They’re already in the kitchen being prepared. Tonight, you can enjoy a real feast.”
“What kind of vegetables? Wild greens?”
“The wild greens are the best! There’s also the first cut of spring leeks—so tender and fragrant! And young spinach leaves. It’s a pity we didn’t find any sweet potatoes. I thought with the size of your manor estate, surely there’d be some.”
“That crop mostly came from overseas. Here in Daxia, no one grows it. No matter how delicious it sounds, farmland is a farmer’s lifeline. Who would risk a year’s yield planting something uncertain? What if it doesn’t grow well—or doesn’t sell? Even a landlord wouldn’t take that gamble.”
“I understand. Just wait, my lord. Once I manage to grow them myself, you’ll be amazed—and then we’ll spread them throughout the land.”
Ruan Mianmian nodded confidently. Lin Zhuo then asked, “Since you brought so many vegetables back, why did you only send wild greens to Chuchu? You know she might not be used to them.”
“The rest went to the kitchen—she can eat them there. Only wild greens are special. Some people like them raw, dipped in sauce—so tender and crisp. Others prefer them blanched in hot water until soft. So I sent her wild greens alone, to let her prepare them however she likes.”
Then she raised a brow mischievously. “Wait—how does my lord know about this? Seems my thoughtful gesture wasn’t well received. The concubine doesn’t think I meant to insult her, does she?”
“Probably not,” Lin Zhuo replied. “Still… if she resents you for it, what will you do?”
“Well,” Ruan Mianmian said with a shrug, “here’s how I see it: as long as my conscience is clear, that’s enough. If she respects me, she won’t get angry over a few wild greens. If she does, then no matter what I do, she’ll still dislike me. I can’t control others—only live my own life properly.”
Lin Zhuo shook his head. “You’re not wrong, but that’s far too carefree.”
“What else should I do? The manor has enough troubles already—I barely have time to think about others’ moods.”
She reached over and gently clasped the hand he’d rested on the table. “As long as you know me and trust that I have a good heart, that’s enough. I’m not silver—I can’t expect everyone to like me.”
Lin Zhuo sighed. “I’ve never met someone who praises herself as shamelessly as you do.”
“Well, now you have.” Ruan Mianmian laughed out loud. “All right, my lord, let’s drop the subject. I’ll have them prepare the wild greens. Tonight, you and I can enjoy something fresh.”
(End of Chapter)