Ding Shao Ye’s full name is Ding Tianci.
Master Ding had numerous wives and concubines throughout his life, yet by middle age, he had only one son.
Unfortunately, this sole heir was short-lived. Not long after marrying, he fell off a cliff during an outing, and his body was never recovered.
His wife, who gave birth to their posthumous child, lingered on a sickbed and passed away within two years, leaving only Ding Tianci and Master Ding to rely on each other.
The Ding family possessed vast wealth and property, but their lineage was sparse and descendants few. In the eyes of others, they were a prime target.
With Ding Tianci critically ill and the Ding family lacking an heir, countless predators lurked in the shadows, eager to pounce and devour the entire Ding estate.
Ding Tianci was not only the heir to the Ding family but also Master Ding’s emotional anchor.
This was why Master Ding was willing to spare no expense, even at the cost of his own life, to ensure his grandson survived.
At this time, Sheng An was unaware of Ding Tianci’s significance to the Ding family. She was led by Master Ding to the courtyard where Ding Tianci resided.
At her first glimpse of Ding Tianci, Sheng An froze in shock.
In her previous life, the internet was widespread, and she had seen all kinds of people online. She had witnessed anorexia patients—a girl barely five feet tall, emaciated to just fifty pounds, a sight straight out of a horror film.
But Ding Tianci was even more terrifying than that girl. He was so gaunt he resembled a sheet of paper, his skeletal frame sinking into the bedding, barely recognizable as human.
His hair had fallen out completely, and his rugged facial contours made it impossible to discern his original appearance. Only his disproportionately large eyes stood out, appearing eerily unsettling.
Were it not for the faint rise and fall of his chest, Sheng An would have thought he was already gone.
Ding Tianci had not expected a stranger to appear before him. He could only turn his head slightly toward Master Ding and utter a feeble sound: “Get out… make her leave…”
Once a spirited young man, he could not bear anyone seeing him in this state—neither human nor ghost.
Master Ding’s eyes reddened. He hurried forward, knelt down, and tightly grasped his grandson’s icy hand:
“Tianci, she is someone Grandfather invited. The Wonton you ate yesterday was made by her. She has a way to help you eat. Please trust Grandfather one more time, alright? I beg you!”
Ding Tianci’s breath hitched. He stared blankly at Sheng An, and in his exaggeratedly large eyes, a faint glimmer of light seemed to flicker.
If given the chance to live like a normal person, who would willingly await death?
Sheng An needed to obtain the information she sought from him. She stepped forward and spoke softly:
“Ding Shao Ye, I cannot guarantee I can make you eat, but I hope, for the sake of your grandfather’s profound love for you, that you will cooperate with me.”
The room fell silent. Ding Tianci glanced at his grandfather, whose eyes were red, then at Sheng An, whose expression remained calm—devoid of pity, mockery, or disgust. Finally, he nodded: “…Alright.”
Master Ding wept with joy.
In the kitchen, a group of matrons and maids chatted and laughed together.
The Ding family had only two legitimate masters, yet there were swarms of servants. Each person only needed to fulfill their duties to receive a generous monthly wage.
The kitchen was a prime place for skimming profits. The precious ingredients that the masters could not finish consuming were not only devoured freely by the servants but also secretly taken out of the estate to be sold for money.
By the end of the year, the extra earnings they pocketed were several times more than their monthly wages.
Such a good job—they wished they could keep it for life.
Just as the group was chatting animatedly, a young maid rushed in, sweating profusely: “Bad news! Steward Yang has hired a new head chef! He says from now on we all have to take orders from the new chef!”
At these words, the matrons and maids were shocked. They rose one after another, staring at the young maid with alarm and suspicion.
The kitchen matron grabbed the young maid and demanded fiercely, “Where did you hear this? Did you hear it with your own ears?”
The young maid, frightened and pale, stammered, “I… I heard it from Changfu, who serves by Master Ding’s side. Changfu’s words are always reliable.”
Changfu was Master Ding’s trusted attendant, representing him in delivering instructions externally.
The kitchen matron released her grip, her expression shifting uncertainly.
Could it be that her theft and sale of the kitchen’s valuable ingredients had been discovered?
At this thought, the kitchen matron grew so anxious she began pacing in circles on the spot.
Seeing this, the others also grew fearful, clearly having the same suspicion as the kitchen matron.
Master Ding was generous to his servants, but he was by no means soft-hearted.
Previously, someone had been caught stealing and selling goods from the warehouse. Master Ding had them dragged out, beaten half to death, and that wasn’t all—he also sent people to confiscate their property and finally sold them off to the Northwest Mines as laborers, with no hope of ever returning alive.
The more they thought about it, the more terrified they became, trembling with fear and at a loss for what to do.
Just then, Steward Yang’s voice came from outside: “Sheng Niang Zi, this is the kitchen. If you need anything, just instruct the kitchen staff to procure it.”
Hearing this, the kitchen matron turned deathly pale, her last shred of hope vanishing.
Sheng An followed Steward Yang into the kitchen and saw a group of people standing frozen in the room, staring at her as if they’d seen a ghost. She was momentarily baffled.
Steward Yang also noticed the odd behavior of the crowd and immediately scowled, scolding, “What are you all standing around for? Come quickly and greet Sheng Niang Zi!”
At this, everyone exchanged confused glances.
What did Steward Yang mean? Weren’t they going to be beaten, have their homes confiscated, and be sold to the mines as laborers?
The kitchen matron was the first to react. She quickly stepped forward and smiled obsequiously at Sheng An: “Sheng Niang Zi, I’m in charge of the kitchen. Since we’ll be working together from now on, just give us your orders whenever you need anything!”
The others breathed silent sighs of relief and stepped forward one by one, smiling as they greeted Sheng An.
Sheng An glanced at them and said cheerfully, “No need for orders. I was just hired by Master Ding to cook for Ding Shao Ye. I’ll be going home after I finish.”
So she was just another cook hired by the master for the young master, not here to steal their jobs.
The kitchen matron’s heart, which had been pounding with anxiety, instantly settled back into place, and her smile became more genuine: “Since you’ve been specially invited by the master, we will certainly cooperate fully.”
Steward Yang gave a few instructions, exchanged a brief word with Sheng An, and then hurried off to attend to other matters.
Sheng An entered the kitchen, looked around, and said to the kitchen matron following her: “I need millet and old pumpkin. I wonder if the manor has any.”
The kitchen matron was taken aback for a moment, then nodded repeatedly: “Yes, yes, I’ll fetch them for you right away.”
With that, she ordered a young maid to retrieve the millet and old pumpkin from the storeroom.
For the affluent and influential Ding family, these two ingredients were far too common and rarely used in their meals. However, the kitchen kept some in stock for occasional porridge or pastry preparations.
Soon, a young maid brought millet and an old pumpkin.
Sheng An grabbed a handful of millet and sniffed it, confirming it was well-preserved without mold, then scooped a small spoonful into a large bowl and instructed the maid to wash it thoroughly.
Next, she picked up a kitchen knife and cut open the top of the pumpkin.
Seeing the deep golden-yellow cross-section and inhaling the pumpkin’s unique sweet aroma, Sheng An nodded in satisfaction and sliced off a palm-sized piece.
At this point, the stewardess understood what Sheng An intended to make and seemed hesitant to speak.
In the past, every renowned chef hired by the mansion would meticulously select ingredients, striving to employ all their culinary skills and gather delicacies from land, sea, and air to create extraordinary dishes that could move heaven and earth.
Unlike this Sheng Niang Zi, who merely chose common ingredients like millet and pumpkin—hardly fitting for the young master’s status.
Moreover, millet pumpkin porridge was so simple—she could make it herself!
Was this woman really not here to swindle the Ding family?
Ignoring the stewardess’s suspicious gaze, Sheng An focused intently on peeling the pumpkin and removing its seeds.
Millet pumpkin porridge—pure, natural, harmless, delicious, and nutritious.
Ding Tianci’s digestive system was nearly non-functional, his stomach and intestines extremely fragile, unable to handle high-fat or high-protein foods.
Millet pumpkin porridge, being oil-free, salt-free, easy to digest and absorb with no allergy risks, was currently the most suitable food for Ding Tianci.