Playing with mud figurines in the courtyard, Little Yun’s eyes lit up the moment she heard the words “rice cakes.” She cheered delightedly, “Hooray! Grandmother loves rice cakes the most!”
Mrs. Cui gave an embarrassed, gentle laugh.
Lin Yuhe’s mother, Lady Fang, had been a skilled hand at making rice cakes—soft, fragrant, and delicious. Every time she steamed a fresh batch, she would send some over to their home. Ever since Lady Fang passed away, Mrs. Cui had not tasted them. Her own culinary skills were modest, and fearing she would waste precious rice, she never dared to try making them herself.
Looking at Yuhe now, Mrs. Cui’s gaze softened considerably. “You truly are thoughtful,” she murmured. “Go fetch some water and wash the rice. I’ll turn the millstone.”
Mindful of the child Yuhe was carrying, Mrs. Cui refused to let her handle the heavy labor.
The sticky rice had just been dried in the sun, so it required no lengthy soaking. They fed it directly onto the stone mill, grinding it into a smooth rice paste. After stirring in frosted sugar and yeast starter, they left the batter to ferment for two hours before transferring it over a roaring fire to steam.
The two women worked straight through until noon before the first batch was finally ready. Yuhe sliced off two tender pieces and handed them to Little Yun and Mrs. Cui to taste, while she stayed by the hearth to steam the second pot.
Little Yun had eaten nothing but zongzi for the past two days. Biting into the warm, pillowy, subtly sweet rice cake, she squealed happily, “It’s so good!”
Even Mrs. Cui wore a satisfied smile. Yet, seeing the large quantity left over, a wave of regret washed over her. “Yuhe, one batch is more than enough for our family. You’ve ground far too much. In hot, humid weather like this, whatever we can’t finish will spoil.”
Yuhe, however, had already thought ahead. “Mother, what we can’t finish, I intend to sell at the marketplace,” she replied smoothly. “Yesterday when I passed through the market, I noticed vendor cakes made of broomcorn millet were selling for three copper coins each. Ours are made of fine sticky rice—pure, soft, and snow-white. We can easily fetch five coins a piece. Once this second batch is done, I’ll head straight out.”
Mrs. Cui froze, wondering if her ears were playing tricks on her. In the past, whenever she had asked Lin Yuhe to sell their surplus eggs at the market, the girl had refused, claiming it was beneath her dignity. Now, she was offering to sell rice cakes on her own initiative.
A wave of quiet relief washed over Mrs. Cui’s heart. Turning around, she caught sight of Xie Shuhuai, who had returned unannounced and was standing in the courtyard. His gaze drifted toward the kitchen—he had clearly overheard every word.
“Shuhuai, you’re back!” Mrs. Cui called out warmly. “Quickly, come taste the rice cakes we made.”
Yuerong Court, The Li Manor
Manager Li stormed into Li Yunluo’s quarters, his face dark with rage. The moment he crossed the threshold, he barked at the handmaidens to clear the room, shooing them out like stray birds.
The sudden outburst startled Lady Wen and her daughter, Li Yunluo, making both women flinch over their embroidery.
“Your brother tells me you turned away the Zhou family’s matchmaker again today!” Master Li spat.
The Zhou family were wealthy merchants in Xuyang whose business reached all the way to the capital. Better yet, Young Master Zhou held a scholarly title, having just passed the county examinations as a xiucai this very year. Countless prominent families in Xuyang longed to marry their daughters into the Zhou household, only to be spurned. Yet recently, Yunluo’s reputation in Xuyang had grown so renowned that the Zhou family took the initiative to propose—bypassing the Li family’s legitimate daughters entirely, specifically demanding the hand of Yunluo, a mere concubine’s child.
To the Li family, this match was a grand step up the social ladder. How could Master Li not be furious?
Seeing her husband in such a rage, Lady Wen felt a wave of dread. She opened her mouth to make an excuse for her daughter, but Master Li cut her off with a sharp glare. “I didn’t ask you. Let her speak!”
Because of her daughter’s recent success in earning a substantial income for the household, Lady Wen had gained considerable face in the manor. But under Master Li’s harsh rebuke, she shrank back into her shell, sitting meekly without daring to utter another word.
Yunluo calmly set down her embroidery frame. She poured a cup of cooled tea and presented it to her father with gentle composure.
“Father,” she said softly, “the reason Young Master Zhou chose me is precisely because he sees my talent for business.”
“If I marry into their family, I will have to serve the Zhou household’s interests. They run their own clothing shops, after all,” Li Yunluo reasoned smoothly. “Wouldn’t that make us direct competitors with the Li family business? If I marry him, should I help my husband’s family or my father’s?”
Master Li froze, her words striking right at his core concern. He had completely overlooked that point.
The fire in his chest dissolved by half, though his bitterness over her obsession with Xie Shuhuai remained sharp. “I think that boy has cast a spell on you,” he grumbled. “On what was supposed to be your wedding day, he brought disgrace upon our entire family. Then, when he came to apologize, he actually had the audacity to call off the engagement! I didn’t even disdain him for being dirt-poor, yet he acts so high and mighty—and you still pine after him! He doesn’t hold you in his heart at all.”
Noticing her father’s tone soften, Yunluo seized the chance to win him over, stepping up to knead his shoulders and massage his legs.
“Father, please don’t be angry,” she purred. “Brother Shuhuai only did it because he didn’t want to drag me down, nor did he want me to become a laughingstock. He simply wants to give me time to think things through. If I had married into his household that day under those circumstances, whether I ended up a proper wife or a concubine would be hard to say—and you would have found that even harder to swallow, wouldn’t you? He thoroughly despises that Lin woman now. If not for the child in her belly, he wouldn’t even let her step foot inside the Xie home.”
Master Li was no fool, however, and pressed on, “What is so special about Xie Shuhuai? Aside from a passable face, he’s saddled with a child now too, yet he still has you so spellbound.”
“Father, you promised me that if I helped you and Big Brother build the family business, you wouldn’t stand in the way of my marriage,” she countered gently.
Unwilling to dwell on the subject, she swiftly pivoted. “Father, remember those summer gowns where I had the embroiderers stitch various snacks and fruits? Brother mentioned that batch sold exceptionally well. But we shouldn’t limit ourselves to just one style. I’ve drawn up a whole new set of designs featuring delicate jewelry and adorable animals. I want Mother to test if they are easy to embroider.”
Yunluo had checked her secret dimension—an endless vault of diverse patterns stood ready at her disposal. In the Jin Dynasty, where clothing motifs were traditional and rigid, these fresh, whimsical elements were decades ahead of their time, perfectly primed to catch the eye of women everywhere. What woman could resist fine jewelry, sweet treats, or adorable creatures? She had targeted their exact desires.
Sure enough, whenever these items hit the market, rave reviews followed, and entire stocks sold out in a day or two.
Thinking of their recent profits, Master Li beamed so widely his eyes crinkled into slits. “It seems your father misjudged you! My Yunluo truly is brilliant. I won’t interfere in your marriage anymore—just make sure you keep assisting your elder brother.”
After lunch, Lin Yuhe packed up the warm rice cakes and prepared to set off for the marketplace. Mrs. Cui insisted on seeing her off to the edge of the village, leaving only Xie Shuhuai and Little Yun at home.
With her hair hanging loose and a mud figurine clutched in her small hand, Little Yun trotted into Xie Shuhuai’s room.
“Uncle, smell me! Do I smell nice today?”
Earlier, Yuhe had noticed the child scratching her head, so she had taken it upon herself to wash Little Yun’s hair and body.
Xie Shuhuai closed the book in his lap, his expression softening into a mild smile. “You smell very nice.”
Little Yun giggled softly and bolted out of the room. Moments later, she returned as if holding a sacred treasure: a brand-new bar of scented soap.
To save money, Mrs. Cui had always used plain honeylocust pods. Little Yun had only ever heard of scented soap from others; having a real bar of her own filled her with unbridled joy.
“Look, Uncle! It’s sweet osmanthus scented!” she chirped proudly. “Auntie bought it for me. She said now that I’m growing up, this bar is just for me to use! She bought some for Grandmother and you, too—they’re sitting right in Grandmother’s room.”
Xie Shuhuai’s tightly pressed lips relaxed slightly. His gaze turned inward, his expression a unreadable mix of emotions.
Little Yun was a chatterbox by nature, and even in front of her silent, taciturn uncle, she never held back her joy.
“Every time I used to grab Auntie Yunluo’s hand, she would push me away and wipe her sleeve afterward,” the child added thoughtfully. “She must have disliked how I smelled. But now that I smell all sweet, Auntie Yunluo will like me and let me hold her hand, right?”
Xie Shuhuai froze, staring at her in silence for a very long time.