Seeing her uncle lost in thought, Little Yun pressed on, “Uncle, am I right?”
Xie Shuhuai reached out and gently smoothed down the messy stray hair at the crown of her head. “No,” he denied softly. “You’re overthinking it. Auntie Yunluo brought you delicious treats precisely because she likes you. Nobody dislikes our Little Yun.”
With her clear, innocent eyes, Little Yun bore a striking resemblance to Shuhuai’s older sister, carrying faint traces of Mrs. Cui as well.
“That’s wonderful, then!” she chirped, her sweet voice bright with relief. “She gave me a fright—I really thought Auntie Yunluo didn’t like me.”
Hearing Mrs. Cui’s approaching footsteps, Little Yun scampered back out into the yard.
Shuhuai followed her out of the room, holding a bolt of soft, un-dyed cotton cloth in his hands. “Mother, I brought back the cotton.”
Knowing he was referring to the fabric meant for the child in Lin Yuhe’s belly, Mrs. Cui smiled warmly. “You child, rushing off to the county town so early this morning just for this fabric—since when did you grow so impatient? My grandchild hasn’t even reached four months in the womb yet; there’s plenty of time. I should stitch a pair of cloth shoes for you first. Look at the ones on your feet—they’re nearly worn through.”
Shuhuai was long accustomed to his mother’s gentle nagging. Suddenly, he pulled a pouch from his sleeve and offered it to her.
Mrs. Cui pulled back, unwilling to accept it. “Mother doesn’t need this. Keep the money for yourself.”
An imperceptible gravity flared deep within Shuhuai’s quiet eyes, but as he raised his head to face his mother, his expression smoothed back into its usual composure. “Mother, I must make a trip to the capital in two days. Do not mention this to anyone.”
Mrs. Cui’s chest tightened, her heart leaping straight into her throat. “You’re doing perfectly well here—what are you going to the capital for?”
Shuhuai preferred not to elaborate, brushing it off lightly. “To visit a former teacher of mine. If you encounter any trouble while I’m away, you can go to Changqing Bookstore to find Manager Liang, or head to Yunxiang Academy for Jinwen.”
A shadow of unease crept over Mrs. Cui. She grabbed his sleeve in a tight grip. “Shuhuai, are you hiding something from your mother? I’ve never heard you mention having a teacher in the capital.”
Warmth softened the depths of Shuhuai’s gaze as he sought to reassure her. “Mother, you needn’t worry. I am merely going to consult him regarding the imperial examinations.”
The County Town Marketplace
Lin Yuhe’s rice cakes were beautifully made, delicious, and fresh off the steamer. She had barely set up her stall at the market before a eager crowd swarmed her, buying out her entire inventory in no time.
Thirty pieces in total netted her one hundred and fifty copper coins.
Her very first venture into trade had gone so smoothly that her spirits soared. Shaking off her earlier fatigue, she walked with a light, swift step. Finding it was still early in the day, she considered dropping in to visit her elder brother and sister-in-law.
However, the intersection leading out of the market was completely jammed with donkey carts. Left with no choice, she halted and waited for the path to clear.
Around her, the roadside idle chatter drifted into her ears.
“Only the household of the Marquis of An’ning could put on such a grand display.”
“I heard they’ve invited every wealthy merchant and official across Xuyang County.”
“It won’t be long now. The Old Dowager’s birthday falls on the tenth of the fifth month—just three days away. It’s high time they started procuring supplies.”
Listening to the crowd exchange comments back and forth, Yuhe pieced together that these were the Marquis’s estate servants out buying goods for the Old Dowager’s birthday celebration.
In Xuyang County, the Marquis of An’ning’s household was a legendary power of wealth and prestige. The Marquis, originally surnamed Wei, was once a master tea merchant whose business spanned the entire Jin Dynasty. Later, after becoming royal suppliers, the eldest daughter of the Wei family caught the Emperor’s eye and was elevated to the rank of imperial consort. The family was subsequently granted a hereditary title of nobility, securing their place as a noble house.
When the matriarch of such a distinguished family reached her seventieth birthday, the household would naturally spare no effort or expense.
As the onlookers chatted with vibrant excitement, Yuhe found herself recalling events from her past life.
The Marquis’s estate had hired an entire theatrical troupe for the occasion. Yet, because the expected guests were far too numerous for their private stage to hold, the kind-hearted Old Dowager insisted on sharing the performance with the common folk. In the end, they moved the grand stage out to the abandoned military training grounds in the south of the city.
Yuhe recalled that the troupe had performed for two whole days, drawing crowds so immense they formed a veritable sea of people.
Back then, she had gone with Concubine Qu. Though the show had been spectacular, both of them had ended up severely sunburnt, seeing stars from the heat, and racing home to gulp down massive cups of cooled tea to quench their burning thirst. Just a few days after that event, Min Zheyuan had taken her life.
Even as Yuhe lamented her fate in that past life, a stroke of inspiration struck her mind—a brilliant scheme to earn silver. As of now, no one else knew that the Old Dowager would move the grand performance out to the training grounds in the south of the city.
Flushed with excitement, she slipped away down a side alley toward her elder brother’s shop to make extensive preparations.
By the time she returned to the Xie household, night had nearly fallen. She handed Mrs. Cui one hundred copper coins from her rice cake sales, keeping only fifty for herself. If she wanted to make and sell snacks in the future, she would need Mrs. Cui’s full backing.
Seeing how much Yuhe had changed for the better, Mrs. Cui accepted the money with a joyful heart. Exhausted from running about all day, Yuhe turned in early to rest.
The next morning, Yuhe woke up energized as if injected with fresh life. After breakfast, she took Little Yun up into the hills to gather honeysuckle blossoms. In the fifth lunar month, wild honeysuckle bloomed in golden and white profusion across the slopes.
Assuming Yuhe intended to sell the blossoms to an apothecary, Mrs. Cui helped spread the harvest onto bamboo winnowing trays in the courtyard to dry.
For two days straight, Little Yun trailed behind Yuhe, scrambling across the hills until her little cheeks flushed bright red. Seeing this, Yuhe harvested a bundle of cattail grass, planning to weave a sunhat to protect the child from the heat.
When Little Yun heard the news, her excitement bubbled over, fueling her enthusiasm even further.
Once home, Yuhe measured the circumference of Little Yun’s head and set to work weaving the cattail stalks. It was a craft she had picked up in childhood from the workers in her family’s shop. Not only could she weave sturdy sunhats, but she could also fashion intricate patterns and figures onto them.
Half an hour later, the hat was complete—topped with a charming, chubby little woven puppy.
Little Yun adored it beyond words. Perched on her head, she proudly paraded it in front of Mrs. Cui and Xie Shuhuai.
Yet the moment Shuhuai’s gaze landed on the woven puppy atop the hat, his face darkened into a deep scowl. He slammed his carrying pole onto the ground with a heavy crash.
The sudden blast of noise left both Little Yun and Yuhe rooted to the spot in shock.
“Are you doing all of this just to compete with someone else?” Shuhuai demanded coldly.
A sharp, searing pain pierced Yuhe’s chest. She had no idea what he meant. Gripped by a wave of distress, her eyes welled up with red. Scared silent, Little Yun scampered off into the kitchen to hide.
“I don’t care what your motive is,” Shuhuai added, his tone unyielding. “I advise you not to waste your breath.”
Deeply hurt, Yuhe desperately wanted to defend herself, but not a single word could squeeze past the lump in her throat. Tears spilled over her lashes, streaming down her hot cheeks.
It took a long moment before she finally found her voice. “I merely wove a simple straw hat for Little Yun, and you accuse me of trying to compete?”
She swallowed a bitter breath, her voice trembling. “The year of our wedding, didn’t I weave one for you as well? I even specially fashioned your zodiac animal on it. That hat only broke last year before you finally threw it away! What could I possibly be plotting? I know I was wrong in the past. I just want to treat you well—to treat this family well. In the past, every little thing I did for you, you remembered clearly. Now that you have someone else in your heart, everything is different.”
Overwhelmed with heartbreak, Yuhe turned on her heel and fled to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
Shuhuai stood frozen beside the water jar, his expression a turbulent, unreadable mask.
Mrs. Cui understood the thorn festering in her son’s heart, yet she had no idea how to intercede. Little Yun, who had rarely seen her uncle fly into such a rage, shrank fearfully behind Mrs. Cui’s skirts, still clutching her new straw hat tightly in her little hands.
Mrs. Cui expected that Yuhe would react as she always had after a quarrel with Shuhuai—either storming off back to her maiden home or staying bedridden in protest.
To her surprise, Yuhe emerged from the west room only a short while later. Carrying her basket, she headed back up the mountain to pick more honeysuckle, persisting for three straight days.
On the tenth day of the fifth month, before the first dawn light broke over the horizon, A’Zhu—a shop hand sent by Yuhe’s elder brother, Lin Yuping—arrived at the Xie residence in an ox cart to take her into the county town.