Qingqing drew a bucket of water from the well and poured some into a basin to wash her hands.
She unloaded the beef, roast chicken, flatbread, and soy milk from the cart.
After arranging the food, she returned to the cart, took out two sets of bowls, chopsticks, and spoons, washed them several times, and carried them inside.
“The sun’s a bit strong at noon. Let’s eat indoors.”
As she spoke, she walked over to Lin Heng and helped him to his feet.
Lin Heng didn’t resist. Leaning lightly against her for support, he slowly made his way to the table in the main room.
“Try this roast chicken. I asked around and bought it from the most famous cooked-food shop in town.”
She picked up a chicken drumstick with her chopsticks and placed it into Lin Heng’s bowl.
Lin Heng picked up his chopsticks and carefully took small bites from the drumstick.
Qingqing noticed that the man ate in complete silence. He patiently tore off each bite and chewed slowly, every movement graceful and refined. He was nothing like the rough household servants she’d seen in the manor, who stuffed their mouths full, smacked their lips noisily, and occasionally shouted in the middle of a meal.
She liked people with good manners.
Even watching them eat was pleasing to the eye.
Feeling her burning gaze fixed on him, Lin Heng grew slightly uncomfortable and gave a soft cough.
“Eat slowly. Here, have some soy milk.”
She poured him over half a bowl.
It’s your own fault, woman, Lin Heng grumbled inwardly. Staring at a man like that without the slightest shame.
“After lunch, I’ll tidy up the house, set up the new cooking pots, and render some lard. Tonight, let’s make meat buns! We’ll use the pork cracklings and shredded radish for the filling. You’ll have to taste my cooking.”
Over the past few days, Qingqing had already grown accustomed to talking to herself in front of this cold, silent man.
Trying to get even the slightest expression out of him was harder than reaching the heavens.
He was like a block of ice.
Sometimes Lin Heng thought the woman was unbearably talkative, as if she had an endless supply of things to say. At other times, he couldn’t help wondering which noble family she came from. She was beautiful, elegant, and carried herself with effortless grace—she looked every bit the daughter of a prominent household.
Then again…
At times he also felt she was unbelievably shameless—thick-skinned, flirtatious, and utterly without embarrassment.
If Qingqing had known what the man across from her was thinking, she would have climbed right on top of him and torn his mouth apart.
After lunch, she cleaned up, then helped Lin Heng outside and settled him into a chair beneath the eaves. She tucked a thin blanket behind his back so the chair wouldn’t press against his wound.
Next, she carefully carried the two large iron pots down from the cart.
“They’re so heavy…”
She waddled toward the kitchen with them, swaying like a duck under their weight.
Lin Heng instinctively wanted to stand and help.
But the moment he straightened up, searing pain tore through the wound on his back.
Forget it.
If his wound split open, the one who’d have to suffer would still be that woman. She’d only have to clean and bandage him all over again.
Still…
She’s really not very bright.
Why didn’t she simply drive the cart right up to the kitchen door? Running back and forth like that—if she gets exhausted, it’ll be entirely her own doing.
All chest, no brains…
…Chest?
Why did I suddenly think about her chest?
Lin Heng! You’ve become depraved.
Shameless… Your thoughts aren’t pure anymore…
At long last, Qingqing finished unloading the cart.
She collapsed onto the stone bench beneath the peach tree in the courtyard, breathing heavily.
Seeing that the afternoon was slipping away, she rested for a while before drawing water to wash all the pots, pans, bowls, and utensils. She then seasoned both of the new iron woks with pork fat.
One pot was set to boil water.
The other was used to render lard.
She scalded the bowls, plates, chopsticks, and spoons with hot water, left them to dry, then neatly stored them in the kitchen cabinet.
The cabinet had been purchased from a carpenter in town.
Besides the kitchen cabinet, she had also bought a wardrobe, a storage chest, and a jewelry box.
Altogether, she’d spent one and a half taels of silver that day.
Yet as she looked around at the now fully furnished house, Qingqing felt, for the very first time, what it meant to have a home.
It felt wonderful.
She finally had a home of her own.
She would never again have to fear punishment from her masters.
Never again worry about being sold away.
From now on, she would no longer have to live by other people’s moods or spend every day in fear and anxiety.
She took out a wooden mixing bowl, scooped in a ladleful of white flour, added a little rice wine and sugar, then slowly poured in warm water while stirring with chopsticks. Once the dough formed into shaggy flakes, she kneaded it by hand.
She worked it until it became smooth and elastic, then covered the bowl with a bamboo lid and left it to rise.
The lard had already finished rendering.
Golden-brown cracklings floated on the surface of the oil. Qingqing scooped them out with a slotted spoon into a large bowl to drain before taking out a ceramic lard jar.
She placed a few Sichuan peppercorns and a pinch of fine salt at the bottom of the clean jar, then ladled the hot lard into it one spoonful at a time.
Wrapping the jar in thick cotton cloth, she set it on the counter to cool.
She took out the radishes, scallions, and ginger she’d bought that morning, washed them thoroughly, shredded and chopped them, then set them aside.
After washing her hands again, she picked up the sickle she’d bought and began clearing the weeds along the western side of the courtyard.
Bent over, she steadily cut away at the overgrown grass.
It wasn’t unfamiliar work.
Back in the manor, she had always been responsible for caring for her young lady’s flowers and plants. She had even grown vegetables and melons herself. After all, her mistress had never been favored, so the two of them had often had to rely on themselves for many things.
Watching the busy figure in the courtyard, Lin Heng was astonished all over again.
Just moments ago he’d been convinced she must be the daughter of a wealthy family.
But what noble young lady could cook, wash clothes, weed the garden, and work the fields?
I’ve gone mad…
Who exactly is this woman?
Is there anything she can’t do?
For the first time, Lin Heng had to admit—
This woman was incredibly capable.
Before long, Qingqing had completely cleared the vegetable patch.
She transplanted the scallions and leafy greens she’d bought at the market into the freshly prepared beds, then fetched water to give them a good soaking.
Looking at the tidy little garden she had painstakingly prepared, she couldn’t have been more satisfied.
After sitting in the courtyard to rest for a while, she glanced at the sleeping man beneath the eaves and secretly grumbled under her breath.
“This useless man. Eat, sleep. Sleep, eat. And he still acts like he’s doing me a favor, putting on that cold face all day like some pampered young master. Just wait until your injuries heal—then we’ll see how I deal with you.”
The moment she thought of his injuries, she suddenly remembered.
His medicine!
She hurriedly got to her feet, took out the small medicine stove and the herbs, lit the fire, and slowly began brewing his medicine.
The dough in the kitchen had nearly finished rising.
After washing her hands, she began preparing the filling.
She mixed the shredded radish, chopped scallions, ginger, pork cracklings, salt, pepper, and a little lard until everything was evenly combined.
Then she took out the dough, kneaded out the air, divided it into evenly sized portions, rolled each into a thin wrapper with a rolling pin, and wrapped them into buns.
She lit the fire beneath one stove and filled the pot with water for steaming.
On the second stove, she put both brown rice and white rice into another pot to cook a pot of porridge.
When she had finished everything, she stepped out of the kitchen and saw that the man beneath the eaves had awakened.
Walking over, she sat beside him.
“The buns are all wrapped. Another fifteen minutes of steaming and we’ll be ready to eat.”
Lin Heng glanced at the woman before him.
Her face was slightly flushed from all the work, beads of sweat clinging to her forehead.
A faint smile rested on her lips.
She looked especially beautiful.
“You can drink your medicine after dinner, and then another bowl before bed. I’ve already cleaned up your room—the bedroom on the east side. It’s nice and bright. The bed’s a little far from the window, though. If you don’t feel like lying down during the day, come sit out in the courtyard and enjoy some sunshine.”
Qingqing lifted the steamed buns from the pot one by one into a bamboo basket.
She ladled out two bowls of rice porridge and served a small dish of pickled shredded radish.
Then she carried everything to the table beneath the eaves.
“Come eat! Do you need me to help you over?”
Without even waiting for his answer, she had already slipped an arm beneath his to support him.
“Take it slow. If you’ve been sitting too long, your legs are bound to feel numb.”
That night, lying alone in bed, Lin Heng suddenly felt strangely uncomfortable.
Had he really grown used to having that woman beside him after only a few short days?
In the darkness, his gaze slowly became distant and unfocused…
Meanwhile, after finishing her bath, Qingqing happily climbed into bed.
“Ah… this is wonderful. I finally get to have a bed all to myself again.”
Surrounded by the faint fragrance of medicinal herbs, she gradually drifted off to sleep.