Madam Zhou shot her a glare. “If you didn’t talk, no one would mistake you for a mute!”
Madam Kong glanced around and spoke up, “Why isn’t Madam Zhao here? Madam He isn’t here either?”
Madam Song replied, “I heard Madam Zhao and Master Zhao had a big argument last night over taking a concubine! She probably won’t be coming out today. As for Madam He, although she isn’t here, she sent her maid early this morning. The maid just left after seeing the shop was still closed.”
In this era, women relied on their husbands for survival, and their husband’s favor was everything.
Hearing yesterday on the boat ride that Master Zhao was preparing to bring a new woman into the household, even though it wasn’t happening to them personally, they couldn’t help but feel a shared sorrow and anxiety for themselves.
These ladies had been trying to please Madam Wang over the past few days, all for the intoxicatingly fragrant soap she used.
Upon hearing last night that her soap was bought from this grocery store, how could they possibly let such an opportunity slip by?
“But it’s already this late. Why isn’t the shop open yet?” Madam Deng looked at the tightly shut wooden door.
She was young, newly married, and currently in favor, so she didn’t strictly need it.
However, she was obsessed with fragrances, which is why she had come.
Madam Song fanned herself leisurely. “I came early and heard from the nearby villagers that this shopkeeper is unlike ordinary shopkeepers—they open based entirely on their mood. If they’re in a good mood, they might open for half a day; if they’re in a bad mood, they might not open for ten days or even half a month.”
“Ah?” Madam Deng’s face fell. “Then did we come all this way for nothing? Won’t we be able to buy the fragrant soap?”
They had all come for the fragrant soap and made no attempt to hide it.
“I heard Sister Wang knows this shopkeeper. Could it be that she told them not to sell to us?” Madam Deng’s thoughts were simple.
Madam Zhou spoke disdainfully, “Merchants value profit above all. If you offer more money, they’ll sell. These low-class folk—do you think they would keep their doors closed and refuse business?”
Madam Song frowned and glared at her—her family were merchants themselves.
“Madam Zhou, you’re standing at the shop’s doorstep right now. Please mind your words. If you offend the shopkeeper and they refuse to sell to you, that’s your problem. Don’t drag us down with you!” She still wanted to buy the fragrant soap.
Madam Zhou cleared her throat. Since the shop wasn’t open, there was no need for her to linger.
“They’re just some country goods. Are they really worth all of you rushing here? Never mind. I’m afraid using them might cause issues. I’ll just go buy from Xiangbao Pavilion.”
After speaking, she didn’t even glance at the others. Supported by her maid, she got into her carriage and drove off.
Madam Song watched her departing figure and muttered resentfully,
“Putting on such airs! She was practically drooling over it, yet she still acts all high and mighty!”
The remaining three ladies chatted idly and wandered around the area for a while.
By noon, the shop still hadn’t opened, so they had no choice but to leave dejectedly.
Jiang Ling, deep in slumber, naturally had no idea that just selling a few bars of fragrant soap had drawn the noblewomen of Ping’an County to her door.
Evening descended, with cooking smoke curling up from the village chimneys.
The setting sun and lonely birds flew together, the scene perfectly serene.
Jiang Yi was stationed under the shade of a tree as usual.
Villagers passing by greeted him.
“Young man, you’re here again!”
“Brother Zhao, hello! What can I do? My horse just loves grazing in this area—won’t eat anywhere else! What a headache!”
Over the past few days of frequent visits, he had grown familiar with the nearby villagers.
The day before yesterday, Aunt Zhao at the end of the village lost her sheep—Jiang Yi helped her find it.
Yesterday, Uncle Chen at the village entrance had a leaky roof—Jiang Yi helped patch it.
Today, Aunt Qian’s dog had a difficult labor and couldn’t deliver her puppies—Jiang Yi… helped bury her.
That dog meat, no, that mutton was really fragrant!
However, there was an additional figure in the shade today.
Cheng Fang squatted under the tree, slurping a steaming bowl of meat stew.
“How much Sichuan pepper did you put in this?! It’s killing me!”
Despite his words, Cheng Fang’s hand holding the chopsticks never paused for a moment.
“If you can’t handle it, don’t eat it!” Jiang Yi also slurped noisily.
After eating and drinking their fill, the two leaned against the tree trunk to rest.
The sun had completely set, and stars began to dot the sky.
Jiang Yi gazed worriedly at the tightly shut wooden door.
“Do you think this shopkeeper is human or ghost?”
Cheng Fang rolled his eyes at him. “Why don’t you catch a ghost and show me?”
“Haven’t you seen the shopkeeper before? What does she look like?”
“Looks human!”
Jiang Yi was puzzled.
“You said the shopkeeper is a girl of seventeen or eighteen—that’s common enough. The shopkeeper opens haphazardly, not worrying about making a living—fine, let’s leave that aside. Even in times of scarcity, she casually gives away whole bags of pastries and fine rice—also fine! The key is, she actually has ‘miracle pills’ that can ‘bring the dead back to life’! And, most surprisingly, this shopkeeper once saved His Highness!”
Cheng Fang was growing impatient. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
“Don’t you think that when you connect all these things together… you start to have other thoughts?”
“You’re just narrow-minded! Making a fuss over nothing!” Cheng Fang pulled out a dried piece of foxtail grass, took out the lighter from his pocket, lit it, and used it to drive away the mosquitoes around.
“The shopkeeper said from the very beginning that her father was a merchant who traveled far and wide. It’s not uncommon for a traveling merchant to have a few life-saving medicines, right? Giving away pastries and grain—that’s just her kindness. Saving His Highness—that was a coincidence. I told you not to read so many storybooks!”
The moment Jiang Yi saw the black, cold-gleaming lighter, he completely forgot what he was about to say.
“Hey, let me borrow that black fire starter of yours!”
Over the past few days, Cheng Fang had been in charge of lighting fires. Although the military had ample fire starters in stock, Cheng Fang still occasionally brought his out to show off.
Initially, hearing it was just an iron fire starter, Jiang Yi hadn’t paid much attention. But after seeing Cheng Fang use it in person, he realized just how amazing it was. With just a light press, a thumb-sized flame could be produced anytime, anywhere, and he heard it could even withstand wind. When the lid was closed, it was waterproof and moisture-resistant.
For someone in the military, this was almost too convenient!
Jiang Yi was itching to get his hands on one.
“No way! I only have this one—I wouldn’t even give it to my own father!”
Zhao Jingxing’s lighter had already been handed over to the Crown Prince.
He had to protect this one.
“Stingy!” Jiang Yi glanced at the wooden door. “When the shop opens, I’ll buy a better one for myself!”
But after so many days of suspicion, he was starting to wonder if the shopkeeper would ever open again.
Jiang Ling was exhausted, but she hadn’t slept well.
She had nightmares—dreams of her father struggling in the fire, dreams of injured workers grabbing her, begging her to save them.
She woke up startled and couldn’t fall back asleep.
After a simple wash, she counted yesterday’s earnings.
She took the ancient-style clothing from the dryer and changed into it.
Opening the wooden door, she found it was already bright outside.
Roughly calculating, during the time she was away, two and a half days had passed in this world.
The morning mist slowly dissipated, leaving a slight coolness in the air.
Seeing no customers around, Jiang Ling picked out a pack of nearly expired instant noodles and headed to the kitchen to cook them.
“Long time no see! Shopkeeper.”