The moon shone bright through the thinning clouds, and the night was still. After a long day of work, Ye Jia finished a hasty dinner and prepared for bed.
Madam Yu had locked the courtyard gate early and retired to her own room with Rui’er. In this era, entertainment was a luxury the poor could not afford; they didn’t even have a book to pass the time. Left with no other choice, Ye Jia stood awkwardly by the window of the east room, her gaze meeting Zhou Jingchen’s as he sat on the edge of the bed.
On the wooden table, the wick of the kerosene lamp crackled, the flame flickering slightly in the draft.
Although she and Zhou Jingchen had lived together for three months and were familiar with one another’s routines, sharing a bed remained a point of discomfort. No matter how naturally they interacted during the day, the nights were different.
However, Madam Yu was the head of the household. Since Ye Jia and Zhou Jingchen were husband and wife by parental decree, it was only right that they stayed together. Ye Jia couldn’t find a single reason to object to Madam Yu’s arrangements.
The oil lamp cast long, thin shadows against the walls. The dim, amber light hit Zhou Jingchen’s face, making his features look almost too handsome to be real.
Ye Jia wandered around the room, pretending to be busy, only to find that Madam Yu had already meticulously organized her belongings. Her clothes were right where she could find them, and her shoes were neatly paired. Madam Yu had even moved her money box into the east room.
She was officially out of excuses.
Ye Jia stole a glance at the silent Zhou Jingchen. Trying to break the ice in the cramped room, she finally spoke up.
“Husband, do you prefer to sleep on the inside or the outer side of the bed?”
With the two of them confined to a single room and the silence growing heavy, she felt she had to be the one to bridge the tension.
“As you wish.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Zhou Jingchen kept his gaze lowered, his long, dark lashes veiling whatever expression lay in his eyes. His voice was calm and steady, as if the situation didn’t affect him in the slightest. “If you want the inside, I will take the outside.”
His composed tone acted like a ladle of cold water over her flickering embarrassment, instantly dousing it.
It made sense, after all. She had forgotten that Zhou Jingchen had no interest in her. Although the original novel hadn’t mentioned it, Madam Yu had hinted that he had a childhood sweetheart back in Yanjing.
Realizing she had been overthinking things, Ye Jia felt a bit foolish.
She scratched her cheek awkwardly and firmly pushed her stray thoughts aside.
Since the weather had turned warm, Ye Jia had made a habit of bathing every night. It was a lingering routine from her previous life; she found it difficult to fall asleep without a hot bath. She had only briefly washed up outside earlier, so she would still need to bathe properly later.
It was still early, and with nothing else to do, Ye Jia decided to count the money she had earned over the past few weeks.
While she’d been too busy with her business to keep a precise tally, today’s expenses at the Ye family home had reminded her of the need for an accurate count. To restart her business tomorrow, she needed to know exactly how much capital she had left.
She opened her storage chest to reveal a collection of silver shards in various sizes. A few days ago, she had exchanged her heavy, space-consuming copper coins for silver. Adding back the two and a half taels she had taken out earlier that day, the total came to approximately thirty-four taels of silver.
There were also several strings of loose copper coins scattered in the chest.
Ye Jia was surprised to see how much she had left after subtracting her material costs and various daily expenses. Money was the ultimate cure-all, a distraction from any worry; as she counted, every other thought vanished from her mind.
Engrossed in her task, she didn’t notice the man sitting on the edge of the bed watching her.
Zhou Jingchen’s gaze was deep and unreadable, his face half-hidden in the dim light. The young woman leaned lazily against the table, her head slightly bowed. In the soft glow, her exposed skin was as fair as jade, complementing the elegant curve of her nose and her bright, striking features.
Normally, Zhou Jingchen would have maintained a disciplined, respectful distance. Yet, for some reason, his eyes wandered almost involuntarily from the slender line of her neck to the graceful silhouette of her figure.
Spring and summer garments were thin; even with two layers, they couldn’t fully conceal Ye Jia’s shapely figure. As she leaned over to count the money, the crossed collar of her robe loosened, folding back to reveal a glimpse of her delicate collarbones.
Zhou Jingchen’s thick lashes fluttered before he pointedly lowered his eyes, maintaining a sense of careful restraint.
After counting the sum twice—thirty-seven taels, six qian, and twenty-six copper coins—Ye Jia finally locked the chest, satisfied. She looked up and noticed the man by the bed was still staring down, seemingly lost in thought. A sudden realization struck her.
“Husband,” she said, her clear voice cutting through the silence. “Where did the money for your medicine come from today?”
His eyelashes trembled as he looked up to meet her gaze.
Ye Jia narrowed her eyes. “I thought you didn’t have any money?”
She propped her chin on one hand, her slender fingers tapping a rhythmic beat against the lid of the chest. The accusation in her tone was unmistakable. Seeing her with her chin tilted up, looking so haughty and self-assured, Zhou Jingchen felt an inexplicable urge to smile.
After a moment of silence, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver ingot. Judging by its size, it was at least twenty taels.
Ye Jia’s eyes widened. Zhou Jingchen slowly stood up and began walking toward her.
Ye Jia had always been aware of Zhou Jingchen’s height, but as he approached with his gaze locked onto her, his presence felt truly intimidating. Her nerves wound tight. She didn’t move, staring at him with a rigid intensity. He sat down beside her with an easy grace and set a stack of silver bullion before her.
“I pawned a personal item,” he explained. “I bought some books and stationery, and this is what remains.”
Ye Jia was startled. “What did you pawn that was worth so much?”
“A piece of jade I had no use for.”
It had been a stray thought, but Zhou Jingchen had answered her anyway. She looked at the silver pushed toward her hand, then glanced up at him, her lips twitching. “…For me?”
“Yes.”
There was a faint light in Zhou Jingchen’s eyes, a shimmering warmth that felt like ripples on water.
His voice was as clear as jade striking stone—composed and deliberate, yet strangely unsettling. “You run the house. It’s only right that you keep the silver.”
Ye Jia watched him with lingering suspicion.
“What is it?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to look at her.
“Nothing.”
Seeing that he looked sincere and wasn’t teasing her, Ye Jia tentatively reached for the silver. Her hand moved toward the bullion while her eyes remained fixed on his face, searching for a catch.
Her mix of greed and suspicion was so transparent that Zhou Jingchen couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.
Seeing him chuckle, Ye Jia’s face flushed with annoyance. She snatched up the stacks of silver, shoved them into her storage chest, and suddenly found her confidence.
“It’s only fair!” she declared. “I pay for your food, your clothes, the roof over your head, and even your medicine when you’re sick. You should be giving me your money!”
Zhou Jingchen nodded calmly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’re right. It is only fair.”
Ye Jia was left speechless.
Whatever, she decided. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like she was going to embezzle the money; she was simply keeping it for the household.
They had dithered long enough. Ye Jia glanced outside to find the night had turned pitch black, the kind of darkness where one couldn’t see their own hand in front of their face. After scanning the room, she eventually decided to shove the chest under the bed.
No one entered this room except the two of them, anyway. This was the capital for the family business; if it went missing, she would hold him responsible. Zhou Jingchen watched her acting so emboldened, his eyes dancing with silent laughter.
Once the chest was hidden, Ye Jia lifted the door curtain and headed to the kitchen. Madam Yu was well aware of her habit of bathing every night, so she had left a pot of hot water warming on the stove.
By the time Ye Jia returned to the room with a heavy bucket, Zhou Jingchen had already set out his writing materials. He sat at the table, one hand holding back his sleeve while the other guided a brush across the paper.
He stopped writing as soon as she entered. Always perceptive, Zhou Jingchen immediately gathered his things and stepped out of the room.
Ye Jia’s baths were quick; since she washed every day, there was little scrubbing to do. Before long, she had finished and cleared away the basins and buckets. After tossing the water outside, she returned to the main hall to find Zhou Jingchen sitting at the table, focused on his work once more.
As he painted, a quiet composure settled over him. Every movement revealed a refined, noble elegance etched into his very bones.
Ye Jia leaned in for a closer look. The shapes on the paper resembled a map of the Beiting Protectorate. Though Great Yan did not correspond to any specific period in ancient history, the geography of the continent was largely the same. Her heart sank slightly.
She had always known Zhou Jingchen wouldn’t be content to stay in this desolate, bitter land forever; sooner or later, he would return to Yanjing. If he was drawing this map, he must already have a plan. Suddenly, her interest vanished.
She returned the buckets to the kitchen, grabbed a cloth from the rack to dry her damp hair, and headed back to the east room with her tresses hanging loose.
Zhou Jingchen came in a while later, carrying a kerosene lamp. The light cast a soft glow over his handsome features. He was fastidious about cleanliness himself, bathing every few days. He must have washed in the kitchen, as his sideburns were damp and he carried the faint, cool scent of water.
Ye Jia hung the towel back on the rack and kicked off her shoes, rolling toward the inner side of the bed without ceremony.
She preferred sleeping against the wall; it was a long-standing habit that gave her a sense of security. Though the walls of this earthen hut were made of soil and would leave her covered in dust if she leaned too close, it was a hard habit to break.
There was only one thin quilt on the bed. Ye Jia glanced at the man standing by the bed with the lantern, then grabbed the blanket, wrapped herself in it, and prepared to sleep.
She lay there stiffly, but there was no sound from behind her. The room was so silent that she could hear the chorus of frogs croaking in the nearby bushes. Ye Jia closed her eyes, enduring the silence for a long while before finally snapping them open. She rolled over to face the man standing by the window.
“What is it?” she asked, her expression flat. “Why are you just standing there watching me instead of sleeping?”
The woman on the bed had undone her hair, letting the dark tresses spill across the mattress. As she lay on her side with a furrowed brow, her eyes shone like stars. Zhou Jingchen lowered his gaze and his lips curved slightly. Whatever he intended to say, he ultimately kept to himself.
With a nod, he placed the lantern on the wooden stool by the head of the bed. Under Ye Jia’s watchful glare, he methodically untied his belt, removed his outer robe, and climbed onto the bed.
Ye Jia watched him, a slight frown creasing her forehead. He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, yet she couldn’t shake a strange sense of oppression.
A crisp, pleasant scent of wood and herbs clung to Zhou Jingchen. As he climbed into bed, the faint, masculine aura radiating from him set Ye Jia’s nerves on edge. Though she wasn’t quite trembling, she felt an unmistakable sense of intimidation. He lay on the outer edge with his back to her, and she spent a long moment glaring at his spine with narrowed eyes before finally forcing herself to close them.
Zhou Jingchen shared the same pillow, his tall frame casting a shadow that seemed to swallow her whole in the dim light. After a moment, he shifted.
The wooden bed in the east room hadn’t seemed small when Ye Jia was alone, but with him there, it felt instantly cramped. His eyes caught the slight quiver of her eyelashes, and only then did he seem to find a measure of satisfaction.
The world outside was quiet and peaceful, the silence broken only by the rhythmic chorus of frogs in the brush.
Ye Jia kept her eyes squeezed shut, her ears straining to catch every sound behind her. She heard him move—a soft rustle of fabric—and then the room plunged into darkness as he extinguished the light. He settled back down, his steady, quiet breathing mingling with that cool, masculine scent. Ye Jia began silently reciting the Great Compassion Mantra in her head.
And so, with no other choice, she braced herself and eventually drifted off.
Half the window remained open, allowing a gentle breeze to drift into the room. The faint, lingering fragrance of the woman on the bed wound its way into his senses. They say there is nothing like the warmth of a soft, fragrant woman, and the scene was exactly that.
In the darkness, Zhou Jingchen slowly opened his eyes. Moonlight filtered through the window, making his gaze appear startlingly bright. His eyes drifted involuntarily to the woman lying before him. She was far too close—close enough to unsettle his mind. After a moment, he let out a quiet breath, turned over, and finally fell asleep.
Early the next morning, Ye Jia stretched lazily and sat up. It was only when she opened her eyes that she remembered she was in a different bed. She rubbed her head and felt the space beside her; the bedding was already stone-cold. Raising an eyebrow, she slowly dressed and stepped outside.
With May approaching, the sun was rising earlier every day. Ye Jia took a deep breath, only to hear a steady thwack-thwack coming from the yard. Curious, she followed the sound around to the back of the house. There, she found Zhou Jingchen, dressed in simple hemp clothes, splitting wood.
She didn’t know how long Zhou Jingchen had been awake. He wore only a thin summer tunic that left his lean, powerful arms exposed, and the back of his shirt was already damp with sweat. Judging by the firewood scattered across the ground, he had been out here chopping since dawn.
Ye Jia walked over to gather the messy logs, stacking them neatly to one side. As she turned, a vibrant patch of green caught her eye. In just a few short days, the chives had shot up considerably. She crouched down to gauge their height; they were finally ready to eat.
Pleased, she decided on the spot to make chive and egg pancakes for breakfast. It would be the perfect opportunity to test out the recipe.
She hurried to fetch water to wash up and tidy herself. After changing into more practical clothing, she grabbed a knife from the kitchen and a basin, then returned to the garden to harvest a generous handful of chives. They were remarkably tender and green, releasing a fresh, sharp aroma as she cut them.
Ye Jia sorted through the greens and washed them several times before setting them on the chopping block. Since she was cooking for her own household, she saw no need to be stingy and grabbed several eggs.
A good night’s sleep had left her with a sharp appetite. She set to work immediately, beating the eggs and kneading the dough with practiced efficiency.
Chive and egg pancakes were easy to make. Once the eggs were fried, Ye Jia set them aside to cool before mincing them. She finely chopped the chives and tossed them into a bowl with the eggs, drizzling a bit of sesame oil over the mixture. She would wait until just before filling the dough to add the salt; chive and egg pancakes only needed one seasoning to bring out their natural freshness.
Realizing that fried chive pockets would also be delicious, she decided to wrap a few of those as well.
As the oil began to sizzle in the pan, Rui’er caught the scent and came rushing in. “Auntie, what are you making? It smells so good!”
The little girl could speak quite fluently now, though this particular phrase was the one she used most often. She barely reached Ye Jia’s thighs, yet she trailed after her like a little shadow, circling her feet wherever she went.
Ye Jia let out a chuckle. “Go on, go wait over there. I’ll give you the very first one.”
The child cupped her face in her hands, giggling, and obediently stood to the side.
Madam Yu, no longer needing to wake up early for business, had just finished washing up. Drawn by the aroma, she stepped into the kitchen to find Ye Jia busy making pancakes. Her eyes darted first toward the pan, then immediately shifted to Ye Jia’s neck.
Ye Jia was dressed lightly in a low-collared top. When Madam Yu saw that her fair skin was completely clear, without a single red mark, a wave of disappointment washed over her.
Refusing to give up, Madam Yu stole a few more glances, but the result was the same. She couldn’t help but wonder: they had shared a room last night, so how could there be no trace of it at all?
Madam Yu was a refined woman at heart. No matter how anxious she felt, she kept her questions to herself rather than voice them in front of Ye Jia. After lingering by the stove for a long while, she eventually decided to seek out her son.
She searched the house and the yard before finally spotting Zhou Jingchen bent over the well, washing up. His face was beaded with sweat and his hair was damp, as if he had already been hard at work since dawn.
The morning light caught the broad lines of his back. Looking at his strong, sturdy frame, Madam Yu thought he hardly seemed like a man who was incapable of the deed. Still, her modesty got the better of her. Feeling awkward, she let out a frustrated huff, stamped her foot, and retreated to the kitchen.
Zhou Jingchen lowered the towel from his face. His gaze followed his mother’s indignant figure, his dark eyes flickering with a faint, unreadable emotion. He emptied the basin, took it back inside, and changed into a fresh set of clothes.
By the time he reached the kitchen, the women of the household had already begun their meal.
A delicate fragrance wafted through the air as the three women—the eldest, the youngest, and the one in between—each took a pancake and sat down in the kitchen to eat. Enveloped by the warmth and steam of the stove, they shared a rare, quiet moment of contentment.
Truth be told, the chive and egg pancakes were exceptional. The dough, prepared with a half-scalded flour technique, had been fried to a perfect golden brown.
The skins were glistening with oil and packed with a generous filling that was so well-cooked it held its own savory juices. Taking a bite, the heat was enough to make one grimace, yet it was far too delicious to spit out.
“Mother, how do they taste?” Ye Jia asked between bites.
Madam Yu had long since abandoned the refined habit of silence during meals. She nodded repeatedly. “They’re much more fragrant than the radish pancakes.”
Normally possessing the appetite of a bird, Madam Yu could usually make a single pancake last for an entire meal. Today, however, the flavor was so savory and addictive that she found herself finishing two and still wanting more.
Beside her, little Rui’er finished her portion and looked at Ye Jia with longing eyes.
“Children only get one,” Ye Jia said, cutting her off.
Rui’er puffed out her little stomach, trying to argue that she was already a big girl, but Ye Jia refused her with cool finality. Sensing someone nearby, Ye Jia looked up and saw Zhou Jingchen standing at the door.
She took another bite of her pancake and asked casually, “Husband, care for some?”
Zhou Jingchen remained silent for a moment.
…Naturally, he ate.
The chive and egg pancakes were a resounding success.
Even Zhou Jingchen, a man who usually cared little for the pleasures of the palate, ate four of them. They were as large as small bowls, yet he polished them off with refined composure. After finishing, he took a handkerchief and unhurriedly wiped his mouth before asking Ye Jia how much she planned to charge for each one.
“At least ten wen,” Madam Yu suggested, truly impressed by the flavor. “Radish cakes already cost six wen. These definitely need to be more expensive.”
Chive and egg pancakes would be a novelty on the market, something rarely seen for sale. Furthermore, they were made with eggs, and Ye Jia had used high-quality oil and flour, naturally justifying a higher price. However, considering the spending power of the people in Libei Town, a price that was too high might hinder sales.
“Ten wen is likely too much,” Ye Jia mused. “How many people in town can afford ten wen for a single pancake?”
She had sized the pancakes so that one wouldn’t quite be a full meal, making ten wen feel excessive.
“Let’s set it at seven wen. Since the chives are homegrown, the cost of the eggs and flour isn’t that high.” Having made her decision, Ye Jia suddenly patted Zhou Jingchen on the arm and said with mock gravity, “Husband, you must take good care of that chive patch in the backyard. Our family’s future profits depend on you.”
Zhou Jingchen was speechless.
She had decided to sell them just like that. Now that the chives had sprouted, the business could get moving.
Chives were much easier to prepare than radishes. While radishes required washing, slicing, blanching, and draining, chives only needed to be chopped. The eggs were the only slightly tedious part, though even they cooked quickly once they hit the hot oil.
After breakfast, Ye Jia and Madam Yu headed to the backyard and harvested a large bundle. Since chopping chives didn’t require precision knife skills, Ye Jia left the washing and cutting to Madam Yu.
As for Zhou Jingchen, Ye Jia had no intention of letting him idle. She called him over to knead the dough. The work was efficient; they could easily produce two or three hundred pancakes in a single morning.
Ye Jia noted that the egg filling shouldn’t sit overnight, so she decided it was better to fry the eggs and mix the filling later in the day.
Once the weather turned hot, the pancakes might sour if left out, which would eventually mean waking up at dawn to prepare them. For now, however, they finished the day’s batch in the evening, the entire process taking only about two hours.
The previous night had been long, and Ye Jia still had to get up early the next morning for the market. By the time she finished washing up and returned to the room, she had grown quite composed about the prospect of Zhou Jingchen sitting on the edge of the bed. Since it had happened once, it could happen again; having survived the first night together, she figured the second would be no different.
Ye Jia shed her outer layer and lay down. On the other hand, Zhou Jingchen remained seated by the window for a long while, making no move to join her. He sat quietly reading a book, only setting it aside and rubbing the bridge of his nose once her breathing had leveled out.
The Prince Regent felt a touch of helplessness. At nineteen, his body was full of vigor and vitality; if they were to sleep pressed against each other every night like this, it would indeed be a difficult test of endurance. After a long silence, he exhaled slowly and resigned himself to his fate, returning to the bed to lie down.
Ye Jia rose early the next morning to pack, well before dawn. Zhou Jingchen woke the moment she stirred. Rubbing his eyes, he quickly changed into fresh clothes and stepped outside. Old Sun’s ox cart had already arrived, and the old man was busy helping load the stove.
Because hiring Old Sun was so convenient, Ye Jia decided to continue booking his cart exclusively. One tael of silver a month didn’t seem like an unreasonable price for the service.
Once the gear was loaded, Zhou Jingchen finished washing up and stepped past Ye Jia to hoist the bucket of pancakes onto the cart. The two set off immediately, hurrying toward the town.
They arrived quite early, pulling in at the same time as the old man who sold radish pancakes. The Zhang family was nowhere to be seen, likely delayed by the previous day’s events. As the equipment for the Xi Shi Stall was being unloaded, the early-morning vendors began to gather. A few regulars were already waiting with smiles, chatting with the couple while they worked.
Once the fire was lit and the griddle in place, Ye Jia brushed on a layer of oil and began frying the chive and egg pancakes. The fragrance of the chives was potent, their savory scent drifting through the air on the breeze.
Those who had intended to buy fried radish pancakes found themselves staring, their eyes practically turning green with hunger. Even those who hadn’t planned on eating were lured over by the aroma, crowding around to inquire.
Ye Jia smiled at them. “These are our new chive and egg pancakes. They’re fresh and hearty. Seven wen each. Would you like to try one?”