Wu Shi, who had been stewing in anger all day, couldn’t vent her frustration on the drunkard reeking of alcohol. She had intended to wait until the next day to confront him, but Shen Rusong started making a fuss first, flailing about and demanding to know where some food box was.
Nanny Tong quickly handed over the two boxes brought back from the carriage. Shen Rusong, hiccupping from the wine, presented them to Wu Shi as if offering treasures: “Mingzhu, t-today, at the teahouse I went to… hic~ their Jusheng Nu was exceptionally well-made, so I brought some back for you to try!”
“Hic~ Later… later, we went to Baowei Restaurant. Do you remember Baowei Restaurant? You love their Mizhi Huofang, so I bought some for you~ hic~~ Zhuzhu, do you remember that year right after we got married, when we went together—”
Just as Shen Rusong reached out to grab Wu Shi’s hand, Nanny Tong gently patted Hong’er and quietly slipped out of the room.
After closing the door, Hong’er whispered with a worried expression: “Nanny, should we stay nearby for a while? What if they start fighting later?”
Nanny Tong remained unperturbed: “No need. Go back and rest peacefully.” Seeing the master “drunk” and sprawled on the bed, yet still able to produce two servings of food and explain them coherently, Nanny Tong knew tonight’s situation was under control.
“Ah? But… but Madam was just furious earlier.” Hong’er glanced back repeatedly as she hesitated.
“I said it won’t happen, so it won’t. What do you, a little girl, understand?” Nanny Tong looked down at the novice beside her, her face filled with the superiority of an experienced person.
“Let me ask you, is the hot water prepared?” Hmph, even if they do end up fighting later, it won’t be that kind of fight…
“It’s warming on the stove in the side room, originally prepared for the master to wash up when he returned.” Hong’er nodded. “But should I fetch more water?”
“—Fetch what? What kind of fight are you still thinking about! What is this silly girl imagining!”
Hong’er: “Huh???”
The seasoned Nanny Tong quickly hit the brakes: “Ahem! Hong’er, I’m planning to make a new pair of pillows with embroidery. Come help me trace the floral patterns…” As she spoke, she pulled Hong’er back to the side room.
Naturally, Shen Yiyi was unaware of the various reactions within the inner courtyard. In fact, from the moment she was brought into Shen Zhai, she had been in a state of bewilderment.
This shouldn’t be happening!
Just because of a letter, she was allowed in? Without any further investigation?
Are people in this era so simple (easily fooled)?
So, I laughed at Xia Yuhe for taking things for granted, while Yuhe laughed at me for failing to see through it.
Was I actually being too conservative?!
Originally left waiting outside the side gate, with the sun about to set and still no news, Hu Sicai’s burning desire for wealth gradually turned ice-cold.
Niu Shi could no longer restrain herself and began making sarcastic remarks toward Shen Yiyi.
Even Hutou, who was usually the most rambunctious, became quiet after waking up, hungry and huddled in a corner picking at cracks in the wall.
Hu Sicai wanted to leave, but he kept feeling that the small gate would open at any moment.
The token was gone too. If they left now, it would be over for good. Hu Sicai didn’t know what to do and could only wait there aimlessly.
Finally, as if some deity or Buddha he had prayed to had shown mercy, Shen Mansion actually let them in!
The room assigned to them wasn’t large—just one space divided into inner and outer sections by a wooden partition. The outer area had a table, chairs, and a cabinet, while the inner part contained a bed, another cabinet, and a washstand.
Once the servant leading the way had withdrawn, Hu Sicai ignored his growling stomach, crossed his legs, poured himself a cup of tea, and slurped it contentedly while leisurely surveying the surroundings.
The excited Niu Shi and Hutou, meanwhile, perfectly embodied the phrase “ransacking the place,” touching and examining every corner.
Shen Yiyi watched them come up empty-handed and fell into thought.
“The Arrival of Lin Daiyu at the Jia Mansion” was a model essay in the Chinese textbook, and back then, the teacher had analyzed it in detail using a map of Rongguo Fu. In ancient times, where ritual and hierarchy were emphasized, the courtyards where members of a large family lived most directly reflected their status and position.
Although she didn’t know the layout of Shen Zhai, this remote, cramped corner, the tiny room, and the completely unfurnished space were clearly not the treatment befitting a young lady of the house.
And the dinner served shortly after only confirmed her suspicions.
A pot of stewed pork with radishes, a pot of stir-fried cabbage, and a pot of rice. With a tongue tempered by seven years of school cafeteria food, she swore this was definitely mass-produced fare.
What’s more, likely limited by the variety of seasonings, the flavor fell far short of its school cafeteria counterparts, which were loaded with artificial flavorings.
Then there was the way the food was served: large bronze pots, only slightly smaller than washbasins, each piled high with food.
Just imagine if Sister Lin had been lodged in an empty room in a corner of Rongguo Fu, with a large bowl of Bigeng Mi rice on the dining table, a huge pot of Qie Xiang piled into a small mountain, a tray of Yanzhi E Fu stacked higher than a pagoda, and finally, a large iron pot of Suansun Jipi Tang…
If the Jia family had dared to receive Lin Daiyu like this, Lin Ruhai would have risen from his deathbed in shock, taken a speedboat overnight, and brought his daughter back to Gusu.
Lost in thought for just a moment, the familiar surround-sound “slurping and chewing” had already begun. By the time Shen Yiyi used a large white porcelain bowl to serve herself a meager portion of rice, half the food in the pots was already gone.
The other three were wielding their chopsticks so fast they seemed to leave afterimages, while Hutou was even more direct—his mouth stuffed full, he chewed while leaning over the table, using his hands to dig through the radishes for slices of meat.
Shen Yiyi’s lips twitched, and she quickly picked up a few mouthfuls of cabbage for herself.
At first, seeing her repeatedly take food, Niu Shi’s expression turned displeased. But upon noticing she had only taken leafy greens, she became satisfied again. Just as she was about to resume eating, someone kicked her under the table. She was about to flare up when she saw Hu Sicai gesturing and glaring at her.
Understanding her husband’s meaning, Niu Shi inwardly cursed—it wasn’t as if he was eating any slower himself.
Nevertheless, she picked up a piece of meat and placed it in Shen Yiyi’s bowl, her tone dripping with a love so fake it lacked any semblance of acting: “Yuan Jie’er, eat more! You’re back in your own home now, no need to be polite. Eat up!”
Shen Yiyi responded with “I don’t like meat” and a shy smile, swiftly transferring the “hand-grabbed meat” to Da Ya.
Da Ya was startled, first instinctively glancing at Niu Shi, then cautiously looking at Shen Yiyi before burying her head to eat.
And so, amid the silent chorus of “slurping and chewing,” by the time Shen Yiyi had finished only half her meal, the three pots were already empty.
Seeing the leftover broth in the pots, Niu Shi clearly wanted more and urged Hu Sicai a few times.
Hu Sicai half-heartedly went out to find someone.
Unexpectedly, as soon as Hu Sicai called out, the servant women here actually brought over a plate of Zaliang Bobo, as if they were quite experienced in such matters.
Even Hutou pounced on them, grabbing one in each hand, and everyone continued eating, dipping the buns into the leftover broth.
When Shen Yiyi finally set down her chopsticks, not a single green onion remained in any of the bowls or plates—they were so clean they looked as if they had never been used. A true professional-level table-clearing master.
Hu Sicai, thoroughly satisfied, began picking his teeth with a contented burp, looking at Shen Yiyi with unprecedented kindness.
Shen Yiyi sat quietly to the side, holding a teacup.
Although she didn’t know what the Shen family intended by letting them stay, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this journey to reconnect with relatives was rather unreliable.
If the attempt to claim kinship failed, she would have to go back and continue living with this family.
Her top priority now was—earning money!
That household was simply too poor; she needed to improve her living conditions.
More importantly, neither she nor the original owner of this body could handle farm work. To live well under the watchful eyes of her snobbish aunt, she had to prove her worth.
As a time traveler, skills like papermaking, brewing, soap-making, glass-blowing, oil extraction, and cement production were practically the standard for making a fortune in ancient times—and she… knew none of them…