Chapter 18

“I’d prefer to have my own room,” Xiao Wanling said. “I need to get up early to make tea and prepare snacks.” She thought to herself, “Should’ve made this clear earlier.”

The smile on Shen Qing’s face faded. Without a word, he moved the new furniture into the first room. His bamboo bed was placed in the second one, with just a few garments laid on the pillow, like it was only a temporary space.

The new house was spacious. Shen Qing wanted to make a folding screen, but there wasn’t enough wood. He planned to head into the mountains to cut some.

Having just recovered, Shen Qing’s insistence made Xiao Wanling uneasy. “Wait a few days,” she urged.

“I’m fine!” Shen Qing patted his chest confidently. He carried a basket, planning to pick some fruits and spices along the way.

The grey wolf followed happily behind.

Xiao Wanling finally relaxed a little. She cooked “white jade tofu” and simmered the rest of the preserved meat, seasoning it with dogwood berries, Sichuan pepper, and peppercorn. She wasn’t hungry; she’d wait for Shen Qing to come back so they could eat together.

She tidied the bedding and folded clean clothes into the wardrobe. On the vanity sat her homemade lip balm and hand cream; chrysanthemum soap rested on the washstand. She’d hung plant-dyed linen curtains on the windows, and the compacted earthen floor had been pounded smooth.

When the moon rose high into the sky, Xiao Wanling finally noticed how late it had gotten.

She stepped outside to check if Shen Qing had returned, just as she saw a figure on the mountain path. It was Xue Zhengyang, who looked up and called out, “Madam Xiao! I’ve got the medicine. How’s Shen Qing?”

“He’s better,” Xiao Wanling replied. “He ran off to chop wood in the mountains.”

The back hills were open for villagers to clear and farm. Any unclaimed trees could be cut down. The vast, layered mountains were part of the Prince of Jin’s domain.

Xue Zhengyang hesitated but still handed her two packets of medicine, then turned to head back down the mountain. Suddenly, there was a loud crack—the sound of a tree snapping. He turned back toward the mountain.

Up at the peak, a figure appeared, tossing a tree trunk downhill. It slid along the slope, and the person followed quickly. Not long after, the man reached the mountain trail, dragging the tree behind him with practiced ease.

Xue Zhengyang was stunned. Regaining his voice, he called out, “Shen Qing! You just got better—why aren’t you resting at home?”

The branches scraped the ground as Shen Qing approached. “I’m fine now. Thank you, Uncle Xue.” Noticing the medicine in Xiao Wanling’s hand, he figured it had come from Xue Zhengyang. He set the tree down and pulled six wens from his belt to offer him.

Xue Zhengyang felt a pang in his heart—he’d watched this boy grow up, and now Shen Qing had become so distant and formal.

“Come in and have some tea,” Xiao Wanling invited.

With his sore back and the climb behind him, Xue Zhengyang didn’t refuse.

She brought out the seasoned meat slices and set them on the table in the courtyard. Xue Zhengyang declined food but accepted half a bowl of rice.

In front of Shen Qing was a heaping bowl of white rice. He stuffed meat into his mouth, shoveled in the rice, and drank sweet tea with big gulps—he looked like he was thoroughly enjoying it.

Xue Zhengyang’s mind drifted to the past, when Shen Qing’s parents had first fled here. Everything was difficult; they had to start over from nothing.

Shen Qing hadn’t even been born yet. By the time his parents died, he was still just a child. Life had been about survival—just not starving, not freezing, not being eaten by wild beasts. Thinking about Shen Qing’s orphaned childhood filled him with sorrow.

The mood turned heavy. Realizing he’d said the wrong thing, Xue Zhengyang quickly stood up. “Take care of yourself, Shen Qing. I’ll head back.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Shen Qing said, getting up. “I’ll tidy the table when I return.”

Xiao Wanling nodded and went to boil water for a bath.

Watching the way they got along, like a couple married for years, Xue Zhengyang knew his daughter had no chance. Once home, he told Lady Liu, “You’d better hurry and find a husband for Xue Cui. If no one in Qishan Village is suitable, try Dayan Village.”

Old Lady Liu felt bitter. Her husband never took her side. Her eldest son never comforted her, the second son’s family were like mute statues, and her third only cared about his wife and kids. Cui’er had to marry eventually. What mattered was money. “I know,” she said coldly.

Soon, they found a suitor: Hou Youcai, a retired soldier with a limp. He was generous—offering twenty taels of betrothal silver, enough for the Xue family to buy furnishings.

The village buzzed with gossip: “Xue Cui’s marrying a cripple.” But Xue Cui thought Shen Qing had changed his mind and agreed. She stayed home, embroidering her wedding dress. Her father had delivered medicine that night, and the very next day, her marriage was set. The family bought bedding and new clothes for her.

Xue Cui walked as if floating. When she passed through the village, the people whispering quickly scattered—she thought they were jealous.

She arrived at the teahouse and saw Xiao Wanling talking to a man dressed like a servant. She rolled her eyes. Already found another man?

The servant from the Zhang household held a recipe for walnut crisps in his chest and a bolt of purple linen under his arm. He was grinning from ear to ear, thrilled for his mistress, and galloped away after offering thanks.

Xue Cui toyed with a strand of hair and gave Xiao Wanling a scornful look. “You’re still here?”

Xiao Wanling had waited for the Zhang family’s servant and thus delayed closing shop. When I close my business, what is she even going on about?

Ignored again, Xue Cui flared up. “Shen Qing is going to marry me. And you’re still clinging to his house? Shameless!”

Xiao Wanling burst out laughing. “Who told you that?”

Xue Cui, certain of herself, huffed, “The betrothal gifts arrived at our house—twenty taels! Has Shen Qing ever spent that much on you?”

“Oh? I’ll ask him when I get home.” Xiao Wanling loaded the bamboo trays onto the oxcart, locked up, and left.

Behind her, Xue Cui laughed smugly. She followed the oxcart, giggling the entire way back through the village.

People along the road whispered, “Xue Cui finally snagged a good man. Guess she won this round.”

But from their tone, Xiao Wanling could hear the sarcasm. She greeted a few familiar villagers, then continued on her way.

From a distance, she saw Jiang Ting standing at the village entrance. The cart didn’t stop, but Jiang Ting ran up, grabbed the wooden railing, and shouted, “Don’t blame her! Xue Cui’s not bad—just stupid.” Then let go and stepped back.

Jiang Ting had always been close with Xue Cui, but Xiao Wanling didn’t take their words to heart. Shen Qing was busy doing carpentry all day and had never even mentioned Xue Cui.

Back home, Xiao Wanling soaked some mung beans—Madam Zhang had sent them. She wanted to see if she could sprout and plant them.

For lunch, she made porridge and cold dishes. After eating, she went to nap and found a wooden frame for a folding screen newly placed in her room. She figured she could cover it later with cloth from Cheng Qiao’er.

Shen Qing waited for a while. Hearing no sound from her room, he wondered if she didn’t like it.

He pushed open the door and saw her asleep. Disappointed, he went to the kitchen and saw she’d left food for him, and his mood lifted again. She must like him and didn’t want him to go hungry.

He’d never had experience with women and had no one to consult. After eating and washing up, Shen Qing took the oxcart and left.

He met with Madam Zhang. She looked puzzled. “Did Miss Xiao send you with something?”

She assumed there was another recipe coming and got excited—just thinking about Han Shuyi seeing Ruyi Pavilion selling the walnut crisps made her gleeful.

Shen Qing shook his head. “I need your help—with the second favor.”

Madam Zhang was stunned. The first favor had been to help Xiao Wanling. Now he was using the second so casually? Even if he’d asked for hundreds of taels, she wouldn’t have refused—not after he’d once saved the Zhang family.

It had to be about Miss Xiao again. She held her breath. “What do you need help with?”

Shen Qing blurted, “How do I get a woman to like me?”

Madam Zhang almost burst into laughter. “You’ve come to the right person. I’m close in age to Miss Xiao, and we have similar tastes.” She sneaked a glance at his surprised face and nearly laughed out loud.

“How did you guess?” Shen Qing asked.

She waved her fan. “The way you look at her is different from how you look at anyone else. If you want someone to like you, remember these five things.”

Shen Qing anxiously fiddled with his sleeves. “What five things?”

Madam Zhang smiled. “You really want to know? Then you’ll be down to your last favor.” She’d asked jokingly, but seeing him nod, she continued,

“One—hug her. But only if she doesn’t hate you.

Two—praise her a lot.

Three—be her hero.

Four—give her clothes or jewelry.

Five—stick to her like glue.”

Shen Qing memorized them carefully and repeated them silently twice. Then he cupped his hands. “Thank you. Farewell.”

After he left, Madam Zhang laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. “Don’t tell me they haven’t even consummated their marriage?”

Chun Zhi listlessly arranged pastries. “Miss, your own marriage isn’t settled yet. Don’t drag Mr. Shen into a ditch. He and Miss Xiao are both great benefactors of the Zhang family.”

Madam Zhang looked utterly pleased. “You don’t understand—I’m helping them!”

Suddenly, the door burst open. Han Shuyi stormed in, skirts lifted, and caught sight of Madam Zhang looking all dreamy. She turned and saw the retreating figure of a man down the hall.

“Hahaha! Secretly meeting your lover?”

Madam Zhang rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be working on new pastry recipes? If you’ve got time, go cry under your blanket. There are plenty of good days ahead.” The things the Han family did to the Zhangs—I’ll make sure to repay them all.

…

Back at home, Xiao Wanling was simmering malt syrup when she saw Shen Qing return with a cart full of goods.

“I thought you were sleeping at home,” she said, going over to help.

Shen Qing took out a small gold-painted box and handed it to her with both hands. “This is for you—do you like it?”

She smiled and wiped her hands on her apron, then opened the box. Inside were pearl necklaces, flower hairpins, earrings—fine jewelry.

Surprised, she looked at him. “They’re beautiful! Why are you giving me a gift?” These were certainly more portable than money, but she worried he’d spent too much.

She ran inside and came back with a pouch of money. “Here, half of what I’ve earned lately.”

Shen Qing refused. “It’s a gift—I’m not selling jewelry.”

“But you spent so much! You should keep some money for emergencies.”

That did make sense. He accepted it, thinking of it as a gift from her. He couldn’t stop grinning.

He made dinner, blanched vegetables that were guided all the way by Xiao Wanling.

She placed a candle on the table. They sat down to eat. Shen Qing nibbled at his rice cake but seemed distracted. Normally, he’d be done eating by now.

“The rice batter has to rise before you steam it,” Xiao Wanling said. “Today’s batch was good—you didn’t forget the sugar.”

“You taught me well,” Shen Qing said suddenly.

Xiao Wanling nearly choked on her tea, coughing hard. She snuck a glance at him—who is this guy? Shen Qing doesn’t talk like this!

Then he suddenly scooped her into his lap, one rough hand patting her back through her clothes while the other held her waist in a tight embrace.

Xiao Wanling’s eyes widened. Had he turned into a completely different person?!