Chapter 28

Xiao Wanling finalized plans with Madam Zhang that Ruyi Pavilion would launch a limited batch of mung bean soup and quietly spread the word that Qishan Village had it too.

While Qishan Village remained tense, Jin City appeared entirely unaffected. Ruyi Pavilion’s refreshing and sweet teas took the noble ladies’ circles by storm.

Madam Ji sent servants daily to buy tea from Ruyi Pavilion, which inadvertently drove Hongyun Restaurant’s business even further into the ground.

Han Shuyi was so furious she trashed an entire room, then prepared an exquisite East Pearl to give to her aunt, Madam Jin, asking her to speak to Madam Ji on her behalf.

Madam Jin had long coveted that egg-sized pearl and eagerly agreed. When she met Madam Ji, she twisted the facts, saying, “That Ruyi Pavilion is relying on your favor, dear sister, and blatantly stealing recipes from Hongyun Restaurant. It’s disgraceful!”

Madam Ji had just finished applying her silk cocoon face mask and lay lazily on the couch. “Sister, His Highness the Prince of Jin doesn’t care for women. No one knows who’ll inherit the Jin estate. And now that the Marquis has taken in another beauty…”

Madam Jin was startled. Calling the Prince of Jin “Marquis” so casually—her younger sister was becoming more and more brazen. She quickly dropped the topic and instead brought up her own son’s unresolved marriage prospects.

The conversation yielded nothing. Han Shuyi flew into another rage but couldn’t retrieve the East Pearl. So she changed her demand: she wanted to marry her cousin, Jin Jiaran.

But this time Madam Jin refused—she had her sights set on a niece from her own family, and her son didn’t like Han Shuyi either. The matter was shelved.

Furious, Han Shuyi vented her anger on the servants. Her household was trembling in fear. Eventually, they discovered the one secretly helping Zhang Yingying was Xiao Wanling.

A peasant woman dares challenge me?

Han Shuyi immediately sent people to buy land and open a shop, determined to teach Xiao Wanling what happens when you cross the Han family.

The Han family had deep pockets. In just three days, they built an entire row of shops. Chen Gui stood with hands on hips, scolding Xiao Wanling, “You’re always trying to stand out! Now someone’s stealing your business!”

He even claimed that Madam Ji was just a fake excuse Xiao Wanling used to sound important.

Xiao Wanling had seen this coming. “It’s fair competition. Business is based on skill.” The impact for now was small—she was playing the long game.

Xue Cui bought rice cakes from Chen Gui and said sarcastically, “So-called ‘Madam Ji loves her pastries’?” More like she got kicked out! Selling mung bean soup at a ridiculous price, and now look—you can’t even afford mung beans!”

Just then, a delivery from the Zhang family arrived. The Xue family’s eldest grandson ran over shouting, “Auntie Xiao! The Zhangs brought more mung beans!”

Xiao Wanling gave the boy a piece of malt candy and rubbed his hair. “Good job, little guy!”

The boy clutched the candy, only for Xue Cui to snatch it away and hide it behind her back.

Chen Gui scoffed, “You talk big. If you’re so great, why didn’t you stay at the Prince of Jin’s manor and live in glory? What are you doing back here?”

Xiao Wanling was just about to retort when the patrol team arrived.

Supervisor Cha, leading his team, overheard Chen Gui, and his face turned grim. He ordered his men to take Chen Gui into the woods for a good beating.

Chen Gui covered his face. “I was a soldier! It was just a slip of the tongue! Please, let me off!”

Supervisor Cha snorted. “Don’t bring up your time on the battlefield—it’s disgraceful. Xiao Wanling hasn’t held it against you, but you keep pushing your luck. After the night raid, people are still grieving. We’re about to depart. If you stir up trouble now, you’ll regret it.”

Chen Gui rubbed his swollen cheek. He only said a few words and got beaten? Shen Qing was one thing—but these guys are even worse!

Meanwhile, Shen Qing went out early and came home late each day, hunting game and picking herbs and fruits.

Meat that couldn’t be eaten right away was dried and hung up or turned into jerky and stored in sealed jars. Xiao Wanling made him soap and underclothes—he was leaving, and she just wanted to prepare as much as she could.

The eight survivors from the back mountain were scrambling to rebuild before departure—rebuilding homes, storing food, sewing clothes, gathering blankets, and making furniture—they were overwhelmed with work.

Lu Dahai often came to borrow tools. Shen Qing helped when he could. One day, Lu Dahai borrowed lard and a machete. Noticing the couple each busy with their own tasks, he pulled Shen aside and asked, “Still not patched things up? Did you know your wife asked the agricultural officer for two plots of land?”

It was good land too—sunlit, close to water, and well-fertilized. Clearly, it was being carefully cultivated. No wonder Lu Dahai had noticed it.

Shen Qing’s expression gave him away. Lu Dahai clicked his tongue. “You’re about to leave and still playing stubborn?”

Shen Qing wondered if Xiao Wanling truly wanted to distance herself from him. He walked into the kitchen and asked bluntly, “The land—you’re farming now?”

Xiao Wanling handed him some shredded radish to taste. “I’m trying to grow sweet potatoes. If it works, I’ll tell you.”

Shen Qing tasted it—crunchy and flavorful, great in a steamed bun. “Is this for me to take too?” He sighed. “With all these people showing up, I figured war was coming. I just didn’t expect it this fast.”

Xiao Wanling replied simply, “It might be for the best.”

His smile faded. Was she glad to see him go? She didn’t seem sad at all. “Say the word and I’ll stay.”

She sighed. “You wanted to earn military merit. Now you have to go. Even if you stay for me, deserters get five years of hard labor.”

Without a word, Shen Qing stormed off, leaving a gust of wind after him. He now doubted her feelings. Was he just imagining it all?

Back in his room, he saw the bundle she’d prepared, and his heart wavered again.

He lay awake all night. At dawn, he left quietly, not daring to face a goodbye.

When Xiao Wanling woke, she rushed to his room. His clothes were gone.

She ran down the mountain. If I hurry, I can at least tell him to come back alive. At the foot of the mountain, women and children were wiping their tears.

She asked anxiously, “Have they gone?”

Cheng Qiao’er wiped her tears and sniffled, “They left about a quarter of an hour ago… waaah!”

As she cried, the others followed—soon the group was wailing. Xiao Wanling’s eyes welled up. Shen Qing had left without a word. Was he angry? Thankfully, he took everything she packed.

She walked home slowly. The courtyard felt empty, too quiet. She made tea and buns like usual. Glancing at the cured meat hanging from the beams, she called out, “Shen Qing!”

Silence. Only the gurgling of the pot answered her.

Bitterness welled up. She told herself to stay strong, as there was still much to do.

She climbed up, took down the cured meat, cooked it, scraped off the char, and fed some to the Grey Wolf with two buns. She wouldn’t be home at noon—this was its lunch.

For the first time, the Grey Wolf didn’t wolf down its food. It stretched its neck, staring into the backyard.

A thin, scrawny silver wolf dashed in and devoured everything.

Xiao Wanling’s heart clenched at the sight of this unexpected guest. One woman. Two wolves. They stared at each other for several minutes.

The Grey Wolf wagged its tail and rubbed against her leg, licking the clean bowl and looking up at her, as if saying, We’re still hungry.

She fetched a chipped bowl, poured in water, and prepared more food before heading out. The two wolves slipped back into the house and disappeared.

Xiao Wanling tightened her grip on the reins.

At the teahouse, just as she’d finished setting up tea and buns, a Han store employee arrived, tossing a string of wens on the table. “I’ll buy all your buns and tea today!”

She paused mid-wipe and looked up. “Planning to hoard them and resell at higher prices?” Classic ruthless profiteering.

The clerk sneered. “If you don’t sell to me, no one else will buy!”

She had already guessed his plan. “Go ahead,” she said. If he sold them cheaply, at least people could afford food. She could even give hers away for free.

Passing villagers stopped in front of the teahouse. The Han clerk shouted, “One-cent meat buns!”

“One cent?” someone echoed in disbelief.

A neighbor’s daughter-in-law was tempted, wen in hand, but hesitant.

Xiao Wanling smiled. “It’s alright—go ahead and buy.”

Relieved, the woman went to the Han stall. “Four, please!”

The Han clerk kept snatching customers—even from Chen Gui, who was ready to start a brawl. Only now did he realize that Xiao Wanling had never resorted to underhanded tactics.

She didn’t mind the leftovers. She hadn’t been making much profit on the four-wen buns anyway. And with Shen Qing gone, her appetite had diminished.

The Grey Wolf and Silver Wolf were the lucky ones—stuffing themselves on leftover meat buns until they were round and picky.

Every day, Xiao Wanling checked the two fields on the back mountain, hoping the sweet potatoes would sprout. She still ran her morning and midday business. The Han family opened a general store and cloth shop, drawing customers from dozens of miles away.

Vendors started setting up stalls every five days. The growing crowd meant the Han family’s tricks stopped working. Xiao Wanling’s teahouse gained more visitors, averaging 500 wen in daily earnings.

One day, she saw green shoots poking through the soil. Excited, she crouched down and carefully pushed aside the straw—sweet potato vines had sprouted two tiny leaves. She watered them and rushed to tell the agricultural officer, “They’ve sprouted!”

The officer, now lean and dark from the sun, knew of sweet potatoes. He’d only let her plant them to discourage her—they were edible but often caused sickness. Experienced farmers knew that.

His indifferent attitude told Xiao Wanling he didn’t care. She’d have to wait for a full harvest to prove it.

Madam Zhang hadn’t found many sweet potatoes, so Xiao Wanling propagated them by cuttings. Slowly, the vines spread.

Sister-in-law Lu passed by carrying water. “Xiao Wanling! Whatever you planted is growing like mad. Aren’t you going to eat it before it gets too tough?”

Some curious folks had tried it, found it fibrous, and stopped.

Xiao replied, “It’s not ready yet.” As long as nothing went wrong, the crop would succeed. Hopefully, Madam Zhang would bring word about the potatoes soon.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Xiao Wanling and Sister-in-Law Lu exchanged looks at the sound of a gong, then hurried toward the village. From afar, they could see crowds gathered just like during recruitment.

But this time, it was mostly women.

Sister-in-law Lu’s heart sank. “What’s going on now?”