Author Archives: Thingyan

Qi Beinan poured a cup of ginger shred soup for Xiao Yuanbao to hold and drink, to drive off the chill clinging to his body.

He then fetched a clean cloth and gently wiped down the boy’s rain-soaked hair.

The already fine, soft strands had flattened even more after the rain; the boy looked like he’d thinned out all over.

Qi Beinan asked, “Was the banquet lively?”

“Mm!” Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes lit up as soon as Qi Beinan asked. He nodded eagerly, then quickly set down the ginger soup and started describing everything:

“There were a lot of people at Village Head Ma’s house! The night before, they set up fifteen tables, and at noon today, another ten. There were two chefs!”

He couldn’t remember all the dish names, but he did remember getting to eat rabbit meat and lamb—things they hadn’t had at the banquet in Zhou’s village.

The other meats—pork, chicken, duck, cured meat, fish—were also present but cooked differently than before.

“Teacher said the village head was celebrating a birthday, and the family’s well off, so the dishes for the banquet were more plentiful—twelve dishes per table.”

Jiang Fulang made six dishes, and the other chef made the remaining six.

“Rabbit and lamb were both made by the other chef.”

The reason for hiring two chefs, Xiao Yuanbao explained in his own words, was partly because there were so many tables that one chef might not be able to manage everything, and partly because having two chefs made the host appear more impressive—and people liked to compare which one cooked better.

The other chef, Master Wang, was young and said to be from the city. He carried himself with an air of superiority, claiming to be familiar with meats that ordinary farming households rarely got to eat.

He implied that Jiang Fulang, being a village cook, didn’t have his breadth of experience, and so took charge of the rabbit and lamb dishes himself.

Although Xiao Yuanbao didn’t fully understand the adult drama, he could still sense there was competition involved.

“Since Master Wang took the rabbit and lamb, Teacher made a peach blossom rice dish with minced pork and glutinous rice—it looked just like a real peach and smelled fruity and sweet. The village head really liked it!”

Xiao Yuanbao was visibly excited. “Everyone at the table said the rabbit and lamb were special and tasty, but the dish people reached for the most was Teacher’s stir-fried pork slices with scallions!”

Qi Beinan listened carefully and couldn’t help reaching over to pinch his cheek.

“You’ve got a good memory.”

Xiao Yuanbao shyly leaned his head against Qi Beinan’s arm.

Then he remembered something, jumped up, and brought over his little bundle.

Inside were his personal items he’d taken on the trip. Besides those, there were two oiled-paper parcels and a small red envelope.

He took everything out—inside the parcels were some assorted lamb offal and four osmanthus rice cakes. The little red envelope held eight copper coins.

Xiao Yuanbao raised his delicate brows proudly and showed the coins to Qi Beinan. “These were specially given to me by the village head! Teacher got a separate one~”

Qi Beinan laughed. “Our Xiao Bao is amazing already—earning his own money.”

Xiao Yuanbao beamed. “In the future, Xiao Bao’s going to earn even more! I’ll buy Gege paper and ink, and a big bow for Father!”

Xiao Hu had just come back from washing up and overheard his son talking about buying him a big bow. His heart felt warm and comforted.

That night, Xiao Yuanbao returned to his own room.

He lay flat on the floor and dragged out a narrow-neck, round-bellied earthen jar from under the bed. Carefully, he dropped each of his hard-earned coins inside one by one.

So far, he had thirty copper coins: eight earned himself, twenty-two gifted by Gege and Father.

He hugged the jar to his chest, gently pressing his cheek against it, full of hopeful dreams.

Once he could cook too, the jar would fill up quickly.

Then he’d buy a big ox, a big house, and eat meat at every meal!

…

The next morning, Xiao Yuanbao struggled to leave his dreams behind. When he finally got up yawning, Xiao Hu had already gone into the city.

Although Qi Beinan had told him that the manor would continue purchasing mountain goods but he didn’t want to see Qin Niazi so, Xiao Hu still decided to go himself and take the goods to market.

After making sure the boy was well rested and had eaten breakfast, Qi Beinan resumed literacy lessons—after all, they’d missed two whole days while out.

That morning, he ground ink to write the next part of the study manual for Zhao Guangzong, and while he was at it, he gave Xiao Yuanbao a short-handled brush made with pig bristles to let him scribble and draw freely on rough paper.

He figured it was good for the boy to get used to holding a brush. Later, he’d begin teaching simple characters. Recognizing words without writing wasn’t a long-term plan.

At the desk by the window, one grown-up and one little one each sat at their own end, holding brushes in quiet concentration.

The warm spring breeze blew in gently, brushing across their faces, comfortable and calming.

Once Qi Beinan entered a focused state, nothing could distract him.

He wrote two full pages in one go. While relaxing his wrist, he glanced over and saw Xiao Yuanbao’s small legs propped up on the footrest of the chair. The boy sat upright, back straight like him, holding the pig-bristle brush with impressive focus.

Qi Beinan was surprised. He quietly leaned in and saw that on the rough paper, a properly drawn branch of a plum tree had emerged.

In the spring light, shadows from the plum tree in the courtyard fell just right onto the desk.

Xiao Yuanbao had adjusted his paper so that the buds of the plum blossoms lined up perfectly with his page.

He lifted his brush and traced the shadow of the branch—it wasn’t bad at all, quite true to form.

Qi Beinan’s lips lifted in a smile. He took his own brush and began to teach Xiao Yuanbao how to dot in a tiny plum blossom.

Xiao Yuanbao tilted his head, watching Qi Beinan sketch blossoms beside him, smiling wide enough to reveal his little tiger teeth.

…

A few days later, the two of them made a trip to the county town and stopped by the clinic to see the physician.

Dr. Yang stroked his beard and praised how well Xiao Yuanbao’s health had improved. He said there was no longer any need to get tonics from the pharmacy.

Qi Beinan was quite pleased. They stopped by the fabric shop and purchased two bolts of spring cloth—he planned to have Xiao Yuanbao deliver them to Jiang Fulang.

Over the past weeks, Jiang Fulang’s care and guidance for Xiao Yuanbao hadn’t gone unnoticed. Even though he’d refused any return gifts, it wasn’t right to just keep taking without giving anything in return.

Over time, that sort of imbalance would always sit uncomfortably in the heart.

Any relationship had to go both ways.

After finishing their shopping, Qi Beinan and Xiao Yuanbao boarded an ox cart out of town.

“Wait a moment, Master!”

Just as the driver was about to prod the ox forward, someone called out behind them.

The voice sounded familiar. Xiao Yuanbao turned his head, surprised. “Brother Chao?”

Chao Ge’er came running with a bamboo basket in hand. As soon as he spotted them on the ox cart, he didn’t bother greeting them—he just clambered on and sat on the opposite end.

“Where are you going?” Xiao Yuanbao asked cheerfully, happy to see someone familiar. Even though Chao Ge’er didn’t answer his first call, he kept trying.

In his memory, Brother Chao had always been the kind of person who answered reluctantly anyway.

“Going to the manor, obviously.” Chao Ge’er lifted his chin with pride, clearly unimpressed by Xiao Yuanbao’s glee.

He opened the cloth covering his basket, revealing two toothbrushes inside.

Then he pulled out a small box, opened it up, and brought it to his nose for a sniff.

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes widened. “Brother Chao bought tooth powder too?”

Chao Ge’er looked pleased, returning the tooth powder to the basket and giving Xiao Yuanbao a smug glance.

“Yeah. The manor steward gave me thirty copper coins and told me to go shop in town.”

He’d said he wanted to buy toothbrushes and powder, and his mother had scolded him for wasting money. But the steward had overheard and praised him for being clean, even gave him more money to buy an extra toothbrush for his mother.

Now running into Xiao Yuanbao, he was doubly proud—just the perfect time to show off.

“This tooth powder has jasmine in it—it smells better than the usual kind. It’s the most popular one right now. A lot of folks in town are buying it.”

Seeing the gleam in Xiao Yuanbao’s wide eyes, Chao Ge’er felt deeply satisfied. He shook out the cloth again and covered his basket as if guarding a treasure from jealous eyes.

Qi Beinan didn’t greet Chao Ge’er, simply sat quietly and listened to the two children talk.

He noticed Xiao Yuanbao’s envy and was about to offer to buy him a fruit-scented powder next time they went to town, but before he could speak, Xiao Yuanbao beat him to it.

“Later, I’m going to Teacher’s house alone to deliver the new spring cloth.”

Qi Beinan raised an eyebrow. What brought this up? “Why?”

Xiao Yuanbao answered seriously, “Brother Chao can go to town by himself, but I still need Gege with me. I want to start learning my way.”

Qi Beinan paused. This kid…

Then he thought about it—between the Xiao residence and Jiang Fulang’s was a clear, familiar road. It wasn’t far, and springtime meant more familiar faces outside. It wasn’t dangerous, and learning independence was a good thing. So he agreed:

“Alright. But if you see someone familiar, you can talk to them. If they give you something, don’t refuse it, but don’t eat it right away either. If it’s a stranger and they don’t know your name, ignore them. If they do know your name, still keep your distance. Don’t follow anyone home or let them into our house.”

Xiao Yuanbao listened carefully. “Mm, got it.”

On the other end, Chao Ge’er rolled his eyes. What kind of coward needed this many instructions just to go out?

He thought Xiao Yuanbao was pathetic. Why envy the tooth powder? Why not envy someone like him who could go into town alone? How small-minded.

Then he caught something—Xiao Yuanbao had said “teacher.” Curious, Chao Ge’er wondered what kind of teacher he had. Was the brat studying? Couldn’t be—it was only boys who studied. A little ger like that wouldn’t be going to school.

Though curious, he didn’t want to look ignorant by asking, so he swallowed his questions. But in the end, he still managed to lean that Bao Ge’er was learning to become a cook.

…

Qin Niazi had recovered from her illness after lying abed for several days.

Still, even after she got better, she kept lounging on the bamboo couch, calling servants to rub her legs or telling the kitchen to bring her bits of cooked meat to enjoy with wine.

Ever since she married into a manor household, it hadn’t taken long for her to learn how to snack in between meals.

Back when she lived as a farmer’s wife, she’d eaten three meals a day at fixed hours—never heard of nibbling meat with wine in between.

Now that she’d tried it a few times, she was hooked. Life really was comfortable these days.

Chao Ge’er said as soon as he saw his mother, “I want to apprentice under a teacher and learn a trade too.”

Qin Niazi sat up a bit straighter. “What’s the point of fussing with that? It’s thankless, hard labor.”

Chao Ge’er threw the basket he’d just been so proud of to the side, unwilling to back down. “Why can that little brat and I can’t? He doesn’t even seem as clever as me!”

Qin Niazi said, “Silly child, it’s not that your mother doesn’t want you to, it’s that learning a craft is nothing but labor for others. If you want a future, you should aim to be the one being served—not the one doing the serving.”

“Look at your mother—because of this figure and charm, the steward brought me here to enjoy a good life.”

“I’ve already thought it through for you. Learn some manners here on the manor, grow up with smooth skin and delicate hands, and when the time comes, I’ll ask Steward Zhu to send you to the main house in Jinling—those grand golden nests. Won’t that be better than learning some back-breaking trade?”

Chao Ge’er was initially upset about not being allowed to learn a skill, but hearing his mother’s grand plans for him, his heart floated with delight.

If life was already this good in a country manor, wouldn’t it be bliss in one of Jinling’s grand estates? He immediately tossed aside the idea of apprenticing to a cook.

…

Back at home, Xiao Yuanbao had just returned and quickly packed up the spring cloth before heading off alone to Jiang Fulang’s house.

Qi Beinan, of course, wasn’t entirely at ease. Even when Xiao Yuanbao went to the Fang household, he always brought him there and back. He had never actually let the child go out on his own.

This time, he let him go ahead but followed from a distance.

Xiao Yuanbao knew the way to Jiang’s courtyard. He was a little nervous being on his own, but the warm spring weather and clear skies made everything feel a bit less frightening.

When he saw familiar villagers, he’d greet them cheerfully—Auntie Zhang, Uncle Li, the uncles and aunties—if they asked where he was headed, he simply said he was going to Jiang Fulang’s house. He didn’t stop to chat and quickly made his way there.

Seeing that, Qi Beinan finally felt at ease. He didn’t follow all the way to Jiang’s place, instead turning back halfway.

Jiang Fulang was in the courtyard doing laundry. He was a clean person and didn’t raise poultry at home.

Every piece of clothing was washed with soap nuts after just one wear.

From a distance, he saw a familiar figure on the path—Xiao Yuanbao, clutching a bolt of fabric nearly as tall as he was, running fast.

“What are you doing here alone?”

Jiang Fulang had already opened the courtyard gate and saw sweat beading on Xiao Yuanbao’s forehead.

“Xiao Bao brought spring cloth for Teacher.”

Jiang Fulang accepted the bolt of fabric, peeled back the rough outer cloth, and saw a pale turquoise hue—quite pleasing to the eye.

“Who told you to bring this? Didn’t I tell your father and brother not to send gifts?”

He furrowed his brow.

“It’s Xiao Bao who chose it for Teacher.”

Hearing that, Jiang Fulang paused. His tone unknowingly softened.

“That cloth’s heavy. Look at you sweating all over.”

He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from Xiao Yuanbao’s forehead.

“Just leave it here. No need to carry it back. You’re not even that tall yet, hauling around such a big piece of cloth.”

Then he led Xiao Yuanbao inside to drink sweetened water and gave him a few preserved fruits to nibble on.

After playing at Jiang’s for a bit, Xiao Yuanbao skipped back home with two meat pastries. When he arrived, he saw Brother Fang was at their house talking to Qi Beinan.

“She said she doesn’t want to marry yet—wants to learn… learn that hairdressing trade. I’ve never even heard of it. Is there really such a job where people earn money just brushing hair?”

Fang Youliang looked baffled. “I asked her where she learned about that, but she wouldn’t say. You’re the only one I know who’s well-informed, so I came to ask you.”

Qi Beinan thought, so Fang Jie’er was tight-lipped and didn’t mention him.

“To be honest, it was me who told her that there are women in the city who earn a living by doing hair.”

“The other day when I came to deliver a message for you, I ran into her and we were chatting. I casually brought it up—not thinking she’d take it to heart.”

“You said that!?” Fang Youliang was relieved. “If it came from you, then I’m not worried. Us farmers don’t see much of the world. I was just afraid she believed someone’s nonsense.”

“She wants to learn a trade. As her brother, I’m glad. But I’ve never heard of this kind of job before—how would I help her find a path? She’s always been sensible and keeps everything to herself, never asks for anything. Now she’s finally opened her mouth, and I don’t even know what to do.”

Fang Youliang often felt useless as an older brother.

Qi Beinan said, “It’s rare for her to be this motivated. If the family’s going to improve, that kind of ambition is valuable. Since I brought it up, I’ll try to find someone with the right connections.”

Fang Youliang was deeply grateful. He brought over ten jin of fresh bamboo shoots he had dug himself from the deep mountains.

Qi Beinan asked around at Village Head Zhao’s place and also sought out Matchmaker Qiao, but found nothing useful.

Hairdressing, it turned out, was a trade difficult to get into through a farming family’s usual network. Common folk didn’t need that sort of service. It wasn’t about cost—even if it were affordable, there was simply no demand.

Most people spent their days tending fields or managing their families’ meals and clothing. They were always trying to make themselves look neat and tidy in the simplest way possible. Who had time to fuss over hairstyles?

Only the rich or powerful hired professionals to style their hair into elegant buns.

Because the idle and wealthy have no need to worry about food or clothing, they spend their days attending banquets, taking boat trips, enjoying flowers—all refined activities—and naturally must keep themselves looking presentable.

As for people at the bottom, who’ve never had contact with the gentry, they wouldn’t even know such a trade exists.

Qi Beinan found it a little difficult too. If he were still living in Qiu County, this would’ve been easy to find.

In the city, alley after alley connects. Just a little inquiry and you’d find out where hairdressing women work. But in the village, news is slow and connections are few.

He passed the matter on to Fang Youliang, asking whether he knew anyone in the county.

Fang Youliang thought about it and said he only knew a workshop supervisor named Liu, who sometimes received deliveries of spring vegetables from the mountain. The Liu family was polite enough.

Qi Beinan recalled the man and said, “That’s perfect.”

“I remember you said Foreman Liu lives in a city alley and works in the county office. That part of town is busy and well-connected, and he might even have contact with the magistrate’s household. If even he doesn’t know, then it’ll be very hard for us to find a way in. Take some fresh bamboo shoots and spring produce over—use the chance to ask around.”

Fang Youliang immediately agreed, but then wondered aloud, “If it’s just asking around in the city, wouldn’t paying a few coins to the gossipmongers do the trick? They might know too.”

Qi Beinan laughed. “Those know-it-alls certainly know—but what good does it do you? At most, they tell you which alley a hairdresser lives in. But how are you going to get in touch with her? What matters is getting a foot in the door.”

Just like how they sought a teacher for Xiao Yuanbao—while Matchmaker Qiao knew of Jiang Fulang, she couldn’t actually get him accepted as a student. In the end, they had to go through Village Head Zhao for it to work.

Fang Youliang suddenly understood. “Then I’ll do as you say.”

Within two days, Fang Youliang came back with news.

In idle conversation with Foreman Liu, the man said that there’s a hairdresser in Jiaozi Alley who styles the magistrate’s wife’s hair—very skilled, and well-known.

Qi Beinan asked, “Then have you found out whether he actually knows her?”

“Liu’s wife has hired that hairdresser before. Only a couple of times, but they do know each other.”

Qi Beinan understood—this meant they needed to approach through the Liu household.

With families like the Fangs, it’s hard to offer meaningful favors to someone like Foreman Liu. So when asking for help, they could only present a gift.

But a truly impressive gift to stir someone’s heart wasn’t something the Fang family could afford. In that case, they’d have to be clever—find out what the Liu family liked.

Qi Beinan told Fang Youliang to find out everything he could—what Liu couple liked to eat or use, how old their children were, and whether they were attending school.

He asked many things because he knew Fang Youliang might not be able to get much, but even one more detail could improve their chances.

When Xiao Yuanbao heard that Fang Jie’er also wanted to apprentice, he was very happy—but also a little worried, knowing how hard it was to find a good teacher. Even his own teacher hadn’t officially taken him in yet.

So when Fang Youliang came over, he stayed close to Qi Beinan, ears perked, listening carefully to their discussion—eager to hear the outcome.

After much back and forth, in early April, Fang Youliang finally brought news.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

The next morning, at Ping Manor.

Steward Zhu rose from the bed with a face full of cheer—he’d been entangled by Qin Niazi and had gotten up later than usual.

He lifted the bed curtain and found the room still dim. When he went to open the window, he saw the courtyard damp and muddy—it had rained.

“I told you it’d rain this morning and told you to sleep in, but you didn’t believe me,” Qin Niazi said, sitting up in bed as well. She wasn’t afraid of the cold, wearing only a red bellyband.

“How’d you know it was going to rain?”

“I heard the spring thunder last night.”

Steward Zhu thought to himself that he hadn’t heard a thing—but then grinned mischievously. With the way she had made him lose his mind last night, even her breathing had been enough to drown out the sound of thunder, let alone anything else.

A houseborn servant girl had been waiting outside with water for a while, and when she finally heard voices inside, she hurried in with the washbasin.

“Master, Lady, here’s water to wash your face and hands. Will you be eating breakfast in here or in the side room?”

“Bring it in—we’ll eat in the room,” Qin Niazi said, clearly enjoying being served.

“What’s for breakfast today?”

“We kneaded dough—there’s steamed buns, or we can make noodles. The cook said they’re waiting on your instructions.”

The servant replied, sneaking a glance at Qin Niazi.

She saw Qin Niazi sitting cross-legged on the bed with the curtain wide open, her pale skin exposed in a way that made it hard to know where to look—especially that bit of cloth across her chest, which barely covered anything.

The servant girl blushed furiously and quickly lowered her head.

“Noodles then. Tell the kitchen to ladle a spoonful of sautéed fresh bamboo shoots and minced pork over them.”

The servant responded and retreated, shutting the door behind her before heading to the kitchen.

“That woman—yesterday she wanted shepherd’s purse wontons, now it’s meat noodles. Always picking the dishes with meat,” grumbled the cook.

“She’s spoiled rotten by the steward,” the servant said as she helped stoke the fire, then quietly described what she had seen in the room.

The kitchen quickly filled with scornful muttering.

Unaware of it all, Qin Niazi got dressed at her leisure, completely unbothered about hiding from Steward Zhu—sparking yet another round of lust from him, and they tangled together once more.

Though the weather was cold, they worked up a sweat.

Wiping her face and neck with a wet cloth, Qin Niazi, seeing the man grinning in satisfaction, took the chance to say:

“I’ve lived comfortably here with you, but in my heart, something still feels off.”

Steward Zhu, now doting and softhearted, quickly asked, “What’s wrong? Who’s giving you trouble?”

“No one dares cross me,” Qin Niazi replied. “They all fear your authority. But the better I live, the more I can’t stop thinking about my son. That child’s got no father or mother to care for him, and my family doesn’t love him much—I can’t help worrying.”

“How kindhearted of you as a mother. If you’re worried about him, I’ll send some rice and meat to your family for him.”

Qin Niazi saw his openness and pushed further: “You’re kind, but sending food doesn’t mean the boy will actually get to eat it.”

Steward Zhu asked, “Then what do you want to do?”

“Why don’t I bring him here?” she said, poking at his chest. “He can help the kitchen maids learn some work. Didn’t you say that if he’s clever, you’d recommend him to the household in Jinling? But if he never learns anything, how can he go?”

Steward Zhu hesitated, and Qin Niazi pretended to grow upset.

“What—were all those promises just sweet talk? I left the moment I was divorced and came here to be with you, never mind what others said about my reputation. If I’d known this, I shouldn’t have let you help me up that day when you first came to the manor. I let my heart go to waste.”

Flustered, Steward Zhu said quickly, “Alright, alright, I’ll agree. Bring him over—this manor can feed another mouth.”

Qin Niazi beamed, already feeling like she could command wind and rain here.

Soon, breakfast was served, and the two of them enjoyed their noodles comfortably in the bedroom.

Not long after, the servant girl returned again. “Master, someone’s here to see you.”

“Who?” Steward Zhu asked. “Someone from the village looking for work?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. It’s a young man—says his name is Qi Beinan.”

The moment she heard the name, Qin Niazi, who’d been happily slurping noodles, froze and her face changed. “What’s he doing here?”

“You know him?”

“He’s the one who came leeching off the Xiao family.”

Thinking of the scolding she’d received from Madam Zhang at the Zheng family’s feast, Qin Niazi’s face burned with shame. She’d known she couldn’t outargue the Village Head’s wife, so instead she resented Qi Beinan and the Xiao family even more.

“Probably here to ask a favor. Ignore that clingy pest—let him stand out there in the rain and wind a while before sending him off.”

Seeing her displeasure, Steward Zhu waved at the servant girl and nodded. “Do as she says.”

The servant girl left but thought to herself—this young man was sharp indeed.

He’d said earlier that if Qin Niazi refused to let him in, then deliver this message: “If I can’t see the master, then I ask him to kindly pass along my greetings to Lord Jiang.”

Steward Zhu gulped down the mouthful of noodles he had just sucked in. “Greet who?”

The servant girl, born and raised on this manor, only knew that the steward was the highest-ranking person here—she had no idea who the master above him was. She answered blankly, “Greet Lord Jiang.”

Steward Zhu immediately changed his mind. “Bring the guest to the hall, serve him a cup of tea—I’ll be right there.”

“Yes, sir,” the servant girl replied and went out with the message.

“What are you doing?” Qin Niazi asked, annoyed as she gave him a playful shove. “Didn’t you say to send him away? Now you’re giving him tea? Do you even know how he used to treat me at the Xiao household?”

Steward Zhu replied, “Don’t worry, I’m just going to sound him out. Best not to act rashly and miss something important.”

Qi Beinan sat in the reception hall and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the rain off his clothes.

He hadn’t arrived particularly early, and with the rain slowing his steps, he hadn’t expected that life on the manor was so leisurely that even the steward hadn’t yet risen.

He accepted the hot tea the servant girl brought him without hesitation, warming up slightly as he drank.

The name of Lord Jiang worked like a charm—within moments, Steward Zhu emerged with a wide, flattering smile.

Qi Beinan sized him up: a round face, large nose—not ugly, but not pleasant either. His features were unfamiliar. Qi Beinan was sure they had never met.

“Apologies for keeping you waiting, young master. Something in the house held me up.”

“No trouble. I came without prior notice—please forgive the intrusion,” Qi Beinan said with a bow.

The Jiang family hailed from a scholarly background, and Zhu Yongxian immediately recognized that Qi Beinan was a learned man.

This made him more cautious, and his tone softened even further.

“I’m newly stationed here at Ping Manor, and didn’t know what brought young master to visit today.”

“It’s not a pressing matter. I heard Steward Zhu recently arrived from Jinling, so I thought I’d pay a visit and ask whether Lord Jiang is in good health. He has always been upright and diligent in his service to the people. Now that he’s a prefect in Jinling—a bustling city—I worry he may be overworked.”

Zhu Yongxian’s expression shifted. “Yes, our lord has always been that way—serving the nation and the people. Fortunately, his health remains strong.”

Hearing this, Qi Beinan revealed a sincere smile of relief.

“He’s always had a fondness for pickled cucumber fish with chive blossom—does he still enjoy it?”

Zhu Yongxian was taken aback. This young man even knew their lord’s favorite dish? If not for someone from his family working in the main kitchen, he—Steward Zhu, working in the outer manor—wouldn’t even know that.

“It’s rare for someone to be so thoughtful. The lord’s appetite is good, and that’s why his health is so well.”

Qi Beinan continued, “And how is Fourth Young Master Jiang? I heard he’s now studying at Qiushan Academy—is everything going well?”

Zhu Yongxian let out a slow breath. “Yes, very well. The Fourth Young Master is progressing in his studies, and our lord is very pleased.”

Qi Beinan nodded, locking eyes with him. “In that case, I’m sure he’ll achieve good results in this year’s examination.”

“Yes, yes. The Fourth Young Master is diligent—he’s bound to succeed.”

Just a few lines, and Zhu Yongxian’s curiosity about Qi Beinan’s background had reached its peak.

He politely chatted a bit more about the Jiang family before carefully asking about Qi Beinan’s connection to them.

Naturally, Qi Beinan wouldn’t give a clear answer. He spoke vaguely, dropping hints at every turn:

“I’m from Jiangzhou. My late father was a xiucai. Lord Jiang has always cared for scholars.”

Zhu Yongxian gasped, “You’re an old acquaintance from the lord’s hometown—what a serious oversight on my part.”

Qi Beinan replied modestly, “To call myself an old friend would be too much. Lord Jiang is a high official—I wouldn’t dare claim such closeness. I simply couldn’t help but ask after his health.”

Zhu Yongxian’s mind raced. The Jiang family did indeed come from scholarly roots and were known to treat scholars well, but they weren’t so generous as to consider every scholar kin.

This young man was from Jiangzhou, knew of Lord Jiang’s current post, even knew about his food preferences and his son’s academic progress. That level of detail wasn’t something a mere outsider could uncover.

Besides, Jiangzhou and Ling County were far apart. How could someone without the right connections even gather news from Jinling?

Sweat started to bead on Zhu Yongxian’s back. Thank heavens he hadn’t been rude. If he had slighted someone with a true connection to the Jiang family and the master ever found out, he’d be in serious trouble.

Qi Beinan’s modest denial, in Zhu’s mind, only proved his humility. He carefully offered him another cup of tea.

“To think the manor still hosts one of the lord’s old acquaintances—I was nearly negligent. Young master, please don’t take offense.”

Qi Beinan knew he had taken the bait. He said, “You’re too polite, Steward Zhu. I only came to pay my respects—I had no intention of disturbing Lord Jiang or Fourth Young Master.”

“It’s rare to meet a friend from one’s homeland in a distant place. Our lord is a nostalgic man. He often says he’d like to retire and return home. If he knew an old friend was thinking of him, he’d be delighted.”

Zhu Yongxian added warmly, “Let me have the kitchen prepare a few dishes. Young master must stay and share a meal with us.”

Qi Beinan paused. “I heard that my former aunt is now living here with Steward Zhu. She’s truly fortunate. I haven’t seen her in some time and was just thinking of her—she always made an excellent soup.”

Zhu Yongxian jumped up. “I’ll have her cook something special for you.”

Qi Beinan raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want to trouble her.”

“No trouble at all—she’s been idling around lately. She’d be happy to make a few dishes for you.”

Qi Beinan turned to Zhu Yongxian and said, “Steward Zhu wouldn’t know, but my aunt has always been a kind soul. She never says it aloud, but she’s deeply thoughtful.”

“She even mentioned me during the March Third banquet at the Zhengs’ house. When Village Head Zhao’s wife told me, I was really surprised. I thought Auntie had long since forgotten me.”

Zhu Yongxian had indeed heard about the scuffle between Qin Niazi and the village head’s wife during that March Third gathering.

When he first arrived, he had planned to ask Qin Niazi to apologize to the Zhao family’s matron.

But Qin Niazi had pleaded with tearful complaints, saying the village head’s wife was rough and unreasonable—embarrassing her in front of everyone.

Zhu Yongxian had sided with her, thinking, “She’s my woman now—if someone treats her like that, they’re disrespecting me.”

So he’d been holding some resentment toward the Zhao household.

But now hearing what Qi Beinan said, he glanced at Qin Niazi—who quickly avoided his gaze.

“I’ll take my leave now,” she tried to excuse herself.

“Stay right there.”

Zhu Yongxian said coldly, “Young Master Qi has come to dine—you, his aunt, shouldn’t you stay and accompany him?”

Qin Niazi didn’t dare disobey and had no choice but to sit back down.

“Have you no sense? Who said you could sit and eat with our guest like an equal? Your job is to serve him—pour the tea and help him to food.”

Qin Niazi’s face turned red. Embarrassed, she stood up again and poured tea for Qi Beinan with trembling hands.

Qi Beinan thought: this steward does know how to enforce discipline.

“Auntie,” he said casually while eating, “why didn’t you let Brother Fang help out yesterday? I heard he came asking to work for Steward Zhu.”

“You know how strong he is. Even the county office gave him a labor permit once—they praised him for his hard work.”

Qin Niazi froze. She knew now why this brat had really come—he wasn’t up to anything good.

She forced out a smile. “I thought Brother Fang had too much on his hands at home. I was just worried he’d be too busy.”

“Oh, I see. I almost thought you didn’t like the Fang family. Didn’t you once mistake their child for stealing money?”

“N-no, of course not!”

Qin Niazi was flustered and didn’t dare look Zhu Yongxian in the eye.

Zhu Yongxian followed up smoothly: “You’re talking about the brother who came looking for work yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“I saw his frame—broad shoulders and strong arms—clearly a solid worker. When you go back, tell him for me to come work. I only held him back ‘cause your aunt said he might be tied up with the farm work. We can’t let such a strong hand go to waste.”

Qi Beinan smiled and agreed.

After the meal, he sat a while longer before finally taking his leave.

Qin Niazi had served like a servant the whole time. Just as she finally thought she could breathe easy seeing him about to go, she noticed Zhu Yongxian didn’t care for her at all—he not only escorted Qi Beinan out of the manor but also mentioned Xiao Hu, even inviting him to keep delivering mountain goods to the manor.

He said something about how wind-cured produce was just right for sending to the main household as a New Year gift.

Qin Niazi was so furious she clutched her face and ran back to her room, collapsing onto the bed and sobbing until she was breathless.

Her heart was bitter. That brat was a real demon—he had some kind of supernatural ability.

She had clearly gone off to live a better life, yet he still found a way to suppress her and make her suffer.

Just a few days ago, she’d already lost face at the Zhengs’ place. Now this little bastard had even come to her doorstep, making her pour tea and serve him like some young master.

And all these men—how could they all be fooled by him?

First the hunter, then the Fang family, now even the village head’s household, and now this damn steward too…

She really must’ve burned through all her luck in her past eight lives to end up crossing paths with that boy.

She had no idea which deity was watching over him, but everyone seemed to help him, take his side.

From that day on, Qin Niazi was so angry she fell ill, lying in bed for five or six days straight.

Zhu Yongxian, feeling a bit sorry for her, eventually brought over Wang Chao. Only then did Qin Niazi’s condition begin to improve.

But that’s a story for another time.

When Qi Beinan returned home, Xiao Hu had already left with an umbrella to pick up Xiao Yuanbao from the neighboring village, unable to wait any longer.

With no one home, Qi Beinan stopped by the Fang household on the way and passed on Zhu Yongxian’s message to Fang Youliang.

But Fang Youliang wasn’t home—only Fang Jie’er was there, washing clothes under the eaves, and the Old Fang was lying in bed, sick.

The weather was cold and rainy, and the old man had been coughing badly.

“Thank you, Mister Qi, for going back and forth for our family.”

“No need for polite words.”

Qi Beinan said, “Just let your brother know. Xiao Bao’s coming back today—I’ll head home Jie’er get some hot water ready.”

Fang Erjie suddenly called out, “Wait a moment. I just made some new hair oil, peach blossom scented—bring it back for Yuanbao.”

She rushed inside and returned with a small porcelain bottle of hair oil. Qi Beinan took it and gave it a sniff—it was indeed fragrant.

“Xiao Bao’s hair is soft and thin. He should eat more black beans, red dates, and walnuts ground into powder. It’ll help make his hair thick and black.”

Qi Beinan said, “You don’t just braid well, you even know how to care for hair.”

Fang Jie’er smiled with pursed lips. “I only know these useless things.”

She blamed herself for being of little use. If she’d agreed to the marriage the matchmaker brought, she might’ve been able to help the family—but she couldn’t resign herself to such a life.

She’d been feeling heavy-hearted these past few days.

Qi Beinan said, “How is that useless? This is talent. In the city, there are professional hairdressers who make a living braiding hair for ladies in wealthy households.”

“If your skill is good, you won’t just get by—you’ll live respectably.”

Fang Jie’er’s heart stirred. “There really is such work? I’ve been stuck in the fields since I was little—short-sighted as I am, I never knew braiding hair could be a real trade.”

“There are all kinds of trades. As long as your skill is honed, you can make a living.”

Qi Beinan said, “There’s all kinds of business in the city—more than one could imagine.”

“Thanks again for the hair oil. I’ll be off now.”

Fang Jie’er stood under the eaves, watching Qi Beinan walk away under the umbrella. Her eyes lit up, and she stood there for a long while, lost in thought.

…

Rainy days darkened the sky early.

Back home, Qi Beinan spent a good while writing by lamplight, until the room suddenly seemed too dim.

He stepped outside and realized it had gotten quite late, the rain falling even heavier now.

He fetched some rice to rinse and started cooking.

“Gege!”

Just as he scooped the water, a cheerful voice called from the courtyard.

He stepped out to find that little scamp had come home.

Xiao Yuanbao was lying on Xiao Hu’s back, arms stretched upward holding an umbrella.

The umbrella was large and heavy, tilting side to side in his grip. The small bundle slung across his back was soaked through. His fine hair was a wet mess, plastered with droplets like sugar-frosted threads, and he looked like a drowned little pup.

Qi Beinan hurried forward and lifted him down.

Only when he got home did Xiao Yuanbao realize how cold he was—he shivered and burrowed into Qi Beinan’s warm arms.

“Where’s Jiang Fulang?”

“Teacher went home.”

Xiao Yuanbao hadn’t seen Qi Beinan for a day and a night. Seeing that not a single piece of him was missing, he was overjoyed.

His rain-chilled little face nuzzled into Qi Beinan’s neck, seeking warmth and closeness.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

The next day, after lunch, Jiang Fulang came to take Xiao Yuanbao with him.

Qi Beinan carried a bundle of peaches, keeping two for Xiao Hu, who was expected to return from the mountain that day. The rest he used as a polite gift and brought to the Zhao household.

The early March midday weather was warm. Village Head Zhao had gone out early to urge spring plowing and measure the fields and was now taking a nap.

Madam Zhang had gone to visit her family in town, and the hired hand was dozing off in a corner by the gate.

When he saw Qi Beinan approaching, he jolted awake and nearly tripped, then quickly led him inside.

Only Zhao Guangzong was still indoors, full of energy, studying.

Qi Beinan picked up one of the practice calligraphy sheets on the desk and scanned it at a glance.

Zhao Guangzong, noticing this, immediately put down his book and looked rather nervous, like a student being examined by a teacher.

“How is my calligraphy coming along?”

Qi Beinan looked over the imitated Cold Food Festival Poem Manuscript and nodded. “It’s improved.”

“Really?”

Hearing this, a smile bloomed on Zhao Guangzong’s face.

Qi Beinan said, “Compared to before, your characters have taken form.”

Zhao Guangzong could tell Qi Beinan wasn’t flattering him, and he grew even more pleased.

Since leaving the private school, he’d been studying at home behind closed doors and felt that he could now concentrate better than when he had studied under Old Man Chen.

Back then, he was always fearful of Old Man Chen, trying hard to write well and study diligently just to gain his approval.

Now that he was far removed from him—without the constant threat of the rod—his hand was steadier, and his brushstrokes smoother.

His mind also seemed clearer. After reading a passage three times, he could remember most of it. With further effort, he could recite it fluently.

Plus, with Qi Beinan’s handwritten notes, he had gained many new insights while reading.

He pulled over a stool and invited Qi Beinan to sit, speaking with genuine eagerness. “Your handwriting is exceptional—could you give me a few pointers on these scribbles of mine?”

Qi Beinan chuckled. “Is there anything in particular that’s troubling you?”

“I can now imitate the shapes well enough, but I still feel like something’s missing. It’s not that I’m trying to compare myself to you, but after looking at your characters and then back at mine, mine feel like flashy but hollow tricks.”

Qi Beinan said, “That realization shows you’ve started to apply your mind.”

He pointed to the copybook. “Writing is like being a person—form alone is not enough; there must be spirit. And where does the spirit come from? It comes from the hand of the person who wrote it. That spirit must be infused into the work.”

“When one first learns to write, imitation is key. You copy the brushwork, the structure, and the strengths of others—but you can’t rely on imitation forever. You have to begin forming your own thoughts and insights. Otherwise, what you write will always be someone else’s—it may have form, but no soul.”

Zhao Guangzong raised his brows, having been enlightened by this explanation.

He asked, “Then should I stop imitating and start composing on my own?”

Qi Beinan shook his head. “Not yet. As you imitate, try to place yourself in the mindset of the great masters who wrote those pieces. Imagine what they were feeling when they wrote it. Immerse yourself. When you put brush to paper, don’t let your strokes be restrained—write boldly and from the heart.”

Zhao Guangzong was immediately filled with excitement and eagerly began grinding ink to practice.

“You go ahead and write—I’ll go wash two peaches for us.”

Village Head Zhao had heard that Qi Beinan was visiting and got up from his kang bench to dress.

As he passed by Zhao Guangzong’s room, he overheard Qi Beinan giving calligraphy guidance and didn’t dare interrupt.

Lately, his Guangzong had been studying diligently at home, often bursting into laughter while reading.

Village Head Zhao had been busy running around seeking a new private tutor and had been worried his son might give up on studying after all the setbacks.

Now, seeing him so focused at home, his heart was at ease.

He’d heard time and again that Qi Beinan was a man of talent and insight. Hearing a bit of his instruction today, he finally understood why.

A good teacher and a virtuous friend—Guangzong was truly fortunate.

“Village Head.”

Qi Beinan came out and ran into the thoughtful Village Head Zhao, greeting him with a bow.

“The hired hand said you’d arrived. I was just thinking of coming to greet you.”

Village Head Zhao greeted him warmly. “Come, have some tea with me in the hall.”

As the two drank tea together, Qi Beinan expressed his thanks for Madam Zhang having spoken up for him at the gathering in the Zheng household.

“There’s no need to thank me. It was Qin Niazi who was in the wrong.”

Village Head Zhao said, “Even if it wasn’t you, she still needed to be taken down a notch.”

Qi Beinan said, “It’s just that now she’s favored at the manor—I worry she’ll strain your relationship with the estate.”

Village Head Zhao waved his hand. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t have anything on me. I don’t ask him for favors, either. But I’m more worried that Qin Niazi’s personality might cause trouble for your family.”

“If she bothers you again, just come tell me.”

Qi Beinan’s heart warmed slightly, and he thanked the village head.

Then he asked about the background of Ping Manor.

“Ping Manor? It used to be barren land. That year we had an influx of disaster victims in the county, and the magistrate led people to clear the land and settled them there.”

Qi Beinan said, “So it’s the magistrate’s property?”

Village Head Zhao nodded. “Back then, he was just the county magistrate. That was over twenty years ago—he’s long since been promoted and transferred.”

“As for stewards, this Zhu fellow is the third one already. I heard from the previous steward that their master now holds a position in Jinling—he’s a sixth-rank circuit judge.”

Qi Beinan felt a ripple of surprise in his heart. He paused, then cautiously asked, “Do you know his surname?”

“Let me think… it’s the eleventh year of Kaide now, so the county magistrate from twenty years ago… if I’m not mistaken, his surname was Jiang!”

“There aren’t many people surnamed Jiang around here. Otherwise, to be honest, I might not have remembered. We’d have to ask one of the village elders to be sure.”

Qi Beinan asked again, “Would you happen to know if this former Magistrate Jiang was from Jiangzhou?”

Village Head Zhao said with some difficulty, “That I can’t say. It was too long ago. But if you really want to know, I can ask around for you.”

Truth be told, upon hearing the surname, post, and location, Qi Beinan already had a good guess in mind.

Barring some huge coincidence, this Ping Manor estate likely belonged to his old friend Jiang Tangyuan’s family.

In the eleventh year of Kaide—this very year—was when he had gone to Jinling to study at Qiushan Academy.

At the time, Jiang Tangyuan had also gone with his father to their post and was studying at the same academy.

They were assigned to the same dorm and, since they were both from Jiangzhou and shared similar temperaments, quickly became inseparable.

That year, during the academy’s New Year break, Jiang Tangyuan—knowing he was alone with no family—dragged him home to celebrate.

He remembered clearly: Father Jiang was then serving as a magistrate in Jinling.

During a wine-soaked meal, Father Jiang had shared stories from his early career to encourage the two boys to study hard.

Among them, he spoke of his first post as a new official—county magistrate in Ling County.

The Jiang family were kind people. Learning that Qi Beinan was orphaned and studying far from home, they looked after him often during his time at Qiushan Academy.

Had it not been for the Jiang family’s care, those years would have been much rougher.

Qi Beinan felt a pang of reflection—his father had given him a good name indeed.

“Beinan”—north and south. A man who walks between them.

And so he had. He’d traveled north and south, seen many places, met many people.

But now, he would not walk those same roads again, nor would he necessarily meet those old friends along the way.

He wondered whether, without him at Qiushan Academy, Jiang Tangyuan still slept through morning roll calls and got scolded for being late all the time.

When the summer heat rolled in, did anyone still crawl out through the dog hole under the courtyard wall to fetch icy mung bean soup?

Qi Beinan shook the thoughts away. Though the past roads had been vibrant, he did not regret his path.

What he had now—peace and stability—was far more precious.

If fate allowed, he would surely meet Jiang Tangyuan again someday.

When Qi Beinan returned home, Xiao Hu had also come back.

Stepping into the courtyard, he realized the house was lively. Fang Youliang had come up the mountain, and the two men were sharing wine.

“Just in time, Village Head gave me a bowl of pickled pig’s trotters with fresh bamboo shoots to go with the wine.”

Fang Youliang accepted it. “Looks like I’ve benefited from your luck.”

“I brought up a few salted duck eggs and century eggs too. Peel one and try. My mother just finished preparing them.”

“Great.”

Qi Beinan sat down. He was also starting to learn how to drink, though he drank little—mostly to keep them company.

Xiao Hu saw he returned alone and asked after Xiao Yuanbao. He replied the child had gone off with his teacher. Xiao Hu paused for a moment, then said he would go fetch him the next day.

Qi Beinan was happy to hear that.

“Brother Fang, what brings you up here drinking in the middle of spring work?”

During the spring plowing season, the fields required constant attention. Fang family worked their own land, unlike theirs, which they rented out. There was rarely time to sit idle—especially in the afternoon.

“I went down to the manor earlier and happened to run into Brother Xiao on his way back down, so we came up together to share a drink.”

“What did you go to the manor for?”

“I heard they were hiring people to carry manure, paid fifty wen a day. Our land is all prepped, and I had a bit of free time, so I thought I’d earn a few coins.”

Qi Beinan saw the frustration on his face. “So they didn’t take you?”

“No reason they wouldn’t. That job’s hard work, and the pay isn’t great—there aren’t many people fighting for it.”

“Exactly,” Fang Youliang said bitterly. “The steward took one look at me, saw I was strong, and agreed right away. Then that Qin Niazi came out and saw me. Said all sorts of sarcastic things and insisted I not be hired. The steward, trying to please her, sent me away.”

Xiao Hu had already heard about Qin Niazi remarrying and returning to the village.

He didn’t respond to Fang Youliang’s words. Whatever he was feeling, he just took another hard drink.

Qi Beinan said, “So that Steward Zhu listens to Qin Niazi.”

“Who knows what kind of love potion she fed him. He’s clearly lost all sense.”

Fang Youliang sighed. “Looks like she’s out to mess with both our families now.”

He was extremely frustrated. Just yesterday, a matchmaker came to propose a marriage for his Fang Jie’er. It should’ve been a joyous occasion.

But when they asked what kind of man he was, they were only told that he came from a family with money and was willing to offer twenty strings of cash for the bride price.

His mother found that strange and asked more questions—turned out the man was mentally impaired.

The matchmaker tried to persuade them, saying that if they married off his sister for a high bride price, he’d have enough money to marry a wife himself.

He was so angry he didn’t let her stay a moment longer and drove her out.

“I may be poor, but I won’t sell off my own sister. I was hoping to save up enough money to give her a proper dowry and find her a good family. That matchmaker insulted us.”

Qi Beinan also sighed, “Matchmakers from outside aren’t like those in our own village who know the people well. As long as they’re paid, they’ll talk up any sort of family. Don’t take it to heart.”

Fang Youliang blamed himself. “It’s my fault for being useless. Fang Jie’er’s still crying in the house right now.”

Qi Beinan paused for a moment. He hadn’t wanted to get involved with Qin Niazi, but it seemed like even if he didn’t want to go, he’d have to now.

“I’ll go meet that Steward in a day or two. Let’s see what kind of man he really is.”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

The third day of the third lunar month was the Shangsi Festival.

On this day, Madam Li of the Zheng family hosted two banquet tables.

She invited a few well-connected and well-liked women and husbands from the village, those she usually got along with, to her home for food and wine.

The Zhengs were considered one of the wealthiest families in the village. Zheng Dalang was renowned for his carpentry across the surrounding ten villages and even owned a successful shop in the county.

Their countryside home was built beautifully—whitewashed walls, blue-tiled roof, and a wide, spacious courtyard.

The household was generous, and Madam Li enjoyed making connections. She often held banquets and invited guests for food and drink.

Madam Li was the daughter of a tofu shop owner from the county, fair and lovely in appearance. After meeting Zheng Dalang, she married into the village.

Zheng Dalang treated her well—after twenty years of marriage, she’d never been asked to do fieldwork, and together they had five sons.

In rural households, having many sons was highly valued. Madam Li’s fertility brought her favor from the elders in the Zheng family, and her days were far more comfortable than most wives and husbands.

“Knowing I was hosting today’s banquet for Madam Li, Old Zheng went to my father’s shop early in the morning to bring back fresh tofu, just so I could treat everyone properly.”

Madam Li smiled as she spoke to Madam Zhang, “Try it later and see if it suits your taste. Bring some back to make tofu soup for Guangzong—he’s been studying hard lately, take care of his health.”

Madam Zhang replied, “He loves your tofu, always says it’s tender and sweet. He’s lucky to have you looking out for him.”

Madam Li was known for her friendliness. After marrying into the village, it was only natural she became close with the village head’s wife, Madam Zhang.

Not to mention they were old acquaintances—their family shops were on the same alleyway in the county.

Several familiar faces sat together in the room. Even the matchmaker, Madam Qiao, was present, sipping tea and chatting idly.

They talked about how the weather this year had been good, with plenty of rain—great for the crops.

They also discussed which girls and boys in the village had come of age and whose marriages were being arranged.

Just as the chatter was in full swing, a voice suddenly called in from the courtyard:

“Madam Li, I’m late!”

The women inside paused. The voice was unfamiliar, and all craned their necks to see who it was.

It was Qin Niazi, who had gone to be a concubine at the manor!

“What’s she doing here?”

Seeing Madam Li smiling and going out to welcome her, Madam Zhang muttered under her breath.

Sitting beside her, Matchmaker Qiao paused in her seed-cracking and said,

“Madam Li is well-connected—how could she not reach out to someone from the manor? We women can’t exactly invite the menfolk to our homes to drink, so we naturally invite their pillow companions.”

Madam Zhang understood the reasoning. Though she didn’t much care for Qin Niazi because of Qi Beinan, she wouldn’t show it—after all, they were all Madam Li’s guests today.

Soon, Qin Niazi was led in by Madam Li, arm in arm.

She wore her hair in the latest spring bun style popular in the city, adorned with a peach blossom silver comb.

Her jacket was a fine cloth in a rose shade embroidered with a joyous bird, and she wore a light-colored skirt. Though she was in her early thirties, she had dressed herself to appear fresh and youthful.

“I came in a rush, didn’t bring anything special. Just a bottle of pomegranate wine and two packets of cherry crisps, something for everyone to nibble on during the festival.”

As she lifted the items, the two silver rings on her index and middle fingers glinted.

Everyone in the room murmured in surprise. They had heard life was good for those at the manor, but they hadn’t expected her to look this prosperous.

If even a concubine was dressed in silver and fine fabrics, what must the main wife be wearing—silk and gold?

They couldn’t quite figure out just how wealthy that Steward Zhu really was, but seeing Qin Niazi’s presentation, it was clear she was favored.

Everyone had their own thoughts.

Though they had once looked down on her, now that she looked so well-off, they all quickly warmed up to her:

“I’ve only ever heard of cherry crisps—they’re so expensive. Thanks to Madam Li’s banquet, we get to taste some today!”

Qin Niazi, pleased with the flattery, said with a smile, “If you like them, Liu Fulang, I’ll send some to you another day.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose.”

“Madam Qin, don’t just stand there—come sit down. Have some tea to moisten your throat. The days in March aren’t as cold as before. The weather’s finally brightening up.”

Madam Kong, who had just greeted her, called her over as well.

Qin Niazi responded with a smile, sat down, took a sip of tea, and glanced around the room.

She recognized everyone: Madam Zhang of the village head’s household, Matchmaker Qiao, Liu Fulang who dealt in fresh fish from their own pond, and Madam Kong who owned the most land in the village…

All of them were from wealthy families.

“Madam Qin, your silver rings are quite lovely. I have one too, but it looks ugly on me.”

“I’d say it’s not the ring that’s ugly—it’s just that Madam Qin has such nice hands. Slender and elegant—anything would look good on them.”

Several women sitting near her began praising her.

Liu Fulang joked, “I’m just teasing. These hands of mine are rough like wooden mallets from all the housework. Nothing looks good on them.”

Qin Niazi felt euphoric. She thought to herself: coming here today was absolutely worth it.

Back when she was still in the Xiao household, she had never even dared to cozy up to these people—they’d all looked down on her.

But the wheel of fortune turns. Who would’ve guessed these same folks would now flatter her?

Being praised by people from well-off families was an entirely different feeling than being buttered up by poor ones.

Her heart swelled, and she began to speak louder and with more pride.

Off to the side, Madam Zhang and Matchmaker Qiao exchanged a smile and continued snacking on melon seeds.

“This batch of pumpkin seeds must’ve been stir-fried with sugar and salt—so fragrant.”

Someone with sharp eyes noticed that Madam Zhang, the village head’s wife, hadn’t said a word to Qin Niazi since her arrival. Rather than currying favor, she stayed firmly surrounded by her own circle.

“If she’d had another path, why would she have gone to be a concubine? Life is hard for women and fulangs alike.”

“She had a decent life before—all of us villagers are kind. It’s not like I wanted to leave. If I hadn’t been forced to, who would willingly throw away their days?”

Madam Zhang had been sipping her tea and wasn’t paying much mind to whatever sob story Qin Niazi and her crowd were spinning—until a few words of pitiful lament reached her ears.

“It was that hunter who drove you out! What kind of man is that? He’s never home, you were the one taking care of the child and the house, and yet he was so heartless?”

Qin Niazi dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, her voice trembling: “That Qi boy—he wasn’t even blood-related to the Xiao family. He was only connected by a marriage arrangement made for Bao Ge’er. He clung to that to come all the way here and latch onto the household.”

“I thought it was improper for a future son-in-law to move in before the marriage, but I pitied him, having lost his parents. I figured if he wanted to stay, then fine. Who knew I must’ve offended him somehow—he kept stirring things up behind the scenes, persuading the hunter to send me back to my maiden home.”

“He must’ve still been thinking about little Sun-niang from before, thinking I stole her place, and so tried to get rid of me.”

Qin Niazi choked up. “And the hunter believed him and not me. After everything I did for that family, I ended up as the outsider.”

“Qin Niazi, you’re not afraid of divine punishment, saying things like this?”

The room, which had been filled with sympathy just moments ago, was suddenly silenced by a sharp voice.

Everyone turned to look—Madam Zhang, the village head’s wife, had spoken. The bright and open hall went so quiet you could hear the cuckoos outside.

Qin Niazi sniffled and looked mournfully at Madam Zhang. “Village Head’s wife, what do you mean by that?”

Madam Zhang stood up straight: “You know exactly why you divorced. No one here was criticizing you or picking at old wounds—but now you’re here twisting the story and pretending to be pitiful.”

“Even though you and the Xiao family parted ways, they never spoke ill of you once. Qi Beinan and the others never said a word to tarnish your name. But now you come back and turn the tables, gossiping about others at a banquet—who’s the one really stirring things up?”

Madam Zhang was clearly angry. She had intended to ignore Qin Niazi entirely, but seeing her acting pitiful and twisting the truth infuriated her. Her temper flared at once.

These days, Guangzong had no private tutor to study under—he was relying solely on the handwritten notes left behind by Qi Beinan’s late father, which Qi had gifted to him.

Even without that kindness, she wouldn’t have tolerated Qin Niazi’s dramatics, especially knowing the truth behind her being cast out: that she’d mistreated the child.

Still, neither the Xiao family nor Qi Beinan had ever complained aloud. Even during the divorce, they had shown restraint and left her some dignity.

Yet here she was, playing victim, spinning lies, and dragging others down with her.

If she didn’t cause trouble in the Xiao household, just staying in the village was enough to be an eyesore.

Qin Niazi had not expected Madam Zhang to step in so fiercely and was momentarily stunned into silence.

She resumed her performance, feigning hurt: “Village Head’s wife, you’re a righteous woman. Are you looking down on me because I’ve become a concubine?”

Madam Zhang sneered: “Save that act. A whole room full of wives and fulangs—who are you trying to impress with your nonsense?”

“Whether you’re a concubine or a main wife is your business. But spreading lies around the village—well, I don’t just look down on that. If I see it once, I’ll call it out every time!”

Liu Fulang and Madam Kong, who had been sitting near Qin Niazi, quietly shifted away. They both regretted flattering her—clearly, that silver hairpin had gone to their heads.

They realized they should’ve spoken up earlier when Qin Niazi was slandering the Xiao family and Qi Beinan. Anyone with a bit of sense would know how close the village head’s family was with Qi these days.

But Qin Niazi hadn’t noticed and kept running her mouth like a dam that had burst. Now that she’d dragged others through the mud, did she really think Madam Zhang would take it lightly?

The sharper ones stayed silent. But unfortunately, Madam Li’s younger sister from the city, unaware of village dynamics, had been echoing everything Qin Niazi said.

“Madam Zhang’s family were butchers. She’s got a fierce temper—fierce enough that even the village head has to yield. Everyone in the village knows not to cross her.”

Later, Madam Li came in, having heard the commotion, and tried to calm things down. But Madam Zhang, headstrong as ever, left without even touching the banquet food.

Matchmaker Qiao left Zheng’s house shortly after and darted straight to the Xiao household to gossip with Qi Beinan about everything that had happened.

She laughed heartily: “You should’ve seen your former aunt’s face—two layers of powder and she still couldn’t hide her embarrassment.”

“Madam Zhang may have a sharp tongue, but she’s fair. She scolded Qin Niazi in front of everyone, and now nobody dares speak to her anymore.”

“Talk about backfiring. She tried to stir up trouble and smear your name—look at her now, infamous in one afternoon.”

Matchmaker Qiao chuckled helplessly. It had been better entertainment than the banquet itself.

Qi Beinan, who knew exactly what sort of person Qin Niazi was, wasn’t surprised. He was simply grateful that Madam Zhang had spoken up for him.

“What’s the point of all her fussing again?”

Qiao Niazi said, “She’s gotten Steward Zhu’s favor now. Once people start living comfortably, they always want to find something to busy themselves with. With Steward Zhu backing her, no one dares say anything.”

Qi Beinan let out a soft laugh—there was truth in that.

“Qiao Niazi, you know Steward Zhu—any idea which wealthy household owns that estate?”

“I wouldn’t say I know him well,” she replied, “but I was somewhat acquainted with the previous estate steward. I heard their master lives in Jinling and is an official.”

Qi Beinan’s brow moved slightly. Jinling was far from Ling County, and it was quite common for prominent families or merchants to own estates scattered across the country. But for an official to have property far from his post, that would require a particular circumstance.

Either he had served in the area before, purchased land then, and didn’t sell it after being transferred, or it was a gift, or property from his wife’s family. Though the last two were less likely—more often, it was the first case.

But with just the details of “Jinling” and “an official,” there wasn’t much Qi Beinan could discern.

Qiao Niazi added, “Maybe the village head knows. You could ask him.”

Qi Beinan simply said he’d asked in passing.

A couple of days later, Jiang Fulang came by with a bundle of fresh peaches.

Qi Beinan went to make him tea, but Xiao Yuanbao snatched the tea set away and insisted on brewing it himself.

“Careful, you’ll burn your hands.”

From the kitchen came the little one’s voice: “I won’t anymore!”

Qi Beinan shook his head. You two really are something.

These days, every time Jiang Fulang passed by the Xiao house, he would drop something off.

Today it was a piece of cake, yesterday a stuffed pastry, the day before he called Xiao Yuanbao over to teach him how to make wontons.

Later that afternoon, Xiao Yuanbao came home—whether he learned to make wontons or not was unclear, but he’d eaten so much his belly was round as a drum.

Qi Beinan couldn’t help feeling a bit awkward at that point, unsure whether this was a teacher or an honorary father.

“Yangjia Village’s village head asked me to come cook for a banquet tomorrow—two meals, one the night before and one at noon the next day. I’ll take Bao Ge’er along. He’s never seen a proper full banquet yet.”

Qi Beinan immediately caught the implication: “So you’ll be staying the night out?”

“Mhm.”

Jiang Fulang replied, “We’ll leave tomorrow afternoon and be back the next night.”

Qi Beinan coughed lightly. “Wouldn’t taking Bao Ge’er along get in your way? He’s never stayed away overnight before—he might not be used to it and keep you up crying.”

Jiang Fulang said, “It won’t be a problem. Other cooks bring their apprentices, too. Learning to cook means seeing the world. There’ll be more than just me at the banquet—he’ll benefit from watching. Go out a few times and he’ll get used to it, won’t be crying over it.”

Clearly, he had thought this all through.

Qi Beinan opened his mouth but knew that Jiang Fulang was truly earnest about teaching Xiao Yuanbao, so he didn’t have the heart to turn him down.

Just then, Xiao Yuanbao came out, carefully carrying a cup of tea, and placed it in front of Jiang Fulang with a bright grin.

“Teacher, have some tea.”

Unable to refuse Jiang Fulang now, Qi Beinan turned to Xiao Yuanbao. “Your teacher wants to take you to another village to watch him cook. You’ll have to sleep out for one night. Do you want to go?”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes lit up. “There’s another banquet to watch?”

Seeing the excitement in the boy’s face, Qi Beinan immediately understood what he was thinking.

Truly… forgotten already, huh?

“Fine then, you go with your teacher tomorrow.”

Jiang Fulang saw Qi Beinan relent and finally took a sip of tea.

“I brought peaches for you all. Try them, see if they’re sweet. If Guangzong drops by, give him a couple too.”

Qi Beinan laughed. So Guangzong had also been dethroned as favorite: “I’ll save some for him.”

That night, Xiao Yuanbao was running all over the house, packing things for the trip—his first real trip away, and he was thrilled.

Clothes, not needed; toothbrush and tooth powder, essential—got to rinse daily.

Also, his comb—can’t have messy hair on the road… and the osmanthus water too, got to smell nice for the big banquet!

He carefully went over his checklist. When he turned, he saw his gege sitting by the oil lamp, holding a book but staring blankly at it.

“Gege, are you feeling unwell?”

Qi Beinan nodded. “A little.”

Xiao Yuanbao quickly dropped everything and ran over to press his hand to Qi Beinan’s forehead. “Does your head hurt?”

“No. Just my heart a little.”

Xiao Yuanbao blinked.

“Xiao Bao is only going for one night.”

Qi Beinan hadn’t expected him to catch on so quickly.

“Don’t worry, gege. There are lots of stars out tonight—tomorrow there won’t be any thunder or rain.”

He understood his gege’s unease—he used to feel the same whenever his father went up the mountain.

He patted Qi Beinan’s back and said in a coaxing tone, “If gege really gets too scared, I’ll ask Brother Zhao to come keep you company in the morning.”

Qi Beinan laughed. “Alright then. Go early, come back early.”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Xiao Yuanbao was walking with Jiang Fulang toward the Zhou family’s home.

One tall and one small figure moved down the village path, both silent, heads down, walking as if they were rushing somewhere urgently.

Xiao Yuanbao stole a glance at Jiang Fulang and noticed his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

He quietly drew in a breath, quickly looking away, and began carefully cracking the two boiled eggs he held.

Qi Beinan had cooked them in a hurry—they were still soft and slightly underdone, clinging to the shell and hard to peel.

Xiao Yuanbao picked at them gently with his fingers, but bits of egg stuck stubbornly to the shell.

Jiang Fulang was deep in thought and hadn’t spoken a word. Then suddenly the little boy beside him softly called, “Master Jiang.”

Snapping back to himself, Jiang Fulang looked down and saw the short, timid child stretching up his arm, offering him a pale, misshapen boiled egg.

The egg had been peeled poorly, full of gouges and craters. Xiao Yuanbao, a bit embarrassed, tried to cover some of the flaws with his fingers.

Jiang Fulang was momentarily stunned. Looking into those eyes—nervous, a little scared, yet still bravely trying to be kind—his heart softened.

“I already had breakfast. You go ahead and eat.”

Disheartened, Xiao Yuanbao slowly withdrew his arm.

He had thought maybe Jiang Fulang had skipped breakfast and was upset from hunger—that’s why he looked so stern.

But just as his mind wandered, Jiang Fulang unexpectedly took the other egg from his hand and began peeling it himself.

“Your brother really knows how to cook eggs. He boiled them soft, just so you wouldn’t choke on the road.”

The egg peeled cleanly this time, with only a bit of damage to the surface. Jiang Fulang handed it over, resting it lightly in his fingers.

Xiao Yuanbao blinked.

“Go on and eat. There’s work to do soon—you won’t make it to noon on an empty stomach.”

At once, Xiao Yuanbao was delighted again. He quickly took the egg and stuffed it into his mouth in one big bite.

Jiang Fulang watched his puffed-out cheeks as the boy chewed determinedly, like a little calf.

He couldn’t help but laugh a little and reached out to hold Xiao Yuanbao’s soft little hand.

Together, the two of them headed toward the Zhou family.

Though it was still early, the Zhou household was already lively.

The banquet wouldn’t be served until the evening, but even preparing three to five tables of food meant starting early in the morning.

Friends of the family and close relatives had already arrived—six or seven folks altogether—to lend a hand.

Two capable women and their husbands, who often helped out at events, were frequent collaborators of Jiang Fulang’s. They were familiar faces.

Today, when they saw Jiang Fulang arrive alone but with a fair, delicate child in tow, they were quite surprised.

“Whose child is this?”

Xiao Yuanbao, who lived at the foot of the mountain, rarely came out before due to Qin Niazi keeping him indoors. Many of the village women and husbands didn’t recognize him.

Jiang Fulang greeted the familiar helpers and said, “He’s Bao Ge’er from the Xiao household.”

“The hunter’s family at the foot of the hill?”

Jiang Fulang nodded.

“My, he’s gotten so tall already. After Sun Yuan passed, I barely saw this child again.”

“I thought he was a relative from your mother’s side. When I first saw him, he looked so unfamiliar I didn’t recognize him at all.”

Jiang Fulang answered simply, “Now that you’ve seen him, you’ll know him from here on out.”

He then introduced each person in the courtyard to Xiao Yuanbao one by one—the women and husbands, their names and faces.

That’s Aunt Jiao, and that’s Huang Fulang…

Since the boy would likely be helping more in the future, it was good to get him familiar with everyone early. Jiang Fulang knew Xiao Yuanbao was shy and didn’t want him to be so afraid all the time.

Though nervous at first to meet so many new people, Xiao Yuanbao had at least gained some courage from the days he’d helped Qi Beinan sell goods in the city. Strangers no longer scared him quite as much.

When Jiang Fulang introduced someone, he’d look up at the person and follow suit, addressing them politely.

Most of the folks in the courtyard had children of their own, and seeing how cautious yet well-mannered and sweet he was, they all softened toward him.

They kept calling him over to ask if he’d eaten and such.

The Zhou family hosts came out to greet Jiang Fulang and were just as warm toward Xiao Yuanbao when they realized the boy had come with him.

They even brought out some of the preserved fruits and pastries set aside for the banquet and offered them to him.

One of the hosts, curious, pulled Jiang Fulang aside. “I didn’t know you were close with the Xiao family—how come you brought one of their kids with you?”

Jiang Fulang’s expression remained unchanged, but seeing how well everyone took to Xiao Yuanbao, he felt quite pleased inside.

He said, “He’s my little apprentice. The family asked me to teach him a trade, so I brought him along to get a feel for things. Won’t interfere with cooking.”

The host laughed lightly. “With your skills, how could anyone interfere?”

“My, this child is lucky to have you as a master.”

From nearby, Aunt Jiao—who was peeling garlic—chimed in with a slightly sour tone, “Didn’t you say you weren’t taking any apprentices? How come today you suddenly changed your mind?”

Then she nudged Jiang Fulang’s shoulder and lowered her voice: “That Hunter Xiao is separated now, right? Something going on there~?”

The group of women and husbands burst out laughing.

But Jiang Fulang didn’t react much—he’d heard all kinds of teasing before. Being single for so many years, he was used to the village’s gossip and playful jabs.

If he took offense every time, he’d never be done being upset.

“Don’t be spouting nonsense. That Hunter Xiao is a fierce one. Joking like this in front of me is one thing, but if it reaches his ears, see if you don’t regret it.”

At the mention of Xiao Hu’s temper, everyone quickly reined in their laughter.

“We’re just teasing. We won’t talk about it again. But tell us, why did you take in his kid as a disciple?”

Jiang Fulang replied, “It was my cousin’s idea. How could I turn him down? Besides, it’s not like I’ve formally accepted him. I still need to observe him properly.”

Many people had tried to bring gifts and persuade Jiang Fulang in the past, only to be refused. He’d made it clear he wasn’t accepting apprentices. Now that he suddenly had, it was bound to raise suspicion.

So, he brought up his cousin as an excuse.

Those who had previously pleaded with him, upon hearing that it was the village head’s doing, though not pleased, didn’t dare say much.

After all, in the village, no one’s face carried more weight than the headman’s. And when it came to kinship, Jiang Fulang’s only real family in the village was indeed the headman’s.

“Why would the headman make such a request of you?”

Someone remained skeptical. “I don’t recall your families ever being close.”

Naturally, Jiang Fulang wasn’t about to expose Zhao Guangzong’s private matters. He said, “I don’t know either. He just called me over and asked me to take in Bao Ge’er.”

“We never had dealings with the Xiao family before, but since that new young man arrived, my nephew’s been quite close to him. My cousin and his wife are very fond of the boy.”

Everyone suddenly understood. “That young man’s surname is Qi, right? I’ve seen him once or twice. He’s really handsome, always standing straight, and very courteous.”

Jiang Fulang knew how villagers were—if you didn’t tell them anything, they’d just go dig it up on their own. And if they couldn’t find anything, they’d start making things up.

So, he said, “That’s him. He’s a scholar too—his father was a xiucai. My nephew says he’s very talented.”

Everyone was impressed. There were barely any scholars in the village; the headman’s son was one of the few. Now another promising young scholar had arrived and was close to the village head’s son—of course they were getting along.

Now that they understood, the curiosity died down.

Soon the chatter returned to the Zhou family’s celebration.

Xiao Yuanbao was off to the side, nibbling on some pastries. The host had given him a bowl of rice soup too, which helped after the dry eggs he’d eaten on the way.

He sipped quietly, but kept one eye on Jiang Fulang, worried he might wander off and leave him behind. It was his first time at the Zhou home, and his sense of unease ran deep.

He hadn’t even finished his pastry when he saw an adult bring out a bundle of cloth.

Curious, he peered closer and discovered it was a swaddled infant.

The baby’s face was no bigger than a rice bowl and was blowing spit bubbles while staring straight at him.

Xiao Yuanbao glanced down at his pastry, tore off a little piece, and slid off the bench. He scurried over.

The woman carrying the baby had a cloth tied across her forehead. She looked down to see Xiao Yuanbao tugging at her sleeve.

“What is it?”

“For the baby.”

Xiao Yuanbao held up the bit of pastry, anxious. “The baby’s blowing bubbles—he’s hungry!”

The courtyard burst into laughter at the scene.

“This little guy has such a kind heart.”

The woman laughed as she patted his head. “The baby hasn’t grown teeth yet. He can’t eat food this hard. You eat it, Bao’er.”

“He’s not hungry—just playing. That’s why he’s blowing bubbles.”

Still concerned, Xiao Yuanbao gave the baby another look. The little one smacked its lips and suddenly broke into a smile.

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes widened, then he stretched his mouth into a fake grin before finally pulling back his hand.

“These kids, they’re just too cute.”

After a round of amused talk, everyone went back to work.

With Jiang Fulang’s arrival, the courtyard shook off its earlier leisure and quickly got busy.

Peeling vegetables, washing greens, chopping…

The live chickens and ducks were soon to be butchered, pork had to be prepared for stir-frying and plating—all of it needed prepping in advance.

Jiang Fulang didn’t do the prep himself. He simply instructed what dishes and ingredients were needed.

Then he went around checking on those assisting, making sure everything was properly arranged.

He took Xiao Yuanbao along with him, using the rounds as a chance to teach him how to identify vegetables: water shield, radish, scallions…

Most rural kids could recognize produce, but not all of them could tell meat apart.

Each family’s financial situation varied, and those that couldn’t afford meat wouldn’t necessarily recognize different cuts.

So Jiang Fulang patiently taught him: front hock, hind leg, shoulder cut, belly…

And which cuts were best suited to which dishes.

“Jiang Fulang said he’d just be observing, not officially taking him on. But look how carefully he’s teaching—clearly the kid’s won his favor.”

One man whispered to his wife while slicing pork. “I’ve seen him go cook at others’ homes. He never talks this much.”

“Exactly. It must be the headman’s influence.”

That afternoon, Jiang Fulang began cooking in earnest.

The big dishes like bone soup had already been seasoned and were simmering over a newly built clay stove in the courtyard, tended by someone else.

Inside, the main kitchen stove was now at temperature. Jiang Fulang took his place at the helm, preparing to bring out the dishes one by one.

The Zhou family’s stove was a bit tall—Xiao Yuanbao could only peek over with just his eyes showing.

He went and found himself a small wooden stool, stood on tiptoe at one corner of the stove, and watched Jiang Fulang cook.

Afraid of dirtying the stool, he even picked up a piece of banana leaf used for holding meat and laid it on top.

The man stoking the fire below the stove chuckled, “Jiang Fulang’s cooking must be extra good today. Madam Zhou even brought in a little supervisor to keep an eye on him.”

Jiang Fulang glanced at Xiao Yuanbao. He didn’t say anything, but there was a barely noticeable smile in his eyes.

The Zhou family had requested ten dishes for the banquet.

Chicken, duck, fish, and pork were all available.

Jiang Fulang planned to make six meat dishes and four vegetarian ones.

The meat dishes were: duck braised with tender bamboo shoots, oven-roasted chicken, sliced pork in raw sauce, steamed preserved meat medley, sour pickled fish soup, and pork trotter with wind-dried radish soup.

The vegetarian dishes were: chilled tofu with scallions and sesame oil, stir-fried seasonal greens, pickled melon in soy paste, and water celery with glass noodle soup.

In addition, there was a plate of pastries and a plate of red-dyed boiled eggs, a traditional treat for a baby’s full-month banquet.

Xiao Yuanbao stood on the stool watching Jiang Fulang’s impressive skills, the spatula spinning like a blur in his hands.

He stood there for over an hour without getting bored, watching dish after fragrant dish come out of the wok, feeling more and more admiration.

That evening, he sat beside Jiang Fulang during the banquet, listening to people praise the aroma and flavor of each dish, all complimenting Jiang Fulang’s skills.

His excitement soared again—being good at cooking was truly amazing!

When everything finally settled down, stars had already appeared in the sky.

Once the cooking was done, Jiang Fulang didn’t need to help clean up—he could take his leave.

The dishes had turned out beautifully, and the Zhou family had earned face among their peers.

When he went to say goodbye, the host handed him a pouch of copper coins—no less than a hundred—and half a braised chicken left over from the feast.

Hiring an experienced chef usually cost at least 80 copper coins, more if the reputation was strong.

Those just starting out went for around 40 to 60.

Jiang Fulang typically charged 80 coins, but if the hiring family was struggling, he’d lower the price a little. Generous families celebrating joyous occasions often gave more.

The Zhou family was relatively well-off, and this celebration marked the birth of a chubby baby boy, so they were especially generous.

Xiao Yuanbao, walking behind Jiang Fulang, had wide eyes after witnessing the payment. He’d known cooking was a valuable skill, but hadn’t realized it could earn so much money.

After parting with the Zhou family, Jiang Fulang walked Xiao Yuanbao home.

Seeing the boy looking dazed, he asked, “Tired?”

He’d been running around all day and never once slacked off, earnestly following along. Though he hadn’t done any hands-on tasks, he’d spent the day learning ingredients. For a child, it was already impressive stamina.

Xiao Yuanbao was indeed tired—his legs felt like they weighed ten extra pounds—but his older brother had told him that learning a craft meant you couldn’t complain about being tired. Studying was the same.

So he shook his head. “No.”

Jiang Fulang didn’t press him further and smiled without a word.

Then Xiao Yuanbao reached out and took his hand, looking up with sparkling eyes: “Cooking is amazing! Not only do people praise you, you can earn money too!”

Jiang Fulang looked down at the bright expression and softened: “That’s right. You can earn money.”

“Xiao Bao wants to earn money too!”

Jiang Fulang raised his brows slightly. “And what will you do with that money?”

Xiao Yuanbao thought hard: “I’ll buy paper and brushes for my brother, and a big bow for my father.”

He paused, then added, “And… a big long spoon for Master Jiang!”

Jiang Fulang let out a low laugh. “I get a gift too? Why a long spoon?”

“Brother likes to write, so paper and brushes. Father likes the mountains, so a big bow. Master Jiang likes to cook, so I’ll buy a big spoon for cooking!”

Jiang Fulang patted his head, a strange warmth stirring in his chest, eyes soft without him even noticing.

“From now on, you can just call me ‘teacher.’”

—

At home, Qi Beinan had been waiting restlessly, reheating the water in the pot twice already.

Finally, he heard a little voice call “gege” from outside the courtyard gate.

He quickly opened the door, and the little one, gone all day, flew into his arms as soon as it opened.

Xiao Yuanbao was grinning ear to ear, his eyes crescent-shaped with joy.

Jiang Fulang said nothing more, quietly making sure the boy was home safe, then turned and left.

Only after Jiang Fulang was out of sight did Xiao Yuanbao tug Qi Beinan’s hand and skip happily into the house.

Qi Beinan followed behind slowly, smiling. “You’re this happy after just one day of learning to cook?”

“Today teacher taught Xiao Bao a lot! I learned to recognize pig trotters—they’re for soup. Pork belly—for stir-fry. Pig lungs—for stew… and lots of seasonings!”

Xiao Yuanbao chattered away, “The bitter leaf-looking one is bay leaf, the one with eight points is star anise, and the red little seeds are zhuyu…”

Qi Beinan chuckled. “You’ve got a good memory.”

Xiao Yuanbao went into the house and brought out an oiled paper packet Jiang Fulang had given him. “Teacher gave this to Xiao Bao and said to bring it home to eat with brother.”

“He can’t eat that much on his own at home.”

Qi Beinan unwrapped the parcel and saw it was half a braised chicken.

He said, “Jiang Fulang treats you quite well.”

Xiao Yuanbao was clearly pleased to hear this, lifting his face and nodding with a bright smile.

Qi Beinan told him to sit quietly and rest while he went to fetch water to wash his feet.

Less than a quarter of an hour later, when he returned with the water, Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes were already drooping.

As soon as the warm water touched his feet—like a soft hand kneading away the fatigue of the day—sleepiness overtook him instantly.

Qi Beinan looked at the little guy who had just been chatting excitedly, now nodding off like a pecking chick.

He pulled him over into his lap to keep him from toppling into the basin.

“Gege, I’m not sleepy~”

Xiao Yuanbao mumbled, but before he could finish, he had already fallen fast asleep against Qi Beinan’s leg.

Qi Beinan gently rubbed his back, then carefully washed his feet and calves with the warm water, wiping them dry.

Even through all that, the boy didn’t wake—he was truly exhausted.

Qi Beinan carried him into the room, tucked him into bed, and covered him with the quilt.

Only then did he return to pour the wash water into the drainage channel under the eaves.

…

The next morning, Qi Beinan got up early and prepared breakfast, but Xiao Yuanbao still hadn’t woken.

Usually by now, the little guy would have been up reciting from one to a hundred three times over by the stove.

Qi Beinan went to check and found him still fast asleep, lying in exactly the same position as the night before.

He gently pinched the boy’s cheek but didn’t wake him. Letting down the curtain, he left the room again and kept the food warm in the pot.

He planned to head to the fields to pull a couple of scallions to mix with radish.

“Oi, Xiao Qi! What a coincidence running into you this early. I was just thinking to come find you for a chat~”

Qi Beinan had just reached the village’s main road when he ran into a familiar face.

“Where is Madam Qiao off to so early?”

He noticed that Madam Qiao, the matchmaker, was dressed in a bright red overcoat and a long skirt—tidy and festive.

She glanced around and pulled Qi Beinan to the side.

“Let me tell you something—it’s big news!”

Qi Beinan furrowed his brow slightly. “What could it be that has you so worked up?”

“I was invited to a banquet by that Steward Zhu from the manor. They’re hosting a feast today.”

“You’re really well-connected, even the new steward from the manor knows you.”

Madam Qiao waved it off. “That’s nothing. Do you know why they’re hosting the banquet?”

Qi Beinan figured she was teasing him, as usual.

“I don’t even know most folks in the village, much less the manor.”

Madam Qiao slapped her thigh. “Your former aunt—Qin Niazi—was carried to the manor in a little bridal sedan to become Steward Zhu’s concubine!”

“What?”

Qi Beinan asked again in disbelief.

“I’m not lying! That Steward Zhu even asked me to find him someone. Just yesterday I brought him a response, and he told me he already had someone.”

Madam Qiao continued, “I wondered which matchmaker had gotten ahead of me. After asking around, turns out it was your former aunt. Today they’re holding a small, low-key wedding banquet—nothing extravagant. But mark my words, you’ll be seeing her around the village again.”

She shook her head. “What a thing. She just left your household and already found someone else. Sure, she’s free to do what she wants, but it’s still rare to see someone move on that fast—especially coming right back to the same village.”

Qi Beinan quickly recovered his composure. He immediately thought of how that Steward Zhu had specifically rejected their mountain goods before.

It all made sense now.

Back then, Qin Niazi had resisted the divorce and made a huge fuss, then suddenly agreed out of nowhere. He’d found it odd—now it was clear.

“My aunt really knows how to move on.”

Madam Qiao said, “I’m afraid now that she’s latched onto someone, she might cause your family trouble in the future.”

Qi Beinan sneered.

He hadn’t feared her even under the same roof—why would he be afraid of her now that she was under someone else’s roof?

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Jiang Fulang lived on Cat Slope, not too far from the Xiao house—if one walked briskly, it took only a quarter of an hour to get there.

Early that morning, Qi Beinan gathered a few things in preparation. Though it was just a visit to meet someone, he still felt proper etiquette required a gift.

He hadn’t expected the Village Head to make the introduction so quickly, and now he was due to call on Jiang Fulang that very morning. Otherwise, he might’ve gone to town to buy something more suitable.

Xiao Hu pulled out a pair of waterfowl. Qi Beinan searched through the house and realized there wasn’t anything particularly fine to give. He also didn’t know Jiang Fulang’s personal tastes.

Wild game was never a bad choice—almost any household would accept it. But bringing only that would make the gift seem a little too modest.

In the end, Qi Beinan decided to include the bolt of fine rattan-yellow cloud-patterned cloth he’d originally planned to use to make Xiao Yuanbao some inner clothes. Though the color was a bit bright, the material itself was fine and not cheap.

Cloth was something anyone could use, regardless of age or gender. Even without knowing Jiang Fulang’s preferences, it was unlikely to go wrong.

For the time being, this cloth would suffice. He could always take Xiao Yuanbao to the city later to buy a new bolt.

He also sealed a red envelope—one string and two hundred wen—for good luck.

Even though he wasn’t sure whether the gifts would be accepted, the act of offering and the quality of the gesture were separate matters. He wouldn’t prepare casually just because it might be declined. A host could always see whether one had come sincerely.

With everything ready on their end, Qi Beinan and Xiao Hu dressed Xiao Yuanbao neatly. The child washed his face and hands, rinsed his mouth, and dressed properly.

He took his morning wash unusually seriously that day—scrubbing his face and hands clean and brushing his teeth twice. He hoped that looking tidy would help him leave a good impression on his new teacher.

As the morning mist lifted, the three of them set off toward Cat Slope with their offerings in hand.

Jiang Fulang’s little courtyard was small—even smaller than the Xiao household, barely half its size.

Years ago, Jiang Fulang had lost his husband at a young age and had no children. His late husband’s family tried to make him remarry his deceased husband’s brother—to save on wedding costs and one less banquet.

Jiang Fulang refused. But his birth family didn’t take him back either, leaving him stuck in a difficult position.

At the time, a still-young Village Head Zhao had just inherited the post from his father. Jiang Fulang sent a letter through a third party asking for help.

Later, Jiang Fulang came to Ling Village, initially staying with the Zhao family and helping Madam Zhang care for the two older Zhao boys.

Back then, Village Head Zhao had just assumed the role and was trying to solidify his position, so he often hosted guests. Jiang Fulang already had some cooking skill and frequently helped prepare meals. Everyone who came for wine praised the food.

His name began to spread in the village. Gradually, people started hiring him for banquets. At first it was just a few tables—then a dozen or more. His skills grew with experience.

After earning some savings, he moved out and carved out a little courtyard for himself.

Many years had passed. People had nearly forgotten that he once lived at the Zhao household. These days, he was a fixture at every gathering in the village, and most folks just assumed he was born and raised in Ling Village.

It was precisely because of that past bond that he agreed to take on a student—only because the Village Head had asked.

But all that was in the past.

“They’re here.”

Jiang Fulang heard the knock and came out from inside the house.

Living alone, he kept the courtyard gate latched most of the time.

The first thing he saw was tall and stoic-faced Xiao Hu standing at the gate. Even after decades in the same village, they still looked a little unfamiliar to each other.

Then he saw Qi Beinan—the eloquent young man from the Zhao household dinner yesterday.

And finally, down below, was the small pale child being led by Qi Beinan.

Jiang Fulang gave Xiao Yuanbao a once-over but hadn’t said anything yet, when the boy’s big round eyes revealed a timid, nervous look.

He had long known he wasn’t the type of person children loved to run into their arms—those smiling, happy toddlers often turned and bawled as soon as he reached for them. When he was younger and helped care for the Zhao boys, he never once scolded them, but he still managed to frighten them more than their father could.

If the boys misbehaved, Madam Zhang only needed to mention “little uncle is coming,” and no matter how wild they were, they’d stop at once and start glancing around anxiously.

This little one clearly wasn’t the bold type either. From what Madam Zhang had said, his stepmother hadn’t treated him kindly—his nature must be even more delicate.

And now raised by two men—already admirable that they were thinking to send him to learn a trade. Jiang Fulang wasn’t one to intentionally make things difficult by acting aloof.

If he scared the child off and the boy refused to come again, his cousin might think he’d rejected the disciple on purpose.

Just as he was about to speak and invite the family in—

That little one, who’d been about to hide behind Qi Beinan, suddenly raised his eyes, looked right at him, and called out softly, “Teacher.”

As soon as he said it, he let go of Qi Beinan’s hand.

Just as Qi Beinan turned to ask why he’d released his grip, Xiao Yuanbao suddenly knelt and bowed to Jiang Fulang.

“Oh!”

Qi Beinan and Xiao Hu both startled and rushed to pull him up.

The ground was still damp from the rain. After just one bow, his knees were already muddy.

Xiao Yuanbao looked up at Qi Beinan in confusion. “Aren’t we supposed to bow to the teacher?”

“Not yet,” Qi Beinan whispered softly. Then he turned to Jiang Fulang with an awkward smile. “He’s seen others bow to their masters and only half understands.”

While Xiao Yuanbao waited at the door, his heart was already fluttering with nerves.

The moment he saw that long, stern face appear, he grew even more timid—his feet felt glued to the ground, while the wind nearly swayed him off balance.

He was afraid, but he knew that if he backed away now, his brother and father would’ve made this trip in vain.

So he steeled himself, recalling what his brother had taught him: when meeting someone, greet them first, then bow to the teacher.

He just didn’t know it wasn’t time to bow yet.

Realizing he might’ve done something wrong, he became even more flustered. His little face flushed red, and he lowered his head, pressing his lips together in embarrassment.

“Apologies for the intrusion, Master Jiang,” Qi Beinan said quickly, leading Xiao Yuanbao inside and shifting the subject with a polite tone. “We arrived a bit early—we didn’t want to risk being late and delaying your schedule.”

In Xiao Yuanbao’s mind, a teacher was someone worthy of deep respect, and kneeling to show that wasn’t wrong. But since Jiang Fulang had already said he’d need to observe him for three to five months first, bowing too soon might be seen as presumptuous—like trying to force the matter.

“I wasn’t planning to go out today anyway,” Jiang Fulang said, a bit surprised by Xiao Yuanbao’s sudden gesture. “Come inside.”

The three of them entered the small courtyard. Jiang Fulang led the way, though his gaze occasionally drifted toward the muddy patches on Xiao Yuanbao’s knees.

Then he noticed the rim of the boy’s shoes was caked with mud—it was clear he’d walked here on foot. He thought to himself, This child may look delicate and fair-skinned, but maybe he’s not as fragile as he seems.

His hair was neatly tied up in a simple topknot, oiled lightly with osmanthus—faintly fragrant.

His clothes and socks were all in proper order. The entire child looked clean and tidy.

Jiang Fulang wasn’t sure if the child had gotten ready by himself or if someone else had helped him.

He glanced at the father—thick eyebrows, big eyes, wearing freshly washed clothes, but the stubble around his mouth was rough and patchy. Clearly a man of rough hands, likely not the type to dress up a child this well.

Then he looked toward Qi Beinan…

According to Madam Zhang, he and Guangzong were the same age, and Guangzong was already a mature boy—but next to Qi Beinan, he looked like a child himself.

She also mentioned Qi Beinan had helped Guangzong leave the private school—his words were thoughtful, his insights sharp, clearly someone with a mind of his own.

It was likely Qi Beinan who’d decided to have Xiao Yuanbao study a trade.

And perhaps it was he who dressed the child, too.

Without putting on airs, Jiang Fulang invited the three to sit and poured them some tea. Casually, he asked Xiao Yuanbao, “That’s a tidy hairstyle you’ve got. Who helped you with it?”

Xiao Yuanbao blinked in surprise, realizing the teacher was speaking to him. He straightened his back and replied earnestly, “It was Fang Jie’er from Grandma Sun’s house who taught me to tie it.”

Jiang Fulang nodded silently.

Qi Beinan then offered the gifts they had brought. “Xiao Bao is still young—I fear he may trouble you for extra guidance.”

“If he has the talent, that would be ideal. But if he truly can’t take to it, we wouldn’t want to cause you trouble. You can speak plainly, and we’ll understand.”

Xiao Hu also added, “Sorry for the trouble.”

Jiang Fulang glanced over the items they’d brought—quite generous.

He had expected the Xiao family to bring something, but he wasn’t the sort to be swayed by gifts. His original intention had been to send whatever they brought right back.

Now that he’d accepted them, if the child ended up not learning anything, returning the gifts would be a hassle.

He didn’t like owing favors, but after meeting them in person, his feelings shifted slightly.

“This little one’s still young—he won’t be learning anything too demanding just yet. Won’t trouble me too much.”

Jiang Fulang continued, “I’ll keep the cloth. As for the rest, take it back. If things go well in the long run, there’ll be time to talk about it later.”

Qi Beinan nodded with a faint smile. “We’ll do as you say.”

“Starting tomorrow, whenever I have work, let Bao Ge’er come by and learn with me,” Jiang Fulang said.

When Xiao Yuanbao returned home, he was bouncing with joy—completely different from his shy demeanor at Jiang Fulang’s place.

As they left, Jiang Fulang had given him a big orange, two sweet pears, and a handful of crisp dates.

Xiao Hu, however, still felt unsure. “Xiao Bao’s a soft-tempered child. Jiang Fulang seems very stern. I don’t know if he’ll be able to keep up under him.”

Qi Beinan was also in a good mood. Hearing that, he laughed and said, “Jiang Fulang only looks strict. He’s actually a careful and kind person. I thought he wouldn’t accept any of our gifts, but he ended up keeping part of it. He didn’t say it out loud, but it’s clear he likes Xiao Bao.”

If someone didn’t like a child, they wouldn’t be so willing to accept a gift or form any connection.

Xiao Hu glanced at Qi Beinan—when put that way, it really did make sense.

He couldn’t help feeling once again that it was a blessing to have Qi Beinan at home. Without him, he wouldn’t have known how to navigate any of this.

That afternoon, Xiao Hu went to the county to quickly sell the mountain goods he had brought back and then return to the forest cabin.

Xiao Yuanbao stayed home with Qi Beinan. He was in such good spirits that he memorized five new characters in one go.

Just like that, three or five days passed. After preparing enough provisions, Xiao Hu returned to the wooden hut in the forest.

Then, early one morning, Jiang Fulang unexpectedly came by with a message: a child from the Zhou family in the village was having a full-month banquet, and they’d invited him to cook.

It wasn’t a large gathering—just a few close relatives and friends, maybe three to five tables.

It was a last-minute event, arranged hastily. Jiang Fulang had come to deliver the news and to take Xiao Yuanbao with him.

Qi Beinan hadn’t heard anything in advance—he was still in the kitchen preparing breakfast and reviewing yesterday’s characters with Xiao Yuanbao.

Now he quickly helped the child get ready. Afraid of delaying them, he boiled two chicken eggs for him to eat on the way.

The little one clutched his two eggs and hurried off with Jiang Fulang just like that.

Qi Beinan stood at the courtyard gate, watching them until their figures disappeared before finally turning back.

He knew that if Xiao Yuanbao was to learn a trade, he couldn’t always be by his side. No matter how well he protected him, there were roads the child would have to walk alone.

Still, this was the first time the boy was apart from him, and with someone he didn’t know well. He couldn’t help but worry—would the child be able to handle it?

Carrying his concerns, Qi Beinan returned to the courtyard and had just let the chickens and ducks out of their coop when Zhao Guangzong showed up.

“You’re here this early today?”

Qi Beinan made use of what he had and brewed a pot of the new tea Zhao Guangzong had given him previously.

Zhao Guangzong plopped into a chair beside the small bamboo table as if he owned the place, not immediately saying why he’d come.

He pulled out a small pouch of peach blossom cakes from his sleeve, glanced around, and noticed someone missing: “Where’s Bao Ge’er?”

“He went with your little uncle.”

Qi Beinan thought Zhao Guangzong’s timing was perfect—chatting with him for a while could keep his mind from worrying over Xiao Yuanbao.

Zhao Guangzong laughed, “No wonder you look like you’ve lost your soul—so the little disciple’s gone off with his master for the first time.”

He handed the cakes to Qi Beinan. “Don’t worry. My eldest and second brothers were both raised by my little uncle. He knows how to take care of kids.”

Qi Beinan noticed Zhao Guangzong brought food for the little one again.

These past days, nearly every visit he made, he brought something—clearly fond of Xiao Yuanbao.

Qi Beinan, ever the cautious one, played a trick:

“Even so, I can’t help worrying. You don’t know—before my father passed, he told me to take good care of Xiao Bao. He was my mother’s favored child.”

Zhao Guangzong nearly choked on his tea. “Huh? Your mother’s favored child? You—you mean—?”

Qi Beinan smiled, “This matter I’ve only told you, so keep it quiet. Wouldn’t be good if it spread.”

“Our families were actually engaged long ago. We kept in touch by letter. Otherwise, why would Uncle Xiao have allowed me to stay here after everything happened at my home?”

Zhao Guangzong suddenly understood, stunned: “No wonder you care so much about Bao Ge’er…”

He quickly added, “Don’t worry, I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

Qi Beinan nodded in satisfaction, then asked, “The morning light is perfect. Usually this is your reading time. Did you come here today for something?”

At this, Zhao Guangzong sighed.

“These days, Father’s been running everywhere, but no private academy in the city will accept me.”

“After hearing about the situation, Old Man Chen really did get reprimanded by the academic director, just as you said. Most of the students at his school left too. Not even two days later, that old Juren hosted a banquet at home and invited many city teachers and scholars for wine.”

Qi Beinan instantly saw through it: “He used the banquet to send a message—no one in the city is to accept you. Otherwise, it means opposing him.”

Zhao Guangzong sighed again. “Exactly. Even if the city’s scholars don’t care for Old Man Chen, they’ll still show deference to a Juren’s face when he makes a public statement.”

Qi Beinan understood well how the gentry class closed ranks. For them, shutting the door on a student without strong connections was no difficult task.

“What’s the Village Head planning to do?”

Zhao Guangzong said, “My father knows a few people in the county office. That’s how he even found out about that banquet. But for now, there’s no reliable way to get me into another private school. No one wants to offend a Juren just for someone like me, who may not even be all that bright.”

“At the moment, we don’t know what else to do.”

He added, “My father said, if we really can’t find a place here, we might have to look in the neighboring counties.”

Going elsewhere to study was no easy matter—Qi Beinan had endured more than his fair share of hardship in those years.

He said, “There is still one path.”

Zhao Guangzong’s eyes lit up. “What is it?”

“If you can pass next year’s child scholar (tongsheng) exam, you’ll be admitted directly into the county school—no need to worry about finding a private tutor.”

No matter how arrogant the gentry, they didn’t dare tamper with the imperial examination path. Just a few years ago, the emperor had executed a third-rank minister and exiled his entire family for interfering in that system.

The emperor kept close watch over the exams. Compared to everything else, that path remained clean.

Zhao Guangzong suddenly chuckled and bumped Qi Beinan with his shoulder:

“Are you teasing me? If I could pass the child scholar exam without a teacher, wouldn’t that make me some kind of prodigy?”

“If I were younger, maybe I could still dream of that. But I’ve studied a few years already—I know where I stand.”

Qi Beinan patted his shoulder. “I’ve seen your writing. It’s not nearly as bad as that Old Chen said. You work hard and study diligently—you just never had a good teacher. Now that you’re free of him, you need to build your confidence and stop living in his shadow.”

Zhao Guangzong lowered his head slightly, letting out a bitter laugh. Truthfully, he really didn’t have much confidence in himself.

Qi Beinan stood up and called Zhao Guangzong to follow him into the house.

He pulled out a handwritten notebook, about the thickness of a thumb, and handed it to Zhao Guangzong.

“Before you find another teacher, put in some effort. If things turn out as I said, then it’ll be a proper moment of pride for you. If not, well, isn’t the Village Head still here to support you? So just focus on studying properly.”

Zhao Guangzong opened the notebook and skimmed quickly at first, intending just to glance over it—but the more he read, the more he couldn’t stop flipping pages.

Standing right there, he flipped through five or six pages in a row.

He was ecstatic. “This—this is Scholar Qi’s study notes, isn’t it?”

The contents included material from the Four Books and Five Classics, with important lines marked and difficult parts clearly explained.

His eyes lit up as he pointed to a passage: “Zhou and Tang dynasties prioritized the exterior over the interior, while Qin and Wei emphasized the interior over the exterior—both have their strengths. And here, the arguments are listed one by one.”

“Too much focus on outward strength weakens unity; too much inward focus makes it hard to fend off enemies. Ideally, internal and external harmony ensures long-term stability…”

“This is no different from hearing it straight from a teacher!”

Qi Beinan hadn’t intended to show off his scholarship and was just about to say the notes were from his father, but this kid wasn’t dumb.

As Zhao Guangzong turned the pages in excitement, sweat from his fingertips smudged the ink slightly. “Wait—this isn’t some old manuscript!”

Realizing something, he looked up at Qi Beinan in shock. “You wrote this!”

Qi Beinan opened his mouth and replied a bit sheepishly, “My father’s original notes are a keepsake to me. I wanted to hold onto them, so I copied them down myself.”

Zhao Guangzong hadn’t even considered that the content could’ve been written by Qi Beinan himself. What shocked him most was the handwriting.

Qi Beinan had given him another notebook earlier, but he hadn’t had the time to look at it properly due to recent troubles.

Back when his father handed it to him, he had glanced through it and thought the handwriting was beautiful—he held deep respect for whoever wrote it.

He had assumed it was penned by Scholar Qi and thought he must’ve been a truly refined and talented gentleman.

Now, seeing the same elegant script again and realizing it was written by Qi Beinan, he was shaken.

“I really was blind. If your handwriting weren’t so good, how could you have sold spring couplets in the city? I never even thought to connect it all. One troubling thing after another lately—I’ve had no peace of mind. But now I realize, all this talent was right beside me.”

Qi Beinan smiled. “My father was a xiucai. I started studying early and had a few extra years of practice, that’s all. If you find it useful, I can also share some tips about handwriting.”

He closed the notebook and added, “Calligraphy is important, but this notebook itself isn’t bad. If you trust me, read it thoroughly—it might help you when you take the exam.”

Qi Beinan had anticipated that the Chen family wouldn’t give up easily and would probably interfere with Zhao Guangzong’s education.

In the days he stayed home, instead of going out, he had used his time teaching Xiao Yuanbao to read and writing this study guide—different from the one his father left behind.

The Zhao family had been kind to him, especially by helping connect Xiao Bao with Jiang Fulang. Qi Beinan remembered that favor well.

Now that the Zhao family was struggling, lending Zhao Guangzong a hand wasn’t a burden at all.

If Zhao Guangzong was someone willing to study seriously and absorbed the notebook fully, it could greatly benefit him in the exams.

But if he were careless and only skimmed a few pages, he wouldn’t grasp the core ideas anyway.

Naturally, Qi Beinan wouldn’t spell all this out—there were no shortcuts in studying. If he tried to hand it all over, it would only end up harming him.

He gave the nudge, but whether Zhao Guangzong would truly apply himself was up to him.

“How could I not trust you!”

Zhao Guangzong, feeling completely renewed, swept away the gloom that had haunted him earlier. If he once admired Qi Beinan four parts, now it had grown to six.

“If I don’t study it thoroughly, how could I be worthy of all the effort you’ve put into writing this for me? With your notebook, even without a teacher, I feel a lot more at ease!”

Qi Beinan said, “Go on and study. My father left more notebooks—I’ll copy them out slowly and pass them to you when I’m done.”

Zhao Guangzong was moved, his heart warm, his eyes slightly red. “With how well you treat me, I truly don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

“If you want to repay me, go take the exam first and see how it works—help me get a sense of it too.”

“Alright! I definitely will!”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

“You’re too polite, Xiao Qi. We only called you over for a casual meal, yet you still brought such a big mountain pheasant—this mustn’t happen again.”

Chickens that ran wild in the mountains weren’t particularly fat, but they were lively and spirited, with firm, flavorful meat.

Madam Zhang accepted the pheasant from Qi Beinan, half-scolding, “Mountain pheasants are hard to come by, and you still went out of your way to bring one.”

“I was going to shamelessly come empty-handed,” Qi Beinan replied, “but my Uncle Xiao had just come down from the mountain. When he heard I was coming to dine at the Village Head’s home, he said the family had always looked after us and we had no other way to express thanks. So he told me to bring a pheasant.”

“What are you saying—coming empty-handed would’ve been just right.”

Though Village Head Zhao maintained a straight face, inwardly he was delighted by those words.

“So Xiao Hu is back from the mountain? Why didn’t you bring him along for a simple meal? I just tapped open a small jug of wine.”

With that, he called his hired hand to go invite Xiao Hu over.

Qi Beinan quickly stopped him: “It’s raining outside. Uncle Xiao only just returned and has things to take care of. It wouldn’t be convenient for him to bring Xiao Bao out again.”

When the Zhao family first extended the dinner invitation, Xiao Hu hadn’t been home yet, though they’d said to bring the whole family.

Qi Beinan had asked Xiao Hu if he wanted to come, but he’d said he needed to go to the estate to see if the new steward there still wanted mountain goods.

Village Head Zhao tried again to insist, but Qi Beinan gently declined, and seeing that, he had no choice but to give up, saying he’d definitely invite Xiao Hu next time.

“Come, come in for some tea. Why are you still standing under the eaves? The wind’s strong and it’s cold.”

Zhao Guangzong beamed when he saw Qi Beinan. “Dinner’s still a bit away.”

Village Head Zhao chuckled, “Yes, yes, you two boys get along best. Go on—sit and chat over tea.”

Qi Beinan smiled. “Alright.”

“This is new tea from the tea gardens on the south side of the village. The boss there had his people send some over a couple days ago. Try it and see what you think.”

Zhao Guangzong eagerly poured him a cup. “If you like it, take a whole jin home! That boss is so generous, he always sends a ton over. We’ve got enough to last the whole year.”

Qi Beinan saw the tea liquor was clear, the mao jian leaves fresh. He took a sip from the cup. “Didn’t think the new tea would be ready this early.”

Zhao Guangzong said, “Exactly—this year, the tea sprouted early.”

The tea had a fresh, mellow aftertaste—far better than the rough tea he usually brewed at home.

Qi Beinan had tasted plenty of teas before, but he wasn’t picky. He could enjoy both the fine and the coarse.

He noticed the Zhao family used a matching set of black-glazed cups. Though the cups were of a simpler, more rustic style—clearly from a folk kiln—for a farming household, having a full set like that meant they really appreciated their tea.

He praised the tea, drank two cups, and soon smelled the aroma of stir-fried dishes wafting from the kitchen—it was nearly dinner time, and the smell was especially tempting.

Zhao Guangzong noticed Qi Beinan glance toward the kitchen and leaned in with a grin. “Not to brag, but you’re in for a real treat tonight.”

Qi Beinan looked over. “Every time I eat at your house, it’s a treat.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Zhao Guangzong raised his brows. “My father had my little uncle pecially come cook today just because you were coming. He’s a trained cook, you know—when folks hold banquets in the ten surrounding villages, he’s the one they ask to take the lead in the kitchen.”

When Qi Beinan entered the courtyard earlier, he had noticed a stranger in the kitchen but hadn’t asked about it. Now that he heard, he asked, “What’s your little uncle’s surname?”

“Surname Jiang. Everyone in the village calls him Cook Jiang.”

Zhao Guangzong added, “What is it?”

Qi Beinan’s brow twitched—what a coincidence. It turned out that this Jiang Fulang was actually a relative of the Zhao family.

Though he’d been inquiring about local cooks these past few days, he’d yet to meet any of them in person.

He gave Zhao Guangzong a playful pat on the hand. “Mind if I go have a look at your little uncle’s skills?”

Zhao Guangzong laughed. “Why would I mind?”

So the two of them slipped into the kitchen.

Usually it was Madam Zhang who ran the stove and pots in the Zhao household, but today she’d stepped aside and was only tending the fire.

They saw Master Jiang—long-faced with high brow bones and a rather stern countenance.

Despite being a professional cook, he was surprisingly lean and tall.

At that moment, he was stir-frying. The wok was blazing hot; he tossed in half a ladle of rendered lard, letting it melt.

He hovered his hand above the oil to test the heat, then swiftly tossed in a handful of indistinguishable spices. Instantly, the kitchen filled with a mouthwatering aroma.

Thin slices of pork tripe followed, going limp before puffing up in the heat. Master Jiang’s spatula moved with practiced ease, as if dancing in his hand.

“Hungry yet? Just two more dishes and it’s all ready,” said Madam Zhang when she saw the two boys frozen in the doorway.

“Smelled the fragrance and couldn’t resist coming in. Had to see which master had such skills,” Qi Beinan said. “I wasn’t hungry before, but now even my cravings have crawled out.”

Madam Zhang laughed and introduced Jiang Fulang to him.

In just a few words, Master Jiang had already plated the dish. He glanced at Qi Beinan, didn’t say much—just gave the faintest of nods, acknowledging his presence.

Qi Beinan thought, This Master Jiang really is just as Madam Qiao described—someone who’s not particularly warm or talkative.

But everyone had their own nature. Some were sociable, others reserved.

If everyone were the same, where would the charm be in getting to know people?

Thick-skinned as ever, Qi Beinan stayed right there in the kitchen, listening to the rhythmic da-da-da of chopping and watching as Jiang Fulang stir-fried, simmered soup, and plated dishes.

Jiang Fulang cooked neither hurriedly nor lazily, but with impressive efficiency—everything he did was clean and orderly. He handled the whole kitchen alone, yet never looked flustered or scattered.

From Qi Beinan’s perspective, this sort of calm, methodical presence could only come from someone with genuine confidence and mastery.

And one thing stood out above all—Jiang Fulang had a clear love for cleanliness. After preparing several dishes, the stove area still showed no signs of splashed soup or scattered bowls. As he cooked, he tidied up, wiping down the counter with a cloth as he went.

By evening, the table was piled with dishes.

There was stewed dried mushroom with black-bone chicken, stir-fried pork tripe with garlic sprouts, steamed minced pork with egg custard, tofu and water-shield soup, and a whole fish glazed in a golden sauce.

The spread was even richer than what many families might serve for New Year.

Qi Beinan sat beside Zhao Guangzong, with Village Head Zhao on the other side.

“From the moment I first met you, I liked you,” said Village Head Zhao, raising a cup. “I didn’t expect fate had already arranged it. If Guangzong hadn’t met you, who knows how much longer he’d have had to suffer under that old bastard.”

He clasped Qi Beinan’s arm. “We’ve been tied up with all sorts of troubles these past days and haven’t properly thanked you. I invited my cousin over today to make a few dishes—just so we could get to know each other better over dinner.”

Qi Beinan replied, “I hardly deserve such praise. When I first came to the village, I didn’t even know the roads, let alone the people. If the Village Head hadn’t been so kind, I’d have frozen half to death outside the gate.”

“And as for Guangzong—I didn’t help all that much. Yet the Village Head still treats me so well, even bringing in Master Jiang to prepare tonight’s meal.”

Madam Zhang added, handing him a dish, “You really know how to talk, child—and so polite.”

“From now on, treat this as your home. Guangzong is your clumsy older brother now.”

Qi Beinan smiled. “If you and Madam Zhang don’t mind me, I’ll be thick-skinned and come by often.”

Zhao Guangzong beamed when he heard that, and immediately began playing the role of server, piling dishes into Qi Beinan’s bowl while telling him which ones were especially tasty—afraid he might be too shy to reach for them himself.

Jiang Fulang, meanwhile, hadn’t spoken a word since sitting down. He quietly observed the others at the table, noticing how warmly his cousin’s whole family treated this young man.

Qi Beinan tried every dish on the table. They didn’t just smell good—each bite was full of flavor.

These were hearty, street-style dishes, heavy on oil and seasoning—the kind of food that really filled your belly.

He had once climbed from commoner to court official, and the dishes at those high places changed along the way—refined, elaborate, and costly. But in truth, what he loved most was still humble home cooking.

Banquets at elite gatherings were all about display and sophistication—more a feast for the ego than the palate. Taste often took a back seat.

Having now met the cook and tasted his food, Qi Beinan—who had been making inquiries about kitchen masters through Madam Qiao—felt this chance encounter must be fate. He became all the more certain of what he wanted to do.

The only issue was that Jiang Fulang hadn’t spoken a word since dinner started. He ate quietly, bowl in hand. The more warmly the Zhao family engaged with Qi Beinan, the more distant Jiang seemed by contrast.

Qi Beinan had hoped to strike up a conversation with him during dinner, but no opportunity had arisen. Finally, he took the initiative.

“This pork tripe with garlic sprouts is really well done—crisp without being tough. I’ve heard it’s one of the hardest dishes to get right in terms of heat control. Master Jiang, your skills are excellent.”

At last, Jiang Fulang looked at him and said simply, “Just a small dish. Nothing special.”

Village Head Zhao, drinking his wine, saw them talking and exchanged a glance with Madam Zhang—who took the hint.

“Beinan,” she said, “I heard you’re looking for a cooking master for Bao Ge’er. Is that true?”

Qi Beinan’s brow lifted slightly. “Madam Zhang, your sources are impressive. Xiao Bao may be young, but I believe a craft is the foundation of one’s livelihood. I want him to have a future, so I’ve been considering this.”

Madam Zhang and Village Head Zhao shared a knowing smile.

“Don’t blame me for poking into other people’s business,” Madam Zhang said. “I overheard Madam Sun in the fields the other day asking around about cooking teachers, so I asked her a bit.”

“And? Have you found anyone?”

Qi Beinan understood now and answered, “I do have the idea, but I’m still unfamiliar with the village. Uncle Xiao is busy with mountain work, and I haven’t had much direction yet.”

Village Head Zhao patted him on the back. “Why didn’t you come to me with this? Even if I didn’t already have someone in my own family, I know the village like the back of my hand.”

“Luckily I heard about it from others, but that’s not reliable. So I figured I’d ask you myself.”

Qi Beinan’s eyes lit up. “To think you manage the whole village’s affairs and still remember something so small for me.”

Village Head Zhao puffed up. “Now don’t be saying things like that.”

He looked toward Jiang Fulang and said, “I already brought this up to my cousin. If you think his cooking is good enough, why not let Bao Ge’er learn under him?”

“What—truly?”

Qi Beinan’s senses sharpened all at once.

“Of course truly. Would I joke about something this serious?”

Qi Beinan was inwardly five parts surprised and five parts delighted, though on his face he showed full joy.

He quickly stood and bowed to the Village Head and Madam Zhang to express his thanks, then turned and respectfully saluted Jiang Fulang, who hadn’t spoken this whole time.

“I hope it won’t trouble Master Jiang too much.”

He was very courteous while quietly observing Jiang Fulang’s expression.

This really was a pleasant surprise, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit cautious. After all, if the person involved hadn’t said anything, no matter how smooth and confident the others sounded, there was always a chance they were exaggerating.

Yet Jiang Fulang’s demeanor remained as calm and indifferent as before—clearly, this had been discussed ahead of time.

He said, “Since my cousin spoke to you on this matter, I have no reason not to agree. Bring the child over sometime, and I’ll take a look first.”

“I’ll say the harsh words up front: though I’ve agreed to let him come, I’m not promising to accept him right away. Let him stay with me for three to five months. If he truly has the temperament for it, I’ll teach him everything I know. But if he lacks the patience, then take him back. Better to let him pursue something else early on than waste time with me and amount to nothing.”

Jiang Fulang’s words were strict, and Qi Beinan listened seriously.

In fact, hearing such a statement put him more at ease. If Jiang had agreed too warmly and eagerly, it would’ve raised his suspicions instead.

He immediately replied, “Master Jiang’s words speak directly to my heart. Rushing to commit to a lifelong craft would indeed be reckless. It’s only right to observe first and let you decide.”

Jiang Fulang said no more.

He’d seen too many parents eager to send their children to learn a trade, flattering endlessly at first—only for those children to quit halfway, disappointing everyone and wasting the master’s time.

Even in his own cousin’s household, this had happened.

Two of their sons had previously studied under him. Neither took it seriously—one got married early, the other burned his hand with soup and cried to quit.

He had wasted time and effort teaching them for nothing.

Since then, Jiang Fulang had stopped taking disciples. He always made his stance clear.

But this time, when his cousin asked again, it wasn’t easy to refuse. He had no husband, no children, and had received much kindness from this family. He owed them a favor.

Village Head Zhao, seeing that Jiang Fulang hadn’t rejected the request, beamed and said, “Good—then it’s settled!”

The dinner table grew even warmer with joy and closeness.

By the time Qi Beinan left, the sky had gone dark. Zhao Guangzong walked him halfway home before heading back.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped. Otherwise, walking home by torchlight while carrying an oil-paper umbrella, plus the jin of new tea Zhao Guangzong gave him and the bowl of meat Madam Zhang insisted on sending, would’ve made it all rather troublesome.

Back at the Xiao house, father and son were in the main room. Xiao Hu had just taken off Xiao Yuanbao’s shoes and socks and was about to carry him over to wash his feet.

But Xiao Yuanbao caught sight of the flickering torchlight outside the window and slipped off his father’s lap, running barefoot to the eaves.

“Brother’s home!”

Qi Beinan extinguished the torch in the water channel by the house and hung the oil-paper umbrella under the eaves. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“Mhm! Xiao Bao had meat cakes with father—we were just about to wash up.”

He happily grabbed Qi Beinan’s hand. “We also went to the estate!”

Qi Beinan looked down at his bare white feet, pinched his cheek, then picked him up and brushed the dirt off his soles.

He was just about to ask how the new steward at the estate was when the pheasants in the chicken coop clucked noisily.

“They didn’t take the mountain goods at the estate?”

Xiao Hu looked over at Qi Beinan and replied, “No, they didn’t.”

“How come?”

Xiao Hu shook his head. It was strange—he could accept that they no longer wanted mountain goods, but it seemed they only refused his.

That morning, he went to ask. The new steward, upon hearing his surname was Xiao, said nothing more—just shook his head and told him not to bother coming again.

Yet as he was leaving, he saw a hunter from the neighboring village carrying four live rabbits into the estate.

He asked casually and found out the goods were for that same Steward Zhu.

Xiao Hu was puzzled—there was no reason why Zhu would accept goods from a neighboring hunter but not from someone local.

Previously, hunters from nearby villages all sent their game to the estate. In the ten surrounding areas, there weren’t many who worked the trade. This made it feel personal—like he had offended the new steward somehow.

“Have you met him before?” Qi Beinan asked.

Xiao Hu shook his head. “I looked at the man—never seen him before.”

Qi Beinan furrowed his brows. “Strange. Maybe the estate just doesn’t want as much game anymore.”

Xiao Hu nodded. “It’s nothing. At worst, I’ll just walk a bit farther into town.”

That said, selling to the estate was easier than hawking in the city. The estate paid a decent price, and he could deliver it straight down the mountain—no need to stand in the market letting customers pick through the goods.

Besides, the longer it took, the more freshness and value the goods lost.

Without regular buyers in the city, it wasn’t easy to make good sales.

But Xiao Hu wasn’t one to beg or grovel. He asked once, and when no reason was given, he didn’t press the issue.

Qi Beinan offered comfort, “It’s normal—changing people is just a small matter.”

Then he turned to the father and son and shared the good news that there was now a clear path for Xiao Bao to become an apprentice.

Xiao Hu was overjoyed. “Truly?!”

“Master Jiang agreed in person. But really, we have the Village Head to thank for making the introduction—without that, it’s unlikely anyone else could’ve persuaded him.”

Qi Beinan said, “I’ll take Xiao Bao to see Master Jiang tomorrow.”

Xiao Hu happily replied, “That’s great! I didn’t think things would go this smoothly.”

He patted Xiao Yuanbao’s head. “When you meet Master Jiang, you must be on your best behavior. Whether or not you get to become his student depends on you.”

Xiao Yuanbao blinked, eyes sparkling as he looked at Qi Beinan. “So I have a master now?”

“Yes, but you’ll have to study for a while first.”

Qi Beinan explained gently, “Just like Brother told you before, only if you truly enjoy cooking—and keep loving it for a long time—will I find a teacher for you. Now that we’ve found one, the teacher also needs some time to see if you can truly stick with it. Only then can he really become your master.”

Xiao Yuanbao pressed his lips together, his eyes full of seriousness as he gave a firm nod. “Xiao Bao understands.”

Looking at the little guy’s expression, Qi Beinan couldn’t help but think it was a bit like his own face when he once stood before the emperor at the final imperial exam. Seeing such a look on a child so small—it was both touching and endearing.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, Master Jiang is quite easy to talk to.”

That night, Xiao Yuanbao curled up in his blanket, lying on his pillow and unable to fall asleep.

Thinking about meeting his master early the next morning, his heart fluttered like a little bird—both excited and unsure, maybe even a little scared.

Though his temperament had grown more lively over the past months with Qi Beinan, at his core, he was still timid.

That kind of deeply rooted shyness wasn’t something that could disappear in just a few days.

He was about to meet someone new, and his thoughts kept circling—what would the new master be like? Would he be chubby, or thin?

Xiao Yuanbao fretted. He worried that the master wouldn’t like him, or that he’d mess something up and make the teacher annoyed.

All kinds of thoughts kept spinning through his mind, and even in the warm bed, he couldn’t fall asleep.

He eventually felt overheated under the quilt and stuck his feet out into the cool night air. The chill helped calm his nerves a bit.

That night was filled with dreams.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Spring rain fell steadily for two full days. The air was cold and the roads outside were slick, so Qi Beinan barely left the house.

That day, he finally found the time to finish copying a Thousand Character Classic by hand.

He called Xiao Yuanbao over, preparing to start teaching him to read.

Kids at that age picked things up quickly. Learning just three to five characters a day meant that within two years, he’d be able to understand public notices, letters, and even read books with ease.

Even though in small towns it wasn’t uncommon for people to be illiterate—men, women, young, and old alike often couldn’t read—life still went on as usual.

But Qi Beinan felt that literacy, though it required effort, was a skill. Better to have it than not.

And precisely because illiteracy was so common in small places, it was all the more valuable. In places like the prefectural seat, most people could read. In the capital or in prosperous regions like Jiangnan, even many rural households were literate.

Besides, not to brag, but in all of Ling County, there probably wasn’t a better-educated teacher than him.

Other people might spend silver and still fail to find a good tutor, but Xiao Yuanbao had one right at home—what a waste it would be not to make use of that.

Xiao Yuanbao sat on a small stool beside Qi Beinan, flipping through a book as thick as his thumb. He blinked and asked uncertainly, “I have to learn all of this?”

Qi Beinan replied, “Each page has just forty characters. It’s not that much. If you study a bit every day, you’ll finish it in no time.”

Xiao Yuanbao glanced toward the edge of the table. “Brother is amazing. You can read and write so many characters~”

Qi Beinan could tell from his expression that he was already backing out. He remembered how when he first offered to teach him to read, Yuanbao had been just as unenthusiastic.

When it came to grinding ink and laying out paper, he was faster than anyone. But the moment he had to pick up a brush, he’d squirm all over. He even once said he’d rather cook a whole table of dishes than write three characters.

Back then, Qi Beinan had been busy with his own affairs, and Yuanbao’s health wasn’t good. Qi Beinan doted on him, so he didn’t want to force him into anything. A few soft-spoken excuses were enough to let him off the hook.

But now, looking at him again, he felt literacy truly mattered. Learning more at a young age could only be a good thing.

He coaxed, “Didn’t Xiao Bao tell Brother he wanted to become a great cook? Does that still count?”

Yuanbao’s eyes immediately snapped back. “It counts! Xiao Bao remembers it every day!”

Qi Beinan nodded. “I know you don’t enjoy reading. But when you start learning to cook, besides your teacher’s instruction, you’ll also need to read recipes. If you don’t know how to read, how will you learn?”

“We’re not learning characters just for the sake of it—we’re learning so Xiao Bao can become a cook.”

Xiao Yuanbao pursed his lips, thinking carefully about the logic.

“Learning to read is for cooking. Xiao Bao loves cooking. So… Xiao Bao loves learning to read.”

Qi Beinan nodded firmly. “Exactly! That’s it!”

Xiao Yuanbao still felt something about it was a little strange, but his brother made too much sense.

Since it was for cooking, he obediently stayed seated and began his lesson.

That afternoon, the rain eased a little.

Qi Beinan let Xiao Yuanbao take a nap. The weather wasn’t hot, and though the little one usually didn’t care for napping, today he felt tired after studying.

He climbed into bed, and as the curtain dropped and rain pattered softly against the eaves, he drifted off to sleep in no time.

Qi Beinan had just fed the chickens and ducks in the coop with chopped vegetable scraps when he spotted a gray figure walking up the muddy path outside the courtyard.

Xiao Hu had come down the mountain!

Qi Beinan was delighted and quickly went over to help him take off his pack.

It was surprisingly heavy.

“Xiao Bao’s inside—he just fell asleep.”

Xiao Hu was soaked through, his hair dripping in thick, clumped strands.

It had rained even harder up in the mountains.

Qi Beinan saw how waterlogged he was and guessed he must be uncomfortable. He told him, “Just finished washing Xiao Bao’s feet. There’s still hot water in the pot.”

Xiao Hu gave a nod and went inside to grab a change of clothes.

Qi Beinan used the chance to heat more water and stoked the fire, then brought out the remaining half roast chicken and lamb offal, warming them in the pot.

Thanks to the continuous cool rain over the past two days, the food still smelled delicious—no signs of spoilage.

Xiao Hu carried the water inside and washed up thoroughly.

After toweling off his hair, he stepped into the room to check on Xiao Yuanbao.

The child was curled under the blankets, fast asleep, cheeks flushed red.

No one knew what he was dreaming about, but his lips smacked together softly twice.

Xiao Hu’s heart softened. He didn’t make a sound, just quietly stepped back out.

When he reached the main room, the smell of meat hit him—it made his stomach twist with hunger.

Qi Beinan brought out two steaming hot dishes of meat for him.

Winter had passed, and though spring game in the mountains wasn’t as plentiful as in autumn, the woods were still lively.

He’d come across a few good catches recently and had been busy setting traps—leaving before dawn and returning after dark.

Days spent burning energy like that, even someone strong as him would collapse into bed the moment he returned.

Meals were kept simple—being able to grab even a few bites on time was already a feat.

Seeing real meat now, he immediately went to fetch his wine.

“You bought these in town?”

Qi Beinan replied, “No, they were a gift from Zhao Guangzong—Village Head Zhao’s son. I’ve been seeing him often lately.”

He didn’t go into detail with Xiao Hu about Zhao Guangzong’s situation at the private school—only said that since they were both scholars, they got along well and Zhao had invited him over for dinner that evening.

Xiao Hu was surprised. “He went to study in the city from a young age and rarely interacted with the local kids. Didn’t expect he’d be this friendly with you.”

He hadn’t actually seen much of Zhao Guangzong himself, but every time he did, the boy was always dressed immaculately and said very little.

Villagers often said Zhao Guangzong was proud and aloof, and over time, Xiao Hu had come to believe the same.

Yet in just a few short days, that boy had already come bearing fine meat and dishes.

Xiao Hu felt Qi Beinan really had a knack for dealing with people.

“You’re someone who knows boundaries—you’re clear on how to handle relationships. And besides, the Village Head’s family isn’t bad. It’s a good thing if you’re getting closer to them.”

Qi Beinan was relieved to see that Xiao Hu trusted him and didn’t press him for details. He then brought up the matter of finding a cooking teacher for Xiao Yuanbao.

When Xiao Hu heard this, he took on a serious look. “As long as it’s something he truly likes, it doesn’t matter how much silver we spend for him to learn. I’ll go ask around the village kitchen folks myself.”

Qi Beinan said, “With Uncle Xiao’s support, I’ll feel at ease putting real effort into this. You’ve already got a hard life in the mountains—leave the small errands to me.”

Xiao Hu thought for a moment. Qi Beinan was thorough and reliable—he agreed. “That works. You check first, and if there’s trouble, let me know.”

—

When Xiao Yuanbao woke up, he rubbed his sleepy eyes and stumbled out—only to see that Xiao Hu had returned. He lit up with joy.

He didn’t say a word, just rushed forward and grabbed Xiao Hu’s hand.

Xiao Hu was under the eaves, sorting through the mountain goods he’d brought back. Suddenly, something soft clung to his palm.

He looked down and saw Xiao Yuanbao beaming up at him like a little tail. For a moment, his heart melted.

In the past, when he returned from the mountains, the child would avoid him timidly for a couple of days before daring to come close.

But now—he came straight over on his own.

Xiao Hu was both surprised and delighted. He bent down and scooped Xiao Yuanbao up into his arms.

Qi Beinan watched the child clinging happily to Xiao Hu’s shoulder, rubbing his cheek against him and acting all spoiled. He laughed and asked, “Since you love father so much, are you going to go with Brother to Brother Zhao’s for dinner later, or stay home with father?”

Xiao Yuanbao blinked at the question.

He wrapped his arms tighter around Xiao Hu’s neck.

Though he really wanted to go eat at Brother Zhao’s house with gege, if he left, father would be all alone at home.

After thinking it over carefully, he said, “Father just got back from the mountain after many days. Xiao Bao wants to spend more time with father.”

Qi Beinan reached out and pinched his cheek.

This little one loved his father—he approved greatly.

Xiao Hu, hearing the boy’s words, was visibly pleased.

“You’re going to the Village Head’s house—take a mountain pheasant with you,” Xiao Hu said to Qi Beinan. “Even if they’re the ones inviting you, it’s better to bring something than to show up empty-handed.”

Although Xiao Hu had only been up the mountain for a short time this trip, he’d brought back a fair haul.

Two speckled mountain pheasants, three quails, a pair of waterfowl, and one black rabbit…

Living off the mountain meant relying a lot on luck—some days you might land excellent prey, while other days you could go out for several days and not catch a thing.

He’d had to reset all his traps this year, and the new ones hadn’t yet paid off. Still, getting this much just through hunting over a few days was already a fine yield.

Qi Beinan agreed. The Zhao family lived comfortably—they might not think much of ordinary goods, but they’d surely appreciate fresh mountain fare.

Later that day, Qi Beinan tied up one of the mountain pheasants and, oil-paper umbrella in hand, made his way to the Zhao house.

To his surprise, there was a guest at the Zhao residence—none other than Master Jiang from Cat Slope, one of the cooks he had been asking about lately.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Qi Beinan roughly calculated when Xiao Hu would return and figured he might set aside some of the meat dishes to share with him.

But Xiao Hu wouldn’t be back for another two or three days, and he wasn’t sure if the food would keep that long until he came down from the mountain.

Zhao Guangzong had brought over so much meat all at once, but there were only two people at home—him and Xiao Yuanbao. They couldn’t possibly eat that much in one sitting.

And lamb was expensive—even offal cost twenty or thirty copper coins per jin. Even families who had enough to eat wouldn’t easily splurge on it. A plate of it might only show up during New Year’s, and even then it’d be sliced paper-thin.

Zhao Guangzong had clearly gone all out.

With such good meat, and perfect to go with wine, it would be wrong not to save some for Xiao Hu.

It was the second month, and if the meat was sealed and stored in the well or large jars, it could keep for a while. But still, it wasn’t a sure thing.

So Qi Beinan figured he and Xiao Yuanbao would eat a portion now and leave the rest for Xiao Hu. That way, if it did spoil, at least not all of it would go to waste.

He chopped up half the roast chicken and took out around half a jin of lamb offal, wrapped it tightly in oiled paper, packed it in a jar, and hung it down into the well.

The rest he shared with Xiao Yuanbao. That way, they didn’t need to cook any extra dishes that night.

Qi Beinan picked out a piece of lamb offal that wasn’t soaked in sauce and fed it into Xiao Yuanbao’s mouth.

“We’ll cook some porridge tonight and eat it with the roast chicken. And we’ll toss in the shepherd’s purse you and Fang Ge’er dug up.”

Xiao Yuanbao had never tasted lamb offal before and immediately noticed the difference from the chicken and duck offal they’d bought previously.

Maybe it was because he’d just eaten the sugar cakes Zhao Guangzong brought him—now, tasting the savory braised meat made it seem especially fragrant.

He licked his salty lips, clearly wanting more, but didn’t fuss. Instead, he grinned and said, “Okay! When it’s time to cook, I’ll wash the shepherd’s purse!”

Qi Beinan smiled and gave his head a gentle pat.

That afternoon, the weather wasn’t too good, and by that hour the wind had already picked up.

It looked like it was going to rain.

This time of early spring, once the rain started, it could get very cold.

But right before the rain was the best time to plant vegetables. Qi Beinan put on a straw hat and helped Xiao Yuanbao into a smaller one.

They placed the seedlings they bought from town into a bucket, then carried it together toward the fields, trying to beat the rain.

There were quite a few people out in the fields loosening soil and planting—not everyone rushed home before the rain. It was rather lively.

Qi Beinan jumped into the field with his hoe. “You stay up on the path for a bit. There are peach blossoms over there—they look like they’re about to bloom.”

But Xiao Yuanbao stretched out his arms and asked to be carried down. “I want to help Brother plant eggplants.”

Qi Beinan let out a helpless smile. “Alright.”

He dug planting holes with the hoe, and Xiao Yuanbao would take a seedling wrapped in a big lotus leaf and place one into each hole.

“Look at these two kids, working so hard!”

A woman walked by the path, a bright silk flower in her hair and clothes neat and clean.

Hands on her waist, she was catching her breath.

“Madam Qiao, where are you off to in such a rush? You look flushed.”

A man in the field spat into his hand and swung his hoe with renewed strength.

Madam Qiao, seeing someone greet her, came closer, pulled a cloth from her waist, and wiped her face and neck.

“I saw the sky turning. I’m hurrying back to the village to avoid the rain—walking this fast got me sweating.”

“A little spring drizzle and you’re worried? Who are you matchmaking for this time?”

Qi Beinan raised a brow—so she was the village matchmaker.

Judging by her appearance, she seemed more like a freelance one; the official matchmakers usually carried themselves with more pomp.

“I just ran over to the neighboring village. But it wasn’t a wasted trip—the young lady’s family was quite taken with the man I’m helping.”

The man in the field raised his brows. “That’s great news. Must be your silver tongue making it happen. Better have the groom’s family give you a thick red envelope!”

Madam Qiao beamed, fanning herself with the cloth.

“They’re all ordinary folk—how big of a red envelope can they give? Everyone’s tightening their belts just to get by. I can’t just demand a bunch of money.”

“That’s why folks say you’re kindhearted, Madam Qiao. That’s why the whole village trusts you for matchmaking.”

Flattered, Madam Qiao was all smiles and chatted even more happily.

“Let me tell you—if I can land this one, there might be some nice wedding money involved.”

The man leaned in, nosey. “Whose match is this?”

“There’s a new steward in the village as of the end of the year. Surname Zhu. Came here alone—his wife and kids didn’t come with him. Living all by himself in a strange place, it’s got to be lonely.”

She lowered her voice. “He’s hoping to find a girl nearby to keep him company. Just someone to help with cooking and such, no hard labor involved.”

“Steward Zhu has plenty of silver—his employer pays him well each month. And he’s got private property too: paddy fields, dry land, a house—he’s got it all!”

The man’s heart stirred. He couldn’t help but ask more. “And what kind of girl is he looking for?”

Madam Qiao smiled mysteriously.

She made a vague gesture in front of her chest and said, “Curvy, gentle, and sensible. Must be a woman.”

Hearing that, the man sighed—his family’s ger clearly wouldn’t be eligible.

“Well, even if he’s well off, a steward is still just someone managing things for others. And asking a girl to go be his concubine? I doubt many would agree.”

Madam Qiao smiled knowingly. “Better to be a rich man’s concubine than a poor man’s wife. In the end, it all comes down to fate.”

The man stopped speaking.

Madam Qiao turned to Qi Beinan, who had remained silent the entire time. “Hmm? You look unfamiliar, young man—where’s your family from?”

Qi Beinan replied politely, “The Xiao family at the foot of the mountain.”

Madam Qiao paused, as if recalling something. “Oh~ you’re from the household of that hunter Xiao? The one who came from out of town to stay with his uncle and study? This is my first time seeing you.”

Her eyes lifted slightly as she stepped a bit closer and teased, “Your uncle’s all alone now—shouldn’t he be thinking of finding himself an auntie? Auntie here is quite free these days~”

Qi Beinan thought to himself that this woman had sharp ears. Xiao Hu didn’t interact much with the villagers, yet she already knew about him.

He gave an awkward smile, feigning shyness. “That kind of decision’s not for someone younger like me. Madam Qiao would probably have to ask my uncle directly.”

Seeing how easily embarrassed Qi Beinan was, Madam Qiao was even more tempted to tease.

“Auntie’s just joking with you! If your uncle really wanted me, he’d have come looking. But what about you—how old are you? You’re quite the handsome one. Anyone in town trying to match you yet?”

Xiao Yuanbao was quietly holding the vegetable seedlings to the side, listening to the conversation. He only understood part of what was said, but when he heard Madam Qiao’s words, his soft little brows furrowed in suspicion.

“Brother is ours. He’s not going to look at anyone else’s family!”

“Well now! What a possessive little one!”

Madam Qiao laughed until wrinkles creased the corners of her eyes. “How about this, little guy? Auntie will trade you a bag of honeyed candies—let your brother come to my house and be a son-in-law. How about it?”

“He’s not going to be anyone’s son-in-law. He’ll stay at Xiao Bao’s house and be my big brother!”

Xiao Yuanbao said seriously. He could tell from the tone and scent of things that Madam Qiao was trying to snatch his brother away—and she wanted to use just a single bag of honey candies? Ridiculous!

He had exchanged things like osmanthus cakes, eggplants, tofu, and all kinds of treats for this brother—how could a mere bag of sweets be a fair trade?

Madam Qiao saw how puffed up the soft-spoken child looked—his fair, harmless little face, those round sparkling eyes, and the way his pout made his eyes seem even rounder when angry.

She couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“What an adorable boy you are! Fine, fine, Auntie won’t take your brother. How about this instead—why don’t you come live with Auntie as a daughter-in-law? Auntie will cook meat for you every day!”

Xiao Yuanbao shook his head and quickly hid behind Qi Beinan, eyeing Madam Qiao warily.

“When Xiao Bao grows up, he’ll cook meat for himself. No need to go be anyone’s daughter-in-law.”

Even the men in the nearby fields planting vegetables burst out laughing at that.

Qi Beinan felt that Xiao Yuanbao had grown quite a bit braver—he used to shy away from strangers, but now he could speak to them without fear, though his cautious nature remained. That was a good sign.

“Madam Qiao even knows me, though I haven’t been here long—you really do know everything about the village.”

Madam Qiao proudly replied, “As a matchmaker, I may not have other talents, but I don’t labor much in the fields like others. I’m always going back and forth from East Village to West, constantly walking around. It’s not just our village—I know more about the goings-on in the whole region than most people.”

Qi Beinan knew she was speaking the truth. Official matchmakers didn’t just arrange marriages—they also acted as informal information brokers.

He said courteously, “I haven’t been here long, and my uncle’s not much of a talker. I haven’t met many of the villagers. If Madam Qiao ever has time and doesn’t mind, please come by for a hot bowl of soup and help me get to know who’s who in the village.”

Madam Qiao glanced at the sky. A light drizzle seemed imminent, but she had nothing urgent to do. She had never visited the Xiao household before either, and maybe she could even bring up a potential match with that hunter Xiao. So she replied:

“Auntie can’t bear to turn down good kids like you. I’ll just run back to grab a paper umbrella and be right over.”

Qi Beinan readily agreed.

After Madam Qiao left, Qi Beinan and Xiao Yuanbao quickly finished planting the vegetable seedlings.

Up in the distant hills, the wind rustled the camphor tree leaves loudly, and before they knew it, fine misty rain had begun to drift down.

The temperature dropped all at once.

Spring rains were fine and slow—not urgent, but long-lasting.

After planting the last scallion bulb, Qi Beinan washed his hands at the edge of the field, then took Xiao Yuanbao’s hand, and the two of them jogged home.

They tidied up, and by the time Madam Qiao arrived with a plain yellow oil-paper umbrella, the courtyard paving stones were already soaked through.

Qi Beinan welcomed her into the main room and poured her a bit of rice wine—lightly alcoholic, just enough to taste, not strong enough to make anyone drunk.

Madam Qiao noticed a small bowl of roast chicken on the square table, half a bowl of lamb offal, and even a pot of boiled water greens. She thought to herself—this hunter’s household was really living well.

That Qin woman truly had no blessings. She couldn’t even appreciate a good life and ended up mistreating the child.

“Please, Madam Qiao, have a seat. Apologies for the humble reception—hope you won’t mind.”

“You’re too polite. And you speak so well too—truly a scholar. So different from the rest.”

Madam Qiao sat right down without hesitation. Who wouldn’t be happy to eat meat? Her face was full of cheer.

After a few bites, she asked Qi Beinan which families he wanted to know about. She’d been in this matchmaking business for years—if a kid invited her over like this, it wasn’t for a marriage discussion, but to gather information.

She thought this child really knew how the world worked, so she got straight to the point. The lamb offal paired with wine was too fragrant to forget about business.

“I know Madam Qiao is well-versed in all the village affairs. I wanted to ask about Master Jiang from Cat Slope and Madam Li from Big Rock. What are they like as people? And how’s their skill?”

“And I ask Madam Qiao to speak frankly and truthfully, without holding anything back.”

“Those two?”

Madam Qiao chuckled when she heard the question. “You’re asking the right person. Auntie’s attended more banquets than she can count—of course I’ve dealt with those kitchen folks plenty. I do know a bit.”

She more or less understood what Qi Beinan was aiming for and didn’t press for details. Instead, she got straight to answering his question.

As for the two cooks, neither had any major flaws in terms of character, but their temperaments were vastly different.

Master Jiang from Cat Slope was a quiet, reserved man who didn’t like to socialize. He wasn’t someone easy to get along with.

He lost his fulang (ger wife) years ago and never had children. Madam Qiao had tried to matchmake for him more than once or twice, but he never responded kindly. Every time, she was left feeling embarrassed. After being rebuffed so many times, she stopped trying to talk to him altogether.

But when it came to his skills—nothing to complain about. Anyone who’s had a meal cooked by him at a banquet would sing praises.

Whether it’s steamed, boiled, stir-fried, or braised—he can do it all.

Even as she described it, Madam Qiao couldn’t help but swallow a bit of saliva.

“As for Madam Li from Big Rock—she’s the younger sister of Li Dalang from Osmanthus Mouth. Their family’s been in the food business for generations.”

Maybe because she grew up in a family that ran small food stalls, Madam Li was very talkative and approachable. She’d greet you from far off and was welcomed by many households to be the head cook when hosting events.

In terms of cooking skills, she was a bit behind Master Jiang. But for most ordinary households, flavor perfection wasn’t the priority anyway.

“But this Madam Li is also very calculating. She tends to skim off the top—taking a little something for herself while working in the kitchen. Every time she does a job, she manages to bring back a bit of meat or seasoning. Her household’s doing quite well—she’s got three sons, all tall and strong!”

Qi Beinan listened and began forming his judgment.

Madam Qiao popped a piece of meat into her mouth and said, “You planning to learn kitchen craft? Let Auntie be blunt—asking about those two, there’s not much hope. Plenty of folks have tried to send their kids to learn from them over the years, and all got turned away. They’re not the kind to take disciples easily.”

“If you really want to learn,” she continued, “let me tell you—might as well go find Old Master Wang. Though people don’t like him much—say he’s full of hot air and cooks the books when buying banquet supplies—he’s still got the skill and does take on students.”

“As long as you prepare a generous offering, he’ll accept you. He’s already taken three apprentices.”

Qi Beinan said, “Thank you for the information, Madam Qiao—but I’m not the one looking to learn.”

Madam Qiao glanced toward Xiao Yuanbao, who was quietly eating. Seeing Qi Beinan smile faintly, she understood.

She picked up a thick piece of chicken and placed it in Xiao Yuanbao’s bowl. “Well then, in that case, those first two might indeed be more suitable. The husband-wife types—they tend to be more patient and gentle with children.”

“But Auntie can only share what she knows. As for persuading them to take on a student—that’s beyond me. If I could manage that, I’d have sent my own kids to study under them a long time ago.”

Madam Qiao added, “But Bao Ge’er is such a lovable little one. If you brought over a basket of chicken eggs or duck eggs to ask politely, who knows—there just might be a chance.”

Qi Beinan poured her another cup of wine to thank her.

They chatted a while longer about the village’s trivial happenings. When it got nearly dark, she finally left, torch in hand, heading back from the Xiao household.

Outside, the rain had grown heavier. After sending her off, Qi Beinan came back inside and shut all the doors and windows tight.

Seeing Xiao Yuanbao by the stove scooping charcoal into the clay brazier, Qi Beinan quietly began to think over how they might get a teacher to accept them.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Zhao Guangzong had just returned from town, looking utterly downcast the entire way.

As he reached the doorstep of his own home, he quickly pulled himself together, smoothed his brows, and tried his best not to appear so dejected.

“Father, Mother, I…”

Before he could finish speaking, Zhao Guangzong spotted Qi Beinan sitting in the main hall.

“You’re finally back. Xiao Qi has been waiting quite a while for you.”

Qi Beinan stood and walked toward him.

Zhao Guangzong’s expression shifted at once, and all the embarrassment and frustration surged up in his chest.

He knew Qi Beinan came with good intentions, so even though he felt awful inside, he still forced himself to be polite. “I was a bit confused by today’s studies, so I came home late.”

“Scholr Qi, let’s speak in my room.”

With that, he lifted his book chest and went in first.

Village Head Zhao and Madam Zhang felt something seemed off about Zhao Guangzong, but couldn’t quite place it. They just assumed he was worn out after a long day of studying in town.

“Yes, yes, Xiao Qi, go on into the room. You two should discuss your studies properly.”

Qi Beinan gave a slight nod and followed him inside.

Zhao Guangzong sat heavily in front of his desk, looking completely lifeless.

He pressed his lips into a tight line, no longer able to maintain even a semblance of composure.

Just yesterday he’d been quietly overjoyed at the thought of perhaps making a true friend—yet today he had to be seen in such a shameful state.

He forced out a smile that looked worse than crying.

“Let you see a joke again. The teacher was right—I really am thick-headed. Even if he hit me with a ruler a hundred times, made me stand a hundred times, I’d still be a rotten block of wood.”

Once again, he started blaming himself, painfully wondering—aside from his parents and brothers—who else would ever want to be close to someone as foolish as him?

Qi Beinan put down the books he’d brought and instead pulled out a jar of external ointment he’d been carrying.

He sat beside Zhao Guangzong, took his right hand, warmed the ointment in his palms, and gently applied it to the bruised and swollen area that had turned purple.

Zhao Guangzong fell silent, staring at his own palm.

Just pressing on it hurt intensely, but the pain in his body was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. He hadn’t thought much of it, but now realized the injury had become severely inflamed.

Seeing that his emotions had steadied a bit, Qi Beinan said, “If a teacher scolds his student for being dumb, perhaps he’s not so wise himself. What sort of teacher strikes a student’s right hand with a ruler?”

Zhao Guangzong said, “The teacher said hitting the right hand makes it hurt while writing, so it sticks in your memory.”

“Then does he not know that injuring the right hand will only make your writing worse?”

Watching Qi Beinan gently applying the medicine and even standing up for him, Zhao Guangzong’s nose stung and his eyes brimmed with tears.

The teacher scolded and insulted him, said it was hard teaching the son of a farmer. Even his classmates secretly called him a dumb mule and avoided him.

That he could read and understand texts was all thanks to the teacher, and for that, he never dared harbor any resentment. He believed that if he could just improve, the teacher would one day see him in a different light, and the classmates would change their view as well.

No matter how much he tried to rationalize and numb himself, a few simple words from Qi Beinan still hit him straight in the heart.

He couldn’t suppress the sorrow any longer and began to cry softly.

Qi Beinan patted his back and asked, “Is your teacher’s surname Chen?”

He gestured with his hands. “He’s got a bit of a beard under his chin, crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, about forty-something?”

Zhao Guangzong nodded, his voice trembling, “How do you know? Did you see him today?”

Qi Beinan shook his head. “I have other ties with him.”

With a serious tone, he said, “Guangzong, have you ever considered that maybe you’re not slow at all—maybe it’s your teacher who lacks integrity?”

Zhao Guangzong’s chest rose slightly. He hesitated, “Teacher Chen… he’s just being strict with me. Doesn’t that mean he cares?”

“If that’s how you see it, then today I’ll be the student who dares speak ill of his teacher.”

Qi Beinan continued, “Think carefully—does Teacher Chen treat only you this harshly? Or is he like this with everyone? Compare how he treats students from different family backgrounds. You don’t have to answer me. Just reflect on it.”

Zhao Guangzong’s mind drifted to his classmates who were most favored by the teacher—one was the son of a wealthy silk merchant, one the son of the county registrar, and another…

He froze.

Truthfully, he didn’t need to think very hard—he already knew the answer.

The teacher either hit or scolded him, but always spoke kindly and warmly to those young masters.

In the past, he had never thought much of it. He simply assumed those classmates were smarter and more hardworking, which was why they earned praise.

And since he was slower, the punishments seemed justified.

But Qi Beinan’s words hit him like cold water to the face—he dared not think further.

Seeing his expression, Qi Beinan knew he’d gotten through.

He said, “I once met Teacher Chen.”

Qi Beinan then told him everything about encountering Teacher Chen running a stall in the middle of the market.

“That alone shows this Mr. Chen’s character isn’t exactly upright. I didn’t know he was a teacher until one day a few students came to his stall to ask for couplets, and I overheard them talking.”

Zhao Guangzong was stunned. “The ones who came to buy couplets from you really were my classmates. Around New Year, suddenly everyone started passing them out—and even I got a pair.”

 At the time, he’d been overjoyed—the spring couplets were written so beautifully he’d even wanted to ask for a copy of the calligraphy.

But when the teacher saw the couplets, his expression turned foul. Since Zhao Guangzong didn’t have many friends at the private school, no one had explained it to him.

Only now did he realize the truth: his classmate had deliberately bought the couplets to provoke Teacher Chen.

Learning the reason behind it all only confirmed Zhao Guangzong’s belief that Teacher Chen showed clear favoritism.

The classmate who bought the couplets was surnamed Wu. His family owned two large silk shops in town—a rich and pampered young master.

Even though he had disrespected Teacher Chen in such a blatant way, he had never been reprimanded for it. Zhao Guangzong didn’t even dare imagine what would happen if he did the same.

Qi Beinan said, “With this kind of teacher treating you like that, how could you ever study peacefully under such constant fear?”

“Sure, being humble in your studies is a virtue. But if he tramples all over your dignity and pride, what kind of teacher is that?”

Zhao Guangzong’s mind was a complete mess.

“If my grades improved, would Teacher still dislike me so much?”

Qi Beinan gently shook his head. “That’s foolish thinking.”

“He’s not treating you poorly because your performance is lacking—he’s doing it because of who you are. And yet you still want to prove yourself to someone like that? What for?”

“Beinan… my good brother… tell me what I should do.”

Qi Beinan paused, then said, “You’re just a student. If you try to go against him, you won’t win. You’re learning under his roof—he has countless ways to make things difficult for you. But if you don’t resist and instead try to please him, given how he flatters the rich and bullies the poor, how would you ever win his favor?”

“So perhaps the better way is to leave that environment. If you don’t have to see him anymore, you don’t have to fear him. And if he doesn’t see you, he can’t pick on you either.”

Zhao Guangzong listened seriously but quickly shook his head. “I can’t.”

“There aren’t scholars on every street, true—but Teacher Chen isn’t the only one. There are other private schools, other teachers. Why not?”

“You don’t understand. I’ve been studying under Teacher Chen since I was seven. It’s not that I’m clinging to some three-year bond with my mentor. But my father went through hell to get me into his private school—he called in every favor he could and ran himself into the ground just to get me admitted.”

Zhao Guangzong no longer hid anything from Qi Beinan and told him everything about Teacher Chen.

It turned out this Teacher Chen was quite something. Not only did he hold the degree of xiucai, but his family had been scholars for three generations. His father was a juren and currently held a post at the county’s academic administration, helping oversee the county school.

After passing the county and prefectural exams, a tongsheng would be eligible for entry into the county school. But local scholars were few, and many were eliminated during the two rounds of testing—sometimes, extra seats would open up at the county school.

“Studying at Teacher Chen’s private school meant that even if you failed one or both rounds, you still had a good chance of getting into the county school.”

“Not to mention the silver my father spent greasing the wheels—just the entrance gifts when I formally became his student cost thirty guan. Then every holiday, we had to send generous offerings. On ordinary days, our family’s fat chickens and geese were delivered to him constantly.”

“Before I was ten, I lived at my maternal grandfather’s place—he was a butcher. Whenever anyone from Teacher Chen’s household came to buy meat, he never took a single coin. He always picked the best cuts for them.”

As Zhao Guangzong spoke, his heart ached more and more. “My father, my mother, my grandfather—they all worked so hard to ensure I could study properly. But I’ve turned out to be so useless. I’ve already let them down. How could I let all their past efforts go to waste?”

Qi Beinan understood then. No wonder Village Head Zhao once said it took everything they had just to rent a small place in town—it hadn’t been modesty. Their family truly was strapped for money.

Books, ink, and paper alone were expensive enough. But having to constantly appease a teacher like that? No ordinary family could afford it.

Qi Beinan’s father was also a teacher. During holidays, his students would give simple gifts, but never lavish ones—just eggs, fruits, vegetables, coarse cloth—never anything over the top. His father accepted only to honor the students’ goodwill, never to profit from them.

Teacher Chen, on the other hand, clearly used his position to line his pockets.

By that logic, Zhao Guangzong’s family had already shown great respect. Yet Teacher Chen still acted so arrogantly—probably because the richer families gave even more.

There was one thing Qi Beinan didn’t quite understand though: with all the money he received, why would Teacher Chen still set up a stall to sell spring couplets for a few coins?

Maybe it was for show. Or maybe there was some other reason.

Qi Beinan sighed quietly and collected his thoughts before saying to Zhao Guangzong, “Precisely because your family has already paid so much, once you realize this path won’t work, you need to turn back before it’s too late.”

“If you keep throwing money and energy into it, there will be no room left for regret. You’re still young—you have many chances to start over. Why keep wasting everything on someone like him?”

“Did he ever promise you—if you joined his private school, he would personally guarantee you entry into the county school? If not, and judging by the way he treats you now, do you really believe that outcome is still possible?”

Zhao Guangzong had nothing to say. His heart was already wavering.

Truth be told, he’d wanted to leave that school long ago. But because of all his family had done for him, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Qi Beinan grasped his shoulder and said, “If you can’t say it yourself, but you truly want this—I’ll speak on your behalf.”

Zhao Guangzong sniffled and wiped his tears. “No. You’ve already done so much for me with your guidance. I’m deeply moved. Let me go and speak to my parents myself—I can’t keep hesitating or being afraid!”

Seeing that Zhao Guangzong had made up his mind, Qi Beinan’s eyes curved with a faint smile. “Village Head Zhao is a reasonable man. If your parents truly care for you, they won’t let you keep suffering like this.”

Zhao Guangzong gripped Qi Beinan’s hand, trembling slightly. His lips were tightly pressed together—no amount of thanks could express the feelings in his heart.

“Oh, right—this is something Xiao Bao insisted I bring to you.”

Qi Beinan pulled out a small bundle of candied preserved fruits from his robe and smiled. “Something sweet to chase away the tears.”

Warmth surged in Zhao Guangzong’s chest. He received the bundle with both hands.

…

By the time Qi Beinan arrived at the Fang residence to pick up Xiao Yuanbao, night had already fallen.

The Zhao family had wanted him to stay for dinner, but since they had serious family matters to discuss, it wouldn’t be proper for an outsider to be present.

If it hadn’t been for Zhao Guangzong finishing school late, Qi Beinan wouldn’t have stayed so long either.

Although he didn’t eat at the Zhao home, when he got to the Fang house, he was surprised to find that Grandma Sun had saved him a meal.

“Didn’t know when you’d be back, so I didn’t wait for you for dinner.”

Grandma Sun brought him a bowl of rice porridge with poached egg and insisted he finish his meal before taking Xiao Yuanbao home.

Qi Beinan chuckled and sat down. Being overly polite with the Fang family would only raise suspicion.

“Bao Ge’er already had his dinner, got sleepy, and could barely keep his eyes open. When we told him to go to bed, he said he was afraid he’d fall asleep and miss you coming to get him.”

Granny Sun sat nearby, doing some needlework under the lamplight.

“Second Sister and Third Brother had to coax him quite a while before he finally went to bed. He’s already washed up—you can just let him sleep when you get home.”

Qi Beinan mixed the egg custard into his steamed rice and ate it with a side of pickled vegetables. After so much talking with Zhao Guangzong, his throat was dry and his stomach completely empty.

“I ended up chatting with Guangzong at the Village Head’s house. Lost track of time.”

Fang Youliang came out of the bath and joined in. “You’re both scholars—it’s normal to have a lot to talk about.”

Qi Beinan smiled but didn’t mention anything about the issues at the private school.

He changed the subject. “Does our village have any stove masters—cooking teachers?”

Grandma Sun adjusted the needle in her hair and said, “Oh yes, there’s Master Jiang from Cat Slope, Madam Li from Big Rock, and Old Man Xu the cook… three or four of them at least.”

“What’s this for? Planning to host a banquet?”

Qi Beinan smiled. “I was just asking around, thinking about letting Xiao Bao learn a proper craft someday.”

Hearing this, Grandma Sun paused her sewing, and her cloudy old eyes lit up. “Now that’s a fine idea. If you want to learn a trade well, best start young.”

Fang Youliang also plopped down beside them. “It’s a good idea, but finding a master is no easy task. Those with real skill are usually proud and won’t take apprentices lightly.”

“Most of them pass their trade on to their own sons or nephews. Outsiders wanting to learn have to offer generous gifts just for the chance, and even then they’ll test whether you’ve got the talent for it.”

“Exactly. After all, it’s a livelihood skill—teach a student too well and the teacher goes hungry. Most people are reluctant to pass it on.”

Grandma Sun agreed as well.

Qi Beinan understood all that. “I know it’s hard, but we’ve got to at least ask around. Bao Ge’er really enjoys cooking, and it’s rare to see him so eager about something.”

Fang Youliang said, “If you’re set on this, I’ll tell you now—don’t bother with Old Man Xu. He’s difficult to deal with and doesn’t have a good reputation around here.”

Grandma Sun nodded. “Just see if there’s any chance with Master Jiang and Madam Li. The two of them have very different temperaments, but thankfully neither of them has a bad heart.”

Qi Beinan took careful note of it all, thanked Granny Sun, and figured he’d ask around more when the time came.

You can’t rely on just one family’s word when asking after people.

Finding a proper teacher for Xiao Yuanbao’s craft was no trivial matter.

Fang Jie’er overheard the conversation from the inner room. She stood silently at the door, not making a sound.

When she heard they were looking for a teacher for Bao Ge’er, her heart warmed. But hearing how difficult it would be, her mood dimmed again, and she quietly returned to her room.

…

Back at the Zhao household—

As soon as Qi Beinan left, Village Head Zhao and Madam Zhang saw their son’s eyes swollen like walnuts. Before Zhao Guangzong could even speak, they already knew something had happened.

Upon questioning, Zhao Guangzong finally used this chance to tell them everything that had happened over the past two years at the private school.

The couple was shaken to their core—they didn’t even touch a single bite of the dinner they’d prepared.

“I kept lying to myself, thinking Teacher Chen was just strict. If Beinan hadn’t come to talk to me, I wouldn’t have had the courage to tell you and let you worry.”

“Silly child! If something happens and you don’t tell us, that’s what makes us worry!”

Village Head Zhao paced in silence, hands behind his back, fuming. Madam Zhang wiped her eyes, heart aching for her son. She kept calling him foolish for hiding so much suffering just to keep the family at peace.

That night, the couple lay in bed without even looking at each other.

“We treated him like an honored teacher, bent over backwards to please him—and he looks down on us just because we’re farmers. He singles out our son to bully. If that’s how he wants it, then I’ll make sure he sees we’re not the kind of people who let others trample us!”

Madam Zhang bit down on her silver tooth, staring at the canopy.

Though Village Head Zhao didn’t say a word, his expression showed he fully agreed with his wife.

…

The next morning, before daybreak, he woke the farmhand and had the ox cart prepared. The couple took Zhao Guangzong with them to the private school.

The misty dawn cast the narrow alleys in a blanket of white—barely ten steps away and you could no longer make out a person’s face.

Suddenly, a sharp and ringing tirade echoed down most of the alley.

“What kind of teacher are you, running a private school like this! No moral conduct to speak of—favoring the rich and scorning the poor! Students with well-off families you fawn over, but those without you curse and beat—hitting the right hand until the child can’t even write!”

“You look down on us country folk—then why did you accept my son as a student in the first place? And don’t you go accepting the chickens, ducks, and fish our peasant family sent you!”

Madam Zhang stood at the gate of the private school, arms akimbo, shouting at the top of her lungs as she laid into Teacher Chen.

She was the daughter of a butcher, used to calling out to customers in the market long before marriage—tough as nails and sharp with her tongue.

Her voice was loud and full of energy, so forceful that no one could ignore her.

Teacher Chen, who’d always been treated with respect as a scholar, had never encountered such a scene. Early that morning, when he saw the couple approaching, he’d assumed they were bringing him another delivery of meat. He hadn’t expected that, without so much as a greeting, they would start cursing him to his face.

It was still early, most of the villagers were at home, but with people passing through the alley and the couple shouting at full volume at the doorway, the commotion quickly drew attention.

His face flushed red with embarrassment as he tried to shut the door, but Village Head Zhao pressed it firmly open.

“When you beat students, your door’s wide open! But when a parent comes to ask questions, it must be shut? What kind of logic is that? A student’s dignity doesn’t matter, but a teacher’s face must be preserved?”

The students who’d come early to school gathered in the corners, watching the drama unfold. Hearing the noise, curious passersby also began gathering nearby, whispering among themselves.

Teacher Chen, furious, spat insults at the couple. “Uncultured! Shameless…”

But he was a scholar—skilled in veiled barbs, but when it came to street-level shouting matches with rural women, he was helpless. His face turned purple with rage, yet all he could manage were those two words.

“Your son’s so slow because he takes after you two unreasonable peasants!”

“My son is bright—everyone in the village says so! But the moment we send him here, he’s labeled stupid. Who’s really unreasonable here? What kind of teacher fails to teach properly!”

Madam Zhang clapped her hands and turned to the gathering crowd.

“This Teacher Chen, this so-called xiucai, took thirty yuan as entrance fees! A black-hearted old scoundrel. Took our money and still bullies our child—singles out the poor to pick on!”

The crowd broke into murmurs and whispers, pointing fingers at Teacher Chen.

“Thirty yuan? That’s outrageous…”

“I often walk by here and hear him scolding students—I used to think he was just strict. But now I see he’s downright cruel.”

Caught off guard by the onslaught, Teacher Chen had no way to fight back. Fortunately, his wife and a few strong relatives heard the commotion and rushed over from the back courtyard.

They meant to restrain Madam Zhang, but she was strong and unyielding—none of them could hold her down. Village Head Zhao seized the moment and shouted, “They’re hitting her! The scholar’s household is attacking people!”

That stirred up even more excitement from the crowd.

With so many watching, the Chen family no longer dared make another move.

Teacher Chen was humiliated and panicked, sweat pouring from his brow.

He gritted his sleeves. “What do you two want from me!”

…

Later that day, Qi Beinan and Zhao Guangzong sat with hot tea, listening as Zhao Guangzong recounted how his parents stormed the private school on his behalf. Qi Beinan listened with great interest.

“My mother scolded him at the door for the time it takes an incense stick to burn. Once she’d vented her anger, my father demanded half the tuition and fees back. Teacher Chen is stingy—he didn’t want to give it, but he was so desperate to save face that he handed over the money to get rid of us.”

Qi Beinan laughed. “For someone as shameless as Teacher Chen, that’s the only method that works. Try reasoning with him in private and he’d just talk circles around you.”

Zhao Guangzong agreed—such a petty man could never be handled by conventional means.

Families like theirs had only two options when wronged—either swallow it silently or use drastic, even self-harming means to fight back.

Zhao Guangzong leaned against the back of his chair and looked up at the ceiling. “We’ve vented our anger, but we’ve also completely offended Teacher Chen. There’s no way he’ll let it go. With his connections, it’ll be harder for me to keep studying.”

When Teacher Chen returned the money, he’d quietly warned them that this wasn’t over.

Qi Beinan understood Zhao Guangzong’s concern. Teacher Chen did have connections, and dealing with him wouldn’t be easy.

But what was done was done—fear alone wouldn’t solve anything.

He reassured him, “You’ve exposed his true nature, and now his reputation is in ruins. He might even face disciplinary action from the academic office. And teachers who associate with someone like him—there’s no need to study under them anyway.”

Zhao Guangzong nodded. “That’s what my father said too. He told me not to go looking for trouble, but also not to fear it. If your spine stays soft, you’ll only invite more bullies.”

They continued chatting for a while longer before Zhao Guangzong prepared to head home. He reminded Qi Beinan to come to his place in a couple of days—his parents wanted to thank him in person.

Qi Beinan declined at first—after all, today Zhao Guangzong had already brought a roast chicken, a pound of lamb offal, and two bundles of candied fruit to express their thanks. No need to make more trouble.

But Zhao Guangzong insisted, saying his mother had already prepared the dishes—it would be rude not to accept. So Qi Beinan finally agreed.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚