“A maid died?”
Upon hearing the report, Master Zhou was startled.
Even Madam Zhou, who had been coughing incessantly in the inner chamber, as if she were on the verge of death, fell silent. Without needing the help of the maid, she walked out on her own.
How could a maid have died?
What bad luck!
Not only had someone carried a dead body to their house, but now someone had died in their own household as well!
“What happened?” she asked. “How did she die? How could she just die like that?”
Servants were property—they could be bought, sold, or exchanged. But they were also human; they could naturally fall ill or die. However, a master could not simply kill a servant at will. If word got out, the authorities would investigate. Although such matters were often hushed up, they were still a hassle to deal with.
Back in the day, even Mao Wencai, a high-ranking official in the Three Judicial Offices, had his promising career ruined when he was demoted and sent away for beating a maid to death after being reported by a censor.
Why had all these troubles suddenly emerged?
Life had been going so well for them!
Ever since that lady entered their household…
The thought flashed through Madam Zhou’s mind, but now was not the time to dwell on it.
“Speak quickly, what happened?” Madam Zhou hurriedly looked at the maid and shouted again.
“Madam, she tried to hang herself, but she was discovered in time—she’s not dead, not dead,” the maid quickly replied.
Master Zhou and Madam Zhou both let out a sigh of relief. It was good that she hadn’t died, but at the same time, they were furious.
“What exactly happened?” Madam Zhou asked.
“It’s… it’s that maid from the laundry room—the one who ruined Madam’s clothes. She was supposed to be sold off, but she couldn’t accept it and tried to hang herself while no one was in the room. Fortunately, someone outside noticed and rescued her in time…” the maid explained.
Upon hearing this, Madam Zhou was enraged.
“Such a wretched servant! Committing a mistake was bad enough, and now she dares to use death to threaten us?” she shouted.
“If she wants to die, let her die! If she can’t even manage that, throw her out—I don’t care!” Master Zhou added, flinging his sleeves and walking away, no longer bothering with the matter.
In the servants’ quarters, a crowd of maids had gathered, engaged in noisy chatter. They pointed at the room, whispering among themselves.
Before long, a maid was carried out from inside.
“How bold—she actually dared to seek death.”
“She probably just wanted to avoid being sent away. But it’s useless—Master ordered her to be thrown out…”
The maids were gossiping loudly, their words unfiltered. Suddenly, a reprimanding voice came from behind, and they turned around, startled.
“Sixth Young Master!”
Everyone hurriedly stepped aside and bowed to make way.
The young men carrying the door plank also quickly stopped in their tracks.
Zhou Liu-lang stepped forward.
“Is she still alive?” he asked.
“Yes, still alive,” the steward replied.
He stopped in front of the wooden plank, looking down at the maid lying on it—her hair disheveled, face deathly pale, eyes dull and lifeless.
For some reason, he couldn’t recall what she had looked like when he first saw her.
Was she always like this? Just like this?
A maid so full of misery and despair, someone no one in the Zhou family would spare a second glance at—was this really the person he had brought back from Jiang-zhou?
Had he gone blind?
“Trying to die?” He stared at the maid on the plank and slowly spoke. “Useless!”
His voice gradually rose.
“Useless!”
“Useless!”
The maids entered and moved away the small table in front of Cheng Jiao-niang. The bowls and plates on it had already been cleaned of food.
“Miss.” A maid presented her with a cup of water.
Cheng Jiao-niang took it, turned her head slightly, and raised her sleeve to cover her mouth as she rinsed.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. A maid who had been busy in the kitchen entered again—this time, not carrying a meal but an assortment of snacks.
“Miss, I remember you love Tai Ping steamed buns. Look, I’ve made a few new kinds.” She knelt down, her voice carrying both excitement and nervousness. “This one is filled with pork, and this one is vegetable-filled…”
The maid on the side watched curiously, occasionally glancing at Cheng Jiao-niang.
Cheng Jiao-niang’s gaze lingered on a particular plate. Before she could speak, the maid quickly reached out, took the snack she was looking at, and broke off a piece.
“Miss, try it,” she said.
Cheng Jiao-niang reached out, took it, and ate.
The young maid watched her nervously.
“Still… too fragrant,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
The maid’s expression immediately turned uneasy, and she lowered her head.
“Ah, ah, little lady,” the long-overlooked Old Master Zhang spoke up from the side. “That’s enough, isn’t it? Don’t be so picky—just appreciate the effort.”
Cheng Jiao-niang glanced at the maid.
“You… are not fit to make steamed buns,” she said.
Old Master Zhang shook his head, but the young maid lowered her head, bowed, and responded.
“Yes, I am clumsy,” she said. Though her voice carried fear, it couldn’t completely hide the joy within. She lifted her head and pushed another snack forward. “Miss, try this one. I made these dumplings with millet flour.”
Cheng Jiao-niang glanced at it. The maid carefully observed her expression, but this time, she didn’t take the initiative to pick it up.
Cheng Jiao-niang straightened her posture and turned to Old Master Zhang.
“I’ve had enough,” she said, offering a polite bow of thanks before looking back at the maid. “Your cooking is very good. However, snacks are meant only to stave off hunger—they are optional. To make them truly well, they must be crafted with more refinement than regular meals.”
The maid nodded excitedly.
“Yes, I understand,” she said, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Miss, for your guidance.”
The maid looked surprised, glancing at the young girl, then at Cheng Jiao-niang.
“What? This skill… was taught by the mistress?” she couldn’t help but ask.
The young girl nodded.
“I don’t know anything before,” she said, her eyes glistening with tears. “It was Miss who taught me.”
The maid couldn’t help but look at Cheng Jiao-niang.
“Miss, is there anything you don’t know how to do?” she asked with a smile.
Cheng Jiao-niang remained silent.
“Alright, you two, quiet down. Whether you’re new or old, can any of you pour me a cup of tea?” Old Master Zhang said, feigning irritation.
The maid and the young girl both laughed.
“I don’t know how to write poetry,” Cheng Jiao-niang suddenly said.
The people in the room were momentarily stunned before realizing—she was answering the maid’s earlier question.
So that silence just now… Had she been going through all the things in the world in her mind, figuring out what she could and couldn’t do?
“Miss is the most amazing,” the young girl said excitedly, breaking the silence.
“I’ve finished my meal,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, sitting up straight. “I should take my leave now.”
Old Master Zhang smiled and adjusted his posture.
“Lady Cheng, did you come here just for a meal?” he asked with a laugh.
“Yes,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, then glanced at the young girl. “The food… was not bad.”
Old Master Zhang looked rather pleased with himself.
“Of course,” he said.
“That’s why I’d like to borrow your maid for a while,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Old Master Zhang was momentarily stunned, and the maid’s expression froze as well, but the young girl was overjoyed.
“Miss, Miss, are you going to take me with you?” she blurted out excitedly.
Cheng Jiao-niang did not answer her, continuing to look at Old Master Zhang.
“She, I’m giving her to you,” she said, pointing to the maid.
The maid’s face turned pale.
She finally understood why the mistress had asked for her name! She finally understood why she had felt uneasy when leaving!
Miss!
“Miss, you don’t want me anymore?” she cried out, reaching for Cheng Jiao-niang’s sleeve and bowing her head, sobbing uncontrollably.
In the study, Zhang Chun heard the sound of crying and frowned as he put down the scroll in his hand.
What was going on today?
There was crying again?
“I can cook too, Miss! Please teach me, I’ll definitely learn,” the maid cried, pulling at Cheng Jiao-niang’s sleeve.
The young girl standing nearby wore a complicated expression, unable to resist reaching out to grab Cheng Jiao-niang’s other sleeve, seemingly afraid that the Mistress would soften and change her mind because of the crying.
Old Master Zhang pressed his hand to his forehead.
“Now I’m the one who should be crying,” he shook his head and laughed. “Has it really come to this, that even the maids are rejecting me?”
The maid and the young girl finally came to their senses and quickly bowed to apologize.
“Master, Master, it’s not like that,” they choked out.
The usually quick-witted maid suddenly didn’t know what to say, and the young girl, who was already not good with words, was even more at a loss.
“Alright, stop crying,” Old Master Zhang laughed. “Didn’t you hear her clearly? It’s borrowing, it’s exchanging. When you borrow, you return, when you exchange, you exchange.”
At this point, he waved his hand.
“Let’s not talk about borrowing and exchanging anymore. If you need something, just take it and use it,” he said. “I don’t want the one left behind to spend all day crying. People might think I’m mistreating the maids.”
The maid and the young girl stopped crying and smiled.
“Master,” the two of them knelt down, one on each side, grabbing his sleeves. “Master is the best.”
Old Master Zhang shook his head with a smile.
“I’ll return her in a month,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, thanking him again, standing up to take her leave.
Old Master Zhang nodded, not asking what she planned to do with them, and stood to see her off.
“By the way,” he suddenly remembered something and called out to Cheng Jiao-niang. “Earlier, you said that of all the things in this world, the only thing you can’t do is write poetry?”
Cheng Jiao-niang paused, slightly turned, and looked back.
“Yes,” she replied.
