“Achoo!”
In Tingzhou, at the Wang Family Residence, a loud sneeze from Wang Shi’qi-lang’s residence interrupted the cheerful laughter.
Wang Shi’qi-lang raised his hand and rubbed his nose.
“Who’s talking about me?” he muttered.
“Young Master, have some wine.”
A beautiful maid beside him offered a golden cup, her charming eyes sparkling as she spoke in a sweet, flirtatious voice.
Wang Shi’qi-lang didn’t drink. Instead, he frowned.
“Did my mother really leave?” he asked.
“Young Master, don’t worry. Madam left before dawn,” one of the maids replied. “She wouldn’t let you fake your hanging for nothing…”
Two maids then reached out, tenderly touching Wang Shi’qi-lang’s neck.
“Such a big bruise…” they cooed sympathetically.
Annoyed, Wang Shi’qi-lang pushed them away.
“This is all your fault! I told you to hurry up, but you still took too long…” he grumbled, rubbing his neck with lingering fear. “I almost really hanged myself to death.”
The maids crowded around him, offering sweet, soothing words like a chorus of twittering birds.
“Just as I expected—pretending to be half-dead wasn’t enough. Father still refused to call off the engagement,” Wang Shi’qi-lang said, a hint of smugness in his voice. “Good thing I dared to take it all the way…”
“Young Master, now your wish has surely come true,” the maids giggled.
Yes, his wish had come true. Wang Shi’qi-lang was in high spirits, the exhaustion of the past few days completely gone.
“Come, come, let’s drink!” he called out.
The beautiful maids swarmed around him, filling the hall with laughter and chatter.
“Young Master, try this…” One maid leaned against him, bringing a spoonful of tofu to his lips. “Our local tofu is the best—rarely can you find it elsewhere…”
Wang Shi’qi-lang took a big bite—then immediately spat it out.
“What’s so good about this? You call this tofu?” he scoffed, his face full of disdain. “You’ve never tasted real tofu.”
The maids clinging to him cooed and gasped in exaggerated admiration, half-genuine, half-flirtatious.
“Then what is real tofu, hmm…?”
In the early winter, the room was as warm as spring. The maids wore only low-cut dresses, their fair skin exposed, rippling like waves as they swayed and giggled.
Wang Shi’qi-lang’s eyes burned with desire. He pulled the nearest girl into his arms, burying his face between her soft, towering curves.
“Just like this—so tender, so smooth… good enough to devour in one bite…” he murmured with a laugh, his voice soon muffled, replaced by the girl’s playful, coquettish protests.
“Young Master, don’t…”
The room brimmed with untamed passion.
“Young Master, Young Master, where did you eat that tofu?”
Amid the laughter, the question slipped in.
Wang Shi’qi-lang, who had been lost in pleasure—starved of such delights for far too long—was hastily shedding his clothes, a spark ready to ignite into flame. But at those words, he froze.
In the capital…
The capital…
Not only had he tasted exquisite tofu there, but he had also met the stunning courtesan… and her—Cheng Jiao-niang.
Cheng Jiao–niang…
“Young Master, Young Master…” The beautiful maid, who had been lost in the passion of his kisses, suddenly sensed something amiss and quickly called out to him, shaking his waist with a hint of urgency.
With a startled “Aiya!”, Wang Shi’qi-lang loosened his grip—and the beauty in his arms fell to the ground with a thud. Caught off guard by the sudden fall, she let out a pained cry.
“No more mentions of the capital!”
Wang Shi’qi-lang’s agitated shout echoed through the room.
Meanwhile, in the capital, Qin Shi’san-lang also wore a look of surprise.
“Are you certain?” he asked.
The servant before him nodded eagerly.
“No mistake this time—I made sure to verify everything. Madam Qin truly sent Lady Wu to Jiang-zhou to arrange a marriage,” he said. “And she took more than one family’s birth charts.”
Qin Shi’san-lang chuckled and shook his head.
I wonder if our own family’s is among them?
He stood up and strode toward the door, only to pause after a few steps.
Rather than the servant uncovering this information, it was more likely that Madam Qin had let him find out—yet deliberately left half the story untold, waiting for him to ask.
Qin Shi’san-lang smiled.
Well, I won’t ask.
With a turn of his heel, he called out:
“Come. A rare day of leisure—let’s go drink at Tai Ping Residence.”
The servant cheerfully acknowledged the order and scampered off to fetch the horses.
The midday sun had chased away the winter chill. Though Tai Ping Residence didn’t do ‘Passing Immortals’, ‘eat-as-you-please’ was a common sight. The main hall was already packed, and those who arrived late due to the cold could only sigh in regret, reserving spots for the next day. Few lingered outside waiting for seats—but they were not entirely absent.
“Who ordered the Eight-Treasure Assortment of pastries?” A server lifted a lacquered box and called out loudly.
Beneath the thatched awning outside, Chun Ling—who had been warming herself by the charcoal brazier—sprang to her feet.
“Me!” She hurried to the entrance, her voice eager.
“Ah, it’s you again,” the young server said with a grin. “You come every few days without fail, little miss.”
Chun Ling giggled. “My mistress adores them. Blame your kitchen for making such delicious pastries!”
The server beamed at the praise and handed her the box.
“Your restaurant have so many diners,” Chun Ling remarked, glancing at the bustling hall.
“Indeed! You shouldn’t just snack on pastries—come try our proper dishes sometime,” the server replied with a chuckle.
Chun Ling smiled faintly. “My mistress can’t really dine out.”
Just then, the host at the entrance called out in a clear, announcing voice:
“Young Master Qin! What an honor!”
Young Master Qin?
So he really comes here…
Chun Ling’s eyes sparkled as she turned around. There, cloaked in a grand fur-lined cape, the young nobleman tossed his reins aside and pushed back his hood with a grin, striding forward with effortless grace. Against the bleak winter backdrop, his arrival was like a stroke of vivid ink—sudden, radiant, alive.
“Young Master Qin, what brings you here at this hour?”
A young lady’s laughter rang out from inside the doorway.
Chun Ling immediately lowered her head and stepped aside. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a maiden of about sixteen or seventeen years.
“No seats left—come earlier next time,” a maid said playfully.
Qin Shi’san-lang smiled but paid no heed to the remark.
“Your mistress would never say such a thing,” he chuckled, raising a finger in mock admonishment.
The maid laughed and curtsied in response.
“Why have you come here today? Isn’t Immortal’s Abode busy enough?” Qin Shi’san-lang inquired.
“The tofu workshop needs expansion,” the maid replied, following a few steps behind after Young Master Qin entered. “Young Master, could you speak to that old monk for us? Ask him to raise our prices…”
“Does it need my intervention? With your silver tongue, Ban Qin, how could that old monk ever win an argument against you?”
“Since he can’t win, the old monk simply stops talking altogether…”
Watching the two banter as they moved inside and ascended to the second floor, Chun Ling unconsciously took a step forward.
“Miss?” The attendant at the door asked, puzzled.
Chun Ling quickly retreated.
“Can one purchase your tofu to take away?” she inquired.
The attendant smiled and shook his head.
“With demand outstripping supply, we truly can’t offer takeaway service now,” he explained.
Chun Ling nodded and changed the subject, saying no more. Clutching her box of pastries, she walked away. Seated in her carriage, she turned for one last look.
Was this Tai Ping Residence the lady‘s foothold in the capital? Were these two people the gatekeepers she left behind in capital?
As the carriage moved, Tai Ping Residence waxed and waned in her vision.
Chun Ling extended her hand toward the midday sun, stretching two fingers to frame the shrinking image of Tai Ping Residence within her sight. With a gentle pinch, the establishment vanished from view beneath the sunlight. Tilting her head back, she smiled soundlessly.
…
A stone plunged into the pond, sending up a splash of water.
Cheng Qi-niang shook her hand dry and turned back with a huff.
“Hey, what exactly do you want to do?” she demanded.
Behind her, Cheng Jiao-niang was surveying their surroundings with a wistful expression. She had already walked through the entire estate, yet nothing matched her memories.
“What’s over there?” She pointed into the distance.
Cheng Qi-niang glanced up.
“That’s outside,” she said.
“Is your home… only this big?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Why did that tone rub her the wrong way?
Cheng Qi-niang snorted.
“Plenty of people would kill to live in an estate this big,” she retorted.
The maid at her side hurriedly shot Cheng Qi-niang a warning look, but the girl pretended not to see.
Cheng Jiao-niang remained unfazed.
“Let’s go take a look outside,” she said.
“Why go out in such cold weather?” Cheng Qi-niang grumbled, before remembering her mother’s instructions and forcing herself to be patient. “There’s nothing fun out there—just filth and chaos, with beggars everywhere… If you want to go out, wait until another day when we can all go together.”
“You don’t need to accompany me,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied with a faint smile. “I’ll just take a walk by myself.”
“Why won’t you listen to me?” Cheng Qi-niang said irritably, quickening her steps to follow. “Come back with me—I’ll teach you how to play chess…”
“I already know how to play chess. No need to teach me,” Cheng Jiao-niang responded without breaking stride.
She knows chess? Since when does a fool know chess?
Cheng Qi-niang pursed her lips in exasperation but had no choice but to trail after her.
The lotus pond was adjacent to the back gate, and they arrived after a short walk. The maid at the gate promptly opened it upon seeing Cheng Qi-niang.
A wave of clamor immediately greeted them—children laughing and darting about, men and women bustling past with loads balanced on their shoulders or backs.
“This area is quite large,” Cheng Jiao-niang remarked, gazing across the road at the opposite side.
A haphazard sprawl of uneven, mismatched houses—some old, some new—crowded together in a murky jumble.
What a fool. The wilderness is vast too—why don’t you go live there?
“That’s South Cheng,” Cheng Qi-niang said, lifting her sleeve to cover her nose and mouth in disgust as she complained to the servant beside her. “It reeks. Tell Mother to drive them away—their pigs, dogs, chickens, and ducks are filthy. They should tear all this down, clear it out, and ideally build a wall to block it off. Keep it far from our family…”
Cheng Jiao-niang had already stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the entirely different world before her.
South Cheng…
At the North Cheng residence, First Madam Cheng was receiving guests.
“You’re from the Qin family of the capital?”
First Madam Cheng studied the two women who had entered, her tone laced with curiosity. Their attire and bearing were undeniably refined, distinct from the local women of Jiang-zhou.
“Yes,” one of the women replied with a smile, her gaze settling on First Madam Cheng. “You must be the young lady’s aunt?”
First Madam Cheng nodded.
“I am the head of the Cheng family. May I ask what brings you here?” Her hands, resting on her knees, clenched slightly without her realizing it.
“Our madam has arranged several potential marriage matches for the young mistress,” the woman said without preamble, opening a box and sliding it forward. “We’d like to know your family’s thoughts.”
So it’s true!
First Madam Cheng’s heart lurched. Her eyes dropped to the box, where several betrothal resumes lay neatly arranged.
What kind of families are these…?
Even if this was the Zhou family’s doing, for the Qin family—connected to the princess’s household—to act as intermediaries, the proposed matches couldn’t be too shabby…
A marriage alliance with a capital family…
Her hand twitched, almost reaching out of its own accord.
A soft cough sounded from behind the screen.
First Madam Cheng startled back to awareness and straightened her posture.
No matter how prestigious these families are… they have nothing to do with our Chengs. This would only pave the way for the Zhous…
But shouldn’t one always look out for oneself first?
“How very kind of you,” First Madam Cheng said with a practiced smile, pushing the box back across the table. “But I must inform you – our Jiao-niang is already betrothed.”
