The Chen household was exceptionally quiet that afternoon, but it was a different kind of quiet compared to the somber stillness of recent days. With Old Master Chen having regained consciousness and news spreading that he could be cured, the current calm carried a sense of ease and leisure.
The sunlight was warm and pleasant. Sitting under the veranda, Cheng Jiao-niang leaned against a small desk, one hand propping up her head while the other casually traced characters on paper.
The maids nearby sat silently, holding their breath.
At the courtyard gate, a little girl of about four or five peeked in timidly. She seemed a bit shy, glancing in briefly before pulling back, only to peek again moments later.
The maids all noticed her but pretended not to see.
“Dan-niang,” Cheng Jiao-niang suddenly called out.
The little girl immediately came out from behind the courtyard gate, beaming with joy.
“Looking for me? Is there something you need?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Dan-niang ran over, slipped off her wooden clogs, and knelt down near her, her face lighting up with a bright smile.
“No, nothing,” she replied with a shake of her head.
Such unfiltered honesty from a child. Behind her, the maids lowered their heads, wondering why she came if there was nothing to say—surely, she could have made up something.
Cheng Jiao-niang’s lips curved into a gentle smile.
“It’s normal that there’s nothing,” she said, switching hands to continue her writing and drawing.
Dan-niang watched her with great interest.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Such unguarded innocence—what’s wrong with doing whatever one likes? But asking someone else about it… what if it’s seen as mocking the fool? That could cause trouble.
“I’m writing,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Writing by rubbing her finger on the desk, is that really writing? Only a child would believe that.
The maids muttered to themselves, and sure enough, they soon heard the child’s astonished voice.
“Do you write with your left hand?” Dan-niang asked, wide-eyed.
“Left hand, right hand, they’re both hands. Naturally, either can write,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Dan-niang nodded as if everything made sense now.
“Oh, yes, right, I should have thought of that,” she said.
Because you’re just a child, not an idiot.
The maids wished they could bury their heads in their shoulders.
Has the fool really recovered, or is she still not quite right? Why is she saying such foolish things?
Why hasn’t that maid come back yet? They were feeling uneasy.
While Cheng Jiao-niang was happily chatting with her visitor, Chen Dan-niang, Chen Shao also welcomed a guest.
He led a man out of Old Master Chen’s room and into the living room, where they both sat down.
“Indeed, much better,” the man said, his face full of relief. “His Majesty has been quite concerned.”
Chen Shao bowed respectfully.
“It’s my fault for causing His Majesty much worry,” he said, his voice choking with emotion.
“How could this possibly be your fault?” The man quickly reached out to support him, shaking his head. “It’s good that you’re well now, that’s all that matters.”
Chen Shao nodded.
“Where did you find this doctor?” the man asked, his curiosity piqued.
“She’s from Jiang-zhou. My father met her by chance on the way. At that time, she was the one who pointed out that my father had a hidden ailment, though we didn’t know it at the time,” Chen Shao replied, a hint of relief in his voice.
“Oh, so she’s one of those, the kind who can diagnose just by a glance,” the man said in surprise.
A divine doctor, huh? It’s truly remarkable, though still a bit strange. Chen Shao smiled but didn’t speak further.
He honestly didn’t know what to say.
“Could I meet her?” the man asked again.
Chen Shao hesitated for a moment.
“See me?” Cheng Jiao-niang looked at Chen Shao, her expression blank. “Why?”
Chen Shao was unsure how to answer.
“This person is my colleague, and we have a good relationship,” he explained.
“Then, what does that have to do with me?” Cheng Jiao-niang interrupted, her tone sharp.
Chen Shao was speechless.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” he quickly clarified, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
This lady—strange, indeed—seemed like an innocent child, clueless about the world, acting on whims without any consideration for anything else.
But what could be done about a child, after all?
“He heard of your remarkable skills and wished to make your acquaintance,” Chen Shao said.
“I don’t wish to meet him,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, standing up. “I need to rest now.”
Chen Shao wiped the sweat from his brow and returned to his guest.
“Lady Cheng is exhausted from the effort of applying needles and has gone to rest. Truly unfortunate timing,” he explained.
The man laughed heartily, unbothered.
“The old master’s health is most important. We can meet another day,” he said, preparing to take his leave.
Chen Shao quickly stopped him.
“Wait,” he said. “It’s been a long time since we’ve met. Now that my worries have eased somewhat, why not share a drink with me?”
With a sigh, he patted the man on the arm.
“I’ve been carrying these frustrations for days—it would be good to unburden myself,” he said.
Matters of family and state alike weighed heavily on Chen Shao during these difficult days. The man nodded in understanding.
“Go, prepare the wine,” Chen Shao said.
The young servant responded immediately.
“Oh, and bring a plate of yellow sparrow to go with the wine,” Chen Shao added.
The man raised an eyebrow, curious.
“Yellow sparrow?” he chuckled. “How much meat could there possibly be? You’re using it as a side dish?”
“The beauty isn’t in how much meat it has,” Chen Shao replied with a smile, linking arms with him as they walked. “You’ll know once you try it.”
The maid reached out and pinched the piece of cloth handed to her by the shopkeeper.
“This is the finest brocade?” she asked.
“Yes, yes, young lady, this is the latest style—Tianma-patterned brocade,” the shopkeeper replied.
And the most expensive, too.
“I’ll take some of this,” the maid nodded and said.
The shopkeeper, delighted, quickly gave instructions to his assistant to cut the fabric.
“I need a bit more…” The maid took out a piece of paper and looked at it. “Weft brocade, do you have Rui Jin Palace brocade?”
What?
The shopkeeper was momentarily stunned.
“Weft brocade? Rui Jin Palace brocade?” he asked. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s the same as Shu brocade,” the maid explained, still looking at the paper.
“We do have Shu brocade,” the shopkeeper quickly said, signaling his assistant to bring it out. “But it’s all warp brocade.”
The maid examined the paper again.
If it’s available, good. If not, it doesn’t matter.
“Then I’ll take this,” she said, selecting a few patterns and giving them a light tap.
Once the maid finished selecting the fabric, there was no need for her to worry about the rest. She stepped outside and waited, while casually observing the street.
“The capital is quite lively, isn’t it?” Steward Cao said. “If you’re not in a hurry, I can show you around.”
The maid gave a faint smile.
“No need, I’m very familiar with the capital,” she replied.
Steward Cao’s smile faltered slightly.
What does “familiar” mean? Isn’t this her first time here? A maid from the Cheng family, it’s rare for her to have been to the capital before.
“Steward Cao?”
A voice called out from nearby.
Steward Cao quickly looked over, startled, and hurried over.
“Sixth Young Master,” he greeted with a bow, then turned to the young man in the sedan. “Young Master Qin.”
Before either of them could speak, he gestured toward the back.
“I’m here to buy some things for Lady Cheng,” he explained.
Lady Cheng?
Zhou Liu-lang glanced at the shop, his gaze landing on the lady standing by the cart at the entrance.
Young Master Qin in the sedan also looked over, straightening his posture.
Is that her?
“Miss Ban Qin,” Steward Cao called out hurriedly.
So, these are the same unchanging Ban Qins?
Young Master Qin looked over with interest.
“This is our Sixth Young Master,” Steward Cao introduced enthusiastically.
The maid glanced at Zhou Liu-lang with a hint of surprise, and Zhou Liu-lang also looked at her.
The girl had bright, lively eyes. She didn’t bow, nor did she show any respect—just a faint, casual smile.
“It’s getting late. Steward Cao, if you have other matters, you may go ahead. I need to head back,” she said, giving a slight nod as a form of greeting, then turned and climbed into the carriage.
Steward Cao looked awkward, while Zhou Liu-lang’s expression hardened. Only Young Master Qin smiled.
“Steward Cao, you’ve forgotten my words again,” he chuckled.
Steward Cao forced a bitter smile.
“It was my mistake to say too much,” he replied.
“You,” Zhou Liu-lang said with a stern face, “send her back first.”
Steward Cao quickly responded, nodding, and hurriedly turned to follow her.
Watching the carriage slowly sway as it left the street, the maid never once glanced back.
“Now that you’ve seen the girl, what do you think?” Young Master Qin asked with a smile.
Ban Qin, Ban Qin… just a person, just a name.
“It almost seems like she’s facing an enemy,” Zhou Liu-lang sneered. “How can she use my family’s money and people and be so carefree about it?”
Young Master Qin laughed heartily.
“Liu-lang, isn’t it natural to be at ease when you’re using the enemy’s money and the enemy’s people?” he said with a grin.
