“Where does this Miss Zhao live? How old is she? What does her family do? Is she engaged to anyone yet?” Qian Jiaoniang pressed.
Qingya looked at her suspiciously. “Why are you asking all this?”
Qian Jiaoniang glanced at Dingxi Marquis, then at the three guards following behind, and said with a smirk, “This cooked duck is about to fly away,” she flicked her handkerchief outward, “Shouldn’t I go find another duck to make up for it?”
This sly woman! Xing Muzheng was exasperated and amused.
Qingya blinked, then suddenly understood. She burst into laughter, nearly doubling over. “Oh Jiaoniang, you’re… hahaha, you’re too funny!”
The three guards had no idea what Qingya was laughing about. Ah Da looked confused. “Madam, a cooked duck can’t fly—unless it’s grown a spirit!”
Qian Jiaoniang raised an eyebrow. “If I say it can fly, it can fly!”
Wang Yong didn’t care whether ducks could fly. He chuckled, “If Madam says it can fly, it can fly. Madam, just mentioning ducks makes my mouth water.”
“You’re hopeless! Fine—go get your silver, buy a duck, pluck it, and cook it for the brothers!”
“Thank you, Madam!” the three guards said in unison.
The group had just returned to the courtyard when a gentle drizzle began to fall outside, then gradually turned into a torrential downpour.
“Someone should go pick up Chou’er soon, it’s raining so hard,” Qingya said as she moved the window prop aside and shut the window tight.
The room was a bit dim. Jiaoniang considered whether to light a candle and replied offhandedly, “He’s a big boy now. It’s just a bit of rain—no need to fetch him like he’s some young master from a noble household.”
“He is the young master of a noble household! In all of Yuzhou—no, in all of Great Xie—you’d be hard-pressed to find a household grander than his.” Qingya turned around and planted her hands on her hips. Could this woman really not remember that her son was the legitimate eldest son of Dingxi Marquis, a rank so high he stood on par with imperial princes and dukes?
“And another thing, when are you going to get Chou’er a study companion? The way he comes and goes all alone, he looks like some wild child. If he’s being bullied at the academy, we wouldn’t even know!”
Qian Jiaoniang let out a dismissive laugh and went to the corner to take out a fire striker and light a candle. She also grabbed the mechanism box from the cabinet. “Someone bullying him? It’d be a miracle if he’s not the one bullying others. Don’t be fooled by how skinny he looks—he’s got strength.” Though she didn’t like to admit it, in many ways, Xing Pingchun really did take after his father.
“I honestly suspect—”
“Aah—!” Dingxi Marquis, who had been quietly sitting there, suddenly stood up with a loud yell and began furiously hitting his own head.
Qian Jiaoniang immediately blew out the candle and hugged the mechanism box tightly. She calmly told Qingya to grab the account books. Ah Da and the others rushed in at once and escorted the two women out.
The Marquis had gone into another frenzy, kicking and thrashing in the pouring rain. Worried he’d fall ill from getting soaked, Jiaoniang quickly grabbed an umbrella and told Ah Da and the others to shield him from the rain, while also sending Qingya to prepare hot water. Thankfully, the episode didn’t last long. Ah Da and the others, dripping wet, helped the thoroughly drenched Marquis back into the house. His lips were bluish, and he was shivering non-stop. Jiaoniang quickly had him take a hot bath, dressed him in dry robes, and Qingya brewed some ginger tea. Jiaoniang coaxed him to drink it, and only then did some color return to his face.
Jiaoniang gently dried Xing Muzheng’s wet hair and told the three guards, “You all should go change into dry clothes too—don’t catch a chill.”
Just as the chaos had settled like after a battle, someone began banging loudly on the gate again. Jiaoniang wanted to open it, but her hands were still busy. Qingya grabbed an umbrella, donned a bamboo hat and straw sandals, and went to open the door. It was a young maid with twin buns in her hair. She whispered a few words to Qingya, then hurried away. Qingya turned to go back, glanced once more at the two guards still standing tall in the rain at the gate, and waved them in to take shelter.
Back in the house, her clothes were damp anyway, so she changed and brought out more ginger tea from the kitchen. Ah Da was telling the two gate guards to change into dry clothes. Qingya poured a hot bowl of tea for Ah Da and the other two guards, as well as the two gatekeepers. Then she carried two more bowls into Xing Muzheng’s room.
Jiaoniang was still carefully drying the Marquis’s long black hair. Qingya placed one bowl of ginger tea on the table and sipped from the other slowly.
“What took so long? Who was knocking?” Jiaoniang asked.
“It was Qiao’er, a little kitchen maid,” Qingya replied, pausing after burning her tongue a bit. “She said Feng Yuyan suddenly had a stomachache and sent for Xu Momo.” Xu Momo was the midwife and physician who tended to the women of the household.
Jiaoniang’s hands paused briefly but quickly resumed. “Let her do as she pleases.”
Qingya spread open the account book, not overly concerned. That woman wouldn’t be able to stir up trouble much longer.
Jiaoniang picked up a fresh dry cloth and draped it over Xing Muzheng’s head again, glancing at Qingya. “But how would a little kitchen maid know what’s happening in her courtyard?”
“Maybe someone from her courtyard told her.”
“And how would she know to come tell you?”
Qingya raised an eyebrow and smirked, “She wasn’t telling me—she was clearly telling you.” It only worked to curry favor with the lady in charge.
Jiaoniang stared at Qingya for a long moment before saying, “That’s enough. Don’t get too involved in the affairs of this estate.” After all, it wasn’t really their concern. She just wanted Xing Muzheng to get well soon.
“If you don’t go looking for trouble, trouble will come find you anyway,” Qingya replied lazily. “Besides, you’ve got a son who’s the heir—you have to be involved.”
“I only wish for Chou’er to grow up safe and sound. I don’t care if he becomes rich or powerful.”
“Lack of ambition.”
Jiaoniang stuck out her tongue at her.
Xing Muzheng didn’t like hearing Jiaoniang talk like that—as if she were just an outsider in the Marquis estate.
After drying his hair, Jiaoniang helped him sit in a rocking chair and gave it a gentle push, like lulling a baby to sleep. Qingya offered her the ginger tea, but she found it too hot and didn’t want it. Instead, she took out the mechanism box and started fiddling with it again.
But this box was truly too intricate. Jiaoniang played with it for a long time without figuring anything out. She handed it to Qingya, who waved it away. “I can’t do these things—I can’t even solve a nine-ring puzzle.”
Jiaoniang was frustrated. She glanced at the Marquis sleeping in the rocking chair, thought about waking him to try it, but feared he might get irritated and smash it—and then they’d all be doomed.
“Why are you so fixated on that mechanism box? Do you think the Marquis’s madness is related to what’s inside?” Qingya asked, tapping her abacus.
“I don’t know what’s in it… I just feel like it might hold a clue…”
“Mom, Dad, Sister Qingya—I’m back!” Xing Pingchun suddenly burst through the door, full of energy.
Jiaoniang and Qingya looked up—and oh heavens, what a drowned rat!
