Qian Jiaoniang had thought they would just find a small courtyard in Zhangzhou to quietly spend the New Year. But Xing Muzheng had actually bought a sizable estate. Ding Zhang led the homeless servants, along with Li Qing’s whole family and Peng Shi and the others, all coming from Yuzhou to decorate the place festively to welcome them.
Ding Zhang had even prepared a plaque, and right then asked Xing Muzheng to take up the brush and write the characters “Xing Residence” to be hung over the main gate. Xing Pingchun, happy that Li Ding had also come, eagerly dragged him off to explore the new grounds.
For a long moment, Qian Jiaoniang could not collect herself. Looking at those familiar smiling faces, she could almost believe she was back in Yuzhou.
But in such a short time, Xing Muzheng had managed to purchase an estate and have everything prepared? So his earlier rush—what was it for? And surely he could not have known from the start that she would run away? If he had known… then he wouldn’t be a man, but a demon!
“My lord, why did you buy an estate in Zhangzhou?”
Qian finally could not help but ask.
Xing Muzheng replied evenly:
“There are always changes along the road. I was merely preparing for the unexpected.”
That kind of confidence only comes with deep pockets. Qian Jiaoniang asked again, “The other day you asked me—should we spend the New Year in Minghu or here in Zhangzhou? If I’d said Minghu, would you have gone?” Wasn’t he just teasing her?
“If you wanted to go, of course we’d go,” Xing Muzheng said. Rare for her to be in such high spirits—would he really go against her wishes?
“Really?”
“Really.”
Qian Jiaoniang stared at him for a moment, then gave a light hum, murmured something under her breath, and turned to help Granny Zhou and Zhou Cuilian, who were standing frozen in shock at seeing so many people. Xing Muzheng heard her clearly, though—she’d said she didn’t believe him. Xing Muzheng’s lips curved. If she didn’t believe it, that was fine. One day, he’d make sure she did.
With the master back, the garden immediately began burning Tianxiang incense. This incense had to be kept burning continuously from the twenty-ninth until the first day of the New Year.
After half a day of bustle, word spread, and local officials of all ranks in Zhangzhou came to call, learning that Dingxi Marquis would be spending the New Year here. Every one of them offered warm invitations, but Xing Muzheng refused them all, leaving only a few New Year paintings to be hung. Qian Jiaoniang discussed with him that, since everyone would be spending the holiday at the Xing residence, they should prepare a new set of clothes for each person. Xing Muzheng agreed, adding, “From now on, you can decide such matters yourself. No need to ask me.”
Qian Jiaoniang smiled. “Still, I should ask the Marquis—you are the head of the household, after all.”
Xing Muzheng imitated her earlier soft hum and said nothing.
In a blink, New Year’s Eve arrived. Ding Zhang and his people were up before dawn to get busy. Although they had arrived days earlier, there were still many things that could only be done today. Fortunately, the Marquis’s name carried weight—outside the gates, people lined up to deliver New Year’s goods: freshly slaughtered pigs, just-picked vegetables, steaming hot mantou… Ding Zhang consulted the master, and Xing Muzheng told him to accept them all, sending back some return gifts in thanks. Xing Pingchun, seeing the wild boar being carried in, swallowed hard. “Pig—pig! Such a big pig!”
Qian Jiaoniang was in the side room teaching Yanluo and the others to cut window flowers when Xing Pingchun burst in, throwing himself into her arms. “Mother, Mother, let’s make dumplings!”
The scissors in Qian Jiaoniang’s hand nearly slipped; she quickly steadied them. “Careful! You’ll poke your eye!”
The child, greedy for food, paid no mind to his eyes. “Mother, I just saw Uncle Shunzi carry a huge pig into the kitchen! We’ll have meat tonight!” Xing Pingchun stretched his arms wide to show just how big.
“Really? That’s wonderful!” Qian Jiaoniang grinned.
Everyone laughed.
Xing Pingchun shook her arm. “Mother, Mother, make dumplings! I want dumplings!”
Suier said with a smile, “Don’t be impatient, Chou’er. It’s New Year’s Eve—of course there’ll be dumplings.”
“But I want Mother’s dumplings! Sister Sui, you don’t know—Mother’s dumplings are the best!”
Qian Jiaoniang laughed and called him a flatterer. She snipped the last cut, unfolded the paper to reveal a proud, spirited rooster. Everyone praised it, but Xing Pingchun, having seen many, wasn’t impressed; he just kept shaking her arm, demanding dumplings. Unable to refuse, Qian Jiaoniang glanced at the others’ handiwork. “All right, you keep cutting. I’ll go see if there’s dough ready in the kitchen and mix a filling.”
The maids all stood, saying it was cold, the kitchen was dirty, and they’d be glad to go for her. Qian Jiaoniang laughed. “You make it sound like I’m some delicate lady—am I not familiar with the kitchen?”
As she spoke, she set down her things, picked up a hand warmer, and was about to leave when Hongjuan hurried to drape a cloak over her shoulders.
“Jiaoniang.” Xing Muzheng’s voice came from outside, just as he stepped in. The curtain behind him swayed.
The standing maids quickly curtsied, but his gaze was fixed only on Qian Jiaoniang. Seeing her wrapped in a cloak, he asked, “Where are you going?”
“To the kitchen,” she answered honestly.
Xing Muzheng frowned. “What for?”
“Chou’er wants dumplings. I’m going to make a filling.”
A thought stirred in Xing Muzheng—he wanted to eat her dumplings, too. But the kitchen was freezing, without even a brazier, and reeked of blood. “No need. Someone else can make them.”
Xing Pingchun pouted, not understanding. Qian Jiaoniang, not wanting to disappoint her son, said, “It’s fine—I’ve nothing else to do.”
Suier, ever perceptive, said, “Madam, why don’t I bring all the ingredients here, and we can make them in this warm room? It’s too cramped if we all go to the kitchen.”
“That’ll work,” Xing Muzheng agreed before Qian Jiaoniang could reply. “Go get them. You—come with me.”
And with that, Xing Muzheng pulled Qian Jiaoniang away. She, like the maids behind, was baffled. “Where is the Marquis taking me?”
“Just come.”
