With Xing Muzheng dumping the whole matter on her like a shopkeeper who shakes off responsibility, Qian Jiaoniang was busy the entire morning. The list in Ding Zhang’s hand was three palms thick—so many relatives of the imperial family and high nobility: this marquis, that earl, this minister, that grandee—it made her eyes swim just to look at it.
These should have been prepared before the New Year, with a few additions or subtractions, and sent out at the start of the year. But this year, Qian Jiaoniang was now the mistress of Dingxi Marquis’s household, and Xing Muzheng deliberately wanted her involved, so he had Ding Zhang destroy last year’s records, leaving only a mental list to guide her from time to time. Who would have thought Di Qingya had already anticipated this—among the New Year’s gifts Hang Zhi sent today was a letter from Qingya herself, instructing Qian Jiaoniang on how to send return gifts. Qian Jiaoniang could infer much from little; for her, it was indeed not difficult. But with so many people to handle, it still took effort—and even when Xing Pingchun asked her to help build a snowman, she couldn’t join.
After hastily eating a late lunch, Qian Jiaoniang snatched a brief rest. A reply came from the Old Marchioness Yiyong’s residence—she was at home and would be waiting for them. Qian Jiaoniang quickly changed into the new dress Xing Muzheng had bought her, put on a gold coronet, and, taking Xing Pingchun, boarded the carriage. Hong Tai had been caring for Xing Pingchun in Yongan for days, and the boy had even gained some weight. Both in sentiment and in propriety, Qian Jiaoniang had to pay the old lady a New Year’s call. But Xing Muzheng had still not returned—likely having such a fine conversation with Master Liu that he had been kept for a meal on the very first day of the year. Qian Jiaoniang thought of how leisurely he was while she herself, with her sore and aching body, was kept endlessly busy, and she felt her teeth itch.
Marchioness Dowager of Yiyong was an exceedingly kind and amiable old lady, delighted to see Qian Jiaoniang and Xing Pingchun arrive. Just as Xing Muzheng had said, she adored children; the moment she saw Xing Pingchun she was overjoyed, even sitting up from her sickbed to pull him into her arms, calling him “my dear heart” over and over. Upon hearing that Xing Pingchun resembled Xing Muzheng, the old lady was even happier, ordering gold necklaces and bracelets for the child, bright and yellow, which she personally put on him. She kept touching and stroking him, unwilling to let go—closer to him than to her own great-grandchildren.
The eldest and second daughters-in-law were both in attendance, and they also gave the boy gold trinkets shaped like monkeys and fish, things children loved. Naturally, Qian Jiaoniang had also brought gifts for the younger generation of the Hong family—those present and those absent, legitimate and concubine-born—each received one.
The eldest daughter-in-law, laughing, revealed the old lady’s fondness—she especially loved hearing stories of military victories. Hong Tai and the others would vividly describe how Xing Muzheng led charges into battle and deployed formations, and the old lady would eat an extra bowl of rice just from hearing it. Whenever news of victory arrived, before even asking about her grandsons, her first question was always whether Xing Muzheng was safe.
Qian Jiaoniang said a few words of polite praise on Xing Muzheng’s behalf, which made the old lady beam with joy. When they departed, she loaded Qian Jiaoniang with an armful of fine gifts.
After Qian Jiaoniang left, the Marchioness Dowager told her daughters-in-law, “From now on, you must never neglect Dingxi Marchioness—treat her as you would a consort in the palace.”
The eldest daughter-in-law asked, “Why does the old lady say this?”
The Marchioness Dowager said, “I hear that this Dingxi Marchioness is the principal wife, originally a farmer’s daughter. I also heard that the Marquis once brought home a Miss Feng to be his equal wife, but now there’s no news of her—word is she’s dead—and this principal wife has instead brought her son here alone. And did you see the gold coronet on her head? It’s finer than anything in our household! She’s so young—if the Marquis hadn’t allowed it, how could she flaunt it so? This shows that either she has exceptional skill, or she’s won the Marquis’s true heart—or both. Yet when I looked at her just now, her brows and eyes were gentle, all her sharpness concealed, and her son is considerate and filial. She must be an extraordinary woman. Have the daughters- and granddaughters-in-law in our family show her full respect whenever they meet her.”
The daughters-in-law all nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, when Qian Jiaoniang returned to the residence, Xing Muzheng still hadn’t had his fill and wasn’t back yet. Not until the sun was sinking in the west did he stride into the room, full of satisfaction. In his hands he carried a scroll of painting, which he carefully set aside as though it were a treasure—it was painted specially for him today by Master Liu himself. Xing Muzheng boasted that he would enjoy it together with her tomorrow.
Lying in bed with aching bones, not wanting to move, Qian Jiaoniang watched him in silence, too tired even to bother responding to his easy, carefree air.
The dinner on the first night of the New Year was naturally still a feast of delicacies. Everyone gathered in the front hall to eat and drink heartily. Xing Pingchun animatedly told stories about his time at the Yiyong Marquis’s residence, also showing off the golden treasures he had received. Granny Zhou’s eyes went wide—such a wealthy family giving the child New Year gifts all made of gold was truly shocking.
After showing everything off, Xing Pingchun handed all the gifts to Qian Jiaoniang. She put the golden necklace back on Xing Pingchun’s neck and added a ruyi lock on it. The rest were given to Hongjuan to pack away. Xing Pingchun played with the gifts for a while before remembering something important.
“Dad, I heard tomorrow morning at the temple there will be a lion dance. Shall we go see the excitement?”
Qian Jiaoniang took a sip of hot soup and said coolly, “Your father is very busy, but I will take you.” Xing Muzheng looked at Qian Jiaoniang. “Who said I’m very busy?” Qian Jiaoniang smiled slightly, “Didn’t the Marquis say that himself?”
Xing Muzheng spoke seriously, “I said I am busy today, but not tomorrow. I can take you all to have some fun then.”
Xing Pingchun cheered loudly. Qian Jiaoniang glanced at the shameless man who was nonchalantly eating large bites of meat.
After the lively New Year meal, Xing Pingchun ran off to play with fireworks and firecrackers. Qian Jiaoniang sent Granny Zhou back, then returned to her room, leaned on her sore waist, and lay down on the bed, instantly feeling like she was in a fairyland. Just as she was drifting off, a pair of large hands pressed on her shoulders, gently kneading.
Qian Jiaoniang turned her head and half-opened her eyes; in the dim light was Xing Muzheng’s figure.
“Tired?” Xing Muzheng asked softly as he massaged her shoulders.
His touch was comfortable, and Qian Jiaoniang gave a low reply.
Xing Muzheng didn’t say much, kindly massaging her shoulders and back. Maybe because he had learned martial arts, he pressed just the right spots, making Qian Jiaoniang nearly moan from comfort, though she held back hard.
“Comfortable?” Xing Muzheng’s hands moved to her waist as he leaned in with a smile.
Qian Jiaoniang honestly nodded. Most of her fatigue was gone, and her eyes were clearer. “The Marquis truly has many extraordinary skills.”
What extraordinary skills? Xing Muzheng smirked, staring into her clear eyes, his own dimmed slightly. “Last night…” Comfortable? Last night, Xing Muzheng had applied what he had learned from books with great effort and keen insight. He especially wanted Qian Jiaoniang’s praise for this, but out of face, he hesitated. The moment she heard “last night,” her expression changed. She lowered her eyes and turned her head as if she hadn’t seen it, but Xing Muzheng leaned over, kissed her lips gently, and softly sucked. Slowly, it became unstoppable.
Qian Jiaoniang was shocked—this man had just been with her yesterday and this morning, and now again tonight? It turned out the shoulder massage was like a weasel giving a New Year’s greeting to a chicken—no good intentions at all! She had foolishly thanked him! Annoyed at her own foolishness, she pushed him silently with both hands in protest. But the already aroused Xing Muzheng didn’t notice her slight resistance, thinking she was just shy, and covered her with his strong body.
