The next day, Qian Jiaoniang rose early. She watered the few vegetable sprouts left in the garden, washed two basins of clothes, then went to the small kitchen in the back courtyard to make some sesame flatbreads and porridge. She shared them with Ah Da and the others, who all said it tasted great. So she kneaded more dough to make extra and handed a few strings of coins to Wang Yong to buy two old ducks—she planned to prepare a special dish that evening.
After eating a flatbread and drinking some porridge herself, Qian Jiaoniang wiped her hands and went to check whether Xing Pingchun was sleeping properly. As she passed through her room, she noticed Qingya standing at Xing Pingchun’s door, lifting the curtain and peeking inside. Qian Jiaoniang walked over curiously, following her line of sight. “Why are you sneaking around like a thief?”
Qingya was startled. She turned back and whispered, “Quick, come look.”
Qian Jiaoniang raised an eyebrow and peered past Qingya’s shoulder. To her surprise, Xing Pingchun was already up. Normally, if he didn’t have school, he would sleep until noon—no wonder Qingya was surprised. Qian Jiaoniang saw him sitting at his desk fiddling with the mechanism box and gave a knowing smile. “He’s like that. If something grabs his interest, he forgets about time.”
Qingya let the curtain drop and walked outside with Qian Jiaoniang. “Seeing how hard he’s working, he might actually figure out how to open that box.”
“Mhm. My Chou’er is smart—he takes after me.” Qian Jiaoniang straightened her back proudly.
Qingya didn’t bother responding and hurried off to do chores.
—
By midday, Qingya had moved the dining table into Xing Muzheng’s room. Qian Jiaoniang was wiping his face and hands.
“Go call Chou’er for lunch,” she said.
Qingya arranged the chopsticks. “That kid hasn’t left his room all morning!” With that, she left—and shortly returned.
Qian Jiaoniang looked behind her but didn’t see Xing Pingchun.
“He said he’s coming,” Qingya reported.
The two sat down at the table. As they gazed at the steamed fish, both broke into smiles and took a deep breath of its fragrant aroma.
Qian Jiaoniang said, “The cook always does this dish well.” She’d had it a few days ago—so good she nearly swallowed her tongue.
Qingya said, “The cooking’s important, but what matters most is the fish. Do you know this type is called golden fish? Just one of them is worth an ounce of gold.”
Qian Jiaoniang’s eyes nearly popped out. “Heavens! I’m eating gold!”
Looking at the fish again, it almost seemed to gleam.
“Exactly—you’re eating gold,” Qingya pointed at the fish’s head. “The most valuable part is the eyes. They say eating them prolongs life.”
Qian Jiaoniang wrinkled her nose. “What’s so good about the eyes? If you like them, you eat them. I prefer the tail.”
Qingya said, “The tail’s the least valuable part. Some people don’t even bother with it.”
Qian Jiaoniang replied, “Honestly, I didn’t like the tail either—too many bones. But Chou’er and my mother both loved eating fish but hated the tails. So I had no choice but to eat them myself. After a while, I got used to it.”
Qingya curled her lip. “You’re so easy to please.”
Qian Jiaoniang said, “My tastes aren’t picky like yours—this you won’t eat, that you won’t eat.”
Qingya shot back, “You call that picky? You haven’t seen me when I am picky.”
Qian Jiaoniang squinted playfully. “And what do you look like when you’re being picky?”
Qingya opened her mouth but suddenly stood up. “Why hasn’t Chou’er come yet? I’ll go call him again.”
Qian Jiaoniang watched her rush out like she was fleeing, then burst into laughter, slapping her thigh. Teasing Qingya was really too fun.
Xing Muzheng, watching Qian Jiaoniang laugh like a cat who’d just stolen a fish, chuckled quietly too. Qian Jiaoniang turned to him with a beaming smile and said, “You found it funny too, didn’t you?”
With the light behind her, Xing Muzheng could still clearly see the star-like sparkle in Jiaoniang’s eyes. When she smiled, it truly felt as if the whole sky had lit up. Xing Muzheng let out a breath of relief—it seemed she hadn’t been upset by Feng Yuyan’s provocations yesterday. He had been overthinking it.
This time, Qingya finally managed to bring Xing Pingchun over, though the boy still held onto the mechanism box, eyes glued to it. Even during the meal, he placed the box beside him, flicked one of the wooden pieces, then used his chopsticks to pick up a bite of rice, stared off in thought, and then set the chopsticks down again before flicking another piece.
Qingya turned her head and silently mouthed to Qian Jiaoniang that he was bewitched. Qian Jiaoniang just smiled and shook her head, signaling her to ignore him.
But Qingya found it amusing and insisted on teasing him. She picked out the most tender piece of fish belly and placed it into Xing Pingchun’s bowl. “Chou’er, you love fish—have some more.”
“Thank you, Sister Qingya.” Xing Pingchun didn’t even lift his head. His eyes fixed on the box, he used his chopsticks to scoop up a clump of rice from the bowl. The fish, however, was knocked out of the bowl. He opened his mouth wide, aiming for the rice—but on the first try, he stuffed it up his nostril. Only the second time did it go into his mouth.
Qingya stifled her laughter and asked, “Does the fish taste good?”
Xing Pingchun nodded vigorously. “Delicious!”
Qingya turned her head and burst into silent laughter, covering her mouth. Qian Jiaoniang laughed as well, picked up the piece of fish that had fallen on the table and ate it, saying to Qingya, “Don’t mind him. When he was six, an old man gave him a nine-ring puzzle. He was exactly like this then. Once he solved it, he was fine.”
“But the nine-ring puzzle is nothing compared to that divine mechanism box.”
“Let him be. I just love seeing him act silly like that.” Qian Jiaoniang pointed at the fish. “Quick, while he’s distracted, let’s eat more. Fish isn’t fresh once it’s reheated. Don’t waste it!”
Qingya shook her head in defeat. “You’re really something—acting like a stepmother!”
Xing Pingchun stayed in this “bewitched” state for the whole day. The next day, even though he was supposed to return to school, he still hadn’t snapped out of it and clung to the box. Qingya urged him several times, but he refused to let go. So Qian Jiaoniang simply sent someone to tell the teacher he was ill and would return once recovered.
“You’re spoiling him too much,” Qingya said.
“It’s not like it’s a bad thing. No harm done,” Qian Jiaoniang said with a smile as she watched Xing Pingchun dash off with the box.
“Chou’er may be smart, but that’s something the marquis used to guard against thieves. He’s still a child—what if he never figures it out and really becomes obsessed?”
Qian Jiaoniang laughed softly, waved her hand, and turned to leave.
For two days straight, Xing Pingchun was like a little zombie. He didn’t wash his face, didn’t brush his teeth, barely ate, and muttered to himself while clutching the mechanism box. When Qingya went to tidy his room, the whole desk was covered in papers filled with strange black lines she couldn’t understand.
On the third morning, Qian Jiaoniang entered Xing Pingchun’s room. The bed was empty, the blankets neatly folded. On the desk sat the opened mechanism box.
