Chunhua and Hongjuan were two of the ten maids. Qingya had them take shifts in pairs, and today was their turn.
“I’m just going to get something,” Qingya said.
Chunhua quickly offered, “Miss, tell me what you need. I’ll fetch it for you.”
“No need,” Qingya replied. “I’ll get it myself.”
But Chunhua insisted, “Let me get it for you, so you don’t have to go running.”
Seeing her so eager, Qingya smiled and relented, “Alright then. Go to my room—the first drawer on the left—and bring me some Huaizhou paper. Also, grab the inkstone and a small wolf-hair brush from the table.”
Chunhua set down the tea tray. “Got it, I’ll be right back.”
She hurried off, while Qingya returned to sit down. Hongjuan picked out two cups, rinsed them with hot water, and carefully poured freshly brewed tea into them. She handed one to Qian Jiaoniang, then one to Qingya.
Qian Jiaoniang happened to be thirsty and finished her cup in one gulp. Qingya sipped hers and asked, “What do you think of the tea?”
Qian Jiaoniang licked her lips, savoring the taste. “Tea all tastes about the same. But the one you brewed last time did seem more fragrant to me.”
Qingya smiled. “You’ve got a sharp tongue. That time, I used the first snowmelt of the year to brew it—paired with Jin’an tea, which complements snow water best. Of course it tasted better.”
“Ohh, so that’s why you were acting like a lunatic, lining up jars to catch snow.”
“That’s nothing,” Qingya said. “Back then, I was only collecting snow from plum blossoms. I’ve become far less particular now.”
Hongjuan chimed in, “Miss Qingya, it’ll be winter soon. How about next time we go gather snow off red plum blossoms and brew some tea for Madam?”
Qingya tilted her head to glance out the window, resting her delicate arm under her chin. She sighed softly, “Ah, the snow and moon of late autumn and winter—all look the same across a thousand miles. In the shifting winds and changing skies, everything transforms with each glance.”
Qian Jiaoniang gestured for Hongjuan to sit down. “Ugh, you literary types are all the same. Can’t say a normal sentence—have to recite poetry for everything.”
Qingya gave a slight, mocking smile. “I was only saying that the world changes constantly.”
“I don’t like hearing that kind of talk. But that storybook you read to me last time was great—I loved it!”
Qingya’s eyes lit up. “I loved it too. Do you think there are really flower spirits, tree spirits, shrimp soldiers, and crab generals in the world? So interesting! Let’s go out to buy some more books next time.”
“Alright, alright! I’d better hurry up and learn more characters. Listening to you read isn’t satisfying—I want to read for myself.” Qian Jiaoniang had always found studying dull and hadn’t been too invested, thinking it was enough to just learn what she needed for daily life. But after Qingya somehow found an old book called Records of the Strange and got completely absorbed in it, Jiaoniang had her read it aloud—and was instantly hooked.
“Yes, don’t fall behind on learning characters. I’m getting tired of reading out loud—my mouth’s gone dry.”
Just then, Chunhua came in carrying brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, smiling as she placed them in front of Qingya. “Miss Qingya, I’ve brought the things you asked for.”
“Thank you.” Qingya glanced over and frowned. “Hmm? Didn’t I ask you to bring Huaizhou paper? Why did you bring Tong’an paper instead?”
Chunhua was momentarily stunned. “Isn’t all the paper in that drawer the same?”
“How could it be the same? One’s more yellow, one’s whiter—one’s better for writing, the other for drawing. Not the same at all.”
Chunhua said awkwardly, “This maid… doesn’t know the difference…”
“If you didn’t know, you could’ve just asked me earlier.” Qingya gently pushed the paper away with her index finger. “Go get the right one.”
Chunhua quickly took the paper and left. Qian Jiaoniang stood up with the little garment in hand and said, “She was just trying to help. Don’t be too harsh.”
“That was me speaking gently,” Qingya replied.
Qian Jiaoniang smiled and left the room. Before Qingya could respond, Hongjuan had already followed after her.
Before Jiaoniang reached the west wing, Ding Zhang came grinning into the main hall. “Your humble servant greets Madam. Madam, the tenant farmers brought some freshly picked fruit. I had them washed and brought for you to taste.”
Qian Jiaoniang cast him a glance. Lately, she couldn’t stand Ding Zhang—seeing him only reminded her of that shameless man behind him. They were already divorced, yet he still came to make her work. What was this—free labor?
“I don’t want any fruit from your marquis’s estate. I’d be grateful if you could just let me have some peace and quiet—then I’d chant Amitabha in your name.”
But Ding Zhang had long since grown a thick skin, just like his master. Still grinning, he said, “Madam must be joking with this humble one again.”
He signaled to the maid behind him, who brought the fruit tray over and placed it in front of Jiaoniang. They were small, bright green mandarins—plump and glistening, clearly both sweet and sour. Jiaoniang didn’t care much for them herself, but Xing Pingchun liked them, so she didn’t object. “Leave them.”
Hongjuan took the tray.
Ding Zhang immediately tried to capitalize on the moment. “Madam, Farmer Old Zhang heard our estate is hiring long-term workers and brought two men he recommends. If you’re satisfied with them, I’ll have them work in the garden, watering plants.”
Jiaoniang knew it—he never came without some scheme. She gave a cold snort and walked into the west wing. The room was empty—no sign of the dog. The little dog bed she had sewn was empty. Jiaoniang, familiar with its habits, crouched down and peeked under the bed. Sure enough, the one-eyed dog was curled up in the corner, fast asleep.
She set the little garment on the table, moved quietly, and slipped back out.
When she returned to the hall, Ding Zhang was still standing there with a silly grin. Jiaoniang snapped, “Where are they?”
Ding Zhang quickly replied, “Waiting outside the courtyard. I’ll bring them in now.”
He rushed out and brought in two men. Both had dark skin—clearly men used to hard labor. Jiaoniang had been toying with a green mandarin in her hand, but when she turned and saw them, she froze slightly.
The one standing beside Ding Zhang—wasn’t that Wang Tieniu?
“Madam, these two are Wang Dali and Zhong Shu. Old Zhang recommended them—they were formerly tenant farmers on our estate and now wish to work here.” As he spoke, Ding Zhang gestured, and the two men immediately knelt.
“Greetings, Madam.”
Wang Tieniu, now calling himself Wang Dali, pretended not to know Jiaoniang and bowed to her.
After being beaten by Xing Muzheng on his wedding night, Wang Tieniu had been bedridden for over half a month before he could get up. When Qingya had visited, he’d been out seeing a doctor, carried there by his brothers. His mother only told him that the girl had come by—nothing about her running off. The more he lay in bed and thought, the angrier he got—angry at Xing Muzheng for bullying him and worried that Jiaoniang had been abducted and mistreated.
He couldn’t understand it—there was an imperial edict, after all. How could Xing Muzheng still do as he pleased? Was he planning a rebellion?
Wang Tieniu was always a stubborn one—otherwise, he wouldn’t have waited all these years to marry Jiaoniang. The emperor himself had decreed their marriage—wasn’t that like gold falling from the sky? People said General Xing was now a rising star, too good for a little village girl, and they pitied him for marrying someone used. But Wang Tieniu felt like all his dreams had come true—he even laughed in his sleep.
And then Xing Muzheng came and stole the bride. To Wang Tieniu, it was like someone had dug up his ancestors’ graves. He wanted to confront Xing Muzheng, to take Jiaoniang back—but how could a commoner break into a grand estate like this? So he racked his brains and came up with this plan to sneak in.
Jiaoniang didn’t show any emotion, simply told them to rise.
Ding Zhang asked, “Madam, do these two seem suitable?”
Jiaoniang tapped the mandarin with her finger. Wang Tieniu peeked up at her, their eyes meeting briefly—he seemed to be signaling something. Jiaoniang said, “They’ll do. Let them stay.”
“Yes, Madam.” Ding Zhang turned to the two men and had them thank her, then led them out.
Back inside, Chunhua had just brought the correct paper. Qingya was spreading it out when Jiaoniang entered. She motioned for Chunhua and Hongjuan to leave, and Qingya rolled up her sleeves. Seeing Jiaoniang’s strange expression, she asked, “What’s with the mystery?”
Jiaoniang told her about Wang Tieniu sneaking into the marquis’s estate. Qingya was stunned. “What’s he doing here?”
Jiaoniang shook her head. She really didn’t know. “Find a chance to ask him.”
The next day, Qingya went to talk to Wang Tieniu—but returned with only one answer: “He won’t tell me. He insists on speaking with you alone.”
Nowadays, there were always people around Qian Jiaoniang. Even taking a simple walk, she was watched from all sides. Just a few days ago, when she insisted on leaving the marquis’s estate, Wang Yong had assigned her a full squad of guards to follow her—saying it was “for her safety.” Qian Jiaoniang was so angry she turned right back around and didn’t go. With so many people trailing her through the streets, she’d look like some monkey performing in public.
She wasn’t afraid of Xing Muzheng, but the threat he had whispered in her ear still echoed clearly in her mind. This was Yuzhou—his territory. With his ruthless nature, killing someone like Wang Tieniu with one strike was definitely something he could do.
So, a few days later, Qian Jiaoniang used the excuse of chrysanthemums blooming in the garden and went with Qingya to admire the flowers. She ordered all unrelated staff to withdraw. Wang Tieniu was hiding behind a rockery, and only when Qian Jiaoniang approached and called him did he step out. Qingya looked at Qian Jiaoniang, and when she nodded, Qingya quietly went off to stand guard nearby.
“Jiaoniang,” Wang Tieniu called out, his voice catching in his throat.
Qian Jiaoniang spoke apologetically, “Brother Tieniu, I’m sorry. Are your injuries better now?” She remembered clearly that Xing Muzheng had knocked him unconscious.
“I’m fine! It’s my fault for not being able to protect you.” Wang Tieniu hated his own uselessness. “Are you… doing okay?” The steward had brought him in, saying he was to meet the Madam. He had assumed Xing Muzheng must have already remarried. Who would have thought that the Madam was still Jiaoniang? What on earth was going on?
“I’m doing well,” Qian Jiaoniang said with a soft smile. “Brother Tieniu, what brings you to the marquis’s estate?”
“I, I…” Wang Tieniu hesitated, then suddenly reached out and grasped both her hands. “I came to take you away!”
Qian Jiaoniang gave a small gasp. Her hands were wrapped in his large, callused palms, the heat from them almost burning her skin. “T-Take me away?”
“Yes! I’ll take you away! Let’s leave this marquis’s estate far behind, go somewhere Marquis Xing can’t find us. We—we’ll elope!”
“Elope?” Qian Jiaoniang was dazed, as if transported back ten years. Wang Tieniu had worn the same indignant expression then, asking her to run away with him. After so many years, there was still fire in his eyes.
“Jiaoniang, I should’ve been resolute and taken you away back then. Then you wouldn’t have ended up being abandoned. I was useless—I couldn’t beat the Marquis. But I promise you now, I’ll treat you well, I’ll never humiliate you like he did!” Wang Tieniu spoke loudly and firmly.
Qian Jiaoniang’s heart thumped wildly. She knew Wang Tieniu was speaking from the heart. She also knew that while she no longer loved him, she could have a stable life with him. But… “Brother Tieniu, forget about me.”
The moment he heard that, Wang Tieniu gripped her hands even tighter. “Jiaoniang! Don’t you believe me? I really will treat you well! Don’t fall again for the Marquis’s sweet words. If he truly cared about you, why would the emperor’s decree declare your dismissal from the household? You’re supposed to be my wife now—not his! He keeps you in his estate just to toy with you. You have no title, no status—one day he’ll marry a new wife, bring in new concubines, and your life will be even harder!”
Wang Tieniu’s words were rough, but each one hit the mark. Qian Jiaoniang swallowed the bitterness like downing a mouthful of yellow lotus. After a long moment, she sighed deeply. “Brother Tieniu, you’re right… but the Marquis wields tremendous power here in Yuzhou. How do you expect to take me away?”
Wang Tieniu saw her tone soften, and his eyes lit up. His voice trembled with excitement. “I—I’ve thought it through. I’ll find a way to bribe the gatekeepers. When I’m ready, I’ll have your maid send you a message. Then, late at night, you can quietly slip out. I’ll wait for you in the grove behind the marquis’s estate. We’ll hide there for the night, and at daybreak when the city gates open, I’ll take you away!”
Qian Jiaoniang slowly nodded. “Alright, Brother Tieniu. I’ll wait for your word.”
Seeing her agree, Wang Tieniu grinned and clutched her hands tightly. “Jiaoniang, just wait for my good news!”
Qian Jiaoniang looked at his honest and joyful smile and smiled faintly in return.
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