“Still a while yet.” Feng Jiu’er picked up an empty bowl and ladled soup into it for Feng Jiang.

Seeing Qiao Mu watching her too, she asked, “When was your last cycle?”

Qiao Mu counted on her fingers and shook her head. “I don’t remember exactly. Sometime in early October, I think.”

“October fifth,” Feng Jiang answered.

Qiao Mu turned to look at him. “How do you know that?”

Feng Jiang ruffled her hair without answering.

Feng Jiu’er picked up a cloth, wiped the corner of her mouth, set it down slowly, and looked up again.

“By my calculations, it should be around mid-to-late July.”

Feng Jiang held Qiao Mu close and kissed her, then gently let go.

“My wife, you’ve worked hard. Here, have a little soup.”

“I don’t want it!” Qiao Mu ignored the soup Feng Jiang nearly fed straight to her mouth, stood up, and went to sit beside Xiao Yingtao.

“Jiu’er made all of this specially for me — don’t you two finish it. I have to try everything.”

“What do you want, sister? I’ll get it for you,” Xiao Yingtao asked softly.

“I’ll get it myself.” Qiao Mu stretched out her long arm and grabbed a clean pair of chopsticks.

She didn’t quite know what had come over her, but her appetite had suddenly returned, and the more she ate, the hungrier she felt.

The other three watched Qiao Mu eat heartily, their spirits lifted — especially Feng Jiu’er and Xiao Yingtao, who had witnessed her vomiting earlier.

Feng Jiang couldn’t stop smiling the whole time, unable to hide his joy.

After dinner, Jian Yi returned with Yue Qinchun and Shen Rong’er.

Once Shen Rong’er started researching cuisine, she couldn’t tear herself away from it, and Yue Qinchun was now her apprentice.

Though, as for this master-apprentice relationship, the master would eventually have to rely on the apprentice — after all, the apprentice’s family had money to spare.

These past days, the two of them had been moving between various cities, partly to gauge public sentiment, and partly to sample local delicacies.

“Jiu’er, why are you here?” Yue Qinchun asked.

“Jiu’er, you suddenly had Jian Yi bring us back — is there something you need us for?” Shen Rong’er also looked at Feng Jiu’er across from her.

Feng Jiu’er looked at Yue Qinchun and let out a soft laugh.

Yue Qinchun touched her own face. “Jiu’er, what’s wrong? Is there something dirty on my face?”

“Qinchun, you’ve gotten fatter,” Xiao Yingtao said, cutting straight to the point.

Yue Qinchun touched her face again, then her belly, and drooped her head, turning aside.

“Rong’er, didn’t you say I hadn’t gotten fatter? Now I think I have too.”

“You haven’t!” Shen Rong’er shook her head. “Yinan says you haven’t either, right?”

“You two see each other every day — of course you wouldn’t notice,” Xiao Yingtao said, glancing between them.

“Qinchun’s definitely put on some weight. Rong’er hasn’t.”

“Waaah…” Yue Qinchun covered her mouth. “I’m never eating again — but I just can’t help it.”

Something occurred to her, and when she looked up, her expression had brightened again.

“Jiu’er, Xiao Yingtao, Sister Qiao, these past days I’ve eaten so many delicious things.”

“I never imagined the west had so many delicacies — far more than we have in the east.”

“If Jiu’er hadn’t sent Rong’er and me out to travel around, I never would have gotten to try so much good food.”

“So the ingredient-gathering has gone well?” Feng Jiu’er asked.

“Mm.” Shen Rong’er nodded lightly, opened a cloth bag, and took out a book.

“It’s all in here. We recorded one hundred and eight dishes and over eighty kinds of pastries and snacks from Pingyuan City, Xiang City, Yi Cheng, and Liuchuan City.”

“And also…”

“And also lots of soups — sweet ones, salty ones, and spicy ones too,” Yue Qinchun added, finishing Shen Rong’er’s sentence.

“As for matters among the common people, we’ve been reporting regularly to the general stationed in each area.”

The general currently guarding that city was one of the Feilong Shi’er Qi.

Yue Qinchun had no intention of taking credit — she was simply a little excited.

“Mm.” Shen Rong’er smiled and nodded. “Jiu’er, would you like to look it over?”

“Later.” Feng Jiu’er waved a hand. “Right now, there’s something else important.”

“Qiao Mu is pregnant. You two get her meal plan ready for the days ahead.”

“Sister Qiao is pregnant?” Yue Qinchun shot to her feet. “Sister Qiao Mu, are you really pregnant?”

Shen Rong’er stood and cupped her hands toward the two seated at the head of the table. “Congratulations, Mister Jiang. Congratulations, Sister Qiao.”

“Mm.” Qiao Mu returned the gesture to Shen Rong’er.

Feng Jiang, with one arm around Qiao Mu, nodded to those in the hall as well.

“Wonderful!” Yue Qinchun jumped up with joy. “Our family has a child on the way.”

“Rong’er.” She turned to look at Shen Rong’er. “Let’s put together a proper meal plan for Sister Qiao — we can’t disappoint Jiu’er and Mister Jiang.”

“Mm.” Shen Rong’er nodded and sat back down.

“There’s one more thing I need your help with as well,” Feng Jiu’er said with a smile.

She was in a good mood today too.

“Jiu’er, what is it?” Shen Rong’er asked.

“I’d also like to know what it is,” Xiao Yingtao said, looking at Feng Jiu’er and blinking. “Is it what I think it is?”

Feng Jiu’er looked at her and said, “Qiao Mu is with child now. She absolutely can’t remain without a proper name or status.”

“Everyone, think it over — how should we hold this wedding? Where would be the best place for it?”

“Let’s hold it back at the Night Prince’s Estate,” Xiao Yingtao suggested. “Having her marry out from the city lord’s household — what do you all think?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking too, but I’m worried about Qiao Mu being put through too much trouble,” Feng Jiu’er said, pressing her lips together.

She wanted everyone to know that Qiao Mu was family — her family, and Third Brother’s.

Whether or not he was truly an imperial prince, he was still her brother, for life.

Qiao Mu was her sister-in-law — a sister-in-law married into their family through a proper, formal ceremony.

“What trouble? I’m just pregnant, not suffering from some incurable illness… mmph…”

Qiao Mu’s mouth was covered by Feng Jiang’s large hand.

She looked up at the man beside her.

“No more careless talk from now on!” Feng Jiang said sternly.

Qiao Mu blinked and nodded.

She pushed his hand away and muttered, “Fine, I won’t say it.”

“You can say anything else, but not this — absolutely not,” Feng Jiang said, his expression still serious.

“If anything were to happen to you, I wouldn’t want to go on living either.”

Out of nowhere, he blurted out that overly sentimental line.

Qiao Mu smacked him on the head and looked away.

“Who’s talking nonsense?”

Feng Jiang wrapped his arms around her, coaxing gently. “Fine, fine, we won’t talk about it anymore! Let’s talk about happy things instead.”

Qiao Mu ignored him, but she didn’t push him away either.

“Jiu’er, just do as you think best,” Feng Jiang said, looking up at Feng Jiu’er.

“It’s not too far a journey from here back to the Night Prince’s Estate. I’ll take Xiao Qiao back tomorrow, and we’ll hold the wedding the day after.”

“That soon?” Xiao Yingtao was so excited her feet were practically bouncing.

“I’ve already checked — the day after tomorrow is an auspicious day,” Feng Jiu’er said softly.

“Jiu’er, you’ve already picked the date?” Yue Qinchun was excited too.

“The day after tomorrow works well,” Feng Jiu’er said, turning to look at Yue Qinchun. “Tomorrow we’ll head back first and spend most of the day preparing — we should be able to get everything ready in time.”

“Young Master Jiang and Qiao Mu aren’t in any rush — they can take their time on the way. They should still get to the Night Prince’s Estate early enough, shouldn’t they?”