Not long after Yan Qing returned to Tiaolan Court, Di Huai arrived.

Tiaolan Court was not a large estate, and space was limited, so both Di Huai and Jin Shan had been housed in the servants’ quarters.

Di Huai ordinarily worked for Yan Qing at the pharmacy and returned when he was needed. The advantage of moving back and forth between the pharmacy and the Shi Mansion was that he dealt with ordinary people in everyday settings, which meant whatever needed doing, he could handle it with ease.

Yan Qing gave Di Huai a few instructions and handed him a small packet of medicinal powder. Di Huai took it and tucked it into his pocket. “Miss, rest assured. I will see it done.”

Yan Qing smiled. “Tell Steward Sun and Steward Lin to come by tomorrow. I have matters to discuss with them.”

—

Beside Tiaolan Court’s man-made lake stood a four-cornered wooden pavilion. From its eaves hung cascades of graceful spider plants in full bloom. Seated in the pavilion’s chairs, one could look straight down over the railing at the murmuring water below. The scenery may not have rivaled the gardens beyond, but within this small courtyard it was an exceptionally quiet and pleasant retreat.

Yan Qing sat in the pavilion, sipping tea and going through account books, until Jing Zhi announced that the two stewards had arrived.

Steward Sun and Steward Lin were both veterans of the Yan family’s pharmacy business — they had served the Yan family for five or six years. When Master Yan transferred the ten pharmacies to Yan Qing, they had come along with them.

Both men greeted Yan Qing with a bow and then stood to one side, respectful and attentive.

Yan Qing gestured to the chairs before her. “Please, sit.”

Only then did Steward Sun and Steward Lin take their seats.

In the past, this young woman had been the most favored Sixth Miss of the Yan family — they had shown her respect for Master Yan’s sake. Now she was the Seventh Young Mistress of the Shi Family and their direct superior. That respect could no longer be called into question.

After Jing Zhi poured tea for everyone and took her place properly beside Yan Qing, Yan Qing spoke.

“Steward Sun, Steward Lin — I’ve asked you here today because I wish to discuss something with you both.” She passed several sheets of paper across to them. “The ten pharmacies my father gave me formerly operated under the Yan family’s unified management. Now that ownership has changed, the matter of how they are to be run must be reconsidered from the ground up.”

Both men nodded. “Since the pharmacies now belong to the Seventh Young Mistress, they are no longer connected to the Yan family’s operations. A thorough review and reorganization would indeed be appropriate.”

Yan Qing smiled. “My plans are set out on those pages. I intend to develop one of the pharmacies into a headquarters — the headquarters will hold absolute authority over all branch locations, and its head steward will answer directly to me. You are both among the most capable of all the stewards, which is why I’ve invited you here today to assess whether this plan is workable.”

“I think it is excellent.” Steward Sun clapped his hands together in approval. “A group cannot function without a leader. Establishing a headquarters is essential.”

“The Seventh Young Mistress is right — only with unified management can the whole enterprise move forward together.” Steward Lin was quick to second the sentiment.

“Since you are both in agreement, which pharmacy do you feel would be most suitable as the headquarters?”

Both Steward Sun and Steward Lin wanted to nominate their own stores, but that would seem far too eager. They exchanged glances and neither could settle on an answer.

Yan Qing sipped her tea and gave the two men an understated glance.

“Since neither of you can name a suitable candidate, allow me to make a suggestion.”

“Please, Seventh Young Mistress.”

Yan Qing set down her teacup. “We will set a period of three months. Whichever pharmacy produces the highest revenue in those three months will become the headquarters. What do you think?”

Steward Sun and Steward Lin looked at each other, then rose together. “We defer entirely to the Seventh Young Mistress.”

“Then I’ll leave it to you both to pass the word along.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

As Steward Sun and Steward Lin departed, both men carried themselves with a new energy. The look they exchanged held the unmistakable spark of a rivalry that neither intended to lose.

“Miss, which of them do you think is better suited for the position?” Jing Zhi asked curiously.

Yan Qing slowly turned the teacup in her hands. “It’s too soon to say — but where there’s a prize worth having, bold men will come forward. I trust that in three months, at least one of them will give me a pleasant surprise.”

The ten pharmacies were the foundation Master Yan had given her to stand on. Whatever her current standing and status, she was a woman from the modern world — she knew what it meant to be without money. Her desire to build up her savings was also tied to Shi Ting. His future ambitions would inevitably require considerable funds, and her income, though only a drop in the ocean compared to what he would need, might prove useful at a critical moment.

There was not much she could do for him. But doing even one meaningful thing was worth more than doing nothing at all.

That evening, when Shi Ting came home, Yan Qing shared her plans with him.

He had always given her room to manage her own affairs without interfering. Hearing how carefully she had thought it all through, he simply reached out and tweaked her nose. “So my wife is going into business now. Does that mean she’s given up on her work for her husband’s Military Police Division?”

Hearing the faint note of grievance in his voice, Yan Qing curled her hand around his arm and rubbed it affectionately. “The pharmacies are only a secondary pursuit.”

That said, she had not touched a scalpel since they were married. It was not that the Military Police Division had no need of her — it was that Shi Ting, worried that her handling of corpses would invite criticism from the household, had kept her from working cases directly during these early days of their marriage. At most, when E’Yuan ran into difficulties, he would come to consult her.

Thinking of the long-missed scalpel, Yan Qing felt an itch in her hands, and a certain thoughtful look settled over her face as her gaze drifted toward him.

He could read her thoughts from her expression alone. Shi Ting couldn’t help a quiet laugh. “Please don’t look at me like that, wife. You’re making me nervous.”

Yan Qing picked up a small silver spoon and dragged it lightly across his handsome face, her voice carrying a playful air of menace. “Let me see — such a fine-looking face. Where should I begin? Here, perhaps? Or here?”

“What about here?” He drew her small hand downward.

Yan Qing: “Are you out of your mind? You don’t need that anymore?”

“Isn’t my wife using her hands?” Somewhere along the way, the spoon had fallen to the floor, replaced by the firm texture of his physique.

He turned his palm over, pressing her hand in place, and at the same time leaned forward and covered her lips with his.

By the time Yan Qing realized she had somehow ended up pressed against the head of the bed, she was already vexed with herself. This game really was no fun at all.

“Director Shi, you’ve worked a full day. Aren’t you tired?” Yan Qing tried pushing against his arm and found it as immovable as steel — utterly impossible for her to shift.

“Whether I’m tired or not — doesn’t my wife know best?” He blinked at her, his eyes full of meaning that only she could read.

Yan Qing couldn’t help but press her lips together. “How would I know?”

“Now you know.” He pressed low against her ear and let out a soft laugh, his warm lips brushing against her small earlobe. “As long as my wife is satisfied, I suppose I’ll endure the extra exertion.”

“No more.” Yan Qing pleaded for mercy. This man’s stamina was genuinely frightening — since their wedding night, they had barely gone a single day without their evening exercise, and she was only now realizing just how relentless he could be.

But Yan Qing’s pleas had no practical effect whatsoever. He answered her foolish question — *are you tired?* — with actions rather than words.

The next morning, Yan Qing woke with aching muscles. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the man sleeping beside her.

These days, he had been so busy that when she woke in the morning he was usually already gone.

Yan Qing did not disturb him. She lay quietly, breathing softly, letting her gaze trace over him at leisure.

After she had looked at him for a full ten minutes, Yan Qing suddenly remembered: why was Shi Ting still home today?

Today was the last day of the month — the Shi Family’s day of reunion. According to long-established Shi Family tradition, the final day of each month was spent together over a family meal.

This custom, said to have been passed down from the ancestors, required all the Shi Family’s descendants to attend the reunion banquet unless occupied by pressing matters.

“Has my wife looked her fill?” The man’s long arm reached out and drew her into his embrace, and a morning kiss landed on her forehead.

“Ow, ow, ow.” The movement made Yan Qing cry out involuntarily.

Shi Ting opened his eyes, looking concerned. “Where does it hurt?”

Yan Qing shot him a look. “What do you think?”

Shi Ting laughed softly. He moved his large hand from her back and began pressing carefully at the area. “Let me work out the soreness.”

After Shi Ting pressed and kneaded for a while, the aching stiffness in Yan Qing’s back finally began to ease.

“Are you attending the reunion banquet?” Yan Qing sat up. “Director Shi took only three days off for his own wedding.”

“Is my wife dissatisfied with me?” Shi Ting pressed the newly risen figure back down against the bed. His deep eyes held a glimmer of warm mischief. “Has your husband failed to satisfy you?”

Yan Qing’s face went pink. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Shi Xingzhi.” Yan Qing tilted her chin up and pressed her teeth lightly against his lip. A sharp intake of breath sounded from him.

Yan Qing was startled and quickly released him. “Did I — did I hurt you?”

“No.” He smiled and pointed to his lip. “Look.”

Yan Qing carefully touched it with her fingertip. “It really doesn’t hurt?”

“It doesn’t.”

Just as Yan Qing was about to say something, a knock came at the outer door. “Seventh Young Master, Seventh Young Mistress — breakfast is ready.”

At the sound of that voice, Shi Ting’s brow creased ever so slightly, his expression filling with unconcealed distaste.

Yan Qing saw it, reached up and smoothed the furrow from his brow with her fingers. She said softly, “Very soon, you won’t have to hear that voice anymore.”

Shi Ting bent down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “What has my wife arranged?”

“A show — free of charge.” Yan Qing broke into a grin, a spark of clever mischief flickering in her bright eyes. “If it isn’t worth watching, you won’t have to pay.”