Chengbo watched his retreating figure disappear, then looked disapprovingly at Zhao Hanzhang. “Sanniang, Fu the Young Master came alone to escort the master’s coffin. You mustn’t bully him.”

Zhao Hanzhang: “…I didn’t bully him, really!”

Chengbo looked entirely unconvinced, but as he was after all a servant, he still went along with Zhao Hanzhang’s words. “I know Sanniang means well, but we also can’t let Fu the Young Master feel wronged. In a moment, you should see him back. I don’t even know if he’s used to our Runan cuisine—we forgot to ask all this time…”

Zhao Hanzhang was nagged by him until she could hardly bear it. She hastily said: “I’ll go ask right now, and I’ll have the kitchen make food to his taste. I’ll even personally escort him to his door.”

She hurried off, afraid he’d grab her and prattle on some more.

Fu Tinghan still felt somewhat uncomfortable facing Zhao Hanzhang, slightly turning his head away to avoid looking at her.

The two sat in silence by the brick kiln. It had now reached the halfway point in firing. Lu Kun had listened carefully and heard no abnormal sounds, so things were going smoothly so far. He urged them to return and rest. “It’s getting dark. It’s not proper for the young mistress and young master to remain here. We’ll watch over the kiln.”

Although Zhao Hanzhang very much wanted to stay and see the progress, she knew the results wouldn’t come until tomorrow afternoon. Her staying here wouldn’t help much and would only make the craftsmen feel constrained. She simply stood up. “Fu the Young Master, shall I see you back?”

Fu Tinghan instinctively said: “No need.”

Then, seeing Zhao Hanzhang still standing there smiling at him, he stood up. “I’d be grateful.”

The two walked back in silence. Zhao Hanzhang kept her word, escorting him to his door. “I keep forgetting to ask—Professor Fu, what flavor of food do you like?”

Fu Tinghan: “Anything is fine with me.”

“You must have some preference though?”

Fu Tinghan thought for a moment, then said: “I like eating noodles.”

“What kind of noodles?” Zhao Hanzhang pressed. “Small noodles, hand-pulled noodles, knife-cut noodles, mixed sauce noodles…”

“Any kind is fine,” Fu Tinghan said helplessly. “It’s not like I can only eat one type of noodle.” Couldn’t he have a different noodle dish each day?

Zhao Hanzhang thought about it and agreed. “Then I’ll have the kitchen make you a bowl of noodles?”

Fu Tinghan didn’t have much appetite at the moment, but seeing her insist, he still nodded.

Wang Shi had been waiting in the main courtyard. Seeing her daughter finally return, she hurried forward. “What’s wrong with you, child? I told you to be a bit more reserved, but not only did you spend the whole day with Fu the Young Master, you stayed out with him this late. Fortunately, everyone on this estate is our own people, otherwise if word of this got out…”

Zhao Hanzhang poured herself a cup of tea and drank it, unconcerned. “Mother, we went to check on the brick kiln. We didn’t do anything.”

“We know that, but outsiders might not,” Wang Shi felt some regret. “If I’d known, we should have listened to your Fifth Grand-Uncle earlier and held your wedding during the mourning period. At least with a formal status, it would be easier to act.”

Zhao Hanzhang said: “If we’d held the wedding, then I couldn’t ask Xiping for things anymore.”

While awaiting marriage in her chambers, she was still a daughter of the Zhao clan.

Once married, she’d be like water thrown out—her surname would have to be preceded by her husband’s surname, making her completely an outsider. If she then had dealings with the Zhao clan, she’d be a relative, not family.

Zhao Hanzhang said: “Things are fine as they are now. Don’t worry about it, Mother.”

Wang Shi hadn’t expected she was still harboring this scheme. She looked at her daughter in shock. “You… you’re so calculating. Does Fu the Young Master know?”

“He knows.”

Wang Shi was shocked again. “And he doesn’t blame you?”

“He respects my decision.”

Wang Shi fell silent. The next day, she had someone stew a pot of chicken soup and send it to Fu Tinghan, telling him to nourish his body well.

Fu Tinghan looked at the pot of chicken on his breakfast table in silence. “Chicken soup in the morning?”

Zhao Hanzhang also looked shocked, glancing at him sympathetically. “It’s all my mother’s goodwill. Have a bowl.”

Zhao Erlang at the side was eager to try. “Brother-in-law, if you don’t like it, I’ll eat it for you.”

Fu Tinghan immediately smiled and pushed the chicken toward Zhao Erlang. “You’re growing, you should eat more. Go ahead.”

Zhao Hanzhang suppressed her laughter. “Professor Fu, you’re also at a stage of physical growth.”

Fu Tinghan pretended not to hear.

The brick kiln had been firing for a day and night. Lu Kun had people pour water over the kiln from above, remove the firewood, and once the kiln cooled, they opened the kiln opening and pulled out a brick to examine.

The brick was blue-green and hard. Everyone rejoiced. “It’s a blue brick! It worked!”

Zhao Hanzhang hadn’t expected their luck to be this good. She looked toward Fu Tinghan with a smile.

Fu Tinghan was cautious though. “Take out all the bricks and look at them.”

Three thousand bricks didn’t mean all the bricks would fire successfully.

Sure enough, when all the bricks were removed, they discovered some hadn’t fired properly. Fu Tinghan counted the number of damaged ones and said to Zhao Hanzhang: “It should be insufficient temperature. The success rate only reached seventy-two percent. I plan to fire another kiln, increasing the heat this time.”

Zhao Hanzhang nodded. “Good. I’ll leave this side to you.”

She called over Chengbo. “Have people build several more brick kilns. Now that we can make bricks, have people start laying foundations to prepare for building houses.”

“But the wheat in the fields…”

“With this many people, we surely can spare some for the summer harvest, right?”

Chengbo said: “I’ll arrange it right away.”

Seeing how much effort this would require of him, Zhao Hanzhang said: “Chengbo, select a few loyal and capable servants to promote. Give them tasks to carry out.”

Zhao Hanzhang thought of the servants lost during the flight and sighed. Those had all been part of her dowry, selected beforehand as stewards. “Spread the word that any servants who got separated on the road, as long as they return, I’ll treat them well. Also put out word that the estate is hiring literate or experienced stewards.”

With over a thousand people, and more to come in the future, they needed management talent. Relying solely on Ji Yuan’s recruitment wouldn’t be enough.

“By the way, has there been any news back from Master Ji?”

“I was just about to tell Sanniang—Master Ji sent someone to deliver grain.”

Zhao Hanzhang immediately went back upon hearing this.

Ji Yuan hadn’t returned himself. He’d sent back ten carts of grain, and the troops escorting the grain were very pleased. “Master Ji bought a lot of grain. This is just the first batch—there are several more batches to be sent.”

Chengbo untied a grain sack to look, lowering his voice to tell Zhao Hanzhang: “It’s all old grain from last year.”

Zhao Hanzhang said: “This year’s grain hasn’t been harvested yet.”

She asked the soldier: “Do you know the price?”

“I overheard a bit—it seemed to be nine coins per bushel.”

“Hmm?” Zhao Hanzhang was puzzled. “How did Master Ji convince them to sell to us at such a low price?”

Compared to the peaceful years before, this grain price was more than three times higher, but compared to the skyrocketing prices of recent years, it was one to four coins cheaper.

Small amounts add up to significant savings. This price was quite cheap.

The soldier said: “Master Ji deceived those people, saying the young mistress wanted to pray for blessings for the master, so she was buying grain to do good deeds.”

Zhao Hanzhang: …What a good excuse, even more cunning than her.