Yang Jingyuan left the military camp citing illness. Returning to the Yang family, he once again became the idle concubine-born son of the household. After experiencing recent upheavals, Madam Yang had become less concerned with property matters. Yang Jingshan efficiently sorted out the properties their father had intended to leave to Yang Jingyuan and had someone deliver the account books and contracts to Mingyue Residence.
“Now the Third Young Master has something to do,” Ji Yingying teased, patting the wooden box full of account books. “So you won’t be anxious from boredom.”
The three-year mourning period for the Yang family patriarch had not yet ended. Ji Yingying also had to observe mourning for her brother and sister-in-law. Though they married during the mourning period, the idea of consummating their marriage at this time felt like crossing an emotional barrier neither could easily overcome.
After their separation and reunion, Yang Jingyuan wished he could tie Ji Yingying to his waistband, unwilling to be parted from her for even a moment. Though she was right before his eyes, he still couldn’t have her. How could he not be anxious?
Even Xiangyou, serving nearby, could see that the Third Young Master had something on his mind. He thoughtfully asked Yang Jingyuan if he was restless from leaving the military camp.
“It’s not about leaving the camp… this feeling is like being hungry for three to five days, and the cook says he’s stewing braised pork. You sit at the table waiting and waiting until your stomach is touching your back, asking the kitchen several times, but always being told the meat isn’t ready yet. Still have to wait.” Yang Jingyuan drew on the ground with his sword in boredom, sighing repeatedly.
Xiangyou seemed to half-understand, suddenly feeling his stomach growl: “Third Young Master, when you were young, you used to take me to sneak food from the kitchen. Satisfying a craving is better than waiting on an empty stomach.”
Sneak a taste? I want to sneak a taste, but you dare think about it? Yang Jingyuan glared at him, sheathing his sword irritably: “That’s enough practice for today. Let’s go back for breakfast.”
Walking in the early morning sun, Yang Jingyuan returned to Mingyue Residence with Xiangyou.
Breakfast was prepared in each courtyard’s small kitchen. After he took a bath and got ready, the table was already set with lily and lotus seed porridge and mung bean porridge, a plate of flower rolls, meat buns, and three dishes of cold appetizers.
Ji Yingying wore a cyan wide-sleeved robe with a white high-waisted long skirt, looking like a water lily. As she set out the bowls and chopsticks, her sleeves slid to her elbows, revealing tender white arms.
“How nice it would be to have some braised pork,” Yang Jingyuan muttered softly, dazzled by that flash of pale skin.
Ji Yingying sat down after ladling him a bowl of lily porridge, somewhat confused: “You’re not keeping to a vegetarian diet anymore?”
Back on Mount Qingcheng, Yang Jingyuan had told her he wouldn’t eat meat during the three-year mourning period.
Caught off guard by Ji Yingying, before he could think of an explanation, Ji Yingying thought he’d spoken and been teased by the First Madam and his two brothers. She looked at him tenderly and said softly: “How about I secretly let you eat some?”
Hearing “secretly eat,” Yang Jingyuan’s face instantly turned red, his heart pounding like drums, feeling as if Ji Yingying had seen through his thoughts. Both embarrassed and ashamed, he raised his bowl to hide his face, quickly finished his porridge, and stood up: “I’ll go practice more sword work.”
“Ah, practice tomorrow instead. You haven’t looked at the account books and deeds your eldest brother sent yet.” Ji Yingying quickly called him back.
The managers and estate heads outside were still waiting to pay respects to their new master. Several boxes of account books hadn’t even been opened. After Yang Jingyuan reviewed them, he still needed to transfer and seal them with Yang Jingshan. There was no time for him to practice sword work all day.
Mentioning the properties from his father, Yang Jingyuan’s embarrassment dissipated. He sat down again, urging Ji Yingying to eat: “After we finish, I have something to discuss with you.”
After the meal, the couple sat alone in the study. Yang Jingyuan said: “Yingying, I don’t plan to take back these properties.”
He was somewhat anxious. Without these properties, he would be penniless. Ji Yingying would have to suffer hardship with him.
“You want to separate from the family?” Ji Yingying saw through Yang Jingyuan’s thoughts.
Yang Jingyuan explained: “A large tree must split its branches. I’m a concubine’s son; I should naturally separate and live independently. My birth mother left me no dowry. Father shouldn’t have had private property; all his wealth belongs to the Yang family. I should be content with that estate at the foot of Mount Qingcheng.” He paused, then added, “Don’t worry, I can always provide for you.”
“Alright.” Ji Yingying thought that although past grievances with the First Madam were resolved, the rules in the Yang family mansion remained. The young couple moving out to manage their household would be more comfortable.
Hearing her straightforward agreement, Yang Jingyuan hesitated again, pulling her to sit on his knee, saying seriously: “You won’t regret it? Perhaps in the future, I’ll only be able to farm those few acres at the estate, unable to afford silk clothes for you.”
Ji Yingying smiled brightly, hooking her arms around his neck: “Who says farming is the only way to earn silver? Once we separate from the family, there will be ways.”
True, he had learned some business practices from the old steward, which he couldn’t apply in the Yang family. After separation, he could manage his own business. Yang Jingyuan smiled, holding her hand, looking at her rosy cheeks, thinking again of “sneaking a taste.” His thoughts wandering, he kissed her: “Half a year until the mourning period ends. After that, we’ll…”
Ji Yingying hurriedly said: “We must complete the one-year mourning period for Mother before we can consummate the marriage.”
“I meant after Father’s mourning period ends, we’ll separate from the family.” Sure enough, meeting Ji Yingying’s embarrassed glare, Yang Jingyuan became increasingly serious: “What are you thinking about?”
I’m thinking about it. Have you no shame? Ji Yingying looked down at the hand on her chest, angrily slapped it away, twisted it out of his lap, and ran out the door: “Yang Jingyuan, where are you putting your hand?!”
She had disappeared, leaving Yang Jingyuan staring at his palm in a daze, muttering after a long while: “Braised pork stewed until tender must feel about like this.”
First Madam Yang cried several times over the family separation, but each time Yang Jingyuan consoled her until she smiled through her tears. Yang Jingyuan insisted and finally accepted only the estate at the foot of Mount Qingcheng. After the ceremony marked the end of mourning for the Yang patriarch, he took Ji Yingying and left the Yang family.
When Ji Yingying first married into the family, she brought Nanny Ji’s family as attendants and two maids. The two maids were lost in Nanzhao, their fate unknown; Nanny Ji died by Chi Kuang’s blade, and Ji Fu returned to Sandaoyan. With just the two of them, Yang Jingyuan and Ji Yingying had Xiangyou drive a simple carriage as they left the Yang family.
The Ji family had no masters left except Ji Yingying. The couple first returned to Sandaoyan. They left Nanny Li and Ji Gui’s family at the Ji family’s old residence. Taking the old servants from the household, they packed their belongings and went to the estate at the foot of Mount Qingcheng.
Ji Yingying had her skills; she never intended to give up the Ji family’s Huanhua Dyehouse. She purchased new dye vats for the back courtyard of the estate. Yang Jingyuan’s strength finally found good use.
The dyed silk threads and fabrics were sent to the old shop, and the Huanhua Dyehouse reopened.
The newly appointed military governor Li Deyu “trained soldiers, repaired fortifications, stored grain for border defense, and the Shu people found some peace.”
Half a year passed in the blink of an eye, and the mourning period for the Ji family was also complete.
Nanny Wu counted the days, sighing that the young couple hadn’t had it easy, and called Nanny Tian to help prepare the bridal chamber.
Yang Jingyuan had waited anxiously for this day to arrive. Since Ji Yingying had already paid respects to the ancestral tablets of the Yang family, they had already performed the ceremony. Yang Jingyuan didn’t want to disturb the Yang family members, only inviting his master down from the mountain to change clothes and perform the heaven and earth bowing ceremony with Ji Yingying again.
With few people in the household, the old Daoist didn’t stand on ceremony. Yang Jingyuan’s wedding chamber had no one forcing him to drink, yet he was intoxicated, and with no relatives disturbing their wedding night, he was quite pleased.
After lifting the bridal veil with the weighing pole and drinking the ceremonial wine, he watched the three elderly nannies lead the newly-bought little maid away with smiles. Yang Jingyuan no longer pretended to be reserved, shouting: “My wife, I’ve missed you so much!” He pounced toward Ji Yingying.
Ji Yingying was caught in his embrace, unable to help her panic: “The bed is full of peanuts and walnuts…”
Yang Jingyuan was agile; as they fell, he turned in mid-air while holding her, making himself the cushion as they landed heavily on the bed.
Several soft sounds of peanut shells cracking came from beneath him, and a few round walnuts, unfortunately, pressed against his spine, making him hiss in pain, yet he insisted on pretending nothing was wrong: “Wasn’t my reaction quick?”
Hearing the tremor in his voice, Ji Yingying lay on his chest laughing as she tried to pry his hands loose: “Get up, let me clean up the bed before we sleep.”
Yang Jingyuan hated the walnuts digging into his bones, but sat up still holding her: “I’ll do it. You go freshen up first.”
Ji Yingying went to the washing room with a smile. When she returned, Yang Jingyuan had gathered a package of scattered items and was searching the bed for stragglers, muttering to himself: “Peanuts, dates, walnuts… we’ll name our daughter Peanut, one son Date, and another son Walnut. Here’s another one, need another son…”
She walked up gracefully and hugged him from behind, her face pressed against his back as she said softly: “How about giving them the Ji surname?”
“Why should my sons have the Ji surname?” Yang Jingyuan instinctively objected.
When he turned around, Ji Yingying’s face was full of tears, frightening him into confusion: “Why are you crying?”
“The Ji family has no heir. I want to have a son to be adopted by my brother, alright?” Ji Yingying asked him with tear-filled eyes.
He had forgotten the Ji family had no male descendants. Yang Jingyuan was stunned, filled with guilt. It wasn’t that he was unwilling to let a son take another surname; he just hadn’t reacted quickly enough. While he was still in this daze, Ji Yingying suddenly wiped her tears with her sleeve, showing the boldness of a young Shu lady: “If you agree, fine. If not, no peanuts, no dates, no walnuts!”
Threatening him? Would it work? Yang Jingyuan’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he smiled, undoing his belt and removing his clothes, lying casually on the bed and beckoning to Ji Yingying: “Everything is negotiable. Your husband doesn’t mind adopting a son to the Ji family. But whether my wife can bear children, that I don’t know.”
Ji Yingying bit her lip, fidgeting with the corner of her clothes for a long while, exchanging glances with Yang Jingyuan in a battle of wits, finally made up her mind and climbed onto the bed with her head held high: “Then let’s try.”