Yao Huang had just finished discussing with Fei Quan the method to make Madam Zhu watch her tongue when A’Ji came over from the west courtyard, carrying “breakfast” that had been kept warm for the princess consort for a long time.

Though Fei Quan slipped away quickly, Yao Huang still blushed. It must have been the chicken-head ginseng from the past two days that had nourished Prince Hui—yesterday afternoon he’d entangled her twice, and at night he actually managed to make it five times total. If not for Madam Zhu’s incessant nagging, Yao Huang probably could have slept until noon.

A’Ji had stuffed cotton balls in her ears last night and slept quite well. Seeing the princess consort’s lack of energy, A’Ji smiled: “My mother went to buy two more black chickens. She just slaughtered one. At noon we’ll make soup for you and Second Master. There’s still plenty of chicken-head ginseng left. Father says the soil of Spirit Mountain is good, so the chicken-head ginseng grown there is even more nourishing.”

Yao Huang: “…You’re calling them more and more intimately.”

A’Ji: “I have to! Every time I go out to wash clothes, lots of people gather around me. If I don’t practice more, I’ll definitely slip up when the time comes.”

Yao Huang: “Then what about your husband?”

A’Ji: “…He went to the Qi family together with your husband.”

The mistress and servant bantered for a while. After the meal, Yao Huang went out with Fei Quan.

Though the Qi family was a wealthy household in town, they didn’t employ servants—probably didn’t have anywhere for servants to live either. Their two-courtyard residence with side rooms was packed full with the family’s sixteen members.

The family’s men waited in the main hall to be painted. Steward Qi’s second wife, Madam Lu, sat in the shadow of the spirit wall. Hearing footsteps at the gate and peeking through the door crack to confirm those two figures were indeed coming to her home, Madam Lu glanced at her husband sitting upright in the main hall, pursed her lips, stood up and walked to the door.

Recognizing the little fox-spirit-like scholar’s wife from the Liao family, Madam Lu’s eyes flickered briefly before she smiled and opened the door: “Little Yao! You’ve come looking for your husband, right? Come in, come in quickly—he’s already started painting!”

Yao Huang hadn’t told the neighbors her full name, only saying her surname was Yao. The older aunties and grandmothers all called her Little Yao.

Yao Huang said somewhat embarrassedly: “I’m intruding. It’s just that my husband has a rather odd temperament—he’s easier to get along with only when I’m by his side, so…”

The main hall faced directly toward the main gate. The princess consort’s ordinary conversational voice carried clearly to Prince Hui’s ears as he painted.

The brush he’d just raised paused in midair for a moment before descending back to the paper.

Madam Lu let Yao Huang and Fei Quan enter, then continued standing guard at the door.

Yao Huang walked around the spirit wall and saw the Qi family’s three generations in the main hall. Prince Hui’s easel was set up outside the hall door, with bright blazing sunlight shining directly on his head.

Yao Huang looked toward Qing Ai on the side and, while Prince Hui concentrated on painting, pointed at the top of his head.

Qing Ai smiled bitterly and shook his head. He’d suggested holding an umbrella for the prince but was refused.

Yao Huang quietly told Fei Quan to go back and fetch an umbrella, then said to Qing Ai: “Elder Brother, go back. Sister-in-law has something she needs your help with.”

Qing Ai suppressed the impulse to bow and left with his head held high and chest out.

There were twelve people total in the main hall—three generations of grandfathers and grandsons. Steward Qi and his three married sons firmly remembered Scholar Liao’s painting rules—they neither spoke nor moved randomly. Among the eight grandchildren, however, the younger ones couldn’t help turning around to curiously examine the beautiful wife from next door.

Seeing Steward Qi wanting to scold the children but holding back from speaking, Yao Huang smiled and waved at the few restless little children, making them turn back around.

Prince Hui’s form didn’t move, his brush didn’t stop.

Yao Huang walked to Prince Hui’s side, just blocking the sunlight for him.

Zhao Sui saw the princess consort’s shadow cast diagonally in front of him, saw the long hairpin inserted in her hair bun. After a brief moment of distraction, he continued painting.

Yao Huang saw Prince Hui’s face slightly reddened from the sun, saw a fine layer of sweat beading on his forehead. On the rice paper, the body outlines of Steward Qi and his three sons were already there, their movements and postures set. The brush was now focused on the eight grandchildren kneeling in four rows.

Steward Qi hoped to have himself and his three sons painted with detailed features, while the grandchildren only needed to show their backs. Prince Hui indeed only painted eight backs of varying heights, but he painted them very carefully, practically transferring the eight children’s profiles and small finger movements onto the paper. For instance, though the two oldest grandsons in the first row both knelt respectfully, the one on the left had his lips pressed together, revealing mature steadiness, while the one on the right had upturned lip corners, showing some joy.

Kneeling in the very back were the Qi family’s only seven-year-old granddaughter and just-three-years-old Seventh Young Master. Under Prince Hui’s brush, Seventh Young Master tilted his head talking to his sister, who also turned her head toward him, her expression somewhat fierce, as if warning her brother to behave.

Fei Quan brought the umbrella. Yao Huang opened it, enveloping both herself and Prince Hui in its shade.

Zhao Sui didn’t make his princess consort work hard for too long. Two quarters of an hour later, he set down his brush and said to Steward Qi: “The children’s portion is finished. This afternoon after the rest, I’ll come paint you, sir, and the three young masters.”

The youngest children cheered and stood up, but were stopped by Steward Qi and their three fathers separately. Then Steward Qi quickly stepped out of the main hall. He’d already assumed a posture of bowing in thanks, but his gaze instinctively drawn to the painting froze his entire body. After standing rigid for a long while, tears rolled from Steward Qi’s eyes as he choked out continued thanks: “Thank you, worthy nephew! Thank you, worthy nephew!”

Beyond this, Steward Qi didn’t know what else he could say. Such a fine painting was already a priceless treasure to him at least. No amount of words of gratitude were sufficient.

Zhao Sui looked toward Fei Quan.

Fei Quan ran over to help Steward Qi up. Zhao Sui added: “I’ll leave the painting materials here. At the fifth quarter of the hour of the Goat, I’ll come again.”

Steward Qi repeatedly said good, then leaving his children and grandchildren behind, personally escorted the scholar who disliked noise and his party out the door. When he returned and saw his sons, daughters-in-law, grandsons and granddaughters all crowded around the easel, muttering with some even preparing to reach out and touch it, Steward Qi gave a stern shout and chased them all away. Out of caution, he even inspected the various brushes and pigments the scholar had brought.

In the east courtyard, Yao Huang pushed the wheelchair into the main hall. Looking at Prince Hui’s sun-reddened face, she said: “If you’re helping, just help. Why paint under the scorching sun? When I asked Second Master to paint for me, I couldn’t bear to make you suffer like this.”

Zhao Sui: “Weren’t you complaining I kept myself too pale?”

Yao Huang glared: “I was just talking casually! Besides, even if you wanted to tan, you should wait for dusk. Who tans at this hour?”

Zhao Sui: “It’s still half an hour until noon. Even if you hadn’t come, I would have stopped my brush.”

Yao Huang dampened a towel and had him wipe his face.

After Prince Hui had refreshed himself, Yao Huang asked: “Yesterday Second Master still hasn’t answered me—why help Steward Qi?”

This was a reclusive prince who lived in a bamboo courtyard, full of deathly air, so aloof he even picked specific days to see his own princess consort!

Zhao Sui looked at her and explained: “My current identity is a commoner scholar. Since I’m a scholar with leisure time, how could I refuse an elderly good neighbor in his sixties who sincerely seeks a painting?”

Yao Huang: “Second Master surely doesn’t think all scholars are gentlemen? Never mind distant examples—just talking about those notorious corrupt officials and evil officials from before, which one wasn’t a presented scholar who passed the examinations? And there are those scholars and provincial graduates who, after reading a few books and gaining some rank, look down on common people with eyes on top of their heads. Though they haven’t committed evil, they’ve accumulated a heap of faults and have nothing to do with upright gentlemen.”

Zhao Sui fell silent.

Yao Huang circled around to behind his wheelchair, bent down to hug his shoulders and praised: “So you see, my Second Master is a true gentleman.”

Zhao Sui: “…Not really. We still have to live here for over a month. It’s not good to gain a reputation for arrogance.”

Yao Huang: “Mm, Second Master is not only a gentleman but also very modest.”

Prince Hui then said no more.

That afternoon, the couple rested separately. When the time came, Prince Hui had to go to the Qi family to paint. Yao Huang followed again, continuing to hold the umbrella for Prince Hui.

At this time, only Steward Qi and his three sons were in the main hall.

Qi Da and Qi Er sat on the left; Qi San sat on the right.

Yao Huang had heard from A’Ji that the already-forty-year-old Qi Da was born to Steward Qi’s first wife, while the just-over-thirty Qi Er and the even younger Qi San were born to his second wife Madam Lu.

Qi Da was honest and simple, a good farmer. Qi Er and Qi San had some business sense and together opened a general store in town. They earned more, making this pair of brothers seem more accomplished than Qi Da.

Steward Qi treated his three sons fairly and without bias, but Qi Da’s eldest son was eighteen this year, studying at Spirit Mountain’s most prestigious academy. He’d already passed the county and prefecture examinations successively. If he could also pass the院试 provincial examination this August, he would become the Qi family’s first scholar, and was therefore highly valued by Steward Qi.

From the cluster of chatting women, Yao Huang had heard more gossip and knew the Qi family was divided into three distinct factions: Qi Da’s family was one faction, Madam Lu with her two sons was another, and Steward Qi was caught in the middle as a faction of one. Qi Da himself was tongue-tied, but he’d married a shrewd and capable wife. It was entirely due to this wife that his family wasn’t oppressed too harshly by Madam Lu and her sons.

Various open and covert conflicts meant that while Steward Qi seemed blessed with thriving children and grandchildren, in reality he didn’t know how much bitterness and helplessness he’d swallowed.

Just regarding this painting—Steward Qi had deliberately arranged for Qi Da and Qi Er to sit on the same side, but today Yao Huang had come twice already and Qi Da and Qi Er hadn’t even made eye contact. These blood brothers treated each other like strangers.

At dusk, the entire painting was completed. Steward Qi gave profuse thanks. Unable to give payment, he earnestly begged the Liao family members to come eat at his birthday banquet on the twenty-ninth. His emotions were genuine—he looked ready to block the road and not let Scholar Liao leave if he didn’t agree.

Yao Huang was about to step forward to deflect Steward Qi’s enthusiasm when Prince Hui, who’d been silent for so long, actually agreed: “Good. We’ll definitely come to offer our congratulations.”

Steward Qi was overjoyed. Yao Huang looked toward Fei Quan, who also wore a shocked expression.

Back in the east courtyard, Yao Huang said doubtfully: “Second Master agreeing to go eat at the Qi family surely has nothing to do with being or not being a gentleman?”

From last year’s Mid-Autumn Festival to this year’s Dragon Boat Festival, Emperor Yongchang had hosted several palace banquets that Prince Hui didn’t attend. Yet with one invitation from Steward Qi, it was settled. Wasn’t Prince Hui worried the news would reach the palace and displease his imperial father?

Zhao Sui: “Reciprocating courtesy. If I go, his heart will be at peace.”

With the gesture of gifting the painting, the “Liao family” couldn’t very well refuse the Qi family again. If he didn’t go, the princess consort would have to stay behind to care for him, listening coldly and quietly to the liveliness next door.

Yao Huang: “Does Second Master know how rowdy common people’s banquets can be? Especially on the men’s side, there are always some drinking troublemakers who like to compete in drinking. When they get drunk, they go offer toasts to everyone whether they know them or not. I’m afraid such people will offend Second Master.”

Zhao Sui: “With Qing Ai, Fei Quan, Zhang Yue and Wang Dong there, such people can’t get near me. I can simply eat some food and leave early.”

Yao Huang imagined that scene—indeed, there was nothing much to worry about.

However, Prince Hui agreeing so readily to Steward Qi’s two matters—did this mean he’d already grown somewhat accustomed to appearing before crowds in a wheelchair?

With progress in the plan, Yao Huang happily went to hug Prince Hui again.

Zhao Sui then knew—the princess consort really did want to go to the banquet.