In truth, Lingbo’s desire to help Fu Yunrui manage the kitchen had nothing to do with rekindling any romantic threads — it was purely because she could see that both Madam Wei and Fu Yunrui were not skilled at running a household. Though Yangling City was a tight-knit community, it was ultimately a frontier town, and its food and provisions were plain and simple. To suddenly be tasked with preparing banquets fit for the capital would surely prove a struggle. And among all the great families of the capital, no one managed a household better than Qinglan.
Qinglan had actually been reluctant to overstep, but to her surprise, Fu Yunrui agreed readily. She pulled Qinglan to the rear courtyard and said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you today, Elder Sister. I’ve just returned to the capital and everything is in disarray — I don’t even know where to begin. I was just fretting over it, and now that Elder Sister is here, I can set my mind at ease.”
She was, after all, born into a distinguished family, and had a steward’s wife among her dowry attendants. She produced a half-drafted menu and handed it to Qinglan to look over. For Qinglan, planning a banquet was easier than drinking water. She glanced it over and smiled. “Did you plan this using the gifts others sent you?”
Fu Yunrui laughed with a hint of embarrassment. “We truly had no time to prepare. These past few days have been consumed by receiving guests and expressing our gratitude for imperial favor. Even the refreshments for visitors have been made from gifts the Zhang Family sent, which we then served to guests from the Li Family. We did send people to buy from the markets, but what came back was coarse and unpalatable — not fit to set before guests.”
Qinglan only smiled mildly and said nothing further. Though she was considered a model among young ladies of distinguished families, she was not the sort to lecture others. She had no clear picture of what Fu Yunrui had lived through during four years on the frontier, and naturally would not hold her diminished housekeeping skills against her.
So she simply picked up a brush and began to write, showing her as she went.
“Gifts in the capital tend to be things like wind-dried chickens and preserved ducks, or dried meat and mutton strips. Using one or two of those dishes in a meal is acceptable enough, but if the entire spread relies on them, it will expose the lack of proper preparation.”
“But we arrived in the capital late and have had no time to buy provisions. The servants don’t know the markets, and a purchasing agent still needs to be found. Furniture and clothing are the pressing matters — food has simply fallen by the wayside. These past few days, the Madam has been ordering full banquet spreads from outside caterers when receiving guests. Today, I’ve been bold and overreached — thinking to host you all properly, having someone bring in an outside spread would be too improper…” Fu Yunrui explained with an apologetic smile.
As she spoke, Qinglan had already written two pages. When Fu Yunrui finished, she passed them over for her to read.
“The great families of the capital all serve produce from their own estates when hosting guests. Only a small portion is purchased, so only the finest and freshest is selected. You and Madam Wei have no estates, so you’ll need to plan differently. The great families may have finished buying, but the New Year markets for the common people of the capital are only just opening. This first sheet lists several reliable places to buy: the beef and mutton at Li Family Lane, the mountain goods at Peace Lane, and a few fruit vendors in the south of the city — all excellent. As for pastry shops, they’ve been unreliable these past two years because two consecutive years of war in the north have driven up the price of dried fruits, so the shops have been cutting corners. Households of standing mostly prepare their own ingredients and hire a master to come and make pastries at home. I’ll recommend two masters to you. Give them the list and let them do the buying themselves — pastry masters know how to select the best ingredients, and even if they pocket a little commission, you may as well consider it a tip and not call them out on it. For pastries, make these ten varieties. There’s a name for it — ‘Ten-Pattern Brocade.’ It is ideal for receiving guests during the New Year season, and you need not panic even if a large formal banquet is called for.”
She also gave Fu Yunrui a final sheet and said, “Fresh vegetables and fruit are truly impossible to buy — every household grows them on their own estates and exchanges them with one another. You’ve just returned to the capital after four years; to immediately ask old friends for vegetables upon seeing them for the first time would be too embarrassing. This is the produce from my estate and Yueqi’s. The persimmons and fragrant white pears from Yueqi’s family estate are superb. The Shen Family has the greatest variety of vegetables, and their tofu is absolutely exceptional — the Old Madam and Madam Shen are both lifelong vegetarians, you see. My family’s paddies specialize in crimson rice and green japonica — best for porridge. What a pity that this year my aunt is gone, and we’ll never again taste the honey pomelo and sand crabapple from the Meng Family.”
By the time she had finished speaking, not only was Fu Yunrui left speechless, but even the attendant Madam Fu beside her was wide-eyed and stunned. The two cooks had their mouths hanging open and couldn’t close them.
“Goodness gracious,” one of the cooks exclaimed in admiration. “This young lady has the face of a Bodhisattva — how can she be this capable as well? No wonder they say the capital breeds extraordinary people. I’ve lived forty years and never seen such a heavenly figure. I’ve truly opened my eyes today.”
The cook was clearly from the frontier and didn’t know much about proper decorum. Fortunately, Qinglan was warm-natured and took no offense. She only smiled and said, “It’s nothing more than what any young lady of the capital knows.”
“It most certainly is not.” Fu Yunrui quickly protested. “Look at me — I know none of it. Everyone used to say, Elder Sister, that you were the crown of the Flower Announcement Banquet — a state minister’s wife by nature, carrying an entire ledger in your head without ever looking flustered. How could any of us match that? Even back then, Sister Han and Sister Lu couldn’t surpass Qinglan Elder Sister’s ability.”
She admired Qinglan wholeheartedly and had not noticed the bitter irony of her own words against Qinglan’s current circumstances — the crown of the Flower Announcement Banquet, yet still unmarried, still being called “Elder Sister” by this woman who was already a general’s wife with a daughter of her own.
Qinglan did not mind her bringing up the Flower Announcement Banquet. She continued to smile faintly, still busy revising the menu, and said, “You flatter me too much. Yueqi and Lu Wenyin are no less capable than I am at managing a household — you simply haven’t seen them at it.”
Lingbo had sent Qinglan to help Fu Yunrui while she quietly plotted something else. Though it was the Wei Family’s first visit to the capital, she had her sources of information. She sent people to make inquiries, and soon had what she needed. Strolling past as if taking a walk, she arrived at the stables and, sure enough, spotted Pei Zhao’s thin horse.
“Good, go stand watch outside,” she instructed the young manservant Liu Ji, then headed in with Xiao Liu’er to confirm it was the right horse. She hadn’t even gotten close when a voice called out “Hey” — a grown man’s voice — startling both her and Xiao Liu’er.
A figure stepped out from the side of the path. It was Pei Zhao — he had concealed himself so perfectly there had been not a sound. Lingbo was badly frightened, her heart hammering. Once she recovered, she turned on him with a furious glare.
Xiao Liu’er, quick-witted as ever, snapped back to her senses almost immediately and went straight to scolding.
“How dare you!” Any personal maid who attended a young lady of a distinguished family had to carry herself with a certain imperious edge — it was all in service of maintaining the young lady’s dignity. So she turned on Pei Zhao and scolded him: “Our young lady is an honored guest of Marshal Wei! Who do you think you are, daring to intrude on her like this? Are you tired of living?”
Pei Zhao was naturally suited to the role of a dashing rake — he could bend without breaking, and even when he retreated slightly, he managed not to look the least bit embarrassed. His pair of peach-blossom eyes curved into a smile so dazzling that even Xiao Liu’er had to look away.
“I beg pardon, young lady. I came to tend to my horse and didn’t expect to startle the young lady.” He spoke respectful words, yet his face remained wreathed in smiles, unhurried and calm. “I’ll withdraw immediately and leave the stable for the young lady’s use.”
“You—!” Xiao Liu’er flushed with indignation, yet couldn’t think of a single thing to say back. And indeed, Lingbo’s position was indefensible — a well-bred young lady had gone wandering into someone else’s stable. She could claim an interest in horses, but it would be rather awkward to reprimand anyone from that position.
So Lingbo spared Xiao Liu’er the trouble and simply said, “Stand back.”
Xiao Liu’er hesitated, but Lingbo was never one to say a thing twice — she had no choice but to step behind her.
Lingbo showed none of the shyness a typical sheltered young lady might display before a man she didn’t know. She calmly studied Pei Zhao. He was still wearing a plain blue robe — there were people in this world who simply suited blue, and while books spoke of the careless romantic in a worn blue gown, Pei Zhao wore blue with a rakish elegance all his own. He carried not a single piece of gold or jade on his person — very likely because he’d gambled it all away — yet he still radiated a natural refinement, for that face of his was simply too beautiful. She found herself genuinely curious what he might look like in a state of total ruin.
The helplessness those girls at the Flower Announcement Banquet felt when they looked at A’Cuo — Lingbo now understood a little of it herself.
She studied Pei Zhao; Pei Zhao studied her. Lingbo knew perfectly well that she was nothing like the beauty coveted by young men of distinguished families, and even less so before someone like Pei Zhao, who was himself a genuine beauty. She was, therefore, entirely at her ease.
What she wanted Pei Zhao to do already exceeded the bounds of what a young lady of her station ought to ask for — crossing a line was only a matter of time. Besides, this was the safest possible moment: Liu Ji stood guard outside, Xiao Liu’er stood witness inside, and Pei Zhao was a down-and-out gambling addict. Even if he dared to slander her, she needed only mention his gambling debts and he’d be beaten half to death as a libertine before he could say another word.
So she addressed him with unhurried hauteur: “Is General Pei reduced to tending his own horse? I thought General Pei’s horses subsisted on nothing but wind and dew.”
Pei Zhao laughed at once.
When someone beautiful smiles, they can only become more beautiful — like a gilded temple statue catching candlelight, brilliant and dazzling.
“So the young lady’s money was meant to feed my horse,” he said with a smile, drawing a brocade pouch from inside his robe. “In that case, allow me to return it intact.”
That caught Lingbo off guard. But she recovered quickly.
“General Pei won at gambling again?” she asked, her perception sharp.
A gambler naturally wins and loses — when he loses, he climbs trees to hide from creditors; when he wins, he swaggers about with his head held high. That was ordinary enough.
Pei Zhao only smiled and countered, “Does the young lady wish to invest?”
“You’re dreaming.” Xiao Liu’er seized on the opening to reassert herself and immediately shot back: “How many profitable and established ventures have sought my young lady’s investment and been turned away! She’s going to invest with a gambler, in gambling?”
Pei Zhao heard her out and, rather than take offense, smiled with unmistakable meaning. “Oh? The young lady is that formidable?”
Xiao Liu’er instinctively glanced at Lingbo. After all, she was only a fifteen-year-old girl — how much had she truly seen of the world? Pei Zhao’s words carried a great undercurrent of danger, and she felt it immediately. Her first instinct was naturally to look to Lingbo.
Lingbo had weathered far more than that — she wasn’t afraid. What danger could Pei Zhao pose to her? She was not some pampered rich girl from a storybook who, upon catching sight of a penniless border soldier with the looks of Pan An, threw all caution to the wind — gambler, drunkard, it didn’t matter — and fell so completely in love that her parents were left with no recourse but to send her off with a lavish dowry.
So she remained entirely unmoved and said coolly, “I am not formidable in the least. The Flower Announcement Banquet is full of young ladies of talent and beauty alike…”
She left the sentence half-finished. Seeing Pei Zhao’s expression shift to one of dawning comprehension, she raised her chin with deliberate arrogance.
“Rest assured — I am not paying you to go ruin some other family’s daughter. I am not Lu Wenyin; I have no interest in such base schemes.” She told him with that same proud bearing, “I simply felt that a general who has rendered service to the nation should not have to flee debt collectors, and could not bear to see it. So I thought to offer a modest contribution…”
“Since the young lady is so generously inclined, showing such regard for a man of ability,” Pei Zhao replied with a smile, “how could Pei Zhao fail to reciprocate? I am entirely at the young lady’s disposal.”
Lingbo was faintly surprised, though she quickly concealed it.
He was a clever man, as it turned out.
Being clever made things easier — much of what she had planned to say needn’t be spelled out, and the surface between them could remain pleasanter for it. From his tone, he didn’t entirely sound like someone from common stock. At the very least, this skill for speaking in layers — saying one thing and meaning another — was no lesser than that of born sons of noble houses.
He called Lingbo magnanimous and respectful of talent, when in fact she had treated him with deliberate haughtiness. He said he was at her disposal, and yet had not actually agreed to be dispatched — he was telling Lingbo that he understood her intentions.
With things spoken this plainly, Lingbo saw no point in circling further.
“You are too courteous, General—”
“Junior General,” Pei Zhao said with a smile, correcting her.
A’Cuo had asked how to manage people’s hearts and make them like her, and Lingbo had been unable to teach her. In truth, A’Cuo ought to come and learn from this very moment. Pei Zhao was evidently someone who knew how to play with the human heart. The provocative remark, the correction — he delivered them smiling, at the pleasantest possible moment, like small thorns hidden beneath a cluster of blossoms, pricking you lightly. By the time you looked at him carefully, he was smiling still, and you began to wonder if you’d imagined it — and then that single look left you dazzled by his face regardless.
Beauty alone, without the audacity of that little prick, would make only a wooden doll of a beauty. How far to push the audacity was itself something that required careful thought and study — the grace of such bearing cannot be captured in a painting, and A’Cuo still had much to learn.
But Lingbo was immune to all this. She followed his lead coolly, amending herself: “Junior General is too courteous. But our acquaintance is too shallow as yet — how could I trouble the Junior General…”
“Then when might our acquaintance be considered ‘deeper’?” Pei Zhao asked with a smile.
That was rather more forward than was proper. Lingbo’s expression went cold immediately.
“I see that Junior General has been enjoying quite a lucky streak at the gaming tables of late,” she said, her voice cool. “Let us revisit this when Junior General is in need of funds. As for this money — consider it a gift for hay. As they say, even thin grass well-fed can put meat on a horse’s bones. Your horse, Junior General, is truly pitifully lean. Do see to its care.”
She was always swift and decisive. The moment her expression hardened, Xiao Liu’er understood at once — she stepped forward and placed herself between Lingbo and Pei Zhao, her voice equally cool: “Junior General, please step aside. Our young lady is leaving!”
Liu Ji came hurrying over as well, bringing a young maidservant with him, and the little entourage closed around Lingbo in a protective cluster, sweeping her forward. A short distance away, Xiao Liu’er glanced back and saw that Pei Zhao had indeed returned to the stable to tend to his horse — as though the whole unexpected encounter meant nothing to him whatsoever. Altogether an admirably carefree disposition.
“Young lady, from the look of him, he does seem rather willing to cooperate with us. Shouldn’t we agree to it now…” Xiao Liu’er ventured, a little hesitantly.
“We’ll make use of him — but it won’t be a partnership.” Lingbo’s expression didn’t change. “A man that leisurely won’t do as I say. When he needs money again, it will not be too late to find me then.”
“But the Lu sisters bully us every day…”
Xiao Liu’er had only begun when Lingbo cut her off.
“Liu Ji — keep someone on him, and find out exactly where he gambles. It would be best if you could get some evidence — IOUs or the like.” She paused. “We’re in the inner courtyard now. You needn’t follow us in.”
“Yes.” Liu Ji acknowledged and departed.
Only then did Lingbo turn back to instruct Xiao Liu’er.
“The more urgent things seem, the more composed we must be. What does it matter what the Lu sisters do — we have plenty of time ahead. Go find A’Cuo and bring her back. I see that the Meng Family has been getting a little restless these days — they may well be about to raise the matter of the dowry again. Bring her before Madam Wei to make a good impression. There are so many young generals in the Northern Garrison Army — we can find a name to put off the Meng Family.”