Old Madam Yun leisurely strolled through her family’s greenhouse, followed by four granddaughters of various ages.
Her grandson had opened up the partitions in the entire northern building, turning it into one large room. The front and back walls had been hollowed out and connected to chimneys, creating what her grandson called “heated walls.” Although it was still quite cold outside, the room was as warm as spring.
The spring scenery wasn’t just from the warm walls—there was also a room full of green vegetables: verdant spinach with its green luster, pale yellow tender leeks, blackish-green rapeseed, and even several beds of cucumbers blooming with small yellow flowers. Yiniang was using a brush to dab at the stamens here and there. Her grandson had said that every flower needed to be touched, or else cucumbers wouldn’t grow—who knew what the reasoning behind that was.
Rows of wooden boxes had been drilled with small holes by the carpenter, covered with old hemp cloth that had been boiled in water, then topped with half a foot of composted soil. Boiled soybean water was placed beside the stove to warm for several days until it emitted a foul odor, and her grandson used this water to irrigate the vegetables every few days. These vegetables grew even better than those planted by farmers.
Old Madam was gazing with satisfaction at the cucumbers in the low vats, fantasizing about how in a few days they would produce fresh, tender cucumbers.
Old Madam didn’t allow those clumsy young girls to touch the chili peppers—it had been so difficult to grow just over a dozen plants. Her grandson had said that if these chili seedlings died, he would go jump in the river. She couldn’t let her grandson jump in the river—if he did, what point would there be for this old woman to keep living?
The flowers were white and scentless. Some of the faster-growing ones had already produced small green pods. According to her grandson, these things had been brought back by sea merchants from tens of thousands of miles away across the ocean—if they died, they’d be gone forever.
The purple eggplants were also growing well. Their large leaves were nearly covering the flower pots, and small fruits had formed on several branches, with the top flowers not yet fallen.
The south-facing wall was filled with windows—if not for the house being supported by pillars, it would have collapsed long ago. With many windows came abundant sunlight. At noon when the sunlight was most intense, they had to open the windows to let the green vegetables see the light, then close them again when the sun was about to set and the cold air rose.
These tasks were Yiniang’s and Runniang’s responsibility. Ye’er had said this was part of their dowry. Whether they married into wealthy families or ordinary households, having this skill meant they wouldn’t be bullied and could live happily for their entire lives.
Yiniang wore a gold hairpin that swayed with each step—she was a grown maiden who had reached the hairpin ceremony, nearly fourteen years old now. Some days ago, Madam Cheng had served as matchmaker, arranging her marriage to a distant relative of the Pei family. The young man was fifteen years old, with thick eyebrows and large eyes—nothing to criticize. He was a well-mannered and well-educated young man who would blush from just an extra glance, not at all like her grandson’s carefree manner. The young man’s father served as county magistrate in a county in Jiannan. Although the position was minor, it was still a scholarly family.
When they asked Yiniang about it, she was too shy to speak. Her grandson said he would drive that boy out and break his legs, but Yiniang held onto him desperately, making the in-law’s mother, Madam Cheng, laugh until she could barely breathe.
The engagement was settled, but her grandson wouldn’t allow them to marry immediately. He told the in-law’s mother that it wasn’t the Yun family putting on airs—it was because both children’s bodies hadn’t fully matured yet, and marrying too early would do more harm than good and might even affect their offspring. Other families marrying off children at thirteen or fourteen had their heads caught in doors. These small people with undeveloped bones and unstable vital essence were like crops not yet ready—harvest them too early, and could you expect a good yield? The Tang legal code stipulated men at eighteen and women at sixteen, and there was good reason for that. In another three years, when both children were more grown, it wouldn’t be too late to marry.
Old Madam called Yiniang over. Her small face was flushed attractively red from the heat in the room. Seeing her grandmother looking at her, she remembered the day of the engagement and became so embarrassed she wanted to cover her face. Old Madam affectionately tapped her forehead and said, “Another fortunate one.”
Little Ya sat riding on her brother’s neck, chewing on rice crust in her mouth. Xiao Xi and Xiao Bei pushed from behind with all their might, but the people were too small and lacked the strength to make the swing move. So they ran far away and then charged forward fiercely, but the swing remained unmoved. Frustrated, they went to find their older sisters for help.
Yun Ye hummed a tune under his breath—what a good mood!
Going to the imperial palace to see Grand Secretary Song Lian about popularizing the “Three Character Classic,” he encountered little Ling Dang.
Little Ling Dang’s eyes were full of stars when she looked at Yun Ye, but she was utterly disappointed to see he wasn’t carrying a food box. When Yun Ye produced a large package of sugar-roasted chestnuts from his chest like magic, even her two rabbit teeth seemed to tremble. With a cheer she ran over to snatch the chestnuts, but Yun Ye hid them behind his back and said to little Ling Dang, “Was the beggar’s chicken delicious last time?”
Little Ling Dang nodded repeatedly.
“The other dishes were even better—why didn’t you eat them?”
Little Ling Dang’s face was full of grievance.
“I’m guessing the princess ate them all by herself and didn’t let you have any?”
Little Ling Dang shook her head firmly.
“What do you think—how about I become your princess’s prince consort?”
Little Ling Dang’s eyes opened very wide.
“My family has so, so many delicious things—even the imperial palace can’t compare. There’s beggar’s chicken, braised pork, sweet and sour spare ribs, fried meatballs, soup dumplings, sweet rice balls, shumai, chive pockets—so many, many things. You and the princess can come to my house and eat however you want, eat until you’re plump, and it won’t matter.” Yun Ye felt like he was acting like a child predator.
Little Ling Dang fell into fantasy, not even noticing a thread of glistening drool sliding down from the corner of her mouth.
“The princess says you’re a bad egg.”
Good! Finally got the little girl to speak. As long as she opened her mouth, Yun Ye had full confidence he could confuse her.
“That day was a misunderstanding. When I saw your beautiful princess, I couldn’t help but talk nonsense. I just felt as if I had known your princess in a previous life and met her again in this one. When I got home, I was very regretful and made six delicious dishes overnight to send to you and the princess. Who knew your princess couldn’t bear to eat them herself and sent them to His Majesty instead? As a result, I was punished by His Majesty—forbidden from attending classes anymore and assigned to work at some Institute of Investigation. You don’t know, but that Institute of Investigation is broken down and dilapidated without even windows. I’ve been frozen for several days now.”
Acting pitiful—he hoped to arouse little Ling Dang’s sympathy and help him fulfill his wish of bringing Li Anlan back home.
Little Ling Dang didn’t speak, just looked behind him. Yun Ye thought she was looking at the sugar-roasted chestnuts, so he generously stuffed them into her hands.
“Lecher! Haven’t you suffered enough from last time’s lesson? Now you’re still deceiving little Ling Dang—you’re truly detestable.” Oh no, when did Li Anlan arrive? He had been too invested in his emotional performance just now and hadn’t noticed.
The sound of wind came from behind his head—not good, a weapon! Yun Ye took off running—any later and he’d be dead.
It must be said that Tang dynasty women were fierce. Not to mention that the Li family raised their daughters like boys from childhood—skilled in horsemanship and archery. They had even cultivated an exceptional woman like Princess Pingyang. With this family tradition and atmosphere, it was no surprise that a few formidable princesses appeared.
Yun Ye ran in front while Li Anlan chased behind wielding a small flower hoe. Little Ling Dang peeled sugar-roasted chestnuts while slowly following behind.
From a distance, he saw Song Lian walking with measured steps from the Listening to Waves Pavilion. Yun Ye slowed his pace, regulated his breathing, and stood by the roadside waiting for Song Lian’s arrival. He bowed respectfully early, presenting the image of a good student who respected his elders.
Song Lian was just about to say there was no need for such formality when he saw Li Anlan rush out from the side, raising her flower hoe to strike Yun Ye’s legs.
“Stop!” Song Lian was angry. In the imperial palace, for an imperial princess to beat a national marquis—this was outrageous! Years of education had all been wasted.
Only then did Li Anlan notice Song Lian. This old master was the teacher of nearly all the princes and princesses in the palace, herself included. This was a rigid and upright strict teacher, and of all people, he had to see this—terrible!
“What kind of behavior is this! What kind of behavior! Where has all the humility, virtue, and propriety I taught you gone? For an imperial princess to run about frantically is already improper, yet you actually tried to beat a national marquis! This old man must ask Her Majesty the Empress how she has been teaching you the etiquette of womanhood.” Old Song was very angry—the consequences were severe! Although Yun Ye was laughing inside, he maintained a serious expression as he paid respects to Old Song.
“Master Song, please calm your anger. All of this is this junior’s fault. Some days ago, this junior unintentionally offended the princess. I’ve already apologized and made amends. The princess must still have some anger in her heart. It’s only proper that this junior receive two strikes to help the princess vent her anger. Please, sir, do not take offense.”
“Nonsense! Right is right and wrong is wrong. You unintentionally offended her, and since you’ve already expressed your apology, she should magnanimously forgive you. Only then would she live up to my years of teaching. Harboring resentment and seeking revenge afterward—which point, which principle, accords with the manner of a noble person?”
Probably angered to the point of confusion, Li Anlan blurted out without thinking, “Who asked you to pretend to plead for me?”
Well then, Old Song’s fury was completely ignited. He pointed at Li Anlan and said, “Return to your room for self-reflection and copy the ‘Admonitions for Women’ one hundred times. This old man will report this to Her Majesty the Empress.”
Li Anlan cried grievously as she returned to her room for self-reflection. Little Ling Dang, clutching her sugar-roasted chestnuts, carefully hid behind a flower bed to eavesdrop.
“Master Song, if I may speak—some days ago, it truly was this junior’s fault. Princess Anlan has been lonely and unfortunate since childhood, so her temperament is inevitably somewhat extreme. Please, Master Song, spare her this once.” He finished speaking and remained bowed low.
Old Song sighed. “Very well. This girl’s temperament is extreme—in the future she’ll inevitably bring trouble upon herself. Since you’re pleading for her, this old man will spare her this time.” Having said this, he left, even forgetting to ask Yun Ye about the “Three Character Classic.”
Little Ling Dang just felt that this young master was truly a good person. The princess had bullied him, yet he didn’t mind and even pleaded for the princess. He really was a truly good person. It seemed it wouldn’t be so bad if the princess chose him as her prince consort.