With no choice but to take on the burden of the rear courtyard, Luo Huaimeng — who had always preferred peace and quiet and was disinclined to worry over such trivial matters — felt those traces of reluctance dissolve entirely once she heard of Shi Ting’s future plans.

Shi Ting’s ambitions she had always understood clearly. Should the day come when he became the master of the Shi household, Shi Mansion would certainly not be handed over to Madam Shi. As Shi Ting’s mother, she would naturally have to shoulder this responsibility.

And so it was better to seize this opportunity to put the affairs of the rear courtyard in proper order — this too was laying the groundwork for the future.

Luo Huaimeng was going over the account books with Yan Qing when Xiangxiu lifted the curtain and entered with a happy expression: “Er Yitai, Third Young Mistress has returned.”

“Xin’er is back?” A look of delight spread across Er Yitai’s face and she hurriedly rose: “Quick, go and welcome her.”

Shi Xin arrived with two maidservants and a wet nurse, the wet nurse carrying in her arms a plump, snow-white little baby — with a round, sturdy face and a pair of large, bright eyes, utterly adorable.

The name Liu Zhan had been given by Yan Qing at the time. His mother had since given him a pet name: Little Tiger.

“Oh, Little Tiger is here.” Luo Huaimeng broke into a beaming smile and stretched out her arms to take Little Tiger from the wet nurse.

Yan Qing had never seen Luo Huaimeng so delighted. That smile bloomed at the corners of her lips — simply radiant.

“Third Sister.” Yan Qing stepped forward. “Why didn’t Third Sister send word ahead of time? I could have had something prepared that Third Sister likes to eat.”

“We’re all family — why stand on ceremony?”

Shi Xin smiled and took her hand, and the group went inside together.

Shi Xin rarely wished to return to Shi Mansion, largely because of Madam Shi. Years ago, Madam Shi had schemed to have Shi Xin married off as a replacement wife to the nephew of a rear ministry deputy minister — a man already forty years old, whose youngest child was older than Shi Xin. What Madam Shi had in mind was plain for everyone to see.

Fortunately, Liu Huan had fallen for Shi Xin at first sight and proceeded to pursue her. He eventually presented generous gifts and came formally to ask for her hand in marriage. Liu Huan’s uncle worked in the General’s mansion and personally went before the General to speak on their behalf. The General consented to the match.

Shi Xin and Liu Huan had become the couple they were meant to be. Yet whenever she thought of this matter, Shi Xin felt as if a bone were stuck in her throat. Except when there was business at Shi Mansion, she rarely came back. Out of the dictates of etiquette, she still had to call on Madam Shi each time she returned — and to put on a false face before someone she found so deeply repugnant made her feel sick.

With Madam Shi now in closed-door reflection, Shi Xin naturally had no need to see her.

Luo Huaimeng held Little Tiger in her arms and was feeding him a piece of date cake. Little Tiger had just learned to crawl and had only grown two teeth. His requirements for food were particular, and soft, yielding date cake was perfectly suited to him.

Little Tiger cupped the date cake in his chubby hands and nibbled at it, looking impossibly sweet and soft.

“Yan Qing, I came back this time carrying a message on someone’s behalf,” Shi Xin smiled.

“Carrying a message?” Yan Qing thought for a moment, eyes brightening: “Has Brother-in-law finished making the non-woven fabric?”

Yan Qing had handed the materials to Liu Huan and then never inquired further. In the blink of an eye, seven or eight months had passed.

“Yes.” Shi Xin smiled: “Your brother-in-law, after countless rounds of experimentation, has finally produced the finished product. He asked me to bring you word — his first batch has been made into the surgical gowns and disposable masks you wanted. He asks you to wait one more month; once the goods are ready they will be sent to the military police.”

“Brother-in-law has gone to great trouble.” Yan Qing was deeply grateful. “I have the silver ready. I’ll have it sent over.”

Shi Xin shook her head: “Brother-in-law said he will not take your money. If you insist on paying, consider it him having bought your formula — and he has gotten the better end of the bargain at that.”

“What are you two talking about? I cannot follow any of it.” Luo Huaimeng joined in.

Shi Xin then told Luo Huaimeng about Yan Qing giving Liu Huan the formula. “Jingxian says the value this non-woven fabric will bring cannot be calculated. It may well change the landscape of the entire textile market.”

Luo Huaimeng looked toward Yan Qing. Though somewhat surprised, the things that had happened in recent times had made the picture entirely clear to her: this daughter-in-law was truly no ordinary woman. Shi Ting’s eye for people was, as ever, unerring.

Shi Xin brought Little Tiger to Lanxiang Courtyard for the midday meal. Around noon, Little Tiger needing his nap, Shi Xin took him back to Liu Mansion.

With Madam Shi confined, Shi Xin would likely come frequently.

That afternoon, Shi Ting returned from the military police. On days when the military police was not busy, Shi Ting had free time and would come back to accompany Yan Qing.

At the military police, Shi Ting ate all his meals in the canteen. The canteen food was something Yan Qing could not vouch for.

“Young Mistress, the rear kitchen slaughtered a young sheep just over a year old today,” Jing Zhi came back to report after a trip to the kitchen. “The sheep was from the tidal flats — raised from small on licorice root, drinking bitter alkaline water. The meat is of the most tender quality.”

Yan Qing wanted to personally cook Shi Ting a good meal. Hearing that the kitchen had slaughtered a sheep, an excellent idea immediately leapt into her mind.

Yan Qing sent Murong and Jing Zhi to make preparations and had them fetch a lamb leg from the rear kitchen.

When Shi Ting came to the small kitchen, he found Yan Qing sitting on a small stool, a basin beside her legs filled with marinated lamb, which she was picking up piece by piece and threading onto bamboo skewers in her hand.

“What are you making?” Shi Ting asked curiously, pulling a small stool over to sit beside her.

“Barbecue for you tonight.” Yan Qing blinked.

Shi Ting had only ever eaten whole sheep roasted over a fire; he had never seen this kind of meat threaded onto skewers. “Can I help?”

“Go ahead.” Yan Qing shifted over a bit.

“What are all these things?” Shi Ting asked curiously.

“Onion and soy sauce, plus scallion, ginger, and garlic for seasoning.”

“I’m getting a little impatient.”

Yan Qing’s hands were covered in lamb fat, so she pressed her nose against his cheek: “Don’t be impatient — good food is worth the wait.”

Once Yan Qing and Shi Ting had finished threading all the meat onto skewers, Murong had already lit the charcoal fire outside.

The charcoal fire burned in a large copper basin, over which an iron grate was set. By now the charcoal was glowing red-hot.

Yan Qing had not only threaded lamb, but also chicken wings, fresh fish, and a variety of vegetables. Most curious to Shi Ting was that she had even threaded several slices of bread.

“All of this can be grilled?” Shi Ting looked on in wonder.

“The ancients said: all things under heaven can be grilled,” Yan Qing declared, holding several lamb skewers aloft with great self-satisfaction.

Shi Ting could not recall which ancestor had ever said any such thing. Whoever said it must have been an ancestor with a great love of food.

The two sat facing each other around the coal basin, laid out all the skewers side by side. As the lamb cooked, the fragrance of the fat was magnified beyond measure. Even passersby in the courtyard outside were intoxicated by it.

When the lamb skewers were grilled to a crisp outside and tender within, sprinkled with cumin and chili powder — just the aroma alone was enough to drive one into a state of utter bliss.

“Here.” Yan Qing handed the cooked lamb skewers to Shi Ting.

Shi Ting took them, studied the enticing color of the lamb on the skewers with great anticipation, and took a bite.

The lamb skewer melted in the mouth — fragrant, tender, and succulent. The mingled scents of meat and lamb fat were a collision of flavors for the taste buds.

“How is it?” Yan Qing asked with a face full of excitement.

Shi Ting’s mouth was too full to speak, so he held up a thumb. He had never known lamb could be eaten this way — truly remarkable.

“Try these vegetables too — they were brushed with sauce before grilling, and the flavor has soaked all the way through.”

Yan Qing was proudest of the grilled eggplant. The eggplant was sliced open in the middle, stuffed with fried minced garlic and chili paste, and after grilling, all the fragrance of the garlic had fully permeated into the eggplant. It was utterly delicious.

Grilled vegetables were something Shi Ting had never tasted before.

Yan Qing called Murong and Jing Zhi over, then had them call Jin Shan and Dihuai as well. The group of masters and servants formed a circle, eating skewers and chatting and laughing.

Such good food naturally called for good wine. Murong lit a small mud-clay stove to one side, and a small pot atop the stove was simmering yellow rice wine with ginger shreds.

Yan Qing heard Murong say the yellow rice wine was excellent — nothing like the harshness of spirits — and boldly took a sip. The warm liquid slid down her throat, warming her stomach and her entire body all at once. In the height of summer, it instantly drew out a layer of sweat — wonderfully refreshing.

This yellow rice wine had a slight sweetness, and with the ginger shreds added, also a hint of gingery heat. Yan Qing sipped once, then sipped again.

“Be careful you don’t get drunk.” Shi Ting saw her cradling the white porcelain cup, sipping at the wine inside like a little cat, and could not help but laugh. “This yellow rice wine tastes gentle enough, but its delayed effect is potent. You rarely drink — have just a few sips.”

“I think it tastes quite good,” Yan Qing said, smiling up at him. “Don’t worry — I won’t get drunk.”

Across from them, Jin Shan laughed: “Young Mistress, your face is already red.”

Yan Qing touched her own cheek — it did feel a bit warm. She had only had a few sips.

“Jin Shan, who are you laughing at?” Yan Qing’s eyes suddenly widened, and she let out a forceful humph, then picked up the cup and took a long gulp.

Jin Shan was so startled his skewer nearly fell from his hand. He hurried to stop her: “Young Mistress, I was wrong! My face is red. I’ve had too much.”

He then pointed to his own face and turned to Jing Zhi: “Jing Zhi, look quickly — is my face completely red?”

Jing Zhi stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth.

Yan Qing, cradling her cup, felt her face growing somewhat warm. She rested her head on Shi Ting’s shoulder and listened to Jin Shan and the others laugh and banter.

“Qing Qing,” Shi Ting murmured: “Are you drunk?”

Yan Qing shook her head, pointing forward with her cup: “Shi Ting, look — how wonderful our courtyard is. Everyone is so happy. Yes, good — as long as everyone is happy.”

As she spoke, she let out a small hiccup.

Shi Ting laughed, took the cup from her hand: “All right, no more.”

Had he known she would get drunk after just a few sips, he certainly would never have let her drink.

“I’m not drunk at all,” Yan Qing said with a little humph. “I’m just, I’m just…”

As she spoke, she suddenly cupped his face in her hands, entirely starry-eyed: “Shi Ting, how can you be so good-looking? You’re better-looking than a film star.”

With that, she pressed a kiss to his face with a smack.

The assembled company: “…”

Shi Ting was torn between laughter and exasperation, and could only scoop her up horizontally: “Your Young Mistress is drunk. I’ll take her back to rest.”

Yan Qing lay obediently in Shi Ting’s arms and let him carry her into the room.

“Shall we wash up first?” Shi Ting murmured.

Yan Qing wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes hazy with drink: “You help me wash.”