Chapter 20

Zhan Jianxing noticed her mother’s reaction and felt deeply that she had been deceived. However, afraid of adding to Xu Shi’s worries, she had never mentioned Zhu Chengke’s provocations at home. Naturally, she couldn’t expose Zhu Chengjun’s true nature now and had no choice but to swallow the grievance silently. Without a word, she made several trips back and forth, helping Qiu Guo move all the stall equipment inside.

Then Xu Shi urged them, “Go on, sit in the inner room. Once I start cooking, the kitchen will be smoky—I don’t want you getting choked up.”

The Zhan Family Bun Shop followed a front-store, back-home layout. The large front room facing the street was unpartitioned, serving as the space for making buns and meals. On rainy days, the stall was moved inside the shop to sell. Since they had limited staff and didn’t offer additional items like porridge, customers could buy and leave quickly, avoiding any discomfort from the stove smoke.

Through the back door of the shop was an extremely small courtyard—so small that when Zhan Jianxing led Zhu Chengjun and Qiu Guo inside, the three slender youths nearly filled it up.

Ahead were two main rooms, which served as Xu Shi and Zhan Jianxing’s living quarters. Unable to take them to Xu Shi’s room, Zhan Jianxing could only guide them to her own.

Her room was sparsely furnished: a kang bed, a wooden cabinet, and a desk—these were the only major pieces of furniture. There was only one stool, so she had to fetch two more from the shop to seat all three.

Qiu Guo gaped in astonishment. “Study Companion Zhan, your family is really poor!”

His words were blunt but not malicious, so Zhan Jianxing didn’t take offense. As she arranged a plate of snacks on the desk, she replied, “Young Master must find this amusing. As I said, we’re a humble household.”

Qiu Guo quickly waved his hands. “Study Companion Zhan, no need to be so polite—just call me by my name.”

He leaned forward curiously to examine the assortment of snacks on the plate: Sugar Cake, Peanut Candy, Jujube Paste Cake, Five-Spice Melon Seeds, and others. While the presentation was plain, the portions were generous, and everything looked clean.

“Master, try this one,” Qiu Guo said eagerly, picking up a piece of Jujube Paste Cake for Zhu Chengjun.

Zhu Chengjun declined. “I don’t like sweets.”

“Just one bite. If you don’t like it, I’ll eat it.”

Reluctantly, Zhu Chengjun took a bite. After a moment, instead of handing it back, he continued eating it himself.

“Huh? Is it that good?” Qiu Guo grabbed a piece for himself and soon understood—it wasn’t overly sweet, carrying more of the jujube paste’s subtle fragrance.

Sugar was expensive, and most bakeries didn’t use much of it.

Zhan Jianxing was slightly surprised. Seeing Zhu Chengjun initially refuse, she had assumed he looked down on such simple snacks. Yet now both master and servant were happily eating.

After finishing the cake, Qiu Guo began cracking melon seeds, carefully setting aside the kernels. His eyes wandered around the room, and he couldn’t help but remark again, “Study Companion Zhan, you really have it tough. I’ve never seen a room this bare before.”

Zhan Jianxing replied, “It’s fine. It’s livable.”

In truth, her family wasn’t as destitute as it seemed. After living in Datong for over two years, they had recovered somewhat. The bun business might seem insignificant, but penny by penny, they had managed to save up.

With the threat of the Zhan family relatives looming, Xu Shi and Zhan Jianxing always felt as if they were sitting on pins and needles. Even when they managed to save a little money, they subconsciously avoided adding much to their home, afraid that one day they might be forced to leave, and more belongings would only mean more trouble.

Zhan Jianxing didn’t plan to mention these matters—after all, they were family affairs, and the others were complete strangers to them.

After a while, Qiu Guo spoke again, “Study Companion Zhan, if you don’t have money for decorations, you could always pick a few branches of flowers to arrange in a vase.”

Zhan Jianxing hadn’t expected him to start offering suggestions. It seemed that, though he was a servant, he was accustomed to the luxuries of the prince’s household and was genuinely shocked by her poverty.

She popped a piece of peanut candy into her mouth, her cheek puffing slightly. “No time, and no mood for it.”

Qiu Guo was puzzled. “No time, I get that, but how can you have no mood for it? Don’t scholars like you appreciate elegance?”

Since they had nothing else to do, Zhan Jianxing counted on her fingers as she explained, “Every day at Yin hour, my mother gets up to boil water, knead dough, and steam buns. By Mao hour, she sets up the stall, and from then until Si hour, she’s busy selling and steaming more, with not a moment to spare.”

Qiu Guo asked, “What about after selling? Like now—there’s nothing to do, right?”

Zhan Jianxing didn’t answer, merely tilting her head slightly to glance toward the front shop.

Qiu Guo suddenly understood. “Ah, right, Auntie still has to cook.” His hands kept busy shelling sunflower seeds, piling up a small heap, while his mouth continued, “Then after cooking? Surely there’s nothing to do in the afternoon.”

Zhan Jianxing shook her head. “We have to prepare the fillings for tomorrow morning—washing and chopping vegetables, mixing the fillings. Everything has to be done ahead of time; there’s no time in the morning.”

Qiu Guo refused to give up. “What about the evening? Surely you don’t work then too?”

“In the evening, we knead the dough.” She asked him, “Have you seen how the kitchen in your household makes steamed buns? The dough has to be kneaded in advance, covered, and left to rise for a while. It’s not like making flatbread, where you can use the dough right after mixing.”

Qiu Guo stammered, “Th-That’s too much work. When do you even rest?”

“During the New Year. We can rest for a few days then. Every household prepares their own food during that time, so there’s no need to buy from us.”

Qiu Guo finally fell silent, his hands stopping mid-motion, his face full of awe.

He had thought selling buns was as simple as sitting at the door and collecting money. When Zhu Chengjun had been selling outside earlier, he had even found it amusing. He never imagined there was so much grueling work behind it.

Zhu Chengjun, however, remained unmoved. He reached out, grabbed the small pile of shelled sunflower seeds Qiu Guo had prepared, and popped them into his mouth. With his mouth full, he said even less.

Zhan Jianxing, annoyed at the sight of him, had no desire to speak to him either. She turned back to Qiu Guo and circled the conversation back. “With so much to do every day, all I want is to rest afterward. That’s why I have no mood for it.”

This was the forced numbness brought on by exhaustion—not unique to the Zhan family, but shared by many common folk living similar lives.

As a servant himself, Qiu Guo could understand this feeling. He nodded sympathetically. “Ah, I get it now. Thankfully, our Ninth Master doesn’t demand much. Unlike Seventh Master—the maids serving him have it rough. He won’t use the same handkerchief twice; he throws it away after wiping his mouth. Just keeping up with his little daily tasks is endless work.”

This man wouldn’t even write a few lines of calligraphy and had someone shell his sunflower seeds for him—how could he possibly be considered “low-maintenance”?

Zhan Jianxing secretly rolled her eyes at Zhu Chengjun in her mind but refused to voice her agreement.

Qiu Guo didn’t notice and continued shelling melon seeds, asking again, “Study Companion Zhan, do you know any fun places in the city? My master and I want to go exploring this afternoon.”

This was a question Zhan Jianxing couldn’t answer: “I don’t know. I rarely go out.”

“Oh right, you’re busy,” Qiu Guo realized. “Then we’ll just have to wander around aimlessly.”

Though he said this, his face showed no disappointment—he seemed excited even at the prospect of random wandering. Zhan Jianxing understood after a moment’s thought: after being confined for eight years, a rare day off to go outside would make everything seem fresh and delightful.

No wonder Zhu Chengjun had been so eager to help her sell steamed buns earlier—this young master genuinely saw it as entertainment. Though it was certainly peculiar entertainment.

Thinking this, Zhan Jianxing’s irritation subsided somewhat. While hardship had tempered her resilience, her heart wasn’t cold. Putting herself in his shoes—if she’d been born never seeing the world beyond four high walls, even golden ones wouldn’t bring happiness.

After more idle chatter, the meal was ready up front, and Xu Shi came to call them to eat.

Xu Shi remained somewhat nervous around Zhu Chengjun, speaking carefully yet trying to appear hospitable. She wasn’t trying to curry favor for any advantage—just a mother’s hope that treating him well might spare Zhan Jianxing some bullying at the prince’s residence.

Zhan Jianxing noticed this. She wanted to say it was pointless—she wasn’t even Zhu Chengjun’s study companion, so he had no authority over her—but couldn’t voice this directly, so she focused on eating instead.

Zhu Chengjun didn’t clarify either. Whatever Xu Shi said, he just kept eating. One bowl wasn’t enough—he had Qiu Guo refill it for him.

Xu Shi beamed at this: “Eat more, don’t stand on ceremony. I wish our Xing’er had such an appetite.”

It seemed a universal maternal joy to see children eat heartily—if not her own child, then another’s would do.

Zhu Chengjun showed no restraint, polishing off two full bowls. Qiu Guo matched his master’s appetite. When the pair finished and prepared to leave, Zhan Jianxing—prodded by Xu Shi—escorted them out. Only then did Zhu Chengjun finally speak: “Your mother’s kind.”

Not expecting more, Zhan Jianxing took this as thanks and nodded.

“Study Companion Zhan, we’re off now!”

Qiu Guo waved cheerfully and trotted after Zhu Chengjun.

Returning alone, Zhan Jianxing found the whole morning baffling. And it wasn’t over yet—she still had those five pages of calligraphy Zhu Chengjun had forced on her!

After helping Xu Shi clear the table, washing vegetables, and chopping for a while, Zhan Jianxing reluctantly announced she needed to work and returned to her room to spread out ink and paper.

She didn’t skimp despite her reluctance, meticulously completing each stroke. Dusk had just fallen when she finished.

At least she wouldn’t need extra candlelight tonight. Rubbing her sore wrist, she heard Xu Shi call from the front: “Xing’er! A distinguished guest is here for you!”

What distinguished guest?

Puzzled, Zhan Jianxing responded, “Coming.”

She hurried out—only to find Zhu Chengjun and Qiu Guo at the door, the latter clutching a large branch of plum blossoms.

“Study Companion Zhan, this is for your room.” Qiu Guo cheerfully held out the plum blossom in her arms. “His Lordship and I went wandering outside the city and found some wild plum trees, so we picked a branch for you. Just find any vase or jar to put it in, add some water, and it’ll stay fragrant for days.”

Zhan Jianxing was taken aback. Her gaze shifted from the plum blossom to Qiu Guo and Zhu Chengjun beside her. The two had been out for half the day, their cheeks flushed red from the wind, yet instead of hurrying back to the manor to rest, they had detoured to bring her a plum blossom.

Whatever their intentions, it was still a kind gesture.

Nobility often had similar temperaments, with a touch of innocence—perhaps not entirely as detestable as she had imagined.

Zhan Jianxing reached out and took the plum blossom, her movements hesitant as she thought of the meticulously written calligraphy sheets drying in her room.

Maybe if she tried reasoning with Zhu Chengjun again, she could persuade him—then she wouldn’t have to resort to that last measure—

“Let’s go.” Zhu Chengjun called to Qiu Guo, then turned to Zhan Jianxing. “Is my writing practice done? If not, hurry up. If it’s not ready by tomorrow morning, I’ll tell Seventh Brother.”

Zhan Jianxing: “…”

Her softened emotions froze solid again. With an impassive expression, she replied, “Understood.”

Just you wait. Hmph.

Author’s Note:

Time flies—it’s been almost twenty days since this story began. After discussing with my editor, the story will go premium on October 1st, with three updates that day. A bow of gratitude—once again, I’ll be counting on everyone’s support (* ￣3)(ε￣ *)

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This Chapter’s Mini Theater:

In Star’s eyes, Zhu Xiao Jiu: A tyrant, spoiled rotten.

In Zhu Xiao Jiu’s eyes, Star: A steamed bun, homework.