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Lu Ke’s wedding was held at the Lu family’s home.
But since their house was close to the village, they also prepared a banquet in the village.
There were a lot of people in the village, and in total, several dozen tables were set up. Each table had a budget of one to two taels of silver. Tables and chairs were borrowed from within the village, and even the cooks were local village women. In fact, this setup was much cheaper than hosting everything at the Lu household.
Every table in the village had chicken, duck, fish, crab, pork, lamb—everything, along with seasonal vegetables from the market and strong liquor. The relatives and friends of the Lu family in the village were eating so well their mouths were dripping with oil.
Ordinary families wouldn’t serve lamb at a banquet, but the Lu family was generous. This feast left a lasting impression on the villagers for years.
And so, with much joy, the New Year approached.
In the Lu household’s rear courtyard, Fen’er had been recuperating for two months. Today, she was taking her final dose of medicine.
“I’ve taken so much medicine, I can’t even taste salty or bland anymore,” Fen’er said as she sat on the bed, covered in a fine quilt sent over by Zhao Shu. The quilt was soft and smooth—something her family would never afford.
Next to her pillow was a jade pendant that Lu Ke had gifted her.
Fen’er couldn’t read much, but she kept the written promise Lu Ke had given her tucked under her pillow, often taking it out to read again and again.
She took the medicine from her emotionless mother, pinched her nose, and gulped it down in one go.
The bitterness spread from the back of her tongue. Fen’er frowned. “Mama, it’s so bitter. Give me some candy.”
“Bitter, bitter—let it kill you!” her mother snapped, annoyed at her daughter’s whining. But she still took out a paper-wrapped piece of malt sugar from her clothes and gave it to Fen’er.
“You only know it’s bitter now. But didn’t you feel pain when you decided to abort the baby?”
Fen’er fell silent, knowing she had hurt her mother with her actions. She didn’t dare say a word in defense.
Seeing her daughter had finished the medicine, Fen’er’s mother carried the bowl out of the room. At the door, she turned and said, “Now that your body is healed, go to the old lady’s room tomorrow. The master’s family is kind, and even though you’re just a would-be concubine, don’t get too full of yourself. Our family doesn’t expect to rise to wealth because of you. Serving the master well is your proper duty.”
Fen’er was stunned.
After over two months of illness, the feverish infatuation she had once felt for Lu Ke had cooled significantly.
She glanced again at the token beside her pillow, and suddenly it didn’t seem that precious anymore…
The next morning, Fen’er, feeling better, went to see Wen Ruyu.
She happened to arrive when Spring Peach (Chuntao) was bringing her fiancé to bow and greet Wen Ruyu. Chuntao had reached marriageable age this year and was about to be married.
Her parents had come to speak with Wen Ruyu about it a few days prior, and Wen Ruyu had agreed.
Today marked Chuntao’s official departure from service under Wen Ruyu. In a couple of days, she would be married off from her family.
Chuntao’s fiancé was the eldest son in a farmer’s household. Though poor, he was known to be honest and steady.
The young man was just twenty, with decent looks, dark skin, and a solid build—clearly someone used to working hard.
After the formal bows, Wen Ruyu gave them a symbolic red envelope—two taels of silver—as a gift on top of the dowry she had already prepared.
A few days earlier, Wen Ruyu had given Chuntao a dowry of twenty taels of silver and instructed her to take it all with her.
Chuntao received the red envelope, listening to Wen Ruyu’s instructions, wiping her tears repeatedly with her handkerchief.
When the couple left Wen Ruyu’s room, all the maids close to Chuntao came to see her off.
Chuntao’s fiancé, seeing so many young women, politely stepped aside to avoid impropriety, waiting at the pavilion for her to finish her goodbyes.
He also took the opportunity to look around the Lu family’s beautiful garden—broadening his horizons.
Fen’er followed the group over and stood by the moon gate, watching.
Everyone was tearfully saying their farewells and didn’t notice her.
Now that Chuntao was marrying out, she would only return to the Lu family when visiting her parents and couldn’t freely go to the old lady’s quarters anymore.
The girls in Wen Ruyu’s service had years of bonds—some since childhood. Even though there were occasional rivalries, at this moment of parting, they were reluctant to let go.
“Come visit us when you have time. In a few years, we might all be married and it’ll be hard to gather again,” said Xia Zhu, who was close to Chuntao and couldn’t bear to part with her.
Chuntao, eyes red, replied, “We’re all still in Qinghe County—we’ll definitely meet again.”
“Chuntao-jiejie, we’ll miss you,” even the youngest maids cried.
“I’ll miss you too,” Chuntao said, patting a little maid on the head.
Fen’er stood silently by the door, watching their tearful goodbyes. She didn’t feel comfortable joining in.
She had never been particularly close with Chuntao, and she knew well that many in the old lady’s household looked down on her for clinging to the third master.
So when Chuntao left with her fiancé, Fen’er quietly returned to the courtyard.
One of Wen Ruyu’s maids saw her and greeted her, leading her to meet the old lady.
Wen Ruyu asked a few questions about Fen’er’s health.
Hearing she had fully recovered, she said, “Now that Chuntao has left, Fen’er will take over her position.”
No one in the room objected.
In terms of seniority, Fen’er was next in line after the other senior maids—Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Snow—so it was only natural for her to step up.
“You can go inform the kitchen today to prepare Tusu wine for the New Year celebrations.”
Fen’er acknowledged the order and went to make the arrangements.
At that moment, the two daughters-in-law came in. One carried Wen Ruyu’s eldest grandson, while the other held a newly published copy of Begonia Miscellany.
During this period, Lu Qing had been studying with a teacher and had become more restrained.
Seeing him, Wen Ruyu patted the seat beside her.
Lu Qing quickly climbed down from his mother’s arms and ran to her side.
With the good looks of both his parents, Lu Qing was adorably cute. Being young, he could easily pass for a girl if dressed that way.
He wore a red silk outfit with a longevity gold pendant around his neck, looking very noble.
Wen Ruyu asked the daughters-in-law to sit.
Zhao Shu said, “Earlier I went to the temple to pray. I was supposed to return and fulfill the vow, but then the third son’s wedding preparations kept us busy for months. Now the New Year is near, I wanted to ask whether we should go to the temple in a few days, or wait until after New Year?”
Wen Ruyu, not having any particular faith except for a past reverence of the God of Wealth, didn’t usually pay much attention to temples.
But being reminded today, she realized they still hadn’t fulfilled their vow.
Even if one doesn’t believe deeply, it’s not good to be careless with spiritual matters.
She stroked her grandson’s head and said, “Of course we should go. Let’s settle this year’s business within this year. Early next year, the eldest sons will be taking exams again. Let’s have them go make offerings too.”
Zhao Shu nodded. “Alright, I’ll go make the arrangements.”
Lin Xiaoyin chimed in with a smile, “Temples are very busy this time of year.”
“Yes, it’s the most crowded time.”
After spending more time together, Zhao Shu and her sister-in-law were getting more familiar. While not best friends yet, they were able to chat comfortably.
Wen Ruyu saw Lin Xiaoyin holding the Begonia Miscellany and asked, “Finished reading it?”
The magazine had recently shifted to being published every two months due to high demand.
After teachers submitted their articles, Wen Ruyu reviewed them, and also drew illustrations—quite a workload.
Since Lin Xiaoyin was known to be talented and even Lu Songnian admired her wit, Wen Ruyu had entrusted her with initial article review duties. She only skimmed them afterward, and rarely were there issues.
“I’ve read it. But lately, the content has mostly been about local scenery. We’ll need new topics soon.”
Wen Ruyu had already thought of that. “I plan to send the scholars on a journey to other regions, with all travel expenses covered. They’ll document local culture and scenery in a lively way and send us monthly reports.”
“Since our current scholars are older, we can hire a younger one—maybe a xiucai or tongsheng—to gather the material. The older scholars can then edit and compile the content. We’ll filter out anything too odd or trivial.”
Lin Xiaoyin agreed enthusiastically and added, “That young scholar could also be given extra silver to support future exam pursuits.”
Wen Ruyu nodded—she had the same idea.
Seeing Wen Ruyu in a good mood, Lin Xiaoyin continued with something she’d been thinking about:
“Mother’s creation of Begonia Miscellany has really broadened the horizons of women in seclusion. With such literary quality, it’s a remarkable achievement. When I was still unmarried, I loved reading these periodicals. Sometimes I thought—wouldn’t it be wonderful if women could also submit their own works?”
“Why not create a section dedicated to collecting submissions from all over?”
Wen Ruyu simply said, “It’s not that easy.”
Lin Xiaoyin didn’t understand. “In ancient times, there were talented women like Xie Daoyun, and Ban Zhao, who even continued the Book of Han. There have always been capable and virtuous women. Among the ladies we know, many are no less talented than men. Why not give it a try?”
Zhao Shu, sensing Lin Xiaoyin might be pushing too much, stepped in gently, “I’ve read a few books, but I don’t know much about publishing. But Xiaoyin, just think—mother already has to draw, review articles, and even handle household accounts. How can one person manage so much?”