Surviving in the General's Mansion - Chapter 52

Having worked things out, Xia Heng sent Chuqing to wait in the public kitchen, emptied the dirty water, and returned the basin to the storeroom.

When she sat down to eat, Chuqing and the others all kept their eyes lowered.

Before Xia Heng finished, Chef Xiang appeared with the rice bucket unusually early. Other diners wondered why.

No one at their table spoke. Xia Heng sensed trouble.

Chef Xiang passed every other table and came straight to them. Without asking, he dumped a ladle of rice into her bowl.

“Ah, Uncle Xiang’s food isn’t as delicious as the Xiao Mansion’s. How shameful.

“But don’t worry. In our mansion, you’ll always eat your fill!”

As he spoke, he pressed the rice down until a full bowl became half a bowl, then slapped on another ladle.

“Next time you visit the Xiao Mansion, Young Master should take me. Let Old Xiang taste how good their public kitchen is…”

He flattened the rice, nodded in satisfaction, and left.

Xia Heng grabbed Chuqing before she could flee.

“Chuqing! You bigmouth!”

Qiulin and the Zhao sisters threw themselves between them.

“It isn’t worth it! The child is still young!”

Little Wude ate with relish, smiling at the chaos.

“Big Sister, why must I eat some too?”

He looked at the compressed lump of rice Xia Heng had transferred to his bowl.

“Because you didn’t warn me, and you laughed too happily.”

Wude pouted. Seeing none of the other sisters object, he silently chewed the “rice cake.”

Actually, the longer he chewed, the better it tasted.

Afterward, Chuqing regretted her loose tongue while planting something Xia Heng called a potato.

“Will it grow in pieces like this?”

“No. It grows one by one, larger and round. Like this.”

Xia Heng opened *The Cultivation of Cash Crops* to the potato illustration.

The antique-style book was exquisite, its ink-line drawings lifelike.

“Foreigners call it a potato too, but doesn’t ‘earth bean’ suit how it grows underground?”

Chuqing looked at the half-buried seedlings and nodded solemnly.

Zhao Die picked up the book from the ground and dusted it off.

“Keep planting. Don’t pack the soil so tightly. How will it grow?”

Xia Heng lightened her touch and obediently continued.

After planting the potatoes, they divided Xia Heng’s garlic shoots and transplanted them.

“Garlic can survive the cold, but what about these potatoes? This winter may be harsh,” Zhao Die worried.

“It should be fine. The book says to plant them now, and they tolerate cold.”

Only then did the two relax.

“Miss Xia?”

Uncle Zhao stood at the entrance. Xia Heng rose, dusted her hands, and hurried over.

“Why are you here?”

He smiled at the dirt-covered girl.

“Your family sent you some things. Where should they unload them?”

Could Xia Yun truly have sent her mother’s dowry?

Xia Heng glanced outside. A line of men waited with chests.

He had!

She opened her door and had the chests carried inside. When the room filled, Uncle Zhao directed the rest into the neighboring room, empty since Chen Tingting left.

There were so many chests one could hardly walk. Some even held peanuts, lotus seeds, and red dates. Others contained medicinal herbs and spices.

Lady Hao’s love for her daughter was evident in every item.

Xia Heng’s eyes gradually moistened.

“The things are delivered, so I’ll go. Ahem.”

“Thank you, Uncle Zhao, and thank you, everyone. I’ll see you out.”

Zhao Die and Chuqing exchanged looks. Their friend had become rich overnight.

When Xia Heng returned, Zhao Die began, “Since you’re busy, we’ll—”

Xia Heng hooked an arm around each woman’s neck.

“Come! Big Sister will broaden your horizons!”

Zhao Die struggled free.

“Who are you calling little sister? Use your head! I’m not looking. Look yourself!”

She marched toward her room, returned halfway, seized Chuqing, and dragged her along.

Did Xia Heng have no boundaries? A dowry was not something shown to anyone!

Yet she truly did not treat Zhao Die as an outsider.

Zhao Die’s lips curved. Then she looked at Chuqing.

Letting Zhao Die see was one thing, but showing this blabbermouth? She needed instructions.

“Chuqing, don’t tell anyone what happened today. Your Big Sister Xia Heng has no sense of discretion. We have to protect her secret…”

While Zhao Die lectured Chuqing, Xia Heng inventoried her fortune.

“This fur is so soft!”

She pressed a fur coat to her face, then found a huge ginseng root among the medicines.

At that size, might it run away?

Remembering childhood stories, she kept it sealed in its box beneath the red thread.

In a red-sandalwood cosmetics case, she found a letter from Xia Yun.

He wrote that to make the dowry easier to present, he had converted furniture into cash. He withheld the shops because they required management, promising to reconsider if her plan showed results.

At the end, he ordered her to dress well, please Cang Chuli, and preferably bear a child at once.

He also told her to watch for the General’s Command Seal.

Xia Heng sneered and tossed the letter aside.

He did not mention her mother once, as though he had prepared the dowry himself.

He never asked how she was, only urged her to rise in status.

Fine. As for the shops, there was no hurry. There would be plenty of time.

* * *

“Tujue envoys?”

“Yes. His Majesty says they intend a marriage alliance. Their First Prince Huyan Lie and Princess Pasang are coming and should reach the capital within two days,” Qiulin reported.

“Understood. You may go.”

After she withdrew, Cang Chuli tapped the desk.

Tujue had never sought peace in all these years. Why propose a marriage alliance now?

No matter. He would meet each move as it came and see what they wanted.