"Spring Wedding in the Capital City - Chapter Seven"
The spring day was warm, with fragrance lingering in the bedchamber.
The newlyweds' small courtyard on the east side of the Yan Residence was quiet, with the doors tightly shut.
In early March, the weather in the Capital City wasn't particularly warm. Yet inside the hanging bed curtains, the embracing couple was damp with sweat.
A scroll of paintings lay discarded at the head of the bed. The first half had been unrolled, revealing intricate architectural details and lifelike human figures in the dim light filtering through the curtains.
Ying Xiaoman wore only a pink undershirt, her delicate chin resting on her husband's beautifully sculpted shoulder blade. Occasionally, she glanced at the half-open scroll by the bed, her gaze flickering before quickly looking away.
The Yan family's "fire prevention" paintings... they were quite something!
With her keen eyesight, she could make out the details clearly. In the meticulously painted pavilions and towers, there were explicit depictions of intertwined bodies everywhere. Following the illustrations, one could go a month without repeating positions...
To make matters worse, a voice whispered in her ear: "Which one does Xiaoman like? We can try them out according to the paintings."
His breath tickled her earlobe, causing her jade-like ear to turn pink.
Ying Xiaoman refused to point at the scroll.
When pressed, she only murmured vaguely: "What we just did was good."
Long fingers with slight calluses from holding brushes untied the ribbon of her pink undershirt.
"Which one from just now?" The clear, teasing voice by her ear continued to coax: "Lying flat like a jade mountain, or reclining like rolling hills? Why don't you show me, Xiaoman?"
"..." Ying Xiaoman simply raised her hand and covered that troublemaking mouth.
Young men in their twenties, regardless of appearance or temperament, always had a bit of wolf in them. The Seventh Young Master might look refined and elegant, with a meticulous nature in his work, but once inside the bed curtains, he hadn't stopped all afternoon.
Unlike others, this eloquent young man accustomed to examining cases enjoyed teasing her with words in bed.
As he teased, passion bloomed, and she had fallen for his tricks several times in a daze...
"Shut up, no more talking," Ying Xiaoman said fiercely.
Yan Rongshi, his mouth covered, wasn't angry at all. Instead, he smiled at her with his alluring peach blossom eyes.
The smile warmed her heart.
Ying Xiaoman finally managed to hold her slipping undershirt in place, retying the ribbon. She lifted a corner of the bed curtains that had been down all afternoon, allowing golden sunlight to filter through the tightly closed window lattice.
"What time is it?" she muttered. "I'm hungry."
As if on cue, her stomach growled several times.
It was indeed quite late. The sun was about to set, and dinner should have been prepared long ago, but no one dared to knock and disturb the newlyweds.
The bed curtains were pulled up from the inside and hooked in place. The sweaty couple went to the adjoining room to bathe. Yan Rongshi opened the windows to let in fresh air and had food brought in.
In the small courtyard without outsiders, even eating a meal wasn't a peaceful affair.
One side of the long wooden table was empty, while the couple squeezed together on the opposite side, feeding each other spoonfuls of soup and bites of roasted meat.
"Venison is nourishing, Xiaoman should eat more," Yan Rongshi said as he fed her, adding:
"You've expended a lot of energy this afternoon, so have more venison at dinner to replenish your strength. Should we ask the kitchen to bring a bowl of deer blood soup? I plan to exhaust you further tonight..."
Ying Xiaoman scooped up a spoonful of shepherd's purse and tofu soup, feeding it into his mouth.
"We'll rest tonight. No need for deer blood soup, you should eat more shepherd's purse and tofu to cool your inner heat."
They each ate half a bowl of shepherd's purse and tofu soup.
Ying Xiaoman insisted on resting, so Yan Rongshi abandoned his plans for the night and casually brought up family matters.
"By the way, my family's thirty-second young master is about to start his formal education. I gifted him an inkstone and writing materials a few days ago. Zhi turns five this spring, which is also the right age to begin learning. There are proper tutors in our family school. Should we send Zhi to study together with the others?"
Ying Xiaoman's eyes immediately lit up. Starting formal education was a rare opportunity, and she agreed without hesitation.
"I'll discuss the date with my adoptive mother, prepare the gifts for the teacher, and then send Zhi to begin her studies."
She happily took a few bites of rice, then asked, "Can I also audit classes at your family school?"
Yan Rongshi laughed. "The hired tutors are very strict about rules. Girls under seven can still sit with the young masters to study, but at your age, you can no longer enter the family school."
"Ah..." Ying Xiaoman couldn't hide her disappointment. Her long dark lashes lowered as she stared at her rice bowl.
Seeing this, Yan Rongshi felt a twinge in his heart and immediately said:
"What does Xiaoman want to learn? Poetry, prose, history, mathematics - I can teach you."
Before he finished speaking, Ying Xiaoman had already looked up, her bright eyes full of surprise and joy.
"I only finished the Thousand Character Classic as a child, so I know too few characters. I want to continue studying the Analects, learn poetry and prose, and practice calligraphy."
The matter of Zhi's education was almost immediately settled.
On the sixth day of March, the new bride returned to her maiden home. Ying Xiaoman mentioned the education plans to her adoptive mother, and Zhi entered the school on the tenth of March, formally beginning her studies.
From then on, the little girl began to recite daily: "Heaven and Earth, vast and dark, the universe so extensive..."
In the large study of Fengsong Courtyard, tall pines and cypresses cast shadows through the window into the room.
Every day at noon when Zhi finished her lessons at the family school, she would come to the study to find her sister and brother-in-law. She would lie on the small desk by the west window, carefully tracing characters to complete her homework before returning home.
By the window at the long black lacquered table, Ying Xiaoman was also diligently practicing calligraphy.
Yan Rongshi sat beside her, occasionally glancing over, leaning in to correct her brush grip, instructing her on how to apply force in writing. They sometimes exchanged quiet jokes.
At the small table, Zhi would pause her writing when she grew tired, curiously observing them.
Her sister and brother-in-law spoke so softly that she couldn't hear clearly from just a few steps away, but the child had good eyes and could see everything.
Her sister sat while her brother-in-law stood beside her. They were intimately close as he held her sister's wrist to teach her writing, speaking quietly as they wrote.
She didn't know what they said, but suddenly both of them laughed. Her sister stopped writing, and they gazed at each other, then - oh no! - they kissed!
Zhi propped up two newly cut large sheets of paper to block the view of her sister and brother-in-law kissing to the east, then lowered her head to continue tracing characters.
The teacher had said: One must concentrate fully when practicing calligraphy, without distractions.
Sister was not being diligent!
As March progressed, spring grew more vibrant. Half of the month-long honeymoon had passed in the blink of an eye, with ten days gone by mid-March.
There were important matters in the palace recently.
Beneath the surface calm, the Eleventh Young Master frequently sent messengers with letters and personally visited twice.
Yan Rongshi had taken leave for his marriage and nominally didn't need to go to the government office, but he often went out during the day, staying away for two or three hours at a time.
Ying Xiaoman had free time during the day. In between writing practice and reading, she tried slaughtering a sheep at the Yan residence.
With many people coming and going in the small courtyard, the bloody smell of killing a sheep was too strong. She led the live sheep outside the courtyard to find a quiet corner nearby to slaughter it.
But the noise of skinning, draining blood, and chopping bones still startled the maids and servant women in the courtyard. Seven or eight young girls avoided walking near that corner. Who knows how the servants spread the news, but in any case, the Seventh Young Master's worries were unfounded.
Her life at the Yan residence was peaceful. There were no women in the back courtyard who tried to bully her for being young and newly married, or who caused trouble to her face.
The dozen or so servant women in the courtyard all trembled before her, not daring to raise their heads, each like a frightened quail.
What made her decide to move elsewhere to slaughter sheep was when Zhi came to help one day. The child's fingers got stained with blood, which accidentally smudged a freshly written calligraphy practice sheet, ruining the entire page. This upset Zhi so much that she cried for quite a while.
The next day, Ying Xiaoman went straight to West Gate Inner Street and borrowed a corner of the backyard from the elderly couple who owned the neighboring meat bun shop. From then on, she slaughtered sheep there daily, thoroughly washing the ground with water and moving the fresh meat directly into the butcher shop.
It worked out well since her adoptive mother had moved back to Seven Scholars Lane, saving one string of cash in rent each month. She gave the saved rent money to the elderly couple as compensation, raising the butcher shop's monthly rent to two strings of cash.
These were all minor matters.
On the fifteenth of March, it was Ying Xiaoman's thirteenth day of marriage. Counting carefully, there were only two days left of their half-month honeymoon.
Early that morning, Ying Xiaoman went out. Her adoptive mother had invited Aunt Yang, a familiar old neighbor from Tongluo Alley, to help. Together with Ying Xiaoman, the three of them cleaned the meat shop that had been closed for half a month, quickly making every corner spotless.
Aunt Yang was an efficient worker. With her head wrapped in a cloth and sleeves rolled up, she carefully wiped down the edges of the cabinets. After a moment, she took out two dusty sheets of calligraphy from inside a cabinet.
"There are two red papers with writing on them in the cabinet. Sister Ying, take a look and see if they're still useful?"
The adoptive mother spread out two red scrolls with calligraphy and, upon seeing the writing, called Ying Xiaoman over in surprise.
"Isn't this the name of our butcher shop written on the paper? Child, when did you have someone write this? The two pieces are different, oh, this one is written so beautifully!"
Ying Xiaoman came closer to examine them.
Indeed, both red papers had "Ying Family Lamb Shop" written in five characters.
The one her adoptive mother handed her was written in beautiful clerical script, with an ancient and powerful style.
For some unknown reason, such a fine piece of calligraphy had been crumpled up and tossed in a cabinet, untouched for months.
Ying Xiaoman spread both pieces flat on the table, staring at them in puzzlement for a while until suddenly, a flash of realization struck her.
She remembered.
Last summer, when she still mistakenly thought the Eleventh Young Master was an enemy, the butcher shop had just newly opened.
One night while she was on surveillance, the Eleventh Young Master walked out of the Ministry of Justice. In a strange turn of events, he suddenly came to the butcher shop and softly recited, "Wild orchids grow along the path, fine jade lies in the mud..." She had caught him in the act.
Afterwards, the Eleventh Young Master, regretting his slip of the tongue, wrote down the five characters of the butcher shop's name on the spot, intending to apologize to her...
She had angrily crumpled it up and thrown it in the cabinet, nearly forgetting about it entirely.
"One of them was written by the Shen Family Eldest Son," Ying Xiaoman said, handing that piece back to her adoptive mother to return to the Shen family. She herself took the crumpled one written by the Eleventh Young Master back to Changle Alley.
After clearing up the misunderstanding with the Eleventh Young Master, she realized he wasn't a bad person, and now he was even a Prince appointed by the imperial court.
It seemed inappropriate to leave a Prince's handwriting crumpled up in a cabinet.
Upon returning home, Ying Xiaoman asked, "Seventh Young Master, is there a way to smooth out this crumpled calligraphy? I want to return the Eleventh Young Master's handwriting to him."
Yan Rongshi happened to be at home that day.
He took the crumpled piece, spread it on the table, and examined it for a moment. "Removing the creases is easy. Leave it to me."
Ying Xiaoman sat down reassured, drinking tea and eating snacks. After two bites, she suddenly realized something: "You're not busy today? The Eleventh Young Master didn't ask you to go out with him?"
Yan Rongshi held his teacup and sat down leisurely beside her. "Not busy. Today is the fifteenth, there's a grand court assembly in the palace."
Ying Xiaoman knew about the grand court assemblies held on the first and fifteenth of each month.
"So the Eleventh Young Master is at the grand court assembly and has no time to find you?"
"The Eleventh Young Master indeed has no time to find me. Because at this moment, all the civil and military officials are gathered around him offering congratulations."
Yan Rongshi calmly took a sip of tea: "The dust has settled, and the truth has come to light. At today's grand court assembly, an imperial edict was issued appointing the Crown Prince. The Eleventh Young Master is no longer Prince Jin, but His Highness the Crown Prince now."
Ying Xiaoman: "...Huh?"
The news was so unexpected that Ying Xiaoman was shocked and nearly spilled her tea. Yan Rongshi quickly blocked it for her, and they both got up to find a dry cloth.
Fortunately, the splashed tea didn't wet the red paper.
After wiping the table clean and sitting back down, Ying Xiaoman stared at the five large clerical script characters "Ying Family Lamb Shop" written by the Eleventh Young Master. Greatly shocked, her gaze changed.
"So this red paper is no longer the handwriting of a Prince, but that of the Crown Prince now."
Yan Rongshi nodded: "You could say that."
"This red paper has been stuffed in the cabinet for half a year. Not only is it wrinkled all over, but it's also covered in dust and oil stains..." Ying Xiaoman leaned in for a closer look, growing more concerned.
"Seventh Young Master, can the framing artisan you found fix it properly? If it really can't be fixed well, maybe we shouldn't return it to the Eleventh Young Master? He might get even angrier seeing it like this."
Yan Rongshi brushed away the dust from the edge of the red paper.
"First of all, it can be fixed. After a few refining processes, it will look as good as new."
"Secondly, are you sure you want to return it to the Eleventh Young Master?"
Ying Xiaoman asked in confusion: "Why wouldn't I return it to the Eleventh Young Master? The butcher shop already has the plaque you wrote hanging up."
Yan Rongshi slightly squinted his peach blossom eyes in the sunlight.
"Xiaoman, when you left this morning, I was thinking about how your butcher shop has broken the unwritten rule of the Capital City's upper-class families. Opening a butcher shop is easy, but fending off rumors and gossip is difficult. Is there a good way to make people in the Capital City shut their mouths, so that your butcher shop can stay open for a long time? In the future, when you go out to attend banquets and socialize, there won't be those gossipy women whispering in your ears, or in your mother's and Zhi's ears."
Ying Xiaoman didn't care much and continued to drink tea and eat snacks with confidence.
"Being talked about behind my back won't make me lose any meat. If they gossip behind my back and I can't hear it, I don't care. If they gossip in front of my mother and Zhi, watch me knock out a few teeth of those gossipy women with one slap."
Yan Rongshi looked at her with eyes like the spring breeze, admiration mixed with tenderness.
"I know Xiaoman has a strong mind, rare among young ladies, not easily shaken by words. But Zhi is still young. Now we have a better solution."
Under Ying Xiaoman's attentive gaze, Yan Rongshi slowly pushed forward the Eleventh Young Master's calligraphy.
"If you want the Ying Family Lamb Shop to stay open in the Capital City for a long time, if you want to silence all the gossipy voices behind people's backs, if you want Zhi to be able to use the butcher shop as part of her dowry in the future without any burden, without being criticized by her future in-laws... why not turn the butcher shop sign personally written by the current Crown Prince into a golden plaque and hang it high?"
One sentence awakens a dreamer!
Especially the part about the lamb shop being part of Zhi's dowry in the future, which struck right at Ying Xiaoman's heart.
Her eyes suddenly lit up.
"When you have time, can you ask the Eleventh Young Master for me? The sign he wrote last year, after half a year has passed, is he still willing to let me hang it?"
Yan Rongshi naturally agreed.
"I'll ask him when I see him. Given the Eleventh Young Master's personality, since he wrote the shop sign for you, he won't take it back. If you take down my plaque and hang up his handwriting, not only will the Eleventh Young Master not blame you, he'll probably be secretly happy about it."
The Seventh Young Master and the Eleventh Young Master were good friends for many years, knowing each other inside out. If he said so, it probably wouldn't be wrong.
Ying Xiaoman felt joy in her heart and smiled, pursing her lips. "Thank him for me."
Yan Rongshi then moved the paperweight, folded the red paper that was spread out on the table, and unhurriedly tucked it into his sleeve.
His clear eyes glanced over at Ying Xiaoman, seeing her still smiling, with a look of being lost in thought, imagining the future success of the Ying Family Lamb Shop. His lips also curled into a smile as he called out to her softly:
"Xiaoman."
"Hm?" Ying Xiaoman suddenly came back to her senses. "What is it, Seventh Young Master?"
"You asked me to inquire with the Eleventh Young Master, then to thank him on your behalf. Is that all?"
Ying Xiaoman was stunned.
Seeing the young man sitting opposite her, his eyes twinkling, leaning against the window with the sunlight giving his eyes a deep amber color as he glanced at her sideways with a half-smiling expression, in a flash of insight, she suddenly realized.
"Besides thanking the Eleventh Young Master, I should also thank you, Seventh Young Master! It's all thanks to your suggestion, which is indeed an excellent idea."
Yan Rongshi received her thanks, but it wasn't enough.
Still with that half-smiling expression, he just looked at her sideways, even pulling out a corner of the red paper tucked in his sleeve, slowly rubbing it with his fingertips.
"Xiaoman, you only ask me to do things for you, but won't you tell me... when did the Eleventh Young Master write this calligraphy for you? Why did he write it for you?"
"I know the Eleventh Young Master has feelings for you. But I didn't know you two had met alone? If you hadn't brought it out today, I would have been kept in the dark from beginning to end."
Ying Xiaoman: "..."
Ying Xiaoman rarely felt a bit guilty. She cleared her throat.
"It's not like that. I used to think the Eleventh Young Master was an enemy, so I was often keeping watch on him for a while. While watching, I accidentally ran into him."
"It's really nothing. Seventh Young Master, let me explain..."
*
The sound of a thousand firecrackers crackled, drowning out the noisy voices of people on West Gate Inner Street.
Passersby gathered around to see what was happening.
"Wow, it's the reopening of the Ying Family Lamb Shop. They've hung up such a large golden plaque this time!"
"Wow, soldiers are helping to carry the plaque, what a grand scene!"
Regular customers of the Ying Family Lamb Shop curiously gathered around, asking with smiles and chatter: "Madam Ying, your daughter is now the wife of the Deputy Minister, are you still going to keep the shop open?"
The adoptive mother, leading Aunt Yang, stood in front of the shop, wiping sweat while looking up to check the position of the plaque. She took a moment to smile and say, "Of course we'll keep it open. The Ying Family Lamb Shop will continue to do business for a long time to come."
"My girl? She's not free today. When she has time, she'll come back to work in the shop."
"What does her husband's family think? They have no objections."
Some nosy person persisted in asking: "How could the husband's family not object to a new bride showing her face in public..."
At this moment, the golden signboard was hung above the storefront. The five large characters "Ying Family Mutton Shop" gleamed brightly in the sunlight.
The attention of several scholars nearby was drawn to it, nodding their heads in admiration: 'Excellent calligraphy, excellent indeed.'
They then began to decipher the small red seal characters below the plaque: "The calligrapher's surname is Zhao, the same as the royal family. Zhao—Qi—Zhen... oh!"
The scholars who suddenly realized this were as if their throats had been gripped, simultaneously swallowing back the third character.
Some busybodies continued to pester the adoptive mother: "Young lady has married into a noble family and become a person of status. Your family is now considered half-noble. How can you continue to run such a public business? You're new to the Capital City and don't understand the rules here. Take my advice, close the shop early and go enjoy the good life with your daughter..."
A familiar scholar came over and tugged at his elbow: "Stop talking, let's go quickly."
The busybody still wanted to argue, but the scholar raised his hand and pointed at the calligraphy on the plaque: "Read it carefully."
"What's so special about the surname Zhao? There are hundreds if not thousands of royal clan members in the Capital City. Zhao—Qi—Zhen... oh!"
By the time the adoptive mother had finished bustling about with "Left a bit—Right a bit—Up a bit—Good, it's straight now!" and the golden signboard was properly hung high on the storefront, she turned around to find people, but the crowd of gossiping busybodies from earlier had long since disappeared.
Those who remained were all familiar old customers. The adoptive mother greeted them with a smile:
"This Aunt Yang here is an old acquaintance of the Ying family. When Xiaoman is not free, Aunt Yang comes to help out."
"That's right, the Ying family has set up a female-run household. The butchers in the Ying family meat shop are all women, no male butchers are hired. Young ladies can feel at ease coming here."
"Aunt Yang is also very skilled with the knife, absolutely no short-changing. Sister Wang, would you like to buy a few ounces of meat to try?"
"Oh, my girl, she's not free today."
"Why isn't she free? My son-in-law is at home today, my daughter is keeping him company. Yes, yes, the young couple gets along very well, haha..."
*
At the Yan Residence in Changle Alley.
It happened to be a rare day off from official duties. The newly-wed quarters on the east side were undisturbed, quiet and peaceful.
On a lazy spring day, the occupants had yet to rise for their morning toilette.
The gold-embroidered bed curtains hung down, concealing the movements inside, with only a hint of spring light seeping through the gauzy fabric.
Ying Xiaoman had a book scroll laid out before her, wearing only a short jacket. Her jade-like ear lobes were faintly tinged with red. She raised her hand to block the cloth band being offered, and began to act coy:
"Why use a black cloth band? Just use your hand to cover my eyes."
Yan Rongshi didn't force her, rolling up the black cloth band and placing it behind the pillow, only saying, "I used my hand to cover your eyes last night. Who was it that secretly cheated and got caught red-handed?"
"Who?" Ying Xiaoman stubbornly refused to admit, "It certainly wasn't me."
As they continued to argue, with one firmly refusing to use the black cloth band to cover her eyes, the other finally relented: "Then we'll continue using hands to cover. It's fine if you want to cheat, just don't let me catch you."
Having been caught red-handed last night, there was no point in cheating anymore.
Ying Xiaoman obediently closed her eyes, letting the warm palm cover them. She knelt on the bed, fumbling to grab the scroll and unrolling it on both sides.
The exquisitely painted "fire-avoiding scroll" was three feet long, filled with countless delicate pavilions and towers, and numerous intertwined figures depicted in minute detail.
Ying Xiaoman felt along the scroll, estimating a position in the middle of the painting, and firmly pressed her palm down, confidently saying, "This one."
The hand covering her eyes was removed.
Under the gaze of both pairs of eyes, Ying Xiaoman carefully lifted her palm, revealing the small section of the painting she had covered.
Behind a fake mountain rock in a corridor, two small intertwined figures were meticulously painted.
"Tsk~" She drew in a sharp breath.
Yan Rongshi smiled, "Xiaoman has chosen a good position. Alright, turn around and lower your waist."
"..."
Ying Xiaoman refused to move, acting coy again, "This one doesn't count, I want to choose again."
"Cheating again." Yan Rongshi glanced at her with a smile, "Tell me, how many times has it been?"
Ying Xiaoman stubbornly denied, "I haven't at all."
"Cheating and not admitting it."
They argued for a while longer, finally agreeing that this time wouldn't count, and she could choose once more. But next time, no matter what she pressed on, they must follow through.
This time, Ying Xiaoman deliberately avoided the middle section.
After her eyes were covered by the warm palm again, she held both sides of the scroll, estimating a position towards the bottom left. As if placing a bet in a gambling house, she pressed her palm down heavily: "This one!"
The hand covering her eyes was removed once more. Four eyes gazed intently as Ying Xiaoman cautiously lifted her palm, revealing the small section of the painting she had covered.
In a quiet, secluded waterside pavilion, curtains swayed in the breeze, with two small figures intertwined on a bed, painted in exquisite detail.
"Tsk~" She drew in another sharp breath.
Yan Rongshi sat at the head of the bed, his clear peach blossom eyes filled with joyful laughter, coaxing her gently.
"You've chosen an excellent position this time. Be good, Xiaoman, come sit on top."
*
In the afternoon, spring rain began to fall.
The two sweaty figures embraced each other inside, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting the eaves outside.
The Capital City had frequent rains in March.
This was the second year Ying Xiaoman had heard spring rain in the Capital City.
Her body felt languid and weary, with waves of drowsiness washing over her. As she listened to the sound of rain, she drifted off to sleep at some point.
When she woke up again, they had already bathed, both with the fresh scent of soapberry in their hair.
Their hair still damp, spread out on the pillow in wet strands, Yan Rongshi also showed a rare lazy and relaxed demeanor, casually using a large dry cloth to wipe their wet hair.
The pitter-patter of rain grew louder and louder.
Ying Xiaoman felt a slight stirring in her heart and grabbed his left hand, examining the old scar on the back of it.
The scar left from last spring had faded, almost invisible unless one looked closely.
Touching it, one could still feel the slight unevenness of the scar's edges.
As she explored with her hands, he laid his hand open for her to touch, simply holding her in his arms while continuing to leisurely dry her wet hair with the cloth.
By the time the damp hair was half-dry, their light garments had already become damp with water stains.
The wind blew in from the half-open window, bringing a slight chill, but neither wanted to move. They only drew closer, lazily snuggling together for warmth.
Yan Rongshi pulled out a quilt, wrapping them both inside.
"Not getting out of bed tonight?" Ying Xiaoman asked, stifling a yawn.
"No, we're staying in bed. We'll have food brought in and placed by the bedside later."
"So lazy, if my mother saw this, she would definitely scold me."
"We've stolen half a day of leisure from life. It's no harm to be lazy for a day or half occasionally."
"Mm. Tomorrow morning after you leave, I'll go check on the meat shop too. The signboard should be hung up today."
They exchanged a few casual words. In moments of extreme relaxation, their idle chatter bypassed their minds, spoken and then forgotten.
Ying Xiaoman continued to sleep with her eyes closed.
Yan Rongshi continued to dry her wet long hair. When her hair was almost dry, he got out of bed to fetch a comb and slowly combed her hair.
Ying Xiaoman dozed off for a while amidst the occasional gentle tugging of her scalp, then suddenly opened her eyes, her clear gaze looking up without blinking.
Yan Rongshi paused and asked, "Did I pull your hair and hurt you?"
Ying Xiaoman flashed him a brilliant smile, closed her eyes again, and murmured, "It doesn't hurt. It feels good."
She could live well anywhere.
She lived well in her hometown, and she could live well in the Capital City too.
Her beloved husband was in the Capital City, so she stayed in the Capital City, cuddling with Seventh Young Master on lazy spring afternoons, chatting idly, living simple yet fulfilling days, the kind of life she wanted to live.
It would only get better from here on.
[End of Extra Chapter]