"The braised pot is truly delicious."
Sister Xiang and Yan Shu ate until their bellies were nearly bursting. The two little rascals had even secretly sipped someone’s wine and were now sprawled drunk under the corridor, hiccuping as they tugged at each other’s sleeves to cover their belly buttons. Grains of rice still stuck to their cheeks as they mumbled, "So tasty, so tasty," before dozing off.
The night deepened, and the courtyard was strewn with dishes and overturned wine jars. Uncles and elders, drunk and disheveled, sang boisterously as they prepared to leave, their robes hanging open and arms slung over each other’s shoulders. The aunties, busy helping Shen Miao clear the dishes, scolded them with exasperated kicks to their backsides: "All you do is eat and laze around!"
Gu Dalang, knocked to the ground by a kick, immediately began snoring like thunder, his round belly rising and falling like waves with each breath. Bao promptly climbed onto him, followed by Di, who piled on top of his sister. The two little ones giggled and called out to Sister-in-law Gu, "Mama, come play human pyramid!"
Sister-in-law Gu, arms laden with bowls, turned to see Gu Dalang’s face turning red under the weight, nearly suffocating. "Stop this nonsense at once!" she cried, grabbing the collars of her two troublemakers and yanking them up. "Hurry up! Your father may be useless, but even a useless life is still a life!"
Once Gu Dalang could breathe again, he resumed his thunderous snoring. Bao and Di squatted beside him, scooping up handfuls of dirt to draw thick black eyebrows on his face. Then, stifling giggles, they tied his hair into two little braids and stuck mud balls at the corners of his mouth.
Aunt Gu watched the mischief unfold with an amused shake of her head as she wiped down the table. Glancing under it, she spotted Gu Tusu, so drunk his words slurred as he clutched the paw of Lei Ting, the dog, and rambled, "Ji Brother, you must’ve been studying hard lately, eh? Look at those dark circles! And—hic—why’s your face so dark? Since when do you have such a thick beard…?"
Lei Ting tilted his furry head as if genuinely listening.
"Who are you calling dark? You’re one to talk!" Aunt Gu rolled her eyes and nudged her son with her foot. "Stop lazing around here. Go sleep it off at home."
Gu Tusu, face planted on the ground, was eventually nudged upright by Lei Ting. Muttering something about Ji Brother’s "second brother," he staggered out of the Shen residence.
Ji Brother and Chen Chuan were also dead drunk, somehow curled up in the donkey pen. Eleventh Young Master lowered his head to inspect them before enthusiastically licking their faces. By the time Shen Miao found them, the two were drenched in donkey slobber.
She hastily hauled them into the house, only to spot Tao, hands on hips, lecturing a tree. Shen Miao hurriedly shooed her off to bed as well.
The alcohol was finally catching up to her too, and her steps grew unsteady.
After the house was tidied and even the floors swept clean, the aunties gradually dispersed. Shen Miao, who had also drunk plenty, forced herself to see them off before sinking dazedly under the osmanthus tree, utterly lost in a tipsy haze.
The liquor burned in her throat and chest, her thoughts sluggish as if veiled in gauze. She had underestimated the potency of ancient fruit wine, and now she was paying the price for her indulgence.
The osmanthus branches rustled in the breeze.
After a long while, she finally remembered: Today was the Dragon Boat Festival. She had watched the races, cooked the braised pot, and—in a whirlwind decision—bought the two-story riverside shop from the frantic Yao Luoge.
Two thousand strings of cash! She had actually spent so lavishly, so impulsively, fetching the banknotes and sealing the deal with Lawyer Deng as witness in less than an hour.
Yao Luoge had even repeatedly reminded her to meet him at the magistrate’s office first thing tomorrow to finalize the official deed.
Drunk as she was, the whole thing felt surreal. Had she really done it? Just like that? With that sum spent, aside from the operating funds for her shops and duck farm, her savings were once again wiped clean.
Shen Miao leaned back against the tree, tilting her face to the sky.
Xie Qi had just finished hauling the equally inebriated Tang Er and Fu Xing to their beds, wrinkling his nose at the stench of socks that filled the room. Stepping outside, he saw the scene before him:
The now-empty courtyard, with Shen Miao alone beneath the tree, gazing upward.
Her cheeks were flushed, her expression dazed, yet her eyes shimmered like stars reflected in water.
Xie Qi smoothed his wrinkled sleeves and walked over slowly.
He crouched before her.
It took Shen Miao a long moment to register his presence. Slowly, she lowered her head, her alcohol-glazed eyes struggling to focus before recognition dawned. Then, all tension left her body as she abruptly collapsed into his arms.
Instinctively, Xie Qi opened his arms and caught her, holding her close—the scent of plum wine lingering faintly around her.
As soon as he wrapped his arms around her, she nuzzled against his neck like a Qilin, murmuring drunkenly, "Ninth Brother, why do you have two heads?"
Xie Qi chuckled. "Take another look. How many do I really have?"
Shen Miao obediently lifted her head, withdrawing her hands from his embrace to cup his face, squishing his cheeks until they puffed out. She studied him seriously, tilting her head left and right before declaring, "Three! You’ve got three heads!"
"Well, that’s even better. With an extra head, I can split myself into three—one to fan you, one to massage your back, and one to rub your feet. How’s that?" Xie Qi replied, his eyes crinkling with tenderness like a spring breeze.
Yet Shen Miao sighed unhappily. "It sounds nice, but I’d hate to see you in pain. Being split into three would hurt so much." She wrapped her arms around his neck, murmuring softly, "No pain, no pain. I don’t need three Ninth Brothers. Just one is enough. Only one."
Xie Qi’s heart melted instantly.
He lowered his gaze, pulling her closer, and whispered into her ear, "Alright. I only want one A-Miao too. Just each other—that’s all we need."
After a while, Shen Miao nestled comfortably in his arms, shifting to loop her arms around his waist instead. Her cheek pressed against his chest, and she curled up like a child, drowsily blinking as if on the verge of sleep.
The night was silent. Lei Ting and Qilin had returned to their posts by the door, keeping watch obediently.
"Let me take you to your room," Xie Qi said, adjusting his hold to scoop her up—one arm beneath her knees, the other supporting her shoulders.
He nudged open Shen Miao’s door with his elbow, not daring to linger his gaze, and strode past the divider into the modest bedroom. The room was unlit, but the clear night spilled silver moonlight through the window, bathing everything in a soft glow.
Gently, he laid her on the bed, removed her shoes and socks, then hurried out to fetch water. He carefully wiped her face and feet, ensuring she was clean and comfortable before tucking her snugly under the quilt.
Next, he meticulously smoothed the blankets, tucking the edges firmly around her and even folding the foot of the quilt under her feet for extra warmth.
Straightening up, Xie Qi rested his hands on his hips and admired his handiwork—Shen Miao, wrapped like a spring roll with only her head peeking out. He exhaled in satisfaction.
But barely a moment later, Shen Miao seemed to grow too warm. Her legs kicked out, her arms flailed, and the neatly arranged blankets were instantly thrown into disarray.
Xie Qi stood frozen, blinking in disbelief, before rushing over to rewrap her with painstaking precision, even smoothing out every wrinkle in the quilt.
He stepped back to admire his work again, only to see her stirring restlessly, threatening to kick the covers off once more. Quickly, he knelt beside the bed, pressing her flailing hands down.
Yet in the next instant, she clung to his entire arm.
"Is Ninth Brother carved from pinewood? You smell so nice," Shen Miao mumbled, nuzzling her flushed cheek against his palm. "I love your scent—like a forest."
Heat rushed to Xie Qi’s face. He sank fully onto his knees, his arm stiff with hesitation. After a long pause, he asked softly, almost nervously, "Do you only like the way I smell?"
Shen Miao’s eyes remained closed, but she smiled.
"I like everything about you. From head to toe." Her voice grew fainter, the first words nearly inaudible. "...My whole life... the only one I’ve ever loved is you."
Xie Qi gazed at her for what felt like an eternity as she drifted into deep sleep. Moonlight rippled across the window lattice, and when a silvery beam grazed his brow, he slowly leaned down, pressing a reverent kiss to Shen Miao’s forehead.
The next morning, as dawn crept up the eastern wall, Shen Miao rubbed her throbbing temples and sat up, trying to piece together the previous night. The house had been lively with celebration, and she’d drunk too much, leaving her unsteady and foggy-headed. She couldn’t quite recall how she’d made it back to her room.
But she was certain she hadn’t blacked out—she vaguely remembered forcing her eyes open and waving Tao off to bed.
If that was the case, she must have washed up before collapsing into bed. Yes, that had to be it.
But the blankets... Shen Miao glanced down at the quilt tightly cocooned around her and frowned. Had it been that cold last night? Did she really tuck herself in so tightly?
She couldn’t make sense of it.
Still, compared to the rest of the household—who’d all drunkenly staggered about—she’d held up fairly well.
As for who else had stayed sober... Ninth Brother hadn’t seemed drunk either. His tolerance was impressive; many aunts and uncles had toasted him relentlessly at the banquet, celebrating their impending betrothal.
And he’d downed every cup without complaint.
Watching him drink cup after cup, smiling as he responded to the uncles' and aunts' instructions and blessings, tilting his head back without a word to down each one, Shen Miao couldn't help but feel a pang of heartache at the sight. Aunt Gu whispered beside her, "Don’t worry, it’s an old tradition in the alley for welcoming a new son-in-law. Even the toughest man must go through this."
Shen Miao could only watch as he finished drinking and sat down, barely warming his seat before being called up again for another round.
Then, she secretly switched his wine for a pot of tea.
When Xie Qi tasted it, he paused in surprise before breaking into a smile.
But Xie Qi’s temperament was truly gentle and respectful, always treating the neighborhood elders with deference. Perhaps it was because he remembered that she had lost her parents, making these uncles and aunts her closest family, so he treated them with solemn sincerity.
Rubbing her aching temples as she recalled this, Shen Miao found her memory growing hazy. When exactly had Ninth Brother left? No matter how hard she tried to remember, her mind remained blank.
Pushing open her door, she realized the sun was already high in the sky. Tao, Tang Er, and Fu Xing—who had been even drunker than her the night before—were already up and working, while she and a few children who had sneaked some wine were still fast asleep.
Tao had picked a basketful of eggplants, lettuce, and cucumbers from the vegetable patch in the yard and was now carrying the fresh, dew-kissed produce past Shen Miao’s door on her way to the kitchen. Spotting Shen Miao’s drowsy expression, she suddenly grinned mischievously. "Hehe."
"?" Shen Miao gave her a puzzled look.
"Did the young mistress sleep well last night?" Tao’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Hehe, I bet you slept wonderfully, didn’t you?"
Before Shen Miao could reply, Tao burst into laughter, covering her mouth as she darted off toward the kitchen.
Shen Miao’s heart pounded wildly—had she made a drunken fool of herself last night? But… but that plum wine had tasted like sweet water! She’d had three or five cups before without getting drunk!
Though yesterday, she’d had more than just three or five cups… Ugh! Wine and lust are the ruin of men—and women too!
Swallowing nervously, she spotted Tang Er emerging from the kitchen with a fish basket and hurried over. "Tang Er, do you know when Ninth Brother left?"
"He left at daybreak," Tang Er replied casually. "He only had one day off for the Dragon Boat Festival. The moment he stepped out of your room, he called for Yan Shu to hitch the carriage and rushed back to the academy—didn’t even stay for breakfast."
Oh, so he’d just left… Shen Miao nodded halfway before freezing. "Wait, what did you say?"
"I said Ninth Brother left early this morning."
"No, no—say exactly what you just said again, from the beginning."
Tang Er didn’t understand why the same words needed repeating three times, but he obediently stammered out, "I said Ninth Brother came out of the young mistress’s room this morning and then—"
"Stop! That’s enough." Shen Miao clutched a nearby pillar for support, her steps unsteady as she staggered toward the washbasin, her mind screaming internally.
Ninth Brother… came out… of her room…
What had she done last night? Shen Miao knew herself well—Ninth Brother was so proper that he wouldn’t even "take liberties" without her permission, let alone enter a woman’s chambers uninvited. She must have forced him!
Disaster! She’d truly turned into a shameless drunk!
And she’d scared him so badly that he fled before dawn without even staying for breakfast… Shen Miao splashed her face with cold water. The well water, left out overnight, was icy, shocking her into momentary clarity—and suddenly, fragmented memories surfaced: her arms wrapped around Ninth Brother’s neck as she collapsed into his embrace, being carried back to her room under the moonlight, and then… cupping his face and spouting nonsense…
Oh no, oh no! She remembered everything now!
Shen Miao took a deep breath. She’d really done something unforgivable.
As she wrung out the towel to wipe her face, her hands paused again. Wait… but after that, she’d genuinely fallen asleep. Had Ninth Brother really let her cling to his arm all night?
After changing her clothes, she reflected deeply on her mistakes. How could she have underestimated ancient liquor based on past experience? Now she’d made a complete fool of herself.
And she swore never to overindulge again.
The house was full of drunkards now. When Shen Miao entered the kitchen, Fu Xing was already simmering chicken congee. The broth, skimmed of fat, was poured over rinsed millet and left to bubble on the stove for about half an hour. Then, shredded chicken and a pinch of salt were added before simmering for another quarter-hour.
This congee was perfect for nursing a hangover—nourishing, fragrant, and comforting.
Shen Miao sat on the veranda, sighing as she sipped her congee. Ji Brother suddenly burst out of his room like his pants were on fire, frantically scrubbing his teeth with tooth powder. "I’m doomed! I overslept—there’s morning classes at the academy today!"
After a few more spoonfuls, Shen Miao watched Ji Brother dart around—fetching clothes from the yard, rushing back inside to dress, then charging out again to pack his month’s worth of dry rations from the kitchen.
Before long, Tang Er hurried out after him, helping to hitch the donkey cart while muttering, "No rush, no rush, we’ll definitely make it to the morning lecture," though he seemed even more anxious than Ji Brother himself. He jumped onto the cart’s shaft, flicked the whip, and off they went to the academy.
The two of them and the donkey charged out of the alley in a whirlwind.
Shen Miao sighed again, propping her chin on her hand as she recalled last night’s events.
Turns out, what she had been hugging in her sleep wasn’t the long cat pillow she’d loved in her past life, but Ninth Brother’s arm. The thought of her treating his arm like a cat pillow, nuzzling against it, and even making Xie Qi mistake her flushed cheeks for a rash from drinking—leading him to gently rub her face all night—made her want to bury herself in the ground.
Silently, Shen Miao tugged at her hair in mortification.
Just as her inner turmoil peaked, a large, flower-adorned head peeked into the courtyard. Yao Luoge greeted her cheerfully, "Good morning, Miss Shen! Having breakfast?"
Shen Miao released her hair, set down her bowl of porridge, and composed herself before rising to welcome him. "You’re here early—have you eaten? Would you like a bowl of porridge to warm your stomach?"
"I have, I have! Actually, it’s not that early! No need to fuss, Miss Shen. Marchioness Lejiang is in a hurry—shall we head to the magistrate’s office now to finalize the contract?"
Shen Miao had already guessed his purpose, so she followed Yao Luoge to the office. Soon enough, a large red seal was stamped with a decisive thud, and she emerged holding the freshly inked official deed, still warm to the touch, as sunlight bathed her and Yao Luoge.
Yao Luoge, delighted, tucked away his copy—meant for the broker’s records—and handed Shen Miao the keys, bowing repeatedly in congratulations before excusing himself in a hurry.
With nothing else to do for now, Shen Miao twirled the keys in her hand and decided to visit the riverside shop that had once been Kang’s establishment, hoping to brainstorm renovation ideas.
Crossing the bridge, she gazed at the lush reeds along the riverbank, thick as a gauze curtain in the late spring warmth, and suddenly remembered last year’s Lotus Festival—watching fireworks with Ninth Brother from this very spot.
Back then, she hadn’t yet understood her own feelings. Who’d have thought they’d now be on the verge of starting a household together?
Time truly flew.
As these tender memories softened her heart, the shame over last night’s absurd behavior gradually faded.
Well, what could she do? The good, the bad—it was all her.
Her spirits lifted unexpectedly, and by the time she reached the former Kang’s shop, that inexplicable excitement hadn’t waned.
She looked up at the now signless facade. It wouldn’t be called Kang’s anymore.
Unlocking the heavy bolt, she pushed the door open. Inside, the space was surprisingly tidy, though all the tables and chairs had been cleared out, leaving only a thin layer of dust.
The creaky, aged wooden stairs led her to the second floor, where bamboo partitions divided six private rooms flanking a spacious central area—perfect for additional tables.
Stepping onto the balcony, the view opened up even more. A cool river breeze brushed her face, carrying the sight of bustling shops along both banks, fluttering banners, and the occasional painted pleasure boat or fishing skiff gliding past.
The balcony, wide enough for four people, had wooden railings. Later, she could line it with cozy two-seater tables, string up lanterns, and let patrons enjoy night breezes with wine, gazing at the glittering lights of the city to the hum of melodies… What an atmosphere that would be.
But what kind of business should this two-story riverside shop become?
Shen Miao stood there, lost in thought. Ideas flitted through her mind—from metropolitan buffet-style complexes to Cantonese teahouses… In the end, the latter seemed most fitting.
Bianjing’s culinary scene was thriving, with "Northern Cuisine," "Southern Fare," and "Sichuan Meals" already well-known, but Cantonese dim sum hadn’t yet made its mark. Shen Miao could fill that gap.
The shop’s two spacious floors were ideal: the ground level could be a "casual tea area," with screens dividing seating—a common setup in Bianjing’s teahouses. The upper floor, adorned with Lingnan landscape paintings, would house private dining rooms for elegant gatherings.
Morning dim sum, lunch and dinner service, even takeaway… It sounded perfect. But local tastes leaned toward wheat-based dishes and mutton, so Cantonese staples like seafood, sweet flavors, and steamed buns would need adaptation—maybe fish-and-shrimp paste instead of pure shrimp fillings? Replace crab roe soup dumplings with mutton ones? As for char siu, a honey-glazed roasted mutton version might work.
Shen Miao didn’t have a firm plan yet, but she knew she should study successful "localization" models (think KFC and McDonald’s) and conduct thorough research before diving in.
She wanted to create a teahouse that was unique, culturally blended, and irreplaceable.
And when the time came, she wouldn’t shy from piggybacking on Fan Tower’s prestige, marketing her dim sum as "Bianjing’s next must-visit after Fan Tower" to lure literati and influencers. Not a bad idea at all.
Of course, to host banquets, aside from hiring skilled calligraphers to inscribe poems on the walls—thereby attracting those literati who fancy themselves connoisseurs of the arts—it would also be necessary to offer some distinctive services, such as storytelling, singing, or performing folk ballads... Hmm, that would mean hiring a few more artistic employees.
As Shen Miao mulled over this, she suddenly remembered Tao’s mother, who was far away in Daming Prefecture.
Rather than employing unfamiliar entertainers in Bianjing, wouldn’t it be better to spend some money to help Tao buy her mother’s freedom? That way, the shop would have a reliable, long-term employee unlikely to resign, while also fulfilling Shen Miao’s needs.
Wasn’t that a perfect solution for both?
The more Shen Miao thought about it, the more worthwhile it seemed. After carefully inspecting the shop once more and settling on the idea, she immediately headed to the labor market to seek out the broker known as Dwarf Tooth, hoping to inquire about the current situation of Tao’s mother.
