In the first month of the lunar year, the winter wheat had just begun to turn green.
The delicate wheat sprouts still bore traces of melting snow, and the soil in the fields had not yet fully thawed. The pond, swollen with snowmelt, was brimming with water. Broken branches and withered leaves floated on its surface, but the water remained clear enough to reflect the azure sky and the reeds along the shore, their tender new shoots just emerging.
Xie Qi followed silently behind Shen Miao as she inspected the fields with focused attention.
Draped over his arm was the cloak Shen Miao had once worn. Where she walked, he followed; where she paused to observe, he too halted, though his mind wandered elsewhere.
He had truly become her shadow.
Yet now, he was in a daze. Though his body instinctively trailed after her, his spirit seemed to have fled the moment she embraced him.
His senses remained trapped in that fleeting embrace.
Shen Miao, clever and composed, always managed to pull away first. After their brief hug, she had wrinkled her nose playfully, offering him a faint smile before turning her attention back to her fields, her pond, her wheat sprouts.
But he could not recover so easily.
He was like a flickering lamp, gasping for breath in the ashes.
Xie Qi had never imagined he could yearn so desperately for touch. His waist, where her arms had encircled him, still burned. His chest, where she had pressed against him, felt as though it had caved in at her slightest touch, leaving him nearly breathless.
That single embrace had shattered the dam holding back his emotions, flooding his entire being. He could not suppress the urge to touch her again—to hold her hand, to pull her close once more, to—
Xie Qi stumbled, nearly tumbling into the ditch.
Shen Miao turned just in time. She had meant to check the other side of the field but instead found Xie Qi flailing, struggling to regain his balance.
She quickly reached out to steady him.
"The soil’s still half-frozen and slick with snowmelt," she said.
As Xie Qi steadied himself with her grip, Shen Miao began to withdraw her hand.
Panicked, he tightened his hold.
Under her widened gaze, he lowered his head, lips pressed together, unwilling to let go.
After a tense pause, his heart pounding, he stammered out an excuse: "The path is narrow and slippery… Holding hands makes it harder to fall."
Shen Miao blinked but did not pull away.
At heart, she was still a modern woman—holding hands or embracing was hardly scandalous to her. But Xie Qi looked as though he had mustered a lifetime’s worth of courage, his face flushed to the point of steaming.
"Let’s make one more round, then fetch Sister Xiang and the others. They’re probably waiting on the road to Spring Manor," she said casually.
"Mm," Xie Qi managed, his throat so tight he could barely speak.
After just two steps hand in hand, his palm grew damp with sweat.
Though no one was around, Xie Qi shifted the folded cloak to cover their joined hands. Even in his dazed state, he remembered to protect Shen Miao’s reputation.
She had treated him so kindly, disregarding others’ opinions to respond to his feelings. The least he could do was cherish her and ensure she faced no slander because of him.
Shen Miao glanced at the cloak concealing their hands and understood his intention. Her heart softened, and she curled her fingers, returning his grip.
Xie Qi faltered mid-step, then continued walking stiffly, his movements awkward.
"Xiao Jiu," Shen Miao asked, tilting her head, "do your parents know about us? Would they approve of you spending your life with a common woman like me?" Then again, Xie Qi had moved to West Lane while his family returned to Chenzhou—perhaps that was answer enough.
"Mother knows," Xie Qi said after a deep breath. "Father’s opinion doesn’t matter. He listens to her."
Shen Miao nodded. Good, as long as they knew.
Truthfully, from the moment Xie Qi returned, she had resolved to formalize their relationship. She wasn’t the type to lead him on—she was a responsible woman who intended to stand by him.
Now that she had decided, practical considerations followed.
Fortunately, this era lacked the oppressive Neo-Confucian moral codes of later dynasties. While noble families might have strict rules, commoners had far fewer constraints.
Once engaged, two families became one, helping each other with farm work and celebrating festivals together. If they lived nearby, visiting and meeting freely were perfectly acceptable.
No one expected a betrothed woman to stay indoors sewing her dowry, never stepping outside. No one frowned upon meetings between fiancés, nor preached about a woman’s submission or seclusion after marriage.
When Eldest Sister Shen and Rong Dalang were betrothed, he had visited the Shen shop daily to court her, earning praise as a model suitor.
So Shen Miao believed clarity was best. She disliked secrecy—why should love feel like theft? What she and Xie Qi shared was honest and worthy of pride.
In her past life, she had encountered too many so-called "high-quality men." Having seen enough, she trusted herself—and Xie Qi—without reservation. This wasn’t blind infatuation; she simply knew her own mind.
Her principle had always been this:
Love should be bold and unashamed.
And she had nothing to fear.
If Xie Qi ever betrayed her, she could always divorce him again.
She’d done it once—she had experience.
Besides… Song Dynasty customs and laws favored women’s property rights. As Chen Chuan had explained when reading the legal codes: "In cases of mutual divorce, the wife’s dowry remains hers alone."
A woman’s dowry—jewelry, land, houses—was her private property. Even after marriage, these assets and their proceeds remained separate from the husband’s estate, untouchable by his family.
If the husband’s family wished to use her dowry, they needed her consent. Only what she willingly provided could be used.
Even in cases of family division or debt, a wife’s dowry could not be seized without her permission. If land was purchased using her funds, the amount had to be repaid upon separation.
This was why Shen Miao had reclaimed her remaining dowry so smoothly after her divorce. Whether by social norms or law, unless she agreed, the Rong family had no right to withhold her property.
So… the fact that Rong Dalang had squandered Eldest Sister Shen’s dowry was purely because she had been deceived by his sweet talk. Out of misguided loyalty, she had funded his studies.
At the time, Shen Miao could have dragged things out with the Rong family and even sued them to reclaim her dowry. However, bickering over dowry matters was too time-consuming. She was alone, her health hadn’t fully recovered, and Jinling wasn’t her territory. In the end, she chose to leave those scoundrels behind early and start a new life on her own.
Back then, since she couldn’t avenge Eldest Sister Shen, Shen Miao resolved to take good care of her younger siblings in her stead. Now, the Shen family’s noodle shop had been revived, she owned fields and shops under her name, and Ji Brother and Sister Xiang had grown up safe and happy. This brought her some comfort.
She hoped Eldest Sister Shen’s spirit wouldn’t blame her for the choices she’d made.
But if the Rong family dared to provoke her again in the future, she wasn’t afraid to take them to court now.
In any case, whether marrying or divorcing, she no longer had to worry about post-marital assets being split with the husband or being forced into a cooling-off period before divorce. According to Lawyer Deng, as long as you greased the palms of the officials, even if a wife initiated the divorce and the husband refused, she could take him to court. The wife might be sentenced to a light beating, but with enough money, the punishment could be reduced to a mere formality.
With enough silver, no divorce was impossible.
She had weighed the pros and cons carefully.
Her mind was made up.
Shen Miao walked forward, gazing ahead as if discussing tomorrow’s groceries with Xie Qi, and continued casually, “Since the lady of the house already knows… why don’t you, Ninth Brother, find time to return to Chenzhou in the coming days and ask her to send a matchmaker for a marriage proposal? We can get engaged first. After the engagement, we won’t have to meet in secret anymore, and you won’t have to worry about damaging my reputation. But I’d like to wait two more years before formally marrying. Is that alright? I still want to manage the shops better…”
Before she could finish, she felt a tug on her arm. Turning, she saw Xie Qi standing frozen on the field path, looking at her like a pitiful puppy, his expression caught between laughter and tears as he stammered, “I… I can’t walk anymore.”
“Hmm?”
“My legs… they’re… shaking…”
It was as if the heavens had dropped a pie from the sky, and he was nearly knocked senseless by the impact.
While Shen Miao and Xie Qi were discussing life’s big matters by the field path, Sister Xiang and the others had already arrived at the Xie family’s spring estate. Sister Xiang wondered aloud, “Why hasn’t Elder Sister arrived yet?”
Ji Brother, carrying frozen pears in his hands, replied, “Maybe she’s taking her time inspecting the fields.”
Zhou Da led the way ahead. Behind the spring estate was a pasture for raising horses, perfect for riding.
“No matter. Let’s spread out a mat and have Zhou Da set up curtains. We can sit and eat while waiting for Lady Shen and Ninth Brother,” Yan Shu said, adjusting the cloth strap on his shoulder. The bag on his back held two roasted chickens Shen Miao had prepared before leaving. The aroma of the clay-baked chicken had teased his senses the whole journey, making his mouth water.
Chen Chuan, carrying dried persimmons, walked awkwardly with his legs slightly apart—unused to horseback riding, his inner thighs burned from the friction.
They soon reached the spot.
Yan Shu helped Zhou Da and Zhou Chuyi hang the curtains and lay out woven mats and cotton cushions to sit on, making the area warm and comfortable. They also had the estate’s servants bring charcoal braziers and a small stove.
The clay-baked chicken had cooled, so they reheated it over the stove.
It doubled as a heater.
Sister Xiang stared intently at the skewered chicken, thinking to herself that she would save both drumsticks for Elder Sister and Ninth Brother.
After finishing with the curtains, Yan Shu sidled up to Sister Xiang mysteriously. “I just tripped over a rabbit hole in the grass. Want to go catch rabbits with me?”
Sister Xiang’s eyes lit up. “Where?”
“Over there.” Yan Shu pointed toward a rocky slope. “Rabbits love burrowing near stones. I saw several holes, and there’s rabbit droppings too—definitely rabbits inside.”
“Brother and Xiao Chuan should come too. By the time Elder Sister arrives, we might even have rabbit to eat!” Sister Xiang rubbed her hands together eagerly, pulling Chen Chuan along with one hand and pushing Ji Brother with the other. “Let’s go, let’s go!”
Catching rabbits was simple. They piled damp leaves, twigs, and dry grass at the entrance of a burrow, lit it to create smoke, and fanned the smoke inside. The rabbits would soon bolt out in a panic.
Then, they’d grab them as they emerged.
They got to work immediately. The children scattered, and soon Sister Xiang returned with an armful of snow-dampened branches and dead leaves, while Chen Chuan gathered thick reeds.
Ji Brother twisted the materials into a bundle and stuffed it into the burrow’s entrance. Yan Shu pulled out a flint from his pocket and struck it a few times—clink, clink—until the leaves and reeds caught fire. Flames leaped up, and thick smoke billowed straight into the hole.
Yan Shu even used his sleeve to fan the entrance vigorously, muttering, “Come out, come out!” The smoke poured relentlessly into the burrow.
After about the time it took to drink a cup of tea, there was still no movement inside. Sister Xiang pouted in disappointment. “Did we pick the wrong hole? Maybe there’s no rabbit in there at all.”
But Yan Shu shook his head confidently. “Don’t rush. Rabbits are cunning—their burrows are deep. Let the smoke work a little longer. They’re definitely still hiding inside.”
Just as he spoke, rustling came from the hole. The children perked up, eyes fixed on the entrance. Suddenly, two or three large gray rabbits burst out in a frantic dash.
“There they are!”
Yan Shu shouted and lunged. Sister Xiang sprinted after them, reaching out to grab one. But the rabbits were quick, zigzagging through the grass with agile leaps.
Chen Chuan timed his pounce perfectly, hurling himself at one—only for the rabbit to dart away, leaving him face-first in the grass with a mouthful of weeds.
The rabbits scattered downhill, nearly vanishing from sight. In a flash, Sister Xiang snatched up a stone and hurled it. Whoosh! The rock grazed a rabbit’s tail, startling it into changing direction.
Ji Brother, who had been quietly observing the rabbits’ escape routes, dashed ahead and, with a sudden leap, pinned one to the ground with both hands.
“We got one! We got one!” Sister Xiang and Yan Shu cheered. The children, now sweaty and exhilarated, crowded around, laughing and shouting, their voices echoing across the field.
By the time Shen Miao and Xie Qi finally rejoined them at the spring estate, they found the four children gathered around a large gray rabbit, debating something with furrowed brows.
The rabbit’s long yellow teeth protruded from its mouth, giving it a fierce look. It stomped its feet angrily and gnawed relentlessly at the bamboo cage Zhou Da had found for it.
“Where did you get this rabbit?” Shen Miao asked, her cloak draped over her arm.
“We caught it!” Sister Xiang excitedly recounted their heroic rabbit-hunting feat.
Shen Miao smiled and praised them. “You’re all so impressive?”
Sister Xiang nodded proudly, but soon her expression turned dejected. Exchanging glances with Yan Shu and Chen Chuan, she suddenly sighed with an air of worldly weariness. "We wanted to catch the rabbit to make 'Boxia Gong' stew, but now we don’t feel like eating it anymore."
Yan Shu nodded, propping her chin in her hands with a troubled frown. "Zhou Da said this is probably a mother rabbit. Its fur is patchy—likely plucked to make a nest. So there must be baby rabbits in that burrow."
Chen Chuan had already taken pity on the creature. "Let’s just release it. It has babies to care for."
Ji Brother agreed. "We don’t need this meal. Better not eat it."
Shen Miao naturally supported the idea. "Let it go. If you crave rabbit, I’ll buy some farm-raised meat rabbits later. I’ll make you braised rabbit, spicy diced rabbit, or spicy rabbit heads—all delicious."
After exchanging glances, the children had Sister Xiang use a twig to unlatch the bamboo cage. The rabbit immediately darted out and vanished into the distance.
Yan Shu reluctantly tore her gaze away from where the rabbit had disappeared, only to notice that Xie Qi stood behind Shen Miao like a lost soul, dazed and vacant, lost in thought.
"Xie Qi? Xie Qi!"
Xie Qi snapped back to reality. "Huh?"
Yan Shu grew even more suspicious.
Shen Miao rubbed her nose, slightly embarrassed.
Had she known Xie Qi would react so strongly, she would have waited until they returned home to bring up the matter.
After telling him about the betrothal, they sat side by side on a dry rock by the field for what felt like ages before he finally seemed to wake from a dream. Later, as they rode back to the spring estate, he held her so tightly. When they stopped, his head even drooped weakly onto her shoulder, nuzzling against her. His voice was hoarse as he murmured,
"Shen Miao."
"Shen Miao."
He whispered her name over and over, as if savoring each syllable.
Shen Miao didn’t understand why, and he didn’t explain.
Only when helping her dismount did he look up at her, his gaze deep and intense, reflecting nothing but her.
In that moment, Shen Miao finally realized—Xie Qi’s heart was like a surging river, like fireworks bursting in the sky. But his nature was calm and steady, so even the most overwhelming emotions didn’t manifest in shouts or wild gestures.
Instead, he appeared composed on the surface, yet so overcome with joy that his legs nearly gave way.
Shen Miao suddenly found him rather endearing.
Suppressing a smile, she decided not to mention it again, letting him recover in peace. In his state, he couldn’t teach Sister Xiang to ride, so Zhou Da ended up guiding her instead, showing her how to mount and hold the reins. Meanwhile, Shen Miao, Ji Brother, Chen Chuan, and Yan Shu happily feasted on glistening kiln-roasted chicken and icy-sweet frozen pears.
"So good," Yan Shu mumbled through a mouthful, tearing off another piece of chicken. Shen Miao was just as skilled at roasting chicken as she was at duck! The chicken, wrapped in sun-dried lotus leaves before roasting, was infused with their fragrance—crispy skin on the outside, tender meat soaked in rich sauce inside. He ate with such gusto that his mouth gleamed with grease, yet he still remembered to save a large chicken wing for Sister Xiang.
Seeing the dried lotus leaves beneath the chicken, Shen Miao was reminded of another dish—lotus leaf glutinous rice chicken. She still had several dried lotus leaves stored from summer, perfect for making it at home: sticky rice stuffed with chicken, barbecued pork, spare ribs, salted egg yolk, and shiitake mushrooms, all steamed together, the flavors melding into the rice with the lotus leaf’s delicate aroma.
Tomorrow, she’d make glutinous rice chicken. Nodding to herself, she sipped the sweet pear juice.
Then she glanced at Xie Qi.
He sat curled up, long legs bent, holding his fox-fur cloak, his profile serene.
Shen Miao shook her head—his soul still hadn’t fully returned after her earlier revelation.
Time flew by. They wrapped sweet glutinous rice balls for the Lantern Festival, admired the vibrant lantern displays, and with that, the New Year celebrations came to an end.
Everything had been fine these days—except Xie Qi, who seemed to have lost two of his three souls and seven spirits. He walked into walls, dropped his chopsticks at meals, and even tripped on steps multiple times. Alarmed, Yan Shu rummaged through boxes and cabinets, digging out an assortment of colorful talismans and protective charms, draping Xie Qi from head to toe in them.
Puzzled, she circled him twice. "Strange. Has bad luck returned? But this time, it feels... different somehow?"
Each time, Shen Miao quietly slipped away.
A few days later, as the Bian River’s ice began to thaw, spring of the fourth year of Baoyuan officially arrived.
Early that morning, Liang Qian arrived with a young eunuch to buy roasted duck. Carefully packing the duck into a food box, Shen Miao handed it over with a smile. "Here you go, Eunuch Liang. And if it’s not too much trouble, might I ask you to introduce me to someone from the Canal Transport Office? I’d like to arrange passage on a barge to the south to purchase ducklings."
Liang Qian remembered this matter. Taking the duck, he replied, "No need to rush, Mistress Shen. His Majesty has already made the arrangements. When the barges are ready to depart, someone will come to your shop to discuss the details."
Perfect. Shen Miao saw him off with warm words, watching until his carriage disappeared down the street.
With this confirmation, she hurried to Aunt Li’s house to discuss the trip to Jinling for ducklings.
Purchasing ducklings required someone trustworthy and skilled in selecting healthy birds. Even with the Emperor’s approval, they couldn’t rely solely on the canal officials—they were busy with official duties and weren’t duck breeders. Moreover, the journey was long and arduous. Without proper care, they risked spending a fortune only to receive sick or dead ducks, a devastating loss.
Earlier, Shen Miao had floated the idea to Aunt Li, asking if she’d be willing to make the trip with silver in hand to pick out the best ducks. If Aunt Li worried about leaving Gou Er behind, she could entrust him to Shen Miao, who would handle his meals and school commute.
Naturally, such a task came with generous compensation.
At the time, Aunt Li had hesitated. She’d spent most of her life within the narrow lanes of Willow East Alley, never venturing beyond Bianjing City. The thought of traveling so far was daunting.
But now, hearing that they could take a canal barge with officials onboard, and that the trip to Jinling and back would take only about a month, Aunt Li finally steeled herself.
"Alright. Then... then I’ll go with your Uncle Li. Gou Er really will be in your care."
She still didn’t dare travel alone.
Their family’s porcelain-mending business had been struggling lately, and Li Tiaozi barely scraped together a few hundred coins a day. Besides, Eldest Sister Shen had promised—all travel expenses would be covered, and they’d receive several strings of cash as payment on top of that.
Aunt Li had already come to accept that Gou Er simply didn’t have a talent for studying. The tutor at the private school had hinted as much several times—though Gou Er was diligent, he just didn’t have the mind for books. As his mother, all she could do was work hard while she still could, saving up money for her son’s future.
When Shen Miao heard that Aunt Li had agreed, she couldn’t help but let out a long sigh of relief. Otherwise, she had been prepared to send Tang Er along with Aunt Li to learn the basics of duck herding and feeding before dispatching him on the journey. But how could a beginner compare to an experienced hand? There was no telling what mishaps might occur along the way, and Tang Er might not be able to handle them.
With Aunt Li taking on the task, it was undoubtedly the best outcome.
Just as Aunt Li and her husband were about to set off on the canal boat, news of the county-level exam results began to circulate.
