Shen Miao turned her head at the sound of the voice.
There stood Yao Luoge, dressed in garish colors—a red and green slit robe paired with multicolored silk sashes, a sprig of mugwort and pomegranate flowers slanted across his forehead—flitting through the crowd like a gaudy butterfly.
"My dear Madam Shen!" Yao Luoge grinned before even speaking, his mouth already opening to launch into his usual spiel.
Shen Miao shot him a glance and cut him off with a raised hand: "Not renting, not interested, truly."
Ever since he’d spotted her zoning out outside Kang’s establishment that one time, he’d shrewdly pegged her as a potential customer worth pursuing. Since then, every encounter had involved him pestering her relentlessly.
Thirty strings of cash a month wasn’t an outrageous rent, but between her duck farm, fields, noodle shop, and fast-food stall, she already had enough on her plate. There was no pressing need to scramble for a grand restaurant. Besides, the Kang’s property would undoubtedly require a complete tear-down and renovation—another hefty expense.
Money would vanish like water through her fingers.
Truthfully, Shen Miao was more inclined to buy than rent.
A place as large as Kang’s was nothing like that tiny half-shop on Imperial Street—small, cheap, and barely manageable. Thirty strings a month added up to three hundred and sixty strings a year!
Three hundred and sixty strings! The mere thought made Shen Miao’s heart ache.
If she gritted her teeth and bought such a property, the initial cost might be steep, but every penny earned afterward would be hers—no more slaving away for a landlord.
Besides, two-story shops were plentiful in the inner city. Even single-story ones could be expanded with enough silver. Her original plan had always been to grow her business steadily and eventually purchase a good property at her own pace.
Kang’s was nice, but there was no need to fixate on a single option.
Yao Luoge stomped his foot in frustration. "Madam Shen, hear me out! This time, it’s truly a golden opportunity!"
Shen Miao sighed and finally stopped walking. "What’s so special about it?"
"It’s a tremendous boon for you—and it even concerns your late parents! I, Yao Luoge, may be greedy, but I’d never lie about something like this. I swear on my life! Truer than gold itself!"
He was practically swearing oaths now. When Shen Miao still arched a skeptical brow, he glanced around shiftily, lowered his voice, and tugged at her sleeve. "Madam Shen, let’s speak privately, just a moment—"
After two unsuccessful tugs, he blinked in confusion and looked down—only to find Shen Miao’s hand already clasped in someone else’s. Following the arm upward, his gaze met the icy stare of an exceptionally tall man.
The fellow was so towering that Yao Luoge, in his haste, hadn’t even noticed him earlier, mistaking him for a wall.
"And this is…?" Yao Luoge chuckled awkwardly.
Shen Miao considered for a moment. Since they were practically engaged anyway, she answered without hesitation, "This is my husband."
The grip on her hand tightened instantly. In response, she hooked her pinky lightly against Xie Qi’s palm, a silent reassurance.
Yao Luoge froze, then erupted into exaggerated congratulations, spewing well-wishes smoother than a professional matchmaker: "Ah, I’d heard Madam Shen was to be wed! Seeing the groom today—truly, a golden steed paired with the moon’s fairy!"
Shen Miao raised her other hand with a smile. "Thank you for the kind words. We’ll invite you to the celebration later. Enough chatter here—let’s step outside. Many of my family and friends are there. Let me settle them and my belongings first, then we’ll talk."
Since Yao Luoge had mentioned her "parents," Shen Miao couldn’t simply brush him off.
Though Instructor Lin of the local garrison had once hinted that authorities were reinvestigating the three-year-old horse-ramming case, updates had since dried up. Shen Miao hadn’t pursued it further—partly because it was beyond her control, partly out of fear of stirring up dangerous trouble, and partly because she, Sister Xiang, and Ji Brother had gradually moved past that shadow. If they couldn’t change the world’s injustices, the least they could do was live quietly and well.
Helplessness was tragic, and giving up might seem cowardly, but was it wrong to choose survival?
Yao Luoge, delighted by her acquiescence, beamed like a crescent moon and bowed obsequiously. "Of course, of course! Madam Shen, take your time. I’ll wait respectfully nearby."
Shen Miao led Xie Qi away, nudging him onto a stool beside Aunt Gu. (He’d nearly stumbled at her "my husband" remark.) The children, armed with cymbals, tambourines, and flags, were already perched on the railing, ready to cheer for Gu Tusu and his son in the dragon boat race.
Tang Er and Fu Xing stood guard on either side like door gods, ensuring the excited youngsters didn’t topple into the river.
Neighbors from Willow Lane had brought their own stools, bought cheap tea and melon seeds from the stall, and now huddled around small tables, chatting and bursting into laughter intermittently. Tao had joined the aunties’ gossip circle, munching seeds with wide-eyed fascination, occasionally leaning in to ask, "Wait—who was it that drunkenly fell into the latrine?"
"Aunt Fang’s nephew. You’ve seen him—he ate at Shen’s Noodles last time. The one with the bald patch too big for his topknot."
Tao wrinkled her nose in disgust and rubbed her hands. She’d served him noodles!
The race hadn’t started yet, but both riverbanks were already packed, with barely room to stand. The prime riverside pavilions had been booked solid half a month prior, occupied mostly by wealthy merchants. Nobles and officials had their own private tents, draped in expensive gauze—far from the commoners’ cramped chaos.
Noon sunlight pierced the clouds, scattering gold shards across the water. In the distance, twelve painted dragon boats lined up like geese beneath the willows, poised for launch. Only bare-chested men wading in the water were loading drums onto the vessels; the rowers hadn’t boarded yet.
Shen Miao bent close to Xie Qi’s ear, her breath tickling him as she whispered, "I’ll go talk with Yao Luoge first. Keep Aunt Gu company for me, alright? I’ll be back soon."
Xie Qi’s ears tingled. He smiled and nodded. "Go ahead."
She smiled back, dumped the snacks she’d brought onto the table, exchanged pleasantries with the aunties, and entrusted Aunt Gu with watching the children and Xie Qi. Then she and Yao Luoge squeezed through the crowd to a quieter spot.
Xie Qi absently rubbed his ear, still warm from her breath, and kept glancing after Shen Miao’s retreating figure.
The tea stall was jam-packed—families here for the race, tea masters weaving through the throng with screeching copper kettles, peddlers hawking candied fruits, and vendors clacking bamboo clappers to sell chilled sweet dumplings from wooden chests slung around their necks.
Xie Qi half-rose from his seat amidst the bustling crowd, scanning through the sea of people for Shen Miao’s figure. Only when he spotted her standing by the railing in a corner with Yao Luoge did he let out a slight sigh of relief and settle back into his chair.
Aunt Gu had casually thrust a handful of sunflower seeds into his hands earlier. He stared at the fragrant, roasted seeds for a long moment before spreading them on his lap, using his robe as a cushion. With both hands, he began shelling them one by one, placing the kernels neatly on a handkerchief. Every few seeds, he’d glance anxiously toward the crowd.
His constant neck-craning and fidgeting even caught the attention of Aunt Gu, who was otherwise engrossed in a lively gossip exchange with the other aunties. She handed him a cup of tea and teased, “Eldest Sister isn’t going anywhere. Relax and enjoy your tea and snacks. Your eyes are practically glued to her—are you the reincarnation of a ‘longing-for-wife stone’ or something?”
Tao burst into laughter, nearly spitting out her tea, and quickly raised her cup to hide her grin.
Xie Qi flushed crimson but still couldn’t tear his gaze away, stealing furtive glances.
At home, Shen Miao’s eyes always carried warmth, her demeanor gentle and serene. But now, as she spoke with Yao Luoge, her expression was stern, even cold.
Xie Qi had always known that beneath Shen Miao’s soft exterior lay a strong, composed heart. Despite her youth, she carried herself as if she’d already seen through the world’s fickleness. Sometimes, when lost in thought, she wore this same detached expression—clear-eyed and resolute.
Whenever he saw her like this, even amid the clamor of the marketplace, everything around him seemed to fall silent.
This version of Shen Miao was breathtaking.
“Oh! Is it starting?” Aunt Gu suddenly leaped to her feet and rushed to the railing. “It’s starting!”
Sure enough, a wave of cheers erupted, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Boom, boom, boom—”
The drummers at the prows of the dragon boats swung their arms with full force, the rapid beats like a downpour. Twelve dragon boats shot forward like arrows. Gu Tusu, bare-chested with a five-colored silk sash around his waist, wielded a vermilion oar, cleaving through the water. The rowers roared in unison, their paddles slapping the surface, sending up sprays that shattered into countless glimmers under the sunlight.
“Second Brother Gu! I see him! The darkest one on the green dragon boat is Second Brother Gu!” Sister Xiang raised a pair of cymbals and clashed them wildly. “Go, Second Brother! Row faster!”
“Second Brother! Second Brother!”
“That pitch-black one is our Second Brother Gu!”
Chen Chuan blew a horn, Li Gou’er hammered a drum, and Yan Shu waved a flag. As Gu Tusu’s dragon boat sped past, Sister Xiang led the pack of little rascals in a deafening chorus, their voices nearly cracking from sheer enthusiasm.
Shen Miao and Yao Luoge spared only a glance at the racing dragon boats, their painted scales shimmering as if alive on the river’s surface. But neither paid much attention.
Their gazes returned to each other.
“Lady Shen, you may not yet know,” Yao Luoge began, sleeves folded as he leaned against the railing, “but the case concerning your parents’ deaths three years ago has finally been closed. The verdict was sealed at the Dali Temple two days ago.”
He continued, “The one who ordered the fatal collision back then was none other than the so-called ‘sworn brother’ of the Empress Dowager—now known as the Marquis of Lejiang. After a joint trial by the Three Judicial Offices, his sentence has been revised: stripped of title and rank, with his entire family exiled. Rumor has it the Emperor intends to use the confiscated wealth to compensate the families of the victims. An edict may arrive soon. For your family, this is some measure of justice.”
Yao Luoge bowed slightly. “During the late Emperor’s reign, no one dared touch this matter. Now, at least, there’s resolution. Though the dead cannot return, the truth is out. Your parents’ spirits may rest. For that, I offer my congratulations.”
Shen Miao remained silent. Her lips curled into a cold smile as she stared at the river crowded with competing boats.
Three years too late to play the righteous judge. Where were they back then?
If her parents’ spirits truly lingered, knowing their real Eldest Sister had died in Jinling, and that Ji Brother and Sister Xiang had once been tormented by their own kin until they cowered in ruins—they’d probably return as vengeful ghosts.
She exhaled a humorless laugh and met Yao Luoge’s eyes. “Such secrets, yet not a whisper in the streets. The palace must’ve sealed this tightly. How did you hear of it?”
The dragon boat drums vibrated the nearby tea table. Yao Luoge wiped sweat from his beard and lowered his voice. “Men have their ways, rats have theirs. Trust me on this. As for why you’ve heard nothing—those in power wanted it hushed. Think about it: the Marquis of Lejiang isn’t just anyone. For the Empress Dowager’s dignity, even the arrest was discreet. But nothing stays buried forever. Every major brokerage knows the Marchioness Lejiang is desperately selling a dozen of her dowry shops. Why else would she?”
He smirked. “Believe it or not, but mark my words: the Marquis will likely get some hollow title like ‘Registrar of Yazhou,’ and the family will leave the capital ‘with dignity.’ In truth, imperial guards will escort them straight to exile in Yazhou—under permanent watch, never to return.”
Shen Miao’s eyes flickered.
He’d been rambling about her parents’ case with unsettling familiarity. Regardless of his sources, realization dawned on her. She cut in sharply, “The owner of Kangji’s two-story building—it’s not…”
“Sharp as ever, Lady Shen.” Yao Luoge stroked his beard. “One of the Marchioness’s dowry properties. A wife’s assets aren’t subject to confiscation. With the title gone and exile looming, she’s liquidating everything for ready coin.”
“She’s desperate—doesn’t care about losses, just wants cash fast. Only accepts silver on the spot.” Yao Luoge wiped his brow. “She’s listed a score of properties with multiple brokerages. First to sell gets the contract. Lady Shen, this is a golden opportunity!”
Shen Miao pondered, eyes glinting. “How much?”
“Two thousand five hundred strings.”
Now it made sense.
No wonder Yao Luoge sought her out so urgently.
The price was tempting.
But given her understanding of Yao Luoge’s cunning nature—hmph!—this definitely wasn’t the lowest price! She still remembered how he’d swindled Ninth Brother out of his money back then. Moreover, since this was an urgent sale and required full payment upfront, it would naturally weed out many merchants who relied on temple loans.
Shen Miao didn’t hold back either.
"Two thousand strings of cash," Shen Miao narrowed her eyes. "If you can bring the price down, I’ll sign the contract immediately—cash in hand, paid in full the same day."
Yao Luoge stared at Shen Miao, and Shen Miao stared right back.
"Deal," Yao Luoge gritted his teeth, wiping the fine sweat beading on his forehead. "I’m heading straight to the Marchioness Lejiang’s residence!"
The Marchioness Lejiang’s sudden decision to sell off her dowry had sent shockwaves through the brokerage circles, with every agent eyeing this lucrative opportunity. Naturally, Yao Luoge was in a hurry too!
Fortunately, his capable young nephew had passed the imperial examinations last year and secured an eighth-rank position as a clerk in the Court of Judicial Review, where he’d handled some minor details of this very case. After a private family discussion, Yao Luoge had pieced everything together.
That’s why he’d come straight to Shen Miao.
There were no secrets under the sun—it was just that most people hadn’t caught wind of the news yet. Otherwise, this shop wouldn’t have stayed on the market for long. Even the 2,500 strings he’d quoted was already below market value.
But Yao Luoge was determined to be the first broker to close the deal. Other agencies were already scrambling, reaching out to their merchant contacts to gauge interest. He couldn’t afford delays. If such a big deal slipped through his fingers and another broker snatched it up, his reputation as the top agent in Bianjing would be ruined.
"Madam Shen, wait for my good news," Yao Luoge promised with a quick bow before rushing off.
Shen Miao watched his retreating figure, her eyes gleaming with shrewdness. She could tell their interests aligned—not just because of the broker’s hefty commission, but also for the sake of his own reputation. This time, he’d surely help her drive the price down in time.
Outside the tea shed, a deafening cheer erupted as twelve dragon boats, their green flags fluttering, surged past the colorful silk ribbons stretched across the river. The roar of spectators on both banks nearly lifted the roof off the shed. Some gambling tables in the festooned pavilions were piled high with wagers on the race, and now they erupted in jubilant shouts.
Shen Miao hurried back to ask, "Who won? Did Second Brother Gu take first place?"
Aunt Gu was too busy laughing and bouncing with the children to answer.
Xie Qi grinned. "They took the championship! I heard the prize is dozens of strings of cash."
Shen Miao gasped in delight. "Second Brother Gu is that good? Well, he and Uncle Gu have always been strong!" She quickly went to congratulate Aunt Gu, playfully leaning against her and coaxing, "Auntie, with such wonderful news, you’ve got to treat us today. Let’s celebrate properly!"
"Who’d have thought they’d win? Two of their rowers fell ill, so our boys were practically dragged into it—and ended up the most impressive! Never imagined this would happen!" Aunt Gu was so overjoyed she teared up, pulling Shen Miao into a tight hug. "Of course, of course! How about we make merry at your shop? I’ll foot the bill—let’s invite all the neighbors and bring over the wine from my house. We must drink our fill tonight!"
"Perfect! Let’s head home and get everything ready!" Shen Miao beamed. "Yu Xun mentioned his winter carp have grown plump. Since we’re in such high spirits, how about we make a big stew?"
"Eldest Sister, do you have another brilliant idea?"
"Have you ever tried suguo? It’s a hearty dish from Linzi, usually eaten in winter—stewed pork belly, trotters, carp, kelp, tofu, cabbage, and lotus root, slow-cooked until tender and rich in flavor. But who says we can’t enjoy it anytime we’re happy?"
"The way you describe it, even the kids are drooling." Aunt Gu glanced down—Sister Xiang and Yan Shu were already swallowing hard. She covered her mouth, laughing. "Let’s hurry back and prepare a feast for everyone tonight."
By evening, the neighbors had all gathered at the Shen household.
The sky was ink-black, the night thick and clear, the Milky Way arching overhead like a spilled river of stars, so low they seemed ready to tumble onto the tiled roofs.
Two red silk lanterns swayed in the courtyard, casting warm light over the three large jars of plum wine placed by the square table. Before the jars were even opened, Liu Douhua’s father and Li Tiaozi were already slapping their bellies and belting out bawdy tunes from the entertainment quarters. Gu Dalang tapped his chopsticks against a bowl, trying to join in but failing miserably to find the tune.
Nearby, Grandpa Zeng, his beard streaked with white, was solemnly having his palm read by Ge Shengun. "How many more years do I have left?" he asked nervously.
Ge Shengun stroked his chin. "Are you seventy yet?"
"Next year."
"Ah, not much longer then. Thirty more at most." Ge Shengun shook his head regretfully.
Grandpa Zeng blinked, then burst into laughter. "You—you’re no proper Taoist!"
"Hey, don’t dismiss it. Every word’s true."
Meanwhile, Sister Xiang led a parade of children (including the towering Youyu) around the courtyard, each waving a bamboo dragon boat and shouting, "Dragon boat race! Dragon boat race!"
Even Thunder and Qilin joined the chase, the house bubbling with noise like a boiling pot—except for Eleventh Young Master in the donkey shed, peacefully munching hay in his toad-shaped hat, occasionally snorting in contentment.
With Youyu playing outside, Xie Qi was left tending the kitchen fire.
Rolling up his sleeves, he diligently fed the flames and worked the bellows, his face and hands smudged with soot. Shen Miao and the aunts were busy preparing the stew when she turned and burst out laughing—there he was, a proper soot-streaked "tabby cat" squatting by the stove.
Aunt Gu walked in with three crisp cabbages in her arms. The kitchen was hazy with steam. "Eldest Sister, where should I put these?"
"Just hand them to me! Aunt Liu, could you fry some tofu cubes for me?"
"Of course, that’s my specialty."
"Aunt Fang, slice some bamboo shoots. Oh—Granny Zeng, be careful with that lotus root! The knife’s sharp, don’t cut yourself..."
As she spoke, Shen Miao layered cabbage at the bottom of the earthen pot. Once Aunt Fang had sliced the shoots, she arranged them like jade-green veins over the leaves, followed by layers of tofu, fried carp, and other ingredients. Suddenly, a voice piped up outside the window: "Sister Shen, guess who I am!" It was Bao of the Gu Family, waving a freshly woven mugwort dragon boat toward the stove.
Wiping her brow with a sleeve tie, Shen Miao plucked a date cake from the steamer and popped it into Bao’s mouth, pretending to ponder deeply. "Hmm... I think you’re Di!"
A round little head immediately popped up beneath the window, hands proudly planted on hips as he tilted his head up and declared, "Wrong guess! Wrong guess! I'm Di!"
Shen Miao suppressed a laugh and popped a treat into his mouth. "Alright, off you go to play now!"
She then turned back to continue guiding the aunts in preparing the suguo.
In Shandong, there's a saying: "Suguo for the poor, suguo for the rich." Aside from Zibo barbecue, suguo might just be the most famous local dish, wouldn't you say?
Suguo is actually best made in winter, when the cabbage is at its sweetest. Every household has its own unique recipe for suguo, with slight variations in ingredients, but it always includes cabbage, kelp, tofu, lotus root, pork trotters, and fish. The rest depends on what the family enjoys.
The preparation is quite simple. Place a bamboo mat at the bottom of the pot, then layer cabbage followed by other ingredients, stacking them up until the pot is nearly full. Next, stand large cabbage leaves vertically around the edges of the pot and pour in the remaining ingredients.
Prepare a sauce with scallion segments, ginger slices, minced garlic, and assorted spices, then pour it into the pot. No additional water is needed—the cabbage will release its own sweet juices, which are more than enough.
At this point, the lid won't fit, but as the cabbage slowly softens and collapses, the lid can be placed on. Let it simmer gently for about two hours, and it's ready to eat.
As Shen Miao and the aunts chatted and worked, Xie Qi remained so quiet and focused on tending the fire that Sister-in-law Gu and Aunt Gu gradually forgot there was even a man present and began joking around again, their laughter turning a bit risqué.
By the time Shen Miao was laughing so hard she nearly toppled over, she suddenly noticed Xie Qi frozen stiff by the stove, his entire face flushed red.
She cleared her throat, pretending she hadn’t been laughing at all, and quietly went to check on the suguo.
It was already around 8 p.m. The cabbage leaves lining the pot had long since softened, and the lid had been on for half an hour, filling the air with its rich aroma.
Lifting the lid revealed a bubbling amber broth—kelp plump with meat juices, tofu puffed up like golden ingots, carp stewed to tender perfection, pork hocks so soft they melted at the touch of chopsticks, and a medley of sweet, sour, and savory vegetables infused with fragrant sesame oil...
The aunts crowded around, gazing at the pot brimming with tender, flavorful ingredients—each vegetable and meat soaked in the rich broth, distinct yet harmoniously blended. The rising aroma was so intoxicating that for a moment, no one spoke.
After a while, Xie Qi helped Shen Miao carry the suguo out, and as the wind caught its scent, the fragrance wafted through the entire courtyard. The men outside, drawn by the smell, gathered around to look. Even Ge Shengun couldn’t resist, swallowing his drool as he pretended to calculate an auspicious time to open the pot.
Gu Tusu, meanwhile, had already silently crouched down to uncork a jar of wine.
Amid the lively scene, hurried footsteps suddenly echoed from the alley. Yao Luoge burst in, drenched in sweat, panting heavily as he braced his hands on his knees—yet his eyes locked intently on Shen Miao, who stood surprised among the crowd.
"Lady Shen," he gasped, "I've settled the deal!"
