August arrived, yet the heat remained relentless.
Tonight, it was Ye Yunniang’s turn to keep watch during the late hours.
Having spent enough time with him, Ye Yunniang knew Jiang Tingjun’s usual waking times at night, allowing her to steal brief moments of rest in between.
But the night was unbearably hot, making sleep impossible.
The fan in her hand fluttered incessantly, yet it brought no relief.
Ye Yunniang walked to the window and pushed it halfway open, savoring the faint breeze that drifted in.
A soft sigh of contentment escaped her lips as she basked in the cool air—until her ears caught the faint rustling from the bed.
She turned to find Jiang Tingjun awake.
“Little master, you’re up,” Ye Yunniang murmured, checking the cloth wrapped around him as she spoke.
He had wet himself. With practiced ease, she changed his diaper, then lifted him, intending to sit by the bed to nurse him.
But the heat was stifling.
Thinking no one would be around at this hour, she moved to the window instead, cradling Jiang Tingjun as she fed him.
A tender smile touched her lips as she watched him drink hungrily.
Then, abruptly, she felt it—a gaze, intense and piercing, fixed upon her.
Startled, she whipped her head toward the window.
Nothing. Yet the sensation lingered, an unseen presence watching her.
Her hands trembled as she hastily shut the window, her face paling.
Sensing her distress, Jiang Tingjun’s face scrunched up, and he began to cry.
Ye Yunniang patted him gently, whispering, “Hush now, little one, don’t cry. It’s this foolish nursemaid’s fault for frightening you. Shh, shh…”
Her heart raced, the dread clinging to her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been outside.
Guilt gnawed at her—why had she been so careless, so greedy for a moment’s relief?
Sleep abandoned her entirely. She endured the remaining two hours of her watch in tense wakefulness.
By dawn, the household stirred to life, and Ding Fang arrived.
“Did the little master fuss last night?”
“Yes, he cried for a while,” Ye Yunniang replied, handing Jiang Tingjun over before retreating, exhaustion weighing on her.
Back in Zhiyu Pavilion, she exchanged brief greetings with the early-rising Chunyao and Shi Liu before retreating to her room.
Yet rest eluded her. Lying in bed, she wished Cai Damei were there to offer counsel.
She tossed and turned, her mind restless.
Meanwhile, in Heqing Courtyard, Jiang Mingzhe dismissed his attendant after receiving a report.
He sought out Jiang Mingrui for a private discussion, taking the secluded path he often used—a narrow trail behind the courtyards leading straight to Jiang Mingrui’s study.
But as he emerged from the path, he was met with a sight that struck him like lightning.
A woman, radiating quiet grace, nursing a child. The intimate scene, the way the infant suckled—it was overwhelming. Jiang Mingzhe froze, his gaze locked on her.
His stare burned too intensely; she sensed it.
But he stood in the shadows, and she couldn’t see him.
The lamplight from inside illuminated her startled expression—her wide, doe-like eyes, the delicate arch of her brows, the elegant slope of her nose, lips naturally rosy…
The sharp snap of the window closing jolted him back to his senses. How had he been so transfixed?
His steps were uncharacteristically hurried as he continued to the study, his mind now far from the matters he’d come to discuss. The meeting ended abruptly, and when he passed by the same spot later, the window was tightly shut.
Returning to Heqing Courtyard, Jiang Mingzhe summoned Qingmo and inquired about the nursemaid in Fanghua Courtyard.
Though Qingmo worked in the front quarters, he knew everything about the household.
Soon, Jiang Mingzhe learned the woman he’d seen was Ye Yunniang.
For two days, Ye Yunniang waited anxiously, but when nothing happened, she convinced herself it had been her imagination.
Now, seated in the courtyard with Chunyao, she stitched quietly, their soft chatter filling the air.
Jiang Tingjun liked the clothes made by Ye Yunniang. Fourth Madam Jiang had Zi Yuan bring over some fabric and instructed Ye Yunniang to make two more outfits for Jiang Tingjun.
Upon examining the fabric, Ye Yunniang estimated it could easily yield four sets of garments.
"The extra is naturally a reward from the mistress," Chunyao remarked as she carefully guided her needle.
She stitched with great caution, afraid of pricking her fingers.
"Ouch!" Chunyao sucked in a sharp breath, sticking her injured finger into her mouth—yet another prick.
"Sister Chunyao, perhaps I should mend this for you," Ye Yunniang offered, watching as Chunyao managed to prick herself six times in less than fifteen minutes. She had never seen anyone so inept at sewing.
"Yunniang, thank you so much!" Chunyao handed over the undergarment she had accidentally torn open.
Ye Yunniang set aside her own needlework, took the garment, and began stitching with swift precision.
The needle that had felt like a thousand pounds in Chunyao’s hands danced effortlessly between Ye Yunniang’s fingers.
"Done." Ye Yunniang returned the mended garment to Chunyao.
Taking the perfectly repaired piece, Chunyao sighed. "Yunniang, I envy your skill. Why are my hands so clumsy?" She smacked her own hand in frustration.
"Everyone has their strengths. When it comes to food, I could never match you. This morning’s chicken noodle soup—I couldn’t even tell it had been watered down," Ye Yunniang admitted, genuinely impressed.
Chunyao could discern every ingredient, freshness, and cooking method just by tasting a dish.
At the mention of food, Chunyao brightened. "This tongue of mine? Even master chefs covet it. When I was little, the head chef in the estate wanted to take me on as his apprentice!"
Her expression dimmed slightly. "But my mother refused. She said no respectable girl should spend her days covered in kitchen grime—how would she ever marry?"
She shrugged. "Still, things worked out. If I couldn’t be a chef, I’d marry one instead. Now he cooks for me every day."
"Is your husband the estate’s chef?" Ye Yunniang asked curiously.
"Chef Jin—did I never tell you?"
Ye Yunniang shook her head.
"Let me explain."
Chunyao shared her story: her parents were both lifelong servants of the Jiang family. She had grown up within the estate and, at ten, was assigned to the fourth master’s courtyard as a cleaning maid.
When she came of age, she married the son of the very chef who had once wanted to apprentice her—Chef Jin. They now had two sons and a daughter.
When Fourth Madam Jiang gave birth to Jiang Tingjun, the two wet nurses originally arranged for him met with misfortune. Chunyao, having just weaned her own child, was chosen to nurse the young master instead.
"Next month, I’ll finally return home to care for my little girl," Chunyao said abruptly, catching Ye Yunniang off guard.
"Sister Chunyao, you’re leaving?"
Chunyao nodded. "I only came to Fanghua Courtyard because the young master needed a wet nurse in an emergency. Now that you and Ding Fang can manage, Shi Liu and I must return to our original duties."
"What? Sister Shi Liu is leaving too?" Ye Yunniang was even more startled.
"Her husband, Chen Chang’an, serves under the second master. He’s been assigned as a shop manager in Nanzhou, and Shi Liu was supposed to accompany him. She only stayed because of the young master."
"Sister Chunyao… I’ll miss you." The thought of both Chunyao and Shi Liu leaving filled Ye Yunniang with an unexpected pang of unease.
"I'm only leaving Zhiyu Pavilion, not the Jiang residence. We'll have chances to meet again," Chunyao reassured Ye Yunniang.
Though the words were comforting, Ye Yunniang couldn’t even leave Zhiyu Pavilion—how could they possibly see each other again?
A heavy gloom settled in Ye Yunniang’s heart, stealing her appetite. She barely touched her meal.
When Li'er came to clear the dishes, she noticed half the food still untouched on the table.
"What’s wrong, Sister Ye?"
