Chapter 376 Return

Chapter 376: Return

Ge Quan was one of Meng Wan's people, so naturally he wouldn't make things difficult for Zhao Yuan. The atmosphere between the two families was harmonious. Betrothal gifts were stacked from the Ge family's front courtyard all the way to the back. When the long gift list was handed to Fang Jinrong, his eyes went blurry from all that reading. When Huang Ye read the list out loud, he could barely keep up before he had to tap out.

The Ge place only had a gatekeeper and a cook. The few servants currently working in the residence were borrowed from Nie Zhiyao just to save face.

Zhao Yuan handled the formalities with Ge Quan, handing over the sealed birth records and marriage contract documents. "These are the birth records and marriage contract of both families. Please take a look and keep these on file, Lord Ge."

Ge Quan wasn't much of a reader, so after a quick glance, he handed them to Fang Jinrong.

Fang Jinrong: "!!!" He hadn't even finished reading the previous document, and now he had to look at another marriage contract?

Ge Quan cleared his throat and recited the lines he'd crammed the night before. "Ahem, the Song family's generosity and proper etiquette are deeply appreciated. I'm truly grateful. The eldest son of the Song family, Song Ci, is a great match for my nephew. They're a perfect match, and this joins our two families together."

The hard part of the betrothal was all the prep work beforehand. Once the gifts were delivered, the whole thing was basically wrapped up. Zhao Yuan had half a cup of tea at the Ge place before heading out with his crew.

Once the Song family left, the courtyard full of betrothal gifts was out in the open for everyone to see, making them seem even more numerous.

The commoners who had gathered at the door to watch had overheard fragments of conversation and whispered among themselves, not caring about the official's rank.

"The Ge family? That's a military official's house, right?"

"I heard they work in the palace and get to see the emperor!"

"His nephew's getting married? That's a bit of a mismatch. A proper daughter of the house would be a better fit for the Song family."

"Exactly. Even if the Song kid is adopted, they're treating him like a real son of the house. Look at those big trunks—are those all silver?"

"Several chests? Didn't you hear the recitation earlier? All eighteen carriers are packed with gold, silver, and jewels!"

"Holy cow, that's insane. That's gotta be tens of thousands of taels of silver!"

"An adopted son's wedding with tens of thousands in betrothal gifts? God above!"

Those numbers were so huge, regular folks couldn't even wrap their heads around them.

Ge Quan had a headache just looking at all the gifts piled up in the yard. He grabbed Fang Jinrong, who was trying to make a run for it. "Which ones did Wan Geer say are for A Xun's dowry, and which ones are for when he comes back after the wedding?"

Fang Jinrong turned back and glared at him. "How would I know?"

His face was sharp and bright, and when he glared, the corners of his eyes pulled wide, making him look even younger and more innocent. The second Ge Quan met his eyes, his tone went soft. "Then... then just give me the list, and I'll look it over myself."

---

"Finally, the job's done."

Zhao Yuan led his people back and handed Chu Ci a smooth green jade peace pendant. Dangling below it was a little medicine pouch, this one holding an antidote A Xun had made. Looked like the young couple had planned it out—even their gifts to each other were basically the same.

"Thanks for making the trip, big brother. When Xiao Ci gets married, you and sister-in-law must come early." Meng Wan felt a load off his mind. Now all that was left was getting ready for the wedding on the eighteenth of the third month.

Chu Ci clipped the peace pendant to his belt right away, then went out to see Zhao Yuan off. Song Tingzhou wasn't home, and the other guy wasn't planning to stick around—he rarely got a day off and wanted to get home to his kid.

The Song household had a few easy days. Meng Wan handed out bonuses and gave the servants time off. Everyone was all smiles, knowing their master was generous. Whatever they got today was just today's bonus—when the eldest young master tied the knot, there'd definitely be another round of handouts.

"Don't do a thing for the next few days. Just hang out in my room and keep me company. Otherwise, when my mom and Jin Gu get back and see how worn out you are, they'll be worried sick." Meng Wan pushed Huang Ye down onto an embroidered stool by the fire and sat down beside him, grabbed an orange that had been roasted to a golden brown by the stove, and handed it to him.

Huang Ye caught the orange with a napkin. He ate half of it but still couldn't sit still. "Master, I'm not sure we have enough red silk. I should check the storeroom, and if we're low, we need to buy more ASAP."

Meng Wan warmed his hands by the fire while roasting chestnuts. "Can't Gui Qian take care of that?"

"Gui Qian's been taking it easy too these last couple days." Huang Ye still felt antsy, like a mountain of work was waiting for him.

Meng Wan chuckled softly. "Have I been running you ragged? If you still listen to me, take a real break. Don't do anything—just eat and drink with me."

When he had downtime, the house felt too quiet, so this was a good chance to help Huang Ye get his strength back.

Gu Zhiru had previously been fond of sending invitations to visit Meng Wan—either to have him critique her paintings, listen to his insights about Lingnan, or borrow travel journals to read. The more she heard, the more she yearned for the outside world. Her disastrous engagement with Qin Jiao had long been cast to the winds.

Recently, because the Song family had been busy, Gu Zhiru hadn't visited in some time. Well-bred young ladies from aristocratic families were always so considerate and perceptive.

Meng Wan sent her an invitation. Together with Fang Jinrong, who was bored out of his mind, and Huang Ye, who was on forced rest, the four of them gathered around a table in the warm pavilion to play mahjong.

"This round, Huang Ye draws first." Fang Jinrong rubbed his hands together eagerly and flipped over the top tile of the draw pile. "Bamboo suit—who has the highest bamboo tile?"

Gu Zhiru picked up a raisin and, after drawing her eight tiles, examined her hand and pulled out a Nine of Bamboo. "I have it."

"Five Wan."

"Put it down! I'm matching pairs."

The charcoal brazier in the warm pavilion burned brightly, and the faint fragrance of pine soot drifted from the main hall into the pavilion. The octagonal table was covered with a cotton pad, and the four sat on pearwood round stools. On the kang by the wall, a small table held teacups and fruit plates, while snacks were within easy reach on the card table as well.

Nie Zhiyao had been busy without a moment's rest before and after the new year. When he finally had some free time and walked in, he saw them all leisurely playing cards and nearly laughed in exasperation. "Well, well—you lot are having a fine time while I'm born to be a workhorse?"

Zhifan, who had followed him in, hurried to fetch a stool, but Nie Zhiyao waved him off and sat himself on the kang to pour some tea.

Meng Wan dismissed Zhifan and said to Nie Zhiyao with a smile, "The capable do more work. Ru Niang and I are counting on you to earn us our dividends."

Gu Zhiru laughed at that. She held a ten percent share in the Cotton Mill and submitted a few design sketches each month. She knew this was Meng Wan's way of giving her some spending money, and she felt a bit embarrassed about it. But both Nie Zhiyao and Meng Wan insisted she deserved it. Every month, they sent someone to the Gu residence to deliver her share—a considerable sum that, within just a few months, exceeded all the private savings she had accumulated before.

Nie Zhiyao had probably just come from the Cotton Mill and hadn't eaten lunch yet. He shot Meng Wan a look, then sat himself on the kang and helped himself to tea and pastries.

"Zhifan, is the hot pot ready outside? Add another set of utensils and let's eat." The round ended, and everyone cleared the table. They had been playing since morning and were tired by now.

Meng Wan pulled Nie Zhiyao out of the warm pavilion. "Don't fill up on pastries—come outside and have some hot pot."

Hot pot already existed in this era, though without the seasoned broth base. Thinly sliced meat was marinated beforehand and then swished in boiling water—that was called a warm pot.

In his previous life, Meng Wan preferred light flavors, but when it came to hot pot, he loved spicy food. After several years, his craving for a red-oil hot pot had reached its peak, but he couldn't stand the bitter, medicinal, sour taste of cornelian pepper.

He had once asked Third Uncle Zhu to search for chili pepper seeds, but to no avail. However, Chen Zhenlong had apparently brought back chili pepper seeds from Luzon this time—though whether it was true remained uncertain.

Meng Wan didn't dare secretly keep any. A basket of sweet potatoes was already overstepping bounds; there was no need to court trouble over food. If it was true, he could simply ask the emperor for some seeds this year.

"Zhiyao loves orange juice—bring out a few more bottles." Meng Wan called out to Zhimao, who had just reached the doorway.

Gu Zhiru washed her hands and sat by the stove. Steam billowed from the copper pot, and the rich aroma of milky white bone broth wafted out, making one involuntarily swallow.

On the nearby table were several kinds of vegetables, plates of paper-thin meat slices, rehydrated mountain mushrooms, tender white tofu, and plump, delicate shrimp balls and fish balls.

Meng Wan prepared a dipping sauce for Nie Zhiyao first, feigning concern. "Eat up quickly—you look like you're about to faint from hunger."

"If you truly cared about me, you'd come to the Cotton Mill and help me out for a change." Nie Zhiyao scooped out two slices of meat with his ladle, placed them on the plate before him, then leisurely picked them up with chopsticks and dipped them in his sauce.

Hmm? Why was it so delicious!

"Don't think I'm idle just because I've had a few easy days—I'll be busy preparing Xiao Ci's wedding in a couple of days." Meng Wan distributed the dipping sauces to Gu Zhiru and Fang Jinrong, then instructed Huang Ye and Zhifan to go eat as well, saying no attendants were needed here.

Various ingredients had been dropped into the bubbling pot. Gu Zhiru fished out a few fish balls and some greens. "Is there anything I can help with at the Cotton Mill?"

"The foremen I've promoted are all very capable, so I won't be as busy from now on."

In truth, the Cotton Mill had already settled into a steady rhythm, far less chaotic than before the new year. Nie Zhiyao was merely teasing Meng Wan in return.

Moreover, Gu Zhiru was different from ordinary women or young men. Her father was a Grand Secretary of the Cabinet, and as the legitimate daughter of the Gu family, she held a distinguished status. In Shengjing, where the Lingnan customs regarding xiaoge and women hadn't spread, it wouldn't be proper for her to fuss over the mill like a mere steward. Both Meng Wan and Nie Zhiyao were well aware of this.

"Perfect, since you have free time, you can help me prepare for the wedding."

"Master Meng, you really don't hold back, do you?"

"Ah, we're all family—why be so formal?"

The two kept bickering even while eating, whereas Fang Jinrong, usually so lively, was quietly focused on devouring his meal.

Meng Wan sensed something off. "Rong Geer, how's your family's cook's cooking?" His future son-in-law was still at the Ge household—he didn't want the boy to lose weight before the wedding!

Fang Jinrong wasn't a big eater, but Meng Wan's meals always tasted better than anywhere else. He took a sip of the cool, refreshing orange juice and said, "It's okay, I guess."

Okay, what's that supposed to mean?

Meng Wan nearly scalded his lips on the tofu in his mouth. "Slaughter all those pigs and sheep we brought for the betrothal and eat them. When you go home, take two of my cooks with you."

Nie Zhiyao immediately caught on to his plan and couldn't help but chuckle. Wan Geer really was an exemplary father. If only Fei Geer could marry into the Song family one day, he'd never have to worry again—but unfortunately, Meng Wan had no such intention.

The meal was lively and stretched well past noon. Afterward, Meng Wan was going to take a nap. Gu Zhiru borrowed a travel book and left first, followed by Nie Zhiyao, and then Fang Jinrong, who took the cooks with him.

Meng Wan brushed his teeth, rinsed, and changed into soap-scented undergarments before getting into bed.

Half-asleep, he sensed someone sitting beside him, speaking in a deliberately hushed, gentle woman's voice. "He hasn't lost weight. Gained some, and he's fairer too."

Meng Wan tried to open his eyes but couldn't. He murmured vaguely, "Mother?"

"Sleep."

"Keep your voices down. Let him rest well."

When Meng Wan woke up, his body still felt heavy. His first instinct was to call out, "Huang Ye!"

Zhifan and Zhi Mao rushed in from the outer room. "Husband, Steward Huang is in the back courtyard!"

"Is the old lady back?" Meng Wan sat up and quickly got dressed.

Zhi Mao was surprised. "How did you know, Husband? The old lady came back half an hour ago, took a look at the main courtyard, and went back to rest."

A hint of joy spread across Meng Wan's face. He smiled and said, "I heard her talking while I was asleep. Is she feeling well? Did she catch a chill? Is the underfloor heating in the back courtyard warm? Did they light extra charcoal braziers?"

His rapid-fire questions left Zhi Mao stumped, until Huang Ye lifted the curtain and answered, "Don't worry, Husband, everything's been arranged. The old lady isn't asleep yet—would you like to go see her?"

Though the weather had warmed up recently, mornings and evenings were still chilly. Meng Wan reached for the collarless cloak draped over the screen and said without hesitation, "Let's go."

Chang Jinhua's attendants had all returned with her—Jin Gu, Wei Ying, Yunque, and others—bringing the back courtyard to life again. Meng Wan crossed the corridor and went straight to Chang Jinhua's room.

Wei Ying held the curtain open for Meng Wan and called softly inside, "Old Lady, the young master is here."

Chang Jinhua had changed into fresh clothes and was leaning against the kang, covered with a thin quilt. On the kang table sat a bowl of ginger soup, now cold, which she'd had when she first got back.

"Mother, the official road must have been rough. Why didn't you stay a few days along the way?" Meng Wan shed his cloak and shoes, climbed onto the kang, and asked affectionately.

Chang Jinhua looked a bit worn out and couldn't sleep. "How could roadside inns ever compare to home? If it hadn't been for the heavy snow delaying us a few days, we'd have gotten here much sooner."

Meng Wan handed the ginger soup to Wei Ying, telling her to swap it for a pot of hot tea. "There's still a month to go. Even if you'd come a few days later, it would've been okay."

Chang Jinhua disagreed. "How could that do? For an occasion like this, I had to come back early. The Miao people aren't in Shengjing, and since they've entrusted their child to us, we must treat him well."

Chu Ci stepped through the door, catching Chang Jinhua's words. His eyes softened. He entered, bowed to Chang Jinhua and Meng Wan, then took her pulse. His slender hand rested on the table, fingers touching her slightly cool wrist, his brow furrowing slightly.

"What's wrong? Has she caught a chill?" Meng Wan asked anxiously. He'd noticed her lips looked pale and she seemed listless.

Chu Ci nodded, withdrawing his hand to sign, "She has indeed caught a slight chill. I'll prescribe two doses of medicine for Grandmother, and with a few days of careful care, she'll be fine."

Wei Ying hurried to fetch paper and brush for Chu Ci to write the prescription.

Chang Jinhua sighed softly. "I'm getting old and useless. With all these people looking after me on the road, I still fell ill."

Meng Wan couldn't bear to hear her say such things, a dull ache in his heart. "Even a strong man in his twenties or thirties catches a cold or two every year. With Xiao Ci here, this minor ailment will clear up in a few days. We've got a happy occasion coming up next month."

Chang Jinhua put on a stern face. "I was just making a passing remark, and now you're scolding me."

Meng Wan wasn't intimidated at all. He playfully retorted, "Hmph, Mother, don't you know I'm the head of this household now? Everything here goes by my word, doesn't it?"

A smile tugged at Chang Jinhua's lips, and she scolded him with a laugh, "You dare say that? Look how you've run Huang Ye ragged—Jin Gu's heart is aching for him!"