The first New Year Qi Yue experienced in this ancient setting had arrived. After the initial three days packed with elaborate ancestral rites and complicated household greetings, things would finally ease up.

On the eighth day, the West Residence invited the Marquis's wife and husband over for a visit—a sort of aunt hosting her younger relatives. By the time they left the Second Madam’s rooms in the West Residence, the sky was pitch black, yet everywhere hung bright red lanterns and streamers, shimmering beautifully in response to the dark.

“It’s snowing,” Qi Yue said, looking up at the sky where flakes were drifting down in a flurry.

“Put on your hat,” A’ru said, taking the umbrella opened by the small maid.

“No need, I’m not cold,” Qi Yue replied, lifting a hand to feel the snowflakes dissolve on her face.

Over there... it must be nearing New Year too, right? No, it was already close to the New Year when she first arrived; it had been over half a year now.

With one person missing from home, her parents must have spent this New Year feeling terribly lonely...

The snowflakes were now blocked by the umbrella, and simultaneously, someone placed a hat on her head.

“You’ve been drinking; be careful not to catch a chill,” Chang Yuncheng said. “You’re a physician yourself, yet you don't even know that.”

Qi Yue pouted slightly.

“It’s not that easy to catch a cold,” she argued, though she didn't remove the hat.

A cold? Was that the term she used for feng han (wind-cold)?

Chang Yuncheng said nothing, but watching the woman, noticing she wasn't deliberately provoking him as she might have before, a faint smile touched the corner of his mouth.

“Elder Brother is so thoughtful to Eldest Sister-in-law,” Chang Yinglan, who had escorted them out, laughed.

There was no such thing!

Qi Yue turned back to give her a glance and managed a dry laugh.

“Then I am relieved,” Chang Yinglan chirped. “Eldest Sister-in-law, when you’re free next month, will you teach me how to make a couple of your signature dishes?”

“Of course, learning that is a good thing too,” Qi Yue replied with a smile, studying the girl. This young woman seemed to be entering match-making season. She leaned in and lowered her voice, “There’s an old saying: capture a man’s stomach, and you capture his heart. If you cook delicious things for your husband in the future, he will certainly be very pleased.”

This sort of topic was quite embarrassing for a young girl, especially since everyone in the household now knew she was being considered for marriage. The New Year visits and various banquets were prime times for discussing the marriage prospects of one's children. Chang Yinglan had been diligently lectured and coached by the Second Madam and the older maids recently. Hearing Qi Yue bring it up now, she instantly blushed and stamped her foot.

“Eldest Sister-in-law, you’re teasing me too,” she said, shaking Qi Yue’s arm, then snorted, glancing at Chang Yuncheng, who was clearly leaning in to listen to their conversation. “Then Elder Brother must eat the meals you cook often.”

Qi Yue laughed heartily and poked her forehead playfully.

“Alright, hurry back now. I’ll come visit in a few days,” she said cheerfully.

The covered passageway between the East and West Mansions was also hung with lanterns. The serving women ahead and behind carried lamps, maintaining a respectful distance from Chang Yuncheng and Qi Yue, who walked side by side in the center.

“What good food can you actually make? Don’t teach the younger sister the wrong things,” Chang Yuncheng suddenly remarked.

Qi Yue glanced at him dismissively.

“Are you looking down on me?” she countered.

Chang Yuncheng nodded.

“Seeing how ravenous you were eating everything on the street, I know you haven’t tasted much good food. You can cook? I highly doubt it,” he stated.

“Oh, challenging me, are we...” Qi Yue looked at him and smiled, then pointed a finger, “Today I’ll give you a small demonstration—let me show you what a culinary god looks like.”

Chang Yuncheng chuckled, his face wearing an expression of utter disdain.

Upon returning home, they first went to pay their respects to Marquis Dingxi and Lady Xie. Marquis Dingxi, burdened by his guilty conscience, avoided seeing Qi Yue whenever possible, while Lady Xie simply did not wish to see her at all. Thus, the couple unexpectedly agreed on the same thing: they were retiring for the night.

“...I ate too much. Something light, let me think...” Qi Yue mused as she walked back.

Chang Yuncheng followed behind, a smile unconsciously surfacing, which he quickly suppressed, schooling his features into an indifferent expression.

“...Do we have any pickled radish or preserved vegetables at home?” Qi Yue asked A’ru.

“Yes,” A’ru replied with a smile. “We have everything; the New Year provisions are all stocked.”

“Then prepare me some pickled sour radish, half a duck, and some mushrooms,” Qi Yue listed on her fingers.

The serving women nearby quickly acknowledged the request and hurried off.

“Just you wait,” Qi Yue said, shaking her head at Chang Yuncheng, then headed toward the kitchen herself.

Watching Qi Yue stroll away leisurely with her maid, the strained expression on Chang Yuncheng’s face finally relaxed.

“She actually knows I like duck...” he murmured to himself, finally unable to contain himself, the smile breaking loose.

Qiuxiang helped Chang Yuncheng change into his casual robes. After seeing him go in to wash up, she quickly pulled Quezhi aside.

“Why is the Young Lord in such high spirits?” she asked curiously.

“The Young Mistress has gone to prepare a late-night snack for the Young Lord,” Quezhi whispered with a smile.

Qiuxiang instantly understood, covering her mouth to suppress a laugh.

“No wonder! This is the first time in history—the last time, the Young Lord specifically made a late-night snack for the Young Mistress, and this time, the Young Mistress is voluntarily making one for the Young Lord. Amitabha...” She clasped her hands in prayer, a look of deep satisfaction on her face. “It’s finally settled. They must not cause trouble again.”

Quezhi nodded while her needle flew swiftly through the thread.

“What are you doing? You never put that down,” Qiuxiang asked curiously, looking at the needlework in Quezhi’s hand and the piece of leather resting on her lap... Was she making shoes? It didn't look like it.

“This?” Quezhi said with a touch of pride. “This is the suture technique. If you cut this, it’s just like a person’s skin being cut open. I have to sew it back up so the wound stops bleeding quickly and heals.”

Qiuxiang was quite astonished.

“Is this... is this like what A’hao had on her stomach?” she asked in a low voice.

Quezhi nodded.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Qiuxiang exclaimed with awe, looking at Quezhi. “You learned it too? I thought only Sister A’ru knew how.”

Quezhi deftly completed an 'eight-shaped' suture. Sister A’ru knows? Of course, she knows. Not only does she know, but she’s the best at it. Just you wait and see.

In the kitchen, Qi Yue quickly chopped the radish and mushrooms, minced the duck meat, briefly blanched it, and began to simmer everything.

“Do not lift the lid midway,” Qi Yue instructed the kitchen maid. “After it opens, turn the heat down low. I will send someone to fetch it when it’s ready.”

The kitchen maid quickly assented.

Qi Yue then took A’ru and walked out.

“It smells so fragrant even though it hasn’t finished stewing. The Young Lord will surely love it,” A’ru said happily.

“Of course. Few people dislike my cooking. Back then, when we had departmental gatherings at my place, it was a major event...” Qi Yue laughed, and as she spoke, she couldn't help but look up at the winter night sky.

The snow was falling harder now, sparkling brilliantly amidst the festive decorations all around.

The lively sound of uncorking wine bottles, the ever-changing music, colleagues sneaking tastes while working busily in the kitchen, the permeating aroma of cooked food...

None of that would ever come again...

It would only exist in memory...

Perhaps, as time passed, she wouldn't even remember it clearly...

Just as she was lost in reminiscing about the past, she heard the leading maid cry out ahead.

“Who is hiding there, acting suspiciously?”

Qi Yue followed the gaze and saw two young maids emerging from the shadow of a large tree by the wall, kneeling on the ground and trembling. Two older matrons stood nearby, waiting to question and punish them, ensuring the maids didn't delay the Young Mistress's walk. The other serving women continued to lead the way.

As she passed by, Qi Yue couldn't help glancing at the maids kneeling on the ground. All the servants in the household had new padded winter clothes, but these two were still wearing their old garments. They were almost pressed flat against the ground, their faces obscured.

Qi Yue was reminded of A’ru and A’hao in the past.

“What is the matter?” she asked.

The two maids became even more frightened and dared not speak.

“The Young Mistress is asking you a question,” the matron snapped.

“It’s... it’s...” one maid stammered out, her voice trembling.

“It’s the Young Mistress, please, Young Mistress, show mercy and let us leave the manor to call a doctor for the Third Young Master...” the other bit her lip, raised her head, and spoke with tears streaming down her face.

Qi Yue froze.

Chang Yunqi?

Ever since the incident involving Concubine Zhou, her children, the Third Young Master and the Second Young Miss, had been somewhat implicated. At least, they had kept a much lower profile within the estate. In fact, apart from the ancestral ceremonies, they hadn’t seen them since.

A’ru looked at the two maids, her feelings complex. There had been similar scenes before, only she had been the one kneeling then. Truly, fortunes turn—or perhaps one’s fate is not one’s own; a life that seems full of splendor can vanish in a heartbeat...

“He’s ill?” Qi Yue quickly inquired, instructing the matrons to fetch a doctor while stepping forward herself. “I’ll go take a look.”

The two maids were quite surprised, yet filled with joy, kowtowing profusely in thanks.

“...The Third Young Master has been studying too diligently, losing sleep and injuring his spirit. He caught a chill during the ancestral rites a few days ago, and this morning he couldn’t get out of bed...” the maid explained softly while leading the way.

“Did you not ask a doctor to come?” Qi Yue asked, looking at this maid, whom she vaguely recognized as Caijuan.

“In the first month, people say it hasn't even passed the fifth...” the maid next to her began to say.

Caijuan quickly interrupted her.

“We didn’t think it was that serious initially. The Third Young Master said drinking some hot broth to sweat it out would be enough. It is our dereliction of duty; we didn't anticipate this, so we didn't call a doctor,” she said, her face etched with self-reproach.

Back then, it was difficult for A’ru and A’hao to even request some simple food. This must be the fault of some short-sighted staff member making things difficult for them. Qi Yue understood with a faint smile.

“Have the managing matron dismiss her duties tomorrow and send her to the farm,” she stated.

This statement startled everyone.

“But, but if the Madam...” the serving woman stammered, looking apprehensive.

“The Young Master is sick, and they didn't even know to call a doctor? Such servants are clearly trying to ruin the Madam’s reputation. Would the Madam keep her?” Qi Yue said, her face darkening.

Since Qi Yue had spoken, and considering her current standing in the household, the serving women no longer hesitated and complied.

Upon hearing that Qi Yue had arrived, Chang Yunqi was startled.

“Just say I’m asleep...” he murmured stiffly.

“The Young Master refuses to see her?” the maid asked quietly.

See her? What face did he have left to see...

“No,” Chang Yunqi said flatly, closing his eyes.

“Refuse Eldest Sister-in-law, but surely he must see the doctor?”

The woman’s voice came from outside the door, and immediately the curtain was thrown open.

Chang Yunqi kept his eyes tightly shut. Don’t see... don’t see... I have no face to see anyone.... His own mother had done such a thing; what was he, her son, supposed to do? He couldn't hate his mother, yet not hating her felt like a betrayal of the people before him... He, who had always prided himself on being the one in the family who treated Qi Yueliang the best... What a resounding slap in the face!

Qi Yue waved her hand, signaling the nervous maid to step aside. She looked at Chang Yunqi, who was lying beneath a thick quilt, seemingly asleep.