A cold gust followed Li Zhu as she trotted briskly into the main hall, a light dusting of snow clinging to her shoulders.
Just outside the entrance, Yingtao had thoughtfully placed a handwarmer brazier [handwarmer: a small portable stove or ceramic heater used in winter by noble households]. The rising heat melted much of the snow before it could dampen the polished floor.
“Come in quickly,” Yingtao said softly, brushing off the snow on her sleeve. “There’s warm honey water on the table.”
Li Zhu smiled brightly, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She walked over, took up the porcelain cup with both hands, and drank a sip. The warmth spread through her fingers and into her chest, chasing away the chill.
“Sister Yingtao is the best,” she said, eyes curving into crescents. “You even put honey in the water you made for me!”
Before Yingtao could respond, a gentle voice floated from the inner room.
“Yingtao, who’s out there? Oh—it’s Li Zhu? How is your Young Madam treating you these days?”
Li Zhu quickly replied in a half-laughing tone, “Our Young Madam is the kindest under Heaven! If she hadn’t asked Sister Lu Ju to prepare a few extra sets of clothing for me, I’d have nothing dry to change into.”
From inside came a soft laugh—Du Jingyi’s.
Indeed, ever since Li Zhu began training in martial arts under Liu Xun, she had not missed a single day, snow or shine. Concerned that the girl’s clothes might often be soaked through during practice, Du Jingyi had ordered Lu Ju to make several light yet warm garments [Lu Ju: the chief maid responsible for clothing and sewing in the household].
After a month or two of training, Du Jingyi wasn’t sure how skilled Li Zhu’s techniques had become, but her once-round cheeks had slimmed noticeably. The childish plumpness had faded, replaced by a faint maturity.
Yingtao, who had grown up beside her, felt a pang of distress at the change. But Li Zhu herself was delighted each time she practiced, believing that the strength she gained would better enable her to protect both herself and her Young Madam.
After warming up, Li Zhu followed Yingtao into the inner chamber.
There, she found Du Jingyi seated before a low table, brush in hand, sketching delicate patterns upon paper. The design resembled the outline of a longevity lock [longevity lock (长命锁): a traditional amulet shaped like a lock, worn by children for protection and good fortune].
Li Zhu blinked in curiosity. “Young Madam, didn’t you already gift the longevity locket you made to the Eldest Lady? Why are you drawing another one?”
Du Jingyi’s lips curved slightly, the corners soft with warmth. A tender light flickered in her gaze.
Yingtao smiled knowingly from the side, while Li Zhu only looked more puzzled.
The household was tranquil, but beneath its calm, Du Jingyi’s heart held a secret joy she wasn’t ready to share—not until her husband returned in two days. She could already imagine that austere man’s expression when he learned the news.
Would General Shang Ji—the stoic and battle-hardened commander—be as quietly overjoyed as she was now?
Finishing the final stroke, Du Jingyi gently blew on the page, letting the ink dry. Then she handed the pattern to Yingtao.
“Send this to Zhenlongxuan,” she instructed. “Tell them to use the finest materials and make it with the utmost care. There’s no rush—it must be perfect.”
Zhenlongxuan [Zhenlongxuan: a premier goldsmith shop known for crafting ornaments and jewelry for noble families] had long been under the Du family’s patronage.
Yingtao nodded. “Rest assured, Young Madam. They will do their best.”
Li Zhu, though still curious, knew better than to pry. Everything their Young Madam did carried purpose, and her role was simply to obey.
Yet she hadn’t come today only to deliver reports. After glancing around, she stepped forward with a shy grin.
Before she could speak, Du Jingyi looked up and said gently, “You wish to go to the escort agency to see Mr. Leng, don’t you?”
Li Zhu’s eyes widened. Then, nodding eagerly, she replied, “Young Madam is truly perceptive! Yes—I really wish to visit Master. He’s finally come to Sui’an City, and who knows when we’ll meet again once he leaves?”
Du Jingyi chuckled. “Then go this afternoon. Be careful on the road. And take some money from Yingtao to buy a few jars of good wine for Mr. Leng. Don’t forget to pick up the roast chicken from Tianxianglou—I recall it’s his favorite.”
Li Zhu’s face lit up. “Young Madam has such a good memory! But there’s no need for the money; I’ve saved up quite a bit myself. It’s more than enough to treat Master to wine and meat.”
Her earnest expression drew another quiet laugh from Du Jingyi.
It had been four or five years since she’d last seen Mr. Leng, the Du family’s veteran escort chief [escort chief: the leader of a security convoy, responsible for protecting goods and merchants on long-distance trade routes]. He was the one personally leading the northbound convoy this winter. Judging by their pace, they should reach Jinling before the end of the year—just in time for the spring markets, when prices would rise and profits flourish.
Thinking of this, Du Jingyi’s heart filled with gratitude toward all those who served the Du family—the shopkeepers, escorts, and merchants who labored through hardship to sustain their household.
“You go and offer your respects to your teacher,” she said softly. “I’ll have some wine sent to my elders. It’s no conflict of duty. These days I can’t go out easily, or else I would have gone myself to greet Mr. Leng.”
Li Zhu nodded obediently. “Understood, Young Madam. I’ll be sure to tell him that the roast chicken and fine wine came from you—he’ll be so pleased.”
As they spoke, Yingtao returned, followed closely by Mama Dou and Mama Cai [senior attendants and stewards responsible for managing household servants and daily affairs]. Both women entered with smiles and bright faces, though the first thing their eyes sought was not Du Jingyi’s expression—but her still-flat belly.
Though there was nothing visible yet, joy shone on their faces as though the child were already here.
“This old servant greets the Young Madam,” they said in unison, bowing deeply.
Du Jingyi smiled. “Mama Dou, Mama Cai—you’ve both come?”
Yingtao explained with a smile, “I happened to meet them on the way back. They said they had something to report, so we came together.”
At that, Mama Dou stepped forward eagerly. “Young Madam, the greenhouse you ordered has been completed. This old servant went in to try it—warm and bright, not stuffy in the least! Even in this freezing weather, it feels like spring inside.”
A delighted light crossed Du Jingyi’s face.
She had never been fond of winter’s chill, and now, with something precious to care for, she needed warmth more than ever. Knowing the greenhouse was finished filled her with quiet joy.
“Excellent,” she said at once. “Very good indeed. We’ll be moving in just ten days. Have the servants clean everything thoroughly, and in three days we’ll begin transferring the larger furnishings.”
“Yes, Young Madam,” Mama Dou replied at once.
Happiness rippled through the gathered servants. Compared to the smaller quarters of the East Garden [East Garden: the side residence within a noble’s estate, often used by newlyweds or junior members before moving to their main household], the new General’s Mansion was spacious and radiant. To follow their mistress there, to serve in the household of the General himself—who would not feel pride?
Mama Dou’s eyes turned slightly red as she said in a trembling voice, “Finally, the rain has passed and the sky has cleared. Our Young Madam is truly blessed. From now on, she will live in peace and happiness with the General.”
Her words were meant for Du Jingyi, yet also seemed like an offering whispered to Madam Gu in heaven—the late matriarch of the Gu family [Madam Gu: the deceased mother of General Shang Ji, once Duchess of the realm].
Du Jingyi’s voice softened. “Mama Dou, Mama Cai—you’ll both have more to manage once we move into the General’s Mansion. I’ll be relying on you.”
“Don’t worry, Young Madam,” Mama Dou said firmly. “This old servant is in good health and will keep everything in order. I will see to it that nothing disturbs your rest or the child’s upbringing.”
Though Du Jingyi’s heart was as calm as a still pond, her eyes gleamed with warmth and gratitude.
Outside, the snow continued to fall, a quiet white veil over Sui’an City. Within the courtyard, a gentle happiness lingered in the air—like the first breath of spring after a long, bitter winter.