Are you here to eat or to cause trouble?
Yu Jinnian curled up in his blanket, leaving only his head and feet exposed. Outside the door, there were faint footsteps and soft knocking sounds. He didn’t bother opening his eyes and instead turned around, burying his head into the blanket, leaving only a handful of black hair spread across the pillow.
Qing Huan, after knocking for a while without a response, remembered what Young Master Ji had instructed earlier that morning. She pushed the door open, placed the brass basin on the rack behind the door, and arranged the towels before heading deeper into the room. She called out “Brother Nian” twice and then lifted the curtain.
The bed was in utter disarray, with blankets twisted into a heap, wrapping the person like a cocoon where one couldn’t distinguish the head from the feet. Qing Huan carefully tugged at the edge of the blanket and unearthed a small white “rice dumpling” from the cloud-soft covers. She didn’t dare raise her voice—she had heard the elders say that shouting at someone in deep sleep could scare away their soul—so she softly coaxed him awake.
After trying everything from sweet talk to stern warnings, Qing Huan finally brought up the threat: “Young Master Ji said if you’re still not up when he returns from court, he’ll make you copy sutras as punishment.”
A muffled voice from under the blanket asked, “…What sutra?”
Qing Huan put her hands on her hips. “The Lotus Sutra.”
There was a brief silence before the boy slowly emerged like a sprout breaking through the soil, unwilling and drowsy. Yu Jinnian crawled out of the cozy blanket, slipped into his shoes—putting them on the wrong feet in his grogginess—and was about to get off the bed. Qing Huan quickly pushed him back, removed his boots, corrected them, and helped him wear them properly. He lowered his head, his movements sluggish. It wasn’t until Qing Huan handed him a damp face towel that he wiped his face absentmindedly and mumbled, “…How did I get back?”
Qing Huan took back the towel and said, “You slept so soundly last night that Young Master Ji carried you back.”
After wiping his face, Yu Jinnian finally woke up a bit more. He blinked and looked around. Qing Huan, anticipating his next question, quickly repeated, “Young Master Ji went to court for attendance and will be back soon. He said you should have breakfast first. He’ll check on you when he returns. There’s soy milk and steamed buns ready in the front hall.”
“He’ll check? What’s he checking for?” Yu Jinnian asked, only to immediately shut his mouth as if realizing something. He pulled on his undershirt awkwardly and shuffled off to the front hall for breakfast.
Jinyouting was designed to harmonize with the surrounding scenery, with picturesque views everywhere. At the moment, the lotus pond in the front courtyard was filled with green leaves emerging from the water. The flowers had yet to bloom, leaving the pond a lush sea of green. Occasionally, a koi would leap out of the water, creating ripples. The garden had a young servant specially assigned to care for the koi fish and, along the way, manage a mischievous cat that constantly tried to sneak into the water to catch the fish.
As Yu Jinnian passed by, he saw Little Dingdang crouched by the pond, glaring at the water and extending a furry paw to swipe at the surface. The koi mistook it for someone feeding them and swam over in a frenzy, their tails splashing the water like a boiling cauldron. Startled by the water spraying its face, Little Dingdang tumbled backward with a startled yowl.
Laughing, Yu Jinnian hurried over and scooped up the feisty cat before it could start another round of “battle” with the koi. He carried the cat to the front hall for breakfast, passing by a group of servants busy sweeping and dusting. Most of them had red tassels tied to their waists. Yu Jinnian hadn’t yet figured out the purpose of this custom when Qing Huan caught up and draped a red robe over his shoulders.
Yu Jinnian blinked in confusion. “What’s this for? I’m not getting married.”
“It’s for Lixia (the Beginning of Summer). You missed it yesterday, but wearing red is still important for good fortune.” Qing Huan, though not particularly learned, remembered these traditional details passed down through families. With her reminder, Yu Jinnian vaguely recalled the custom as well.
In the Great Xia dynasty, associated with the element of fire, red was an auspicious color. Although the custom had faded over time with the dynasty’s prosperity, during festivals like Lixia, wearing red was still popular. People welcomed the Southern Red Emperor and honored their ancestors. Those who couldn’t afford red clothing bought red tassels to wear, adding to the festive spirit.
With chrysanthemums still distant and summer lotus yet to bloom, it was the perfect season for wheat flowers. Yu Jinnian, having been busy with various matters lately, finally found himself with a brief moment of peace. He stretched lazily, breathing in the fresh air, ready to enjoy a quiet day focused on himself.
“Lixia… did you boil eggs?” Yu Jinnian asked.
Qing Huan smiled. “Yes, we did. I’ve also prepared silk tassels.”
The two of them walked toward the flower hall. As they crossed the threshold, they saw two people already seated inside. One held a folding fan, gazing distantly at the lotus pond, dark circles under his eyes. His health had not yet fully recovered, and even walking a short distance left him needing rest. His once graceful and handsome face now appeared gaunt, like someone who had been through too much.
Yu Jinnian paused in surprise and tilted his head. “Second Young Master Min? Why are you here so early?”
By the window, Min Mao was tossing fish food into the pond. Hearing Yu Jinnian’s voice, he jumped down and pouted, immediately tattling, “I was bored at home and wanted to visit you, but my second brother insisted on coming too.” He leaned closer to Yu Jinnian’s ear and whispered, “I heard he didn’t sleep at all last night. Isn’t it strange? He’s always disliked you.”
Then, feigning shock, he added, “In storybooks, ladies saved from danger always end up offering themselves in gratitude. Could it be that my second brother… has fallen for you after you saved him?”
“Get lost, get lost! Is your second brother some delicate maiden?” Yu Jinnian scolded him, swatting him playfully until he ran off laughing. He then turned back to look at Min Xuefei. It had to be said, with his sorrowful and forlorn demeanor, he did look quite… “delicate.”
The servants quickly immersed the boiled eggs in cold water and brought them over in a wooden basin. Yu Jinnian sat at the table, picked out the perfect egg with an uncracked shell, and placed it into the colorful silk net that Qing Huan had prepared. He pulled the opening tight, binding the egg inside the net, leaving a long tassel hanging beneath it—this was the Lixia egg.
Children would compete in an egg-fighting game, tapping the heads or tails of the eggs against each other. The one whose egg remained unbroken was the winner. If the egg’s head stayed intact, it was called a “big win,” while the tail remaining unbroken was a “small win.” The child with the “big win” was considered the most formidable, and other children would envy them.
People of the time attached hopeful symbolism to these customs. Eating Lixia eggs was believed to bring safety and peace, and hanging them was said to earn the Summer God’s blessing to avoid the fatigue of summer. There were also customs like eating Lixia rice or drinking Lixia tea. Though some of these beliefs lacked evidence, they were a form of comfort for people, and no one saw a need to argue over superstition.
After tying the eggs, Yu Jinnian noticed Sui Sui was still asleep. He handed a few eggs to Qing Huan, instructing her to hang one on Sui Sui’s bed canopy and another around her neck. The remaining ones were to be given away. There were several young servants in the garden; though older than Sui Sui, Yu Jinnian still considered them children. Since it was Lixia, he couldn’t let them miss out on the fun.
Even after distributing to the garden servants, a few eggs remained. Yu Jinnian gave one each to Min Mao and his two guards. Then, thinking for a moment, he hung one on Min Xuefei’s chest.
Min Xuefei frowned. “What is this?”
“A Lixia egg. Haven’t you played before?” Yu Jinnian grinned, spinning a white egg in his hand. “Come on, tap it against mine. If you crack my egg, your wishes will come true, and everything will go smoothly!”
Min Xuefei raised his hand to remove it. “Why would I play such a childish game with you?” He took the egg off his neck, turning it over in his hand absentmindedly. After a moment, he didn’t put it back on the table but simply held it without explanation.
Meanwhile, Min Mao clumsily joined the egg-fighting game with his bodyguards and proudly emerged victorious, showing off to Yu Jinnian.
As they sat, the wind rose over the pond. Yu Jinnian had the bamboo blinds lowered around the hall and ordered a red clay stove to be brought up for tea. Since he was preparing the tea, it naturally wouldn’t be something ordinary. Not daring to show off his tea skills in front of Min Xuefei, he named a few medicinal ingredients and sent a servant to fetch them. When the water boiled, he reduced the fire slightly and added several schisandra berries, a few slices of codonopsis root, and six or seven pieces of dwarf lilyturf. After letting it simmer briefly, he added a scoop of freshly prepared jasmine tea leaves and let the water boil again.
Into white porcelain teacups, he placed a few fresh jasmine flowers from this season. He poured the golden tea into the cups, where the white jasmine blossoms gently unfurled in the hot water, floating on the surface. The fragrance filled the air, the tea was clear, and it was both invigorating and nourishing. It was suitable for someone like Min Xuefei, who was recovering from illness, but also harmless for those in good health.
As he was pouring tea, Ji Hong returned. Hearing that everyone had gathered in the flower hall—including the “imperial patient” Min Xuefei—he didn’t even take off his court robes and headed straight for the lotus pond. Smelling the faint tea aroma carried by the breeze, he knew it was his little “miracle doctor” at work. A servant outside the hall was about to announce him, but Ji Hong gestured to stop him, took a damp towel to clean his hands, and quietly entered the hall.
He saw the boy sitting there with a red robe loosely draped over his shoulders. The hem of the robe trailed on the ground, weighed down by the fat cat using it as a cushion for its nap. Yu Jinnian propped his chin up with one hand, smiling as he listened to Min Mao boast about how his second brother was portrayed in stories as a loyal and patriotic hero, then went on to praise Yu Jinnian’s extraordinary medical skills. This tale had already spread throughout the city before they even returned from the Hot Valley Palace. Though no one knew the real details, embellishments had been added, and even Min Mao, who seldom left his house, had heard of it.
During the incident at the Hot Valley Palace, many young nobles had been present, so the source of the rumors remained unclear. Since the emperor’s assassination attempt wasn’t something to publicize, people only dared to talk about Min Xuefei’s bravery. Still, a good story needed a hook, and the mysterious “wandering doctor” became the centerpiece of the tale.
Yu Jinnian listened as the storytellers described him like some miracle-working immortal. Someone had even dug up his past deeds of healing in Xin’an County, exaggerating them further. The stories were so outrageous that Yu Jinnian himself could barely stand to hear them.
Ji Hong approached and patted Yu Jinnian’s shoulder. Yu Jinnian looked up abruptly, surprised to see him back so soon. He quickly told Min Mao to stop talking, embarrassed. Trying to stand up, his robe hem was still pinned under the fat cat, causing him to stumble straight into Ji Hong’s arms. Ji Hong seized the opportunity to lift his chin and, shielding them with his wide court sleeve, gave him a light kiss.
Everyone in the flower hall was familiar with their antics, even Min Mao, who was used to it and unbothered.
The only one who seemed unsettled was Min Xuefei. His eyes widened momentarily, and he pressed his lips together awkwardly.
Ji Hong turned to him and, noticing his pale complexion, said, “When I left the palace, I ran into Supervisor Lian, who asked about your health. He also mentioned last night—”
Before he could finish, Min Xuefei’s head shot up in alarm, and he hurriedly averted his gaze. “What last night! Nothing happened last night. I went back and slept immediately!”
“….” Ji Hong paused before continuing, “He said he was in such a hurry last night that he forgot to remind the servants to ensure you took your medicine. What did you think I meant?”
Yu Jinnian also turned back, puzzled, to look at him.
Something indeed seemed off about Min Xuefei today—he appeared nervous for no reason.
“Nothing,” Min Xuefei muttered gloomily, turning to face the lotus pond again. After a while, hearing no further questioning from Ji Hong, who had resumed teasing Yu Jinnian, he couldn’t help but turn back and tentatively ask, “…Nothing else?”
“Hmm?” A small white porcelain teacup was ambiguously wrapped in their hands as Ji Hong leaned forward, carefully sniffing the fragrance of the tea. Hearing Min Xuefei’s question, he looked puzzled. “Hmm? He only mentioned that. Did you think there was more?”
Min Xuefei turned away, staring at the pond for a long time, his brows gradually furrowing as he stewed in his own frustration. When he glanced back and saw Ji Hong and Yu Jinnian being so close—laughing and sharing sips from the same teacup—his lips started to ache. Especially the spot that had been pecked by someone that night; it hurt even more, as did his barely healed chest wound, which throbbed in protest.
Yu Jinnian, holding the cat, patiently stroked its fur and lazily leaned against Ji Hong. With one eye half-open, he watched the conflicted and self-tormenting Min Xuefei with interest. He found him quite amusing and even considered analyzing whether his famous reputation for having “a heart of gold” and loving power over beauty was accurate—if his “selfless devotion to the nation” was as pure as the rumors suggested.
The tea was almost finished. Min Mao and the others had gone to stroll through the garden, Qing Huan had left to care for Sui Sui, and even Ji Hong returned to his room to change clothes.
The flower hall was left with only Yu Jinnian and Min Xuefei—one busy stroking the fat cat, the other quietly admiring the koi fish.
After a long silence—so long that Yu Jinnian nearly dozed off—Min Xuefei finally shifted in his seat, his stiff posture showing cracks in his usual composed demeanor. That sharp tongue of his, which could eloquently debate the entire court, now stammered awkwardly. “You two… you two being like this, is it…”
Yu Jinnian opened his eyes and blinked. “Hmm? What do you mean by ‘being like this’? What are we like?”
“…”
Yu Jinnian immediately laughed. “Sorry, sorry. Go on, Second Young Master. Please continue.”
Min Xuefei stared at him for a moment, then shut his mouth again. “Forget it.”
Yu Jinnian: “…”
—
In the following days, only the idle and mischievous Min Mao occasionally came to Jinyouting to find entertainment or to mooch meals at the newly reopened Sanyu Building. His second brother, however, had disappeared for days. According to Min Mao, Min Xuefei hadn’t fully recovered and seemed to have developed some sort of mental ailment, spending his days brooding in his room. Lately, his behavior had changed drastically.
When asked how it had changed, Min Mao explained that his second brother had sent away all the male servants in his courtyard and instead summoned a group of graceful maidservants to attend to him.
Yu Jinnian thought to himself that this was indeed a dramatic change. Everyone in the capital knew that Min Xuefei was the embodiment of “one must establish a career before building a family.” Many struggling scholars in the city regarded him as a role model to justify delaying marriage. If even Min Xuefei had succumbed to the company of maidservants, it truly signaled moral decline. Tsk tsk.
Min Mao cracked sunflower seeds noisily and sighed with regret. “But those girls are only for regular service. None of them can become my sister-in-law.”
Yu Jinnian teased, “Oh? Do you have a candidate for your sister-in-law?”
Min Mao replied, “During the Lantern Festival, I saw the daughter of Censor Zhou. She’s very beautiful and seems scholarly, but she’s a bit short. Lord Wang’s young daughter is also nice, but her mother was a concubine elevated to wife, so she’s not quite worthy of our family… Sigh, it’s hard! My brother’s refusal to marry is ruining my prospects too. If he doesn’t settle down, how can I?”
Yu Jinnian chuckled. “Oh? You’ve got prospects already?”
Min Mao grinned smugly. “Of course. Once my brother decides, I’ll go propose!”
The two of them were lounging in a private room on the second floor of Sanyu Building, cracking sunflower seeds and gnawing on boneless chicken feet while gossiping. Just as they reached the juiciest part of their conversation, a commotion suddenly broke out downstairs. The sound of a porcelain bowl shattering was followed by someone shouting, “Quick, bring him in—this is Sanyu Building!”
Yu Jinnian immediately stood up and asked the servant at the door, “What’s going on? Are they here to eat or cause trouble?”