Transmigrated into a minor official in a county government, with children at home waiting for rice t

A very faint fragrance wafted over, not the usual soapy smell found in bathhouses, but more like jasmine flowers thoroughly dried in the summer sun.

Zhang Sanlang put down the buckwheat cake, and a pair of soft-soled satin shoes embroidered with orchids stopped three feet in front of him.

His gaze moved up from the shoes, swept over the hem of the light purple narrow-sleeved jacket, then over the silver-gray silk sash at the waist, and finally landed on the face of the newcomer.

Her oval face was thinner than before, and her cheekbones were more defined than I remembered, but the smile at the corners of her mouth and the charming curve of her eyes remained.

It was none other than Zhang Yiniang, whom they first met in the brothel and then met again at the Dragon Boat Festival banquet!

Zhang Yiniang clasped her hands at her sides and gave a solemn curtsy. "Greetings, Third Master. I glanced at you from outside the courtyard gate just now and thought I had mistaken you for someone else."

Zhang Sanlang bowed slightly and said, "Oh, it's Madam Zhang."

As she stood up, she saw Zhang Sanlang already turning to talk to Huangfu Ce, and a slight embarrassment appeared on her face. Her gaze swept over the children sitting in front of the counter, lingering for a moment on Xi Mei'er's face, before she turned and waved towards the counter.

The middle-aged woman hurried over with a smile, "What are your orders, mistress?"

"Sister Mei, the Third Master is my savior. How can we serve him such ordinary things?"

Zhang Yiniang's voice wasn't loud, but her tone was firm. "Bring the jar of bayberry paste buried under the old locust tree, and the candied cherries. Also, bring two plates of osmanthus chestnut flour cake."

Sister Mei agreed immediately and turned to walk quickly to the back.

Zhang Yiniang's gaze fell on Ximei'er. Ximei'er sat on the bench, with half a buckwheat cake left in her hand, and also looked up at her.

A-Yun stood to happy-Mei'er's right, and Lin Qiao'er stood to the left, the two maids like two small doors on either side. Lin Xiu'er squatted at her sister's feet, with half a piece of cake in her mouth.

Zhang Yiniang immediately understood. She walked over to Ximei'er, bent down, and smiled, "This young lady has an extraordinary bearing. She can sit still at such a young age. She must be Master Zhang's beloved daughter?"

happy Mei looked her over carefully for a moment, then glanced at Zhang Sanlang, straightening her back. "Thank you for the compliment, Madam Zhang. My father calls me happy Mei."

Lin Xiuer squatted down at his feet, looked up at him for a long time, and suddenly blurted out, "Zhang Niangzi, you smell so good, just like the sachet my father used to bring back..."

Lin Qiao'er tugged at her younger sister's sleeve and whispered, "Xiu'er, don't talk nonsense!" She then looked up at Zhang Yiniang and smiled, "Please don't be offended, Madam Zhang, my sister is young."

A-Yun stood next to Xi-Mei-Er, her gaze lingering on Zhang Yiniang's face before settling on the silver-gray silk sash around her waist. She said softly, "Zhang Yiniang's silk sash is beautifully tied, even more neatly than my mother's."

As soon as A-Yun spoke, she realized it was inappropriate. She quickly glanced at Wang Yue'e, twisted her hands in front of her, moved her lips as if to say something but swallowed it back, and lowered her head to stare at the tips of her shoes.

Hearing this, Wang Yue'e glanced at her daughter sideways. "Of course. How could my rough hands and feet compare to Zhang Niangzi's finesse?"

Zhang Yiniang's gaze swept between the mother and daughter, then she reached out and picked up the empty bowl in front of Wang Yue'e, the bottom of which still had a layer of light stains from the drink.

"Sister-in-law, you're really skillful." Zhang Yiniang held the bowl up to the light, pointing her fingertip to the rim. "Look, there's not a single drop of soup on the rim."

"I've had a sweet tooth since I was little, and I've been cooking for seven or eight years, but I'm clumsy at serving soup and holding bowls, and I always end up spilling some. I think you must be a clean person by nature."

Wang Yue'e paused for a moment, then looked down at the table in front of her.

The children had just finished eating, and the plates and bowls were all left on the counter. She quickly tidied them up and wiped up the spilled soup stains.

She hadn't even noticed it herself; it was just something she did casually. But when Zhang Yiniang pointed it out, she didn't know what to say.

Zhang Yiniang put the bowl back, then looked at Ayun, her voice softening, "This young lady has good taste; she must have a mother who constantly teaches her."

"My mother passed away early, and when I was little, no one taught me how to tie a silk ribbon. I figured it out on my own for three or four years before I could tie a decent knot."

Upon hearing this, A-Yun looked up, and the embarrassment on her face lessened somewhat.

Wang Yue'e felt guilty and smiled at Zhang Yiniang, her eyes no longer showing any hostility.

Zhang Yiniang then turned to Wang Yue'e, her tone naturally friendly: "This sister-in-law looks kind. I noticed you were very efficient; you must take care of all the daily tasks at home, right?"

Wang Yue'e looked down at her hands and rubbed her knuckles. "There's no real work to do. It's all just cooking, washing clothes, sweeping, and taking care of the children's eating, drinking, and toileting. They're all small things."

Zhang Yiniang nodded, her gaze lingering for a moment on Wang Yue'e's rough hands before looking away. "I've heard people say that doing housework is more grueling than singing on stage."

"Every song has its end, but cooking and cleaning never stop. My sister-in-law takes such good care of these children; that's truly remarkable."

Wang Yue'e's tense expression relaxed, and the corners of her mouth curved into a smile. "Mrs. Zhang, you're joking. How can my rough work compare to your refined skills?"

Zhang Yiniang smiled at Wang Yue'e, then turned to look at Ximei'er, "Ximei'er, your father is always busy, who does your hair at home?"

happy Mei raised her hand and touched the bun on the top of her head. "Aunt Wang styled it."

Zhang Yiniang glanced at the girl's hair, then squatted down behind Ximei'er, gently brushed aside the stray hairs on the back of her head, and said with a soft laugh, "The parting is off; the right side is a bit higher than the left."

"I'll teach you Aunt Wang's method later, so your hair will come out round and tight, and won't come undone even after running all day. If you don't mind, Ximei, you can come to my house, and I'll comb your hair for you."

happy Mei glanced at her sideways, a slight smile playing on her lips, but she didn't reply.

Sister Mei brought out a red lacquered tray with two celadon dishes, a small earthenware jar, and several other exquisite items on it.

She placed the plate on the counter. Each piece of osmanthus chestnut flour cake was only about an inch square, and the surface was drizzled with a layer of amber-colored osmanthus honey, giving it a glossy sheen.

The cake is pale yellow, and you can see tiny chestnut pieces embedded in the pinkish-white rice cake, like scattered gold dust on snow. There are only eight pieces in total, served on two plates together.

Sister Mei then used a small spoon to scoop out candied cherries from the earthenware jar. They were bright red and trembled in the spoon before falling into the empty plate next to the pastries. The cherry skins were so thin they were translucent, and coated with honey, they rolled a couple of times like agate beads before stopping.

The Lin sisters stared blankly at the few cherries, somewhat lost in thought.

Zhang Yiniang took the small celadon jar from Sister Mei. Inside was a pale red paste. She scooped it out with a bamboo spoon and placed it into a row of delicate porcelain bowls in front of her.

Then, he picked up the copper kettle on the table, added well water and crushed ice, and stirred each bowl a few times with bamboo chopsticks. The pale red liquid melted, ice shavings floated on the surface, and fine water droplets seeped from the walls of each bowl.