Chapter 43

Old Madam Tang walked over with a cheerful laugh, her gaze settling on Chu Lingyue with unmistakable affection.

She had heard everything. Lingyue truly was a fine young woman—her only flaw was her poor taste in partners. Well, luckily for them, her taste was poor; otherwise, she never would have taken a liking to the unlucky granddaughter.

Who knew how much good fortune Tang Jin had accumulated over her past lives?

When Chu Shaoyang spotted the Old Madam, her mind flashed back to the advice she had just given Chu Lingyue, and a pang of inexplicable guilt washed over her.

“You’re too kind, Old Madam,” she said hastily. “I have some matters to attend to. I’ll return this evening.”

With that, she scurried away as if fleeing for her life.

She had wanted to appear calm and poised, but that morning’s spectacle of the Old Madam jabbing people with her cane had left too deep an impression. Now, just the sight of the cane in the Old Madam’s hand sent a shiver through her heart.

Old Madam Tang took a seat and remarked, “Why’s that child running off like that? It’s as if keeping her for a meal would lead to a beating.”

Chu Lingyue’s gaze drifted to the cane in the Old Madam’s hand. She couldn’t help but think that Shaoyang might truly fear a whacking—and who knew how much the Old Madam had overheard.

“Shaoyang’s always been a bit flighty,” she said. “Please don’t hold it against her, Grandmother.”

Old Madam Tang smiled faintly. “Bygones are bygones. Your Grandmother holds no grudges against anyone.”

The implication was clear: she had heard everything she was meant to hear—and everything she wasn’t.

Chu Lingyue pressed her lips together before offering a proactive explanation. “Please don’t misunderstand, Grandmother. I’ve never been with anyone else before.”

If Tang Jin had heard this conversation, she might not have bothered to explain. But facing the Old Madam, she didn’t want the elderly woman fretting over her past.

Old Madam Tang nodded, then asked casually, “Has Lingyue ever been betrothed before?”

A flicker of complexity passed through Chu Lingyue’s eyes at the question. Then, slowly, she replied, “When I was thirteen, I fell into the water while playing around. No one was nearby, and the two young maids with me panicked. Fortunately, a young gentleman surnamed Li happened to pass by. He rescued me without making a fuss or seeking to exploit the deed. I thought I was going to drown back then. In the moment after being pulled out, my heart pounded fiercely. In my childish ignorance, I mistook it for love and even fantasized about being with him. Later, I realized it was just the illusion born of surviving a near-death ordeal—the simple gratitude of one saved.

“Then, at sixteen, my father tried to marry me off as a second wife to a widower from a great clan. I resisted fiercely, even threatening to take my own life to prove my resolve. Thanks to the help of a benefactor, I avoided that folly. Not long after, I met A-Jin.”

She recounted both incidents in one steady breath, her deep, limpid eyes meeting the Old Madam’s without evasion.

Old Madam Tang could tell she spoke the truth, and her heart ached for the girl all the more.

“Our Lingyue has always been sensible and level-headed,” she said. “Everything she does suits this old lady just fine. No matter what you’ve been through before, as long as you haven’t hurt others, you’re a good child in my book.”

Chu Lingyue lowered her gaze. Before the age of sixteen, she had believed herself wise and refined in all things.

But after her father was demoted, she realized how gravely mistaken she had been.

All those people who once fawned over her turned their faces overnight. Their flattery became a cruel joke.

It was as if everyone wanted to trample her just to prove their own righteousness.

That was the year she understood the falseness of their praise.

In their eyes, the real her had been spoiled, arrogant, and domineering—a prime minister’s daughter who commanded unwilling respect.

Once her father’s power faded, that forced reverence twisted into mockery, doubled back upon her in vengeance.

Those days from ten years ago felt like an unreal dream, a mirage built on authority that shattered at a touch.

No one knew what life had been like for the once haughty prime minister’s daughter over the past decade.

She had gone hungry, dressed in rags, endured endless snubs and sneers. She forced herself to adapt to that vastly different existence, to obey meekly and avoid troubling her father, to do things she once scorned: playing music for coin in wine houses, copying books and painting for others.

She pushed herself to grow strong, to contribute to the household. Apart from earning silver, she had no time for anything else.

Yet people are hard to change at their core. She was still that prime minister’s daughter who refused to wrong herself.

So when she learned her father meant to give her as a concubine to another, ten years of docility crumbled in an instant. She reverted to her original self.

She defied her father’s arrangements once more, choosing resolutely to live for herself.

Seeing the wistful expression on her face, Old Madam Tang knew she was lost in old memories. She offered earnestly, “Lingyue, no one is without flaws in their youth—not even saints. This old lady was in her thirties when my husband died. I raised the children and still made foolish mistakes out of softness of heart. But as long as we recognize our errors and live right from then on, our time in this world isn’t wasted.”

She thought of her eldest son, who had left home over a decade ago and never returned. A rare glint of pain flickered in her usually clear, insightful eyes.

That heartless cur—best if he never came back. Otherwise, she’d break his legs, chain him up like a dog, and keep him from harming others.

Chu Lingyue nodded solemnly. She was no longer that sheltered prime minister’s daughter oblivious to the world’s hardships. She was Chu Lingyue now—and she would remain only Chu Lingyue henceforth.

Seeing her expression calm, Old Madam Tang smiled. “Enough of this. All this talk has left this old lady starving. Go to the kitchen and hurry Tang Jin along. If we don’t eat lunch soon, night will fall. And that Lai Di has been out half the day too—none of you give me a moment’s peace.”

No sooner had the Old Madam spoken than Tang Laidi returned, carrying several glass bottles.

“Grandmother Tang, Lingyue—look what I brought back for you!” Tang Laidi said with raised brows, plunking the bottles on the table. “Where’s Tang Jin? Call her over to try some too.”

The Old Madam eyed the four bottles curiously. “What are these? And what’s with these little tubes?”

Chu Lingyue calmly picked up one bottle, twisted off the oak cork, inserted a bamboo straw, and handed it to the Old Madam. “Grandmother, this is milk tea. The Qin Family Wine Pavilion sells it every winter. It’s quite nice.”

Back in the Imperial Capital, she had enjoyed it often. In the ten years since leaving, she hadn’t touched it once—it was too expensive.

Five hundred cash per bottle; four bottles came to two taels of silver.

Tang Laidi grinned. “Lingyue knows her stuff. This morning, I ran into Second Brother Liu riding to the prefecture city, so I hitched a ride with him to see the sights. There was a huge line outside the Qin Family Wine Pavilion for this stuff. I figured we’d all like to try it, so I bought a few bottles. I’ve been keeping them warm in my bosom—they’re still nice and hot.”

Of the Hundred Blades Dynasty’s two great royal merchants, the Qin Family Wine Pavilion ranked second only to Tower Beyond Towers. Unlike Tower Beyond Towers’s branches everywhere, the pavilion had shops only in the prefecture city. Tang Laidi had heard of it but never visited.

Now that she had silver to spare and happened to pass by, she splurged her two taels of pocket money in excitement.

Old Madam Tang took a sip through narrowed eyes, and her own eyes lit up. “Delicious! Sweet with a rich milky aroma. This old lady’s enjoying the good life thanks to you lot. Quick, get Tang Jin to try some too.”

Though she grumbled inwardly about her unlucky granddaughter, whenever something good came along, the Old Madam always thought of Tang Jin.

Chu Lingyue took two cups of milk tea and two straws to the kitchen.

A knock sounded, and Tang Jin set down her book. “Who is it?”

“A-Jin, it’s me.”

The door opened, and Tang Jin’s eyes locked onto the items in Chu Lingyue’s hands.

“Tang Laidi went to the prefecture city and specially bought milk tea,” Chu Lingyue said just in time, handing one over.

But Tang Jin reacted as if startled. “What did you say?”

Milk tea!

Chu Lingyue said considerately, “A-Jin hasn’t been to the prefecture city, so you’ve never seen it before. This is sold by the Qin Family Wine—”

“Wait,” Tang Jin interrupted, snatching it and taking an eager sip. Holy hell, it really was milk tea!

Chu Lingyue’s brows twitched slightly. This reaction seemed off. An ordinary person, even without prior exposure, would be mostly curious, like the Old Madam.

But Tang Jin showed no curiosity toward milk tea—instead, she seemed shocked that such a thing even existed in this world.

“A-Jin, have you had milk tea before?”

It shouldn’t be possible. From her observations of Tang Jin over the past year, the girl had never left Ping’an County, never visited the prefecture city, and had no friends with connections.

Her one friend with any background was Tang Laidi, the constable at the county yamen—and even that was gone now. Besides, Tang Laidi had just been to the prefecture city for the first time and clearly had no prior knowledge of milk tea.

Tang Jin froze at the question. Of course she had drunk milk tea—but how could something so identical to the modern version exist in ancient times?

And sold commercially, no less!

“Wife,” she asked, “the Qin Family Wine Pavilion you mentioned—is that the one of the two great royal merchants?”

“Indeed.” Chu Lingyue nodded, her eyes appraising.

“Give me a moment.” Tang Jin turned, shut the door, and muttered to herself, “Qin Family Wine Pavilion… Qin Family Wine Pavilion… Found it.”

Among the books she had bought—mostly histories of the Hundred Blades Dynasty and a few famous biographies—was one on the life of the pavilion’s founder. She hadn’t gotten to it yet.

The founder was surnamed Qin, given name Chu: Qin Chu…

She flipped through the pages, her mind reeling like a storm. Business strategies at opening, sparkling fruit wines, summer iced drinks, milk tea…

Could this Qin Chu be a transmigrator too?

Hold on—glass bottles? Glass! Ice-making! Who invented these?

She grabbed the Hundred Blades history book and pored over it, tracing back centuries. There was even mention of Tower Beyond Towers’s founder. Right—Tower Beyond Towers’s signature hotpot.

Their menu featured modern hotpot staples like shrimp paste and beef slices. The founder, Song Cheng, had funded orphanages for homeless women and foundlings, a tradition that continued to this day…

The more Tang Jin read, the more incredulous she became. Her worldview was shattering. This Hundred Blades Dynasty wasn’t just home to her—there were other transmigrators in its history, and more than one.

No wonder a feudal dynasty had so many female emperors, women’s academies, women in business and officialdom via imperial exams…

Her predecessors had accomplished so much. How many transmigrators had shaped this dynasty? They were all major historical figures. Wait!

What about now? At the thought of a possibility, Tang Jin’s heart ignited with excitement.

If she expanded the little restaurant or saved enough silver to travel more, she might actually meet a fellow compatriot.

“A-Jin, A-Jin—it’s time for lunch.” Outside, Chu Lingyue knocked again, seeing how long she had been inside.

Tang Jin snapped back to reality, flung open the door, and blurted to Chu Lingyue, “Wife, what do you think of me as a person?”

Whether growing the restaurant or earning silver, the priority was still to stockpile more dishes.