chapter 17

[Extra]

Duan Jing racked his brains, but never imagined that he would share a birthday with his rebellious son in this lifetime.

He lost his mother at a young age, and no one ever celebrated his birthday. It wasn’t until Wanyi came to the mansion that, on his birthday, she would prepare a bowl of longevity noodles, sprinkled with emerald-green scallions, glistening with rich oil, and fragrant beyond compare.

For Duan Jing, this day was the most special of all-until three years ago, when misfortune began.

Three years had passed.

Lord Duan’s face was gloomy as he paced in front of the mansion gate.

On his birthday today, he had specially requested leave from His Majesty, planning to arrive home a bit late, just to eat a bowl of longevity noodles cooked by Wanyi herself. Yet that cunning son of his was even more scheming, waking earlier and tying up Wanyi’s time.

As dawn broke, Chunsheng yawned, “My lord, eating after court is the same. If you don’t leave now, you really won’t make it.”

Now that he was a high-ranking official in the Capital City, he had to set an example and not overindulge.

Duan Jing flicked his sleeve, secretly vowing to deal with that little rascal when he returned. The affairs of the day were tedious, and by the time he finished, the sun was already high. He hurried out of the palace, only to see his own carriage waiting outside.

A slender, fair hand lifted the curtain, revealing a charming face as radiant as a lotus blossom-nurtured for years, her allure was irresistible.

No matter how many times Duan Jing looked, he couldn’t suppress his feelings; all his accumulated irritation vanished in an instant.

In the end, it was still Wanyi who cared for him. Among all his Colleagues in the Capital City, whose wife would personally come to fetch them?

Feeling pleased, his steps grew lighter. As he approached the carriage, a small head poked out from the corner. Upon seeing clearly, Duan Jing’s heart sank, his face fell, and his tone turned cold: “Why did you bring him too?”

Zhang Wanyi blinked, “It’s both your birthdays today. I’ve arranged a banquet.”

In the end, he was just an afterthought!

Duan Jing gritted his teeth, “Chunsheng!”

Chunsheng, as if he’d heard this countless times, stepped forward respectfully, “Young Master, Lord Duan has found a highly esteemed tutor for you. No time like the present-let’s have him visit today.”

Duan Ze’s little face scrunched up, “Mother…”

Wanyi was naturally reluctant, but academics came first. She pushed him toward Chunsheng, “Go back to the mansion early.”

With the eyesore sent away, Duan Jing felt refreshed, boarded the carriage, and pulled Wanyi close, “Where is the banquet set?”

Zhang Wanyi blinked, “With one person missing, it’s a waste to eat out. Let’s go home.”

Duan Jing doubted his ears, “What?”

“Home,” Wanyi instructed the coachman, making the decision herself.

Duan Jing took a deep breath, veins bulging on his forehead, then lifted Wanyi’s chin, “Does your Husband not look good anymore?”

Zhang Wanyi was puzzled, “You look good.”

Even as she answered, the tips of her ears turned a faint pink.

Duan Ze was only three, and the two of them were in the prime of their lives, inseparable. Wanyi, now versed in romance, was like aged wine-growing more fragrant with time.

Duan Jing narrowed his eyes, “Then why do you care for him and not me?”

Only then did Zhang Wanyi realize that Duan Jing was once again jealous of his son, unable to hold back her laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” Duan Jing was dissatisfied with Wanyi’s attitude and pulled her into his arms.

Wanyi blinked and softly said, “Does Husband not want to be alone with me? Longevity noodles taste best when I make them myself.”

Duan Jing felt that as he aged, his perspective grew narrower by the day. Back when he was the famed Young Master Duan of the Capital City, he’d seen and played with all manner of precious things. Now, he felt that his wife’s longevity noodles were worth their weight in gold-eating them truly felt like they could prolong his life.

Thus, he was coaxed home by Zhang Wanyi, leaning against the stove, waiting eagerly.

As Chunsheng passed by the door, he couldn’t help but laugh, and soon the laughter spread throughout the entire Duan Mansion.

Only after finishing the noodles did he truly celebrate his birthday. Duan Jing was full of thoughts of intimacy with her, but unexpectedly, Wanyi had arranged to go out with the lady next door that afternoon, leaving the task of watching Duan Ze to Duan Jing.

Duan Jing was extremely unwilling, but dared not defy his wife. That afternoon, when Duan Ze returned home, he saw his father’s gloomy face as he tossed him a copy of “Policy Essays,” demanding he copy it.

Duan Ze was only three and couldn’t recognize big characters, but Duan Jing didn’t care, stuffing a brush into his hand and letting the child scribble, getting ink all over himself.

The servants in the mansion were used to it; after all, whether the lady was present or not, Lord Duan had two faces.

The lady was gentle by nature, yet could keep Lord Duan in line. Sure enough, that night, the bedroom echoed with Lord Duan’s sly arguments.

“How could I have done it on purpose? Chunsheng wasn’t watching-what does that have to do with me?”

“Husband, doesn’t your conscience hurt?”

“Just wash it if it’s dirty-it’s not a matter of conscience.”

“Look at you-do you look like a loving father at all!” Zhang Wanyi quietly reproached.

“If you give birth to a daughter, I’ll look the part.”

The room fell silent for a moment, then Zhang Wanyi’s shy and annoyed rebuke rang out: “Rogue!”

Thus, the servants in the mansion were stunned-on that night, Lord Duan, with his glib tongue, successfully persuaded the lady to bear him a daughter.

Of course, this was only known after the young lady was born.

Lord Duan truly became a loving father, circling around his wife and daughter, while the young master thrived in the cracks between them, and no new children were added to the mansion.

Later, when new servants joined the mansion, they would ask, “Why are there no concubines in the mansion? Isn’t Lord Duan’s household a bit sparse?”

The old hands who knew the story would pull them aside by the ear and quietly admonish them.

In this world, to seek an Imperial Edict to sever all romantic ties just to stay with his wife-perhaps only Duan Jing would do such a thing.

(The End)