Chapter 10: To the Back Mountain

Standing in the courtyard like the mistress of the household, Chenxue studied Yanfan’s infuriatingly calm face.

“I think your wages should be docked too. What do you say?”

He frowned, silently weighing his answer. Then he looked up and said earnestly, “The buns were too small.”

Xiao Li, still holding half a bun, stared at him in disbelief. The ladle trembled in Song’s hand. “What did you say? Too small? One of Old Zhang’s buns is twice the size of one from a shop, and you call it small?”

Without changing expression, Yanfan demonstrated with his hands. “They were a little smaller than the ones outside. Look closely, Steward Song. The pieces of dough Old Zhang pinched off today were half an inch smaller than usual.”

Old Zhang leaned out from behind the stove, his expression difficult to describe. “I’ve been portioning dough for twenty years, and you’re telling me I was half an inch short?”

Song opened his mouth, looked at the remaining buns, then at his ladle. His voice lost some of its force. “Well… perhaps a little. Maybe Old Zhang’s hand slipped today. But that’s no excuse for eating four baskets by yourself!”

Chenxue nearly lost her composure. She took a deep breath, swallowed her laughter, and nodded with suitable authority. “Yes. The buns were a little small.”

Everyone turned to her again.

“Steward Song, steam some more for them. Make them bigger next time.” She paused and looked at Yanfan. “You, come with me.”

He untied his apron, left it by the stove, and followed her out. As he passed Xiao Li, the boy watched him smugly, the half bun still between his teeth.

Qiutang was waiting outside the kitchen courtyard and hurried after them. Without turning, Chenxue waved her away. “Go back.”

“Miss?”

“I’m going to deal with him. It wouldn’t be convenient with you there.”

Qiutang stopped. She looked from her mistress’s retreating figure to Yanfan following behind, a complicated expression on her face. But she had served Chenxue for years and knew how firm she could be. At last she curtsied and returned the way she had come.

They passed two corridors and circled a rockery. Chenxue stopped in a secluded spot beneath the flowers. As a child, she had used it as a secret hiding place: the rocks screened it on three sides, and a dense stand of osmanthus trees stood in front. Ordinary servants rarely passed this way.

Yanfan waited two steps behind her, properly prepared for a scolding.

She turned, folded her arms, and looked him over. The new clothes did fit. The cuffs were neatly gathered and the shoulders sat just right, making him look much more presentable than his old jacket.

“How much will you deduct, Miss?” he asked first. “Could you give me a discount? I’ll eat less next time.”

“Is there anything in your head besides lost wages?” She poked a finger into the fabric over his chest. “I helped you out, and you can’t even thank me?”

Yanfan looked down at her finger, then at her face. She wore a little rouge today and looked much livelier than she had while ill, though the faint shadows beneath her eyes showed that she had slept poorly.

“Thank you, Young Miss.”

Chenxue stared. She hadn’t expected him actually to thank her, much less sound sincere. All the barbed remarks she had prepared caught in her throat.

She cleared it, looked away, and raised her chin. “Not enough.”

He was silent for a beat. “Then… what else would you like, Miss?”

Instead of answering, she crooked a finger at him. “Carry me behind the rockery.”