Family Banquet and Qing Lin's Medicinal Formula

A small patch of the corridor was dark.

Ya Fei bent down, picked up the lantern, rehung it, and lit it again.

Only when the light came back on did she lower her head and glance at her sleeve.

The edges of that list had already frayed from being clutched in her hand all night.

"Seventh," she murmured, folding the list and tucking it back into her sleeve before turning to return to her room.

That night, the red lanterns burned from one end of the corridor until dawn.

The next morning, the people in the rear kitchen of the residence were startled—Cao Ying had risen first, holding Xuan Xi as she sat in the dining hall gnawing on steamed buns. There was not the slightest trace of weariness on her face; she had slept soundly.

"For now."

"Mm."

"Where's Dad?"

"Busy."

Xuan Xi bit into her bun and mumbled, "Busy doing what?"

"Being a father."

"Isn't he already my father?"

Cao Ying stuffed the bun in her hand into her daughter's mouth. "Eat."

Cai'er came over from the other end of the corridor carrying Xuan Yao. As soon as she sat down, she smiled. "I told you, we'd get a full night's sleep today."

"I did sleep."

"So did I."

The two looked at each other, then both burst out laughing.

The banquets went on for a month.

For that entire month, Saint Pill City had no nights.

All thirty-six main streets in the city were draped in red. Taverns opened from morning until morning, and experts rushing in from outside regions crowded into the city wave after wave. They came for no other reason than to say at a wine table, "I drank at a Dou Di's banquet."

Ya Fei stood at the entrance of the residence,