Since the Small Courtyard had long stood unoccupied, sealed in dust and unswept,
Wei Zi spent the night in a guest room at the Feng Residence.
Jinghe Year Fifteen, the third day of the fourth month, morning.
In the rear hall of the Feng Residence, morning light was just seeping through, whitening the window paper.
Three sets of bowls and chopsticks were neatly arranged on the Rosewood Round Table.
Before Feng Yan sat a cup of Jade Yam and Mutton Soup.
Beside Fu Niang's hand was a bowl of Apricot Cream and Rice Porridge, the rice grains blossoming open, the apricot cream faintly set.
A steamer of Cave Plum Blossom Buns also graced the table.
There were two plates of cold dishes as well: Spiral-Cut Mutton and Thin-Sliced Sea Bass with Wine Vinegar.
All were fresh spring tribute delicacies, light and refreshing.
With Wei Zi joining them today, four more small dishes had been served.
Ginger-Pickled River Clams with Perilla, the clam meat tender and silky, the perilla fragrant.
Honey-Preserved Yue Melon, cut into diamond-shaped blossoms, its honeyed color translucent, its crisp sweetness seeping into the teeth.
Wine-Brined Tender Bamboo Shoots, white-jade segments with a faint aroma of wine lees.
Sugar-Frosted Ginkgo Nuts, coated in a thin frost, crumbly yet soft and chewy.
Feng Yan occupied the seat of honor, holding his soup in one hand while using the other to pick up a chopstickful of Spiral-Cut Mutton for Fu Niang.
He set it on her plate without a word, merely lifting his eyes slightly.
Warmth rose in his gaze as he watched his granddaughter lower her head and sip her porridge in small mouthfuls.
Fu Niang sat beside him, having changed into a moon-white, narrow-sleeved Beizi, its neckline revealing a hint of her pale goose-yellow bandeau.
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