The Third Wheel

Jiang Mi lowered her head and took another couple of looks at the yellowed, brittle paper in her hand. Once she confirmed it was her own indenture, she applied a little pressure with her fingertips and tore it to shreds. The scraps drifted gently down beside her feet.

Only after seeing the number of uses on the panel genuinely increase did Jiang Mi's heart finally settle back into her belly.

When she looked up at Dingbei Hou again, he was leaning against his chair, grinning like a street merchant who had stumbled upon an incredible bargain. His eyes had narrowed to slits, and the corners of his mouth nearly reached his ears.

He raised a hand, brimming with warmth. "All right, all right, there's no rush to leave. It's so early-you haven't eaten yet, have you? My wife will be here shortly. Why don't we all eat together?"

His sudden warmth caught Jiang Mi off guard. She did not decline, merely dipping her head. "Thank you, my lord."

She had promised herself a good meal last night. Now that one had landed on her doorstep, of course she could not turn it away.

Seeing her nod, Dingbei Hou settled the matter at once and called outside, "Someone! Serve breakfast! Bring out the squab soup the kitchen spent half the night simmering, and the freshly made crab roe buns. Add a few delicate side dishes, too!"

Jiang Mi stood on no ceremony either. She chose a chair at random and sat down, her back straight but her manner unstrained.

The decisiveness with which she had torn up her indenture was still fresh in Dingbei Hou's mind. Seeing her composure now, he found her more and more precious the longer he looked.

Before long, soft footsteps sounded outside, accompanied by a maid's respectful announcement. "Her ladyship has arrived."

Dingbei Hou's Wife wore a moon-white jacket embroidered with sprays of magnolia blossoms; a single plain silver hairpin adorned her temples; her features were gentle; and she carried herself with the dignified bearing of the mistress of the Marquis's Household.

As she entered, her gaze first fell on Jiang Mi. A trace of surprise flashed through her eyes before turning into a gentle smile, and she nodded to Jiang Mi in greeting.

Dingbei Hou immediately rose and beckoned, unable to hide the pride in his voice. "Come here, wife. Let me introduce you. This is Jiang Mi, a genius Great Xia sees only once in a century! She's sixteen this year, and her cultivation is at the Houtian Ninth Level!"

"The Houtian Ninth Level?"

His wife paused midstep. Having come from an aristocratic clan, she naturally understood what that level of cultivation meant.

Zuo Qinghan, the Zuo Household genius most celebrated in the capital, had only reached the Houtian Seventh Level at sixteen. At Jiang Mi's age, with her cultivation, never mind the title of "Great Xia genius"-she absolutely deserved even the title of "Northern Region genius"!

She hurried forward and took Jiang Mi's hand. "Dear child-" The feel of that hand stopped her words. Before she could compose what to say, an instinctive heartache had already surfaced in her eyes.

Though the young girl's hands were as rough as those of an ordinary martial artist, that roughness had not come from cultivation at all.

His wife could tell that these thin calluses had been worn into her hands through years of heavy labor and menial chores. There were also several tiny, unhealed

cracks on her fingertips. She must have suffered a great deal of harsh treatment in the past.

She did not ask where Jiang Mi had come from, only saying, "Child, you've suffered. Now that you're here in the Marquis's Household, treat it as your own home. Don't be afraid of anything, and don't let yourself suffer any grievances.

"With you staying here, it's absolutely our Marquis's Household that's reaching above its station. Even if you ask for the stars or the moon, that old man will have to pluck them down for you."

That "old man," of course, meant Dingbei Hou.

Jiang Mi instinctively followed his wife's gaze, only to see Dingbei Hou with both cheeks flushed red, looking for all the world like an honest, simple fellow whose wife had exposed his private thoughts and left him rather embarrassed.

Jiang Mi:

What the bubbling teapot was he blushing for? He hadn't been like this when his wife wasn't here.

Jiang Mi suddenly felt that she really should not have stayed for a meal.

At the very least, she should not have stayed for breakfast.

The couple were so lovey-dovey that she was nothing but an enormous third wheel.

Still, his wife's words were truly comforting. That one remark-"it's our Marquis's Household that's reaching above its station"-sent the last little trace of unease in Jiang Mi's heart vanishing like smoke and clouds.

As they spoke, maids and servants filed in carrying gilded trays, and a rich, savory fragrance instantly filled the room.

On the round table, the squab soup, simmered until its broth was thick and milky white, gave off an enticing aroma. The little steamed crab roe buns had exquisite pleats, and the crystal shrimp dumplings were so translucent that the shrimp inside were visible. There were also stir-fried tender bamboo shoots, honey-preserved green plums, soft, sticky lotus seed cakes-

Every dish was exquisitely prepared, utterly beyond comparison with the coarse, plain fare Jiang Mi had eaten in the servants' quarters.

His wife smiled gently, picked up the soup pot herself, and first ladled out a brimming bowl of squab soup for Jiang Mi, placing it in her hands.

"Have some soup first to nourish your stomach. You've suffered all these years; this is a good chance to build yourself up with proper food. Cultivation consumes qi and blood. Only with a well-nourished foundation can you walk steadily along the road ahead."

Jiang Mi thanked her softly, lifted the bowl, and took a small sip.

The broth was rich, savory, and mellow, its warmth sliding down her throat into her belly.

She ate unhurriedly with her chopsticks, her movements composed and measured. Even dressed in old, coarse clothes and seated in a lavish hall, she showed not the slightest trace of awkwardness or pettiness.

Dingbei Hou nodded repeatedly as he watched, the appreciation in his eyes deepening.

His wife knew her husband's temperament better than anyone. She kept placing food in Jiang Mi's bowl, determined to make the child eat more and make up for her past suffering.

The meal left hosts and guest alike delighted. By the time the sun stood high, Jiang Mi finally rose from the table.

Over the meal, his wife had already arranged everything in perfect order: the furnishings of her residence, fine clothes and jewelry, and all her daily necessities.

Jiang Mi could only feel admiration.

She followed the maid through several winding covered corridors. Beside the bluestone path, crabapple branches were studded with flower buds. When the wind blew, pale pink petals fell onto the maid's skirt and Jiang Mi's coarse sleeves.

From now on, Jiang Mi would be able to see this beautiful scene whenever she stepped outside.

"Miss Jiang, we're here."

The maid stopped and stepped aside to clear the courtyard entrance, her tone respectful.

Jiang Mi looked up. The vermilion courtyard gates before her gleamed, and the plaque hanging high above bore three characters-Qingyan Residence.

She pushed the gate open and entered, greeted by the fragrance of orchids. A stone table and stools stood on the courtyard's bluestone paving. Orchids grew in swathes to the east of the paving, while the grapevines to the west had only just sprouted fresh green shoots. In high summer, their dense shade would surely block out the sun, making this a fine place to cool off.

After bringing her here, the maid withdrew.

Jiang Mi had said she did not like having others attend to her, so his wife had not insisted.

Apart from her, only the old servant woman remained in this courtyard.

She remembered the old servant woman's kindness and had specifically asked for her indenture over the meal as well.

At that moment, the old servant woman stood in the garden, her heart full of apprehension.

She had seen Jiang Mi go to meet the marquis with her own eyes, and had also heard with her own ears that an honored guest had come to the household.

Old Chen at the gate had said that no one at all had called today.

Who else could that honored guest be?

It was precisely because she was certain of the honored guest's identity that the old servant woman was so uneasy.

After all, when it came to slapping, she really had delivered those slaps, without showing the slightest mercy. As far as the old servant woman was concerned, unless Jiang Mi had some peculiar tastes, there was no way anything good awaited her.

Besides, she was the only old servant woman in this courtyard, without even a maid around. Who knew how Jiang Mi intended to torment her?

Poor her-she had served the Marquis's Household loyally for half her life, only to meet an end like this.