Chapter 48

Chapter 48

The innocent question struck like a bolt from the blue. Ming Tang's steps faltered, experiencing for the first time since becoming familiar with Pei Ze what it meant to be truly dumbfounded.

After a brief pause, Ming Tang ignored the deeper implications of Pei Ze's words and replied calmly, "Your uncle will bring food when he returns."

Pei Ze instantly understood. "Mom didn’t catch anything. We’ll go hungry."

"Who said I didn’t catch anything? It’s just that what I caught's no good for eating."

Pei Ze got right to it: "If it’s not edible, what’s the use?"

Glancing down at him, Ming Tang led him to sit side by side on the wool mat outside the tent. As they gazed at the vast autumn grassland before them, she patted his head and said in a profound tone, "Just because it’s useless now doesn’t mean it will always be. You’re still young—you’ll get it when you’re bigger."

The solemn tone successfully made Pei Ze look thoughtful. Ming Tang ruffled his dark hair again and leaned back, thinking to herself how easy it was to fool children. Relaxing under the warm, gentle autumn sun, the sound of approaching hoofbeats soon roused her. She opened her eyes to see Pei Yue and his retinue returning.

As a royal hunting ground, the area naturally teemed with game. The moment the group returned with their haul, the camp came alive.

Pei Ze, who had never been near a kitchen in his life, now found himself closer to the cooking process than ever before. The good smells soon wafted over, piquing his curiosity. He tugged at Nanny Zhou, signaling her to take him closer.

But Nanny Zhou, knowing the scene likely involved skinning and bleeding the game, hesitated to expose the young boy to such sights. The two were stuck in a standoff until Pei Yue appeared with a few slices of roasted rabbit meat, instantly diverting Pei Ze’s attention.

"How is it ready so quickly?"

"Xiang Nan and the others are skilled hunters. They often go to the mountains for game in autumn and don’t stand on ceremony, so they’re naturally faster than the manor’s chefs."

Ming Tang glanced toward where the guards had gathered. They moved with ease, building fires and roasting meat as they pleased, perfectly comfortable.

"Did my lord ever join them before?" she asked. As guards of the ducal household, their primary duty was protecting their masters. Even during breaks, they wouldn’t hunt unless accompanying Pei Yue.

Pei Yue, sitting gracefully on the rug with one leg bent, seemed every inch the noble gentleman. Ming Tang couldn’t quite imagine him laughing and joking with the guards.

Understanding her unspoken question, Pei Yue scratched his nose but didn’t answer. Instead, he scooped Pei Ze up into his lap and asked, "Is it good?"

As a martial artist, he wasn’t always the model of noble manners. But in front of his wife, he preferred to maintain a dignified image.

Pei Ze nodded vigorously, then reached excitedly toward the guards. "More!"

His enthusiasm piqued Ming Tang’s curiosity, and she found herself tempted to try some. But when she looked back at the guards, their earlier boisterousness had vanished. They now carried themselves with exaggerated decorum, as if transported from the wilds to a royal court.

A moment later, Ming Tang understood why: a group of five or six riders approached from downwind, all dressed for riding—and all women.

They were clearly heading toward the Pei family’s camp. Though Ming Tang couldn’t make out the leader’s face, the woman’s bearing showed she was high-born. She sent Wen He to inform Mrs. Pei while she prepared to greet the newcomer.

By the time Mrs. Pei emerged from the tent, the group had dismounted nearby.

Mrs. Pei paused briefly before bowing. "Greetings to Princess Taihua."

Princess Taihua waved her up cheerfully. "I came out hunting but forgot to bring a cook. Seeing your family’s well-equipped camp, I’m crashing your party—I hope you don’t mind."

It was a trivial matter, and with the princess already present, Mrs. Pei naturally said it was fine.

As the wife of a duke and a princess of the realm exchanged pleasantries, Ming Tang stood quietly behind Mrs. Pei, keeping her eyes down in deference. Only when introduced did she step forward, curtsy, and finally steal a glance at the famed princess.

That single glance left a deep impression. It wasn’t Princess Taihua’s beauty—though her delicate features were undeniably striking even without adornment—but the unshakable confidence she carried, a rarity in this era.

Meanwhile, the princess looked Ming Tang over and found her ordinary, indistinguishable from any other noblewoman. Nothing about her hinted at being the first woman in the dynasty to divorce.

This only made the princess more curious. "Don't stay out in this wind, madam," she said to Mrs. Pei. "Let Ming keep me company for a while."

Princess Taihua had no reputation for arrogance beyond her marital discord, so Mrs. Pei knew Ming Tang could manage. With a nod, she took Pei Ze inside, leaving the two women alone.

With the elders gone, Pei Yue tactfully made himself scarce as well.

Suddenly, the lively camp went still. The princess, however, remained silent, as if she hadn’t been the one to request Ming Tang’s company.

A maid returned from where the Pei family’s game was being prepared and whispered to the princess, whose look went from surprised to pleased.

"Chenlu tells me your family caught a white fox today," the princess said. "I’ve been searching for one all morning without luck. Would you let me have it? I’ll trade you a pearl from the East."

Pearls from the East were precious, making the offer overly generous. Unwilling to take advantage, Ming Tang proposed an alternative. "The fox was pure luck—hardly worth a pearl. If Your Highness wishes, I’d gladly trade it for some of your morning’s game instead."

"Why?" The princess arched a brow. Surely Ming Tang knew the pearl’s value.

Ming Tang smiled. "I may have boasted to a certain little one before setting out, only to return with an inedible fox. My pride demands redemption."

The princess recalled the tiny figure earlier and laughed. "I’d never have guessed you were this sort of person." She looked Ming Tang over again. Given the rumors, she’d expected someone more... unconventional. Not a woman who, granted a private audience with royalty, worried what a little kid thought.

But if Ming Tang preferred simplicity, so be it. The princess summoned a maid to arrange the exchange, then gave Ming Tang a look that demanded conversation.

With a small sigh, Ming Tang asked, "Your Highness didn’t know me before today, correct? So your expectations must stem from gossip. Otherwise, our first meeting wouldn’t have prompted such surprise."

"True enough. I’d heard so much about you, I expected someone more... extraordinary."

The princess looked Ming Tang up and down again, head to toe. Her calm manner finally clarified the earlier dissonance: here was a woman who defied convention yet carried herself like any other.

"Standing out once is plenty. Must one flaunt it endlessly?" Ming Tang blinked innocently.

The princess laughed. "Good point."

Soon, they announced the food was ready. As they entered the tent, Pei Ze barely glanced at the new person before fixating on the roasted meat.

Just as he prepared to eat, the princess declared, "In gratitude for the white fox, I’ve gifted today’s entire hunt to your daughter-in-law. Do remember to collect it upon your return."

Mrs. Pei, startled, thanked her graciously.

Once the princess departed, Pei Ze finally spoke up. "Amazing!" he whispered to Ming Tang, eyes shining.

She shot him a smug look. "See? Auntie told you true. That inedible fox just bought you ten days’ worth of feasts."

He looked even more impressed—until he remembered her earlier words. Looking down at himself, he frowned. "Not grown yet." Hadn’t she said he’d understand when older?

"But compared to before, you’ve grown a little, haven’t you?"

He nodded, completely sure. If growing just a bit revealed such wonders, Auntie must be all-knowing!

Basking in his awe, Ming Tang reveled in the moment. Networking with royalty paled beside the joy of getting one over on a toddler.

The next morning, after paying respects to Mrs. Pei, Pei Ze eagerly attached himself to Ming Tang. Assuming he merely wanted to play, she led him toward the eastern courtyard—until he suddenly pointed insistently at the estate gates.

"Out! Play!" he demanded, louder than ever.

Though she hadn't caught anything worthwhile yesterday, Ming Tang still felt exhausted and had originally resolved not to go out again today.

However, Pei Ze's eager gaze was truly hard to resist. After a moment's consideration, Ming Tang nodded in agreement.

Soon after, she led the group beyond the estate gates.

The surroundings of the Pei family's estate were all their land, though no structures had been built there. Still, there was no worry of outsiders disturbing them. Since a stream ran through the area, one of the Pei ancestors had built a pavilion by the water and planted bamboo. Even in autumn, the bamboo remained lush, creating a rather scenic view.

Ming Tang glanced around, pleased, and decided to stop here. The maidservants behind her swiftly entered the pavilion, setting out cushions, snacks, and tea. Once seated, Wen He promptly handed her a storybook.

Pei Ze looked back toward the path they had come from and was surprised to find that the manor gate was still visible. His eyes filled with confusion—could this really be considered going out to play?

They had technically left the house, yet it also felt like they hadn't... After exchanging a glance with Ming Tang and seeing her confident expression, Pei Ze convinced himself: Of course it counted. They weren’t at home anymore, so they must have gone out.

Thus, he happily set off on his own and soon found amusement, squatting nearby, utterly absorbed in watching ants fight on the ground. He even quietly voiced the ants' battle.

Seeing that Pei Ze was amusing himself, Ming Tang instructed the servants to keep an eye on him and ensure he didn’t go near the water before relaxing. As Hong Ying massaged her sore arms, she awkwardly held the storybook with one hand, grumbling to herself—why couldn’t she have been born with extra arms? Reading with only one free hand was terribly inconvenient.

Meanwhile, Nan Wang, who had insisted on visiting the Pei residence to meet the now-wed Fourth Miss Ming, caught sight of this scene from a distance: a woman in the pavilion surrounded by maidservants serving tea and kneading her shoulders, looking utterly at ease.

Outside the pavilion, the Pei family’s treasured young master, Pei Ze, squatted on the ground, engrossed in gods-knew-what, with only a few servants watching over him—and doing little more than that.

Calling out to Pei Yue, Nan Wang said in disbelief, "This is the virtuous young wife you described—filial to elders, nurturing to juniors, perfectly suited to your family’s needs?"

Throwing Pei Yue a dubious look, Nan Wang strongly suspected his friend had already fallen for Fourth Miss Ming. Love must’ve addled his judgment—how else could he spout such drivel?

Even as the eldest son bred for a political match—though unable to inherit the family estate—Nan Wang had never been indulged like this as a child.

Pei Yue, who had also observed the scene, shrugged it off. "Perhaps A Ze simply enjoys playing this way."

Children ought to be sturdy and independent. If they were constantly coddled—dressed and fed without lifting a finger—they might appear dignified and avoid mishaps, but they’d grow up utterly useless.