"Forget it, Mutong. Let's come back another day. We still have to visit Dajue Temple tomorrow anyway," Yang Yufu said, pulling Princess Mutong away as they stepped out of the embroidery shop.
Mutong nodded. "Alright. I know my brother knows the people here. I'll ask him to help us when we get back." The two girls shared a smile, though a hint of disappointment remained.
"Princess," whispered Miaoning, Mutong's maid. "I don't think that Miss Beiye was telling the truth back there."
Mutong lowered her gaze. "Even if she wasn't, what could we do? She made her move; were we supposed to argue with her or demand to see her mother's birth certificate?"
"But..." Miaoning trailed off.
"I used to admire her from afar," Yang Yufu added with a huff. "She seemed so beautiful, kind, and talented. I used to envy the girls who were her close friends. But now? After today? I don't envy her one bit. What a person!"
Mutong's sparkling eyes narrowed slightly. Despite her weight, she had a charm that was undeniably captivating. "En. Let's just go."
The Resolve for a War Chest
Mo Lixia spent the entire afternoon in a daze. It wasn't until she returned to the manor and saw her mother waiting at the gate that her heart cleared. Regardless of what political paths her father and brother chose, she decided she would build a financial fortress for them.
Money talks, and money gets things done, she thought. It's never a bad thing to have a massive war chest.
After a quiet dinner and seeing Mochen back to his courtyard, Lixia dragged her exhausted body to her room and flopped onto the bed. "The hot water is ready, Miss. Would you like to bathe now?"
"Mmm, yes."
Stepping into the fragrant, steaming bath, Lixia felt the tension leave her muscles. Outside the curtains, Xiqiu and Hongshang whispered about her sudden change in mood.
"Hongshang, why was the Miss so somber today?" Xiqiu asked.
"Don't ask too much," Hongshang replied steadily. "The Miss has a plan of her own. Just keep your heart in your stomach."
Lixia emerged from the bath in a customized sleep-gown, her hair dripping. "Xiqiu, is there anything else besides saponins for washing hair?"
"Saponins are the best we have, Miss," Xiqiu said, helping her dry her hair. "Even the Imperial Palace just uses a slightly higher-grade variety of what we have here."
Lixia's mind whirred. When the weather gets cooler, I'll try to formulate some liquid shampoo. It needs simmering, and it's too hot for the kitchen right now.
The Custom-Made Revolution
The next morning, after seeing off Mochen, Lixia was full of energy. She presented two cartoon sketches to Xiqiu and Hongshang.
"Look at these. Can you tell who they are?"
"This one... the eyes and brows look just like Princess Mutong," Xiqiu said, peering closer. "But..."
"But the figure is much slimmer, right?" Lixia laughed.
"If we make this into a pillow for her, do you think she'll like it?"
Xiqiu's face lit up. "Oh, she'll love it!"
Hongshang pointed to the second sketch. "And this is Miss Yang?" Lixia nodded.
"Xiqiu, go find some high-quality, solid-colored fabric. Hongshang, do we have a master carver in the manor?"
"Master Pi, who tends the gardens, is excellent with wood," Hongshang recalled. "I often see him carving intricate patterns on scraps of wood in his spare time."
The Master Carver's Secret
Master Pi, a man in his fifties, arrived at the courtyard looking nervous. He rarely had business with the Young Miss. But when he heard she wanted to learn carving, he relaxed.
"Master Pi, can you carve this drawing onto a woodblock?" Lixia asked, showing him the cartoon sketch.
"Easily, Miss. It's a simple pattern," he replied respectfully.
Lixia sat beside him as he worked. She tried to pick up a chisel herself, but soon realized that while she could draw, her spatial awareness for carving was abysmal. She couldn't get the proportions right. Resigning herself to the "pre-sketching" role, she simply drew the outlines on the wood for him to follow.
"Master Pi, how did you learn such a skill?" she asked.
"I never had a teacher, Miss," the old man said softly, his eyes focused on the blade. "My late wife loved wooden hairpins. Back then, we had no money, so I started carving them for her myself. Over the years, my hands just... learned the way."
Lixia looked at the rough, calloused hands of the gardener and felt a surge of respect. Behind every skill in the world, there was often a story of love or survival.