My Villainess Is Definitely Not a Black Lotus - Chapter 27

Xiaoyu…

What is it? Ji Xiaoyu looked up, blinking in confusion.

Do you want to learn to read and write? Fu Jianxu asked, her gaze fixed on Ji Xiaoyu’s eyes, her heart pounding.

Ji Xiaoyu froze, surprised by the question. She paused, then naturally finished bundling a stack of firewood and tossed it aside. What would I learn to read? What good would it do me?

Fu Jianxu waved her hand dismissively. Just tell me if you want to learn.

Ji Xiaoyu fell silent. Did she want to?

She had never considered it. During her childhood, when food was scarce, she had watched indifferently as the village chief’s children, dressed in clean clothes, were sent to school.

Reading and writing had simply drifted past her life, and she had never imagined a time when she might have any connection to the concept.

Silence stretched between them. Ji Xiaoyu could hear her own heart pounding in her ears.

If I said I didn’t want it, I’d be lying.

Fu Jianxu watched her intently, scrutinizing every flicker of emotion on her face. She wants it, she thought, I’m sure of it. Her gaze lingered on Ji Xiaoyu’s lips, waiting for her to say the words, I want it.

Ji Xiaoyu stole a glance upward, meeting Fu Jianxu’s expectant gaze.

I want… The word slipped from her lips as if by some strange compulsion, so softly it was barely audible. She immediately lowered her head, afraid Fu Jianxu would see the redness rimming her eyes.

Now that you’ve learned to read and write, Fu Jianxu said with a gentle smile, each word spoken with deliberate care, you can choose a name you truly love for yourself. She paused, her gaze settling on the back of Ji Xiaoyu’s bowed head. Instead of… a name you’ll carry for life, simply because of the weather on the day you were born.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Fu Jianxu realized they sounded like a rejection of the name Xiaoyu. Her heart tightened, and she hastily waved her hand in explanation. I didn’t mean your current name is bad! Xiaoyu is lovely! Really!

Her voice quickened slightly. I just think… your name should be treated with more respect, and you should have the right to decide.

A tear traced a path down Ji Xiaoyu’s cheek. Still turned away, she gave a soft, almost imperceptible nod.

Fu Jianxu keenly sensed the delicate atmosphere thickening in the air, immediately feeling uneasy. She dreaded sentimental or awkward situations. Scratching her head, she hastily changed the subject. Besides, Xiaoyu, you’re our shop’s accountant now!

She deliberately raised her voice, injecting exaggerated enthusiasm into her tone. Once you learn to read and write, our ledgers will be even clearer!

As she spoke, Fu Jianxu stole glances at Ji Xiaoyu’s reaction. And! You’re the one who makes all the big and small decisions for the shop, right?

Ji Xiaoyu slowly turned her head, her tear-brightened eyes sparkling like the clear sky after rain. She looked at Fu Jianxu and offered a warm, genuine smile, her voice soft. Okay. Thank you, Sister Jianxu.

Fu Jianxu stared at that smile, her own lips curving upward involuntarily.

The next day dawned with a clear blue sky, perfect for work.

Fu Zhixiao left early to pick up meat from the butcher, while Ji Xiaoyu and Fu Jianxu walked side-by-side in the morning light. A gentle breeze brushed their faces, and Fu Jianxu felt a rare moment of leisure, a stark contrast to her usual hurried pace when rushing to the docks for work. This good mood carried over to the shop, making her steps feel lighter.

Hey, girl, did you find some money today? You look so cheerful, Chen Zhen noticed the joy in her eyes immediately.

Fu Jianxu instinctively touched her face and grinned. Really?

Zhou Daya and Hao Hong nodded vigorously in unison. Definitely!

Ji Xiaoyu, who was sorting ingredients, couldn’t help but smile to herself. She likely knew the reason behind the woman’s happiness.

Fu Jianxu finally tempered her smile and began working, but her mind remained preoccupied with how to send the little girl at home to school and where to find a suitable tutor.

Business at the shop had stabilized recently, and with Zhou Daya and Hao Hong’s help, the little girl could finally have time to study. The shop’s current income should also be enough to hire a tutor, but after covering daily expenses, they would still be stretched thin.

Her mind raced, and she thought of Madam Xie, the Wealth God.

What could I sell her this time?

My lady, a letter from the capital. Bamboo Leaf stood with her head bowed, respectfully presenting the letter with both hands.

Madam Xie set down her brush and accepted the letter.

After reading it, a faint smile curved her lips as she carefully folded the parchment. The Eldest Princess truly lives up to her reputation.

The candlelight flickered gently. She moved the letter to the flame, watching as the fire slowly consumed the paper. Has the Brocade Pavilion Cloth Shop remained quiet?

Reporting, my lady, everything is as usual, Bamboo Leaf replied, maintaining her deferential posture. That person only travels between the cloth shop and the courtyard each day, without contacting any outsiders.

Ashes fell into the celadon lamp. Madam Xie nodded slightly. Keep a close watch. Report any unusual activity immediately.

She picked up her brush again, her gaze drifting slowly across the account books, studying the recent sales figures for pudding and the feedback from the Eldest Princess in the capital. Then she added, Next time Madam Fu seeks me out, if she’s still selling recipes, don’t stop her.

Bamboo Leaf understood and bowed in acknowledgment.

You want to hire a tutor for Xiaoyu? Fu Zhixiao paused in her work, looking up in surprise.

Fu Jianxu, who was busily scrubbing an iron pot, nodded. Yes, I want her to learn to read.

She’s just a girl. She can’t take the imperial examinations anyway… Fu Zhixiao set down her rag, her brow furrowing slightly. What’s the point of wasting money on that?

The iron pot clanged back onto the stove. Fu Jianxu shook the water from her hands. Is learning to read and understand principles only for taking the examinations?

She explained, Xiaoyu is smart. There’s no harm in her reading more. Besides, now that we’re running a business, we need someone who can read to help manage things.

Fu Zhixiao couldn’t believe these words were coming from Fu Jianxu, the former simpleton. This neighbor girl was completely different from how she remembered her.

Still, since Fu Jianxu had asked, she would keep an eye out and inquire. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.

Fu Jianxu retrieved a jar of leftover bone broth from the cabinet and handed it to Fu Zhixiao. Take this bone broth home. It’ll make a perfect bowl of noodles for Aunt Chunhao.

Fu Zhixiao accepted the jar without protest and left, casting one last glance at Fu Jianxu as she went.

Fu Jianxu didn’t rush home. After asking where the butcher’s stall was, she locked up the shop and led Ji Xiaoyu down West Market Street.

Boss, how much for the lard? Fu Jianxu asked, bending down to examine the snow-white slabs of pork fat at the butcher’s stall.

Twenty wen per jin, Madam. How much do you want? the butcher replied.

Ten jin, Fu Jianxu said, stroking her chin. She then asked in a low voice, Boss, do you know where I can buy beef tallow?

Ji Xiaoyu’s eyes widened beside her, and she tugged quietly at Fu Jianxu’s sleeve. Sister Jianxu, why are we buying so much oil?

Fu Jianxu winked at her and whispered a few words, slightly easing the girl’s worried expression.

Next, Fu Jianxu asked the butcher to slice two jin of pork. Finally, she bought half a set of pork bones. The clinking copper coins quickly added up, and in no time, she had spent over one liang of silver.

On the way home, Ji Xiaoyu clutched the oil-paper-wrapped bundles, her face crumpled with concern. What if we can’t sell all this oil and meat?

Silly girl, Fu Jianxu said, freeing a hand to pat Ji Xiaoyu’s head. Once we make it into hotpot broth, it won’t spoil easily. If we can’t sell it, we’ll just keep it for ourselves.

Back home, Fu Jianxu rolled up her sleeves and got to work. First, she sliced the pork into thin pieces and marinated them. Then, she chopped the lard into small cubes and slowly rendered it in a pot. The fat sizzled and crackled as it gradually melted into a clear, golden liquid.

Ji Xiaoyu stood nearby, occasionally helping by handing over a ladle or a bowl.

Xiaoyu, fetch the spices for me, Fu Jianxu said, pointing to a cloth bag in the corner. Ji Xiaoyu hurried to retrieve it, revealing star anise, cinnamon sticks, and other spices they had bought earlier that day.

Fu Jianxu turned to grab the remaining Sichuan peppercorns from a jar. She winced as she sprinkled them in, knowing this was one less use of the precious spice. Come spring, she would have to go up the mountain with Fu Zhixiao to find wild peppercorn bushes and transplant them to their backyard.

The savory aroma of the oil, mingled with the pungent fragrance of Sichuan peppercorns, gradually filled the air, drifting far beyond their courtyard. Fu Chunhao, their neighbor, poked her head over the wall. Aiyo, A’Xu, what deliciousness are you cooking now? The smell is making my mouth water!

Aunt Chunhao, I’m trying out a new recipe, Fu Jianxu replied, wiping sweat from her forehead with a smile. Don’t bother cooking! Come eat with us later!

You’ve got yourself a deal! Fu Chunhao chuckled, withdrawing her head with a reminder Remember to lock the gate tight, or that old freeloader next door will come knocking with his bowl!

Fu Jianxu’s stirring slowed, her almond-shaped eyes widening. There’s a freeloader in our village who mooches meals?

Ji Xiaoyu shook her head with a laugh. Aunt Chunhao’s just teasing you, Sister Jianxu!

Fu Jianxu let out a sigh of relief, a wry smile playing on her lips as she continued to focus on simmering the broth. She scooped out the golden-brown spices, then added evodia, Sichuan peppercorns, and other seasonings.

The red oil in the pot churned, its pungent aroma growing increasingly intense. A young girl who loved spicy food stood nearby, her eyes shining with anticipation.

Fu Jianxu glanced back, meeting the girl’s bright gaze. She couldn’t help but smile. It was only at moments like this that she saw a glimpse of the girl’s true age in her expression.

Judging the time to be right, Fu Jianxu ladled out the hot pot broth into a basin to cool and solidify.

With a small amount of broth remaining, she added water and stoked the fire. Xiaoyu, go call Aunt Chunhao and Brother Xiao, she said. Let’s all have hot pot together!

The water had just come to a boil when Ji Xiaoyu led the pair into the kitchen.

Lacking a proper copper hot pot, Fu Jianxu simply moved chairs around the stove, and everyone gathered around the iron pot to cook meat and vegetables. The bubbling red broth hissed and steamed, and thin slices of meat turned color almost instantly as they swirled through the scalding liquid.

Fu Chunhao leaned over to peer into the bubbling red oil. A’Xu, what newfangled way of eating have you come up with this time?

This is called hot pot, Fu Jianxu said, picking up a slice of cooked beef and dipping it into a dish of minced garlic and sesame oil. Try some.

Ji Xiaoyu, already impatient, grabbed a slice of meat and popped it into her mouth. But the spicy kick far exceeded her expectations. After just three bites, the girl’s lips turned bright red, and she frantically gasped for air, waving her hands wildly in front of her mouth to fan herself.

Fu Chunhao burst into laughter. You two were so busy studying the broth, you forgot to cook rice, didn’t you? She stood up. Wait here, Aunt Chunhao will go home and get some rice.

I’ll go, Fu Zhixiao said, putting down her chopsticks and heading out. Moments later, she returned with a steaming wooden rice steamer. The snow-white rice was scooped into bowls, and Ji Xiaoyu eagerly devoured two mouthfuls, finally recovering from the heat.

Fu Chunhao and her daughter, meanwhile, were eating with gusto, their foreheads glistening with fine beads of sweat despite the winter chill. Watching them relish the meal, Fu Jianxu felt a warm glow in her heart.

She had eaten countless hot pots—copper pots, yin-yang pots, nine-compartment pots—but none had ever tasted quite like this. Around a simple stove, with rough porcelain bowls, the meal felt extraordinarily delicious.

She thought, the true meaning of delicious food wasn’t just about the taste itself, but about the people beside you who shared it.