Chapter 142: Jade Spring Rice

Cui Liu replied hurriedly, "It is the usual method; I did not add any special seasonings."

The Old Madam paused, then thought perhaps she simply had a better appetite today, which made the porridge taste particularly smooth and delicious, so she let the matter drop.

In the evening, the main kitchen sent over plain porridge and small side dishes. The Old Madam took one sip, set the bowl down, frowned, and complained, "This is truly awful."

Liu Qin looked at her mother and quickly asked Cai Xia to go to Plum Courtyard and have Cui Liu make a fresh portion.

Not long after, Cui Liu arrived carrying a food box.

The Old Madam drank the porridge Cui Liu had prepared with a beaming smile, finishing two bowls in one breath.

Liu Qin was truly puzzled. It was the same white rice, and no special ingredients were added—how could there be such a vast difference? Did Cui Liu possess such skilled hands that she could turn the mundane into the miraculous?

Feeling a bit unconvinced, Liu Qin took a spoonful of the remaining porridge from the bowl. The moment it touched her tongue, a fragrance unlike any other white rice permeated her taste buds. Tasting it again, it was sticky, smooth, and cooked to perfect softness—it was truly worlds apart from what the main kitchen had sent.

Since when had Cui Liu’s skills become so refined?

Liu Qin looked at Cui Liu. In truth, Cui Liu was also feeling puzzled; she had just tasted it herself and realized it was indeed very different from before.

The heat was the same, the utensils were the same, the rice was the same...

Wait, no, the rice was different.

"Miss, I used the half-bag of rice you brought back."

Half a bag of rice?

Liu Qin pondered for a long time before remembering it was the half-bag of rice that Chang Sheng had brought back for her from Yuquan Village last year. When Chang Sheng gave it to her, he had been somewhat embarrassed, saying it was a return gift from his clan leader, and he had even rambled on about some mythological stories regarding Yuquan Village.

Although the clan leader had only sent half a bag, Liu Qin had accepted it happily. Regardless, it was a gesture of goodwill. However, upon returning to Plum Courtyard, she hadn't thought much of it and had simply tossed it to Cui Liu, who handled the cooking.

If it was indeed the rice, then the clan leader hadn't exaggerated its value when he presented it as a treasure. Had she stumbled upon a new way to build wealth?

Liu Qin felt like a miser who had just found a gold nugget, her eyes instantly sparkling.

To verify if it was the rice, the next day, Liu Qin specifically prepared two types of rice. She used the same stove, the same fire, the same amount of water, and the same cooking time, all handled solely by Cui Liu.

After it was cooked, she and her mother tasted and compared them.

Indeed, there was a stark difference the moment it touched the tongue.

Goodness, she never expected there to be such a treasure in Yuquan Village.

After finishing a bowl of porridge, Liu Qin nearly jumped for joy.

Once her mother’s illness recovered, the first thing Liu Qin did upon returning to Plum Courtyard was to summon the three of them—Chang Sheng and the others—and instruct them to make another trip back to their hometown.

This trip had a mission: they were to find a way to grow more Yuquan rice.

From Chang Sheng and the others, she learned that the Yuquan spring was halfway up the mountain. Only a small plot of land was cultivated at the foot of the mountain, and they had to carry water down bucket by bucket to irrigate it. Not only was it exhausting, but the yield was also limited.

If they wanted to cultivate more land, they would have to divert the water, and it had to be the Yuquan spring water.

How to divert the water stumped Liu Qin for a moment. Should they split bamboo, connect it, and run it all the way down the mountain? Dig a canal? Build a mountain stream?

Liu Qin knew nothing about agriculture, and she didn't know if her ideas would work. In the end, she simply gave Chang Sheng and the others a sum of silver as initial investment, telling them to let the people of Yuquan Village figure it out themselves. Human ingenuity was boundless; perhaps with the incentive of silver, they would find a more effective method.

In any case, she had pointed them toward a path to wealth; it was up to them to pursue it.

Of course, if there was investment, there had to be a return: all the Yuquan rice grown on the newly cultivated fields had to be sold to her, and only to her.

Setting aside how Chang Sheng and the others negotiated with the Third Great-Uncle back home, ten days later, they returned, all of them brimming with joy. Chang Sheng pulled a document from his robes—it was the contract for the purchase of the Yuquan rice.

Liu Qin took the document, examined it carefully, and finding it in order, she tucked it away securely.

After recounting their experiences, Chang Sheng smiled slyly and said, "Let me tell you something... Chang'an is getting engaged."

Chang'an, not expecting the conversation to suddenly turn to him, blushed and turned his head away.

Liu Qin, who loved gossip, could not let this go and leaned in, "What's going on? Tell me!"

"When we got home, Chang'an's aunt happened to be visiting with his cousin. The two families had long intended to marry them off, so since Chang'an was home, they brought it out into the open. We came back to inform the manor; if the manor approves, they can get engaged. I was just afraid Chang'an was too shy to say it himself, so I spoke for him."

Liu Qin looked over and saw Chang'an with his head buried almost to his knees, his ears turning a bright, unnatural red.

Chang'an really was an honest man, Liu Qin thought with amusement.

But marriage was not a game, so Liu Qin asked solemnly, "Chang'an, are you willing to marry your cousin?"

Chang'an kept his head down, silent for a long time. Chang Sheng nudged him, and Chang'an finally lifted his face slightly. "I... I..."

After stuttering for a while, he stamped his foot, stood up, and ran away, leaving everyone behind in fits of laughter.

Because of the exhausting journey, Liu Qin gave the three of them a half-day off.

Chang Kang walked out of the manor, wandering aimlessly. He thought about how his mother had also brought up his aunt’s daughter back home, as well as the daughter of the Wang family in the front village. He hadn't agreed to either; he didn't know what he wanted, and he felt a bit stifled.

"Hey, isn't this Wen Xing's brother? Here to see Wen Xing again?"

It wasn't until a servant woman’s voice woke him that he realized he had unconsciously walked to the back gate of the Fang residence. The speaker was the gatekeeper, the same woman who had helped him pass a message to Xiao Xing last time.

Chang Kang hurriedly forced a smile and said, "Yes, yes, you have a good memory, ma'am. I must trouble you again this time."

The woman seemed to like Chang Kang. Although he hadn't offered her any silver this time, she still replied with a smile, "It's just a small matter. You wait here, I'll have someone call her for you."

Wen Xing soon appeared at the back gate, breathing slightly heavily as she faced Chang Kang. It was clear she had run all the way there.

"Brother Xiao Shun," she called out shyly once she caught her breath.

Chang Kang rubbed his head, not knowing what to say. He hadn't expected to come at this time; he hadn't brought the things Aunt Wu had asked him to carry, nor the snacks the young mistress had gifted. Standing there empty-handed, Chang Kang felt a bit awkward.

Neither of them spoke. They looked at each other, both blushing and lowering their heads.

A warm breeze blew past, gently lifting their hems and catching the corner of Wen Xing's sleeve.

Because he was looking down slightly, his peripheral vision caught Wen Xing’s fair, intertwined hands. As the wind lifted her sleeve, Wen Xing quickly pulled it down, but the sharp-eyed Chang Kang had already seen.

His pupils constricted violently. Disregarding propriety, he reached out and grabbed Wen Xing’s left arm.

"Brother Xiao Shun, you..."

Before Wen Xing could stop him, Chang Kang had already pushed up her sleeve, and a surge of fury rushed to his heart.

On that arm, which should have been fair and tender, were crisscrossing scars—burns, cuts, gashes... old wounds layered over with new ones.

Every scar was like a giant monster, maw agape, instantly devouring Chang Kang’s reason.