There have been people coming and going in Yiyuan these days. First, four servants came to clean up and transport out the clothes, entertainment items and ornaments that Chen Fu usually kept in Yiyuan. Then two maids dressed in red and green came and cleaned He Xiaoniang's room with the door closed for most of the day. After transporting out five large camphor wood boxes, they closed the door and windows tightly and sealed them with glue.
This defense is really undisguised...
Xianjin was a little speechless.
With the death of the fierce concubine He Ainiang, Yiyuan gradually became deserted.
Mrs. Zhang, who was impressed by Xianjin's fighting power, secretly told her that the four maids who were originally paired with him had extremely keen professional senses. On the eve of He Ainiang's death, they found incredible excuses such as "my aunt passed away and I have to go home", "my brother's leg was broken and there is no one to take care of him at home", "the sow at home gave birth to piglets and I have to take care of the piglet during the confinement period", etc., packed up their things and went home, looking forward to the next encounter between the master and servant.
The rest is understandable.
It is really intolerable for a sow to give birth to piglets.
Can you be more careful when finding excuses?
Can people feel a little bit of perfunctory respect?
All in all, these days, He Xianjin's back pain went away after two days of rest. There was no one to take care of him, and he had to fetch water, light the stove, wash clothes, and clean the yard every day. No one cared about such a large courtyard, so he lived a happy life.
Fortunately, Chen Fu was a person who did not read books. He even packed up the walnuts that he had been cooking for half a month and took them away, but left behind all the thirty or so books.
All cheap and showing gold.
The original owner could read.
The original owner would often embroider a few lines of sad poetry on her handkerchief.
Most of them are self-pitying and self-blaming.
The level of poetry is not good. Xianjin judged that the original owner had only a literate level of literacy based on the simple and easy-to-understand poems such as "I pity myself as a blade of grass, and everyone dislikes me for brushing the willows in the air" which can be understood at first hearing but will frown upon second hearing.
I have some literary dreams, but not many.
There is a bit of pretentiousness, but quite a bit.
You have everything you want, but your life is worthless.
How would the elder sister who was asked to go back to take care of Pig Mom during her confinement feel?
Since the original owner could read, Xianjin could read books without any concealment, and he had an idea of the Wei Dynasty that had emerged from the cracks in the rocks.
This was indeed a magical dynasty - it integrated the characteristics of the Song, Yuan and Ming dynasties. Cheng-Zhu Neo-Confucianism had not yet become mainstream, Confucianism, Taoism, Neo-Confucianism and the School of Mind were competing for the right to speak, the development of civil and military affairs was balanced, the agricultural and commercial environment was relatively good, there were Tatars in the north, Red Savady in the west, and Japanese invaders in the south. Although the status of women was not high, it was not so low that they had to shave their faces to remain chaste if someone saw their faces, nor was it so low that they had to wear three-inch golden lotus feet and be in a deformed situation where their psychology was controlled physically.
Overall, Xianjin believes that this is another Song Dynasty.
Whether it is the development of history and culture or the people's food, clothing, and transportation, they are more inclined to the Northern Song Dynasty which was not plunged into war.
This is a good thing.
A peaceful era is always better than the devastation of war.
At least you can try and live like a human being.
The quieter Xianjin was, the less trace the days in Yiyuan left.
The result of leaving no trace is that life becomes more and more difficult.
First of all, it is reflected in eating——
The three meals a day became more and more sloppy. Originally, in the morning, I had an egg, a bowl of porridge, a few side dishes and two vegetarian buns, which was probably the level of an ordinary breakfast stall at a train station.
These days, my breakfast consists of half a steamed bun, a bowl of rice soup, and occasionally a few green beans as a side dish. I have instantly fallen to the point of being in prison.
Gradually, it developed to the point where for a meal, the kitchen would only provide a plate of boiled vegetables and a small bowl of unhusked rice.
Xianjin opened the lid and looked in the steamy kitchen.
Look at the dishes, look up at the chef who is serving the rice, and then look at the dishes again.
The master chuckled, "Jin Jie'er, you are in mourning! How can you be in mourning with all the good food and drink?" He pointed to the ground, "Your mother is watching!"
Look, you have sores on the soles of your feet and pus on your head.
Xianjin said nothing, picked up the lunch box and walked out.
It was fine for one or two meals, but it was the same for five days in a row, and even the types of vegetables did not change.
People feel very uncomfortable.
Xianjin was so hungry that he sat up in the middle of the night, leaned over and took out a long and narrow wooden box from the bed. When he opened it, he found three stacked silver bills worth 100 taels, two heavy gold hairpins and three thick gold rings.
This is what He Ainiang left for Xianjin to save his life.
Obviously, He Ainiang did not consider the practicality of the circulation of these large-denomination silver notes and gold hairpins in the backyard of the deep house...
At least, Xianjin didn't dare to exchange one hundred taels of silver for three vegetarian buns.
If she dared to take it, the next second, the third wife would come and raid her house.
Xianjin closed the wooden box, sighed, and hid under the bed again.
Wait a little longer, be patient.
“Knock, knock, knock—”
Step quietly outside the window.
Xianjin knelt on the bed and pushed open the wooden window.
A food box was pushed in.
“Eat it now!”
Mrs. Zhang's face appeared in the moonlight. Seeing Xianjin's blank look, she hurriedly urged him, "Eat quickly! The Third Master asked me to bring it to you!"
Xianjin opened the lunch box, which contained a bowl of egg custard, a plate of tofu with soy sauce and chopped green onions, and a bowl of white rice, all still steaming.
"The old lady tied the Third Master up in the stable and beat him with a stick fifty times. He had a high fever for three days and his skin was torn and bruised. It was terrifying!"
Mrs. Zhang looked around and took out a purse from her sleeve and put it on the windowsill. "I brought you the silver. The old lady has taken all the Third Master's money. I took out a purse from my sleeve and this is all."
"Tomorrow, the Third Master will be sent to Jing County. No one knows what will happen to this family. He taught you not to be aggressive with the Third Madam. Be patient and wait for him to return and find a good home for you."
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