Glory

Wen Tao said, "The superior fields are ten taels per mu, medium fields eight taels per mu, and inferior fields six taels per mu. Including the tenant farmers, it cost a total of nine thousand two hundred taels of silver."

Old Mrs. Ye patted her chest and said, "Fortunately, we brought enough silver."

Wen Tao smiled and replied, "If we hadn't brought this much, we wouldn't have bought this particular manor. At the time, Fang Xing was hesitant, worried that the young lady would be too deeply in debt. It was I who insisted on purchasing it."

"You're so generous with my money, yet at home, you're always complaining that the accounts are nearly empty whenever we need funds," Old Mrs. Ye teased with a laugh.

Ye Yaming couldn't help but chuckle upon hearing this.

It seems that financial personnel are much the same, whether in ancient times or modern.

She said, "Grandmother, I'll have Bai Rui send you two thousand two hundred taels of silver later. I borrowed three thousand taels from you and will repay you when I have the money."

Although she had earned another three thousand taels later, with the New Year approaching, she needed to keep some money on hand for emergencies and gifts.

"There's no hurry, repay me when you have it," Old Mrs. Ye said.

Ye Yaming then turned to Fang Xing and said, "Keep an eye on the manor's steward over there. If he's not capable, replace him. Also, hire that old farmer who knows how to grow chrysanthemums to teach the tenants how to cultivate them. I'm entrusting this matter to you. You can stay home and enjoy the New Year first; it's not too late to go after the festivities."

After a pause, she added, "As for the pages who previously worked with you, choose two you think are capable and who are willing, and take them as your assistants. I'll have other tasks for you in the future, so you'll need to be able to delegate responsibilities at the manor."

"Yes," Fang Xing replied.

Zhou Xiang was standing behind Ye Chongming at that moment. Upon hearing this, a flicker of envy crossed his eyes.

Although he and Meng Ji, as the Old Master Ye's personal attendants, were curried favor by everyone in the household—even Steward Li Fu dared not easily contradict their words, and no page in the estate would refuse tasks they assigned—their status ultimately remained that of pages, without truly having subordinates of their own.

In the capital, at the Yuning Princess Estate.

After several days of heavy snow, the plum blossoms were in full bloom. Fan Yu, the Imperial Consort renowned for his literary talent, had invited seven or eight close friends to his estate to admire the plum blossoms.

Guests were gradually led into the garden.

Although Fan Yu had not appeared for some time, the guests didn't mind. The garden had warm pavilions with heated walls, complete with hot tea and pastries, and outside the windows were clusters of red plum blossoms. All were close friends who enjoyed composing poetry and painting. Even without Fan Yu, they could enjoy themselves for an entire day drinking, reciting poetry, and creating art.

As they drank and admired the plum blossoms, they discussed setting a theme for each to compose a poem, with the winner receiving a plum branch and the loser hosting the next banquet.

Just as they were enthusiastically discussing this, a clear, melodious flute sound drifted over. Turning to look, they saw a group of people walking through the snow, led by Imperial Consort Fan Yu.

He wore a white satin cloak trimmed with fox fur, followed by maids in white satin tops and red skirts. Most strikingly, one of the maids carried a vase with a branch of robust red plum blossoms. Behind them were pages holding various items.

Fan Yu walked to the window, stopping under the most flourishing red plum tree without entering the room. He bowed once to the left and once to the right.

The guests moved to the window and peered out, noticing two men under the red plum trees on either side: one standing on the right playing the flute, and the other seated at a small table on the left with a zither placed before him.

The pages quickly set down the items they were carrying, arranged everything, and then withdrew from sight.The large room with heated walls where everyone gathered was specifically built for admiring plum blossoms. Its south-facing side featured a large window that could be left wide open without letting in the cold, as it was sheltered from the wind and warmed by the heated walls. When the window was propped open for plum blossom viewing, it framed the most vibrant red plum trees in the garden.

Outside the window frame, a maid placed a vase on the right corner of the long table and then retreated from sight along with the page. Another maid stood at the left corner, holding a vase.

The friend skilled in painting was already on the verge of applauding in admiration.

The two red plum branches—one tall and one short, one dynamic and one still—were divided diagonally by the horizontal line of the long table. Combined with the elegantly arranged vessels of varying heights on the table and the window frame adorned with carvings at its corners, the scene formed a perfect composition for a painting!

His desire to paint surged uncontrollably.

But before he could act, Fan Yu, who had been standing motionless, walked to the table and sat down. The cloak he had been wearing was now removed, revealing a moon-white brocade robe.

At that moment, steam suddenly rose from a spot near the table, drawing everyone’s attention to a red clay stove with a ceramic pot sitting atop it. The water inside had come to a boil, filling the air with mist. The once-static scene suddenly came to life, infused with vitality.

The faint sound of a flute, which had faded unnoticed earlier, resumed, soon joined by the melodious strains of a zither. Fan Yu picked up the teapot and began brewing tea.

He was not far from the group, and his every movement was clearly visible.

Yet, by now, no one paid attention to what he was doing.

The red sandalwood table, adorned with exquisitely matched ceramic tea utensils, the warm stove, the misty steam, the vigorous red plum blossoms in the vase, the refined young man, the blooming red plum trees in the distance, the vast expanse of white snow, and the occasional snowflakes drifting down from the trees or the sky—all were accompanied by the intermittent fragrance of plum blossoms and tea.

The scene was so enchanting it evoked sighs of admiration.

“Quick, paper and brush!” someone instructed the page.

Startled by the voice, the group gathered around the large table in the room, some painting and others composing poetry, their inspiration flowing freely as their brushes danced across the paper.

When they finished and set down their brushes, servants brought them cups of hot tea.

To their surprise, the tea contained a plum blossom floating in it. Astonished, they sipped the tea and were met with a blend of plum and tea aromas, followed by a refreshing sweetness that lingered on their tongues. “Was this brewed with plum blossoms?” someone exclaimed in wonder.

As renowned literati and leisurely elites of the capital, they had previously tried steeping plum blossoms in tea, but the results were disappointing—the flavor fell short, and the blossoms looked unappealing, earning them ridicule for “ruining elegance.”

Yet this cup of tea completely overturned their preconceptions.

“Haha!”

Fan Yu had entered unnoticed.

He laughed and explained, “Not at all, not at all. This is first-harvest, pre-Qingming loose tea. After brewing, a plum blossom is added for artistic charm. The true tea flavor comes from the tea leaves themselves.”

“Loose tea?” The group was taken aback.

In their view, loose tea was merely for quenching the thirst of laborers and was unfit for elegant occasions. Only pressed tea could truly embody refinement and sophistication.