Don't be a salted fish, the daily life of the concubine in the palace

The autumn is bleak and the Confucian Temple is dilapidated.

The Confucian Temple was in a semi-abandoned state, and the temple keeper was nowhere to be found. Mr. Yang pushed the door open and heard the sound of weaving. The bluestone floor of the temple was swept clean, and half-dried vegetables were drying on the floor.

Under the eaves, a gray-haired old woman was weaving, and the loom made a creaking sound. Mr. Yang looked dazed, as if he saw his deceased mother.

When he was young, his mother wove cloth under the eaves every day to support his studies in a private school.

"Old man, are you here to burn incense?" Shen's mother stopped weaving. "The temple keeper is not here, you can burn incense on your own."

Mr. Yang lived a simple life and dressed very plainly. He looked like an ordinary old man.

Mr. Yang did not reveal his identity. He nodded calmly: "Yes, I came to burn incense for Confucius."

He walked slowly into the main temple. Although the statues of saints were worn out, they were wiped clean. After Mr. Yang finished burning incense, he caught a glimpse of several old books drying on the window frame and a dozen pieces of rice paper covered with writing.

The book cover was torn, the paper was yellowed, and there were many signs of repairs. Mr. Yang opened a book at random and saw the notes after reading it.

The handwriting is neat, the notes are clear and organized, and the author has a keen eye. Mr. Yang picked up another piece of rice paper. The quality of this rice paper is very poor, and it is easy for ink to smudge when writing. The large piece of rice paper in Mr. Yang's hand is written with a policy on "Emperor's Politics".

It criticizes current problems and is easy to understand. Although it has some flaws, it is generally very good. The last stroke on the rice paper is the three characters "Shen Xiuming".

"He is quite insightful." Mr. Yang stroked his beard.

He put down the rice paper and books and strolled around the Confucian Temple. The Confucian Temple was very small, with only five small rooms besides the main temple. Mr. Yang walked to a small room filled with old books. A young scholar was sitting at the desk, carefully flipping through the yellowed book in his hand.

The book was old and yellowed, and he turned the pages very gently, for fear of tearing it.

Mr. Yang coughed a few times deliberately, but it didn't disturb Shen Xiuming who was reading. Shen Xiuming read for a while and suddenly felt thirsty. He stared at the book and reached for the teacup next to him with his left hand.

He mistook the ink for tea and actually drank two mouthfuls of the ink without noticing and continued to study hard.

Mr. Yang smiled and slowly left the Confucian Temple.

After returning to the carriage outside the Confucian Temple and waiting for a while, Qinghe, the round-faced servant who had gone out to inquire about the news, came back running.

"Master, I have found out. The mother and son living in the Confucian Temple are both from the south. Oh, the old lady weaving in the Confucian Temple is so pitiful. The eldest son died in the border, the eldest daughter was just divorced and sent home, the youngest daughter sold herself to a high-ranking official as a concubine, the youngest son studied hard in the Confucian Temple, and the old lady made ends meet by weaving."

"This old lady is very kind. She has a hard life herself, but she will help her neighbors when they are in trouble."

Mr. Yang stroked his beard and fell into deep thought.

...

...

Two days later.

The autumn was cool, and the sweet-scented osmanthus in the yard had blossomed into rice-sized flowers, filling the yard with elegant sounds. Shen Wei sat in the pavilion in the garden, with a thin wool blanket wrapped around her knees, flipping through the account book sent by "Qixiangzhai".

Rong Mama walked into the pavilion with a cup of hot tea and whispered, "Master, there is news from the Confucian Temple that Mr. Yang has accepted Young Master Shen as his student. Young Master Shen was overjoyed and knelt down in front of the statue of the saint."

"Mr. Yang's wife, Mrs. Luo, went out to enjoy the osmanthus flowers yesterday, and the scar on her cheek was completely covered up."

Shen Wei breathed a sigh of relief.

Everything was going according to her plan. She let Mr. Yang Xuanji be Shen Xiuming's teacher, firstly to help him prepare for the Spring Examination, and secondly to pave the way for Shen Xiuming.

If Shen Xiuming enters officialdom in the future, he will have someone to rely on with Yang Xuanji as his backer.

Shen Wei calculated that her due date should be in March of next year, which is the day when the Spring Examination begins. When the baby is one month old, the list of candidates for the Spring Examination will also be announced.

Shen Xiuming became a tribute scholar and was directly granted an official position, completely leaving the peasant register and crossing the class. Even if it was a ninth-rank official, Shen Wei could be considered to have an official background.

If Shen Xiuming was capable and was lucky enough to get into the top three in the palace examination, he would be at least a seventh-rank official, and Shen Wei would have almost nothing to worry about.

Next, Shen Wei had to focus on the baby in her belly. She had to make all preparations to ensure the baby was born smoothly.

...

Time flies, days pass by, and Shen Wei's belly grows bigger and bigger.

Autumn passed and winter came. After the first snow, the entire Yanjing city was covered in white. Shen Wei was afraid of the cold, and her belly was getting bigger and she was more reluctant to move. Apart from maintaining basic daily exercise, she spent most of her time in the warm room eating and drinking, reading account books, making winter clothes for the King of Yan, and studying gourmet cakes with Li Yao.

The room was warm. In the square copper stove with carved patterns, green charcoal was burning. This kind of "lucky charcoal" was supplied exclusively to the royal family. When it burned, there was no flame, only red light, and the smell was not pungent. The King of Yan specially sent a large box to Shen Wei.

Li Yao carefully picked up the pancake on the charcoal fire with chopsticks and said happily: "Auntie, the plum blossom pancake is ready!"

Plum blossom pancakes are a type of pancake Shen Wei has recently created. The method is very simple. Pick fresh plum blossom petals, clean them, mix them with dough, and knead them into pancakes. Put them on charcoal fire and roast them on both sides before eating. The elegant plum blossom fragrance mixed with the roasted pancake's charred aroma is very unique.

"Aunt, let's send some plum blossom baked cakes to Aunt Zhang. She loves to eat it the most!" Li Yao looked at Shen Wei eagerly.

Shen Wei thought about it and nodded happily: "Okay."

She had been lying down for most of the day, so it was time to go out and walk to relax her muscles. Pregnancy is hard work, and with a heavy belly, Shen Wei's legs gradually became swollen. She needed daily massage or walking to reduce the swelling.

Li Yao put the five baked plum blossom cakes into the food box and walked out of the Glazed Pavilion with Shen Wei.

It had just snowed, and the palace was covered in white. Shen Wei had taken good measures to keep warm. She wore a white fox fur hat, a thick plain velvet and gold satin cotton jacket, a white satin brocade cape, a hot water bottle in her hand, and woolen leather boots on her feet. She looked like a furry ball.

Cailian and Caiping followed Shen Wei closely to prevent her from falling accidentally.

Li Yao happily ran and played in the snow. Passing by the palace garden, Li Yao suddenly saw two snow-white figures in the yard.

It was Liu Ruyan and her maid Xuemei.

Liu Ruyan was wearing a white fox fur cape and standing under the white plum tree. Xuemei was squatting on the ground with a bamboo basket in her hand, picking up the fallen white plum blossoms.

"Madam Liu, how are you?" Li Yao greeted Liu Ruyan happily. "Madam Liu, what are you doing?"