Chapter 44: The Rebirth of the Concubine’s Daughter, Part 4

Although it was just a picnic of eating, drinking, and enjoying the scenery, Mu Yin remembered they were outdoors. So even as she ate, her manners remained graceful. For convenience, she even found a clean reed stalk to use as a straw.

The cups were specially made as well. After all, the protagonist in this world was someone reborn, not a transmigrator, so she had managed to recreate milk tea and even started selling it in her shop. Business was excellent. She also sold tea—brewed with boiling water—which was also very popular. After all, the tea leaves of this era were, to put it mildly, rather disappointing: mixed with all sorts of things and spices, boiled more like a soup than a beverage. Naturally, she did not forget her own family, always seeking to add to her bargaining chips, to show them she was far from spent.

Nibbling on snacks like small dried fish and bean curd, paired with milk tea, Mu Yin felt utterly content. Chunfen also enjoyed a cup of milk tea and could eat as she pleased, but ever cautious, she kept an eye on their surroundings, lest anyone see her young mistress in such a relaxed state.

Though there was no one nearby, that didn’t mean the distant view was unobserved. Not far away stood the only building in the area—a five-story tower built for visitors to climb and enjoy the panorama. At that moment, someone stood on the third floor, gazing in their direction.

“Master, what are you looking at?” The young page had noticed his master had been standing on the third floor, staring in one direction for some time, and couldn’t help but ask curiously.

“It’s nothing,” the young master replied, withdrawing his gaze with a slight smile. He had simply noticed someone interesting.

Mu Yin spent most of her time there eating, drinking, and avoiding crowds. When the time came, she gathered her people and returned, coincidentally meeting up with her two elder sisters. Both wore smiles and kept glancing in a certain direction.

Following their gaze, Mu Yin spotted two handsome young men. It was clear her sisters had taken a fancy to them. It made sense; both sisters were a year older, out in society since last year, likely with suitors already in mind but perhaps not yet decided.

Clicking her tongue in amusement, the Liu sisters turned to see their younger sister wearing a teasing smile. Their faces flushed red with embarrassment. One reached out to swat Mu Yin, scolding, “What’s with that look? You little mischief!”

“Mercy, sister! I won’t do it again!” Mu Yin cried, dodging away as she ran, her voice drawing curious glances from those nearby. Her sisters, faces even redder, hurried after her.

Back home, they washed up before heading to their stepmother Zhang’s quarters. “It seems you all enjoyed yourselves today,” Zhang remarked, smiling at the three girls.

“It was alright,” Mu Yin replied, seeing her sisters too shy to speak. She blinked and answered for them.

“So, did you meet any promising young men?” Zhang, knowing her other two girls’ situations were already settled, turned to Mu Yin. She understood that Mu Yin had considerable say in her own marriage, but still needed to show concern.

“No,” Mu Yin shook her head.

“That’s fine. Go out more often; perhaps you’ll meet someone,” Zhang said kindly. After all, Mu Yin had only just turned twelve, and it was still some time before her coming-of-age ceremony at fifteen.

“All right. By the way, Mother, now that I’m twelve, may I visit my shops?” Until now, Mu Yin had managed her stores from afar—she had only overseen the layout and given advice on renovations, rarely visiting in person.

“Of course,” Zhang nodded. “Just let me know the day before you go out.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Mu Yin said, her smile dimpling her cheeks.

“All right, go and rest now. You must be tired after a day out,” Zhang dismissed them.

“We’ll take our leave, then.” The three girls bowed and left, each heading to her own courtyard, bidding each other farewell along the way.

Back in her rooms, Mu Yin took a nap, then got up to practice her calligraphy and read. Later, she strolled outside to bask in the sun. Though she secretly practiced some physical training, it was only enough to keep her fit, not particularly strong. Still, she was in much better shape than most young ladies of her class, who would be out of breath after a few steps.

The next day, Mu Yin asked for and received permission to go out, as she had mentioned the day before. After three years in the capital, she still had little impression of the city. If she could choose, she certainly wouldn’t have come to ancient times.

First, she visited her two shops. Seeing the crowds, she didn’t go inside, but judging by the throngs, business was thriving. Although the Liu family also ran similar shops, they deliberately avoided opening in her area.

Satisfied with her shops, Mu Yin set out to explore elsewhere. Naturally, she headed for the busiest street in the capital. The avenue was lined with dazzling shops, and street vendors called out constantly. Nearby was a lake, its shores crowded with restaurants where guests could enjoy a meal while admiring the view.

Arriving on the bustling street, Mu Yin veiled her face and stepped down from her carriage, instructing the driver to wait. She was accompanied by two maids and two female guards. In this world, noble girls were always attended not just by maids but also by female bodyguards for protection. As a daughter of a concubine, she had been assigned two since childhood, though they spent most of their time training and only accompanied her when she went out.

She had met them two years ago and secretly taught them the first level of her physical training. The first level only strengthened the body and gave no special abilities.

Shops on both sides of the street displayed a dazzling array of goods. Though not as exquisite as those she had seen in her previous two lives, there was a unique charm to them. This was why Mu Yin had learned embroidery—no girl could truly resist beauty, and even those without talent might yearn for it. Thankfully, she had the gift.

She bought some novel trinkets and ornaments from a stall and gradually made her way to a restaurant that caught her attention for its crowds and the unusually loud voices inside. In ancient times, it was rare to see such lively chatter in a dining place, as people were generally quiet while eating and sleeping.

Curious, she entered and discovered that the customers were all scholars. She went upstairs for tea, and, listening to their conversation, realized they were candidates for this year’s spring imperial exams, which had taken place just a few days earlier in early March. She recalled hearing some gossip about matchmaking for successful candidates, but it had slipped her mind.

Now, with the nine-day exam over, these scholars were waiting for the results. Their discussion centered on this year’s exam topics—much like students comparing answers after a test. Though Mu Yin didn’t fully understand the classical essays and policy arguments, she grasped the gist. In matters of writing, after all, there are as many interpretations as there are readers.

Thus, no one agreed with anyone else; each believed their own understanding was correct. Mu Yin couldn’t comment, and even after three years of studying classical literature, she still found much of it incomprehensible.