On the night before the spring hunt, the lights of Little Lin Manor burned until the third watch.
The courtyard was filled with woven rattan baskets, each one packed with carefully arranged fruits. Besides watermelons, there were Jade Dew strawberries, Golden Honey melons, and the newly cultivated “Crystal Grapes”—an improved variety from Western Region grape seeds, with translucent, shimmering fruit that was sweet with a hint of tartness.
Each item was individually wrapped in oil paper or small bamboo baskets, with “Little Lin’s Fine Delicacies” labels attached.
A Li, along with several maids, worked in an assembly line—basket-packing, sealing, tying ribbons—so busy they hardly touched the ground.
“Miss, isn’t this ribbon color too plain?” A Li asked, holding up a pale cyan ribbon.
“Plain is better.” Lin Shuying was inspecting a basket of strawberries. “The spring hunt is a grand royal event—we shouldn’t be too flashy; it would look frivolous. Pale cyan, moon-white, soft yellow—these colors are elegant and respectable without being ostentatious.”
Wei Fuyu, helping with the packing, scoffed: “If it were up to me, I’d just lug two big watermelons over—whoever wants to eat, just cut one up. Simple and satisfying!”
Zhao Di’er laughed at her: “You think this is your army barracks handing out rations? This is the spring hunt grounds—those noble ladies and misses live for refinement.”
“Can refinement fill your stomach?” Wei Fuyu retorted. “At last year’s spring hunt, my father brought flatbreads stuffed with braised meat—I ate like a queen!”
Lin Shuying laughed: “Fuyu has a point. So besides all these refined things, we should also prepare something substantial—I’ve had Auntie Liu make two hundred meat-stuffed buns, wrapped in oil paper, ready to eat whenever you’re hungry.”
“Now that’s good!” Wei Fuyu’s eyes lit up. “Extra meat!”
Lin Jingshen sidled over: “I want to go too…”
“What would you go for?” Zhao Di’er glared at him. “You can’t hunt.”
“I can eat!” Lin Jingshen said without shame. “I can help sell the fruits!”
Lin Shuying thought for a moment: “Third Brother does need to go. This counts as a ‘sales exhibition’—we need someone who can handle accounts. Third Brother, you’re in charge of collecting payments and keeping records.”
“Got it!” Lin Zhaoye rubbed his hands together eagerly—ever since he’d started learning business, he’d been especially keen on accounting.
By the time everything was ready, it was deep into the night.
Lin Shuying made one last checklist: fifty fruit baskets, two hundred meat-stuffed buns, one hundred sets of portable utensils, and a medical kit—besides the usual medicines, she’d specially packed extra heat-clearing herbs like mint and honeysuckle, since the spring hunt grounds were outside the city and the weather was warming up—some people might not adjust well.
“Miss, it’s all ready,” A Li said, closing the account book.
“Good. Everyone, go rest. We depart at dawn.”
The crowd dispersed, and the courtyard fell quiet.
Lin Shuying stood under the corridor, looking at the baskets filling the yard, a trace of nervousness in her heart.
This was her first official appearance at a royal event.
Though she bore the title “Jiahe Country Lady” and carried the jade plaque personally bestowed by the Emperor, how would those imperial relatives and court officials’ families see her?
A merchant’s daughter who came from farming?
She shook her head, laughing at herself.
She used to be the “notorious terror” of the wealthiest Lin family, famous throughout the capital. Her eldest sister was a consort with a prince, her elder brother and sister-in-law held significant positions in the business world.
However they saw her—
She was just a melon grower. So what?
“Still not asleep?”
“Your Highness—why are you here at this hour?”
“To see how your preparations are going.” Xiao Shengrui walked over, scanning the courtyard. “Quite an impressive setup. Just be yourself—grow your melons, sell your fruit. Don’t worry too much about formalities.”
“And the Empress?”
“I’ll handle Mother.” Xiao Shengrui looked at her. “Just remember—you’re my guest, not someone trying to please anyone.”
Lin Shuying nodded with a light laugh: “Mm.”
“Oh, by the way,” Xiao Shengrui pulled a small wooden box from his sleeve, “this is for you.”
Lin Shuying opened it—inside was a pair of white jade earrings carved in the shape of little watermelons, charmingly playful.
“This…”
“I had the artisan carve them to look like your watermelons.” Xiao Shengrui said casually. “Wear them tomorrow—they’ll go perfectly with that goose-yellow outfit of yours.”
Warmth bloomed in Lin Shuying’s heart.
This young man was always so thoughtful.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Xiao Shengrui smiled. “Get some rest. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow.”
He left as quickly as he had arrived, like the wind.
Lin Shuying held the pair of earrings in her hand, standing under the moonlight, the corners of her mouth lifting involuntarily.
— —
The spring hunt grounds were located at the royal hunting enclosure ten li outside the capital.
They departed at the hour of Mao and arrived by the end of the hour of Chen.
At the entrance of the hunting grounds, banners fluttered in the wind, and imperial guards stood at attention in full armor, solemn and imposing.
Beyond the entrance lay an open meadow where dozens of tents had already been pitched. The largest, in imperial yellow, was the Emperor’s.
To the left and right were the tents of the Empress and the Consorts, and beyond those were the tents of the princes, princesses, and imperial relatives.
The air was filled with the scent of grass and earth. In the distance, the mountains were lush and green, and occasional horse neighs broke the silence.
“Sister Shuying!” Sixth Princess Xiao Mingyan came fluttering over like a little oriole, dressed today in a fiery red riding outfit, looking dashing and spirited.
“Your Highness.” Lin Shuying bowed.
“Don’t be so formal!” Xiao Mingyan took her hand. “Your tent is right next to mine—I specially asked Mother to arrange it! Come on, I’ll show you!”
The tent wasn’t large, but it was comfortably arranged. The floor was covered with a carpet, with a bed, a table and chairs, and a small folding screen separating a changing area.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Don’t mention it!” Xiao Mingyan leaned in and whispered, “My seventh brother’s tent is right across from yours—he specifically chose that spot.”
Lin Shuying’s cheeks grew warm.
Just then, a commotion arose from outside.
“Is the fruit stall set up yet? Where is it?”
“I heard there are square watermelons? Is that true?”
“I’ll take ten of the rainbow-striped ones—to give as gifts at home!”
Xiao Mingyan’s eyes lit up: “Let’s go! Let’s check it out!”
The fruit stall was set up at the edge of the camp, near the stables.
The stall was simple: a few long tables pushed together to form a counter, laden with fruit baskets.
Next to it was a small canopy sheltering the meat-stuffed buns and tea.
Lin Zhaoye, dressed in a new silk robe, stood behind the counter with his abacus, looking every bit the young shopkeeper.
Wei Fuyu and Zhao Di’er flanked him as guards—though dressed in women’s attire, they stood straight-backed with sharp eyes, clearly not to be trifled with.
By the time Lin Shuying arrived, the stall was already surrounded by people.
Business was surprisingly good.
Lin Zhaoye’s abacus clicked away, and the corners of his mouth were nearly up to his ears.
Lin Shuying breathed a sigh of relief and was about to help when she heard a booming voice: “Make way! Make way! The Marquis of Zhenbei’s household wants twenty watermelons!”
The crowd parted, and a middle-aged man in brocade robes walked over, followed by several servants.
Lin Shuying recognized him—the second steward of the Marquis of Zhenbei’s household, surnamed Wang. The last time Wei Fuyu had fled an arranged marriage, this was the household she’d been running from.
Steward Wang glanced at Lin Shuying with a haughty look: “So you’re the Jiahe Country Lady? Our Marquis says he wants the twenty best watermelons delivered to our tent.”
Before Lin Shuying could speak, Wei Fuyu exploded: “Wang old dog! What’s with the attitude?!”
Only then did Steward Wang notice Wei Fuyu, and his expression changed: “Miss—Miss Wei? What are you doing here?”
“Why can’t I be here?” Wei Fuyu put her hands on her hips. “I’m part of this stall! If you want to buy melons, buy them—no need to throw your weight around!”
Steward Wang stammered: “R-right… about the watermelons…”
“Not selling!” Wei Fuyu waved her hand dismissively. “I’d feed them to a dog before selling to you!”
Low laughter rippled through the crowd.
Steward Wang’s face turned purple, but he didn’t dare offend Wei Fuyu—this young lady’s father was the capital’s garrison commander, and even the Marquis had to show him respect.
He left in a huff, shooting Lin Shuying a glare before he went.
Lin Shuying paid it no mind, but Wei Fuyu was still fuming: “See? This is the family I ran from! Not a decent one among them from top to bottom!”
Lin Shuying patted her shoulder: “Alright, don’t be angry. Let’s keep selling.”
Just then, a gentle voice spoke up: “Country Lady, these watermelons of yours are truly novel.”
Lin Shuying turned and saw a beautiful woman in a pale purple palace dress standing before the stall. She appeared to be in her early thirties, with gentle features and an elegant bearing. Several maids and matrons accompanied her—quite an entourage.
“This is Consort Xian, the mother of the Third Prince,” Xiao Mingyan whispered.
Lin Shuying quickly bowed: “This humble maiden pays respects to Consort Xian.”
“No need for such formality.” Consort Xian smiled. “I’ve tasted your rainbow-striped watermelon—it’s truly sweet. I hear they’re all grown on your estate?”
“Yes.”
“You’re young to have such skill—rare indeed.” Consort Xian nodded. “I’ll take ten, delivered to my tent. And also, leave two of those square watermelons for me.”
“Yes.”
After Consort Xian left, several other consorts and princesses came one after another, having heard of the novelty and wanting to try it for themselves.
Lin Shuying handled each one with composure—neither obsequious nor arrogant, her manner perfectly proper.
Xiao Mingyan watched from the side and whispered: “Sister Shuying, you’re doing wonderfully. Those consorts can be so picky—it’s impressive that you’ve satisfied all of them.”
Lin Shuying smiled: “If the goods are good, people will naturally like them.”
— —
By evening, the spring hunt paused for the day.
Lin Shuying finally had a moment to herself and took a stroll at the edge of the camp. The setting sun painted the grassland gold, and the distant mountains were bathed in a warm glow.
“Tired?”
Xiao Shengrui had appeared beside her at some point, handing her a water skin.
“A little.” Lin Shuying took it and drank—it was sweet and sour plum soup. “What did Your Highness hunt today?”
“A deer and two rabbits,” Xiao Shengrui said. “It was boring. Watching you sell melons was far more interesting.”
Lin Shuying laughed: “What’s interesting about selling melons?”
“Watching you handle all those people so effortlessly.” Xiao Shengrui looked at her. “Shuying, you’re more impressive than I imagined.”
Lin Shuying turned her face away: “You flatter me, Your Highness.”
The two walked side by side, their shadows stretching long across the grass.
“Thank you for today,” Xiao Shengrui suddenly said.
“Thank me for what?”
“Thank you for…” Xiao Shengrui said softly, “being willing to come.”
“Your Highness,” Lin Shuying said quietly, “you’ve done so much for me—I should be thanking you.”
“I’m willing.” Xiao Shengrui interrupted her. “And besides, haven’t you helped me just as much? The Jiangnan relief efforts wouldn’t have gone so smoothly without you.”
The two looked at each other, smiles in their eyes.
In the distance, a horn sounded—the evening banquet was about to begin.
“Come on.” Xiao Shengrui extended his hand. “I’ll walk you there.”
Lin Shuying hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand in his palm.
The young man’s hand was warm and dry, steady as he held hers.
The two walked side by side toward the center of the camp.
The setting sun gilded their silhouettes with a golden edge.
In the Empress’s tent in the distance, she stood by the window, watching this scene, a smile curling at her lips.
“Matron,” she said softly, “the Seventh Son’s taste is indeed not bad.”
The old matron beside her smiled: “You’re right, Your Majesty. The Jiahe Country Lady is indeed a remarkable person.”
“Mm.” The Empress nodded. “Pass the word—give the Country Lady a good seat at the banquet. Place her… beside me.”
“Yes.”
The matron acknowledged, understanding in her heart: this was the Empress’s seal of approval.
The evening banquet was held outdoors, with blazing bonfires and the aroma of roasting meat.
Lin Shuying’s seat was indeed placed near the Empress—though somewhat to the side, it was still a great honor.
Her tablemates were all noblewomen of the imperial clan. When she sat down, they cast curious glances her way.
Lin Shuying handled it with ease—eating and drinking as she pleased, occasionally answering questions about farming in concise, measured words.
The Empress glanced at her from time to time, appreciation in her eyes.
Across the way, Xiao Shengrui watched her, a smile in his eyes, and quietly raised his cup to her.
Lin Shuying lowered her head and took a sip of wine.
It was fruit wine—sweet and light, much like her mood at that moment.
— —
After the banquet ended, Lin Shuying returned to her tent.
A Li helped her remove her makeup, chattering excitedly: “Miss! You made quite a name for yourself today! I heard several madams praising you—not only for growing such fine melons, but for your gracious demeanor…”
Lin Shuying smiled, touching the little watermelon earrings on her ears, and said nothing.
Outside the window, moonlight poured like water.
In the distance, the bonfires still burned, and faint laughter drifted through the night.
The spring hunt would continue for two more days.
Tomorrow was another day.
Between her and Xiao Shengrui, it seemed… something had taken a step closer.
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