Chapter 61 – Settling In

Yin Zhi had the most restful sleep of her life.

She had breakfast alone the next morning, energized and full of spirit. “Let’s go,” she said decisively.

In the end, Kui’er didn’t have to move the orchid pots herself.

Back at the Yin household, Yin Zhi only had three maids—senior, middle, and junior—though their tasks were divided between indoor and outdoor, clothing and money handling, most of the work was done collectively.

Kui’er, in particular, had worked her way up from a menial servant to a personal maid. Diligent and hands-on, she never shirked her duties, no matter her position. Even if the oil bottle tipped, she would be the one to pick it up rather than calling someone else to do it.

The atmosphere in Yin Zhi’s courtyard had always been one of teamwork.

But now, in Jingrong Court, there was a whole crowd of maids. How could Lüyan and Hexin let the young mistress's personal maid roll up her sleeves to move such heavy flower pots herself—huffing and puffing all the way to Madam Shen?

If Madam Shen saw that, she might think they were bullying someone from Huaixi. That would be a grave injustice.

Although Lüyan and Hexin didn’t carry the pots themselves, they assigned the task to two strong and able-bodied maids specially selected from the laborer ranks.

Kui’er was quite frustrated.

Yin Zhi understood why. Back in Huaixi, Kui’er had been considered competent—hardworking, literate, and good with numbers. But now in the capital, she was being outshined by Lüyan and Hexin.

The gap was discouraging.

“Keep a calm mindset,” Yin Zhi said. “This is the capital, after all.”

“My uncle-in-law is only a fourth-rank official now. If we were in a noble prince’s household, among truly elite families, not just you—even I might not be able to measure up to their maids.”

“So why compare at all? Just focus on doing your job well.”

“You’ve been doing fine these past few days.”

She then asked how Yunjun was doing.

Yunjun had a small child and was busy during the first few days after entering the household, helping to unpack a mountain of boxes. Now that things had settled, Yin Zhi allowed her to focus on nursing her baby.

“Ying’er said that Sister Baojin came by yesterday, saw everything was fine, and went back.”

“Good. Tell her and everyone else not to worry. My brother and his group haven’t even left yet—things need to be arranged step by step.”

Yin Zhi had two dowry maid families, including Yunjun and her husband, Baojin. For now, the Shen family had temporarily settled them in. There weren’t tasks for them yet—they were waiting for Yin Zhi’s instructions.

No rush.

After all, it was only the seventh day of her marriage. Yin Zhi was still adapting, and so were they.

As they chatted, they arrived at Madam Shen’s quarters. Yin Zhi presented the orchids proudly: “One for Father-in-law, and one for you, Aunt.”

She had started addressing Madam Shen and Master Shen separately—“aunt” felt more natural than “mother-in-law.”

Madam Shen was delighted. “These are well-raised. Your father-in-law will surely love them.”

They chatted a bit about gardening before Yin Zhi took her leave. Conversation is good—but best not to linger too long and tire others.

Such was life in the inner residence: women accompanied by women. It’s often said that from a practical standpoint, a mother-in-law is more significant than a husband.

Sometimes she wouldn’t see Shen Ti for days, but she saw Madam Shen every day.

Madam Shen was fond of her too.

“She always has something to say—never dull,” she remarked to Nanny Qin.

Nanny Qin replied, “Of course! We’re from the same place. Only because the young master married her do we get days like these.”

That comment made Madam Shen imagine what life might’ve been like with Feng Luoyi as her daughter-in-law...

It wouldn’t have been bad, necessarily, but certainly not as relaxed. With Feng Luoyi, she’d always have to maintain her image as “Madam Shen.” With Yin Zhi, she could just be “Aunt from the Yin family in Huaixi.”

Back in Jingrong Court, Lüyan reported, “Changchuan brought a message: the Hanlin scholar will accompany the elder uncles today, but he’ll return tonight.”

Yin Zhi’s lips twitched.

Was he trying to balance his nights evenly between households?

No need—she’d slept wonderfully last night. He probably had too. Once the maids were properly trained to keep their mouths shut, this balancing act wouldn’t be necessary.

“Poor thing,” she said lightly.

Entertaining relatives by touring local attractions that you’ve seen a hundred times was truly exhausting—and boring.

She instructed Kui’er to give two taels of silver to Pu’er. “One for Baojin’s family and one for Wang Baogui’s. They all have families—let them buy any small necessities they need.”

Pu’er took the silver and went off, led by a laborer maid to the servants’ living quarters.

Yunjun’s husband, Zhao Baojin, had a rhyming name with the other steward, Wang Baogui—Pu’er found it amusing.

When she arrived, Yunjun was nursing her baby. As Pu’er played with the little one’s toes, she relayed Yin Zhi’s message.

“Such a generous amount!” Yunjun exclaimed.

Pu’er replied, “The young mistress said things are more expensive in the capital. She also said if you need anything else, just go to her directly.”

“I know,” said Yunjun. “But for now, we don’t lack anything. When we arrived, the Shen stewards had already prepared everything—bedding, supplies, all complete.”

“Must be Nanny Qin’s doing,” Pu’er said.

Yunjun then asked about life in the inner residence these days.

Pu’er lowered her voice conspiratorially. “The Hanlin and the concubine consummated their marriage. Our—uh—young mistress isn’t in a rush at all, which is driving Kui’er mad.”

Yunjun sighed, “That’s just how she is. You can call her calm and steady, or… a bit dull. While other girls scramble for attention like roosters in a cockfight, she just smiles and watches from the sidelines. Sigh…”

Pu’er asked, “Where’s Brother Baojin?”

“Uncle Baogui took him out,” Yunjun replied.

After chatting a bit, Pu’er went to the main house where Wang Baogui’s family was staying. Their family had more children—two sons and a daughter—so the Shen stewards gave them the main house: three rooms with two side chambers.

Yunjun’s family had just one baby, so they were given the west wing.

For now, only these two families lived in the courtyard. The east wing was locked but empty—standard practice, so others wouldn’t move in without permission. If they did, eviction later would be messy.

Pu’er handed the other tael of silver to Wang Baogui’s wife, who was thrilled.

She asked, “Where did Uncle Baogui go?”

“He said they had nothing to do, so he took Baojin and the boys to look over our properties,” the woman replied.

A poor girl’s dowry might consist of two pieces of cloth, a silver bracelet, and a brass-trimmed trunk. A wealthy girl’s dowry included land, houses, silver, and shops.

Yin Zhi’s dowry included a mulberry grove and 100 mu of paddy fields in Huaixi, managed by her family. The mulberry profits went to the Shen family; the paddy field profits were hers.

In the capital, she owned 100 mu of dry land near the suburbs, a two-courtyard home on Huaishu Street, and shops on Chang’an Gate and Changkou Street. These were all hers.

Fields yield produce, houses and shops earn rent—they all brought income.

But someone had to manage them. That’s what her dowry stewards were for.

Back in Jingrong Court, Yin Zhi, Kui’er, and Ying’er resumed unpacking. Pu’er returned and joined in.

These were Yin Zhi’s personal belongings, so the Jingrong Court maids only helped carry things. How to organize it all was up to Yin Zhi and Kui’er.

By the seventh day of marriage, they finally unpacked, organized, and cataloged every trunk.

No small feat.

It was essentially a major move. Moving into her husband’s home was like relocating from her maiden home to a new city.

And moving always left people exhausted.

Kui’er took extra care with the bookkeeping.

Yin Zhi teased, “Who said before that practicing handwriting was pointless?”

Kui’er blushed. “It was pointless then. Now it’s useful!”

The records kept by Lüyan and Hexin for Shen Ti’s storeroom were far superior to Kui’er’s scribbles—totally outclassed.

Kui’er was determined to polish her handwriting so as not to embarrass the Huaixi Yin family.

As Yin Zhi sipped tea, she asked Pu’er how things were over at Yunjun’s.

“Everything’s in good shape,” Pu’er reported. “Neat and intact.”

Yin Zhi asked if she’d seen Wang Baogui and Zhao Baojin.

“They went out to inspect our properties,” said Pu’er.

Yin Zhi perked up. “Whose idea was that?”

Pu’er thought a moment. “Probably Uncle Baogui’s.”

“How do you know?”

“His wife said he took everyone out. And Sister Baojin said her husband went because Uncle Baogui called him.”

Yin Zhi was more familiar with Zhao Baojin—she hadn’t met him often, but had heard about him from Yunjun.

She didn’t know Wang Baogui at all.

He was an “air-dropped” steward assigned by Chairman Yin himself. She trusted her grandfather’s judgment—he wouldn’t set her up for failure—but still, she needed to get to know Baogui better.

Hearing Pu’er’s account, she nodded thoughtfully.

The morning had been tiring, but the most tedious tasks were done. Yin Zhi had officially established herself in Jingrong Court.

After lunch and a nap, she awoke halfway and heard movement outside. Rubbing her eyes, she got up, lifted the bed curtain—and saw Shen Ti had returned.

Startled, she asked, “Why are you back so early?”

Her eyes were wide round, still groggy.

Her tone—unguarded and genuine—made it clear: she wasn’t exactly happy to see him.

Shen Ti nearly laughed in exasperation.

He glanced at her. “You have sleep in your eyes.”

She hurried to rub them. “Nonsense! No, I don’t!”

When she looked up again, the rascal had already slipped past the screen into the washroom.

“Shen Ti!”

She had once heard mothers say that children grow quickly—changing every day. Yin Zhi hadn’t been a mother before, so she hadn’t felt anything about that saying.

But now she truly understood.

Ever since Shen Ti had lost his innocence, he was changing fast—practically by the day.

His respectful awe for “Sister” was fading. More and more, he was trying to assert dominance between them.

Yin Zhi felt unexpectedly wistful.

The innocent, easily swayed “little brother” had been so sweet.

She had thought that phase would last at least half a year. Who knew he’d sprint ahead so quickly?

In the washroom, Shen Ti splashed water on his face and took a towel from Hexin to clean his hands.

Last night at Feng Luoyi’s, he’d vaguely sensed something was different—but in the heat of passion, hadn’t analyzed it.

Now, he realized the contrast.

Last night, Feng Luoyi had looked immaculate from head to toe—elegant, composed, every detail perfect.

But Yin Zhi?

Her hair was messy, her collar open, yawning and stretching lazily.

Feng Luoyi cared about him—deeply.

Yin Zhi… from the Yin family to the Shen family, it seemed she’d merely changed houses. She genuinely didn’t care about her husband.