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墨書 Inktalez
Da Lang gulped down a bowl of rice porridge, the old porcelain bowl was licked clean, and he licked his lips with lingering satisfaction.
Qin Yaru used corn, having dried out the bran, creating a rare smoothness and delicacy that only the landowners could afford in this era. In an ordinary household, a bride who dared to cook like this would surely be scolded by her in-laws.
"Have another bowl."
Qin Yaru served Da Lang another bowl of porridge. Da Lang was startled and quickly covered the rim of the bowl, shaking his head vigorously: "That's enough, that's enough, Mother, I'm full."
Looking at his expression, it seemed that eating another bowl would be a grave sin. Qin Yaru pursed her lips and didn't insist further. The mother and son tidied up the bowls and chopsticks, stored the leftover porridge in a ceramic jar, and placed it in the water tank to chill with cold water. Da Lang kept mumbling, seemingly uneasy about his mother not being frugal with food.
After finishing the meal, Da Lang obediently sat at the desk to practice writing as usual.
Qin Yaru glanced over a few times; the child was just starting to learn, so his writing was certainly not good—soft and lacking strength—but he was earnest, his face tense with concentration, clearly putting in great effort.
At the usual age of three or four, children are typically mischievous and disobedient; how could he be so well-behaved and sensible? Qin Yaru sighed, her slight resentment towards her son instantly vanished. After all, how could she blame the child? It was her fault.
Back then, Da Lang, confused and crying, refused to leave his mother. She had hardened her heart and handed him over to his father and Princess. Once at Princess's residence, he often sought out his mother. However, being on someone else's territory made it impossible for them to meet.
At that age, it was normal for him not to remember much. Year after year, Princess, being gentle and amiable, treated Da Lang as her own. There was no reason for a child not to grow attached.
In the end, all he remembered was that his so-called biological mother was one of Daddy's concubines. He had always been under Stepmother, considered as Stepmother's son. He couldn't be too close to his mother; it was a matter of propriety; otherwise, it would seem inappropriate!
In this life, if Da Lang did not want that father figure for himself, she would have to do her utmost to teach her son well and not repeat the mistakes of her past life.
Qin Yaru stood dazed for a while, gritting her teeth as she contemplated ways to earn money—wanting to raise her son well, clear Daddy's name, and live a good life; which of these did not require money?
In the past, she was a solitary woman with a child, and making money was no easy task. She could only raise some chickens and ducks, gather their eggs to sell, and take on some sewing jobs. With the rent for the land, she barely managed to fill her stomach halfway.
Qin Yaru frowned. If she remembered correctly, next year would bring both drought and floods, and there would be no food to rely on from the land.
In this lifetime, she didn't want to engage in overly exhausting work that would leave her worn out and unrecognizable. Even if she did work hard, how much money could she really make?
Saving money was merely about increasing income while cutting expenses.
Cutting expenses was impossible; not only could she not save, but she also needed to improve her living conditions.
Qin Yaru propped herself up on her arms, leaning against the window, squinting at the green mountains and clear waters outside. In the Twenty-First Century, although sometimes she sought out hardship alongside Gao Feng, her daily quality of life was absolutely top-notch—eating the best food, wearing the best clothes, using the best products, and living in the best accommodations. Now that she had been reborn, even if her quality of life couldn't compare to the future, it should at least be somewhat similar. She hoped to occasionally buy some meat for Da Lang; that should be a guarantee.
Upon careful consideration, the current Qin Yaru was not the same as before; she lacked no means to earn money. Although she studied forensic medicine, her curiosity about that unfamiliar world led her to know a bit about subjects like chemistry and physics. In her spare time, she would even melt glass to make pottery or occasionally brew a barrel of strong liquor or medicinal wine for Gao Feng to satisfy his cravings and maintain his health.
Of course, glass wasn't particularly rare now; medicinal jade was quite common, and glassware had become widespread. It was impossible to expect to exchange a single glass for a fortune!
However, this business wasn't entirely unfeasible. At least for now, this technology was still held by a limited number of people. Glass was inexpensive and still had room for operation.
Moreover, her original profession was as a doctor; healing people was also a means of making a living.
But now, with nothing in her home, earning that first bucket of gold was truly difficult. Furthermore, before severing ties with that County Lord, she couldn't be too high-profile to avoid unnecessary complications.
Although the Northern Song Dynasty had a thriving commerce sector and did not suppress frequent trade activities, there were no restrictions on merchant offspring participating in the imperial examination as long as they did not join merchant associations or engage in "commercial registration." However, the deeply rooted concept of social classes—scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants—meant that if one focused solely on business, they might be looked down upon. As a woman, reputation was important; such matters were difficult for her to handle alone. She needed to find someone trustworthy to assist her!
Qin Yaru had been contemplating for a long time and suddenly felt speechless. There was no rush in making plans; for now, she should think about how to discreetly earn some money to ensure a worry-free life.
"I still need to collect the calligraphy and paintings of ancient masters, as well as antiques and curios. Once I return, I can make a fortune. How can I not work hard?" Qin Yaru smiled, her worries dissipating. Her face, beautiful like a peach blossom, instantly radiated even more charm. Da Lang occasionally looked up and was taken aback—Lock Pillar Brother and Sister Mei were the most beautiful wives in Jiunzhou, yet his own mother was clearly much more attractive!
In the past, Qin Yaru always wore a frown; even with her beauty, it barely showed. Da Lang was still a child, sensitive to his surroundings. He sensed his mother's depression and naturally felt uncomfortable, making it difficult for him to be particularly close to her.
When his father appeared, gentle and refined, handsome and dashing—fitting the grand image of a father in a boy's heart—Da Lang had grown up hearing only good things about Chen Wulang. Everyone around him praised his father’s talents and predicted he would become a high-ranking official who would take him to enjoy a life of luxury. Now that it seemed true, even though he had never met this father, he couldn't help but feel a bit of admiration.
"Consort Qin, are you home?"
Qin Yaru was just about to find some paper to jot down her thoughts when she heard a faint voice at the door, sounding almost frightened.
After thinking for a moment, she realized it sounded like Zhao Di, the eldest daughter of Zhou Erlang's family. She quickly got up and went outside to avoid disturbing Da Lang while he practiced writing, responding with, "Zhao Di?"
The outside fell silent for a moment. Just when Qin Yaru thought Zhao Di must have assumed no one was home and was about to leave, a figure quietly peeked over the fence.
It was a girl around sixteen or seventeen years old. Her appearance was merely delicate; there was a hint of youthful shyness in her eyes. Her hair was glossy black, and with her head lowered, she appeared bashful and timid.
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