Chapter 25: Perfect Ten

“Seventh Young Master, it’s the first day of the month. It’s time for your medicinal bath.”

“Mm, prepare it.”

Stepping into the steaming wooden tub, Qi Biao closed his eyes.

Ever since he could remember, he had to soak in a medicinal bath every few days. At first, it was no different from an ordinary bath, aside from the medicinal scent. Later, he began to feel as though his body was basking in the warm winter sun, utterly relaxed. But then, despite the steaming water, moments after entering, he would feel as if he had plunged into an icy abyss, freezing to the bone. At six, he started experiencing a numbing itch. As he grew older, the sensations during the bath became increasingly bizarre. Last year, the pain began—agonizing from the moment he stepped in, seeping deep into his bones.

“Ah—”

A sharp pang of pain forced a cry from Qi Biao.

“Seventh Young Master, can you endure it? Should we pause for a moment?”

“It’s fine. Continue.”

A small face covered in blood blisters, large eyes filled with disdain, a frightened and listless expression, the back of a head that ignored him, a curled-up little topknot, a tiny body curled like a shrimp in the arms of an old nanny. Qi Biao shook his head. What was happening? He should be gritting his teeth in pain, sweating profusely, unable to focus on anything else. Yet these images kept flashing in his mind, and the bone-deep pain seemed to lessen.

Lin Fang buried her head in Nanny Liu’s embrace, not wanting to look at Qi Biao. Unexpectedly, she fell asleep. When she woke, the first thing she saw was a face covered in a thick beard, dark skin, and messy hair. A glance at his clothes—wrinkled like pickled vegetables, white? Or maybe dirt-colored.

Huh? Li Kui? No, the Li Kui on TV didn’t have such nice eyes.

“Step back. Go bathe already. Don’t scare Fang’er.”

As soon as the words were spoken, the bearded man retreated a few steps, and Second Grandmother took his place. Hah, it seemed she had yanked him away. Interesting.

“Scare her? I’ve never met a child who wasn’t afraid of me. This Fang’er woke up and stared right at me—almost scared me instead.”

Wow, thunder. Lin Fang instinctively squinted.

Madam Tong picked up Lin Fang and turned to the bearded man. “Fang’er, this is your Second Grandfather.”

“Father?” Well, she still couldn’t say “grandfather,” so he’d have to settle for being on the same level as Second Grandmother.

Nanny Liu lifted the curtain and entered. “Second Elder, Second Madam, the bath is ready. Please proceed.”

“Second Elder? Am I that old?”

“Giggle.” With that beard, who else could be older?

“Go clean up already. Do you want the whole family to starve waiting for you?”

With Madam Tong’s words, Lin Zhongsi obediently left.

While Lin Zhongsi bathed, Madam Tong began unpacking her husband’s luggage. One large bundle contained new clothes and socks for everyone in the family, two sets each, from the eldest to the youngest. Inside was a smaller bundle—four tiny outfits, a set of gold children’s jewelry, and a jade Guanyin pendant. These were gifts from their daughter for Lin Fang. Tears welled in Madam Tong’s eyes. Cuili was her only daughter, married off to one of her husband’s subordinates. The son-in-law was handsome, from a good family, and treated her well—but they lived so far away. It seemed they wouldn’t be visiting this year either.

When Lin Zhongsi returned from his bath and saw his wife quietly weeping, he gently embraced her. “Don’t be sad. Cuili has given us a grandchild. The child is too young to travel, and it’s cold. Once the weather warms, they’ll visit—all three of them.”

Leaning into her husband’s arms, Madam Tong closed her eyes. As the family’s only elder, she could truly relax only during these rare days when her husband was home. But the time was always too short.

“Liu’er, I’m sorry. If not for marrying me, you wouldn’t have had to resign as a constable, leave home, and stay in this small place to fulfill filial duties for me. Wasting your skills, living alone…”

“Ha, why say such things? If not for marrying you, how could I have such a peaceful life? If you really feel guilty, finish your work quickly and retire to be with me.”

“Mm. Soon.”

By the time the family gathered at the dinner table, Lin Zhongsi’s appearance had transformed. The beard was gone, his drab clothes replaced with bright red like everyone else’s. His expression was warm and festive, the imposing aura diminished—almost a different person. His pale chin and cheeks contrasted with his dark face, making him look like a black pig with its bristles shaved.

If the dignified constable knew his grandniece had compared him to a pig, he might pop a vein. Lin Fang stifled a laugh at her own analogy, but it fit perfectly. Back home, every New Year, they’d slaughter a pig. If the hair wasn’t fully scraped off, this was exactly how it looked.

Lin Fang had to admit, Second Grandfather was quite handsome. Her father resembled him, but Lin Zhongsi’s years as a constable gave him an intimidating presence. Strangers dared not meet his gaze, and criminals trembled at his name. Last night, she’d overheard her parents discussing how his reputation alone could silence crying children.

Six adults sat at one table, six children at another—neatly arranged by Nanny Liu. But Lin Zhongsi objected. With a booming voice, he shifted the eldest son’s family and the second son’s family to the children’s table, while the kids flocked to the elders. Lin Fang ended up on Madam Tong’s lap, turning the six-to-six into eight-to-four, leaving Nanny Liu flustered.

Lin Zhongsi waved her off. “Enough, Nanny Liu. It’s the New Year—go celebrate with your own family. Let us talk freely.”

Nanny Liu hesitated, glancing at Li Cuimei. The mistress had brought only her today, not wanting too many servants around. If she left, who would serve them?

Li Cuimei nodded. “Go. Uncle is rarely home for the New Year. We’ll manage. Your family in the central courtyard should enjoy the festivities too.”

Kneeling to kowtow, Nanny Liu left, deeply moved. As a servant, she spent her life serving others. Rarely did her whole family gather for a meal—holidays were the busiest times. If not for the sixth young miss’s favor, she’d never have this chance. From now on, she’d protect the child with her life.

Today’s feast, prepared by Li Cuihong and Nanny Liu, was almost entirely meat: red dates and longan chicken, braised fried fish, red-cooked lamb, cassia stir-fried jelly, spinach tofu rolls, soy-braised pork knuckle, spiced beef, cold sliced meat jelly, marinated tofu, and cabbage-wrapped shrimp. Ten dishes—a “Perfect Ten Banquet,” symbolizing family unity and completeness.

Slurp. Lin Fang shamelessly drooled. She hated her tiny body—small appetite, tiny portions. After a few bites of each dish and sips of chicken soup, her little belly was full.

The food reminded her of her father’s cooking in her past life. Every dish was her favorite, especially the cold meat jelly.

Back then, without a fridge, this dish was only made in winter—exclusively for New Year’s. Translucent, studded with minced spinach and bell peppers, vibrant red and green. It wobbled but held firm when picked up, slippery yet chewy. Mixed with vinegar and chili oil, she couldn’t stop eating it. Her family always had to take the plate away, worried she’d overeat and hurt her stomach or heart.

The price of indulgence? Sleeping like the dead. She couldn’t handle spice—a happy kind of self-torture.

The meat jelly was cold, so Madam Tong hadn’t given her any. But seeing Lin Fang’s longing stare, she chuckled and offered a tiny piece.

A lick confirmed chili oil. Lin Fang clenched her jaw. This was her first New Year in this world—she didn’t want to sleep through it. Hold back. There’d be other chances. Gulp.

“Clang! Bang!”

“Crack! Snap!”

“Crash—”

“Whoosh—”

“Ha—”

“Nice—”

What was this? Weren’t sharp tools forbidden during New Year’s? Even needles were put away last night. Yet here they were, going at it with real weapons—Second Grandmother vs. Second Grandfather, Father vs. Second Uncle, then switching opponents. Spears, flexible swords, broadswords, three-section staffs, whips of all kinds—thick and long, short and toy-like, even Second Grandmother’s usual herding whip.

Lin Fang gaped. She’d only seen such scenes on TV, and even then, just for spectacle. In person, it was dizzying, not particularly entertaining. Yet the others watched enthralled—no, more like fired up. Lin Meng and Lin Wu cheered the loudest, itching to join.

The courtyard wasn’t small, but as an arena, it was cramped. Lin Fang worried the yard would be wrecked by the time they finished.