Being a second wife is difficult: I'm busy raising children in the Earl's mansion.

The north wind howled all night, and when I opened the courtyard gate in the morning, the thin layer of ice on the stone steps crunched under my feet.

Jiang Wan stood under the eaves wrapped in a thick cloak, watching Qiu Tang add charcoal to the charcoal brazier with a copper kettle. The flames had just started to rise when they were pushed back down by the cold wind.

She was still clutching a piece of paper in her fingers, which Liu Mama had handed in this morning under the guise of delivering charcoal.

There wasn't much written on it, just one line.

—The goods that arrived today may have problems.

Jiang Wan folded the paper twice, tucked it into her sleeve, and turned to go into the study.

In less than half an hour, the front yard was in an uproar.

When Qiu Tang rushed in, her breath was still puffing out white air: "Madam, the charcoal we ordered has arrived, but something's wrong with it. I had the porters untie the sacks to check. The top layer was whole charcoal, but the bottom was full of broken pieces, and there were even a few stones painted black mixed in."

"Steward Wang wouldn't let me check in detail. He only said that the charcoal kiln was reducing production in winter, and it was already rare to get one of this quality. He also said that if Madam didn't accept it, there probably wouldn't be a second batch this year."

After listening, Jiang Wan put down her teacup, the bottom of which tapped softly on the table.

Can't it be fixed?

The way Steward Wang said it made it sound like the manor couldn't survive the winter without his batch of charcoal mixed with stones.

She stood up, pulled the thick cloak from the shelf, and draped it over her shoulders: "Where is he?"

"The front yard corner gate, the truck hasn't been unloaded yet!"

Jiang Wan stepped out of the doorway, the hem of her cloak billowing in the wind and slapping against the doorframe with a loud crack.

Qiu Tang jogged after her, still clutching the inventory receipt she had just copied.

Three handcarts were parked at the corner gate of the front yard, with sacks piled high.

The porters hunched their shoulders and stamped their feet in the cold wind. When they saw Jiang Wan come out, they spontaneously made way for each other, revealing Manager Wang standing at the front.

Steward Wang cupped his hands in a respectful gesture: "Madam, this charcoal is indeed not very good-looking, but this is the quality of the goods delivered from the kiln this year, and I transported it back according to the regulations..."

Jiang Wan walked to the cart, casually pulled out a burlap sack, and untied the rope.

She flipped it over; the surface of the charcoal was still somewhat presentable. But as she dug deeper, all she could hold in her palm was black, grime, along with two stones painted black. They were heavy in her hand, much heavier than the charcoal.

She threw the stone at Steward Wang's feet, and it rolled twice before stopping in front of his shoe.

"Whose rules are we following?"

Jiang Wan's voice wasn't loud, but the porters around her all stopped what they were doing.

Manager Wang was speechless for a moment after hearing her words; he opened his mouth, then closed it again.

More and more servants gathered around.

Those adding charcoal, those sweeping the yard, and even the two kitchen helpers pretended to pass by with baskets, but their feet remained rooted to the spot under the eaves.

Jiang Wan poured the charcoal ash from her palm back into the sack, clapped her hands, and turned to Qiu Tang, saying, "Take a sack to Songhe Hall and weigh it in the courtyard."

"Madam?" Steward Wang's expression changed. "Why bother the old lady with such a trivial matter..."

"A small matter?" Jiang Wan tilted her head to look at him, her tone indifferent. "The loss of three hundred catties is a small matter, the charcoal mixed with stones is also a small matter. Then tell me, Steward Wang, what would be considered a big matter?"

Manager Wang was speechless, his face turning pale and then red, but he dared not stop her any longer.

Qiu Tang was quick and efficient. She told two old women to carry a bag of charcoal and head towards Songhe Hall.

Jiang Wan followed behind, and Manager Wang hesitated for a couple of steps before finally catching up.

The gate to Songhetang was open, and the old lady was sitting on the porch basking in the sun.

A bowl of hot tea was placed beside him, and a thin blanket made of gray squirrel fur was draped over his lap.

A bowl of hot tea was beside him, and a thin blanket of gray squirrel fur was draped over his lap. He squinted as he watched the withered branches of the old elm tree in the corner of the yard sway in the wind.

Hearing footsteps, she didn't look up. Only after Jiang Wan approached and curtsied did she slowly put down her teacup.

"What's going on here?" The old woman put down her teacup. "In this freezing weather, you're bringing a bag of charcoal into my yard to dry?"

Jiang Wan didn't rush to answer. Instead, she stepped aside to make way for the two old women to place the bag of charcoal in the open space in the center of the courtyard.

"Grandma, I shouldn't be bothering you with such trivial matters, but I'm a little unsure about the winter charcoal that's being stored today, and I'd like to ask for your opinion."

The old lady said "Oh," and then her gaze fell on the bag of charcoal.

She didn't ask any more questions, but just gave a look behind her.

Granny Gui understood, deftly brought out a copper scale, spread an old cloth on the ground, and poured the contents of the burlap sack onto the cloth with a splash.

The debris, black ash, and those few stones painted black were all laid out in the open.

Granny Gui bent down and rummaged through the debris for a while, picked up a stone from the shards, weighed it in her hand, and held it up to the old lady.

"Grandma, look, these are pebbles, coated with a layer of black paint, mixed in with charcoal to make them look real. You really can't tell unless you touch them."

The old woman didn't take the stone, and didn't even glance at it.

She merely raised her eyelids, her gaze slowly sweeping over Steward Wang standing at the door.

Manager Wang's face was as stiff as a frozen rag—smelly and rigid, with a thin layer of sweat seeping from his forehead.

His throat bobbed, and his voice tightened: "Grandma, it was like this when it arrived at the kiln. I didn't even open the bag to check it carefully..."

"Didn't you open the package to check it carefully?" The old lady retorted verbatim, "You're the purchasing manager. If you don't check the goods when they arrive, who will? The First Madam?"

The courtyard was so quiet that only the sound of the wind whistling through the eaves could be heard.

Several maids who had been hiding under the eaves pretending to sweep the floor stopped what they were doing and began to peek over the wall.

The old woman was silent for a moment, her gaze falling on the bag of charcoal spread out on the ground, as if she were looking at something she had been tired of for a long time.

"Since you can't inspect the goods, the purchases made by the outer courtyard will henceforth be fully audited by the First Madam."

Her voice wasn't loud, but everyone in the courtyard could hear her clearly: "From today onwards, the warehouse will not accept any goods without the First Madam's signature."

"Anyone who dares to secretly pass things in will be treated as an embezzler."

Manager Wang's knees buckled, and he instantly shrank by half.

He never imagined that he only wanted to test the limits of the First Madam and see if he could still act recklessly after the change of the head mistress of the mansion.

Little did he know that this kick would shatter his decades-old face.

At this moment, he knelt on the ground, with only one thought in his mind: If I had known this would happen, I would never have stuck my neck out.

He moved his lips a few times, as if he wanted to say something, but the old lady had already looked away, picked up the bowl of still steaming tea, as if she had already finished speaking.

Jiang Wan curtsied and said, "Yes, daughter-in-law has remembered."

When she came out, most of the people in the courtyard had already left, leaving only a few old women tidying up the bag of charcoal and the cloth spread on the ground.

Qiu Tang followed behind her, walking quickly for a while before speaking in a low voice, "Madam, the way Steward Wang looked just now..."

"He deserves it." Jiang Wan adjusted her cloak. "A person with nothing to hide won't be afraid of a scale."

Qiu Tang thought for a moment and nodded silently.

Just as the master and servant stepped into the passageway, they heard hurried footsteps behind them.

Turning around, I saw Granny Zhou emerge from behind a pillar, holding a piece of paper in her hand.

Taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention, he quickly stuffed it into Jiang Wan's sleeve, turned around and left without saying a word.

Jiang Wan unfolded the note, which contained only a few lines of writing, the handwriting hurried, as if it had been written in a rush.

"Last December, 300 shi of rice and flour were purchased and stored, but only 210 shi were actually distributed to each department. The remaining 90 shi were reported as 'loss due to rodent infestation.' In the spring of the same year, 1,000 jin of cured meat were put into storage, but 150 jin were reported as lost, and in reality, less than 30 jin were moldy."

Jiang Wan's gaze lingered on the words "mouse damage" for a moment before she folded the note and tucked it into her sleeve.

"Madam?" Qiu Tang asked softly when she noticed that her expression was off.

"It's alright." Jiang Wan withdrew her hand. "Let's go back first."

As Jiang Wan passed through the alleyway in the east courtyard, she spotted Lu Hui in the distance.

The child huddled in the corner of the veranda, a dark green cotton robe covering his thin body, his whole body crouched into a small ball.

He was holding a palm-sized piece of wood in his hand, slowly trimming the edges with a carving knife, with a few scraps scattered around his feet.

He would shave once, then stop, breathe warm air on his hand, and continue shaving until his fingertips turned red from the cold.

Jiang Wan paused, then turned away.

"Hui-ge'er?"

Lu Hui looked up, a hint of panic showing on his face, which was pale from the cold, and he almost dropped the carving knife in his hand.

He quickly hid the wooden block behind his back, but then felt that this action was not quite appropriate. After hesitating for a moment, he still raised it, his eyes slightly evasive.

"Mother."

"Why are you sitting here?"

Jiang Wan squatted down in front of him and reached out to test the thickness of his sleeves. The cotton robe was so thin that it let in the wind, and Jiang Wan frowned inwardly.

Lu Hui lowered his head: "I'm making a wooden thermos for my classmate. I haven't finished planing the wood yet, and I'm afraid the wood shavings will fly onto the table."

"My aunt said that one should be well-behaved when studying and not make a mess of sawdust everywhere." He said, handing the block of wood to Jiang Wan. "I thought it wouldn't take long to carve this, so I ran out to carve it."

Jiang Wan glanced down at it.

The shape of the teapot has been roughly shaped. Although it's rough, you can tell that a lot of effort was put into it.

The spout and lid were both carved with several cuts, and two shallow intertwined vine patterns were engraved on the side, which must have taken a lot of effort.

A hint of doubt crossed her mind.

She had met several students at the academy and had a general idea of ​​what they were like.

Although it was advertised as a place where even students from poor families could enroll, there were actually only two or three students who were truly from poor families.

The rest were mostly children sent by families hoping to make a living by using the name of the Earl's Mansion, as well as students "bought" by local gentry with money.

Truly respectable families would hire tutors to teach in their own courtyards, and would not send their children to other people's schools without reason.

However, this thermos was not very well made; in fact, it was rather rough.

Those with better financial means might look down on it, but those who are poor can't even afford charcoal, so how could they bear to waste charcoal to fill thermos flasks?

The thought lingered in Jiang Wan's mind. She looked down at Lu Hui's fingertips, which were red from the cold, but ultimately didn't ask.

"Brother Hui, let's take the thermos inside and use it. It's too cold outside." She stood up and patted the dust off her knees.

"If you don't have enough charcoal, just ask Granny Wang for more. Don't be shy. In a few days, I'll have someone clean up the east side room in my courtyard and turn it into a small workshop for you. You can carve whatever you want, and don't worry about making a mess."

Lu Hui's eyes lit up, and he was about to say something when Jiang Wan turned to Qiu Tang and said, "Send one set of those thick winter clothes in the storeroom to Hui-ge and Shan-jie each."

"Thank you, Mother." Lu Hui held the wooden block, carefully tucked the carving knife into his sleeve, and the restraint on his face dissipated considerably.

Jiang Wan smiled and casually asked, "Who is this thermos you're giving it to?"

Lu Hui hesitated for a moment, his ears turning red, and his eyes drifted to the side.

Seeing his expression, Jiang Wan didn't press him further: "If you don't want to talk about it, then don't."

Lu Hui felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He quickly stuffed the wooden block into his pocket, stood up, and bowed to Jiang Wan: "Mother, I'll go back now."

After saying that, he took off running. After a couple of steps, the wind blew into his throat, and he sneezed violently. He raised his hand to cover his mouth and ran away without looking back.

Qiu Tang watched for a while and couldn't help but chuckle: "Young Master left in such a hurry, as if he was afraid that Madam would ask him another question."

Jiang Wan withdrew her gaze and adjusted her cloak: "It's normal for a child to have his own thoughts."

She turned and walked back along the covered walkway. As she passed through the moon gate, a gust of wind rushed into her collar, making her involuntarily hunch her shoulders in the cold.

Back in my own yard, I pushed open the door and went inside. The charcoal brazier was burning brightly, and the heat hit me in the face. Only then did I feel truly warm.

Jiang Wan sat down at the table, held her hands over the charcoal fire to warm them, and her mind calmed down as her fingertips slowly warmed.

Wang Fu's reach was longer and more insatiable than she had imagined.

He didn't miss a single thing: rice, noodles, cured meat, winter clothes, charcoal...

It got dark earlier than usual in the evening.

Just as Jiang Wan had the lamps lit, Qing He returned from outside, bringing with her a gust of cold wind.

She didn't rush to speak, first closing the door behind her, then walking to Jiang Wan's side and lowering her voice:

"Madam, just after 5 PM, the servant boy next to Wang Fu sneaked into the storeroom through the back door, carrying an unlit lantern, as if he was going to rummage through something."

Jiang Wan paused slightly as she twisted the lamp wick.

She put the lampshade back on, the flame flickered twice, and then stabilized.

"understood."

She turned and glanced at the deep night outside the window.

The warehouse is probably not going to be peaceful tonight.