Taoniang’s face stiffened. Gritting her teeth, she pulled out an exquisite jar of ointment from under her pillow.
“Thank you, Sister Tao! You’re truly generous! Don’t worry—tonight, I’ll make sure to bring you something delicious from the main kitchen!”
The plump woman snatched the ointment from Taoniang’s hand, then waddled out happily, her wide hips swaying. Before leaving, she even thoughtfully closed the door behind her.
“Disgusting wretch!” Taoniang couldn’t help but spit out in disdain, her liver still burning with rage.
She silently swore to herself—if she ever rose to power, she would make every single person in the laundry room pay for this humiliation.
Taking a sip of cold water to calm her fury, she opened the food box.
Inside was a meager meal—a bowl of millet porridge mixed with sweet potato leaves and a few strands of pickled vegetables.
This was the lowest-grade ration for servants: coarse grain porridge with pickles, or rough steamed buns with pickles, served only twice a day.
The sight of this meal made Taoniang’s anger flare up again, mixed with a pang of bitterness.
When had she ever suffered like this since entering the Sheng household?
When she first arrived as Mingzhu’s wet nurse, her meals had been on par with those of first-rank maids—three meals a day, each with rice or fine wheat flour, plus a side dish.
Later, after winning the madam’s favor, she had been showered with delicacies—dragon-phoenix soup, roasted suckling pigeon, eight-treasure duck, ten-herb tonic chicken, crab dumplings… She had tasted every exquisite dish imaginable.
On top of that, the kitchen staff had curried favor with her by offering pastries—cream rolls, cheese, lotus root starch osmanthus cakes,rock sugar with white fungus…
As Mingzhu grew older, Taoniang’s meals had become so extravagant they could rival those of an empress.
She had eaten so much rich food in recent years that her tastes had even begun to shift toward lighter fare.
Yet now, after just a short time in the laundry room, what she craved most was a greasy, fatty stewed pork knuckle with ham.
She could devour an entire knuckle right now…
Pretending the thin porridge was a rich fish congee, she gulped it down.
But the moment the food hit her stomach, the door was violently kicked open.
BANG!
“Taoniang—” Xu Mama, the laundry supervisor, strode in with a gloating smirk. “Qingying sent word that you’ve rested long enough. Starting today, you’ll resume your punishment.”
Taoniang’s heart plummeted, her entire body turning ice-cold.
Peony Courtyard
Just after breakfast, two young “guests” arrived at Peony Courtyard: Sheng Mingli and Sheng Mingshu.
These two usually stayed hidden in their birth mothers’ quarters, only appearing during festivals.
Since today was no special occasion, the servants were startled to see them.
Only a few well-informed maids knew in advance—the madam had arranged for the two young masters to join Cousin Xianjie in Teacher Lin’s beginner classes.
Come spring, she even planned to send them to Yuelu Academy for formal studies.
Thus, the two had timed their visit to thank the madam right after her morning meal.
Sheng Mingli, the second son, was just a month older than Sheng Mingyi, making him eight this year.
He was strikingly handsome—rosy lips, pearly teeth, and large, clear eyes like a timid fawn’s.
But his nervous, shrinking demeanor gave him an almost feminine delicacy.
Sheng Mingshu, the fourth son, was seven, just three months older than Sheng Mingbo.
Pale-skinned and fine-featured, with sharp, intelligent eyes, he already carried an air of quiet refinement despite his youth.
To Sheng Minmin’s eyes, these two were far more attractive than the Sheng Mingjian brothers, who strongly resembled their rough-mannered father.
But General Sheng, a military man, despised their delicate looks, considering them unmanly.
He much preferred his three sturdy, martial-looking sons and openly scorned Sheng Mingli’s “girlish” appearance.
As for Huang Yaning, the legal wife? She had never cared for these two illegitimate sons. That she hadn’t actively mistreated them was already a stroke of luck.
“This son pays respects to Mother and wishes you good health.”
They bowed deeply, both dressed in new fur-lined robes that looked warm and thick.
“Rise, quickly—” Sheng Minmin softened her voice to ease their nerves.
Sheng Mingli hesitated, but Xiangxiang stepped forward to help him up.
A sharp-eyed glance revealed their worn-out cloth shoes, frayed from long use.
And upon closer inspection—the “new” robes were made from the fur she had sent them earlier.
Without her gifts, they wouldn’t even have proper winter clothes.
No hair ornaments, no accessories—just pitifully plain.
Sheng Minmin sighed inwardly.
Though still recovering, she had been mentally calculating how to cut household expenses—specifically, the outrageous spending on Sheng Mingzhu and the three legitimate sons.
Those four each received:
-
20 taels of monthly allowance (yet routinely withdrew 200–1,000 taels from the accounts).
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200 taels for meals (though Sheng Mingzhu’s lavish banquets far exceeded this, even after recent cutbacks).
Add in clothing, jewelry, and rare toys, and the costs were astronomical.
If she could rein in these four’s spending—and stop Sheng Yong from draining the shops’ funds—she estimated saving 20,000 taels monthly.
As for the rest of the household? Their expenses were modest:
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Concubines: 5 taels/month + 60 taels for meals.
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Illegitimate sons: 10 taels/month + 100 taels for meals.
Unfavored concubines and sons were already skimped on—their servants had to be bribed for the slightest service, leaving them perpetually broke.
No wonder Sheng Mingli and Sheng Mingshu looked so shabby.
“Is Mother feeling better now? This unfilial son apologizes for not visiting sooner—”
Sheng Minmin raised a hand. “I was the one who told you not to come. How could it be your fault? I’m much better now—don’t worry. Sit, don’t stand on ceremony.”
But Sheng Mingshu remained tense. Seeing the madam more than once a year was nerve-wracking.
His birth mother had drilled into him that being allowed to study was an immense favor—he had to express gratitude properly.
Yet under the madam’s gaze, his mind blanked.
Instead of sitting, he dropped to his knees again and kowtowed three times, forehead thudding against the floor.
“This unfilial son has burdened Mother, making you arrange our schooling while still unwell…
“We will remember Mother’s great kindness forever, study diligently, and repay your grace with filial devotion.”
Sheng Mingli hurriedly followed suit.
Before Sheng Minmin could signal Qingying and Xiangxiang, they were already pulling the boys up.
