Chapter Twelve: Countless Beauties, True Goodness is Greatest

“Miss, this scholar is truly rude. You kindly invited him to travel with us, yet he insists his sister must ride as well. How can you agree to such an unreasonable request?”

“Biyu, when we're away from home, it's best not to be stingy if we can lend a helping hand. The carriage is spacious enough—what harm in allowing one more young girl aboard? Besides, the gentleman acts out of brotherly concern. How many brothers these days are so devoted and upright? If my own brothers had treated me half as well as he does his sister, you and I wouldn’t be here now.” At this, the speaker’s tone was tinged with sadness. After a pause, she continued, “Moreover, he may look like a frail scholar, yet he dares bring his sister through these perilous northwestern frontier lands. He speaks with grace and treats others with courtesy—surely he’s not ordinary. We may well rely on him as we continue our journey.”

“We have so many strong guards from the manor—how could we ever need help from a penniless scholar? Miss, you’re just too soft-hearted.” Biyu remained unconvinced.

“Miss, as you instructed, I have brought the honored guest. Please give your orders,” said an elderly servant.

“Thank you, Uncle Zhang. You may rest now. Biyu, invite the little sister aboard.” The clear, ringing voice was like pearls dropped onto a jade plate, making one long to see its owner. The little maid was nervous; she had lived with Madam Zhao since childhood and rarely met strangers. If Fang Zheng were not nearby, she would never have dared follow the old man. Biyu, obeying her mistress, parted the curtain and stepped down from the carriage. “Little sister, come with me—my lady invites you.” Though she was annoyed by Fang Zheng’s request, she was ultimately kind-hearted. Seeing the timid, gentle face of the little maid, her heart melted and her tone softened.

Yaya glanced at Fang Zheng, who nodded slightly. She whispered to Biyu, “Thank you, Sister. You’re so pretty.” The sweet compliment delighted Biyu, who promptly took Yaya’s hand, helping her into the carriage. She shot Fang Zheng a playful glare, then closed the curtain and vanished inside with the girl.

Fang Zheng was amused by the lively girl; the reason behind her behavior was clear to him. As long as Yaya was not troubled, a glare meant little. He would find an opportunity to repay this kindness along the road.

Once everything was settled, the caravan resumed its journey. Fang Zheng rode in the middle, only twenty feet from the carriage where Yaya sat—close enough to reach her quickly if trouble arose, yet not so near as to offend, since the carriage housed several young ladies.

The road was decent, and the caravan moved at a fair pace. After two hours, they had traveled seventy or eighty miles, and dusk was approaching. There was no town or village nearby—the closest was Shangjia Town, still over thirty miles away. So the caravan prepared to camp for the night. Under the old servant’s direction, they chose a sheltered hollow, tethered the horses, parked the carriages, and began to set up camp. Yaya’s carriage was placed in the center, showing her mistress’s distinguished status. Fang Zheng dismounted, found a spot, and poured himself a jug of rice wine. Just then, Yaya lifted the curtain and ran toward him, her face radiant with joy.

“Yaya, was the carriage comfortable?” Fang Zheng asked, smiling.

“Yes! Sister Wan’s carriage is big and cozy, with soft beds and lots of tasty treats. Sister is not only beautiful but so kind to me—just like you, brother.”

“You little rascal! How easily you’re won over by a bit of food. You just met this sister and already compare her to your brother. Oh, how heartbreaking!” Fang Zheng pressed his hand to his forehead, feigning sorrow to tease her.

“Only a little less than brother! It’s my fault—don’t be upset! Brother is the best, no one compares!” The girl grew anxious, shaking Fang Zheng’s arm in earnest explanation. Her worried face warmed Fang Zheng’s heart, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Realizing she’d been tricked, Yaya gently punched him. “Hmph! Bad brother, bullying me—I won’t talk to you anymore!”

“All right, all right. My Yaya is the sweetest. I won’t dare do it again—don’t be angry!” The two played their childish but tender game, laughter bubbling between them. Fang Zheng didn’t notice the delicate hand lifting the curtain from the second carriage, watching him and Yaya’s playful moment.

After a while, Fang Zheng began preparing dinner. Having received the lady’s favor, he could not expect her to provide food as well; his pride wouldn’t allow it. He cooked a pot of rice porridge and started making flatbreads. Whenever time allowed, Fang Zheng would not let Yaya eat dry, hard rations. He often devised new dishes to ensure her nutrition. As a traveler from another world, he knew well that cuisine here was vastly inferior to Earth’s. Though he was not a chef back home, he had tasted food from all corners. Years of practice had improved his cooking greatly, and Yaya now praised his meals, never barring him from the kitchen as she once did. Fang Zheng often teased her about this, making her blush, which delighted him.

Scallions were indispensable in northern cuisine, and Fang Zheng, being from the northwest, had a particular fondness for them. He’d bought plenty of dried scallions before setting out, replenishing them along the way. Tonight he planned to make scallion pancakes, a famous northwest specialty—crisp and aromatic, perfect with rice porridge. They were simple to prepare: no need for fermented dough, just freshly kneaded and rested for a while. As Fang Zheng was busy, he saw Biyu approaching.

“Yaya, what are you doing?” She was helping Fang Zheng peel scallions while he kneaded the dough.

“Helping brother cook. Why did you come over, Biyu?” Yaya replied happily, clearly getting along well with her new sister.

“What, Yaya doesn’t welcome me anymore? Has she forgotten her sister for her brother?” Teased, Yaya quickly explained.

“Of course not! Sister is so good to me, how could I not welcome you?”

“At least you have some conscience, remembering your sister’s kindness. I was only joking.” Biyu laughed. Fang Zheng noticed her but didn’t speak, mindful of propriety.

“Are you a fake scholar? How do you know how to cook? Scholars are supposed to avoid such things—there’s even a saying that gentlemen stay far from the kitchen.” Before Fang Zheng could respond, Yaya began to boast.

“Brother’s cooking is amazing! Biyu, you must try it later.”

Fang Zheng finished kneading the dough and washed his hands. Hearing Biyu’s words, he cupped his hands in thanks. “I am grateful to you and your lady for your kindness today. I shall repay it in due course. As for cooking, what in this world cannot be done? I believe, aside from evil deeds, one should follow their heart. The rules of society are but shackles—take them too seriously, and you bind yourself. Besides, cooking for oneself is no crime.” He smiled and cupped his hands again.

“You’re an odd scholar, not so pedantic as others. You have some spirit—but your words are bold. Aren’t you afraid you’ll bite your own tongue?” Fang Zheng looked up at Biyu. Her emerald shoes embroidered with plum blossoms matched her green dress, cinched at the waist with a sash. Over it she wore a long, gray-white robe. Her fair neck held a delicate face, raised slightly, with lovely almond eyes and arched brows. A small, fine nose gave her the look of a gentle beauty, though her upturned lips hinted at a bit of willfulness. Seeing Fang Zheng’s gaze, Biyu grew annoyed, gave him a fierce glare, and pulled Yaya aside to whisper, ignoring him further.

Fang Zheng found it amusing. The girls chatted in whispers while he busied himself, taking Yaya’s peeled scallions and chopping them on a small board.

A rich aroma soon filled the air as Fang Zheng began frying the pancakes. As they cooked, the scent grew stronger, drawing attention from the whole caravan. Scallion pancakes were unknown here; everyone was intrigued by the unique smell. Some guards came closer, watching curiously. Biyu, who had been chatting, was the first to rush to the pan, staring hungrily at the soon-to-be-finished pancakes. Fang Zheng even heard her swallow, which made him smile.

“Master Fang, what kind of pancake is this?” Biyu asked. Clearly, she couldn’t resist, and even her address for him had changed, though she was awkward and shy saying “Master Fang.”

“Scallion pancake. Biyu, just wait a moment—it will be ready soon.”

“Oh, all right.” Biyu replied softly, embarrassed. She’d mocked him before, but now, craving his food, she felt mortified. Yet Fang Zheng’s answer was free of mockery, which subtly improved her impression of him.

“All done—ready to eat! Biyu, try it and see if my cooking suits you. Careful, it’s hot.” By now, she had forgotten everything else; her eyes were fixed on the plate. Fang Zheng cut the pancake into four, its golden crust dotted with green scallions, the aroma irresistible. Her hungry stomach growled. Fang Zheng smiled, pretending not to notice, holding out the plate. Biyu took it, thanked him, then hurried to her lady’s carriage, plate in hand. Yaya giggled nearby. “Brother, did you make enough dough? We might not have enough to eat today.” She chuckled at her own words. “If there’s not enough, you’ll go hungry,” Fang Zheng teased. She was unfazed, laughing all the same.

Biyu reached the carriage, lifted the curtain, and entered. Voices came from within—Biyu, quick-tongued, was surely describing the pancake. Soon she emerged, carrying an empty plate.

“My lady bids me thank Master Fang. She said the pancake truly is delicious—the most fragrant she’s ever tasted.” Biyu spoke happily, clearly pleased her mistress had accepted the pancake.

“Indeed, it is I who should thank your lady. Such a humble pancake is nothing.” Fang Zheng replied politely. Just then, the lady in the carriage lifted the curtain halfway. “Master Fang, your skills are remarkable. I am unwell today, but if opportunity allows, I will surely ask you to teach me a few culinary tricks.” A fair, delicate hand shone from within...