When it came to receiving guests, prestigious families had always mastered the art of leaving no room for fault.
Especially families like the Dings, who prided themselves on their scholarly and upright roots—even if they didn't welcome your visit, they would still politely invite you in to sit for a while.
After experiencing enough disdain from wealthy households while staying with Scholar Fan, Lester Liew found himself completely overwhelmed by the Ding family's courteousness.
Thinking of how Clara and Emily had warned him about the difficult old matriarch, he couldn't help but feel they'd been too cynical.
Just look at how kind the old lady was! Even to rural folk like them, she sent a steward to welcome them politely into a side hall, saying the old matron was currently resting and would see them once she awoke.
The room had been warmed with fresh charcoal, and a light scent of sandalwood lingered from the incense burner, subtle and pleasant.
They were served tea and refreshments and told to help themselves.
A maid and a matron stood quietly in the corner, awaiting any instructions, occasionally smiling at them or glancing their way to see if they needed anything.
Lester politely offered a shallow cupped-fist salute to the two before carefully taking a seat on a round stool covered with embroidered cloth.
What he didn't see, however, was the flash of surprise that crossed the maid and matron's faces, quickly masked by discreet giggles behind their sleeves.
A scholar saluting servants? How quaint.
He probably wasn't a real scholar—just some country bumpkin putting on airs. And look! Mud stains at the hem of his padded robe—what a sight!
Still, amusing as it was, the man was quite the looker. The maid and matron found themselves stealing glances more than once.
When caught, they would gracefully bow and ask if he needed anything—dutiful yet tactful, never letting it become awkward.
But eventually, Lester began to sense something odd about their behavior.
Several times, he glanced at Clara, only to see her sipping her tea calmly, utterly unfazed, as if she didn't care what anyone thought.
Her composed demeanor only made him feel more petty and self-conscious.
After stewing for a bit, he decided to let it go. Whatever—eat, drink, enjoy.
One pot of tea later, there was still no sign of the old matriarch. Instead, Lester was squirming with a full bladder.
"May I ask where the toilet is?" he asked the two attendants awkwardly.
The maid and matron exchanged glances before the matron stepped forward and gestured politely. "This way, young master."
Lester informed Clara and followed the matron out of the hall.
Only then did he truly get a glimpse of what a wealthy estate looked like.
A three-section courtyard; the so-called "little garden" was larger than his entire home. The ground was paved with blue flagstones and decorated with patterned cobblestones.
All the buildings were made of timber, painted in rich, dark lacquer. The windows were latticed and covered with fine paper, letting in soft light and brightening the rooms.
Unlike their home, which couldn't even afford paper for the windows. There, they had to double-board the windows to keep out wind and rain—pitch-dark on overcast or snowy days.
But what struck him most: everything smelled pleasant. There were no hints of chicken droppings or manure—only the refined aroma of incense.
The matron stopped in front of a spacious room behind a decorative archway.
Lester hesitated. "Whose room is this?"
It was so large and airy—at least four or five times the size of his.
The matron gave him a strange look, then awkwardly explained, "This is the servants' toilet, young master. Please, go ahead. I'll wait outside."
Lester felt his face erupt into flames. Without another word, he hurried inside the grand latrine, larger than his own bedroom.
Only when the distinct scent of chamber pots hit him did he finally relax.
On the way back, he kept his mouth shut, quietly taking in more of the Ding estate's luxury. The deeper they walked, the more amazed he felt.
Back in the side hall, Clara shot him a glance. Lester gave a pained expression. After the maid and matron returned to their corner, he leaned toward her and whispered about how luxurious the toilets in this estate were.
He had hoped to see a shared look of surprise—someone else as stunned as he was.
Instead, Clara only gave a flat, indifferent "Oh."
That's it? Just "oh"? Lester stared at her, aghast. You're a village woman—shouldn't this shock you?
Seeing his disgruntled face, Clara couldn't help but chuckle softly. "I've had enough of this tea. You?"
Lester blinked. "What do you mean?"
Then, with growing suspicion, he muttered, "That old lady sure sleeps a lot... It's been over half an hour."
He trailed off, and with his keen ability to read people, it finally dawned on him: the matriarch of the Ding family wasn't being particularly kind or hospitable after all.
He'd been dazzled by the wealth—utterly blinded.
Shaking himself awake, Lester turned to Clara and extended a hand. "Give me the recipe."
Clara raised an eyebrow. "You sure you can handle it?"
"You hate dealing with this sort of underhandedness. Let me do it," Lester said with a sheepish smile. He knew his place—Clara hadn't brought him along for nothing. She needed him for this exact task.
For once, Clara gave him a small, satisfied smile. She reached into her robes and handed him the soap recipe she had copied out.
Lester also asked for twenty copper coins before rising to leave.
The maid, seeing this, hurried forward. "Do you need anything, young master? We can run errands for you."
Lester politely declined. "I have something good to deliver to the old matriarch myself. It's more sincere that way."
The maid grew anxious. The matron quickly stepped in to explain—anything to keep him from barging in uninvited.
Realizing they wouldn't budge, Lester changed tactics. With a stubborn look that screamed "I really will rush in unless you help me," he discreetly slipped ten coins into the matron's palm along with the soap recipe.
She couldn't read, but she recognized its importance. Afraid he'd cause a scene, she forced a grimace and took the paper, then left the hall to deliver it on his behalf.
The coins, however, remained firmly in her pouch.
The maid stared at Lester with wide, round eyes. When he caught her gaze and turned toward her, the sunlight hit his face just right—so dazzlingly handsome she lost herself for a moment before quickly lowering her eyes.
Lester gently took her hand and, one by one, placed five copper coins into her palm. He folded her hand shut and smiled. "Thank you for your trouble, miss."
Only then did he turn and walk back to Clara, standing behind her with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting silently.
Clara stared at him. So he'd just handed out five coppers like that?
But for some reason, the once-smirking maid now stepped forward and respectfully poured them each another cup of tea.
She even offered an update: "The old matriarch usually wakes around this time. You'll see her very soon."
(End of Chapter)
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