Springtime Farming: A Happy Wife At Home

Chapter 1222: Coincidence

Editor: Henyee Translations

The southern mountains embraced a gentle, aqueous demeanor, adorned by blush-hued walls and the presence of daiwa. Each family’s abode faced the meandering river, and willow trees, blossoms, and verdant foliage dotted the surroundings. Although the time for birds to engage in their elegant dances and Centaurea to burst into bloom had not yet arrived, the essence of spring pervaded the air.

Weeping willows cascaded like cascades of silk, draping the branches in vibrant green hues. Early-blooming flowers scattered across the landscape, their colors accentuated by the pink walls and tiled roofs. A bluestone bridge provided a vivid contrast amid this enchanting scene. The atmosphere held a slight moisture, yet it was crisp and pure. Strolling through the streets and alleys, one might capture a picturesque glimpse of the Southern style with a simple handheld device.

However, without their modern gadgets, the trio struggled to fully appreciate the spectacle. Their words of admiration flowed ceaselessly throughout their journey.

Liqiu and Lixia, in particular, were overtaken by amazement, as if they had never beheld such exquisite southern scenery before.

In contrast, Qiao Xuan, who had visited Jiangnan prior to her transmigration, found herself marveling at the disparity between the modernized, overdeveloped region she knew and the original water village she now explored.

Internally, Qiao Xuan commended their unabashed enthusiasm. As the host, she possessed a wealth of knowledge and had no room to exhibit such emotional fervor.

In her role as the master, she needed to maintain an air of composure, projecting a dignified image that commanded respect.

Their footsteps led them unconsciously to the lakeside, where the scenery transcended even their previous experiences. An array of shops lined the shore, and the ancient pavilions exuded an exceptional level of sophistication, instantly discernible to those with discerning tastes.

With dinner time approaching, fatigue set in for the three travelers. Qiao Xuan carefully selected a refined, upscale establishment named the “Qing Lotus Garden” and ushered Liqiu and Lixia inside.

Silkworms and mulberry silk embroidery had thrived in the southern region, elevating women’s societal standing—a testament to the timeless adage that the economic foundation shaped the superstructure.

Whoever possessed wealth wielded authority.

As a result, when Qiao Xuan and her servant entered the restaurant, neither the manager, nor the waitstaff, nor the other patrons found it unusual. The waiters extended warm welcomes and guided them to their seats with gracious smiles.

Qiao Xuan had initially desired a private room, but the restaurant, owing to its renowned reputation and breathtaking scenery in Yangzhou, had limited private accommodations, which had to be reserved well in advance.

However, the second floor of the establishment resembled a partitioned booth, adorned with strategically placed potted plants that stood at approximately half the height of a person. These plants served to create a discreet barrier, and the design displayed meticulous attention to detail.

Qiao Xuan couldn’t help but internally commend this southern venue. It seemed that even the restaurants in this region were far from frugal.

With her maid in tow, Qiao Xuan requested a booth near the window, affording them a broad and beautiful view that evoked a sense of relaxation and contentment.

This restaurant specialized in fresh and exquisite Southern cuisine, with a particular focus on local dishes from Yangzhou. Upon hearing the waiter’s proud and enthusiastic recommendations, Qiao Xuan ordered three servings of duck, rouge geese, steamed knifefish, three portions of shrimp tofu, large-cooked dried shredded rice, along with a selection of special dishes. She also decided to try the waiter’s suggestion of the small three-fresh wonton.

As Qiao Xuan and her companions settled into their seats, they noticed several scattered groups of diners across the dining floor. Maintaining a lower volume, they engaged in light conversation.

However, their tranquility was disrupted when a loud banging noise emanated from the vicinity of the potted plants. A young man expressed his anger vociferously, exclaiming, “I simply cannot accept this! We are all gentlemen; how can we endure such favoritism?”

Startled, Qiao Xuan and her companions, along with other patrons at nearby tables, turned their attention towards the commotion. The two other individuals at the young man’s table quickly attempted to hush him, advising, “Brother Zhao, please lower your voice.”

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