BDSMST -Chapter 47 The Shock at the Dining Table

When Jiang Suisui heard that the old marquis and his wife had arrived, she did not show the slightest panic. She simply instructed Chunxing to pass word to the kitchen to add two more dishes for lunch and to bring out the small jar of newly made osmanthus honey she had been saving.

When Gu Xuan led his grandparents into the dining hall, a clean square table was already set with four dishes and a soup.

There were no dragon-and-phoenix carvings like at the marquis’ banquets, nor any rare delicacies from mountain and sea. Instead, there was a plate of stir-fried greens, bright and glossy; golden pumpkin pancakes; richly braised pork in dark sauce; shredded cold radish salad; and a pot of milky white fish head tofu soup.

The dishes were simple, but the ingredients were fresh and the colors inviting. The greens looked so vibrant they seemed to drip with moisture. The pumpkin pancakes were crisp outside and soft within. The braised pork alternated lean and fat, stewed until translucent. The fish soup released an indescribable, mouthwatering aroma.

“Grandfather, Grandmother, please sit,” Gu Xuan said attentively, pulling out chairs for them and personally serving their rice.

The old marquis fell silent again at the sight. In the capital, this boy had to be coaxed repeatedly just to come eat. When had he ever been so thoughtful?

“Where is Jiang?” the old marquis asked in a deep voice after scanning the room and not seeing her.

Gu Xuan had just been about to grab the biggest piece of braised pork. He paused mid-motion and replied casually, “Oh, she said this is a family meal, so she won’t join us. She’s eating in the kitchen.”

The old marquis’ brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He had come specifically to “inspect.” If Jiang Suisui, the one in charge here, avoided him, what did that mean? Was she feeling guilty? Or deliberately putting on airs?

The old madam, however, thought differently. Perhaps Jiang was simply being proper and avoiding impropriety.

“Go call her,” the old marquis instructed Uncle Fu. “There is no reason for family to eat separately.”

Soon Jiang Suisui was invited over. She had changed into clean clothes—a plain blue cotton dress. Her hair was pinned up with a wooden hairpin, her face unadorned, her expression calm as she entered.

“Greetings, Father. Mother,” she said, offering a proper junior’s salute.

“Sit,” the old madam said gently, pointing to the seat beside Gu Xuan.

Jiang Suisui complied.

The meal began in a somewhat peculiar atmosphere.

The old marquis first picked up some of the stir-fried greens nearest him. The moment they entered his mouth, they were crisp and sweet. A unique freshness filled his palate. He had eaten his entire life, yet never tasted such pure sweetness.

He tried a piece of braised pork next. It was rich but not greasy, melting instantly in the mouth. The sauce was perfectly balanced—deeply savory with a faint herbal sweetness that cut through the fattiness.

“This meat… is quite good,” he said. A man strict in both military command and personal demeanor, he rarely offered praise. For him to say “quite good” was already high praise.

Gu Xuan immediately puffed out his chest proudly. “Of course! That’s a descendant of ‘Hum-Hum’! We raised it for four full months before butchering it! It ate only vegetables and grain we grew ourselves—how could it not taste good?”

“Hum-Hum?” the old madam asked in confusion.

“The first pig I raised!” Gu Xuan explained. “Grandfather, try the pumpkin pancake— I planted the pumpkin myself! Sweet, right? And this fish soup— the fish came from our own pond. The tofu was made by Mr. Shen’s younger sister Yue’er. She learned from Sister Chunxing, grinding soybeans we grew ourselves!”

Like a child eager to show off his report card, he carefully explained the “origin” of every dish on the table.

The old marquis and marquise listened while eating, their emotions growing increasingly complicated.

They were not merely eating a meal.

They were eating pumpkins their grandson had planted, pork he had raised, the fruit of labor from everyone on this estate.

The old madam looked at Gu Xuan’s darkened but sturdy face, glowing with vitality, and the light shining in his excited eyes. The last remnants of her worry—that he had somehow “degraded” himself—vanished completely.

Her grandson had not fallen.

He had been reborn on this land.

She picked up a piece of fish, carefully removing the bones before placing it into his bowl. “Eat more. You’ve gotten so thin.”

Gu Xuan stuffed with rice mumbled back, “Grandmother, I’m not thin—I’m strong! Wei Ziqian and the others can’t even beat me at arm wrestling!”

By the end of the meal, nearly every dish had been cleared.

The old marquis set down his chopsticks and lifted his teacup without drinking. He looked across at Jiang Suisui, who had spoken very little throughout the meal, quietly placing food into Gu Xuan’s bowl.

This woman had been too calm from beginning to end. No boasting. No flattery. No unease at their arrival. She sat there quietly, as if she were not the mistress of the estate at all.

Yet from personnel management to land planning, from field arrangements to the dishes on this table—what here did not bear her mark?

“Were all these things… taught by you?” the old marquis finally asked, his voice low and unreadable.

Jiang Suisui lifted her head and met his gaze calmly.

“I didn’t teach him anything,” she said. “I only told him that if he wants to eat, he must work. If he wants to eat well, he must work well. The rest, he learned himself.”

She paused, then added softly, “Or perhaps the land taught him.”

The old marquis stared at her for a long moment. In his well-traveled eyes, emotions churned.

In the end, he said nothing. He merely lifted his teacup and drained it in one swallow.

After lunch, Gu Xuan excitedly insisted on taking his grandparents to experience the estate’s newest—and most interesting—activity.

“Digging sweet potatoes! I guarantee you’ve never tried it! It’s so much fun!”

Without waiting for agreement, he grabbed his grandmother’s hand and ran toward the newly reclaimed slope on the eastern side of the estate. The old marquis followed behind with his cane—his steps noticeably lighter than usual.