THIRTY-SIX
When Yeong Fu's funeral was ended, Mai busied herself in the kitchen, doing the dishes to keep herself busy. After her father's death, many of his loyal servants had left, for they weren't as fond of Jing and there was plenty of work to do on the farms of the village. With all the men who had gone to war and not yet returned, every pair of hands were needed to till and seed the fields in the hope of a summer harvest.
Like most soldiers, she had learned the use of a cookfire and the kitchen here was no different, if a little more civilised. On the days when the cook didn't come, Mai had to use her cooking skills, to Jing's loud complaints. Mai closed her ears to them. She had eaten worse food prepared by the army cooks, and though it was nowhere near as palatable as palace far
