Chapter Text
The very first of their duties was food delivery. That is, food had been delivered to the household, and he and Luo Binghe were tasked with helping carry it to the kitchens.
Shen Yuan bent down to pick up the crate of apples and Luo Binghe immediately clicked his tongue and stopped him.
"Crouch first, back straight," he said, demonstrating. "Pick up the crate. Stand up— lift with your legs. Or you'll hurt your back." He smoothly lifted his own crate and rose to his full height, no indication of strain anywhere in his body language.
Truthfully, Shen Yuan had heard this advice before, but crucially, he never did enough manual labor for it to be relevant to his life. Even when he moved to his own apartment, his family hired movers for his things.
With careful movements, he followed Luo Binghe's example and lifted his own crate, puffing out a sigh as he stood back up again.
"Are you certain you're here to be a servant?" Luo Binghe asked softly, lips quirked in a small smile.
Shen Yuan blinked. "What?"
"From any measure, you look more like a young master yourself."
Shen Yuan sighed. How to say it, he really was a young master in his previous life.
Luo Binghe began leading the way down to the kitchens, two floors below. Shen Yuan could already feel the rough wood of the crate digging into his soft palms, but out of pride, he refused to complain.
How hard could a day in the life of a servant really be, after all?
Xiao Ziyue and Qin Shengjun had been introduced to the Remington family by head housemaid Mrs. Sheffield, struggling to curtsy deeply and keep their eyes lowered. While Qin Shengjun was led to begin cleaning by a fellow maid, in recognition of Xiao Ziyue's physical needs, she had been directed to begin preparing vegetables in a seat in the kitchen.
"You won't be standing long enough to serve the soup, will ya?" the cook, Mrs. Randolph asked. "I have just the thing."
She pulled a chair from the long table in the center of the kitchen and set a spot for Xiao Ziyue by the marble counter where a young man was chopping carrots finely. All around the room were dark wood cabinets with brass fixings. Clouded glass jars held dry herbs and grains, and the functioning sink held dirty dishes that a young girl was busily attacking with a scrubber. Xiao Ziyue graciously took the peeler she was handed and set to on the rinsed potatoes.
The three kitchen helpers, Mary, Molly, and Tim, barely looked up to greet her as they busily mixed dough, washed dishes, and prepared salads.
Mary and Molly alternately made eyes at Tim, giggling.
At one point, Molly began singing under her breath,
"Last night there were four Marys,
But now there's only three,
There was Mary Eaton and Mary Seton,
Mary Carmichael and me."
"Oh, hush yourself," Mary scolded, blushing.
Now the word's gone out in the hall,
That Mary Hamilton's great with child
To the highest Stuart of them all."
Mrs. Randolph cleared her throat. "There will be no talk of growing 'great with child' in this kitchen, Molly."
Mary smacked her friend in the side, stifling giggles.
"And such a song! Gallows, death, lechery… really, if the family knew you were singing it, that would be docked wages for a week!" she continued.
Xiao Ziyue listened with interest. Just then, a scullery maid came stumbling in, her freckled face as pale as milk.
"Has something frightened you?" Mrs. Randolph asked.
"No," the girl wiped at her sweaty face. "I'm just that dizzy. Isn't there ought that you can give me to strengthen the blood?"
Mrs. Randolph tsked. "You'll be wanting black treacle again? That's the third time this week."
The maid swayed slightly as she stood, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear her vision. "I've only been once," she protested. "And Nora three times."
Pursing her lips, Mrs. Randolph grumpily walked to a high cabinet in the corner of the room and retrieved a bottle of thick, dark liquid. She doled out a sticky spoonful and handed it to the maid, watching her screw her mouth up and knock it back.
Her face remained pale, but as she sat by Xiao Ziyue, her gaze became less vacant.
"Save us all from silly maids fainting and carrying on," Mrs. Randolph muttered, turning back to tend to the stove in the corner.
Anemia, Xiao Ziyue diagnosed, familiar with the condition in her grand-niece. And widespread, too, if multiple maids were struck with it a week. That… was interesting.