38
“Has Her Highness the Princess risen yet?”
“She has not.”
“Then will this morning meal still be warm?”
“Leave a pot of congee simmering. Given the time, we should start preparing lunch early.”
…
As the sun rose, servants in the kitchen of Prince Dingbei’s residence kept asking, “Has the Princess Consort awakened?” From chen hour until si hour, the answer remained no, leaving the staff murmuring among themselves.
One meddlesome servant folded his hands before him, lifted his chin slightly, and said with feigned profundity, “I reckon there’s no need to prepare lunch at all; just wait and make dinner instead.”
“Why? Has the Princess Consort left the residence?”
Some gossips were still trying to play coy, but just then a maidservant who knew the inside story carried a basket of fresh vegetable tips into the kitchen and couldn’t wait to spill the beans: “Haven’t you heard? Last night, Qian’an Hall called for water four or five times! Tsk tsk, they kept at it until nearly dawn; how could the Princess Consort possibly get up!”
“Ah?”
“There was such a thing?”
Everyone unconsciously gathered together, pricking up their ears.
The kitchen was filled with coarse women who had borne children; they were fond of gossip, shameless in their vulgarity, and when discussing the ins and outs of bedroom affairs, they spoke without blushing or hesitation, even displaying considerable enthusiasm.
“Fugui’s wife, isn’t your daughter serving at Qi’an Hall? Is it really that tumultuous there?”
“Indeed. Don’t be misled by our prince’s perpetually cold demeanor; he spares no effort behind closed doors. The princess has only been married a few days, yet every night brings such commotion that the entire courtyard can hear it. My daughter was on night duty in the tea room the other day and said she couldn’t sleep a wink, hearing nothing but the princess’s delicate sobs and cries.”
“I heard about it too, especially last night; they called for water to be brought in no fewer than four or five times! Afterwards, it was said that the Princess Consort wept bitterly and threw a fit; otherwise, there would have been even more commotion.”
“The Princess Consort looks like a celestial maiden, so delicate and charming that no man could help but fall for her; I saw their eyes go straight staring at her. Her skin is as soft as fine fur and as tender as silken tofu, so fair and smooth that one pinch would surely draw moisture from it. The other day, when she strolled through the garden under the sun, her complexion truly dazzled the eyes with its brilliance.”
“I also find the Princess Consort utterly captivating; indeed, even our Prince, who is always spoken of outside as so valiant and formidable, could not tear himself away from the beauty’s couch.”
…
The maidservants in the kitchen spoke somewhat indecently, causing the young girls eavesdropping nearby to blush and quickly retreat; yet what those servants said was, in truth, hardly an exaggeration.
The water at Qi’an Hall never stopped flowing last night. Even innocent maids like Suxin and Lü’e, who had never witnessed such matters, could vaguely sense that His Highness… seemed to have been excessively relentless.
Their young lady was fine at first, but midway through she began crying out loudly. Later, her sobs turned into weak whimpers; perhaps her voice had grown hoarse from exhaustion, as it dropped significantly in volume.
During the final trip when Suxin hurriedly brought water inside, she caught a fleeting glimpse: her mistress’s hairpin askew, wrapped tightly in blankets and nestled in His Highness’s arms. Like a cornered rabbit, her eyes were red-rimmed, her voice low and hoarse. She mumbled something indistinctly, then suddenly sank her teeth fiercely into his neck.
Suxin’s legs buckled in fright; she nearly dropped to her knees to beg mercy for her mistress.
Yet the Highness did not even furrow his brow, merely responding in a low voice, “Very well, let us retire.”
Though his tone seemed devoid of emotion, given the intimate atmosphere within the room, it carried a hint of coaxing.
After bathing later, the Highness requested medicine once more.
The red candles in the room burned quietly for nearly an hour before finally being extinguished.
By the time all surroundings fell into complete silence, a faint, hazy grayish-white light had begun to emerge on the horizon.
Jiang Xu, however, was brimming with energy; without any delay early in the morning, he rose to practice swordplay, returned indoors to eat breakfast, and then went out as usual. Only Ming Tan remained deeply asleep, from the hour of Chen until midway through Si, showing not the slightest sign of waking.
It was not until noon that Ming Tan finally stirred awake. Even after waking, she spent quite some time with blank eyes and an empty mind, half-leaning against the couch, utterly languid and unwilling to rise.
Just then, Lü’e entered carrying a box filled with small trinkets. She curtsied joyfully and said, “Miss, you’re awake! Miss Min sent someone over with these gifts. She mentioned they are newly acquired curious and clever items from the Western Regions. Would you like to see them now?”
Just mentioning Bai Minmin was enough to make Ming Tan fly into a rage.
The chief culprit!
“Not looking!”?
Lü’e was stunned, at a loss for what to do, thinking she had done something wrong.
Still fuming, Ming Tan added, “Find that ugly floral handkerchief Bai Minmin gave me last time, and bring me a pair of scissors as well.”
Lü E was completely bewildered. She murmured an assent, carefully set down the peculiar box, and hurriedly rummaged for the ugly handkerchief Bai Minmin had previously embroidered. She then took both the handkerchief and a pair of scissors to the bedside.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Ming Tan snatched up the scissors and viciously slashed the ugly handkerchief twice. Then, fuming with rage, she ordered, “Stuff this back into that box and send it to the Duke of Changguo’s residence. Tell them I am severing all ties of friendship with Bai Minmin effective immediately!”
Lü E: “…?”
“Achoo!”
At the Duke of Chang’s residence, Bai Minmin, forced to practice needlework and currently embroidering a pair of mandarin ducks, suddenly let out a tremendous sneeze. Rubbing her nose, she wondered: Could it be that among the recent matchmaking meetings, some young nobleman has taken a fancy to her?
–
Whether any young nobleman has indeed taken a fancy to Bai Minmin remains uncertain; however, in recent days, Lu Ting, the Vice Commander of the Palace Guards, widely known as Commander Lu, has clearly set his sights on Miss Zhou Jingwan of the Zhou family.
Zhou Jingwan, now at a marriageable age, is gentle, beautiful, and exceptionally talented. Originally, numerous promising young men sought her hand in marriage from the Zhou family. Yet ever since Commander Lu also went to propose marriage there, all those previously eager suitors mysteriously fell silent.
First, a Hanlin Academy editor was caught visiting a pleasure house and was impeached by a censor for disgracing the esteemed reputation of the Hanlin scholars, resulting in his demotion.
Later, the son of a vice minister galloped his horse recklessly through the streets, injuring a street vendor; he was taken to court, forced to pay compensation in silver, and suffered a leg injury that confined him to bed for half a year…
These incidents were neither trivial nor monumental; their only connection was that each had once come to the Zhou household to propose marriage.
It seemed that everyone had gradually grasped the underlying implications, and slowly, fewer and fewer families came to propose marriage to the Zhou household.
Zhou Jingwan’s marriage prospects had been carefully considered ever since Ming Tan was bestowed with an imperial betrothal; now that Ming Tan was already married, no matter how cherished her daughter might be, Lady Zhou could no longer postpone arranging a match for her.
Yet under these current circumstances, Lady Zhou, who had previously been so spoiled for choice that she felt no urgency, now grew increasingly anxious. As for Zhou Jingwan herself, she was terrified, worrying day after day that no one would come to seek her hand in marriage, leaving her with no alternative but to wed that Commander Lu.
In the fourth lunar month, when spring was at its most vibrant, Ming Tan invited Zhou Jingwan to her residence to admire the blossoms.
She renovated the prince’s residence and rebuilt the flower garden; as soon as the rare and exotic blooms arrived, she invited the renowned scholar Lady Zhou to compose inscriptions for the garden.
As for Bai Minmin, her lingering resentment had not yet subsided, and she had not sent any invitations to the Changguo Duke’s mansion. Instead, Bai Minmin simply tagged along with the Zhou family’s carriage, arriving uninvited.
Zhou Jingwan, already frail in health, had grown even thinner lately due to her deep melancholy.
Only when pressed by Ming Tan and Bai Minmin did she, with great reluctance, reveal that her own marriage arrangements seemed to have been secretly sabotaged.
“Do you really look down on Marshal Lu so much?” Bai Minmin asked, puzzled. “I think Marshal Lu is quite admirable.”
Zhou Jingwan replied, “If he’s so admirable, why don’t you marry him yourself?”
Bai Minmin was momentarily speechless. “Isn’t it you he proposed to? What does that have to do with me?”
She then turned to Ming Tan and asked, “Isn’t your Prince Dingbei acquainted with Marshal Lu? Perhaps you could ask His Highness what Marshal Lu truly intends.”
Ming Tan paused slightly.
Ever since that last time when things got too heated in bed and she lost her temper, she and her husband hadn’t exchanged many proper words.
For one thing, her husband was overwhelmed with military duties and rarely spent more than a few days at home. Even when he was home, he was as taciturn as a stone; unless she took the initiative to start a conversation, he would sit stiffly before his desk all night reading military treatises.
For another, she had entered her monthly cycle, making intimacy impossible. A man who only showed emotion between the sheets would appear rather cold and distant after several days without it.
Thirdly, she had been so worn down by the ordeal that she felt somewhat apprehensive and was reluctant to get close to him.
“What are you thinking about?” Bai Minmin waved her hand in front of her.
“Nothing.” Ming Tan took a sip of tea as if nothing were amiss. “I’ll ask my husband when he returns.”
Bai Minmin didn’t think much of it and continued to comfort Zhou Jingwan: “Marshal Lu’s actions suggest a determined resolve; this is clearly not a whim. In my opinion, there’s no need for you to be so resistant toward him. Wait until A-Tan asks the Prince, and only then, after you’ve learned more, should you make your final decision.”
Zhou Jingwan felt a stir of interest.
Yet, having accepted this task, Ming Tan felt a slight vexation. Her monthly cycle had just ended; why did going to inquire today feel like walking a lamb into the tiger’s mouth, deliberately seeking trouble?
Hesitating until Jiang Xu returned to the residence, and hearing that he had gone straight to his study, Ming Tan gritted her teeth and resolved to risk it all for Zhou Jingwan.
She specially changed into a more modest outfit, with the collar covering up to her neck, then carried a bowl of bird’s nest congee that had been simmering over the fire since noon, along with a plate of jade-belt cakes, to the study.
“Your Highness, the Princess has arrived,” a guard announced at the door.
Jiang Xu lifted his gaze. “Enter.”
Jiang Xu’s study was spacious and unadorned. Rows of antique shelves lined the walls, mostly holding military treatises and short weapons. There was also a sand table, a chessboard, and a narrow couch for resting.
Ming Tan glanced around only briefly before lowering her eyes. She approached the desk and spoke softly with obedient grace, “I heard my husband has been buried in official duties and hasn’t even had dinner. So I personally prepared bird’s nest congee and jade belt cakes. Please taste them, my lord; while affairs of state are important, your health is even more so.”
Jiang Xu: “…”
After a single night of unrestrained passion some days ago, his little princess consort had been treating him with nothing but disdain, refusing to even acknowledge his presence for several days. One moment she claimed she felt unwell, the next that her monthly flow had arrived; if he so much as accidentally brushed against her while settling down for the night, she would kick him twice. In the end, he simply chose to sleep in the study for a few nights.
“What is this today?” He paused, glancing at the bowl of bird’s nest congee and the stack of jade-belt cakes.
“Did you make these?”
Ming Tan nodded and proceeded to explain the method in detail: “This bird’s nest congee was simmered to an exquisite fineness. It has been stewing over a gentle fire since noon. While simmering, someone must remain watchful, stirring it with a spoon in the same direction for half a quarter-hour every half hour. Only thus can the congee achieve a texture that melts upon the tongue.”
“As for the jade-belt cakes, they are made from glutinous rice ground into flour, sifted three times. After fine sifting, water is added, then blended with lard and sugar. The mixture is layered one upon another before being steamed. Both the number of layers and the precision of the steaming heat are crucial; otherwise, they would not possess such crystal clarity nor such a dense, delicate mouthfeel…”
Jiang Xu took a sip; indeed, it was vastly different from the plain congee and simple pastries he usually settled for.
Instinctively, his gaze flickered to Ming Tan’s hands. They were neat and clean, adorned with crimson nail polish, looking every bit as though they had never touched so much as a drop of spring water.
He asked for confirmation, “Did you make this yourself?”
“Yes,” Ming Tan replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Jiang Xu paused for a moment, then abruptly set down his porcelain spoon. “Leave. This prince has urgent matters to attend to.”
Ming Tan, bewildered, asked, “Will my husband not eat more? I personally prepared…”
“This prince does not tolerate lies. Leave first.”
“…?”
“How exactly did A-Tan lie?”
Ming Tan was stunned.
“You claimed you made this yourself.” Jiang Xu raised his eyes to look at her, his gaze steady and unwavering.
Ming Tan met his gaze without the slightest evasion: “I did indeed make it myself. If my husband doubts me, he is welcome to summon the kitchen staff for questioning. I personally instructed the kitchen, specifying in detail the exact ingredients and火候 (cooking heat) required. I even went to the kitchen twice myself. Both witness testimony and physical evidence are present!”
Jiang Xu fell silent for a moment, realizing their interpretations of “personally” had diverged greatly: “When you say ‘personally made,’ do you mean ‘personally tasted’?”
“What else could it mean? Did you expect me to roll up my sleeves and knead the dough myself?!”
She spoke with utter confidence.
Jiang Xu: “…”
Ming Tan felt utterly wronged. This was her very own secret recipe, devised through her own efforts. Though it looked no different from ordinary fare, its taste was remarkably unique. That odious man had drunk her congee, sampled her pastries, and still dared to accuse her of lying! He didn’t deserve it!
Thinking of this, she gathered the bowls and spoons, picked up the food box, and was about to leave.
“Wait.” Jiang Xu grabbed her wrist.
Ming Tan jerked her hand free, strode to the door, and pushed it open without hesitation.
Jiang Xu rose as well, stepped behind her, and seized her wrist once more. This time he applied slightly more force, pulling Ming Tan back two steps until she inadvertently stumbled into his embrace.
The main door to the inner study was just pushed open by Ming Tan, allowing the temperate coolness of the spring night breeze to drift inside.
Shu Jingran stood outside, while the guard who had been about to announce his arrival stood with his mouth agape, at a loss for words.
My apologies for the disturbance.