After returning to the palace, Consort Yu was brimming with confidence. At noon, she prepared several dishes and sent them to the Emperor.
The taste was average, but the advantage was that they were hot dishes!
One bite was a hot dish, another bite was also a hot dish!
Huo Lin frequently reached out with his chopsticks, eating elegantly and slowly.
This was more like it. He was the Emperor, the Son of Heaven—only prison rations were served cold!
Consort Yu smiled softly, "Your Majesty, if you like them, this humble consort can personally prepare a meal for you tonight."
Huo Lin lowered his gaze. Could it be that because he had never summoned Consort Yu, she was deliberately holding back and not showing her true skills?
Thinking of the tangyuan Jiang Huan had made that day, Huo Lin was curious to taste just how skilled Consort Yu—who had taught Jiang Huan—really was.
Huo Lin set down his chopsticks and wiped his hands with the towel handed to him by a eunuch.
"Tonight, you shall come to the Hall of Mental Cultivation."
Upon hearing this, Consort Yu was overjoyed inwardly, but she maintained her composure on the surface and replied softly, "Yes, Your Majesty."
…
Soon, night fell.
Consort Yu was dressed in a magnificent palace gown with intricate patterns embroidered on the skirt. However, the fabric of the dress was exceptionally thin, faintly revealing the skin beneath.
She stood in front of the bronze mirror, carefully applying her makeup, determined to present her most beautiful self to Huo Lin.
"Your Highness, you are truly beautiful. The Emperor will surely be pleased," Cui Ying praised incessantly from the side.
Consort Yu smiled faintly, a hint of pride gleaming in her eyes.
"Cui Ying, bring over that plate of Sweet and Sour Ribs," Consort Yu commanded, her tone carrying an unwavering resolve.
Cui Ying immediately complied and brought over a plate of glistening red Sweet and Sour Ribs.
This dish was specially prepared by Consort Yu for Huo Lin. Not only had she selected the finest ribs, but she had also added a specially crafted sauce, hoping to win Huo Lin's favor.
Once everything was ready, a eunuch from the Internal Affairs Bureau arrived to announce that Consort Yu was to attend the Emperor for the night.
Consort Yu took the cloak from Cui Ying, covering her subtly revealed skin beneath it. Then, carrying the food box, she followed the eunuch toward the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
Along the way, Consort Yu's mood grew increasingly buoyant. A confident smile graced her face, as if she had already foreseen the success of the evening.
Inside the Hall of Mental Cultivation, the fragrance of ambergris wafted gently. As Consort Yu stepped over the threshold with the food box, she deliberately removed her cloak and tugged her sheer outer garment down half an inch.
Today, she had specifically perfumed herself with the Western Regions' tribute—the Harmony Incense. The cloying scent, mixed with the aroma of the Sweet and Sour Ribs' sauce, made even Wang Degui frown involuntarily.
"Your Majesty~" Consort Yu drew out the last syllable, swaying her hips as she sashayed up to Huo Lin.
"This humble consort has personally prepared Sweet and Sour Ribs. Would you care to try some?"
As she pushed the porcelain plate toward the desk, Consort Yu's graceful posture faltered slightly.
The sauce splashed onto a memorial, staining several characters with its dark hue.
Huo Lin frowned almost imperceptibly. Under the flickering candlelight, his pitch-black eyes revealed no emotion.
Staring at the greasy, glistening ribs, his temples throbbed.
Setting the memorial aside, he leaned back slightly, resting against the rosewood chair.
Had Consort Yu fallen into a sewage ditch and then bathed ten times in perfume?
The stench was assaulting his senses!
But…
Huo Lin's gaze flickered coldly toward the bowl of Sweet and Sour Ribs.
What exactly would a skill superior to Jiang Huan's taste like?
For the sake of good food, Huo Lin suppressed his disgust again and again. He picked up his chopsticks, selected a rib, and took a bite.
The syrup-coated, fishy meat burst in his mouth. Huo Lin's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty as he struggled to swallow.
My taste buds were bombarded, and my eyes went somewhat dazed.
Is this something a human could make?
It’s the first time I’ve encountered something even worse than the Imperial Kitchen’s cold leftovers. Is this woman an assassin?
Heavens! What have I done wrong? Why must I suffer this torment?
Consort Yu, however, remained completely oblivious, her fingers already reaching for Huo Lin’s jade belt.
"Your Majesty has been toiling over state affairs. Why not let your humble consort massage your shoulders…" She deliberately leaned forward, her shoulder garment slipping to reveal half of her peach-red undergarment peeking from her loose collar.
Snap!
The ivory chopsticks struck the table—not too hard, but sharp and crisp.
Huo Lin rose slowly, the moonlight and candlelight intertwining to accentuate his already imposing figure, making him appear even more authoritative and domineering.
Caught off guard, Consort Yu met his icy gaze and shuddered in fear.
That shudder accidentally knocked over the plate of Sweet and Sour Ribs on the table, splattering sauce everywhere and leaving blotchy stains on her dress.
"Wang Degui."
Huo Lin didn’t even glance at her, flicking his sleeve as he turned his back. His tone was even but carried a biting chill.
"Throw this filth out, plate and all."
Consort Yu was horrified, unable to comprehend why the Emperor had turned on her so abruptly.
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty, please forgive me! This consort doesn’t know how she offended—"
She scrambled to Huo Lin’s side, reaching out to clutch his robes in a desperate attempt to make him stay.
Huo Lin swept his robe aside and took a step back indifferently, veins already bulging faintly at his temples.
"Not leaving? Do you wish to die here?"
His tone brooked no argument. Consort Yu, having missed her grasp and hearing this ultimatum, froze in place, her face pale and trembling like a leaf.
Huo Lin showed not an ounce of pity. "Wang Degui, are you deaf?"
Wang Degui trembled as he hurriedly acknowledged the order and called for attendants.
Consort Yu was so terrified she could barely walk, and in the end, two sturdy matrons had to drag her out of the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
Her hair was disheveled, her moon-gauze dress stained with sauce, and one of her embroidered shoes had gone missing at some point.
A eunuch on night duty passed by with a lantern, and even its dim light exposed her wretched state without mercy.
The commotion was too great, especially in the palace where every move was watched.
By the next day, various rumors about Consort Yu’s attempt to serve the Emperor had spread far and wide.
"Have you heard? Consort Yu’s ribs made the Emperor vomit in disgust!"
"Not just that—they say she stripped to seduce him and was thrown out harshly!"
"His Majesty hasn’t favored the rear palace for so long, and she thought she’d be the exception. How pitiful!"
…
In the West Side Hall, Jiang Huan roasted sweet potatoes over the charcoal fire while Xiao Zhao chattered animatedly beside her, her joy plain to see.
"Hahaha, my lady, I also heard that when Consort Yu was dragged back to her palace, her sheer outer robe was torn in several places. She looked utterly disgraced."
Jiang Huan lit a virtual candle for Consort Yu in her heart.
Really, of all people to provoke, why pick that moody Emperor? Isn’t that just asking for trouble?
Jiang Huan didn’t understand, so she focused on roasting her sweet potatoes.
"You can say these things in front of me, but make sure no outsiders hear you."
She didn’t want anyone twisting her words—she still wanted to live a few more years…
Xiao Zhao giggled in response. "Don’t worry, my lady, I know what I’m doing."
Meanwhile, Huo Lin was in no such cheerful mood as the master and servant.
His stomach ached with hunger, yet the table was piled with cold, bland dishes.
Withered yellow vegetable leaves floated in the murky soup, the tofu had taken on a strange grayish-white hue, and there was only a scant amount of meat.
He was the emperor! Why was he reduced to eating such fare?
Had the silver allocated daily to the Imperial Kitchen staff been squandered on dogs?
Was someone embezzling from the national treasury, stealing so much that they couldn't even prepare a warm meal for him!
Huo Lin rubbed his temples.
Enduring the displeasure, he picked up some greens and ate them. The bland taste made the silver chopsticks in his hand almost tremble.
Gradually, his mind drifted to the memory of Jiang Huan holding a bowl of glutinous rice balls that night.
It had been several days—surely Jiang Huan had recovered by now?
Perhaps it was time to summon Jiang Huan once more.