Lu Jin woke early again today.
She slept peacefully in his embrace, her breathing even and long, gently brushing against his wrist.
Lu Jin maintained the same position from last night, his arm encircling her waist, her entire body pressed against his chest, the scent of gardenia flowers lingering in her hair.
Having confined Lu Heng, she had come to the study to share the bed.
Did she like Lu Heng very much?
A moment later, Lu Jin withdrew his hand and slowly rose.
The candle on the desk was only half-burned; he relit it.
He first checked his own undergarments—they were not the least bit disheveled—then looked at Shen Fenghuo’s sleeping robe, whose collar had slipped loosely down to her shoulder.
Lu Heng…
Lu Jin’s gaze swept around before finally settling on her left ear.
There, a clear bite mark was visible, not like a hasty, shallow bite, but as if someone had held it between their lips and gently sucked and nibbled, leaving such a deep impression.
Lu Jin’s brow furrowed slightly as he reached for the ointment on the desk, dipping a bit onto his fingertip.
He leaned down, pressing his fingertip against the bite mark. First, he dabbed it lightly, waiting for the ointment to melt, then massaged it in.
Under the flickering candlelight, his slender fingers slowly and deliberately rubbed the earlobe, then further… almost reddening the spot.
As the ointment gradually spread, his fingertip slid slowly down from the tip of her ear, landing on her neck, where the red marks had long since faded.
It seemed to have a mind of its own, lingering and circling over that area of her neck.
The unusual sensation finally made Shen Fenghuo let out a soft whimper, murmuring as if in a dream, “Lord… it’s cold…”
Lu Jin’s fingers paused against her neck. He looked down at her, seeing her brow furrowed and her body instinctively snuggling toward where he had just been lying.
After a moment of silence.
He placed the ointment back on the desk, turned, and lay back down on the bed.
As if assuming the same position as last night, Lu Jin’s arm slipped around her waist, pulling her entire body into his embrace, pressing her firmly against his chest.
The familiar warmth seeped through the fabric of their clothes. Shen Fenghuo, as if finding a refuge, nestled closer into his embrace, her brow relaxing, and her breathing returning to its steady rhythm.
Yet Lu Jin’s gaze remained fixed on her left ear, where the bite mark grew clearer under his earlier rubbing.
Soon, his eyes drifted to her perfectly intact right ear.
There, no bite mark.
As if guided by some unseen force, he leaned down, his lips gently covering her right ear.
First, he lightly licked it with the tip of his tongue, then applied a bit more pressure, biting the soft earlobe.
“Mmm.”
Disturbed by the sudden sensation, Shen Fenghuo mumbled drowsily, “Lord… don’t bite… last night, last night you already bit for a long time…”
Undoubtedly adding fuel to the fire.
Last night?
Lu Heng had done such improper things to her again? How long had he bitten her?
What else had he done?
Instead of releasing her, Lu Jin increased the pressure slightly, his tongue wrapping around her earlobe as he gently sucked and nibbled, as if punishing her yet deliberately controlling the intensity to avoid truly waking her in pain.
“Lord.”
She still hadn’t opened her eyes. “Isn’t it… time for court? Don’t bite…”
Lu Jin, still holding her earlobe in his mouth, let out a muffled “Mm.”
A moment later, he finally released her lips, gently stroking the right ear he had bitten until it flushed red.
“Not going today. The Qingming Canal case still has no leads. I can request a temporary exemption from court attendance and report afterward.”
With that, Lu Jin tightened his arm again, holding her even closer.
His gaze lingered on the marks on both her ears, a strange sense of satisfaction welling up within him.
He blew out the candle on the table.
Ming Yi prepared to climb through the window as usual, intending to use the key he kept to unlock the chains for Young Minister Lu.
But as he pushed open half the window, he froze.
The bedding on the couch was neatly tucked in. Young Minister Lu lay on his side, his arm encircling the young mistress, holding her close as he rested with his eyes closed.
Ming Yi shook the key in his hand, momentarily at a loss.
Should he unlock the chains as per the rules, or leave them be for now?
Just as he hesitated, a hand suddenly tugged at the hem of his robe from below with considerable force.
Xiangling looked up at him. "Brother Ming Yi, why are you climbing through the window again?"
With a firm pull from Xiangling, Ming Yi, who was already unsteady on his feet, was yanked right off the windowsill.
He chuckled helplessly and muttered, "Xiangling, why is your strength getting so much stronger?"
Xiangling closed the window, almost scolding him. "Don't make noise, Lord and the young mistress are still sleeping inside… Also, don’t climb through the window from now on. Use the main door and let me know first. After all, the young mistress is now in Lord’s courtyard."
The fire in the corridor of the adjoining room had long since gone out, leaving only a pile of dark-red embers, their residual warmth still faintly rising.
Xiangling crouched by the fire, holding a thin wooden stick and poking at the taro buried beneath the embers.
The taro had been thoroughly cooked by the embers, its delicate sweetness wafting through the air.
Carefully, she used the stick to pick up one of the taro. The charred outer skin was so hot that she quickly let go and caught it again, blowing on it vigorously. "Brother Ming Yi, have one. It’s very sweet, just a bit hot right after being dug out."
Ming Yi juggled it several times before getting used to the temperature.
He slowly peeled off the charred outer skin, revealing the creamy white, soft, and glutinous flesh inside.
The taro flesh steamed with heat, its sweet fragrance growing even stronger.
He brought it to his mouth, blowing on it several times before taking a bite, mumbling, "…Did they sleep like that last night, just holding each other?"
Xiangling picked up a taro for herself, peeling it as she nodded vigorously. "Yes, I kept watch for most of the night, and it was quiet inside the whole time. Lord didn’t call for water all night. I waited outside for nothing, staying up half the night for no reason."
She took a bite of the taro and frowned. "Why did Lord do that…? They were already holding each other, so why didn’t they consummate the marriage?"
Then, she turned to Ming Yi and said earnestly, "Brother Ming Yi, why don’t you try persuading Lord later? The young mistress is so wonderful. It’s not right for Lord to keep acting like this."
"Pfft—"
Ming Yi nearly spat out the mouthful of taro he had just swallowed, coughing until his face turned red.
He replied with a mix of amusement and exasperation, "How could I possibly persuade him about something like that? Xiangling, don’t talk nonsense."
Though the taro was soft and glutinous, he still valued his life.
Shen Fenghuo was awakened by faint voices outside the window. The moment her consciousness returned, the first thing she felt was the arm wrapped around her waist.
She was still being held.
Breath brushed against the side of her neck, the scent of pomelo blossoms and gardenia flowers intertwined.
Fully awake now, she struggled to sit up. "Lord! Why are you still here? Aren’t you going to court?"
Lu Jin was roused by her movements, slowly opening his eyes and replying leisurely, "Not going today."
He released his arm and pushed himself up from the edge of the couch. "I’ll head straight to Dali Temple later. I need to go back to the Qingming Canal crime scene with the people from Yongzhou Prefecture."
Shen Fenghuo nodded, quickly scrambling off the couch and straightening her slightly disheveled sleeping robe. "Then, Lord, I’ll go to my duties."
"No need to rush."
Shen Fenghuo turned back and saw that he had already straightened his robes. "Let's go together."
The snow had stopped, but the sky remained dark, and there were few people in the streets.
Shen Fenghuo, draped in a cloak, walked swiftly ahead.
Lu Jin, following behind, watched her slightly hurried figure and called out, "Come here."
Shen Fenghuo glanced back at him before turning around and walking by his side.
Lu Jin glanced sideways at her restrained demeanor and said calmly, "After last night, you still treat me like a ferocious beast?"
The way she walked beside him, slightly hunched, truly resembled Xue Tuan.
Shen Fenghuo replied, "That's not it… I'm afraid others might see us and refuse to eat the food I make in the future."
It wasn't like that at all.
It was just that her ears were a bit sore.
Lu Jin let out an "Mm" and said nothing more, slowing his pace to walk side by side with her.
Before long, the vermilion gates of Dali Temple came into view. Shen Fenghuo waved to him and headed around to the back to enter the kitchen courtyard.
Lu Jin watched her hurriedly departing figure before stepping into Dali Temple.
They were a properly married couple, recognized by heaven and earth and the laws of etiquette, so why did he feel a sense of secrecy?
When Shen Fenghuo entered the kitchen courtyard, she heard crackling sounds from the kitchen and Chen Yang's howls of pain.
Chen Yang was frowning at the oil pot, where the dough strips had turned charred black, and the oil bubbles were churning violently. Many splatters had landed on the back of his hand, leaving red marks.
"Chen Chu, what are you doing?"
Chen Yang turned and saw it was her, replying with annoyance and defiance, "What else? Trying to make that thing you call youtiao. But this stuff is tricky—once it goes into the pot, it's not the same. Either it turns rock-hard or ends up like this, charred black on the outside and raw in the middle."
Cooking, boiling, or steaming were the easiest methods.
Why was using an oil pot so difficult?
Chen Yang, unwilling to give up, was about to toss another dough strip into the pot when Shen Fenghuo reached out to stop him.
"Chen Chu, the fire is too strong."
Shen Fenghuo saw the flames leaping high in the stove and explained earnestly, "Youtiao should be crispy on the outside and soft inside. The oil temperature shouldn't be this hot—it should just bubble slightly. If the fire is too strong, the outside chars quickly, and the dough inside doesn't have time to expand, so it stays raw."
Chen Yang, his hand stinging from the oil splatters and frustrated by the pot of charred youtiao, snapped, "Alright, alright, you do it. You fry them. I want to see what tricks you have."
Shen Fenghuo saw his flushed face, clearly agitated.
Her gaze fell on the dough on the table, and she smiled, praising, "Oh my, Chen Chu, you've kneaded this dough wonderfully!"
With that, she reached out and gently pressed the dough. "It feels soft and fluffy, even better than the batch I made last time."
Wu Yu also leaned in for a look and nodded in agreement. "Oh my, it really is good! This dough is kneaded just right!"
Chen Yang, who had been holding back his frustration, felt somewhat pleased hearing their praise.
He raised an eyebrow proudly and said, "Of course! Let me tell you, kneading dough requires finesse. This dough, it needs…"
As Chen Yang boasted about his kneading skills, Shen Fenghuo washed her hands and rolled up her sleeves.
She pinched off some dough, pressed it into evenly sized strips, stacked two together, quickly pressed a line down the middle with a chopstick, and pinched the ends tightly—her movements fluid and effortless.
She selected a few pieces of firewood from beneath the stove, and the previously bubbling oil gradually became fine and dense. Using chopsticks, she dipped a bit of dough to test the oil temperature. Once the temperature was just right, she immediately picked up several raw dough strips and gently slid them into the wok.
With a sizzle, the dough rapidly expanded upon meeting the heat, floating up in the oil and slowly puffing into golden, fluffy shapes.
Holding long chopsticks, she occasionally flipped the youtiao, her movements deft and steady, ensuring each side was evenly heated.
Oil splatters no longer flew, only fine bubbles forming around the youtiao. Soon, the aroma of fried dough filled the kitchen.
Before long, the youtiao turned golden all over, looking crispy and delicious. Shen Fenghuo fished them out and set them aside.
Chen Yang watched intently nearby. As soon as she finished frying a few, he couldn’t resist reaching out to grab one.
He sniffed it, then took a big bite. The youtiao’s exterior was crispy, while the inside remained soft and porous.
The fragrance of oil mixed with a subtle savory saltiness grew more aromatic with each chew, completely free of the burnt or undercooked taste he had experienced before.
He smacked his lips, his face showing a hint of amazement, but he quickly straightened his expression and snorted heavily, "It’s just alright, nothing more than getting the heat just right."
Wu Yu, not to be outdone, had already set up the soy milk ground by the mule and was pouring it into a pot, slowly bringing it to a boil.
Shen Fenghuo kept working, sliding one raw dough strip after another into the oil. Watching Chen Yang eat with relish, she asked, "Chen Chu, you’re so skilled at fermenting dough. May I ask how many years you’ve been a cook?"
Chen Yang finished his youtiao and wiped his hands. "I’ve been at Dali Temple for three years. Who doesn’t know my skills?"
Wu Yu, whose soy milk was now ready, spoke without thinking, "Sister, you might not know this, but before coming to Dali Temple, our Chen Chu wasn’t a cook. In his early years, he drove carriages for the Vice Minister of Revenue, living a comfortable life—nothing to do with the kitchen trade at all."
Chen Yang glared fiercely at Wu Yu. "What are you blabbering about?"
Once they finished, Shen Fenghuo and Wu Yu carried a basket of golden, crispy youtiao and two large buckets of soy milk to the outer area, where the clerks of Dali Temple had already formed a long queue.
"Young Minister Lu, why are you so early today!"
Recorder Pang practically jumped in to greet him.
"Good morning, Old Pang."
Lu Jin glanced at his agile figure. "Your legs…"
"Ouch, they hurt a bit."
Recorder Pang immediately clutched his leg and called out to Shen Fenghuo, "Quick, bring me a bowl of soy milk to replenish me, with two extra spoonfuls of sugar."
Before Lu Jin was a bowl of salty doujiang, specially prepared by Shen Fenghuo. The broth was milky white, containing pieces of youtiao, chopped scallions, salt, and minced pickled vegetables.
He scooped a spoonful of the soy milk into his mouth—it was savory, rich, and thick. Taking a bite of youtiao soaked in the soy milk, he found it soft on the outside with a lingering crispness inside, the flavors of saltiness and freshness intertwining.
"Lady Shen, you gave Young Minister Lu such a big bowl—I want one too!"
A clerk, holding two youtiao in one hand and a bowl of soy milk in the other, imitated Lu Jin by dipping the youtiao into the salty doujiang.
He couldn’t help but praise, "Truly a unique flavor."
"I don’t agree with salty doujiang."
Chief Clerk Shi took a sip and swallowed hard, immediately switching to a bowl of sweet soy milk. "The youtiao is delicious on its own, but dipping it in salty doujiang is simply uncivilized. Anyone who wants sweet, come sit with me."
"How dare you disagree with Young Minister Lu’s way of eating? I’m in favor of salty!"
Everyone ate with great enthusiasm, some devouring their food, others savoring it slowly.
It truly split into the sweet faction and the salty faction.
Lu Jin set down his bowl, having already finished everything Shen Fenghuo had brought over.
"A'He, I'm going to Qingming Canal to investigate the case."
"Huh?"
Shen Fenghuo was clearing the bowls in front of him when she heard this, her eyes filled with astonishment.
Why was he calling her by her childhood name too?
As he stood up and passed by her, he said softly, "I've been busy lately, but once the case is over, I'll take a rest day to accompany you back to your natal home."
The dining hall was bustling with noise and excitement. Wu Yu was tidying up the bowls and chopsticks when she noticed Shen Fenghuo looking dazed.
"Girl, why is your face so red? Is our dining hall too hot?"
Author's Note:
A'He: In my dream, two people bit me.
Lu Jin: Heh, let me try too.