The dish she had planned for today did not include this one.
After quietly asking a maid, she learned that the kitchen matron had been flustered and burned the fresh perch. In haste, she had pulled a few preserved fish from the courtyard to make up the numbers. It was no great matter—His Highness the Sixth Prince enjoyed rustic flavors not found in the palace and ate with relish.
But Chu Linlang clearly remembered that Situ Sheng disliked this taste. The last time he had visited the Zhou household, he had fled at the mere smell of it.
Suddenly, she recalled that in childhood, that “Plague-born” boy had also loathed preserved fish. Back then, pitying the ragged child, she had once brought him food. As fate would have it, the dish was stewed preserved fish. He had not appreciated her kindness at all—first gagging at the stench, then overturning the bowl onto her brand-new skirt.
That time, Chu Linlang had cried bitterly in front of others—for the skirt had been specially made by a seamstress for her elder sister’s wedding, the only new garment she had ever owned, not a hand-me-down. But tears alone could not vent her anger. She remembered pinning the boy to the ground, straddling him, and beating him by the collar.
Those mischievous childhood memories suddenly leapt back into her mind one after another. Thinking of how she had once beaten Lord Situ, her forehead throbbed faintly. She hurried to rise, intending to move the foul-smelling fish away from him. Yet before her hand touched the plate, she saw Situ Sheng calmly lift his chopsticks, pick up a piece of preserved fish, and place it into his mouth. Not only one bite—he took two more, then raised his cup and drained it in satisfaction.
Chu Linlang froze, then quickly forced a smile, took the newly served dish from the maid, and urged the guests to continue eating. But her sharp eyes noticed the servant boy, Guān Qi, standing behind Situ Sheng, watching anxiously, as though his master had swallowed poison rather than fish.
The feast continued. After more drinking, Situ Sheng seemed overcome, excused himself, and left. Outside, near the latrine in the outer courtyard, he could no longer endure the nausea. He bent over the shrubbery and vomited violently.
Guān Qi patted his back, distressed: “Master, why force yourself to eat that dish?”
Situ Sheng rinsed his mouth with the clay teapot Guān Qi handed him, but gave no reply.
Guān Qi, however, understood: “Could it be she recognized you, and deliberately tested you with that fish?”
For honored guests, who would not serve fresh, costly fish? Yet the Zhou household had offered only the poor man’s preserved fish and placed it directly before him. It was hard not to suspect that Madam Chu had discovered something and was probing him with that foul-smelling dish.
Situ Sheng closed his eyes. The stench lingered in his mouth, seeping into his bones, stirring dark memories long buried. He pressed hard against them, suppressing the shadow that threatened to break free. After finishing the tea, he returned to the hall.
The banquet was still lively. Zhou Sui’an, loosened by drink, spoke freely of his countryside studies, amusing His Highness with witty anecdotes.
The Sixth Prince laughed heartily, finding Zhou Sui’an delightful when not speaking of official matters. Even Miss Xie, usually sour-faced toward Situ Sheng, joined in the merriment.
But once Situ Sheng reentered, the laughter dwindled. After all, he was the Prince’s tutor. Though he rarely scolded, his presence carried the weight of authority. Even His Highness measured his words before him.
Miss Xie, harboring resentment, glared at him, losing all mood for jest.
Situ Sheng seemed oblivious to the chill. He glanced at his place—only to find the plate of preserved fish gone. He asked casually: “That fish was quite good. Has it already been finished?”
Zhou Sui’an quickly explained: “Madam Chu tasted it and said the flavor was off, perhaps the fish had spoiled. Fearing it might upset our guests, she had it removed and replaced with candied baked pears.”
Everyone was engrossed in conversation, and none had noticed Madam Chu’s discreet action.
But after hearing Lord Zhou’s explanation, Situ Sheng cast a faint glance at Chu Linlang.
Chu Linlang kept her composure, though inwardly she regretted it—perhaps she had been too meddlesome, and should not have removed that plate of fish.
At that moment, Second Miss Xie struck out, sneering: “So Lord Situ loves that fish so much? Rotten fish and foul shrimp—only pedantic men delight in such decay!”
Princess Consort Xie had not intended to bring her sister today; it was Xie Youran who insisted. She had thought her sister had let go of her obsession, so she did not mind her meeting Lord Situ. Who would have expected her to speak so rudely at the table!
Yet Situ Sheng acted as though he had not heard. He drank steadily, aloof, the picture of a gentleman unwilling to quarrel with women, giving Miss Xie no face at all.
The Princess Consort, embarrassed, pinched her sister’s thigh under the table.
Chu Linlang, adept at smoothing over discord, saw the tension rising and quickly clapped her hands: “In my courtyard, I have a few flowers from Lianzhou blooming splendidly. They would make fine hair ornaments. Why don’t the Princess Consort and Miss Xie come admire them and wear a few?”
Thus, the Princess Consort dragged her sister off to the warm pavilion in the rear garden.
Chu Linlang pretended to fetch scissors, but in truth slipped away to the outer courtyard, leaving the Princess Consort free to scold her sister.
This residence was far larger than the one in Lianzhou. The outer courtyard had not yet been staffed, with servants busy in the kitchen, so it was unusually quiet.
Chu Linlang sat on a bench by the wall, idly plucking at the newly blossomed apricot flowers. Suddenly, a voice sounded above her, “Madam, why are you here alone?”
She turned to see Situ Sheng, who had somehow arrived alone in the empty courtyard.
With no attendants nearby, their being together was improper. Chu Linlang quickly rose, intending to find the Princess Consort. But Situ Sheng blocked the only exit, leaving her no way out.
Chu Linlang raised her brows at him. He gazed back, eyes deep and probing. To ease the awkwardness, she forced a smile: “My lord, have you finished eating? Why leave the table so soon?”
Situ Sheng replied coolly: “The dish I wished to eat was removed. Naturally, I am full.”
Chu Linlang thought for a moment, then said frankly: “My apologies. When you visited my home in Lianzhou, I noticed you disliked preserved fish. That is why I had it taken away. Many people avoid its taste. If you enjoy it, you may take some home.”
She reached for a fish hanging to dry in the courtyard and offered it to him. But the raw smell was stronger still. Situ Sheng’s hand hesitated.
Chu Linlang sighed, rehanging the fish, and teased: “I thought only my husband liked to show off. It seems you are worse. You’re grown now, not a child—no one will spank you for being picky. Why force yourself?”
Once the fish was removed, Situ Sheng visibly relaxed. Hearing her jest, he paused, then said: “Indeed, I once disliked it. But your household’s cook is skilled…”
The topic shifted naturally to the flavors of her hometown.
Chu Linlang responded absentmindedly, eager to leave.
But Lord Situ was in high spirits, speaking of Zhou Sui’an’s recent riverworks.
Chu Linlang smiled politely. Then Situ Sheng sighed slowly: “Jizhou is fine, only too few bridges. Do you remember the stone bridge over the river where you pushed me in?”
Chu Linlang answered without thinking: “Stone bridge? It was always a rope bridge…”
The words slipped out—and she froze, staring at him.
At some point, Situ Sheng had moved close, pressing her against the courtyard wall. His face wore a smile, though his eyes did not.
That rainy day, he had noticed her odd reaction—her silence when provoked, her strange gaze. He had not thought much of it until he changed his soaked shirt and recalled her childhood insult. He remembered: she had pushed him into the water, then mocked the birthmark on his back as a “turtle’s mark.” Now he realized she might have connected the dots. And today, the ill-timed dish of preserved fish confirmed it.
She was too clever. She had recognized him—and tested him.
His eyes darkened, dangerous thoughts swirling. If he wished to silence her, he had countless ways.
Just as he opened his mouth, Chu Linlang panicked. Without thinking, she struck.
Smack!
Her blow sent his face askew.
Grabbing his collar, she hissed: “You deceived the emperor, falsified your record—that has nothing to do with me! If it is ever exposed, only your head will fall. Do not drag me into it! I never knew you before!”
So that was it—ashamed of his mad mother, he had altered his origins. And now he dared test her, seeking to bind her with old ties? Did he mean to implicate her in his crime?
Childhood friendship be damned—she had a family to protect.
Situ Sheng had not expected that once his secret was uncovered, he would be the one threatened into silence.
Madam Chu was ever unpredictable. Yet her words rang true. Back then, no one in Jiangkou knew his family’s real past. To her, he was merely a man ashamed of his youth, who had forged a new identity. His cheek burned—she had not held back. Her fierceness was unchanged from childhood.
Just then, a voice called from beyond the wall: “Madam Chu, where are you? Did you fetch the scissors?”
Chu Linlang quickly answered sweetly: “Coming at once!”
She straightened his collar, lowered her voice: “I truly don’t know you.” Then, smiling again, she asked: “My lord, would you step aside? The Princess Consort awaits me.”
Situ Sheng seemed to realize he was blocking her path. He drew a deep breath, expression blank, and moved aside.
Chu Linlang walked a few steps, then paused. Remembering the purpose of her banquet, she carefully added: “My lord… last time my mood was poor. If my words offended you, please don’t take them to heart. And just now, I was too hasty…”
This time, Lord Situ was more tactful. He did not press further, only said calmly: “Whenever I see Madam, it feels like… a breath of spring. Tell me, when have you ever offended me?”