Yamen (Prefecture Office).
A group of officials were either slumped on the ground or fast asleep over their desks, with bamboo scrolls scattered across the floor waiting to be collected.
Han You carried a bowl of chicken soup mini wontons into the room, kicking a snoring colleague on his way past. “Wake up, it’s already dawn!”
The kicked colleague followed the scent of chicken soup and groggily crawled up. “Smells good… Little Han, what delicious thing did you bring back again?” As he spoke, he climbed up and drifted bleary-eyed toward Han You.
Han You disgustedly protected the bowl in his hands. “Get away, this isn’t for you—it’s for the Lord.”
The colleague chuckled, but didn’t give up; he just squatted at the corner leading to the inner chambers to keep watch. Who didn’t know that the Lord had no interest in food? Every morning he only ate a small amount of plain rice porridge and light side dishes. It wasn’t that the kitchen didn’t try to change things up with delicious food, but whatever was left over was always rewarded to them by the Lord. Just wait, he was sure it would be brought out untouched soon.
Han You held the bowl and stepped into the inner chamber.
Behind the screen, the wooden windows were tightly shut, and the room was dim. A man wearing a scarlet official robe sat with one hand supporting his forehead, closing his eyes to rest. A white candle next to him had already burned down, the wax dripping down the candlestick and hardening on the table. On the desk lay a half-unrolled bamboo scroll, densely filled with small characters.
Before Han You could make a sound, Shen Zhengze had already woken up, his brows slightly furrowed, looking somewhat weary.
Han You didn’t dare to overstep; he put away his playful demeanor and said cautiously, “My Lord, it is dawn.”
Shen Zhengze glanced sideways toward the window.
Han You understood. Like a sycophant, he placed the bowl on the desk in front of the Lord and turned to open the window. The cold air of early morning, laden with dew, poured in, diluting the warmth left by the charcoal brazier and bringing a bit of clarity to his groggy mind.
Only then did Shen Zhengze’s gaze fall upon the blue-and-white porcelain bowl inverted on the desk. A hint of rich fragrance seemed to pass by his nose.
It was the scent of chicken soup.
“What is this?” His tone carried a hint of laziness. The kitchen never made overly greasy food in the morning.
Han You’s spirits lifted. He reached out and lifted the bowl cover that had been keeping the contents warm. Hot, white steam dissipated into the air, and in an instant, the fresh, fragrant scent of chicken soup filled the entire inner chamber.
“My Lord, this is chicken soup mini wontons.” He couldn’t wait to share his personal favorite with Shen Zhengze, emphasizing his tone. “You must taste it—it is especially, especially, especially, especially delicious!!”
With four “especiallys” in a row, his eyes were practically glowing; no one could bear to disappoint him.
Unfortunately, Shen Zhengze was no ordinary person. He was born with a condition that caused a loss of taste. No matter how fragrant the food smelled, it tasted like chewing wax once it reached his mouth. Eating, which was a pleasure for others, was no different from a routine task for him. Of course, this hidden condition was unknown to outsiders.
Shen Zhengze lifted his eyes and glanced at Han You. “Since you like it so much, you can have it.”
Han You froze, his head full of question marks. He didn’t understand how the Lord could say such a thing so nonchalantly. One had to know that he himself couldn’t resist the temptation of the wontons this morning and had eaten two full bowls, not even leaving the soup base. Smell this—doesn’t it smell delicious?
“This subordinate has already eaten, my Lord. This was brought especially for you.” Han You wouldn’t give up, his mind turning rapidly. “Do you remember the young lady who was held hostage by the outlaw at Sajin Bridge the other day? The one who wore a veil and had a small red mole between her brows? These mini wontons were made by her. She is grateful for your life-saving favor and begged me to bring a bowl for you to taste. I didn’t want to at first, but Boss Jiang said that you have a special significance to her, and this bowl of wontons isn’t just ordinary wontons—it’s full of her heartfelt intentions.”
He had already said as much; the Lord couldn’t possibly be cold to a young girl’s heart.
Shen Zhengze glanced at the bowl of “full heartfelt intentions,” and for some reason, he pressed his finger gently against his brow. “You may withdraw.”
He didn’t mention having Han You take the wontons away again.
Han You grinned, happy as could be as he left.
A soup spoon had been carefully placed inside the porcelain bowl. Shen Zhengze stirred it slowly; the minced coriander and egg strips swirled rapidly on the surface of the soup, which was quite pleasant to look at. Even if Shen Zhengze had no appetite, he still needed to eat daily.
His rough fingertips held the spoon, scooping up a wonton with its thin, translucent skin. Underneath the delicate dough, the meat filling was faintly visible. How many times had he fantasized about what these foods might taste like? Yet, no matter how much he imagined, it couldn’t fill the void of reality. It was like an ink painting without color—black and white would always be black and white; dead and still, never vibrant.
He was just about to put the mini wonton into his mouth when Bai Qiao rushed in from outside.
“Ting’an, someone reported from below that Fengqing County has suffered a snow disaster. Many people’s homes have been crushed by the heavy snow.”
Shen Zhengze stood up abruptly, grabbed the black fox-fur cloak draped over the screen, and strode out.
He left the solitary chicken soup mini wontons alone on the desk.
Fortunately, not many houses had been crushed. After spending four or five days inspecting Fengqing County, Shen Zhengze left Bai Qiao there to handle the follow-up affairs and led a team back, travel-worn and dusty.
As the horses sped into the city gate, they slowed to a walk. When they passed the wharf, they suddenly heard Han You’s excited, thrilled shout from behind.
“Chicken soup mini wontons!!”
Shen Zhengze tightened his reins and looked out in the direction he was pointing. Sure enough, he saw a wonton stall. There were quite a few people at the stall, and the small wooden tables were full, with two graceful figures weaving among them, busy at work.
He recognized the young lady from Sajin Bridge at a glance. Aside from anything else, her outstanding figure and temperament were extremely eye-catching.
Han You couldn’t wait to request, “My Lord, the men have been on the road for half a day without a meal, and we are almost at the Yamen. Why don’t we find a place to have lunch first?”