The sun finally dipped below the horizon, dusk rose, and a bright moon cast its light over the imperial capital. The sounds of moving and hauling finally came to a stop.
Yu Yu lay atop the storeroom beside the Zuixiang Pavilion’s kitchen, gazing at the moon, while Xie Xin wiped his gleaming sword beside him.
That sword was called Green Heron.
Yu Yu, in contrast, carried only a bow and a single arrow, which he now toyed with in his hands.
That arrow was peculiar, Xie Xin had never seen such a beautiful arrowhead. Normal arrowheads were made of iron, either silver or black, but the one in Yu Yu’s hand flowed with a bloodthirsty dark crimson.
“Don’t worry, my swordsmanship was taught by my uncle. We’ll first figure out who’s behind this. If we can’t win, I can still cover your escape.”
Xie Xin stood and twirled his sword in a flourish. Moonlight fell upon him, gilding him in a warm, gentle glow.
Yu Yu suddenly felt despicable, because of that faint sliver of resentment in his heart, he was about to play a trick on this sincere young man. But soon, that fleeting thought was overtaken by a fiercer sense of defiance. He just wanted to make Xie Xin suffer a little, not to harm him, how was that despicable?
This is only right, Yu Yu thought. Someone like him simply delighted in scheming against others, drawing pleasure from their suffering.
Yu Yu’s gaze drifted back to the bright moon above. Xie Xin waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Let’s go.” He gave Yu Yu a slight nod, tapped his toes lightly, and leaped down into the darkness.
Arrow bow in hand, Yu Yu followed closely, landing steadily beside him.
Xie Xin had asked around, the signature dish here wasn’t made fresh by the chef. Instead, it was prepared the night before by the owner and kept warm on the stove, with only fifteen servings a day.
Ruling out daytime, the only time he would appear was at night.
The doorway was blocked by piles of ingredients, making it hard to step through. Xie Xin squeezed in with great effort.
“Careful.” Xie Xin reached out and pulled Yu Yu aside, saving him from tripping over the basket of cabbages blocking the entrance.
“Thanks.” Yu Yu paused, withdrew his hand, and steadied himself against the nearest stove as he entered. He scanned the surroundings and found only a spot by the firewood pile where they could hide.
Yu Yu pulled aside the logs and gestured for Xie Xin to go in first.
“What about you?” Xie Xin asked in a whisper. Yu Yu pointed upward. Understanding his meaning, Xie Xin nodded, slipped in, and hid himself deep within the woodpile.
Yu Yu rearranged the firewood, confirming that no one could see inside, then looked up at the beam overhead.
It wasn’t high, but it would take some leverage to climb up. Yu Yu surveyed the area and finally fixed his gaze on an empty low table.
At last, Yu Yu stepped onto the table, leaped up, and lay flat on the beam.
After the rustling sounds fully ceased, the kitchen returned to the same stillness as when they’d first arrived.
Only faint breaths remained, those of Yu Yu and Xie Xin.
A long time passed with no sound at all, so long that Xie Xin nearly closed his eyes and dozed off, yet the kitchen remained utterly still.
Xie Xin began to wonder if they’d taken the wrong approach from the start, maybe the man wouldn’t come to the kitchen at all, but somewhere else.
Yu Yu lay on the beam, idly counting the hours.
It was almost the fifth watch.
Finally, there was movement at the kitchen door.
Footsteps sounded in the courtyard, roughly fifteen people by the sound of it.
Xie Xin immediately held his breath, using the moonlight to make out the scene in the courtyard.
Those fifteen people stood in perfect formation, their eyes murky, as if controlled by something. Without exception, they were all waiters from Zuixiang Pavilion.
Before them stood a young man pacing back and forth.
Calling him young was because of his tall, slender build and glossy black hair, clearly in the prime of his life.
“Bring it up,” the young man said. Then came the sound of wheels rolling again, and a cart of food boxes was set before him.
Xie Xin couldn’t see his face. The mastermind had his back turned, giving him no chance to identify him.
The food box opened, and Xie Xin saw it was the crab-stuffed oranges he’d seen just yesterday, only these were far inferior by comparison.
The orange peels meant to hold the crab meat and roe were no longer fresh, tinged with withered yellow. Such a dish could never be a restaurant’s signature. So what exactly made these crab-stuffed oranges so fragrant and delicious?
Xie Xin had a vague suspicion forming in his mind.
A plate of crab-stuffed oranges was lifted by a dazed waiter, whose dwindling fortune floated faintly in the air.
A flash of green light streaked by, and the waiter’s fortune was torn in two, one half merging into the stale crab-stuffed orange, the other returning to its owner.
The waiter’s face grew even paler, the color that should have been in his cheeks shifting onto the dish as if by teleportation.
And so, Zuixiang Pavilion’s signature dish was born.
By the same process, fifteen succulent, juicy crab-stuffed oranges were kept warm on the kitchen stove, waiting only for tomorrow’s service.
Yu Yu lay sprawled on the roof beam, idly watching the bustling kitchen below.
Si Tan was still as steady as ever, did he want to play hide-and-seek with this Ninth Prince a little longer?
Yu Yu didn’t have that kind of patience. He fished out a small pebble and tossed it down through the small window opening from the kitchen.
A barely audible little sound. Sure enough, Si Tan glanced slightly to the side and walked toward the kitchen.
The breathing in the firewood pile suddenly grew heavier, then was forcibly suppressed by its owner.
Xie Xin was afraid?
That made sense, fear was normal, but no normal person would look like Si Tan.
Calling him hideous would be a compliment. Si Tan’s face, scorched by fire many times over, had long since melted into a mess, his most basic expressions impossible to read.
Yu Yu remembered the first time he’d seen him, he’d been so scared he could barely hold his sword.
Si Tan entered the kitchen, paying no attention to Yu Yu who’d dropped the pebble, instead locking his gaze instantly on Xie Xin hidden in the firewood.
He strolled over slowly, about to reach out and pull the wood aside, when Xie Xin threw it open first.
Logs of all sizes struck Si Tan’s body, producing a clattering racket.
Two red glows lit up in the darkness, swiftly locking onto their prey.
The firewood was shredded to splinters in an instant!
The green heron sword left its sheath, whistling through the air. Si Tan dodged it with ease, not forgetting to sneer at this reckless young fool: “You’re the help he found? A useless piece of decoration.”
Si Tan merely raised his hand slightly, and Xie Xin could no longer move. He was dragged backward by a powerful force and slammed hard against the wall.
“Cough, cough!”
Xie Xin braced himself on his sword, kneeling half on the ground, a metallic sweetness rising in his throat.
Si Tan stepped forward, but before he could reach Xie Xin, an arrow shot down from the rafters, slicing across the back of Si Tan’s hand, cutting deep enough to expose bone.
Yu Yu leaped down from the rafters, blocking Si Tan’s path in front of Xie Xin.
“Do you want to burn the boat and break the net?” Yu Yu raised his bow, holding it horizontally between himself and Si Tan.
Forced to retreat, Si Tan raised his hands in surrender: “Of course not. Go ahead, do as you please.” He carefully backed out of the kitchen, climbed over the wall, and vanished in a flash.
The puppets that had been under his control collapsed outside once the restraint was lifted.
Only then did Yu Yu turn to look at Xie Xin, who was barely holding himself up on the ground, drops of blood fell from the corner of his mouth, already pooling into a small puddle before him.
In the unlit kitchen, the blood was a glaring red.
Frustration churned in Yu Yu’s heart. He reached out, pulled Xie Xin to his feet, pried open his mouth to feed him a pill, and swiftly hoisted Xie Xin onto his back.