“Changsheng!” Xie Yuechan was the first to spot Gu Changsheng peeking tentatively through the courtyard gate. She waved to him with a bright smile. “Quick, come wash your hands! Dinner is almost ready!”
Jitao had already directed the servants to move a small square table outside, setting a charcoal stove firmly in its center. Changsheng obediently washed up and took his seat, waiting with wide-eyed curiosity.
A moment later, Xie Yuechan emerged pushing a three-tiered wooden trolley she had designed herself. It was packed to the brim with prepared ingredients—sliced meats, leafy greens, and assorted delicacies.
Being only a child, Changsheng couldn’t contain his excitement. He craned his neck to get a better look, but his face fell into a mask of confusion when he saw the contents. “Third Sister-in-law, didn’t you say we were having ‘Hot Pot’ today? Why is it all raw?”
Xie Yuechan clapped her hands together as if the answer were obvious. “But these are the dishes for the hot pot!”
She maintained an air of mystery. Changsheng wasn’t one to pry; he simply gave a soft “Oh” and stopped asking. Ever since he’d tasted her Double-Skin Milk pudding, he had become a total convert. At this point, even if she served him something raw—or something that smelled like old socks—he would give it a polite taste just for her.
The servants began arranging the platters on the table. With over a dozen varieties of food, the surface was quickly covered, leaving only a circular space around the charcoal stove. Finally, a peculiar vessel was brought out from the small kitchen—a pot the likes of which Changsheng had never seen.
The large pot was divided down the middle by an S-shaped barrier, resembling the Yin and Yang pattern of a Taiji symbol. One side held a fiery red broth, while the other was a clear, shimmering soup.
The bases had already been brought to a boil. As the pot was set over the charcoal, the liquid hissed and began to roll violently, instantly filling the small courtyard with the rich, savory aroma of beef tallow and bone broth.
The cornel oil in the spicy side was a brilliant, daunting red, releasing a pungent fragrance that made one’s mouth water before a single bite was taken. Changsheng knew he was strictly limited to the clear side, but he couldn’t help stealing a few long looks at the red broth when he thought no one was watching, quietly swallowing his pride and his saliva.
“Third Sister-in-law, isn’t Third Brother joining us?”
Changsheng felt a pang of guilt. While they were enjoying this secret feast, his brother was likely huddled in his small study, eating the bland, uninspired fare sent up from the main kitchen. It seemed a bit pitiful.
Xie Yuechan slapped her forehead in realization. In her excitement, she had completely forgotten to invite her “husband of convenience.”
“Thank you, little brother! You just reminded me.” Since they hadn’t started yet, she turned to her maid. “Jitao, go and ask if he’s available.”
With the scent of the hot pot wafting through the entire manor, she was certain Gu Jingan must have smelled it from his study. Having just received his gift of the peppers today, it was only right that she showed her gratitude.
As the sky deepened into twilight, Linglong entered the study to ask if he was ready for dinner. After a moment’s hesitation, Gu Jingan nodded.
The chefs of the Gu estate weren’t lacking in skill, but the nobility of the era prized expensive, delicate ingredients and the “purest” flavors. Their cooking processes were incredibly tedious, yet the results were often underwhelming. A simple bowl of congee would be simmered for a full day in a rich stock; a side dish of greens would consist only of the most tender sprouts, with the rest discarded.
To put it bluntly, it was a waste of luxury. To put it kindly, the food was “elegant”; to put it honestly, it was bland.
Gu Jingan hadn’t minded it much in the past. However, after traveling the world and tasting a hundred different flavors—and especially after Xie Yuechan had opened the door to a new world of culinary delights—he found the usual fare increasingly difficult to swallow.
The maids moved quickly, setting out the light side dishes he usually preferred. Just as he was resigning himself to a tasteless meal, he heard the loud, unmistakable voice of Xie Yuechan’s head maid.
When Linglong reported that Jitao was asking for an audience, Gu Jingan summoned her without a second thought.
He had smelled the hot pot, of course. But since Xie Yuechan hadn’t sent word, he couldn’t very well go and beg for a seat at her table—it would look as if the Grand Tutor’s son was starving.
“My Lady and the Young Master have a small gathering at Luoxue Residence today,” Jitao said with a respectful bow. “She sent me to ask if the Third Master is free to join them for a ‘Red and White’ hot pot?”
“Changsheng is there as well?” Gu Jingan seemed to find the perfect excuse in his brother’s presence. After a moment of feigned deliberation, he nodded. “I see. Tell her I’ll be there shortly.”
He felt a sudden lift in his spirits. He stood up and glanced at the untouched, bland dishes on his desk. It was a shame to let them go to waste, but some sacrifices had to be made for a better meal.
“You can handle these dishes yourselves,” he said to the servants.
Since the food prepared for the masters was far superior to their own fare, Linglong beamed and offered her thanks immediately.
By the time Gu Jingan arrived at the courtyard, the thinly sliced mutton was already swirling in the steam. The meat, sliced paper-thin, curled into delicate ribbons the moment it hit the boiling broth. Swirled through a rich sesame dipping sauce, it was almost impossible to resist popping into one’s mouth immediately.
“Careful, it’s hot,” Xie Yuechan cautioned, thoughtfully pouring a glass of sweet and sour plum juice for Gu Changsheng to balance the meal.
Changsheng had never experienced such bold, intense flavors before. He insisted on swishing the meat himself—one slice, two slices, three—delighting in the novelty of the process.
Xie Yuechan had earlier dropped in an assortment of handmade meatballs. Now that the soup was at a rolling boil, they bobbed to the surface: snowy white fish balls, pink shrimp paste, and savory brown pork meatballs.
When she saw Gu Jingan enter, she arched an eyebrow in a casual greeting. “Have a seat, have a seat. Just grab whatever you like, dip it until it’s cooked, and dig in.”
Gu Jingan sat down with a practiced air of indifference. He cast a quick glance at the pot, surreptitiously observing their movements to figure out the proper etiquette for this “hot pot.”
The various meatballs tumbled in the boiling broth, appearing and disappearing like elusive targets. Xie Yuechan, looking like a seasoned pro, hovered over the pot with her chopsticks poised. Realizing that trying to track them all was a recipe for dizziness, she locked onto a single target. The moment a white fish ball poked its head above the surface, she struck with the speed and precision of a hawk.
In a flash, the prize was moved from the pot to her bowl.
Gu Jingan considered the maneuver for a moment and decided the level of difficulty was too high for a beginner. Instead, he followed Changsheng’s lead, picking up a slice of mutton and bathing it in the spicy red broth.
After a few breaths, he lifted it, checked that the color had turned, and deemed it ready. He swirled the meat in the thick dipping sauce until it was well-coated and took a bite. An explosion of nutty sesame followed, yet it didn’t mask the flavor of the mutton; rather, it stripped away the gaminess and left only the rich savor of the meat.
He proceeded to cook several more slices in quick succession, until Changsheng looked at him with a pout of pure betrayal.
“Third Brother, are you really going to steal food from a child?”
Gu Jingan realized then that he and Changsheng had been staring down the same platter of mutton. As the pile of meat dwindled, his chopsticks had unconsciously sped up.
Knowing that Changsheng had limited options due to his health, Gu Jingan felt a twinge of guilt. “My apologies.” He regretfully redirected his chopsticks toward the vegetables.
“The celtuce and potatoes are excellent too,” Xie Yuechan said with a cheeky grin. She reached over and placed a slice of cooked potato in his bowl. It had been simmering for so long that it was perfectly tender, threatening to fall apart under the slightest pressure.
“Thank you.”
Gu Jingan lowered his eyes, picking up the potato she had served him and taking a cautious bite. It had soaked up the spicy fragrance of the red broth, turning into a savory mash the moment it hit his tongue. This time, Xie Yuechan had prepared a classic oil-based dipping sauce for him, which mellowed the heat and prevented the spice from being overwhelming.
He was mid-chew when he suddenly felt a prickle of intuition. He looked up and found himself staring directly into Xie Yuechan’s intense, unblinking gaze. The way she was watching him—openly and without a shred of bashfulness—was deeply unsettling.
Feeling a wave of self-consciousness, he set down his chopsticks. She followed suit instantly.
“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, his voice tight. “Is there… something on my face?”