After seeing Prince Li and Nan Ling’er off, Song Shi let out a quiet sigh of relief. Being a maid in ancient times was such a high-risk occupation—and you couldn’t even quit. It was torture!
She’d offended Prince Li. Her days ahead would probably be fraught with danger. Maybe she should run away one dark, windy night!
Song Shi hated that she wasn’t a special agent or an assassin who could vault over rooftops and make a stylish escape. She hated how weak her cheat[1]In transmigration and fantasy web novels, a ‘cheat’ is an extraordinary advantage the protagonist has, sometimes called a ‘golden finger’; Song Shi is referring to her own … Continue reading jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3717374_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3717374_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], }); was. Why couldn’t it give her some ridiculously overpowered ability?
“You were pretty ruthless when you hit her. Why’s your face so pale now?”
How could it not be pale? If Prince Li insisted on having her dragged off and beaten to death, no number of people could save her. The only way to keep her life safe now was to take good care of this man who loved making sarcastic remarks.
“Your Highness, are you hungry?” Song Shi called for the kitchen maid outside. She knew the Prince was coming to eat with them that morning, so she’d gotten up in the middle of the night to make breakfast, hoping to win some favor. Instead, she’d gained no favor at all—and was close to maxing out her hatred score.
Thumb-sized pan-fried buns, steamed dumplings, shumai[2]A type of Chinese steamed dumpling, usually with an open top and a savory filling; also spelled shaomai or siu mai. jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3717374_1_2').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3717374_1_2', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, steamed lotus-root-and-meatballs, steamed minced pork with egg, shiitake-and-chicken congee, and pork-bone soup with tiny wontons—eight dishes in all. They looked splendid laid out on the table, and their mingled aromas made everyone present hungry.
Fortunately, they were in the Prince’s Residence, where they stored some fresh vegetables for winter, so the ingredients were at least reasonably varied. Otherwise, coming up with a range of delicate, nourishing dishes suitable for a patient would have been a real headache.
Princess Consort Li raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t tried half of these dishes before. Thinking back, they’d hardly eaten the same thing twice recently. Even when a dish was repeated, the flavor and preparation were different. Just how many recipes did Song Shi have in her head?
“I don’t want congee. I want wontons.” Qi Jinrui knew that nothing Song Shi made tasted bad, but he still didn’t like drinking congee. When he’d first met her, he wouldn’t have tried even a bite if Mother hadn’t persuaded him.
“Yaoyao wants to eat everything!”
The Little Glutton’s spirits had been low, but at the sight of the food, her smile returned. A moment later, however, it faded again. “Grandmother, Uncle Rui, don’t eat it all! Yaoyao’s going to get Grandfather so he can eat with us.”
Without waiting for either of them to answer, she hopped down from her chair and ran out on her short legs. The maid following her nearly couldn’t keep up.
Princess Consort Li gave a quiet snort. She showed no intention of waiting for anyone and picked up a thumb-sized pan-fried bun. Its top was translucent, the filling barely visible inside, while the bottom had been fried golden brown. She popped it into her mouth. The wrapper was crisp and fragrant, and the filling rich, juicy, and delicious.
The steamed dumplings were just as translucent, their fillings a medley of colors. Dipped in the sauce Song Shi had mixed, they had a wonderfully complex flavor. A sip of light, savory chicken congee washed away the last of her irritation.
After a few bites, Princess Consort Li saw that her son still hadn’t touched his food and urged him, “Jinrui, eat first. Don’t go hungry.”
Qi Jinrui shook his head. He’d decided to wait for them.
“Grandfather, hurry up! Yaoyao’s so, so hungry. Grandmother and Uncle Rui will have eaten it all before we get there!” The little girl grabbed the cold-faced Prince Li by both hands and tugged him along.
“Would Grandfather let you go hungry? Come on.” Prince Li swept Qi Chuyao into his arms and headed out. “Grandfather will take you to a restaurant. Don’t you like Panlou’s crisp pastries?”
“No! Yaoyao doesn’t want to go. Sister Song’s pastries are delicious too!” Qi Chuyao struggled with all her might, stretching her chubby little hand toward a maid nearby to signal for help.
But the maid didn’t dare move.
“Grandfather! Go by yourself! Put Yaoyao down!” Qi Chuyao’s voice quavered with tears as she struggled even harder. Sister Song’s food was the very best. If she couldn’t eat it today, she’d be sad for a long, long time.
Prince Li sighed and turned into Qing’an Courtyard. He wanted to see for himself just how delicious Song Shi’s cooking was, that it had bewitched his whole family.
“Yan Qianlan, you’re showing me less and less respect!” As soon as Prince Li entered the dining hall, he saw everyone already eating. The anger that had just ebbed rose again.
“What? Do we need to seek the Prince’s permission just to have breakfast?”
Right in front of Prince Li, Princess Consort Li put a flower-shaped shumai, its wrapper thin and translucent, into her mouth. It was soft, fragrant, and savory. How was every dish so perfectly to her taste?
“Dad, come eat breakfast with us.” Qi Jinrui’s words dispelled Prince Li’s anger.
The two younger ones were much better: one had known to fetch him, and the other had known to wait. Prince Li shot a sidelong glance at Yan Qianlan, who was still eating. Still eating? Didn’t she know she was getting plumper by the day?
After glaring at his wife, Prince Li glared at Song Shi, who was serving him congee.
“I want noodles.”
Song Shi ladled out wontons instead.
Prince Li: “?”
She’d just been spared a beating, and already she’d forgotten her lesson?
“Dad, wontons are made from flour too.”
Qi Jinrui said the words Song Shi had wanted to say for her. Then he scooped up a tiny wonton with his spoon and put it into his mouth. The broth was delicious, the wrapper smooth with a little chew, and the filling tender and juicy. Once he swallowed it, his hunger eased and warmth spread through his limbs.
He’d eaten tiny wontons before, of course, but Song Shi’s were even more delicious.
“Grandfather, don’t be picky. Hurry up and eat.” Qi Chuyao held a pan-fried bun in one hand and sipped congee as she looked at Prince Li as if he were a child who didn’t know how to behave.
“Pfft.”
Princess Consort Li couldn’t help laughing.
Qi Jinrui lowered his head with a slight cough, afraid they’d see the amusement welling in his eyes. Song Shi wanted to laugh too, but didn’t dare.
“…”
Prince Li angrily picked up his spoon and took a bite. Hm, it was only so-so. He took another bite. Still so-so. Then he picked up one of the tiny buns. What was this thing? It was hardly bigger than a bite, and it was only so-so. He ate another one.
Breakfast disappeared rapidly from the table, and the person wearing the most disdainful expression ate the fastest.
Prince Li, unusually, ate until he was full. He discreetly rubbed his belly, then forced down one more meatball before finally stopping. It was pretty good, to be sure—but could it really nourish him as much as medicinal cuisine?
“Now, tell me: why did you beat Nan Ling’er into that state?” The subject made Prince Li angry again. If she had to hit someone, fine—but why hit her in the face? If she’d hit somewhere less visible, he could have pretended not to know!
Oh, so he was finally willing to let her explain what had happened?
Song Shi recounted everything that had happened the night before, accurately capturing her expressions and tone and describing the fight in vivid detail.
Qi Jinrui looked at Song Shi strangely. He hadn’t expected her to have such an infuriating side. No wonder Nan Ling’er had attacked her.
“Well done. Though you still went a little too easy on her,” Princess Consort Li said regretfully. Nan Ling’er was only a lowly physician, yet she dared covet the position of Commandery Princess-Consort. Did she really think she was worthy?
That was going easy on her?!
Her face had been beaten so badly she was barely recognizable!
Prince Li looked at his wife as if he no longer knew her.
Princess Consort Li smiled back. In any case, Nan Ling’er couldn’t be allowed to stay in the residence. She was a physician and knew quite a bit about medicine. What if, in her bid to climb the ranks, she shamelessly drugged Jinrui?
Her son had only just begun to recover. She absolutely couldn’t give Nan Ling’er the chance to make a move.
“Guanyue, arrange for someone to escort Physician Nan safely back to Jiangnan.”
“Yes.”
Prince Li said nothing in objection until Guanyue had disappeared from sight. Song Shi let out a huge sigh of relief. Excellent—another rival gone. What cause for celebration!
But with Nan Ling’er gone, there would surely be a Bei Ling’er, a Xi Ling’er, and a Dong Ling’er[3]The surnames are a direction-based wordplay: Nan means south, Bei north, Xi west, and Dong east. Song Shi jokes that if Nan Ling’er leaves, rivals from every other direction may appear. jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3717374_1_3').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3717374_1_3', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], }); in the future. Her position as head cook was still hanging by a thread.
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