Ye An’an hummed a little tune as she returned to Tinglan Waterside Pavilion.
The moment she stepped into the courtyard, Fuyun came forward to greet her. But when she saw the large bamboo basket that Changting was unloading from the carriage, she froze in shock.
“Your Highness! You… why did you buy all these things?”
Inside the basket were exactly the items Ye An’an had bought on the street after her heroic act of “speaking up against injustice”—a heap of pork offal: dark pig trotters, tangled pig intestines, along with several pieces of liver and lungs.
These things were considered rare meat for ordinary families, but in the imperial palace, even the lowest servants would look down on them.
Fuyun’s expression was as if she had just seen something filthy, her face full of disgust and confusion.
“These are treasures!” Ye An’an’s eyes sparkled. She patted the basket proudly, as if showing off her spoils of war. “You don’t understand. If cooked properly, they taste even better than delicacies from the mountains and seas!”
“But, Your Highness, these things smell so strong… how can anyone eat them?” Chen Zhu had also come over. Looking at the contents, her delicate brows knitted tightly together.
“That’s because you’re amateurs.” Ye An’an rolled up her sleeves and began giving orders enthusiastically. “Changting, carry everything to the small kitchen. Chen Zhu, boil several big pots of hot water—add plenty of salt and vinegar. Fuyun, bring out all my jars of cooking wine!”
Although Changting found it strange, he had blind faith in Ye An’an’s cooking skills. Without hesitation, he took the basket to the kitchen.
The two maids were full of doubts, but they still obeyed.
Soon, the small kitchen became lively.
Ye An’an personally demonstrated how to clean the offal.
“The hair on the pig trotters must be singed over fire, then scraped clean with a knife.”
“Pig intestines are the most troublesome. First rub them repeatedly with salt and vinegar to remove the slime. Then turn them inside out and tear off the fat, or they’ll be greasy.”
“Slice the liver and soak it in clean water. Change the water several times to remove the blood.”
As she spoke, she worked with swift, skillful movements. She looked nothing like a pampered noble lady—rather, like an experienced chef.
At first, Fuyun and Chen Zhu felt sick and held their noses, not daring to get close. But seeing how serious Ye An’an was, they braced themselves and joined in.
The entire afternoon, the small kitchen of Tinglan Pavilion was filled with a… rather indescribable smell.
After hours of work, all the ingredients were finally cleaned. The pig trotters looked plump and white, and the intestines had become crystal clear, no longer carrying that unpleasant odor.
Ye An’an was so tired she could barely straighten her back, but she felt deeply satisfied looking at the results.
She planned to make a braised assortment. Using her memories from the modern world and the top-quality spices she had bought today, she would create an unparalleled delicacy.
But…
She glanced at the sky and then rubbed her stomach.
Braised dishes were delicious, but they took time. They wouldn’t be ready for dinner tonight. And since Xiao Jing shi had helped her today, she wanted to make something special to thank him.
A pot of dark braised offal, though tasty, didn’t seem to match his immortal-like appearance.
She needed something else.
The weather was growing cooler. The autumn wind carried a hint of chill.
A spark of inspiration flashed in Ye An’an’s mind.
When the weather turns cold, what could be happier than hot pot?
Yes—hot pot!
Not the heavy, spicy one from last time, but a nourishing version that focused on a flavorful broth.
She remembered that the steward had delivered an old hen earlier, saying it was a gift from the Empress. It was perfect timing.
“Fuyun, bring out that chicken and chop it into pieces.”
“Chen Zhu, go to the storeroom and fetch some Chinese yam, red dates, and goji berries.”
Ye An’an’s fighting spirit reignited as she began directing everything in an orderly way.
She planned to make a Chinese yam and black chicken hot pot.
Using the old hen, Chinese yam, red dates, goji berries, and a few slices of ginger, she put everything into a clay pot, added plenty of water, and simmered it slowly over low heat.
This soup required no complicated seasoning. The key was the natural flavor of the ingredients.
Soon, the clay pot began to bubble. A rich, sweet fragrance of chicken soup drifted out, overpowering the earlier smell and spreading throughout the courtyard of Tinglan Pavilion.
Fuyun and Chen Zhu nearly drooled.
“Your Highness, just smelling this soup makes it seem so delicious!” Fuyun said dreamily.
“This is only the beginning.” Ye An’an smiled proudly. “When the soup is ready and we start dipping meat, that’s when it’ll truly be amazing.”
While the broth simmered, she prepared the ingredients.
She had Chen Zhu fetch the freshest beef and lamb from the storeroom. With expert knife skills, she sliced the meat paper-thin and arranged it neatly on plates.
She also picked fresh vegetables from her small garden and washed them carefully.
She even made shrimp paste and pork meatballs by hand. The springy balls piled in bowls looked incredibly appetizing.
In addition, there were mushrooms, tofu, winter melon slices… a whole table filled with food.
Looking at the feast, Ye An’an clapped her hands in satisfaction.
Perfect!
Imagining what expression Xiao Jing shi would make when he saw this spread made her want to laugh.
She glanced at the sky, guessing he should be done discussing matters with his colleagues.
It was time to invite her “dining partner.”
“Fuyun.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Go to Jingming Hall and tell the Crown Prince I’ve made something delicious. If he isn’t too busy, he should come eat.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Fuyun responded with pride and hurried off.
Watching her leave, Ye An’an’s mood soared as well.