The “Duck Wing Feast” at the Hall of Mental Cultivation ended with everyone completely satisfied.
The Seventh and Ninth Princes—those two little rascals—clung to Ye An’an’s arms and refused to let her go. They insisted that she promise to inform them first whenever she made something delicious in the future.
Seeing this warm, bustling scene, both Xiao Yuanzhi and Empress Wei wore rare, genuine smiles that had been absent for a long time.
On the way back to the Eastern Palace, Ye An’an felt like she could fly—her mood was that good.
Her “culinary diplomacy” plan had been a smashing success!
Now, the Emperor, the Empress, the Crown Prince, and the princes were all captivated by her cooking. Her status in the palace could be described as rock-solid.
It was time for the second phase of her plan—making money.
Ye An’an glanced at Xiao Jingshi, sitting upright beside her and pretending to rest with his eyes closed, and cleared her throat.
“Your Highness.”
“Hm?” Xiao Jingshi opened his eyes, looking at her calmly.
“About the thing we discussed yesterday… the money matter. I have an idea, but I’m not sure if I should say it,” Ye An’an said cautiously.
Xiao Jingshi raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised that she was bringing this up herself.
“But go ahead,” he said.
“I think… my marinated delicacies could be sold for profit,” she said bluntly, going straight to the point.
“…” For the first time, a trace of astonishment crossed Xiao Jingshi’s face.
He had expected her to propose some typical household advice—budgeting, bookkeeping—but he never imagined she actually wanted to… do business.
And using her status as a Crown Prince’s concubine to sell… pig offal?
“Nonsense,” he almost instinctively rejected the idea. “You are a consort of the Eastern Palace and the future mother of princes. How could you engage in commercial business? It’s utterly improper!”
“Improper? Can ‘improper’ put food on the table? Can it repair dikes?” Ye An’an had anticipated this reaction and was not angry at all. Instead, she argued her case.
“Your Highness, think about it. You personally tasted my marinated dishes. Father, Mother, the Seventh and Ninth Princes—who didn’t love them? What does that mean? It means there’s a market for them!”
She counted on her fingers, explaining the math to Xiao Jingshi.
“The ingredients for marinated delicacies—pig trotters, pork intestines, chicken feet, duck wings—aren’t these considered ‘offal,’ something you can’t even serve in the palace or at noble households? Usually, they’re thrown away or given to servants, right?”
Xiao Jingshi fell silent, tacitly agreeing.
“So the cost of these ingredients is extremely low, almost negligible, right?”
“But with my hands and my secret recipe, they turn into delicacies even the Emperor can’t stop praising! The profit margin must be huge. Your Highness, have you ever done the math?”
Ye An’an’s eyes shone with excitement—inside them flickered a clear plan for business and an insatiable hunger for money.
“We don’t even need to sell inside the palace. We could find someone trustworthy to open a small shop outside. Call it ‘Imperial Delicacies’ or ‘Empress’s Marinated Treats’—the name has to sound prestigious! We’ll target only the high-end market, selling to wealthy nobles and princes.”
“Imagine it: even the Emperor says my marinated intestines are delicious—wouldn’t they be curious? Wouldn’t they come buy? We’ll do scarcity marketing: daily limited supply. Want some? You must preorder! And the price… of course, it must match its ‘imperial’ status!”
Ye An’an grew more and more excited as she spoke, as if she could already see countless gold ingots waving at her.
Xiao Jingshi was stunned by her wild yet seemingly logical business proposal.
Looking at this lively, radiant woman, he realized for the first time that she wasn’t just a talented cook—she actually had an astonishing business mind.
His mind, filled with Confucian classics and statecraft, had never entertained such “radically unconventional” ideas.
In his view, scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants—commerce was lowly. As Crown Prince, he thought of enriching the state and strengthening the army, of comforting the people—not of “making money” this way.
Yet Ye An’an’s words dropped stones into the calm lake of his heart, creating ripples that couldn’t be ignored.
He had to admit… she might actually have a point.
“This… is absurd,” he said, still verbally denying it, but the tone no longer carried the firmness of before.
“What’s absurd?” Ye An’an shot back, unconvinced. “A gentleman loves wealth, and it should be obtained properly. We make money with our skills—no theft, no cheating, completely aboveboard. How is that absurd?”
“Besides, this money isn’t for my pleasure—it’s to cover your waterworks fund, right? I’m helping you solve a problem, Your Highness!” She even put on a slightly wronged expression, saying, “See? I’m doing this for you!”
Xiao Jingshi was both amused and exasperated.
He fell silent, pondering the feasibility of her plan.
Ye An’an saw the look in his eyes and knew she had a chance. She decided to push a little further.
“Your Highness, I know it’s hard for you to accept. How about this: give me three days, and give yourself three days. I’ll make one more dish to prove to you what ‘turning stone into gold’ really means.”
“What dish?” Xiao Jingshi asked instinctively.
A mysterious smile curved Ye An’an’s lips, and she slowly spoke the four words:
“Deep-fried… stinky… tofu.”