The words “fried stinky tofu” slipped from Ye An’an’s lips, and for the first time, a crack appeared on Xiao Jingshi’s otherwise flawless face.
Stinky… tofu?
He seriously doubted his own ears. Tofu he knew—boiled, steamed, or pan-fried—it was mild, clean, a respectable vegetarian dish.
But “stinky” tofu?
Even the name alone set his fastidiousness and picky palate on edge.
“You… said what?” he asked again, frowning, as if confirming he’d heard correctly.
“Fried stinky tofu,” Ye An’an said with complete confidence. “Your Highness, don’t judge by the name. The smell might be… a bit special, sure. But the taste—crispy on the outside, tender inside, unbelievably fragrant! It’s a human delicacy, I promise!”
“….” Xiao Jingshi stared at her, skepticism creeping into his mind for the first time regarding her culinary skills.
Had this woman lost her taste sense?
“This matter… let’s not speak of it again,” he said coldly, shutting his eyes and refusing to engage further.
Ye An’an, seeing the ice-cold, untouchable aura of the Crown Prince, wasn’t angry. She knew well that getting someone as privileged—and as fastidious—as him to accept something called “stinky tofu” was harder than ascending to the heavens.
But giving up wasn’t in Ye An’an’s dictionary.
“You don’t want me to mention it? Fine, I’ll just make it and let the results speak for themselves!”
Back at Tinglan Pavilion, Ye An’an immediately set about her “stinking” plan.
The key to stinky tofu was that one vat of “stinky brine.”
In this era, of course, there was no ready-made stinky brine to buy. Everything had to be discovered and crafted herself.
Recalling culinary documentaries she had seen before, she had Chen Zhu and Fuyun fetch a huge ceramic jar and clean it thoroughly.
Then she drafted a long, odd list of ingredients for Chang Ting to procure outside the palace: fresh amaranth, bamboo shoots, pickled mustard greens, various mushrooms, and spices.
Chang Ting looked at the list, utterly confused, but obediently executed the order.
Once the items arrived, Ye An’an locked herself in the small kitchen, forbidding anyone to enter.
She chopped the amaranth stems, bamboo shoots, and other ingredients, placed them into the jar, added salt, spices, and cooled boiled water, then sealed it and tucked it in an inconspicuous corner of the kitchen to ferment naturally.
For the next few days, Tinglan Pavilion took on a peculiar atmosphere.
Ye An’an moved like a mysterious alchemist, repeatedly going to the kitchen, tapping on the jar, and muttering incantations.
From the jar emanated an increasingly strange smell.
At first, just a hint of sour fermentation.
Gradually, the odor grew stronger, more complex, until it became a genuinely “stinky” stench.
A mix of rotting vegetables and fermenting decay, pungent enough to pierce the senses, wafting through every corner of Tinglan Pavilion.
“Your Highness, what exactly are you doing in the kitchen? It smells… awful!” Fuyun was the first to succumb. Every visit to the small kitchen had her pinching her nose, nearly suffocating.
Chen Zhu looked worried. “Yes, Your Highness, the smell is too strong… if it reaches His Highness, it could be a problem.”
“Relax, relax, this is the smell of success!” Ye An’an said, savoring the aroma. She knew her stinky brine was a triumph.
However, to everyone else in the Eastern Palace, it was an unmitigated disaster.
The first to suffer was Jingming Hall.
Xiao Jingshi, buried in paperwork, noticed the faint but pervasive stench creeping through the window.
He frowned. “Chang Ting.”
“At your service.”
“Investigate the source of this foul odor in the Eastern Palace.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Chang Ting searched the palace, eventually tracing the smell to the small kitchen of Tinglan Pavilion, his face pale with horror.
Reporting back, he stammered, “R… Your Highness, it seems the odor… is coming from the side concubine’s kitchen.”
Xiao Jingshi’s hand froze over his brush.
Of course it was her.
Her three fateful words—stinky, tofu, fried—flashed through his mind.
His expression instantly darkened.
For the next two days, the stench did not dissipate—it intensified, threatening to overtake the entire Eastern Palace.
The palace maids and eunuchs groaned in protest.
“Heavens, what is that smell? It’s overwhelming!”
“I heard it’s the Crown Prince’s concubine experimenting again… what on earth is she up to?”
“His Highness has a cleanliness obsession—how could he stand this? I’d say this concubine won’t remain favored much longer.”
Rumors ran rampant.
Xiao Jingshi’s mood plummeted.
Every day he was surrounded by the penetrating stench, unable to focus on state affairs.
Several times, he almost stormed Tinglan Pavilion, demanding that the woman immediately dispose of the “biological weapon” jar.
But recalling her confident demeanor that day, recalling her claim that she could “turn stone into gold,” he found himself curiously restraining himself.
He wanted to see—just what could she possibly create?
Finally, when everyone was close to being driven mad by the smell, Ye An’an declared it was time to fry her stinky tofu.
She took the prepared aged tofu, cut it into small cubes, and immersed them in the fermented stinky brine for half a day.
When she retrieved the tofu, it had turned a gray-green color, fully infused with the brine’s pungent “essence.”
In the courtyard, she set up a wok of oil.
In front of everyone, she prepared to complete this “alchemy.”
The oil roared hot. She picked up a piece of the stinking tofu and, under the horrified eyes of onlookers, carefully lowered it into the bubbling oil.
“Sizzllleee—”
The instant the tofu touched the hot oil, it crackled violently.
A smell a hundred times stronger than before exploded, mixed with smoke, shooting into the sky.
At that moment, the entire Eastern Palace seemed conquered by the odor.
All who smelled it felt as if the top of their heads had been lifted off.
At the gate of Tinglan Pavilion, Xiao Jingshi, having heard the commotion, arrived. His face was black as ink.
He glared at the woman in the courtyard, smiling brilliantly at a pot of “toxic gas,” the veins at his temple throbbing.