Late at night, the world was quiet, utterly still.
Ye An’an turned over in bed, only to be woken by a sharp pang of hunger.
She had eaten plenty that afternoon with the two young princes, skipped dinner, and now, in the dead of night, her stomach was protesting.
She had been tossing and turning, thinking about making pancakes in bed, but the hunger only grew stronger.
With a sigh, she resigned herself and climbed out of bed.
If you do it yourself, you won’t go hungry.
She draped a thick cloak over her shoulders and tiptoed out of the bedroom, planning to prepare a midnight snack in the small kitchen.
Fu Yun and Chen Zhu were asleep in the outer room, and she didn’t want to wake them.
The kitchen still had warm water, and the fire pit still held some smoldering embers—convenient.
Flipping through the ingredients, she found a bundle of dried rice noodles, some chicken broth, sliced meat, and vegetables.
Her eyes lit up—she had decided on crossing-the-bridge rice noodles!
She poured the chicken broth into a pot, letting it warm slowly over the fire. Then she began prepping the toppings, slicing the meat paper-thin and washing the vegetables.
As she worked, she noticed something on the kitchen windowsill: several potted ornamental chili plants, their tiny red peppers looking irresistibly cute.
Ye An’an’s instincts kicked in.
Rice noodles without chili were soulless!
She picked a handful of small red chilies, chopped them finely, grabbed some minced garlic and spices, and set up a small oil pan to make chili oil.
“Fsshhh—”
The sizzling hot oil poured over the chilies and garlic, instantly releasing a sharp, fragrant, slightly smoky aroma.
To avoid letting the smell drift and disturb anyone, Ye An’an carefully closed all the doors and windows. For a while, the tiny kitchen was filled with steam and spicy fragrance, a warm and lively atmosphere.
…
Meanwhile, in the study of Jingming Hall, Xiao Jingshi had just finished reading the last memorial of the day.
Rubbing his temples, he realized he too was hungry.
Changting brought over a bowl of white fungus and lotus seed soup.
Xiao Jingshi glanced at it and frowned.
Too sweet. Too cloying.
All he wanted now was something salty, hot, and preferably… a little spicy.
Involuntarily, his mind went back to that bubbling pot of spicy hotpot.
“Your Highness, would you like to try some?” Changting asked cautiously.
“Clear it away,” Xiao Jingshi waved him off.
Changting sighed and retreated with the dessert.
After a moment, he returned, sneakingly, and whispered, “Your Highness… if you’re still hungry, perhaps… I could check the small kitchen at Tinglan Waterside Pavilion? Maybe… there’s some left?”
By “leftovers,” he naturally meant the delicacies Ye An’an had prepared earlier in the day.
Xiao Jingshi’s heart skipped a beat.
He truly wanted to taste the food that woman made again.
He was silent for a moment, then quietly gave permission.
Changting grinned, carrying a lantern and guiding Xiao Jingshi like two conspirators, creeping toward Tinglan Waterside Pavilion.
Before they even got close, Changting sniffed the air.
“Your Highness! Smell that! There’s something cooking!”
Xiao Jingshi sniffed too.
A strange, enticing aroma—rich with meaty broth and a hint of spiciness—wafted through the air.
They exchanged glances and quickened their pace.
At the small kitchen door, they saw it slightly ajar, warm light and curling steam escaping.
Just as Changting was about to knock, Xiao Jingshi raised a hand to stop him.
He stepped forward himself and gently pushed the door open.
Then he saw a scene that would remain with him forever.
Ye An’an stood with her back to them at the stove, wearing only a thin, soft nightdress, her black hair casually pinned up with a hairpin.
She was pouring steaming chicken broth into a large bowl filled with raw meat slices, vegetables, and rice noodles.
“Fsshh”—the broth instantly cooked the meat, and the aroma filled the air.
Ye An’an lifted the bowl and turned, about to find a spot to sit and eat, when her gaze met Xiao Jingshi’s at the doorway.
“……”
“……”
For three seconds, the air seemed to freeze.
“Hi!” Ye An’an broke the silence first. She didn’t seem embarrassed at all, but rather delighted—as if she’d just found a dinner companion. She waved the bowl in her hand.
“Your Highness, fancy seeing you here. Hungry too? Want to eat together?”
Xiao Jingshi was caught off guard by her casual, familiar tone.
Before he could respond, Ye An’an had already grabbed another large bowl from the cabinet and was deftly preparing a second portion.
“Since you’re here, don’t be shy,” she said, adding noodles to the bowls without even looking up.
Watching her busy back, Xiao Jingshi found himself drawn in, almost compelled to step inside.
The kitchen was warm, the steam carried a spicy fragrance that teased his empty stomach mercilessly.
Soon, the second bowl of crossing-the-bridge rice noodles was ready.
Ye An’an placed both bowls on the small table and set the freshly made chili oil in the middle.
“Try my new chili oil—it’s insanely fragrant!” she said, scooping a generous spoonful into her own bowl. The broth instantly took on a fiery red hue.
Xiao Jingshi glanced at the chili oil in her bowl, then at his own clear chicken broth, hesitating.
“Not feeling adventurous with the spice?” Ye An’an teased, noticing his pause.
Ever since that first spicy hotpot, Xiao Jingshi had secretly wanted more, but his lips had burned the next day.
Yet watching Ye An’an eat so joyfully, he couldn’t resist.
“…I’ll try it,” he said cautiously.
Mimicking her, he carefully added a little chili oil to his bowl.
He lifted a chopstick of noodles with meat and vegetables and tasted it.
The noodles were smooth, the meat tender, the broth rich.
Then came the fiery heat—a sudden, blazing shock on his tongue!
“Hss—”
Caught off guard, sweat instantly formed on his forehead.
So spicy!
Yet strangely, the heat didn’t repel him—it was invigorating, teasing his taste buds, making him want another bite.
He ate faster and faster, the spice intensifying, sweat dripping, his handsome face flushed.
Ye An’an watched, laughing to herself.
She hadn’t expected this “aloof flower” to secretly love spicy food.
Soon, both bowls were emptied, soup and all.
Xiao Jingshi set down his bowl, exhaling deeply, feeling thoroughly satisfied and invigorated.
“Full?” Ye An’an asked.
He nodded.
“All right, then. Go back and sleep. Goodnight, goodbye!” Ye An’an stood, starting to clear the bowls, her tone brisk as she shooed him out.
Xiao Jingshi froze.
She… was sending him away just like that?
He had thought that being called to share a midnight snack meant… some other kind of signal.
Turns out she just wanted a dinner companion.
Watching Ye An’an’s indifferent, almost slightly annoyed back, he felt a new emotion—one he recognized as frustration.
Awkward and unwilling, he stood up. Under her “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” he quietly left the small kitchen.
Standing in the cool moonlight, the night wind brushing against him, he finally felt his cheeks burn.
He realized… he was looking forward to something.