Yan Junnuo had a daily routine of practicing swordplay for two hours, followed by bathing and attending to miscellaneous affairs—even during their newlywed period, this remained unchanged.
Xiang Zhile arrived carrying a food box and soon spotted his sweat-drenched figure on the training grounds.
Yan Junnuo, who had been about to sheathe his sword, noticed her arrival and deliberately extended his practice by another half-hour.
Only after he had sheathed his sword and regulated his breathing did Xiang Zhile take the towel from a kneeling servant who held it aloft and hand it to him.
He accepted the towel casually and asked coldly, “What is it?”
Xiang Zhile raised the food box slightly, beaming brightly. “To have breakfast with you.”
His eyes flickered imperceptibly toward the food box, and he swallowed subtly before changing the subject. “Where are Chun Chou and Qiu Si?”
As he spoke, he placed the towel on the wooden tray held by the kneeling servant.
Knowing he felt insecure, Xiang Zhile glanced at him shyly. “I… wanted to be alone with you, so I told them not to follow. After all, it’s not like I can escape from the Regent Manor.”
A faint, mocking smile curled at the corner of Yan Junnuo’s lips. “Have you thought up some new escape plan?”
Xiang Zhile shook her head vigorously. “No, no! You didn’t come back last night, so I’m here to have breakfast with you and also to bring you proof.”
“What—” Before he could finish, Xiang Zhile planted two quick kisses on his freshly dried face—and a third one directly on his thin lips.
Boom!
Yan Junnuo felt as if he had been struck by lightning.
This… foolish woman…
She… kissed him again…
After pulling back, completely unaware of his inner turmoil, Xiang Zhile complained, “You’re too tall. Next time, you’ll have to hold me or crouch down—it’s really hard to kiss you like this.”
Yan Junnuo snorted coldly. “Your honey trap is becoming increasingly skilled.”
The soft sensation of her lips seemed to linger on his cheek and mouth as he walked stiffly toward the bathhouse behind the training grounds.
The icy water in the pool helped restore a fraction of his rationality.
He must not fall for her tricks. If he did, this foolish woman would surely leave again.
After bathing, he reappeared before Xiang Zhile, refreshed.
While he was bathing, Xiang Zhile had instructed the servants to set up a high-legged table on the lawn beside the training grounds and brought over two Grand Tutor Chairs.
Seeing him approach, she immediately smiled, her eyes curving like crescent moons. “Guess what’s for breakfast?”
Yan Junnuo shook his head, his gaze shifting from the food box to her face.
Xiang Zhile proudly laid out the prepared Jujube Lotus Seed Porridge and meat buns in the center of the table, then retrieved two sets of bowls and chopsticks from the food box.
Noticing the jujubes, Yan Junnuo frowned. “I am not a woman. Why should I eat jujubes?”
Xiang Zhile carefully ladled a bowl of porridge and placed it before him. “This porridge strengthens the spleen and nourishes the stomach. Don’t get hung up on such details.”
The sweet aroma of jujubes and lotus seeds filled the air. Yan Junnuo, who had been about to pick up a meat bun with his chopsticks, set them down again involuntarily and picked up a spoon instead.
A mouthful of warm porridge slid down his throat—soft, glutinous, fragrant, and smooth, carrying the distinct flavors of the ingredients and a subtle hint of meat.
He could even feel the warmth of the food traveling from his throat to his stomach.
Then, one mouthful after another.
In just a few spoonfuls, the bowl of Jujube Lotus Seed Porridge was empty.
Without another word, Xiang Zhile refilled his bowl and brought a meat bun to his lips with her chopsticks.
“Here, just porridge won’t fill you up. Have a meat bun.”
Yan Junnuo hesitated briefly before taking a small bite from her chopsticks. The filling melted in his mouth, but what on earth was wrong with the bun’s skin?
“The skin is too tough,” he couldn’t help complaining.
“Ah?” Caught off guard by his comment, Xiang Zhile blurted out, “The kitchen staff kneaded the dough for the bun skins.”
Hearing it wasn’t made by Xiang Zhile, he didn’t hold back another critique. “Tastes awful.”
“Really?” Xiang Zhile quickly tore open the bun and took a bite of the filling. “I taught the cook how to season the filling. It seems alright to me.”
Could it be too bland, failing to mask the meat’s gaminess?
“The filling’s acceptable. The skin is terrible.”
“…”
After breakfast, Chu Shan arrived with the residence’s Steward Li.
Seeing Steward Li felt like revisiting another lifetime to Xiang Zhile, her nose tingling with unshed tears.
In her previous life, after Yan Junnuo’s death, he had confronted her furiously, demanding if she had no heart.
Even a stone, held so tenderly in Wangye’s hands, warmed by his passion and devotion, should have grown warm. Why did she remain so cold and unyielding?
How could she remain unmoved even by Wangye’s death?