Ch 62: Guide to Feeding a Villainous Husband

After sending off Dr. Xu, Yu Jiuque mentioned that he felt tired again.

Qin Xia tucked him in carefully, placing a small incense burner by the bedside and lighting a stick of calming incense bought from the shop. This incense contained agarwood, which wasn’t cheap, but mixed with angelica and cloves, its soothing fragrance did indeed help calm the mind. Ever since Yu Jiuque had tried it once and liked it, they kept a supply at home.

“I’ll be in the kitchen. If you wake up and want water, just open the window and call me,” he added. “You’re going to sleep now, so you might miss lunch. I’ll make something good for dinner. I bought a string of pork belly, and butcher Guo even gave us some pig trotters and marrow bones. Do you feel like eating something sweet?”

Yu Jiuque, who always felt a bitter taste in his mouth when unwell, nodded, his gaze fixed on Qin Xia without a word.

“I do. I also feel like eating some pan-fried mantou slices.”

He knew Qin Xia loved it when he made specific food requests.

As expected, Qin Xia smiled as soon as the words were out.

“If you’re craving something, that means you’re doing better. Once you wake up, I’ll fry them for you. We’ve got plenty of mantou at home.”

Qin Xia then recounted how he had been restless the previous night, unable to find Yu Jiuque and unable to report it to the authorities right away.

“To keep myself from overthinking, I went to the kitchen and steamed mantou—two whole trays.”

Yu Jiuque smiled. “I was craving them yesterday.”

Qin Xia leaned down and kissed him.

“It shows that we really are a perfect pair, thinking alike.”

Qin Xia left the room, carefully closing the door behind him.

He didn’t want Da Fu causing a ruckus, so he brought the goose outside with him.

A white cat with odd-colored eyes was fast asleep in its bed in the main room, so Qin Xia didn’t disturb it. The cat had wandered into their home two days ago, clearly pregnant and looking for a safe place to give birth.

There were other male cats in the yard, so whenever this cat tried to hide inside the house, neither Qin Xia nor Yu Jiuque stopped it.

“Come on, Da Fu, let’s go to the backyard.”

The garden was full of vegetables, which needed daily care—watering and weeding.

The Qin family didn’t use much manure in their garden. Qin Xia couldn’t stand the smell, and he wasn’t aiming to grow the best vegetables anyway, just didn’t want the plot to go unused.

He threw the weeds into the chicken coop, and Da Fu picked up one in its beak, only to spit it out.

The goose had become picky, only eating fresh grains, leaves, and fish or shrimp. Occasionally, it would join the hens in the garden, searching for insects.

Seeing that there was no food for it here, Da Fu wandered off to the other end of the yard, proudly strutting as it surveyed its domain.

After tidying up the garden, Qin Xia brushed the dirt off his hands.

With Yu Jiuque asleep inside, he didn’t call for Da Fu, instead washing his hands quietly and heading to the kitchen.

Yu Jiuque had asked for something sweet and pan-fried mantou slices, but with a full dinner planned for later, Qin Xia was unsure how to manage it all.

He paced between the countertop and cabinets, looking over the ingredients and thinking about what to make.

Although the kitchen was small, it was well-stocked—no less than the kitchens of large households like the Sang or Song families. There were several types of oil, a dozen jars of spices lined up, not to mention the wrapped spices stored in oiled paper.

There were nearly ten varieties of preserved vegetables, dried tofu, and seafood. Cured meats, sausages, dried chicken, and dried rabbit hung from the rafters, while two types of dried chili and a garlic braid adorned the walls.

“Fresh cow’s milk, goat’s milk! Fresh cow’s milk, goat’s milk!”

The cry of a street vendor echoed through the alley, sparking an idea.

Remembering he still had some spare change in his pocket, Qin Xia grabbed a clean jar, opened the front door, and walked a few steps outside, raising his hand to call over the milk vendor.

“Let me take a look at the cow’s milk.”

The vendor quickly brought over his yoke, which balanced two large jars—one with cow’s milk, the other with goat’s milk.

Cow’s milk was a bit cheaper than goat’s milk, as most people who bought goat’s milk were feeding children, while cow’s milk buyers had various uses.

“All freshly milked, no additives.”

Qin Xia nodded.

“Your cow’s milk is indeed good. I bought from you before, but after that, I couldn’t find you again.”

“You’ve got an eye for quality,” the man replied with a smile. “There isn’t always a lot of milk available. Sometimes families with newborns place orders, and there’s not enough left for me to sell at your doorstep. Next time you need some, you can go to the cattle market in the city and ask for Pan Zeng—that’s my second uncle. He’ll let me know when you need it, and I’ll deliver it to you.”

The vendor filled a jar for Qin Xia and continued calling out his products as he moved along.

Qin Xia carried the milk back to the kitchen, rubbing his hands together as he considered trying to make condensed milk.

If it worked, he could add a new dish to the restaurant’s menu—condensed milk with small steamed buns.

Condensed milk, being more shelf-stable than regular milk, could be a good product to sell. Qin Xia even thought about discussing a business deal with Xing Yiming to see if he’d be interested in stocking it in his shop.

Making condensed milk was similar to making fried milk, a process that took both time and effort.

Normally, Qin Xia wouldn’t have the leisure to prepare something so labor-intensive.

He poured the milk into an earthenware pot and brought it to a boil over high heat, then reduced it to a simmer, allowing it to boil three times in total.

A layer of milk skin formed on the surface, which Qin Xia carefully skimmed off.

At this stage, the milk was drinkable.

He added a generous amount of rock sugar and stirred as it simmered.

With the sugar, the milk gradually thickened during the cooking process.

Switching arms to relieve the strain, Qin Xia worked until his face was damp with sweat from the steam. He bent down, pulled out a few logs, and reduced the heat.

After a while longer, the milk in the pot finally reached a thick, sauce-like consistency—this was condensed milk.

Qin Xia used a clean chopstick to taste a bit. The rich milk flavor came through perfectly, and the sweetness was just right.

Using a clean wooden spoon, he transferred the condensed milk into a bowl to cool.

Once cooled, the condensed milk would thicken further, making it perfect for spreading on mantou.

Even Qin Xia, after stirring the pot for so long, felt his shoulders aching.

At this point, he gave up the idea of selling condensed milk at the restaurant. It was too labor-intensive, and one jar of milk yielded just a small bowl—not worth the price it could sell for.

Thinking this, he grabbed a small stool and went out into the courtyard to prepare the vegetables, taking the time to rest.

Two cats came over, pawing at the pea shoots in the basket. Qin Xia took one out to tease them, and to his surprise, one of the cats actually ate it.

Seeing this, Qin Xia gave it another pea shoot.

The afternoon sunlight filled the small courtyard, and Da Fu, tired from playing, curled up beside Qin Xia like a fluffy white feathered ball.

Qin Xia, glancing up at the sun, thought about heating water for a bath. But since Yu Jiuque would likely sleep until dinnertime, he decided to wait until the evening.

Inside the house, Yu Jiuque tossed and turned a few times on the bed before finally getting up.

The bedroom window faced the front yard, and through the wall, he could faintly hear the sounds of Qin Xia working outside.

Sitting on the bed for a while, Yu Jiuque heard scratching at the door.

He got up and opened it just a crack, seeing the pregnant white cat squeeze in, meowing twice before jumping onto his dressing table and lying down again.

This cat, perhaps because she was about to become a mother, was particularly clingy—much more affectionate than the calico cat that had disappeared after giving birth somewhere, only showing up for meals and vanishing afterward.

Yu Jiuque stroked the cat a few times, his hand brushing against her warm, swollen belly, and for a moment, he was lost in thought.

After a while, he glanced toward the clothes chest at the foot of the bed.

The papers he had hidden there were now a liability.

Now that his memory had returned, it was best to find them and destroy them.

Yu Jiuque checked through the window to confirm Qin Xia’s whereabouts, knowing that he wouldn’t come inside before he “woke up.” Then, he walked over to the chest, gripping the sides and pushing it open with force.

As soon as he looked inside, his brow furrowed.

The clothes had clearly been disturbed.

A wave of unease washed over him, and his outstretched hand began to tremble slightly.

Steadying himself by gripping the edge of the chest, Yu Jiuque gathered his resolve and pulled out the clothes hiding the papers.

With just this simple motion, he knew—his secret had been discovered.

Cold sweat broke out on his body, and as he shook out the clothing, he found the folded papers inside.

When he smoothed them out, he noticed subtle differences in the creases from before.

He took a step back and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, feeling as if he couldn’t breathe.

The writing on the papers was brief and scrawled, difficult for most to decipher—but Qin Xia would be the exception.

When Yu Jiuque wrote quickly while keeping accounts at the restaurant, his handwriting took on the same hurried look. Qin Xia could still read it without trouble.

And with his husband’s sharp mind, he wouldn’t need to recognize every word. Even understanding half would be enough to guess at the secrets Yu Jiuque had been hiding.

His heart pounded in his chest, as if it might leap out of his throat at any moment.

Yu Jiuque clenched the papers tightly, continuing to think.

The reason Yu Jiuque had hidden the papers in that chest was because it also contained his most intimate garments.

Though they were a married couple, once those private clothes were stored in the chest, Qin Xia wouldn’t touch them, for fear of dirtying them.

So when had it happened?

He quickly figured it out.

It was yesterday.

When he had suddenly disappeared, Qin Xia, who had already had suspicions about his past, must have been desperate and searched for clues in a panic.

The papers in his hand felt as if they were burning.

He had originally intended to destroy them, but now that he knew Qin Xia, the very person he had worked so hard to hide the truth from, had already seen them, it seemed pointless to go through with it.

A lump formed in his throat, and his chest felt as if a thousand-pound weight had dropped into it, dragging Yu Jiuque into an icy abyss.

He sat there in a daze for what felt like a long time. When he finally came to, the paper was crumpled in his hands, and the sky outside had darkened, as if half an hour had passed.

Yu Jiuque straightened his back, feeling a sharp ache in his lower back and a numbness in his legs. He gave them a half-hearted squeeze and a few taps, then dragged himself back to the bedside.

The white cat was still asleep on the dressing table. Yu Jiuque smoothed out the crumpled paper and placed it in the drawer, then climbed back into bed, pulling the covers over himself.

He tried to calm his emotions, also keeping an eye on the time.

Once he was sure that Fang Rong and Liu Douzi, who were coming to visit, wouldn’t notice anything unusual, he threw on his robe and got out of bed, making a decision in his heart.

“Husband, what’s for dinner? Let me help.”

Qin Xia had been about to singe the pig’s trotters to remove the hair when he turned around at the sound of Yu Jiuque’s voice, realizing he was awake.

He quickly tossed the pig’s trotters back into the basin and washed his hands in the clean water he hadn’t yet used.

“When did you wake up? Why didn’t you call for me?”

He glanced out the door. “Or did you call, and I didn’t hear?”

“I’m not a child. Do I need to call you just to get up? I slept enough, and when I opened my eyes, the room was already getting dark, so I got up.”

Yu Jiuque’s tone was light, but some things couldn’t be hidden from someone who shared your bed.

One glance at Yu Jiuque’s face, and Qin Xia knew he hadn’t actually been asleep—the exhaustion in his eyes was impossible to hide.

Qin Xia saw through it but chose not to say anything.

As a married couple navigating life together, their “deceptions” were all about preserving the peace.

It wasn’t that they didn’t care. On the contrary, it was because they cared too much.

“Go wash your face. I made something fresh for you to try. Come taste it in a bit.”

“What did you make?”

Qin Xia didn’t say.

“You’ll find out when you eat.”

Yu Jiuque went to wash up. After lying in bed all day, his body felt stiff and uncomfortable.

As soon as Yu Jiuque left the kitchen, Qin Xia started slicing the cold mantou into pieces.

When making the mantou slices for breakfast, Qin Xia usually coated them in egg wash. However, today, since they were meant to be dipped in condensed milk, he wanted the crust to be crispy.

He poured enough oil into the pan and placed the mantou slices in, face down, to fry.

The oil sizzled loudly, startling Dafuku, who had been lingering by the kitchen door.

Once one side turned golden, Qin Xia flipped them and used a spoon to spread the homemade condensed milk evenly over the slices, planning to flip them again for another quick fry.

He made five slices with condensed milk and another five plain, which could be dipped into the milk as desired.

When Yu Jiuque came in, he was greeted by two plates of golden, fragrant mantou slices.

“Why are they separated? Are those for godmother and Douzi?”

Qin Xia brought over the condensed milk.

“No, they’re just two different ways to eat them. Try this one first—I made the condensed milk myself.”

“Condensed milk?” Yu Jiuque’s eyes lit up at the milky aroma.

“It’s made from cow’s milk,” he confirmed.

Qin Xia nodded and dipped a bit of the condensed milk with the tip of his chopsticks.

Yu Jiuque extended his tongue and delicately tasted the small amount of condensed milk.

“Mmm, so sweet.”

But it wasn’t the same kind of sweetness as maltose or honey—it was smooth, lingering in the mouth, distinct even from the fried milk made from cow’s milk before.

“Delicious.”

He nodded repeatedly, licking the corners of his mouth like a playful kitten proudly showing off after sneaking a treat.

Qin Xia suddenly felt all his hard work had been worth it.

“When I have more time, I’ll figure out how to make milk candy—it’ll taste similar to this, but last longer.”

He also thought this would be a good business venture to collaborate on with Xing Yiming.

Qin Xia pulled out a small stool from the kitchen and invited Yu Jiuque to try the mantou slices.

“These are fried with condensed milk, and these are plain for dipping. If you get tired of the sweetness, I’ll get you some pickled vegetables to eat with them.”

At the sight of the food, Yu Jiuque’s stomach let out two grumbles.

Qin Xia grinned, “Go ahead and eat. I’ll wash the pig’s trotters.”

“Have you eaten?” Yu Jiuque asked.

When Qin Xia shook his head, Yu Jiuque picked up a slice of mantou with his chopsticks. “You eat the first piece.”

Qin Xia took a bite, leaving a big chunk missing from the mantou slice.

Tasting it, he found it delicious and quickly snatched the rest of the piece with his mouth.

Only then did Yu Jiuque sit down with his bowl and slowly start to eat.

He tried one slice of each kind, while a few untouched slices still sat on the stove.

“When godmother and Douzi come, they can snack on these first.”

Seeing that Qin Xia had everything planned, Yu Jiuque agreed and rolled up his sleeves to help Qin Xia prepare more ingredients.

Qin Xia glanced around and instructed him to boil eight eggs.

“Once they’re boiled, cut them with a decorative knife. I’ll add them to the braised pork later for tiger-skin eggs.”

Yu Jiuque fetched eggs from the basket and asked, “Did the hens in the backyard lay any today?”

“They laid two, and I’ve already put them away.”

Qin Xia held the pig’s trotters over the stove flame, slowly singeing a layer of blackened skin. He then carefully scraped off the outermost layer with a knife and inspected them in the light, plucking out any stray hairs that had escaped.

The two of them busied themselves around the kitchen, and by evening, Fang Rong and Liu Douzi arrived, carrying something in their hands.

“We wanted to come earlier but worried we might disturb your rest,” Fang Rong said, handing over a package wrapped in oil paper. “Try this—it’s jujube paste pastries I made.”

Yu Jiuque accepted the package, noticing it was still warm, clearly fresh from the oven.

“Pastries are best eaten hot,” Fang Rong said.

Qin Xia took the package from Yu Jiuque, and Fang Rong reached out, pulling Yu Jiuque into a gentle hug.

“My dear boy, you’ve suffered.”

Yu Jiuque felt a lump rise in his throat, but he quickly forced a smile.

“Don’t worry, godmother. The doctor already came by and said I’m fine—he didn’t even prescribe any medicine.”

Fang Rong’s worry eased, and she turned to Qin Xia. “Is that true?”

Qin Xia nodded.

“It’s true. I went to Chengyi Hall early in the morning to get Dr. Xu. You know he’s been looking after Ah Jiu’s health for a while.”

Fang Rong sighed in relief.

“Sometimes small misfortunes shield us from greater calamities. Now that it’s passed, let’s not bring it up again.”

Since being kidnapped was no small matter, Fang Rong didn’t want to dwell on it and possibly make Yu Jiuque uncomfortable, so she quickly dropped the subject.

Yu Jiuque led Fang Rong to the main room, then returned to the kitchen to bring out the mantou slices, pour hot water, and place the pastries on a plate, saving one for Qin Xia.

“Godmother said you should eat one while it’s still hot,” he told Qin Xia.

With Fang Rong there to keep Yu Jiuque company, Liu Douzi took over kitchen duties, helping Qin Xia.

“We’re making braised pork with tiger-skin eggs, soy-braised pig’s trotters, and a few vegetable dishes—all washed and ready. The main dish is mantou.”

Qin Xia listed off the menu to Liu Douzi and then asked, “How’s your cooking been lately?”

Liu Douzi answered honestly, “My mother says it’s still average. Nowhere near as good as yours, and not even as good as hers.”

He chuckled sheepishly, “But I did stir-fry a chicken last time and brought it to the Meng family. Later, when Meng Ge’er and his mother came by our stall, they said it was tasty.”

Qin Xia couldn’t help but shake his head.

“Do you really believe that? Even if you’d burned it, Meng Ge’er would still have said it was good.”

Liu Douzi just grinned, then mentioned he wanted to learn how to stew pig’s trotters. “I heard it’s especially good for Ge’ers. Is that true?”

Qin Xia nodded. “There’s some truth to that. If you want to learn, you can take charge of that dish. I’ll guide you while I make the braised pork in the iron pot.”

Liu Douzi’s enthusiasm soared.

As Qin Xia verbally guided him, he first heated the pan to make the tiger-skin eggs. After peeling the boiled eggs, it was important that they stayed dry. Once the oil was hot, he put the eggs in, occasionally turning them until the egg whites’ outer skin became wrinkled—then they were done.

Next, he moved on to the braised pork. Without adding oil to the pan, he tossed in the pork belly. As the heat rose, the pork naturally began to render its fat, releasing the rich aroma of lard.

When there was enough oil in the pan, Qin Xia used a spatula to push the meat to one side and sprinkled rock sugar into the spot with the most oil, stirring until it caramelized into a rich, reddish-brown hue.

The meat rolled in the caramelized sugar, becoming glossy and inviting, with a deep, appetizing red color.

On Liu Douzi’s side, he had also reached the stage of caramelizing the sugar for the pig’s trotters. Qin Xia went over to check.

“The heat’s not quite there yet. Wait a little longer. The sugar may have changed color, but it still won’t coat properly. Be careful not to burn it.”

Liu Douzi, nervous and focused, kept stirring without pause. Only when Qin Xia gave the signal did he finally relax and add the pig’s trotters to the pan.

Both pots were now seasoned, and the braising began.

As dusk fell, the evening meal at the Qin household was served.

In addition to the two meat dishes, stir-fried choi sum and garlic shoots with cured pork were also ready, along with an extra dish of shredded potato salad.

Initially, the pea shoots were meant for a meatball soup, but Qin Xia, feeling there was already too much meat, decided instead to make a large bowl of soup with preserved egg as the base.

“Look at this! We came to visit, and now we’re being treated to such a feast.”

The lavish spread always dazzled Fang Rong.

“Xia’s cooking is now fit for the wealthiest families. An old woman like me, eating the same food as the richest man in Qinan County—who would’ve thought?”

Yu Jiuque smiled as he handed out bowls and chopsticks, while Qin Xia placed a tall stack of mantou at the edge of the table.

“What feast? It’s just a meal. Whether it’s for the wealthy or for us, it’s the same vegetables, meat, and rice—nothing special.”

Suddenly remembering something, he added, “The Song family gave us plenty of ingredients. When we host the banquet at the restaurant, I’ll make Buddha Jumps Over the Wall again.”

“What’s that? Another dish?”

Qin Xia listed the ingredients, and Fang Rong’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Heavens, how much would a single bowl of that cost? Don’t waste it on us—sell it at the restaurant!”

Qin Xia replied calmly, “How is that wasting it? There’s no reason why outsiders should eat something that our own family can’t.”

Yu Jiuque, serving soup to Fang Rong, smiled. “Godmother, once Qin Xia says he’s going to make something, he’ll make it.”

Fang Rong sighed in resignation, “Well then, I’ll just take advantage of my old bones and enjoy it.”

With the topic settled, the four of them began their meal in earnest.

Liu Douzi, gnawing on a big mantou, mumbled through his full mouth, “Xia ge, your steamed mantou is amazing. Even after reheating, they’re still delicious.”

He tore open a steaming mantou, stuffed it with meat, and took a big bite, feeling like he might just ascend to heaven from the taste.

Yu Jiuque was also enjoying the mantou. The ones steamed at home had a fragrant wheat aroma and a satisfying chewiness.

Qin Xia had steamed a total of ten mantou. Between him and Liu Douzi, they ate two each, Fang Rong had one, and the remaining five were just enough for Yu Jiuque.

Liu Douzi, after finishing an entire mantou stuffed with meat, still wasn’t satisfied.

“I think if we sold these, people would buy them.”

After running his food stall for a while, Liu Douzi had developed an eye for profitable dishes.

Qin Xia swallowed a bite of vegetables and said, “I know a similar dish called roujiamo.”

Liu Douzi immediately said, “Xia ge, don’t tell me yet! Let me save up some money first, then I’ll buy the recipe from you.”

Fang Rong, who had been ready to step on her son’s foot under the table, withdrew her leg at this unexpected turn of events.

It seemed all the hard work with the food stall hadn’t gone to waste—her son was becoming sharper by the day.

A small food stall couldn’t hold too many dishes. Qin Xia asked about it, and Fang Rong explained, “It’s the Meng family’s idea. They have a small storefront in the city that they want to use as part of Meng Ge’er’s dowry. After the wedding, they plan to open a small food shop. The storefront is very small, so there’s no room for tables. It’ll be similar to a food stall, where customers buy food to take home.”

Qin Xia understood.

“That’s a good plan. A food stall has to deal with the elements, unlike having a storefront. Starting small is wise. Later, when you find something more suitable, you can move to a bigger place, and managing the finances will be easier, too. Godmother, Douzi, when the time comes, just come find me to discuss it. We’re all family; no need for formalities.”

Suddenly, Yu Jiuque asked, “By the way, Godmother, when is Douzi’s wedding again?”

Fang Rong replied, “It’s set for the twelfth month. The Meng family wanted to keep Meng Ge’er for a few more months, but time is passing, and it wouldn’t be good to delay it past the New Year.”

Yu Jiuque’s thoughts drifted far for a moment.

Last year in the twelfth month was when he first met Qin Xia, and this year, during the same time, he feared he might not be able to attend Liu Douzi’s wedding.

Life, like the moon, has its phases—sometimes full, sometimes incomplete, never perfect.

He quickly pushed the thought aside, smiling as he responded, “That time will come before we know it. Qin Xia and I should start planning what gift to prepare for Douzi.”

After dinner, Fang Rong insisted on helping with the dishes and cleaning up before she was willing to leave.

This time, they brought their own lantern, and the one Liu Douzi had taken last night was returned.

Qin Xia carefully put the lantern away, while in the kitchen, Yu Jiuque was boiling water for a bath.

“Even though it’s almost April, the nights are still chilly. I think we should light a charcoal brazier,” Yu Jiuque remarked.

He then asked Qin Xia if he wanted to bathe, to which Qin Xia waved his hand.

“Boiling two tubs of water is too much trouble. I’ll just wipe myself down.”

Yu Jiuque smiled and said, “Then after I’m done, I’ll help you wash your hair.”

“Sounds good.”

Washing hair didn’t require much water, and with the brazier lit, they could dry it quickly as well.

The two bustled between the main room and the kitchen, filling the bath. After the tub was ready, Yu Jiuque bathed inside the house.

When he finished, Qin Xia lay down on the heated brick bed, resting his head on the edge, noticing as Yu Jiuque untied his hair. His long locks fell into the warm water.

The scent of soap lingered in the air as Yu Jiuque’s fingers moved gently through Qin Xia’s hair.

By all accounts, this should have been a moment where Qin Xia’s mind would wander.

But on the contrary, he understood Yu Jiuque well.

His little husband likely had something important to say to him tonight.