Ch 89: Guide to Feeding a Villainous Husband

The attackers were fierce, but Yu Jiuque was equally well-prepared.

Qin Xia didn’t know which faction these enemies belonged to, but they were likely those who had been defeated in the struggle for the throne, now desperate and bitter.

Given Yu Jiuque’s high status, he was undoubtedly a thorn in their side, someone they sought to eliminate at all costs.

Thus, the new emperor’s faction used him as bait, luring out the remaining adversaries to eradicate them.

Qin Xia’s expression grew solemn.

This was the first time he truly understood the nature of the era he had entered.

In the time he sat quietly in the carriage, lives were likely being taken just outside.

What novels portrayed in a few light sentences was, for these people, their reality—lives lived and lost.

The victors ruled, while the defeated were left with nothing.

The jade steps leading to the imperial throne were always paved with blood.

These events felt both close and distant to him.

Close, because his husband was the high ranking official.

Distant, because his lifelong dream was simply to be a good chef.

The moonlight shone cold like frost.

All twelve assassins were killed, their bodies swiftly disposed of.

The assailants were skilled, but fortunately, none of the guards perished. However, almost all of them were wounded, with many bearing injuries.

One of the more seriously injured was one of the guards who had accompanied them from Qinan County. Just a few hours earlier, he had been lamenting how he couldn’t afford to eat at Shengjing’s restaurants, saying he needed to eat more beggar’s chicken while he had the chance.

Yu Jiuque inspected the injuries and ordered that the wounded be taken to the nearest medical clinic for treatment as soon as possible.

The scent of blood lingered in the air. After giving his final instructions, Yu Jiuque turned and made his way back to the carriage.

He had only taken a few steps when he wrinkled his nose in disgust, removing his cloak and tossing it to Ding Peng.

“Burn it.”

The hem of the cloak had been stained with blood from the ground, and he didn’t want Qin Xia to see such filth.

Just then, Yu Jiuque stepped into the grass and triggered a hidden mechanism left behind by the attackers.

A concealed weapon shot out rapidly. No one had time to intervene. Normally, he could have used the cloak to shield himself, but it had just been discarded.

His reflexes weren’t what they used to be. Though he managed to dodge most of it, a small part grazed him, leaving a cut on the back of his hand.

Blood welled up from the wound, dark red in color.

The weapons carried by the assassins were naturally deadly. Though it was just a small cut, Yu Jiuque was already feeling unsteady, his vision darkening in waves.

Realizing something was wrong, he quickly took out the emperor’s antidote pill that he always carried with him and swallowed one.

The dizziness subsided after a short while, but then a bitter taste rose in his throat.

He coughed violently and spat out a mouthful of dark blood.

…

Two hours later.

Late at night, a small but clean inn in the county town was completely taken over by the guards. The only upper room was reserved for Qin Xia and Yu Jiuque.

An elderly doctor, who had been “invited” to attend to them, arrived trembling and left trembling.

This was already the third doctor to come, and each had patted their chest, assuring them that Yu Jiuque’s pulse showed no signs of poisoning.

The wound on his hand had been properly cleaned, the contaminated blood squeezed out, and the shallow cut was bandaged. There seemed to be no further issues.

Only then did the guards finally relax.

If anything had happened to the lord, they knew their heads would be on the line.

After vomiting blood, Yu Jiuque felt a lingering bitterness in his mouth. He took a sip of tea but soon put the cup down with a frown.

Since the last doctor had left, Qin Xia had also gone out and had not returned for quite some time.

Feeling restless, Yu Jiuque stood up and opened the door, where he found Ding Peng standing guard. Upon seeing him, Ding Peng immediately saluted and said, “Lord.”

“Where is my husband?” Yu Jiuque asked.

Now that the crisis was resolved, there was no need to use their false titles anymore.

Ding Peng dared not lift his head to meet Yu Jiuque’s gaze. The fact that none of them had detected the hidden weapon earlier was a failure on all their parts, and he knew punishment awaited them once they returned to the capital.

Silently sighing to himself, Ding Peng answered truthfully, “Master Qin went to borrow the kitchen from the innkeeper.”

Indeed, Qin Xia was in the kitchen.

Even late at night, the inn kept someone on duty in the front hall, so one of the attendants had been sent to help him with the fire.

The attendant had worked at the inn for a long time and had seen guests borrow the kitchen to cook before, but it was the first time he had encountered someone whose cooking smelled this delicious.

At this hour, there weren’t many fresh ingredients left, and even if they wanted to buy more, there was nowhere open.

However, since there were occasionally guests arriving late, the inn had prepared some basic provisions like dried food and some meat.

Qin Xia took a look around and selected a piece of pork.

The attendant explained that it had been bought from the butcher earlier that day and was being kept in the well to preserve it for tomorrow. It was still good to eat.

Qin Xia cleaned the pork, cut it into pieces, and began browning it with sugar before simmering it. The inn’s seasoning selection wasn’t very complete, but he didn’t bother going upstairs to his luggage to get more. He just made do with what was available.

Even so, the aroma of the braising meat soon had the attendant feeling hungry.

What kind of family is this, cooking braised meat in the middle of the night? Aren’t they afraid of indigestion?

Just as the attendant thought things couldn’t get any more unusual, Qin Xia asked for a piece of old dough and began kneading it.

The attendant watched as the flour turned into dough flakes, the flakes became a dough ball, and, as the fire under the meat was reduced to a slow simmer, the dough finished resting.

Qin Xia cut the dough into pieces, stretched them into long strips, coiled them, flattened them, and rolled them out. The attendant finally realized what he was making: baked flatbreads.

Though young, the attendant was quite talkative. Unable to contain himself, he remarked, “You really don’t mind going through all this trouble.”

Qin Xia smiled but didn’t offer much explanation.

This late-night meal was as much for Yu Jiuque as it was for himself. After what had happened today, he still felt a lingering sense of fear.

The act of chopping vegetables, braising meat, and kneading dough helped calm his nerves.

Once the dough was rolled out, it was ready for the pan.

The inn’s kitchen had two pots—one for braising the meat and the other for frying the flatbreads.

Qin Xia didn’t grease the pan but simply placed the flatbread in to cook. When the time came, he flipped it to cook the other side.

The flatbread came out with a golden center and white edges, not too thick.

He picked one up, placed it in a bowl, and handed it to the attendant who had been helping.

“Here, eat this while you wait. Once the meat is ready, I’ll share some with you.”

The attendant, suddenly wide awake, rubbed his hands against his pants and said, “I couldn’t possibly take your food.”

Despite his words, his eyes remained fixed on the bowl.

Qin Xia extended the bowl further toward him.

“Eat here, and I won’t tell your boss.”

Grinning with gratitude, the attendant thanked him. He had been hungry for hours while working the night shift, and now he eagerly bit into the flatbread.

Even without any fillings, the flatbread had the rich aroma of wheat and a light sweetness when eaten.

“Delicious!” he exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm, using the simplest words to express his praise.

By the stove, Qin Xia continued making a stack of flatbreads. Once the dough was all used up, he opened the lid on the pot of braising meat and poked it with chopsticks to check.

Seeing that it needed a bit more time, he put the lid back on and asked the attendant where the eggs were kept.

There’s still more to make?

The attendant, no longer surprised, fetched the eggs while still nibbling on his flatbread.

When he returned, Qin Xia selected a sturdy ceramic bowl from the inn’s cupboard, cracked two eggs into it, added a pinch of salt, and poured in a cup of warm water.

At this point, he began whisking the eggs with chopsticks.

The attendant realized he was making steamed egg custard but was puzzled about why he added water. If he wanted more, why not just use more eggs?

“Hey, can you get the water boiling?”

“Sure thing,” the attendant replied.

The attendant was engrossed in watching, and when Qin Xia spoke, he quickly returned to his tasks.

With the flatbread pan now available, he brought the water to a boil in no time. Qin Xia placed a steamer tray over the bubbling water and arranged the bowls of egg mixture on top.

He then grabbed the kitchen knife again, chopping up a plate of mild green peppers and a small bowl of vibrant green scallions.

By the time he finished, both the braised meat and the steamed eggs were ready to come off the heat.

“Wow!”

At this point, the attendant was convinced that the guest before him was not just a cook, but a skilled one at that.

Not only were the flatbreads and braised meat impressive, but the bowl of steamed egg custard in front of him was unlike anything he had ever seen.

At the inn, whenever the cook made steamed eggs, they were always full of holes, and the attendant had assumed that’s just how egg custard was supposed to look.

One time, a guest had complained that the custard was too firm and requested a softer, more tender version. The cook tried again, but while the surface looked soft, the inside wasn’t fully cooked.

That guest had refused to pay, and both the cook and the attendant had been scolded by the innkeeper.

Today, the attendant finally understood what “tender” steamed egg meant.

The surface of Qin Xia’s egg custard was as smooth as a mirror, so glossy it seemed like it could reflect a person’s face.

“If our inn’s cook were here, your skills would make him so embarrassed he couldn’t show his face,” the attendant remarked.

Qin Xia casually offered some advice.

“To make tender steamed eggs, you need to add warm water to the eggs.”

The attendant blinked in surprise.

“You’re just going to tell me that?”

Qin Xia chuckled. “Why not? It’s not some secret recipe.”

The attendant grinned in response. “You’re a kind person. I’ll use this tip to earn myself a little reward.”

The star of the meal, however, was the braised meat in the pot.

The attendant was already preparing to bring over a large bowl for the meat, but Qin Xia had other plans. Instead, he selected a few pieces of meat, placed them on the cutting board with the green peppers, and began chopping them together with a rhythmic chop chop.

Soon, the braised meat and peppers were finely minced and blended into each other. Qin Xia grabbed a flatbread, sliced it open, and stuffed it generously with the meat mixture.

The bread, filled to the brim with juicy meat, stretched wide open, making it impossible not to wonder: How satisfying would a single bite be?

The young attendant could barely speak now, fearing that if he opened his mouth, he might just start drooling.

Qin Xia made four of these stuffed flatbreads (roujiamo) in total, leaving the remaining meat filling and flatbreads in the kitchen.

“If any of our companions come looking for food, just let them help themselves,” he told the attendant.

At the same time, he didn’t forget to give the young attendant one of the stuffed flatbreads.

The attendant eagerly accepted it, thinking that tonight’s work had been well worth it.

Meanwhile, back in the room, Yu Jiuque had already caught a faint whiff of the food from inside. As soon as he smelled it, he knew Qin Xia had returned.

He quickly jumped up from the bed and headed to the door, just in time to hear Qin Xia telling Ding Peng outside, “I’ve made some food and left it in the inn’s kitchen. If anyone is hungry, feel free to go and eat. Don’t be shy.”

“Thank you, Master Qin,” Ding Peng replied, though inwardly he was conflicted. Without Yu Jiuque’s direct orders, they wouldn’t dare leave their posts.

At that moment, the door opened.

Yu Jiuque and Qin Xia exchanged glances. Yu Jiuque then turned to Ding Peng, his tone calm.

“Do as Qin Xia says. Whoever is hungry, go eat, but take turns.”

After giving this command, he raised his hand, intending to take the tray Qin Xia was holding.

“No need,” Qin Xia said with a slight raise of his chin as he walked right past him into the room.

Yu Jiuque, left with no choice, quietly closed the door.

Back at the table, the roujiamo and steamed egg custard were already laid out, their delicious aroma filling the room. Even though he hadn’t been able to drink even a sip of tea earlier, now, Yu Jiuque’s stomach growled involuntarily at the sight and smell of the food.

He had a big appetite, and his dinner had been just a few hurried bites while traveling in the carriage. By now, his stomach was completely empty.

This moment reminded him of the first night he met Qin Xia in Qinan County.

He had been so hungry, his stomach had been growling non-stop, and despite the late hour, Qin Xia had gone into the kitchen and made him a bowl of hand-pulled noodles.

More than a year had passed since then. His memory had returned, and his status had undergone a complete transformation.

But Qin Xia was still the same Qin Xia.

Dedicated to his kitchen, mastering the ordinary ingredients like oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar, along with a few simple dishes. Though it all seemed mundane, it created a world of its own.

How fortunate he was to have met someone like this.

“Back to reality,” Qin Xia snapped his fingers, pulling Yu Jiuque out of his thoughts.

After all, Qin Xia was a chef, not someone who dealt with the politics of the court or the bloody affairs of the secret guards.

Now that the original storyline had been altered, Qin Xia, a person from another world, no longer knew how things would unfold.

After preparing this meal, he had managed to settle his emotions.

Even if the sky were to fall, the only thing he would ever truly care about was whether the people around him were hungry.

That was all.

At this moment, there was only one question on his mind.

“Here’s the roujiamo, and here’s the steamed egg custard. Which one do you want to eat first?”