Ch 92: Guide to Feeding a Villainous Husband

To please the young Crown Prince, Yu Jiuque had made sure to remind Qin Xia before they left Qinan County to pack a large box of candies in the carriage.

However, in his haste to enter the palace, Yu Jiuque had completely forgotten about it.

But in front of the emperor, “forgetting” was certainly not an acceptable excuse.

Reluctantly, Yu Jiuque untied the pouch from his waist, offering up the variety of candies that Qin Xia had personally packed for him.

The Crown Prince gleefully took the pouch and reached inside, pulling out one piece of candy. Just as he was about to unwrap it and pop it into his mouth, the emperor spoke.

“You can have this after dinner.”

The Crown Prince instantly deflated.

“As you command, Father.”

The emperor patted his son on the head, and seeing that it was time, ordered dinner to be served.

Yu Jiuque joined the imperial father and son for dinner, and though he was seated at a separate table, this was already considered an extraordinary honor.

However, Yu Jiuque knew the real reason the emperor liked having him stay—it was because Yu Jiuque had a big appetite and always seemed to enjoy his meals, which encouraged the Crown Prince to eat more as well.

If Qin Xia were present, he might have jokingly explained to Yu Jiuque the modern concept of a “mukbang” (eating broadcast).

Whenever Yu Jiuque was around, the Crown Prince, who normally didn’t eat much, would end up finishing an extra half-bowl of rice. And though half a bowl might not seem like much, it was enough to make the emperor, empress, and everyone in the Eastern Palace happy for half the day.

Since Yu Jiuque had been mostly eating Qin Xia’s cooking lately, he needed a bit of time to adjust to the imperial kitchen’s meals again.

The imperial kitchen used the best, freshest ingredients, and the preparation process was intricate and time-consuming. However, no matter how exquisite the ingredients, the dishes often felt a bit lacking—perhaps because they sat too long in the kitchen before being served, losing their freshness.

This night was no different.

With Yu Jiuque eating earnestly, the Crown Prince, for the first time in a while, found the food before him looking more appetizing than usual. Spurred on by the promise of candies after dinner, he ended up eating more than half a bowl of extra rice.

As a result, everyone present was rewarded.

After dinner, the emperor called for the Crown Prince’s wet nurse to inquire about his recent eating habits.

Fearful of being blamed but unable to lie, the wet nurse explained that the Crown Prince hadn’t had much of an appetite lately. The imperial physicians had been consulted, and they diagnosed him with a weak stomach, prescribing medicine to help with digestion.

“It’s always the same excuse. He’s been taking medicine more than he’s been eating,” the emperor said with visible displeasure.

Yu Jiuque signaled to one of the attendants to take the wet nurse away, then stepped forward to offer some gentle words of advice.

In truth, while the emperor was constantly worried about the Crown Prince’s poor appetite, his own wasn’t much better.

Back when the Second Prince had tampered with the deposed Crown Prince’s food, Yu Jiuque, thanks to Qin Xia’s “prophetic dream,” had uncovered the plot in time. However, the emperor’s health had still been affected. Though he didn’t suffer from severe illness, he was frequently unwell.

A person’s weakened body often manifested in poor sleep and a lack of appetite.

Yu Jiuque had considered suggesting a change of cook, thinking that perhaps better food might solve the problem. But given that this concerned the emperor’s health and the Crown Prince’s wellbeing, he dared not speak so lightly on such matters.

The emperor asked a few more questions about Yu Jiuque’s injuries. Even though the bandages had already been removed, the emperor insisted that he see the imperial physicians for a checkup.

After exiting the emperor’s bedchamber, the sky outside had already turned pitch dark.

Yu Jiuque adjusted his official robes and, following a lamp-bearing eunuch, made his way to the Directorate of Ceremonies.

Although Eunuch She was still officially the head of the Directorate, he had been on sick leave for quite some time and had not appeared at court.

Now that Yu Jiuque had returned, the entire Directorate seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, as if their pillar of support had come back. Just as he expected, the paperwork and reports had piled up so high they nearly covered half the desk.

Yu Jiuque glanced at the overwhelming stack, feeling an immediate urge to turn around and leave.

Unfortunately, several urgent matters needed to be addressed and decisions made by the end of the day.

It wasn’t until the last drop of lamp oil had burned out that Yu Jiuque was finally able to extricate himself from the Directorate.

The imperial palace of Dayong would normally lock its gates shortly after dusk, but Yu Jiuque wasn’t leaving until well past midnight.

In the past, whenever work kept him this late, he would simply stay in the palace and sleep in the duty quarters.

But tonight, no matter what, he had to return home.

The small sedan chair swayed gently, almost lulling him to sleep.

When they arrived, the young eunuch softly called his name several times, rousing him.

“Grand Attendant, we’ve arrived.”

Yu Jiuque responded and allowed someone to lift the sedan curtain for him.

Inside He Guang Courtyard, Qin Xia was reclining on a soft couch, engrossed in a book of recipes.

He had found this book in the study, along with nearly twenty similar ones, and it was obvious who had ordered them to be collected.

Aside from the vertical text and lack of punctuation, which took some getting used to, Qin Xia was thoroughly enjoying the read.

Chinese culinary traditions drew heavily from ancient methods, and there was no rule that modern recipes were necessarily better than those of the past. In fact, the book in his hands was giving him many fresh ideas.

He was so absorbed in the book that he didn’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching. It wasn’t until the hem of a scarlet robe came into view that he realized Yu Jiuque had returned.

Looking up, Qin Xia saw that Yu Jiuque had already changed into his casual home attire. His loose robe fluttered gently, and his neatly tied hair had been undone, now hanging loosely on one side.

“What are you reading so intently?” Yu Jiuque asked knowingly. He was soon pulled into the large chair where they both barely managed to fit.

“I’m reading the books you got for me,” Qin Xia replied, showing him a page. “This gentleman wrote that mixing vinegar with egg whites produces a taste similar to crab.”

Yu Jiuque paused for a moment before realization dawned on him.

“Isn’t that like your ‘mock crab’ dish from before?”

Qin Xia chuckled softly. “There’s also a famous dish called Sai Pangxie (Better than Crab) that uses a similar method.”

It was said that even the famous scholar Jin Shengtan once remarked on his deathbed that eating peanuts and tofu together tasted like ham. It seemed that foodies from ancient times were not so different from those of today.

With Yu Jiuque back, the book could be set aside for now.

Qin Xia closed it and, leaving the cramped chair, moved with Yu Jiuque to the much more spacious couch.

“How did your trip to the palace go?” he asked.

Yu Jiuque took a few sips of calming longan tea.

“The emperor didn’t give me any trouble and even had the imperial physician check my pulse, so there’s no need to worry. But in my haste to enter the palace, I forgot something important.”

Without missing a beat, Qin Xia said, “The candy box? I saw it while packing and figured you’d forgotten.”

Yu Jiuque sighed, rubbing his forehead with one hand.

“Exactly. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but it just so happened that the Crown Prince went to see the emperor, and one thing led to another. I had no choice but to hand over the pouch and give him the candies you packed.”

It didn’t matter where the candies came from—the taste would be the same. But Qin Xia could tell that Yu Jiuque was still somewhat displeased about the Crown Prince’s persistent demand for sweets.

The playful side of Grand Attendant Yu was something only Qin Xia was privy to.

“Hand me your pouch later, and I’ll fill it up again tomorrow,” Qin Xia said. At that, Yu Jiuque finally smiled again.

Their first night in the new house, with a bed soft as clouds, brought them an extraordinary experience.

Afterward, under the covers, Qin Xia gently rubbed Yu Jiuque’s belly and kissed the birthmark on his neck.

The birthmark was a unique trait of Ge’ers. There was a belief that the redder the mark, the better a ge’er’s ability to bear children. But as Fang Rong had once said, it was nothing more than a folk superstition, not to be taken seriously.

“Don’t ever think less of Ah Jiu because of that,” she had said. “Whether a ge’er’s birthmark is red or not is as natural as whether someone’s skin is fair or dark.”

She even mentioned a neighbor from her old village whose birthmark was quite dull but still managed to bear two healthy sons after getting married.

Back when Yu Jiuque hadn’t recovered his memories, the color of his birthmark had indeed been faint. But now, it had brightened considerably.

Laying his hand on the back of Qin Xia’s, Yu Jiuque’s voice carried a softness that wasn’t there during the day, making him sound as if he could be easily coaxed.

“Husband, do you prefer a son or a ge’er?”

“I like both,” Qin Xia responded, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Yu Jiuque’s abdomen. After a moment, he withdrew his hand and pulled down Yu Jiuque’s sleeping robe, covering his belly.

“Then we’ll have one of each.”

Yu Jiuque’s eyes were already closed, but he continued speaking. “I never had a family growing up. I just hope our family will be as lively as possible in the future.”

Qin Xia replied to everything he said, gently patting his back, like soothing a child to sleep.

What Qin Xia didn’t say was that the thought of childbirth scared him. In this era, many women and ge’ers didn’t survive it—sometimes only the child could be saved, and sometimes both mother and child would be lost.

But he knew how much Yu Jiuque longed for a family, and Qin Xia shared that desire. So, he said nothing to spoil the mood or dampen their hopes.

…

A few days later, Qin Xia had adjusted to life in the capital. However, after seeing firsthand how hard Yu Jiuque worked, he felt even more sympathy for his husband.

On the first and fifteenth days of the lunar month, the grand court assembly required Yu Jiuque to be in the palace before dawn, and on regular days, while he could arrive later, it was never much of a reprieve. It was clear that living in the palace before had been a practical choice for Yu Jiuque, saving him a significant amount of time on the commute.

The restaurant hadn’t started preparations yet, so with time to spare before it opened, Qin Xia made it a habit to rise earlier than Yu Jiuque each day and head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for him.

During his brief period of working as a chef’s assistant in the past, he had to wake up early every day. One of the few comforts during that time was that the hotel’s staff breakfast was pretty decent.

He understood well how comforting a delicious meal could be for someone waking up early, and thus, he was determined to ensure that Yu Jiuque ate well and drank well.

After all, Qin Xia could always catch up on sleep afterward, so it wasn’t a problem.

Now, each night before bed, he would plan the next day’s menu. For instance, if he intended to make a dough-based dish, the head kitchen maid would lead the young maids to knead the dough early in the morning, saving a lot of time.

It was another early morning.

Qin Xia lifted the cloth covering the bowl and pulled out the proofed dough, preparing to make silver thread rolls.

The kitchen staff initially thought he was going to make regular flower rolls, and that the fancy name was just for show. However, as they watched him work, they realized it was a completely different recipe.

Qin Xia divided the dough into two halves. One portion he rolled into a flat sheet and cut into thin strands. The other half he rolled into long strips, then cut into small dough portions, which he flattened into wrappers.

The thin strands were then wrapped into the dough wrappers, folded into small bundles. After preparing enough to fill a steamer tray, the rolls needed to be proofed again.

Once proofed, the little bundles would rise slightly, becoming light and airy. At that point, they were ready to be steamed.

By the time Yu Jiuque had finished washing and dressing, ready to head out for the day, the food box had also been prepared.

“Inside, there are silver thread rolls, diced bamboo shoot shumai, pumpkin cakes, five-spice tea eggs, marinated cucumbers, and mushroom porridge,” Qin Xia explained.

Although it was meant as breakfast, Yu Jiuque often didn’t get the chance to eat it until after his morning duties. Because of this, Qin Xia always prepared dishes that would retain their flavor even after being reheated.

After bidding Qin Xia goodbye, Yu Jiuque quickly left the house and climbed into his sedan chair.

An hour passed after arriving at the palace.

By this point, the grand attendant was feeling so hungry that his stomach was growling. The more tea he drank, the more restless he became.

Finally, when he had a moment of free time, the young eunuch who served him hurriedly reheated and brought over the prepared breakfast.

Yu Jiuque exhaled softly and was just about to pick up his chopsticks when a voice suddenly announced:

“The emperor is here!”