Ch 93: Guide to Feeding a Villainous Husband

Since the new emperor ascended the throne, no matter how busy or exhausted Yu Jiuque was, he had never thought of giving up on his duties.

Today was the first time.

Right before him, the mushroom porridge was steaming, emitting the unique savory aroma of mushrooms.

The silver thread rolls were plump and white, with a smooth surface that seemed to glow on the plate.

The shumai had skins as thin as paper, faintly revealing the rich filling inside.

The pumpkin cakes were as golden as coins, and if left to cool any longer, they wouldn’t taste as good!

As a servant of the emperor, one must remain loyal to the emperor’s service.

Yu Jiuque silently repeated this phrase to himself over and over as he quickly stepped around the desk and knelt to offer his respects.

In an instant, the entire Directorate of Ceremonies followed suit, with the sound of people dropping to their knees echoing throughout the room.

“At ease, rise.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

As the head of the Directorate of Ceremonies, Yu Jiuque was the first to stand, and only after he did so did the rest of the attendants dare to rise.

Still, none except for Yu Jiuque dared to lift their heads.

“I’m just wandering around. Carry on with your duties as usual,” the emperor said casually.

Serving a ruler was like serving a tiger. What seemed like a simple statement from the emperor carried a very different weight in the minds of those present.

No one truly believed he was merely wandering around, but having received this command, they hurriedly refocused on their tasks. Some began sorting documents, others were copying official papers, and a few were preparing to run errands.

In the corner, a young eunuch was pouring hot water to brew tea for his superiors.

Looking around, the entire Directorate was bustling with activity, which only made the untouched breakfast on Yu Jiuque’s desk stand out even more.

Yu Jiuque now didn’t dare lift his head at all.

He was silently hoping that the emperor would move on—after all, the palace was vast, and surely there were more interesting places to visit than the Directorate of Ceremonies.

But fate was not on his side. The emperor’s attention quickly zeroed in on the breakfast on Yu Jiuque’s desk.

Or rather, he had likely noticed the aroma of the food the moment he entered the room.

“Jiuque, I didn’t expect you to be having a private meal like this. You haven’t had your breakfast yet?”

The emperor, in high spirits, walked over to Yu Jiuque’s seat, inspecting the plates and bowls.

At a glance, the dishes—several delicate pastries and small side dishes—looked exquisitely made, but the utensils used were rather plain, clearly not from the palace kitchen.

Yu Jiuque steeled himself and began to apologize.

“This morning was particularly busy, so I have yet to eat the breakfast I brought from home. I beg Your Majesty’s pardon, and I will make sure to correct this in the future.”

Technically, in all the government offices within the palace, officials were not allowed to eat outside of designated meal times, or else it would cause disorder.

Not only was it improper to walk into a room and smell food immediately, but if something like oil stains or soup accidentally spilled on the official documents, it would be considered a serious offense.

However, given Yu Jiuque’s unique position, he naturally enjoyed certain privileges.

Forget about eating breakfast at the Directorate of Ceremonies—he could even secretly host a feast, and no one would dare say a word.

The emperor smiled.

“Having three meals a day is natural for everyone. What offense is there? However, eating breakfast at this hour can harm your digestion, so do take care of your health.”

Yu Jiuque understood that the emperor was subtly reminding him, so he bowed his head and acknowledged it.

He thought this would be the end of the matter, but the emperor didn’t show any intention of leaving. Instead, he continued, “I’ve long heard that someone in your household is skilled in cooking, which explains why these small dishes look so unique. They’re clearly not from the palace kitchen.”

By this point, Yu Jiuque realized what the emperor was hinting at.

Ignoring his rumbling stomach, he stepped forward with a smile and said, “These are just simple dishes from the common folk. If Your Majesty doesn’t mind, may I serve you some?”

Seeing the emperor nod in approval, Yu Jiuque couldn’t help but think of the sweets that the crown prince had taken earlier.

This imperial father and son duo had access to all the delicacies in the world, yet they always seemed to target his household’s food.

The emperor took a seat, and Yu Jiuque assumed the role of a temporary attendant, offering the dishes after sampling them himself first.

Fortunately, the emperor showed some restraint, tasting just one of each of the three dishes. Even so, he praised them highly, showing particular fondness for the silver thread rolls.

He also remarked that the pumpkin cakes, filled with taro paste, were a bit greasy but added, “These soft, sweet treats are likely something children would enjoy.”

Yu Jiuque immediately promised to bring the recipe from home and present it to the imperial kitchen.

Satisfied, the emperor and his entourage finally departed in grand fashion.

By the time Yu Jiuque left the palace again, it was already nighttime, though still within the window for the evening meal.

Back at the mansion, Qin Xia had received word earlier that Yu Jiuque would be returning home for dinner and was already busy in the kitchen.

While Yu Jiuque had been hard at work in the palace, Qin Xia had kept himself equally occupied, taking the house servants on a tour through most of the capital city of Shengjing.

Now the kitchen had a large cupboard filled with ingredients and seasonings that Qin Xia had either brought from Qinan County or freshly purchased in the capital.

One time, Yu Jiuque mentioned oyster sauce, and after Qin Xia tasted it, he took some silver and bought out the entire stock from the shop, lugging home a large jar. The shopkeeper, who had assumed that no one in the capital would know how to use it and that the sauce would go bad, was thrilled to find a knowledgeable chef who solved his problem in one go.

With the oyster sauce, a few more dishes could now be added to the menu.

Currently, in front of Qin Xia was a basket of soaked dried abalone, a few green vegetables, and several red, round root vegetables that resembled oversized radishes at first glance. Few people recognized these, but Qin Xia knew they were beets, originally brought as seeds by traders traveling from the Western Regions.

To his surprise, when he decided to buy the beets for cooking, the vendor told him that they were commonly used as a dye rather than for consumption. The merchant eyed him with concern, as if worried Qin Xia would poison himself and later come back to seek compensation.

It took a lot of persuasion before the vendor finally sold him two large beets.

Qin Xia also learned that the fabric dyed with beet juice produced a unique pinkish-purple color known as “beetroot red,” which had become quite popular among the people of the capital. He had never seen this type of fabric in Qinan County’s cloth shops, indicating that the trend had yet to spread to the smaller towns.

Besides dyeing, beets hadn’t yet been discovered for food use or as a sugar source.

But coming from the modern world, Qin Xia knew that beets were the second-largest source of sugar after sugarcane. He had already planned to open a sugar refinery in the capital, as transporting sugar from Qinan County was not cost-effective.

Now, he had discovered a new raw material for sugar production.

Beets, unlike sugarcane, which could only grow in the warm southern regions, could be cultivated almost anywhere. Using beets for sugar production would significantly reduce costs.

It seemed like this idea could be put on the agenda.

Though the sugar refinery was still far from being established, Qin Xia swiftly began slicing the beets. The bright color resembled dragon fruit, which existed in modern times but not in the Dayong Dynasty. As he chopped, a sudden idea crossed his mind—he could dye Da Fu’s feathers a fashionable pink using beet juice.

And he did just that.

The others only saw the master carrying a small dish of beet juice outside, returning to the kitchen shortly after with a pleased expression, though no one knew what he had done.

Back at the counter, Qin Xia once again turned his attention to the beets.

Beets were edible, and their preparation was simple. They could be served cold in a salad, stir-fried, or made into a soup.

Qin Xia decided that tonight’s dinner needed a soup, so he chose the latter.

He started by simmering a pot of pork bone broth, adding chunks of potatoes and carrots once the water boiled.

In a separate pan, he heated oil, sautéed minced garlic until fragrant, then stir-fried shredded cabbage and beetroot. Once they were almost cooked, he tossed them into the soup pot.

The soup in the pot quickly turned a reddish-purple, visibly tinted by the beetroot. Once the potatoes and carrots softened, the soup was ready. Since it wouldn’t cool down in the pot, Qin Xia washed his hands, swapped out the large lotus leaf on the cutting board that had been stained red by the beetroot, and took out the soaked abalone. He scored the abalone with a knife, placed it into the broth, and simmered it until tender.

Next, it was time for the oyster sauce to make its debut.

He heated oil in the pan, added a generous amount of minced garlic to sizzle until fragrant, then removed the garlic, leaving behind garlic-infused oil. Qin Xia then added oyster sauce and white sugar.

Since the oyster sauce was thick and the sugar took time to dissolve, Qin Xia patiently stirred to prevent the mixture from sticking to the bottom.

Soon, small bubbles appeared in the sauce. He took a small bowl of the broth in which the abalone had been cooked and poured it into the pan.

Meanwhile, the abalone had already been plated on a bed of blanched, vibrant green vegetables. Qin Xia ladled the freshly made oyster sauce over each piece.

Just as he was finishing this dish, someone rushed into the kitchen with a message.

“Master, the grand attendant has returned.”

Hearing that Yu Jiuque was back, Qin Xia smiled.

“Tell him the meal is almost ready.”

However, before Yu Jiuque saw Qin Xia, he first encountered his beloved pet goose, now sporting patches of pink on its head and wingtips. These pink tufts, paired with the goose’s new peach-pink and willow-green woven collar, gave off a rather…

…spring-like vibe.

“What happened here?” Yu Jiuque asked, stroking the goose’s back as it affectionately waddled around him.

A maid quickly explained the backstory—basically, it was all the master’s doing.

Yu Jiuque chuckled.

He examined the dyed patches and guessed that it must have been caused by some kind of plant juice.

Da Fu seemed to enjoy the attention, and after greeting him, it paraded around, occasionally stretching its neck.

Yu Jiuque, playing along, praised, “Da Fu looks beautiful.”

“Gaa gaa!” Da Fu, delighted by the compliment, became even more boisterous.

After calming Da Fu, Yu Jiuque returned to his room to change out of his official robes. When he entered the dining hall, the round table was already laid out with five dishes and one soup.

The dishes were braised chicken, abalone with oyster sauce, scallion-braised ribs, stir-fried spring bamboo shoots with fava beans, stir-fried cabbage hearts, and beetroot soup.

The main dish was rice, but not just any rice—it was special tribute rice, Bijing rice, known for its pale green hue and fragrant aroma when steamed.

In front of Qin Xia was a regular bowl of rice, while Yu Jiuque’s serving was a large, ornate bowl fit for his status.

“This soup—why is it such a peculiar color?”

Yu Jiuque, grateful for the sumptuous meal, thanked Qin Xia for his hard work and took a seat. The first thing that caught his eye was the strangely colored beetroot soup, which was an almost unsettling shade of red.

“I came across this new vegetable from overseas, called ‘beet.’ I hadn’t seen it back in Qinan County, so I bought some to try. I made it into a vegetarian soup with potatoes, carrots, and a bit of pepper. Give it a taste and see if you like it.”

Yu Jiuque picked up his spoon.

Despite its odd appearance, the beetroot soup had a light sweetness, completely opposite to the intense color. Having lived with Qin Xia for some time, Yu Jiuque had learned a lot about cooking, and he could distinguish the natural sweetness of cabbage and carrots in the soup.

“This beet—what character is it? Does it mean ‘sweet’ like in sweetness?”

He had a preference for sweet flavors, and the soup, warming him from the inside out, made him narrow his eyes in satisfaction.

Qin Xia traced the character in Yu Jiuque’s palm—a single horizontal and vertical stroke followed by two diagonal marks, causing a slight tickling sensation.

After clearing up his curiosity, Qin Xia added, “You guessed it right. This ‘菜’ can indeed be called a sweet vegetable because it can be used to make sugar.”

“Make sugar?”

Yu Jiuque paused mid-sip, immediately thinking of the candied treats from their business at the sweet shop.

The couple exchanged glances, a shared excitement gleaming in both of their eyes.

“I have an estate just ten miles outside the capital, newly granted by the emperor. It hasn’t been tended to yet, but the old steward there sent some poultry, fish, and grains for the New Year. If we want to grow this sweet vegetable, we could start on the land there.”

Since the emperor had granted him such a large estate, it naturally came with dozens of fertile acres of land. The estate produced far more crops than the household of a few dozen could consume.

Before, Yu Jiuque had already planned to use the surplus for Qin Xia’s restaurant, but now this place would save them a great deal of money.

“I’m no expert on farming, but spring is probably the best time to plant. If we sow it now, it should be ready by autumn or winter.”

In the meantime, Qin Xia could get the sugar refinery up and running and experiment with beet sugar production.

Yu Jiuque immediately ordered a message to be sent to the steward of the estate.

With that, they moved on to enjoy the rest of the meal.

The abalone, enhanced by the oyster sauce, was rich and flavorful. The texture of the abalone was meaty and satisfying, and every bite brought a sense of contentment.

Yu Jiuque scooped some of the sauce onto his rice, which absorbed the flavor, turning the green Bijing rice a different shade. While it no longer looked as appealing as it had fresh from the pot, the taste was unrivaled.

The scallion-braised ribs were made with large cuts rather than small ones, and eating them required a bit of messiness, but at home, manners could be more relaxed.

The attentive servants, casting sidelong glances, watched their masters gnawing on ribs without a second thought, their expressions unchanging.

After the meal, Yu Jiuque and Qin Xia made plans to visit the estate together on Yu Jiuque’s next day off.

The recipe for the silver thread rolls and pumpkin cakes with taro filling was given to the Imperial Kitchen, and the crown prince ate two and a half silver thread rolls that very day—equivalent to a whole bowl of rice.

He found the dish both fun and delicious, especially enjoying the “silver threads” inside, which looked like little noodles. If not for his nursemaid’s teachings that food should not be treated as a toy, he would have pulled each thread out one by one to chew on slowly.

When this news reached the emperor, he was greatly pleased.

The chefs in the Imperial Kitchen, however, felt like they had been shown up by an “unofficial chef” from outside the palace. They thought, “How hard could it be to make silver thread rolls? We can do it too!”

But they hadn’t thought of it first.

Nevertheless, this incident inspired them. From that day forward, they began crafting dishes to delight the young prince, making buns shaped like little rabbits and hedgehogs, rice balls adorned with colorful vegetables, and even arranging vegetables into scenes like “Monkey Stealing Peaches” and “Chang’e Flying to the Moon.”

That’s a story for another time.

At present, Qin Xia, outside the palace, received a reward for his two small dishes.

He was given 200 taels of silver, several bolts of fine silk, various curios, and some top-quality ingredients usually reserved for the Imperial Kitchen. Among them was a box of dried sea cucumbers, each longer than an adult’s hand even before being soaked. It was clear that once rehydrated, a single sea cucumber could fill an entire plate.

There was also a container of rare “rouge rice,” even more precious than Bijing rice. Qin Xia examined a handful of it—the grains were long and slender, with a deep reddish hue.

Unlike Bijing rice, rouge rice was a luxury strictly reserved for the palace.

Xu Shi, who had seen plenty of rouge rice in the palace, explained to Qin Xia that once steamed, it gave off a unique fragrance distinct from ordinary rice.
“Besides, rouge rice can also dye regular grains red. The concubines in the palace love eating rouge rice, believing it helps maintain their youthful beauty.”

It sounded a bit like the concept of “you are what you eat.”

Qin Xia found it intriguing and decided to make a pot of rouge rice and lily porridge. The broth was a vivid red, and his little husband drank two large bowls, his lips taking on a hint of rouge as well.

That night, as the bed curtains were drawn, someone found various ways to taste that rouge color, calling for water twice before peace returned to the room.

…

By April, Qin Xia officially began searching for a shop in the capital.

To open a restaurant, the prime location was undoubtedly in the southern part of the city.

The four main streets running through the south were named after the Four Symbols: Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise.

These streets were long and straight, stretching from north to south. Though referred to as “streets,” walking from one end to the other took quite a while.

These four streets also had the highest rental prices in the southern city. Even a small shop could cost several hundred taels a year.

Indeed, living in the capital was no easy feat.

With no money in pocket, who would dare to think about opening a shop here?

Since leaving the inn three days ago and tagging along with Qin Xia as they wandered through the bustling city, Gao Yang had already been dazzled by the grandeur of the place.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his eldest daughter was somewhere in this vast city.

After so many years, who knew if she still remembered her parents’ faces? When they met again, they might not even recognize each other.

Sighing inwardly a few times, he was soon distracted by Qin Xia’s conversation with the broker.

Qin Xia had no intention of biting off more than he could chew.

Right now, he was just an unknown outsider in the capital. Opening a multi-story restaurant right off the bat could drain his entire savings. And once it was open, who would come to support him? Surely, he couldn’t rely on flaunting the grand attendant’s title to draw in customers.

So, he set his rental budget at five hundred taels. With the five hundred taels he had on hand, along with the two hundred taels the emperor had recently rewarded him with, he felt it would be enough.

Five hundred taels might be a fortune in Qi’nan County, but in the capital… it wasn’t much to work with.

The broker, holding a piece of charcoal, drew lines on paper to explain the situation to this out-of-town shopkeeper with some money.

“Judging by your demeanor, you’re not looking to open just a single-story shop, are you? Those are mere footstalls here in the capital. If you’re aiming for something with two floors and a courtyard, complete with well water, then forget about Qinglong or Zhuque Street. We need to focus on Baihu and Xuanwu Streets. If we’re lucky, we might find something suitable. If not, we’ll have to look further.”

Qin Xia casually asked the broker where the city’s three famous restaurants were located. The broker chuckled.

“You mean Jixian Tower, Dongfu House, and Taiping Pavilion, right? Taiping Pavilion is on Qinglong Street, and the other two are on Zhuque Street.”

Qin Xia started to get an idea and quickly pointed to the charcoal markings on the paper. “Then let’s focus on Baihu and Xuanwu Streets.”

In the future, if his restaurant made it big enough to turn the “Three Great Restaurants” into the “Four Great Restaurants,” they wouldn’t want them all crowded together in one place.

Being further apart would also reduce competition.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

Qin Xia suddenly remembered another preference. “It would be ideal if, when standing inside the restaurant, one could open a window and see a lotus pond.”

The broker rubbed his gums. “A lotus pond, huh… That’s going to be tough to find.”

Qin Xia wasn’t one to make things difficult. “It’s just a nice-to-have. If it’s not possible, the location is still the priority.”

While waiting for the broker to find potential locations, Qin Xia took Gao Yang to the side courtyard of the grand attendant’s mansion to start teaching him culinary skills.

Gao Yang entered through the back gate and didn’t see the grand facade of the mansion. He only knew it was the home of a high-ranking family.

No wonder Qin Xia’s husband, Jiu Ge’er, could confidently return to his family home. Living in a place like this meant they were either rich or powerful—likely both!

Thinking it through, Gao Yang dared not ask any more questions. In the capital city, every roof tile could land on three officials’ heads, and for a commoner like him, it was best to stay quiet.

Before long, Gao Yang had no time to think about such trivial matters.

Qin Xia taught him three dishes each day and even gave him a few handwritten recipes. To Gao Yang, these were treasures, and he studied them with fervor.

In comparison, the skills he had honed at Chang Yue Lou now seemed superficial, mere surface knowledge.

Qin Xia’s culinary expertise, on the other hand, was like an onion—peel away one layer, and another was waiting beneath.

Gao Yang realized that if he could master what Qin Xia was teaching him, he wouldn’t just remain an ordinary assistant chef at Qin’s Restaurant in the future.

People say that fortunes change, and perhaps Gao Yang’s luck was finally turning.

Grateful for Qin Xia’s generous teaching, he was eager to be in the kitchen from the moment he opened his eyes each day.

Here, he had the freedom to use as much firewood, well water, and ingredients as he needed, practicing without restraint. Everything he cooked became meals for the household staff.

When Gao Yang had earned about seven or eight points of Qin Xia’s approval, news came from the brokerage that a suitable shop had been found.

It just so happened that on this day, Yu Jiuque was off duty. After having breakfast together at home, the couple took a sedan to Xuanwu Street to inspect the shop.

At present, it was quite easy for Yu Jiuque to conceal his identity. Standing beside Qin Xia, dressed in the popular post-marriage attire for a ge’er, with his hair styled in a husband’s knot, the sharp aura of authority that usually surrounded him immediately vanished.

Unless someone of great rank appeared, no one would recognize him as the newly appointed head of the Directorate of Ceremonial.

“Take a look, this is the place!”

The sedan stopped, and the broker, who had followed on foot, was slightly out of breath.

In his hand, he held a large bunch of brass keys that clinked with every movement.

The couple followed the direction he pointed and saw a two-story building facing the street.

Yu Jiuque looked around, furrowing his brows slightly, and muttered to himself, “This place feels somewhat familiar.”

With that, he turned to the broker.

“What was this place used for before? Speak plainly.”

The broker’s keyring jingled, and he awkwardly rubbed his nose before sheepishly replying, “Ahem, this place is perfect in every way, except for one small issue.”

He raised a finger and said, “It used to be… well, a gambling house that was seized by the authorities.”