Ch 101: Guide to Feeding a Villainous Husband

The doctor had come in through the side entrance along side Madam Xu, discreetly entering the Grand Attendant’s residence. By then, Qin Xia had already moved Yu Jiuque from his desk to the bed. Though awake, Yu Jiuque had red marks on his face from the embroidered patterns on his robe, making him a bit embarrassed to be seen. Thankfully, the strict rules of the Grand Attendant’s residence meant that the doctor wasn’t allowed to inquire about personal matters, and he was wise enough to know better. Practicing medicine in the northern city while being nosy was a dangerous game.

The bed curtains hung down, and a delicate hand emerged from within, resting on the pulse pillow. A multicolored silk thread, tied on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month for protection, was still wrapped around the wrist. Qin Xia stood nearby, looking visibly anxious.

Madam Xu, though childless herself, was experienced and observant. Over the past few days, she’d noticed changes in Yu Jiuque and had some suspicions, though she dared not voice them. After all, a Ge’er’s body was different from a woman’s, lacking menstruation and having more difficulty conceiving, so it was hard to tell just from appearances.

Today, the Grand Attendant had taken the initiative to summon the doctor, which Madam Xu thought was a good idea, as she knew that Yu Jiuque longed for a child. He had even subtly asked her about some palace remedies related to fertility in the past.

The doctor felt Yu Jiuque’s pulse for a while and then asked, “Please extend the other hand as well.” There was a brief hesitation from behind the curtains, but then the other hand was offered. The doctor felt both pulses and, after a few moments of contemplation, began to smile.

“This pulse is smooth and round, much like pearls rolling on a jade plate. It is the same on both sides. There is no mistake — congratulations, this is a pregnancy pulse!”

At the mention of “pregnancy pulse,” Yu Jiuque quickly withdrew his hand, and Qin Xia looked as if someone had stuffed a walnut in his mouth — for once, he was momentarily dumbfounded. But soon, his surprise turned to joy, and he eagerly stepped forward, nearly wanting to shake the doctor’s hand.

“Are you sure?” Qin Xia asked.

The doctor nodded repeatedly. “Judging by my experience, it’s been about two months.”

Madam Xu swiftly led the servants in the room in offering their congratulations. Qin Xia did a quick mental calculation — two months ago would have been around March, just after he and Yu Jiuque had reunited in Qinan County in late February. Well, that certainly worked out smoothly, he thought.

His smile grew wider as he turned to Madam Xu and instructed, “Madam Xu, please inform everyone in the residence — there will be rewards for all today.”

In the household, there were established protocols for such rewards, and Madam Xu acknowledged the order with a smile before leading the servants in bowing to express their thanks.

Qin Xia then asked the doctor about both the health of Yu Jiuque and the baby. As expected, the doctor mentioned that Yu Jiuque had been overworked recently, which could be detrimental to the child.

It was decided that a prescription would be written to help nourish and support the pregnancy. After the doctor finished, Madam Xu took charge of having the medicine prepared and discreetly ushered the remaining servants out of the inner room. She knew that, given the personalities of both the Grand Attendant and Qin Xia, they would not want anyone around at such a private moment.

Once the room was empty, Yu Jiuque finally threw back the bed curtains and leaped into Qin Xia’s arms, all traces of his usual composure gone. The weariness that had clung to him earlier seemed to have vanished completely.

He pulled Qin Xia’s hand over and placed it on his abdomen, where the gentle rise and fall of his breathing made the area feel warm.

“Husband, we’re going to have a child.”

The young man’s eyes sparkled, filled with light and a hint of tears. It was as he had said before — more than anything, he longed for a family. The warmth and care he hadn’t received from his own parents, he believed he and Qin Xia would give to their own child. The bond of blood, after all, was a form of legacy.

“How did you suddenly think of calling a doctor? Did you suspect…”

He thought about his recent exhausting routine and felt a twinge of unease.

Qin Xia held Yu Jiuque’s hand in return. “Seeing you eating less, sleeping more, I felt uneasy. Thank goodness I called the doctor, or else we’d still be clueless.”

There was already a little one, growing in Yu Jiuque’s belly for two months now. Just thinking about it felt like a dream.

“Our child is probably the size of a peanut now.”

Qin Xia remembered watching educational videos about embryonic development in his previous life, gesturing with his hand. In ancient times, there wasn’t such a concept, so when Yu Jiuque heard the comparison to a peanut, he didn’t even dare move. He’d heard stories of women losing their babies from just jumping a bit too much — if their baby was just like a peanut, wouldn’t the slightest movement make it disappear?

Qin Xia hadn’t expected his comparison to scare his husband, so he gently rubbed Yu Jiuque’s face, the red marks slowly fading. “Don’t overthink it.”

Yu Jiuque nodded, still in a daze, then reassured Qin Xia. “It’s hard for ge’ers to conceive, but since we have a larger build than women, giving birth is actually easier.”

This was something he’d heard back in Qinan County, and Madam Xu had told him more once they moved to the capital.

Qin Xia patted his hair. Together, they looked down at Yu Jiuque’s still-flat belly, grinning like fools.

By the time the new year arrived, they would be a family of three.

After giving rewards to everyone in the household the night before, Qin Xia went to the restaurant the next day to reward the staff. Each received a red string with 888 copper coins tied together, heavy in their hands.

“There’s good news in my family. Let’s share the joy together,” Qin Xia announced.

The staff, holding their unexpected windfall, all offered their congratulations. It wasn’t even noon yet, and as the restaurant hadn’t opened for lunch, Qiu Chuan pocketed his money and made a quick trip to the front door.

“Boss, Broker Lu is here to see you.”

Broker Lu had been the one who rented the shop space to Qin Xia. After that deal was concluded, Qin Xia had another request — he wanted to buy the lotus pond a few steps away from the restaurant’s back courtyard.

The pond was connected to a natural water source, though it appeared independent from the outside.

Broker Lu had wide connections in Shengjing and, after making inquiries, discovered that the pond in question was wild and ownerless.

“If you want to build a waterside pavilion or a couple of walkways over it, it’s no problem. You don’t need to worry—nobody cares. If you want to pull out some lotus roots to use for cooking, that’s even easier, just fish them out whenever.”

Relieved, Qin Xia quickly rented a remote courtyard in the capital and disguised it as a brewing workshop. At the same time, he hired workers to collect flowers from the pond. The pond was full of a common wild white lotus found in Shengjing, which could be distilled into a famous liquor Qin Xia had tasted in his past life, called Lianhuabai (White Lotus Liquor).

As the workshop was being set up, Old Man Zhao, the winemaker from Chuntai County, arrived in Shengjing with a fresh batch of fruit wine. He had received new instructions from his master to use the lotus flowers to brew a new kind of liquor. He was also tasked with providing testimony for the long-pending case regarding the counterfeit fruit wine.

The master had also promised that if the White Lotus Liquor was successfully brewed, Old Man Zhao and his two sons would have their slave status erased and would be given proper employment contracts, freeing them from servitude.

Old Man Zhao’s usually dull eyes lit up with sharpness like an eagle’s when he saw the familiar winemaking equipment before him.

…

After the first rain following the Dragon Boat Festival, puddles formed on the streets, with colorful five-colored threads floating in the water. Mischievous children would reach in to pick them up and stomp hard in the puddles, splashing themselves with mud, only to be caught by their parents, earning themselves a good scolding and some tears.

As Qin Xia passed by, he rubbed his ears at the commotion. Today, he was out to check on a custom order for a pot at the coppersmith’s shop.

The blacksmith, Tan, who had previously made the cotton candy machine for Qin Xia, introduced his brother, the coppersmith, when he heard that Qin Xia wanted to commission copper pots. The three Tan brothers specialized in ironwork, copperwork, and goldsmithing, and each ran their own shop on the same street.

When Coppersmith Tan saw Qin Xia, he had mixed feelings—pleased that this customer was generous, but worried because the job wasn’t easy. Making money from this order would be no simple task.

Take this copper pot, for instance. After a lifetime of making pots, pans, and other wares, Coppersmith Tan had never heard of putting a divider in the middle of a pot! And it had to be curved like the line in a Taiji symbol—just for aesthetics.

After working tirelessly for days, he finally managed to produce two satisfactory yuan yang (dual) hotpots, and promptly sent his apprentice to invite the boss of Heguang Pavilion.

When Qin Xia arrived, he inspected the product. He filled each side of the pot with water—one side with clear water, the other with ink—and left it for a quarter of an hour to ensure the two didn’t mix. Satisfied with the results, he tapped the pot a few times, weighing its quality, and was very pleased.

“Master Tan, please make twenty more pots just like this.”

Since copper was more expensive than iron, and with Qin Xia’s high standards, the order for 22 pots—including the samples—came to a small fortune, costing around a hundred taels of silver.

With the delivery of the rest of the pots pending, he paid a deposit and took the samples back with him. Upon returning to the restaurant, he called on Gao Yang to help in the kitchen, where he taught him how to make a broth base for hotpot so aromatic it could be smelled miles away.

While most people believed hotpot was a winter dish, Qin Xia aimed to break tradition and introduce his yuan yang hotpot in the height of summer!

On the stove, Qin Xia had gathered an array of spices, with each one placed in a small dish, crowding the kitchen counter. Even just the variety of peppers was overwhelming. A curious servant entered, intrigued by the unfamiliar sight, noting that it looked less like a kitchen and more like an apothecary.

Indeed, many of the ingredients Qin Xia was using, like cardamom, amomum, tsaoko, long pepper, and galangal, were sourced from a herbal shop. They were herbs often used in cooking but rarely by chefs, so the medicine shop was the most convenient place to get them.

“This broth base, once made, can last for several days,” Qin Xia explained as he picked up a spatula, ready to teach.

For spicy hotpot broth, beef tallow is essential. The beef tallow, sourced from Rong County, came in a large jar, white and almost pure. As the tallow melted in the pot, he sautéed ginger, scallions, and onions until dry, then removed them. Next came the crushed spices, which had been soaked in liquor to release their full fragrance. As the aroma of over ten harmonized spices filled the room, it was hard to describe it with just a few simple words.

It was clear that recreating such a complex recipe using only taste would be extremely difficult.

The rest of the ingredients followed: Sichuan pepper, fermented black beans, chili broad bean paste, and various types of peppers, which released a rich red oil and an increasingly powerful aroma. Finally, sugar and fermented rice were added to balance the intense spice.

Once prepared, the broth base could be cooled, divided into portions, and used as needed for hotpot. Qin Xia’s specially commissioned yuan yang copper pots had a dual purpose. The non-spicy side of the pot had two options: mushroom broth or tomato broth, catering to those who couldn’t handle spicy food.

As for the ingredients, there was a wide selection: beef and lamb slices, pork belly, chicken meatballs, fish balls, and shrimp balls, along with duck intestine, chicken feet, tofu, and bean curd. The restaurant had also prepared a “skewer bucket” system, where customers could select skewers marked with the names of different ingredients, turning the red-painted end upwards to indicate their choice, which the kitchen would then prepare.

The yuan yang hotpot gained popularity not just for its taste and presentation, but also for its name. One day, a group of scholars dined at the restaurant, and, inspired by the meal, decided to compose a poem. Qin Xia immediately provided them with pen and ink, directing them to write it on one of the restaurant’s white walls.

Writing on walls had long been a favored pastime for literary men, and the lead scholar composed a seven-character quatrain dedicated to the dual hotpot. Additionally, since scholars often enjoyed adding a romantic twist to their writings, the poem likened the Yuan Yang Hotpot to a symbol of love, elevating the dish to one that “lovers must share,” much to Qin Xia’s surprise.

Qin Xia’s appreciation for poetry was limited, but he could tell that the poem had a catchy rhythm. With ready-made advertising in hand, his business-savvy mind went to work, making sure not to waste the opportunity. He took out a large handful of copper coins and candies and sent his staff out to teach the local children to memorize the poem. Whoever could recite it perfectly would receive five coins and a jade sugar candy.

The children’s enthusiasm for learning skyrocketed. After mastering the poem, they couldn’t help but chant it while playing games like soccer, sandbags, and hopscotch. Soon, the poem Ode to Yuan Yang Hotpot spread throughout the southern part of the city and even started reaching the northern and outer areas.

As a result, more young couples, drawn by the poem’s association with love, came to the restaurant to enjoy the hotpot. Their lips, bright red from the spice, seemed to perfectly reflect their affection for one another, creating a genuine “expression of love.”

Capitalizing on the newfound popularity, Qin Xia introduced a complementary drink called “Yuan Yang Drink,” which was simply fresh pomegranate juice—refreshing and perfect for cutting through the heat of the spicy broth.

…

It wasn’t just the customers at the restaurant who loved the drink; even the royal eunuch, Lord Yu Jiuque, became fond of it. The sweet and sour pomegranate juice helped ease his nausea during pregnancy and symbolized good fortune and fertility. Soon enough, the drink made its way to the palace, where it became a staple at the crown prince’s table. The drink, praised for stimulating the appetite, became part of the prince’s daily meals, ensuring that he ate more than usual.

The crown prince had taken a liking to the grand attendant, who always brought delightful new dishes and snacks to the palace. His cheerful demeanor and the sweet fragrances he carried with him were a refreshing change from the stern-faced tutors, making him a favorite of the young royal.

…

After more than half a month of diligent work, the Eastern Palace had finally uncovered all the scandalous deeds of the Changle Marquis’s household, piling them on Lord Yu’s desk. The evidence was sufficient to strip the marquis of another title. However, the new emperor, unlike his predecessor, preferred a more measured approach. While reducing the marquis’s rank, he spared his title but demoted his son, Xue Qi, to the status of a commoner.

This effectively ended the marquis’s lineage as nobility, ensuring that once he passed away, the title would not pass on to the next generation. The verdict on Xue Qi’s case overshadowed the fruit wine scandal, which the Southern District Court had hoped to quietly resolve. However, the Eastern Palace had other plans, insisting the matter be addressed publicly.

Qin Xia, along with the old wine master Zhao, brought their evidence to court, where the manager of Taiping Pavilion confessed that their fruit wine was sourced from merchants, specifically from Pingyuan County, and was not a private brew at all.

Qin Xia accepted compensation and demanded that Taiping Pavilion post a public notice acknowledging the false accusations against him. This cleared the cloud of suspicion around his fruit wine, as Taiping Pavilion went out of business while Heguang Pavillion thrived with full tables every day.

At this moment, Yu Jiuque shared another important piece of news: the maid, Ah jin, who had been rescued from the marquis’s household, might actually be the long-lost daughter of the chef, Gao Yang.