Ch 108: Guide to Feeding a Villainous Husband

The news of the crown prince going out in disguise and spending half a day in the southern city was known only to his close attendants and Qin Xia, with no one else the wiser. The street vendors from that day only remembered serving a young boy, fair as a golden child, who bought inexpensive things but always paid a few extra copper coins.

Yu Jiuque, who had accompanied the prince, earned himself an additional day of rest. At home, he joined Madam Xu and Qiu Yao in sewing, learning to embroider patterns on baby belly bands.

For babies, belly bands often feature the “Five Poisons”—toads, scorpions, centipedes, and other creatures—believed to ward off disasters and evil. Such designs were suitable for children of any gender.

Yu Jiuque started by practicing on a small embroidery frame, using scrap cloth. Little Qiu Yao sat at the kang table nearby, helping to trace the embroidery patterns. Madam Xu sorted through a basket of embroidery threads, picking out the suitable colors.

By Yu Jiuque’s calculation, the baby would likely be born at the end of winter or early in the twelfth lunar month. After a few stitches, he couldn’t help but touch his belly. Sure enough, the baby kicked again.

Madam Xu helped him adjust his posture, smiling, “Seems like a lively little monkey.”

With his lower back resting on a soft cushion, Yu Jiuque finally felt some relief from the ache. “I think so too. It’s only been a few months, and already, the baby won’t let me have any peace. But being lively is good—it shows strength and health.”

Madam Xu handed him a cup of honey water to soothe his throat. “Indeed, nothing is more important than the child being healthy and safe.”

After alternating between embroidery and rest several times, Yu Jiuque’s eyes began to tire, and Madam Xu wouldn’t let him continue.

“Pregnancy is hard on the eyes, and it’s difficult to recover if you strain them.”

Not pushing himself further, Yu Jiuque had lunch, shuffled back to the bedroom in his soft shoes, and took another nap.

When he woke, the servants who had gone with Qin Xia returned, saying that Qin Xia had visited both the sugar mill and the distillery and might return late.

Yu Jiuque ordered the kitchen to prepare dinner early.

Da Fu, carrying a small ball, approached, inviting him to play. Yu Jiuque stroked the goose’s head and took the ball. “I’ve been lying down for too long, and my bones are getting lazy. Let’s go outside and pass some time.”

Da Fu, understanding, quacked twice and tugged at Yu Jiuque’s clothes, urging him to come outside.

“You little rascal,” Yu Jiuque chuckled, slowly rising and leading the goose outside. He sat in the corridor, tossing the ball for Da Fu to fetch, and back and forth they played, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the capital, Qin Xia was at the sugar mill reviewing the records, noting the current production levels. The mill was producing two types of sugar: brown sugar and white sugar.

A two-pound bag of cane sugar could sell for one tael of silver in Dayong—something the average household rarely saw, let alone tasted. However, the sugar made from beets, once the cost was calculated, could be sold at half the price of cane sugar. The same was true for brown sugar.

Even at market prices, for someone like Qin Xia, who was already in the candy business, producing both types of sugar would only increase his profits.

But with great wealth comes great risk. If this business were run by anyone else, they’d have to consider whether they had the capability to handle such riches.

The first batch of sugar, set to be used as raw material, would soon be packed into boxes and sent to Qinan.

After leaving the sugar mill, Qin Xia headed to the distillery.

Compared to fruit wine, the brewing process for white lotus wine wasn’t as smooth. However, the latest batch, if aged for at least another year, should barely meet Qin Xia’s expectations.

White lotus wine contains not only white lotus but also over a dozen traditional Chinese herbs, including danggui, shudi, huangqi, and heshouwu. When Qin Xia came across this recipe in modern books, it was noted as imperial wine, and the various herbs were collectively referred to as “medicinal ingredients.”

While its authenticity has been debated by later generations, the recipe has been passed down, serving both as a medicinal wine and a fine drink.

Ancient texts claim that white lotus wine is as exquisite as jade nectar, with health benefits to boot. Though literary descriptions of wine often tend to exaggerate, Qin Xia gave Zhao Laodie ample time, hoping that this renowned wine from another era could be revived in Dayong.

Zhao Laodie noticed that Qin Xia wasn’t fully satisfied, so he offered to continue experimenting with the brew. Unlike fruit wine, white lotus wine requires more than just a few months of aging, but Zhao Laodie was patient. He had been a servant for most of his life, and as long as he could reclaim his contract before he passed, he could rest in peace.

Upon returning home, Qin Xia brought Yu Jiuque a package of candy. It was made at the estate using their stove, combining filtered ginger juice, glutinous rice flour, and brown sugar to create soft ginger candy. The ginger and brown sugar combination was meant to replenish blood and warm the body. For added texture, the candy was coated with a layer of crushed sesame seeds.

“Here’s a new snack for you. If you like it, I’ll make more,” Qin Xia said.

When the paper package was opened, a faint ginger aroma wafted out, but when eaten, the sweetness of the brown sugar dominated. Especially since Yu Jiuque always preferred soft candy to rock candy.

He chewed a piece and then offered one to Qin Xia as well. A moment later, they shared a gentle kiss, their lips lingering with the warm sweetness.

“Starting tomorrow, I’ll take this with me to work,” Yu Jiuque said after they parted, patting his pouch with a slight raise of his brow.

No child liked the taste of ginger, so after tomorrow, the little crown prince probably wouldn’t ask him for candy for some time.

…

In August, the street fashions of Shengjing shifted with the season, and recently it had become trendy to admire chrysanthemums and eat crab. The palace’s greenhouse cultivated rare varieties of chrysanthemums from all over the world, and many trusted officials were rewarded with them.

The chrysanthemum bestowed upon Yu Jiuque was named Green Cloud. The petals were a soft green, like the tender buds of willows in spring. From the center, the petals extended outward, drooping slightly and gently curling, resembling the graceful swirls of a beauty’s skirt.

As a businessman, Qin Xia had to keep up with trends. The heat of summer was now a thing of the past, and Heguang Pavilion’s yuan yang hotpot had started to lose its popularity. It was temporarily set aside to make way for the newly introduced chrysanthemum hotpot.

Qin Xia had someone purchase some ordinary but attractive chrysanthemum plants to decorate various areas of the restaurant. Upon entering, patrons were greeted by the subtle fragrance of chrysanthemums in the air.

They also prepared edible chrysanthemums to use in the hotpot.

The chrysanthemum hotpot doesn’t use the large Tai Chi-style copper pot but instead uses small copper pots, just a bit larger than the size of a hand, about the same size as modern individual rotating hotpots. Each table, depending on the number of diners, has several small pots.

Underneath, there’s a small stove with charcoal fire, and diners can choose to cook the food themselves or ask a waiter for assistance.

When it comes to eating chrysanthemum hotpot, there’s a special method. Qin Xia tried a few variations before settling on this light yet flavorful approach.

The soup base is made with pork rib broth, not chicken, duck, or fish, nor the overly rich broth made from pork bones. Achieving a clear and light pork rib broth is no easy task, but it results in a taste that’s distinct from the other broths without being greasy.

If diners call on the waiter for assistance, they’ll see the following scene:

The waiter uses a delicate silver poker to adjust the charcoal. Once the fire is strong and the broth starts boiling, they begin adding ingredients.

The set ingredients for chrysanthemum hotpot include both meat and vegetables. The meat includes fish slices, river shrimp, beef rolls, and pork tripe—all quick-cooking items that won’t cloud the broth. Adding something like duck feet would make the broth too thick and murky.

The vegetables include vermicelli, baby greens, and oil tofu skin. The oil tofu skin is the thin, delicate layer that forms on top of heated soy milk, thin as a cicada’s wing and exceptionally tender. Only a few tofu shops in the entire southern city can make this, and their daily production mostly supplies Heguang Pavilion.

The cooking process is as follows: first, the meat is added, followed by the vegetables. After everything is in, the pot is covered, and the timing is carefully monitored.

When the time is right, the lid is removed, and a plate of washed, fresh chrysanthemum petals is scattered into the pot. As the petals are added, their fragrance fills the air, and the dish is ready to eat.

Unlike the yuan yang hotpot, the chrysanthemum hotpot doesn’t come with dipping sauces. Instead, the food is eaten along with the broth.

This new dish quickly became popular in Shengjing. A large painting hung on the wooden board outside depicts a pot with floating fish slices, shrimp, and chrysanthemum petals, along with a description of its health benefits, which include: “Soothes the lungs and eases autumn dryness.”

Every table that dined at the restaurant would order one.

The accompanying drink, which used to be the pomegranate-based yuan yang drink, was now replaced by a warm roselle and hawthorn tea, beloved by women and ge’ers. For those who still preferred cold beverages, a chilled cucumber-pear juice was also available.

The people of Dayong had never tasted juice made from cucumbers, and at first, everyone was hesitant to try it. However, after taking a sip, they all realized—it was delicious.

The refreshing taste of cucumber, paired with the mild sweetness of pear, outshone all the other drinks available on the market. Some people even brought their own jugs from home, paid the copper coins, and filled them up to enjoy later.

There’s a modern theory that says it takes just 21 days to form a habit. For the residents of Shengjing, it had been almost four times “21 days” since Heguang Pavilion opened, and they had indeed developed the habit of visiting the restaurant for a meal, whether there was a reason or not.

Other restaurants and eateries in Shengjing all had their signature dishes, often proudly advertising where their chefs hailed from. This city attracted people from all corners of the land, each with their own preferences for the flavors of home.

But Heguang Pavilion was different.

Everyone knew that Qin Xia and Gao Yang, the two head chefs, were originally from Pingyuan Prefecture. Yet, leaving aside Gao Yang, Qin Xia could cook dishes from all over, whether from the north or the south. He even introduced many innovative dishes that left seasoned travelers, who thought they’d seen it all, completely astonished and full of admiration.

…

Meanwhile, in the palace, the Emperor was also enjoying chrysanthemum hotpot.

With the onset of autumn, he had developed a persistent cough and had been drinking bitter medicinal soups all day, losing his appetite. That was until Yu Jiuque presented him with the chrysanthemum hotpot recipe Qin Xia had created, which was then slightly modified by the imperial kitchen to suit the Emperor’s tastes. Finally, a smile returned to his face.

After a few meals, even his cough began to improve.

The Emperor grew fond of this dish, changing the ingredients he dipped into the broth daily and eating it for several days without getting tired of it.

When the Mid-Autumn Palace Banquet approached, he ordered that every guest be served their own chrysanthemum hotpot.

“In past palace banquets, there were many grand dishes, but most were only meant to look good. By the time they were served, they were cold, and people hardly touched them with their chopsticks. Even when I was just a prince, I thought such extravagance was a bad habit. This year, let’s switch to hotpots instead. The charcoal we use in the palace is high-quality, smokeless, so there shouldn’t be any issues.”

Yu Jiuque praised the Emperor’s wisdom and quickly began making arrangements. At the same time, he requested permission to take leave on the day of the banquet.

There were many valid reasons he could have used—his current condition made it difficult for him to endure an entire banquet.

However, before he could even finish his sentence, the Emperor granted the request without hesitation.

“I promised you I’d allow you and Qin Xia to be reunited. Last year, you two were separated during Mid-Autumn, and given your current status, it will likely be difficult for you to leave the palace on such occasions in the future. But this year, since you are expecting, I’ll grant you this favor.”

“On the fifteenth, you may return to your home for the celebration.”

The Emperor’s words were like music to Yu Jiuque’s ears.