Chapter 15: Home-style Tofu (Part Fifteen)
By all reasoning, Jing Yi should have been deeply worried and anxious.
Unfortunately, Leng Yue didn’t give him that chance.
The moment Ji Qiu finished speaking, Leng Yue strode briskly through the door.
In her hand, she clutched a sword without its sheath, her hair disheveled and her clothes mud-stained. From head to toe, even the tip of her sword, everything was dripping with water, as if she had rolled around on a riverbank, accidentally tumbled into the river, and only just crawled out.
It looked… no, it clearly seemed like something had happened.
Under Jing Yi’s stunned gaze, Leng Yue tossed the unsheathed sword onto the table with a loud clatter, wiped the rainwater from her face with her hand, flicked it off, grabbed the teapot from the table, and gulped down several mouthfuls of leftover tea. Only then did she calmly say to Ji Qiu, who was frozen in shock, “I want to take a bath.”
Given the sheer force with which she had thrown the gleaming sword onto the table, even if she had said this to the Crown Prince, he would have scurried off to heat bathwater for her without hesitation.
Let alone Ji Qiu, a timid and delicate maid.
“Y-yes, I’ll go prepare it right away!”
Only after Ji Qiu hurriedly retreated did Jing Yi snap out of his daze.
“What happened to you…”
Before Jing Yi could finish his question, Leng Yue answered straightforwardly, “I got into a fight.”
Jing Yi wanted to cry, but couldn’t.
Old folks often say that a girl changes endlessly as she grows up. Leng Yue had indeed changed in many ways over the years, but some things remained constant—one of them was her penchant for fighting.
Judging by her current state, it seemed to have been a particularly intense brawl.
Jing Yi didn’t want to know who she had fought or why she had started the fight. He simply pulled her chilled, drenched body into his embrace and carefully scanned her from head to toe. “Are you hurt?”
“No…”
Jing Yi’s embrace was warm, and Leng Yue shamelessly pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in the crook of his neck. She nuzzled against him a couple of times and let out a long, drawn-out yawn.
Heaven only knew how many women in the capital would grit their teeth and curse her for squandering such a treasure if they saw Leng Yue treating Jing Yi like a personal heater.
She couldn’t care less.
And Jing Yi cared even less.
Leng Yue’s body was wet and cold, making it uncomfortable to hold, but Jing Yi didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in closer, adjusting his posture to let her snuggle more comfortably.
If she wanted to use him as her personal heater for the rest of her life, he would be more than happy to oblige.
Leng Yue, like a tired kitten, nestled softly in his arms and lazily added a few more words, “I only used the sword sheath. When the sheath broke, I started scratching. Nothing serious…”
Jing Yi had intended to quietly act as her heater for a while, but he couldn’t hold back.
“…Scratching?”
Jing Yi’s life had little to do with the martial world, but he still had some basic knowledge of it. When martial artists fought, their techniques varied widely, but scratching was rarely one of them.
Unless…
Jing Yi gently stroked Leng Yue’s damp back. “Was the one you fought a cat or a woman?”
“My second sister.”
He had guessed right…
Leng Yue’s second sister, Leng Yan, the captain of the Crown Prince Manor’s guards, could kill someone with a glare, let alone with scratching.
Among all the siblings in the Leng family, Leng Yue and Leng Yan had fought the most frequently since childhood—so often that Jing Yi no longer bothered to ask why.The reason might be a rabbit, or perhaps a shoe—anyway, it was something ordinary people wouldn’t understand, so asking was pointless.
Jing Yi lowered his head slightly and pressed a light kiss to Leng Yue’s still-dripping hair, sighing from the depths of his heart. "You’ve worked hard in the fight, my lady."
"Mmm…" Leng Yue hummed with a soft nasal tone, nestling even closer into Jing Yi’s embrace as if all her strength had drained away. Her voice grew softer, almost ethereal. "When you see my second sister later, pay her no mind. She’s insane…"
Jing Yi had been hearing this for over a decade.
"Alright."
Leng Yue fell silent for a long while. It wasn’t until Ji Qiu brought people in to deliver bathwater that Jing Yi realized she had already fallen asleep in his arms.
She could even fall asleep standing up…
Jing Yi smiled wryly to himself. Why did sisters fight with such ferocity?
Dawn was still some time away, so Jing Yi carried her to the bed, intending to change her soaked clothes. As he removed her outer robe and shook off the water, a paper ball, nearly dissolved into pulp, tumbled out from her clothing.
Jing Yi picked it up casually and glanced at it unintentionally. Amid the blurred, sodden paper, one character that hadn’t completely dissolved was faintly visible.
Jing.
Jing Yi frowned.
The paper seemed to have been covered in writing, all smeared and ruined by the rain. A common character like Jing mixed in among them didn’t seem particularly noteworthy.
However, on their wedding day, Leng Yan happened to be out of the capital and hadn’t come to offer congratulations.
Thinking back on it now, Jing Yi felt a faint unease.
As Jing Yi stared distractedly at the paper ball, Leng Yue turned over in bed, murmuring softly and smacking her lips silently, her face the picture of serene peace.
Jing Yi found himself somewhat amusing.
After spending half a year in a place like the Dali Temple, he hadn’t learned much else, but he’d certainly developed the official’s habit of suspecting everything.
The thing that had made him most uncertain in life had vanished into thin air after he and Leng Yue bowed three times in public. Even if the sky were to fall, what did he have left to fear?
By the time Leng Yue woke, the rain outside had cleared, leaving a pristine blue sky. Pure morning light streamed through the window, filling the room with a bright, tranquil glow.
Leng Yue realized she seemed to be lying face down on the bed…
And beneath her was…
Another person.
Jing Yi.
He was looking up at her with innocent eyes, enduring her weight with resignation.
"Good morning, my lady."
Leng Yue was a bit dazed. Hadn’t she been hugging, clutching, pressing, and kicking… the quilt?
Clearly not. The quilt was lying obediently on the floor, evidently kicked down by someone.
Leng Yue scrambled up, pressing down the slightly long sleeves before realizing she was wearing a man’s white robe.
She and Leng Yan had spent the night fighting and cursing in the pouring rain. By the time she returned, she was so exhausted she could barely lift her eyelids. She only remembered burrowing into Jing Yi’s warm embrace and dozing off as she nestled there. After that…
Leng Yue tugged at the front of the oversized white robe she was wearing and looked down at Jing Yi, who lay on his back, smiling with contentment. "What’s the meaning of this?"
Jing Yi narrowed his eyes slightly, the corners of his lips curling upward as he smiled like a gentleman. "One must change clothes after bathing. I noticed the fabric of your undergarments isn’t very comfortable, so it’s better to sleep in mine, isn’t it?"Leng Yue clutched the extremely comfortable lapels of her garment and felt like going mad.
She didn’t remember taking a bath before falling asleep, which meant…
Her face flushed hot, and she sprang from the bed in an instant. Grabbing a random set of clothes from the wardrobe, she darted behind the screen, hastily tied up her hair, threw on the clothes in a flash, then rushed out, snatched the unsheathed sword from the table, and flew out the door like the wind.
Leng Yue was dressed in dark blue, but Jing Yi distinctly saw a bright red figure flitting away.
His wife…
Was she… shy?
Leng Yue raced across rooftops for several streets, her face still as red as hawthorn jelly. She ducked into a secluded alley, crouched by the corner, and began tracing circles on the ground with her sword hilt—one, then another, and another…
How could she have slept so soundly?
How could his movements have been so gentle?
She truly had no face left to show anyone…
It wasn’t until an elderly woman, hobbling past, cast a pitying glance at the circles she had drawn and tossed two copper coins into them that Leng Yue realized if she stayed crouched there any longer, she would lose face in front of more than just Jing Yi.
As soon as Leng Yue stood up, her eyes fell upon the signboard of the shop directly opposite the alley entrance, and she nearly burst out laughing.
On the grimy signboard, three large characters were neatly inscribed: Qingxiang Lou.
Below the sign, steamers of steamed buns were stacked four or five layers high at the shop entrance. Wisps of white steam squeezed through the gaps in the bamboo baskets, bubbling upward, and even from the alley, she could catch the rich aroma of meat buns.
No matter how flustered she was, Leng Yue clearly remembered Zhang Lao Wu saying that his home was in the lane right next to Qingxiang Lou, and that his grandson Zhang Chong loved Qingxiang Lou’s buns best.
Wasn’t this what they called “success without lifting a finger”?
Her spirits lifted, the blush on her face vanishing instantly. She straightened her clothes, smoothed her hair, and strode confidently out of the alley, heading straight into Qingxiang Lou. But before the shop attendant could even greet her, Leng Yue spotted the person seated at the central table inside. Her steps faltered, and she nearly tripped over the doorstep.
“Whoa! Customer, watch your step!”
The attendant scurried over, swinging a grease-stained towel. Leng Yue didn’t spare him a single glance, but he still bowed apologetically. “Customer, my apologies, but the shop has been reserved. You’ll have to wait until this young master finishes his meal before you can enter…”
Leng Yue stared blankly ahead.
Behind the grimy, worn-out table sat the “young master” the attendant had mentioned. Dressed in immaculate white robes, he sat upright, holding a black ceramic bowl with a chipped rim in one hand and a spoon in the other, bringing a mouthful of steaming tofu pudding to his lips.
If it wasn’t Jing Yi, who else could it be?
Seeing Leng Yue standing at the entrance, Jing Yi quickly shook his head at the attendant. “Step aside, step aside… This is my wife.”
“Oh! Madam, my apologies, my apologies… Please come in, Madam!”
Leng Yue stood frozen at the doorway, not moving an inch. “You… What are you doing here?”
Jing Yi swallowed the spoonful of tofu pudding with relish, pursed his lips, then gave Leng Yue an obedient smile. “Waiting for you.”She had arranged to meet Zhang Lao Wu early in the morning. Even if she didn't know where Qingxiang Restaurant was, she would definitely find it by asking for directions along the way. It didn't surprise Leng Yue that Jing Yi had anticipated her coming to Qingxiang Restaurant, but what puzzled her was...
Feeling somewhat guilty, Leng Yue's cheeks flushed involuntarily. "Why were you waiting for me?"
Jing Yi took another spoonful of tofu pudding. "You haven't eaten breakfast... and you didn't bring any money."
Leng Yue froze, instinctively reaching for her waist.
She had practically fled from her bedroom—how could she have remembered to bring money...
Money.
Yes, it was about money.
Watching as Leng Yue's crimson face suddenly turned stern, Jing Yi was taken aback. He silently set down his bowl of tofu pudding, stared at the sword Leng Yue had abruptly tightened her grip on, and said calmly, "Well... my lady, I actually came specifically to bring you money."
As if she hadn't heard Jing Yi's words, Leng Yue turned and walked out. Before she had taken two steps, she seemed to remember something, turned back, reached for a large meat bun from the plate on the table, took a bite, and mumbled a reminder to Jing Yi.
"You pay..."
With that, she slipped out the door and vanished in the blink of an eye.
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