Chapter 92: Spicy Pot (Part 18)
Leng Yue had been comfortably eating and drinking in the living room for a full two hours before the Crown Princess finally returned with Xiao Zhao Ye, who was already dizzy and numb from the cold. Perhaps fearing that his overly polite sister-in-law might drag him out into the freezing snow again for some other activity, Xiao Zhao Ye didn’t even bother to bid farewell to the Crown Prince, who was holed up in the bedroom meticulously feigning illness, and instead took his leave with Leng Yue.
On the journey back, Leng Yue shared a carriage with Xiao Zhao Ye. The well-appointed carriage was warmed by a charcoal brazier, making it as cozy as spring. Leng Yue watched as Xiao Zhao Ye’s complexion shifted from pale and ashen to flushed red, followed by a series of sneezes and a runny nose that he couldn’t control, no matter how much he pretended to look up at the carriage roof or gaze out the window. Finally, Leng Yue couldn’t hold back her concern and said, “Your Highness, there’s no need to hold back. Catching a cold and having a runny nose is only human. If you need to sniffle or blow your nose, just do it. Even if I turned this into an opera and performed it, no one would be interested in hearing about it.”
Xiao Zhao Ye’s fever-flushed cheeks instantly darkened. He raised a finely crafted handkerchief to cover his nose and mouth before replying in a heavily nasal voice, “I haven’t had the chance to ask… which opera troupe do you belong to, and what should I call you?”
Leng Yue was momentarily taken aback by the question. In that brief moment of confusion, she suddenly recalled something Hua Mei had once said to her in a mix of jest and complaint during a casual conversation before her death. Leaning back slowly against the carriage wall, she flashed a radiant smile and replied unhurriedly, “I’m from An Wang’s residence. You can call me Leng Yue.”
Xiao Zhao Ye was momentarily dazzled by her bright, fiery smile. After a brief pause, he softened his expression, trying to sound as gentle as possible despite the discomfort of his nearly overflowing runny nose. “There’s no need for you to hide the truth. When I have some free time in the future, I’ll definitely bring people to support your performances… With your natural talent, it would be a shame if you didn’t achieve fame and recognition.”
Leng Yue’s eyelashes fluttered, and her smile grew even more radiant. Her beautiful eyes seemed to say, “On behalf of my entire family, I thank you,” but her tone remained nonchalant as she replied, “I’m telling you the truth.”
A man of Xiao Zhao Ye’s status had undoubtedly encountered such situations many times before, though usually the women in these scenarios would gaze at him with welcoming eyes and urge him to “behave with propriety.” It was all the same, really.
So, Xiao Zhao Ye narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at her for a moment with an expression of mutual understanding, as if acknowledging a kindred spirit. He nodded knowingly, then redirected his attention to the far more elusive issue of his runny nose. Not another word passed between them until the carriage stopped at the entrance of the residence where Jing Yi was under house arrest. With a mere glance, Xiao Zhao Ye dismissed her from the carriage and hurriedly drove off in a cloud of dust.
Uncle Qi, seeing her step out of Xiao Zhao Ye’s carriage, immediately welcomed her inside with a cordial tone. His smile was so warm and friendly that it seemed as though the person who had been swindled out of a thousand taels of silver earlier that morning had nothing to do with him.
“You’ve arrived so early, Miss… Have you had lunch yet? There’s some ready-made chicken soup in the kitchen. Shall I have someone bring you a bowl to warm you up?”
Leng Yue responded with equal politeness and a smile. “No need for the soup.”
“There’s no need to stand on ceremony, Miss…”
Leng Yue’s smile grew even more courteous. “I’ll just have the meat.”
“…”
And so, Jing Yi, who had been curled up in bed asleep all morning, was ultimately roused by the rich, savory aroma of meat.Jing Yi followed the aroma in a daze and saw Leng Yue sitting by the table, happily gnawing on a whole chicken from the soup pot.
Having slept soundly all morning, Jing Yi still felt heavy-headed and unsteady, but at least he could crawl out of bed on his own. Wrapping himself in the quilt like a cylindrical zongzi, he hopped over to the table.
He sat down on the stool right next to Leng Yue, huddled in the quilt, and stared straight at the soup pot. "Why did you come back again...?"
Leng Yue made a vague sound of acknowledgment. After sucking the last bit of meat off the bone and tossing it aside, she picked up an empty bowl nearby. While calmly ladling soup at a leisurely pace, she said with composure, "I couldn’t quite understand what your Old Master said."
This was within Jing Yi’s expectations. Interpreting the Imperial intention was a risky matter that could easily bring trouble—how would his shrewd father, cunning as if reincarnated from a fox spirit, spell it out plainly to her?
"What exactly did he say?"
"He told me, 'Eat when it’s time to eat, drink when it’s time to drink, and don’t neglect serious matters...'" Leng Yue said leisurely, handing a bowl of clear broth to Jing Yi. "After starving for too long, one shouldn’t eat immediately. So now is the time for you to drink soup. Just drink up."
Jing Yi glanced down at the bowl of utterly clear broth—not even a scallion in sight—and replied weakly, "Actually... you can just listen to what he says. No need to take it too seriously..."
"Hmm..." Leng Yue responded, tearing off a piece of meat and stuffing it into her mouth. Chewing fiercely, she murmured gloomily, "I didn’t take it seriously when I first heard it... but when I asked him properly later, he told me he’d already explained it to me."
Only then did Jing Yi understand why he was limited to just drinking soup.
"Wait..." Jing Yi silently cursed his father for setting him up, on the verge of tears, "Did he only say that to you?"
"There’s more."
Leng Yue swallowed the food in her mouth and recounted how Master Jing had used empathy to make her understand why ancestral offerings could be eaten. The more she spoke, the more aggrieved she felt, while Jing Yi grew increasingly calm—so calm that Leng Yue didn’t even want to give him another sip of soup. Unable to hold back, she finally asked, "Do you understand?"
Jing Yi took a few sips of soup before nodding.
"Actually, his meaning is quite clear..." When Leng Yue shot him a dark glare, Jing Yi stiffened and doubled his speaking speed. "He just wants you to put yourself in others’ shoes."
Leng Yue was taken aback, her expression softening slightly. "Put myself in others’ shoes?"
"The Late Emperor was human too, and a father to many children..." Jing Yi shrank deeper into the quilt, whispering with a bitter smile, "Tell me, what would a father want to discuss when he gathers all his children around as he’s nearing his end?"
This hint was a hundred times clearer than Master Jing’s roundabout words. The moment Jing Yi finished speaking, Leng Yue blurted out in astonishment, "His final affairs?!"
Jing Yi nodded gently, his gaze involuntarily drifting down to Leng Yue’s abdomen.Old Master's timely advice had come at just the right moment. Had it been before, he might not have grasped it so quickly. Putting oneself in another's shoes sounded simple in theory, but only those who had been fathers themselves could truly understand what preoccupied a father's mind at any given moment.
Just like after Leng Yue left, in that hazy state between wakefulness and sleep, his thoughts had been entirely consumed by that little one whose gender remained unknown. From learning to speak and walk to establishing a career and starting a family, every possible worry and corresponding solution had raced through his mind, unstoppable as a tidal wave.
He had only known of this little creature's existence for a single day, yet already he was so preoccupied—how much more must it have been for the Late Emperor, who had watched his children grow inch by inch over more than a decade?
Leng Yue seemed completely unaware of the sudden tenderness in the eyes of this person bundled up like a zongzi. After a moment of stunned silence, a realization dawned on her, deepening her bewilderment. She furrowed her brows and asked in a low voice, "Do you know about Spirit Focusing Powder?"
Jing Yi's attention was still lingering on her abdomen, and before he could react, Leng Yue had already lost patience. She directly produced that grimy paper packet from her clothing.
"It's a drug that doubles physical exertion and makes one instantly alert," Leng Yue added, seeing Jing Yi's still-confused expression. "Just like how the Late Emperor was before his passing."
Only then did Jing Yi properly startle. He reached out from under the quilt, took the packet, and brought it to his nose for a gentle sniff. Then he frowned, carefully unfolded the packet layer by layer, and spread it out on the table. He even dipped a finger into the rice-flour-like powder.
Watching Jing Yi, who seemed genuinely intrigued by the drug, Leng Yue asked, "You know about how your second brother was sent home by the Late Emperor to learn cooking, right?"
Jing Yi narrowed his eyes slightly, examining the powder on his fingertrip, and nodded.
"This drug was given to me on the street by the imperial physician who replaced your second brother. Your second brother said that, to this day, only that physician could concoct this formula... But according to my second sister, he should already be brewing medicine for the King of Hell by now."
After a brief moment of shock, Jing Yi managed a strained smile, silently brushed the powder from his finger, and sighed as if to himself, "So Old Master guessed right after all..."
"Why?"
Jing Yi retreated back under the quilt and gestured with his stubbled chin toward the powder. "Because this drug... The Late Emperor was also crowned Crown Prince from a young age. He knew all the usual dirty tricks that happen during the transition between old and new emperors. Old Master once told me that when the Late Emperor first ascended the throne, it was because his father passed away in a confused state without making things clear, leading to all sorts of factions causing chaos. The court was in turmoil for years before it settled down. He was afraid of repeating that mistake and leaving trouble for the Crown Prince, so he chose the right moment to take this drug, ensuring he could clearly and lucidly relay his final wishes."
Leng Yue detected something more in Jing Yi's words. "What moment did he choose?"
Jing Yi gave a faint, bitter smile. "If I remember correctly... that day was probably the anniversary of the Late Empress's death."
Leng Yue stared in shock, her eyes widening as she nearly leaped from her stool. "You mean the Late Emperor had planned all along to die on that day?"Jing Yi lowered his gaze to the packet of medicinal powder. "Lying helplessly in bed with such a severe illness, even with attendants caring for you, is hardly comfortable. If not for enduring until that day, given the Late Emperor's strong-willed temperament, he would likely have ended his own life long before becoming bedridden... His seemingly arbitrary excuse to send my second brother home and transfer the imperial physician who prepared this medicine to his side, while arranging an escape route for that physician—wasn't this all preparation to die on that specific day?"
After speaking, Jing Yi let out a soft sigh with a faint, bitter smile, as if murmuring to himself. "Perhaps heaven showed mercy, not wasting the Late Emperor's carefully laid intentions..."
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