Yummy Yummy Yummy

Shen's Shop Tavern in the East Market.

A Taoist priest in a tattered robe sat at a table near the entrance, with a plate of fried Orchid Beans, a jug of wine, a cup, and a pair of bamboo chopsticks before him. Beside him on the ground lay a banner proclaiming "Miraculous Elixirs," a handbell, and a grimy cloth bag. Temples and shrines were everywhere in Chang'an, and wandering priests like this—carrying banners and selling dubious remedies—were too numerous to count. No one paid him any mind.

Qiao Hai raised his cup and took a sip of wine, then picked up a fried Orchid Bean and popped it into his mouth. Hmm, quite fragrant.

On the round stage ahead, two performers were telling a story about a scholar who finally passed the imperial examinations after many years of failure. His opportunistic relatives and friends, who had once scorned him, now groveled before him—a comical reversal. Qiao Hai laughed along with the other patrons.

Amid the lively bustle of the tavern, nibbling on snacks and sipping weak wine, Qiao Hai felt a momentary daze. If he and his senior brother had never caught the eye of Zhao Wang, would this have been the life they led?

Two years ago, when his senior brother lay critically ill, he had reminisced about their days together—digging wild vegetables in the mountains and catching fish in the river—as if with deep nostalgia. Qiao Hai thought his senior brother had every right to such sentiment. After all, he had once stood beside the late emperor, his words capable of shifting the tides of court politics. When he walked the streets, even nobles and high officials made way for him. Apart from failing to secure the throne for Zhao Wang, his life could be considered without regret.

As for himself... Qiao Hai glanced around Shen's Shop Tavern. He truly hadn’t foreseen that fate would tie him to such a place. If they succeeded, and the prince ascended the throne, he would naturally be rewarded with high office and wealth, basking in glory. If they failed... Qiao Hai took another sip of wine. At his age, it wouldn’t be an untimely death.

His thoughts turned to Zhao Wang’s fourth son, Li Yu, and he couldn’t help but frown...

A young man dressed in fine clothes entered, followed by several burly servants.

The manager hurried forward to greet him.

As the young master made his way upstairs, he said with a smile, "On the day of the Cauldron Blessing Banquet, reserve a large private room for me. Though I’m not a scholar of this year’s examination cohort, my friends and I would still like to witness such a grand occasion."

The manager replied with a smile, "Then please choose a room today, Young Master. There aren’t many left—six have already been reserved, and only three remain."

The young master frowned, glancing—whether intentionally or not—at the figure in the tattered robe. "So many people?"

"Young Master, how could it be otherwise? Who wouldn’t want to see such an event? When the names are inscribed on the long silk scroll..." The manager accompanied the young master upstairs.

Qiao Hai took another sip of wine. Three rooms... that would suffice. Such matters always relied on the element of surprise. Even if the emperor came in disguise, he wouldn’t bring many guards.

At the entrance, the young mistress of Shen's Shop entered alongside the young master from the Shao family’s Flower Cake shop.

As they passed by, Qiao Hai overheard Young Master Shao say with a laugh, "I’ve checked the ledgers. With luck, you might be able to buy a villa by the Wei River next year."

The young mistress giggled. "The cattail shoots by the Wei River are excellent. When the time comes, we’ll pick the freshest ones to make Milk Soup with Cattail Shoots..."

Qiao Hai smiled faintly.

Time flew as the various parties schemed and planned, and at last, the day of the Cauldron Blessing Banquet arrived.

True to expectations, many scholars came, and the tavern was packed with curious onlookers. The people of Chang'an had always been fond of such refined spectacles.Manager Qin personally attended to the ink and brush. The scholars, filled with ambition, inscribed their names on the long silk scroll hanging outside the tavern wall. Under the manager's blessings and the crowd's gaze, they stepped inside.

At the auspicious hour, Manager Qin delivered a brief opening speech before handing the stage over to the scholar pre-selected by his peers for his talent and virtue. While his moral character remained uncertain, his literary prowess was undeniable. He began with a narrative, then transitioned into poetic recitation, each word sparkling like pearls, radiant and eloquent. Meanwhile, the tavern owners—Young Lady Shen and Young Master Shao—stood at the periphery, smiling with narrowed eyes as they observed.

Qiao Hai sat in a corner spot by the railing on the second floor. After scanning the private rooms and surveying the scholars, diners, staff, and his own men in the main hall, he fixed his gaze on the entrance—the person he awaited had yet to appear.

Qiao Hai's heart felt as though it were suspended by a single strand of hair, swaying precariously. Would the emperor come? And could they strike him down here in the tavern?

Even if they failed to kill him here, Qiao Hai consoled himself, there were still the Uighur ambushers near the carriage market and his own men stationed at the palace gates. Narrowing his eyes, he thought: Since the emperor has left the palace, he shall not return alive!

After waiting another half-hour, as the scholars were nearly finished introducing their origins, names, and ages, the curtain was lifted—it was Imperial Guard Commander Qin Xiang! He bowed slightly, making way for the figure beside him, who wore a hooded cloak, revealing only a pair of striking eyes.

Yes, yes... it was him! Qiao Hai had seen the emperor twice before—his appearance was notably handsome, especially those eyes.

Qiao Hai exchanged a glance with his men and gave a slight nod. The invisible tension in the tavern stretched to its limit.

One of the emperor's attendants approached a table near the second-floor staircase, politely asking the seated guest to switch places. The obliging guest complied, yielding the spot.

The emperor sat down, his back now the only part visible from Qiao Hai's angle. Imperial Guards were stationed on both floors, with a few inspecting the private rooms. The emperor gestured to the seat opposite him, and after some modest refusal, Qin Xiang finally took it. Clearly, the emperor's favor toward Qin Xiang was no mere rumor.

Observing the emperor and Qin Xiang, Qiao Hai wasn't concerned about the private rooms—his men there were well-disguised and wouldn't raise suspicion unless closely interrogated.

A waiter presented the menu. The emperor flipped through it, and faintly, his order could be heard: milky soup hot pot, lamb, fish tofu, and the like. The waiter bowed and retreated downstairs.

Perhaps wary of his previous exposure, the emperor never removed his hooded cloak.

Downstairs, the scholars had taken their seats, awaiting the banquet's commencement as the amusement troupe took the stage.

"Those attending today's Cauldron Blessing Banquet are all future pillars of the court," one performer declared.

Another jested, "I'm quite heavy myself—almost as much as a millstone," patting his waist for emphasis.

"...What I meant was, you're all cauldron ministers."

Another hesitated before quipping, "Ah, I suppose I'm more like this milky soup..."

The hall erupted in laughter—even the emperor joined in.

Now was the moment! Qiao Hai raised his hand.

A long dart shot toward the emperor—only to be deflected midair by an arrow from the rafters.

Qiao Hai's heart lurched.

In an instant, his men hidden on both floors sprang into action, and assassins burst from the private rooms. Yet more "diners" drew blades, some forming a protective circle around the emperor while others clashed with Qiao Hai's forces.Previously, the private rooms that Qiao Hai had scouted—reserved by others, housing guests young and old, rich or noble—burst forth with even more people, trapping Qiao Hai's men inside. Among them, a "young lady" wielded a swift and fierce longsword, while a scholar with a consumptive appearance threw punches as powerful as a tiger's roar.

How could Qiao Hai not realize it now? He had walked into an ambush!

Earlier, a man dressed as a foreign merchant, seated not far from the emperor, shouted at the panicked crowd, "Capture the rebels! All bystanders, crouch down and stay out of the way!"

The ordinary diners, who had been in disarray moments ago, now obeyed as if hearing divine instruction, crouching and hiding under tables, against walls, or behind counters.

The emperor stood silently, while Qin Xiang shielded him, standing ready alongside numerous guards.

Seeing his side clearly at a disadvantage, Qiao Hai knew there was no victory to be had here today. In such battles, strategy was key—his opponents had anticipated his moves, placing expert archers in the rafters and hiding several times his numbers in both private rooms and open seating. They had used the terrain to their advantage, timing their attack to trap his men in the rooms like "catching turtles in a jar." With everything aligned against him—timing, terrain, and morale—how could he not lose?

Qiao Hai glared at the "foreign merchant," wondering which court general had outmaneuvered him. The "merchant" met his gaze and signaled, prompting several men to close in on Qiao Hai.

"Lord Qiao, head for the window!" His loyal followers fought desperately to protect him.

But how could he escape?

Soon, an enemy blade rested against his neck. A quick glance confirmed that barely one in ten of his men remained standing.

Within moments, the tavern fell silent, the chaos settled.

The commander tore off his fake beard and eyebrows, revealing strikingly refined features. Though still clad in foreign-style fur clothing and a foreign hat, Qiao Hai recognized him instantly—it was none other than Lin Yan, the Deputy Chief of the Capital Prefecture!

Qiao Hai gave a bitter smile. So, he had followed in Zheng Er's footsteps after all...

Lin Yan stepped forward and bowed to the "emperor." "My apologies for alarming Your Highness."

"Spare the formalities, Lord Lin," came the reply. "It's been a while since I've had this much fun."

Qiao Hai's eyes widened slightly. Of course—since this was a trap, why would the emperor take such a risk? Naturally, it was a decoy.

And the one who would speak so flippantly could only be the unruly Prince of Heyang.

The prince's lips curled slightly, and when silent, he carried an air of dignified grace. Among the imperial clan and nobility in the capital, he was a singular figure—for his status, as the emperor's only surviving brother; for his temperament, notorious for his scandalous ways, keeping a retinue of male favorites, the most favored rumored to be a Sesame Flatbread vendor, prompting jokes in the capital: "Bear a daughter, she may become a consort; bear a son, he may rival her"; and for his relationship with the emperor—despite censors' memorials piling three feet high denouncing him, the prince remained untroubled.

Despite his "eccentricities," the Prince of Heyang held scholars like Lin Yan in high regard—some men were not to be trifled with. And this one, the prince mused inwardly, if anything were to happen between them, he’d likely be the one on the bottom... Best leave such a man for his elder brother to employ in court.

An attendant beside Lin Yan handed a water flask to the prince, who frowned and splashed some chicken blood onto his chest. Glancing mischievously at Qin Xiang, he wiped a streak across the man's face for good measure.Qin Xiang smiled helplessly and allowed him to wipe it on, saying, "This servant will support Your Highness."

Having witnessed a beautifully executed ambush, Qin Xiang smiled at Lin Yan and said, "We leave this place to Lord Lin's care."

Lin Yan nodded solemnly and bowed respectfully to see them off.

Qin Xiang had never liked these court ministers, especially those from aristocratic families, who exuded an innate arrogance. In their eyes, people like him, no matter how high their rank or power, probably didn't even count as dirt. But now, his impression of this Lord Lin had somewhat changed. While he was undoubtedly proud, there was also humanity in him—compassion and reliability.

The battle had just ended, and everyone was still shaken. The man suspected to be the Emperor had already left, clutching his chest and accompanied by his Imperial Guards.

Watching the retreating figure of the Prince of Heyang, Qiao Hai closed his eyes in despair. The Hu tribesmen who had ambushed them midway were likely doomed, as were the men he had stationed within the palace to carry out the final assassination should the Emperor survive and return. The enemy had anticipated everything. He could only hope that Fourth Brother would escape.

Lin Yan walked over slowly and asked with a smile, "Lord Qiao, the junior brother of the Great Virtue Pure and Subtle Supporting Origin Perfected Person?"

Qiao Hai's eyes widened.