Inside the warm chamber, the underfloor heating kept the chill firmly shut outside the windows.
No incense had been added to the purple-bronze burner. The room was filled instead with the heat and rich meaty aromas rising from the food.
A dozen freshly cooked delicacies crowded the round huanghuali table, its surface carved with floral designs.
The sliced Zhenjiang cured pork was cut into neat, even pieces, while the fermented goose feet gleamed a rich red.
The roasted mutton sizzled with oil. In the center, the platter of freshly carved roast goose was even more enticing, its skin crisp and its meat tender, steam curling upward.
Xu Qinghuan lounged in her chair, having long since shed the grim, imposing air of an Imperial Envoy seated high on a dais.
She rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, grabbed a glistening goose leg with her bare hand, and bit into it heartily.
The crisp skin shattered. Grease mixed with rich meat juices spilled from the corner of her mouth.
She chewed a few times and swallowed, then immediately took another huge bite. Her table manners were, to put it mildly, remarkably uninhibited.
Qingque, sitting nearby, seemed about to say something, but in the end she held her tongue and turned to pour tea.
After devouring most of the goose leg, Xu Qinghuan wiped her mouth with a handkerchief. Her eyes fell on the platter of crystal-clear aspic.
She immediately picked up a piece of translucent meat jelly and popped it into her mouth.
The cool, silky texture touched her tongue. With a gentle bite, the rich meatiness burst forth alongside the faint fragrance of spices.
The sticky gelatinous texture and the springy morsels of meat blended together perfectly!
Her chewing stopped.
The next moment, Xu Qinghuan’s eyes widened, and she blurted out, “Holy crap! This is delicious! This is really delicious!”
The hand Xu Wuyou had raised with his wine cup froze in midair, and the corner of his eye twitched twice.
He looked at his utterly unladylike sister, then shook his head with an indulgent, helpless smile.
Xu Zhan watched his sister wolf down the food and reluctantly tore off the remaining goose leg.
The oily leg was placed on the celadon plate before Xu Qinghuan.
“Slow down. If it’s not enough, there’s more in the kitchen.” Xu Zhan’s voice was filled with concern.
Xu Qinghuan stared at the goose leg in her dish and swallowed the meat she had chewed.
“It’s been so long since I’ve eaten anything like this.” She sighed.
“Ah! Life at the northern frontier is harsh. Even an official can’t get much good food out there!”
As she looked at this tableful of exquisite dishes from an age of peace and prosperity, an almost unreal, desolate sadness welled up inside her.
Xu Wuyou was extraordinarily perceptive when it came to reading people’s expressions.
In the brief moment his little sister had paused, he sensed that something was wrong.
He set down his wine cup, picked up the nearby pot of warmed huangjiu, poured out a cup of steaming hot wine, and pushed it toward Xu Qinghuan.
Then Xu Wuyou took a clean pair of long chopsticks and drew a plate of fermented fish toward himself.
With meticulous care, he opened the skin and flesh along the fish’s belly, removing the fine bones one by one, following the grain of the meat.
Only after confirming that not a single bone remained did he lift the entire piece of tender white fish and place it in Xu Qinghuan’s bowl.
“You’re home now. From here on out, you can have this every day,” Xu Wuyou said gently.
Watching this scene, the knot in Xu Zhan’s heart tightened.
He seized the iron cup in front of him and poured half a bowl of strong liquor straight down his throat.
The fiery drink hit his stomach. He slammed the iron cup onto the table.
“Damn it!”
Xu Zhan’s thick brows drew together. “What the hell were those sour-faced scholars in red and purple robes thinking outside Zhengyang Gate today? They actually put an eight-bearer, gold-threaded ceremonial sedan chair right in front of us to welcome us.”
His gaze turned to Xu Qinghuan, and he ground out through clenched teeth, “Little sister, if you hadn’t reacted so quickly today and seen through the trap those bastards in the Ministry of Rites had set—if you hadn’t knelt in the snow on the spot and refused the honor—”
“Then by tomorrow morning, the censors of the Censorate would have torn the Xu family apart with their memorials!”
Xu Zhan’s fists clenched with a harsh creak.
He had no fear of open combat on the battlefield. But this underhanded method of slowly cutting someone apart with a soft knife left him feeling utterly stifled.
Xu Qinghuan set down her chopsticks. After rinsing her hands in the copper basin Qingque held out, she took a hot towel and carefully wiped each finger clean.
She picked up the cup of warm huangjiu.
“Second Brother, cursing the Ministry of Rites is pointless.”
“Lu Zhengyuan is only a minor official carrying out orders. Even if you gave him ten times the courage, he wouldn’t dare take an eight-bearer sedan chair reserved for the imperial household and use it to intercept us outside Zhengyang Gate.”
Xu Qinghuan blew away the steam rising from the wine and took a sip before continuing.
“That priceless pearl crown for a First-Rank Lady of Imperial Appointment, weighing more than a thousand jin, and the hereditary Marquis of Pacifying the North you’ve just received—that was bait personally cast out by the old emperor.”
Xu Zhan froze. “His Majesty? We just secured the northern defenses for him at Zhenbei Pass!”
“Exactly because we secured the north. The great victory at Zhenbei Pass has greatly bolstered the morale of the armies stationed along the nine frontiers.”
“The old emperor needs to reward us handsomely to soothe the hearts of the hundreds of thousands of soldiers guarding the border. He can’t afford to earn a reputation for being stingy and ungrateful.”
“He has to reward us.”
A trace of mockery flashed through Xu Qinghuan’s eyes as she continued, “But he’s also afraid that the Xu family will end up with two marquises in one household, their achievements so great that they threaten the throne.”
“On the surface, this is a lavish reward that makes us look as prosperous as oil boiling over a blazing fire. Beneath it, he’s placing the Xu family atop a brazier in the full view of the realm, letting us roast in the flames.”
“If we had actually sat in that sedan chair today, the charge of arrogance and violating court protocol would have fallen into the hands of the Censorate and the Grand Secretariat. The censors’ impeachment memorials could have crushed His Majesty’s desk. His scheme to use this cup of wine to strip us of our military power would have succeeded.”
Xu Wuyou nodded.
“Little sister sees through things clearly. The atmosphere at court has already shifted during the days you were away from the capital.”
Xu Wuyou’s gaze swept over the faces of the two younger siblings-in-law, his expression grave.
“The Xu family may appear to be favored ministers of the Son of Heaven in the capital, basking in prosperity.”
“But in truth, from the Grand Secretariat and the Six Ministries to the deeply entrenched aristocratic clans, the entire court already sees us as its prime target—as a thorn in its flesh.”
“If Father makes even the slightest misstep in Jiangnan, the Xu family in the capital will be doomed beyond hope.”
After hearing this, Xu Zhan snorted heavily through his nose, a ferocious look crossing his face.
“What’s there to be afraid of? When soldiers come, we’ll meet them with generals; when water comes, we’ll block it with earth!”
“Whoever dares scheme behind our backs and stir up trouble, the black-iron mace in my hand won’t care what official robes he’s wearing!”
“Once I catch him, I’ll smash that rotten scholar’s skull to pieces! At worst, I’ll go back to the northern frontier and fight the barbarians again!”
“Second Brother, put away that soldier’s way of thinking.”
“You can’t go back. The capital is an iron cage.”
Xu Qinghuan extended a finger and tapped lightly on the tabletop twice.
The tapping made Xu Zhan’s anger falter.
“The danger in the capital has never come from blades and armies. Smash the skulls of one or two people with your iron mace, and you’ll bring down an execution order on the entire Xu family.”
“You haven’t even had time to warm the seal of your Third-Rank General Zhaoyong, and it can already become a noose around your neck.”
Every word from Xu Qinghuan struck at the heart.
“The knives here are held in the tips of the clerks’ brushes and in the murderous accusations of the censors. To kill without shedding blood—that is how one survives in office in the capital.”
Xu Zhan grunted sullenly and said no more, lowering his head to tear off the last piece of goose meat and stuff it into his mouth.
Xu Qinghuan picked up her chopsticks again and placed a piece of translucent cured pork into her mouth.
The meat was rich, savory, and delicious. She chewed it slowly, her gaze growing distant.
“Jiangnan is a fine place,” she suddenly remarked. “Jiangnan is a fine place indeed!”
After swallowing the cured pork, Xu Qinghuan let out a cold laugh.
“Our good emperor refuses, first, to eliminate redundant officials, and second, to reduce the expenses of the imperial palace. Yet he insists on setting his sights on Jiangnan.”
“Father is taking the Son of Heaven’s Sword with him. He’s acting as the emperor’s villain. Which of those great clans doesn’t have former students and protégés holding office at court? By confiscating their estates, Father is cutting off the roots of those courtly purists!”
This analysis made a thoughtful glint flash through Xu Wuyou’s eyes. He knew that this clever little sister of his must already be plotting some masterstroke to break through their predicament.
Xu Wuyou did not press her. He merely raised the wine cup in his hand.
“No matter what happens, we all made it home safe and sound today. Whatever troubles come, Big Brother will face them first. Come!”
Xu Zhan bared his teeth in a grin and grabbed his iron cup.
Xu Qinghuan also lifted her wine cup.
The three cups met lightly in midair.
The mellow rice wine slid down their throats, its warmth spreading straight through their limbs and organs, driving away the chill accumulated over days of travel.
Once they had eaten and drunk their fill, Qingque, ever perceptive, brought over a bowl of thick hawthorn-and-snow-pear soup and placed it carefully beside Xu Qinghuan.
“Miss, have some to settle your stomach.”
Xu Qinghuan picked up the porcelain bowl. Without bothering with a spoon, she tipped back her head and drained it in one go.
The sweet-and-sour juice flowed down her throat, sweeping away every trace of grease in her stomach.
She set down the bowl and let out a loud burp without the slightest embarrassment.
Now that was satisfying!
She had truly experienced the best of Chinese cuisine.
She rose and stretched languidly.
Then she took several steps to the brocade couch by the window, went limp, and flopped onto it once again, entirely without regard for her dignity.
She buried her face in the soft embroidered pillow.
Watching his sister sprawled across the couch, Xu Wuyou sighed and offered a reminder.
“Little Sister, rest if you must, but there’s something you need to make plans for first.”
Xu Qinghuan lazily turned her head, revealing only one eye as she looked at him.
“In three days, the palace will hold the Heavenly Grace Banquet.”
“The old emperor has issued an oral decree. He intends to personally congratulate the two of you on your achievements at the Hall of Heavenly Mandate.”
“All the officials will be there, and every prince will be in attendance. How are we going to deal with this banquet at Hongmen?”
The room fell silent at once.
On the couch, Xu Qinghuan slowly rolled onto her back and gazed up at the carved ceiling.
She closed her eyes, the corners of her lips curling into a smile.
She waved a hand casually through the air, her manner carrying a hint of reckless confidence.
“When water comes, we’ll build a dam!”
“When food comes, we’ll fill our bellies!”
