As autumn faded into winter, after several drizzling rains, the palace servants switched from single-layered garments to padded ones.
In Weiyang Palace, Jiang Yunshu’s greatest indulgence shifted from courtyard barbecues to hotpot in the warm room. The sound of pattering rain mingled with the bubbling of the hotpot broth, and Jiang Yunshu sighed contentedly, "Ah… truly the most delightful sound of winter."
Xie Lin cast her a sidelong glance. "And what of the music I play?"
Jiang Yunshu immediately replied, "Your Excellency’s zither music is unparalleled in the world. But since the start of winter, this humble one has not had the honor of hearing it."
Xie Lin let out a cold snort. When she was apologizing or asking for a favor, she suddenly remembered to call herself "this humble one," but the rest of the time, she threw around "you" and "I" without a care.
If he were the type to take offense, would her tongue still be in her mouth?
She promptly picked up the communal chopsticks and dipped a slice of beef, thin as cicada wings, into the hotpot in front of him, then carefully placed it in his bowl.
Hmph. Now she remembered to serve him. On ordinary days, if he showed her even a hint of kindness, she’d spout nonsense like, "Hotpot tastes best when you cook it yourself."
Xie Lin watched as Jiang Yunshu cooked nearly an entire plate of beef for him. When only a small portion remained, she stole a glance at him. Seeing no reaction, she reluctantly dipped the rest into his pot, her face a picture of heartache.
Xie Lin couldn’t fathom how someone could be as foolish as Jiang Yunshu—trying to curry favor while making it obvious she begrudged him even half a plate of beef.
What on earth had she been eating in the Marquis of Xiping’s Mansion? A mere plate of beef shouldn’t be treated like some rare delicacy.
Xie Lin had no particular fondness for beef, but watching Jiang Yunshu’s longing expression as she went without made the meat taste especially delicious today.
He had little interest in food and couldn’t understand why someone like Jiang Yunshu radiated joy from head to toe just from eating something tasty. To him, beef was just beef—whether the chef sliced it paper-thin or not made no difference.
The only thing worth mentioning was the dipping sauce Jiang Yunshu prepared. It made everything taste better.
Xie Lin rolled the tender beef slices in the sauce, coating both sides thoroughly before eating them.
By the time he finished the entire plate, served entirely by Jiang Yunshu, he leisurely returned to his study.
He couldn’t comprehend why Jiang Yunshu was so foolish. Beef was her favorite, not his. Yet when she was apologizing, she unhesitatingly gave him all of it, even though he would’ve been fine eating something else.
Unaware of the faint smile tugging at his lips—not a sneer or a smirk, but a genuine, almost imperceptible curl of amusement—Xie Lin thought to himself, Jiang Yunshu probably wouldn’t dare order another plate of beef now…
She might even avoid sharing hotpot with him for the next few days.
She’d stubbornly hold back until she was sure he’d forgotten the incident, then make up for it by devouring beef to her heart’s content.
After seeing Xie Lin off, Jiang Yunshu noticed his dipping sauce bowl was empty and twitched her lips. Xie Lin really had a bottomless appetite for sauce—he’d polished off the entire bowl.
Ever since their first shared hotpot meal, where Jiang Yunshu had mixed the sauce for him, Xie Lin had taken a liking to it and insisted she prepare it for him every time.
Lichun had even come to ask Jiang Yunshu for her secret recipe.
Jiang Yunshu refused to share it.
Lichun’s eyes lit up with sudden understanding. "Don’t misunderstand, my lady. I won’t pry further."
Jiang Yunshu glared. "You’re too young to be this sly!"
For someone who looked like a child, Lichun had the cunning of a seasoned courtier.
"That look on your face—you think I’m keeping this trick up my sleeve to win favor, don’t you?"
Lichun blinked. "Isn’t that the case?"
Jiang Yunshu scoffed. "Of course not!"
Lichun pressed, "Then tell me?"
Jiang Yunshu hesitated. "...No."
She wasn’t deliberately hiding it. Her "secret recipe" was just… inconvenient to explain.
It was two things: a dash of garlic juice, and a lethal amount of sugar.
But everyone in Weiyang Palace believed Xie Lin never touched garlic, onions, or ginger. Lichun had even warned her about Xie Lin’s dietary restrictions.
At first, Jiang Yunshu followed the rules strictly—until Xie Lin snatched the first bowl of sauce she’d mixed, which contained garlic juice, and ate it with evident satisfaction.
The next time she prepared his sauce, she deliberately left out the garlic, only for Xie Lin to frown and remark, "It’s missing something from last time."
Jiang Yunshu: "......"
Sir, do you not realize the "missing something" is the garlic flavor you "never touch"?
As for the sugar overdose, Jiang Yunshu didn’t dare teach that to Lichun either.
Xie Lin had an undeniable sweet tooth—if they were in the modern era, he’d definitely order full-sugar bubble tea—yet he never let it show.
If this were exposed, Xie Lin might stop eating his beloved sweet sauce altogether… and might even get angry!
So this "secret recipe" was best kept to herself.
Lately, Xie Lin had been dining with Jiang Yunshu more often than before.
During meals, he frequently asked about her plans for the "Yun Residence."
The Yun Residence—originally half of the Marquis of Xiping’s Mansion, where Concubine Qiao now lived—had expanded several times over after relocating the western residential area.
Though no plaque hung at its gates, people needed a name to refer to it.
At first, Xie Lin casually suggested "Jiang Residence," but Jiang Yunshu frowned. She disliked the idea.
Though her surname was Jiang, it wasn’t by her choice. If she could, she’d rather not share a name with the Marquis of Xiping.
Xie Lin raised a brow. "Would you prefer 'Qiao Residence'?"
"No!" Jiang Yunshu quickly denied, noticing the shift in his expression.
Clearly, Xie Lin saw her, not Concubine Qiao, as the mistress of the estate.
His mood softened at her refusal.
After a moment’s thought, Jiang Yunshu ventured, "How about 'Yun Residence'?"
Xie Lin gave a slight nod, and from then on, that was what they—and the palace servants—called it.
Jiang Yunshu only learned about the expansion much later, by which time the western residences had already been cleared and new walls enclosed an area several times larger.
She was stunned.
Why expand?
After splitting the Marquis of Xiping’s Mansion in two, the eastern half housed the old madam, the marquis, his wife, all the concubines, and their children…
The western half had only Concubine Qiao, her maids, and a white cat!
Wasn’t that already spacious enough?
Xie Lin never explained his reasoning, and Jiang Yunshu didn’t dare press for answers.
Perhaps, she mused, he was just bored and needed something to do.
After all, every time Xie Lin discussed with her where to dig lakes or design landscapes in the Yun Residence, he was brimming with enthusiasm, as if playing with an oversized set of Lego.
Concubine Qiao’s courtyard was tucked away in a corner of the Yun Residence, so the renovations hardly disturbed her.
By now, Concubine Qiao had fully recovered her health.
Though she remained too thin and frail, these were matters for gradual recuperation—no further need for imperial physicians.
All the royal doctors stationed at the Yun Residence had been withdrawn, returning to the palace to attend to Consort Wu—
She carried the sole imperial heir, the next emperor, and as the twelfth month began, her delivery drew near.
