The young prince and his sister-in-w chatted idly. Perhaps because speaking was often difficult for him, Ying Qiongyu rarely had people to talk to.

  But now, with Wumian genuinely showing him kindness and not the slightest hint of disdain, he suddenly had a belly full of words he wanted to say.

  Their conversation went on and on until it was nearly noon.

  When Lu Zhong arrived, he looked rather surprised.

  “Greetings to Your Majesty the Empress, and the Twelfth Prince.”

  “You may rise. What brings you here?” Wumian asked.

  “Replying to Your Majesty,” Lu Zhong said, “His Majesty sent this servant to inquire what dishes and soups are being prepared in the small kitchen today. If there’s anything particurly good, he would like some sent to Taiji Pace. Duke An is dining with His Majesty today. The Duke is elderly and has little appetite tely.”

  Wumian nodded. “I see. Zhaohua, what’s on the menu in the small kitchen this afternoon?”

  “Replying to Your Majesty, aside from the regur dishes, there are a few stir-fries, steamed items, sweet pastries... Today’s soup is chicken broth, but that’s for the evening meal…”

  They didn’t serve multiple soups in a day, after all. And if they needed more, the Imperial Kitchen always had stock ready.

  “Very well,” Wumian nodded. “Tell the small kitchen to prepare something fresh. It’s hot today, and Duke An is elderly—he shouldn’t eat anything too greasy. Have them prepare four freshly cooked dishes—banced with both meat and vegetables—plus two additional vegetable dishes. Make a bowl of Eight-Treasure Tofu Stew, and a light fish and meatball soup. Be sure to use fresh fish paste, and make absolutely certain there are no bones. Use fish bones for the base stock—that simmers quickly. If everything goes smoothly, it can all be ready and sent over within half an hour.”

  “Your Majesty’s arrangements are perfect,” Lu Zhong said respectfully.

  “This will be enough from my side,” Wumian added. “Have the rest supplemented by the Imperial Kitchen. After all, His Majesty’s table surely won’t be this simple.”

  “Of course, of course. As long as Duke An has a few fresh dishes to enjoy, that’s more than enough. Shall I wait here?” Lu Zhong asked politely.

  “Wait, then. Jinbo, go serve Eunuch Lu some tea,” Wumian said.

  Jinbo acknowledged the command and invited Lu Zhong to rest. He didn’t dare put on airs before the Empress and quickly thanked her as he followed Jinbo out.

  As Wumian turned back around, she saw the Twelfth Prince looking at her with big eyes that clearly spelled out two words: “I want some.”

  She couldn’t help but ugh and told Zhaohua, “Have the kitchen prepare extra portions of everything. The Twelfth Prince and I will have the same for lunch.”

  Zhaohua responded with a smile. This Twelfth Prince really was delightfully transparent.

  As expected, Ying Qiongyu didn’t decline. He just said bashfully, “I… I was being greedy.”

  Well, it wasn’t just that. The dishes sounded so novel! He’d never even tasted something like that fishball soup before.

  His Majesty’s special treatment of Duke An was understandable. Asking the Empress to prepare dishes personally—it felt just like how a head of the household might invite a beloved retive to dinner and have his wife cook something special to entertain them.

  And indeed, Duke An was a remarkable figure. He was ninety-seven years old this year!

  He was still within the revered taibei age bracket, and only two years away from being called a bai shou elder—a centenarian with white hair. Yet his spirit remained vigorous. His hearing was sharp, his eyesight clear, and he still spoke in a booming voice.

  (Transtor Xiaobai: Taibei (鲐背) – This term refers to someone over 90 years old. Literally, it means "fish-striped back," alluding to the whitening of hair and age-reted changes. It’s a respectful way to describe someone who has lived into their 90s—a rare and honorable age. Baishou (白寿) – This term is used to describe someone who is 99 years old. The character 白 (bái, meaning "white") is derived from the character 百 (bǎi, meaning "hundred") with one stroke (representing the number "one") removed—symbolizing one short of a hundred. It's a poetic way of celebrating someone just on the cusp of becoming a centenarian.)

  He had once been a top schor (Tanhua Lang) during the reign of the Emperor’s great-grandfather, Emperor Xing. That had been the final imperial examination of Xing Emperor’s reign—an honorary special session—and this brilliant schor, born of humble roots, had seized first pce in that year’s examinations.

  He had also lived through the reign of Emperor Mao, Ying Qionglou’s grandfather, and the te emperor’s rule as well.

  But most importantly, he had once served as Crown Prince Tutor—first to the te emperor, and ter to Ying Qionglou himself during his years as the heir apparent.

  Of course, a crown prince would never have just one teacher, and Duke An wasn’t his only instructor.

  Still, this man was considered a living legend—not necessarily because of any grand achievements, but simply because he was still alive.In these times, surviving to such an old age was, in itself, extraordinary.

  Now in his ter years, Ying Qionglou made sure he was well taken care of, always hoping that he’d live a long and healthy life.

  If he could live past a hundred, he would officially be called a "Renrui" (人瑞)—a venerable centenarian and living symbol of divine favor and dynastic glory.

  In an era where lifespans were generally short, having such a figure in court would be a shining emblem of the dynasty’s prosperity.

  And Duke An certainly looked the part—he ate well, slept soundly, walked steadily, and lived like a cheerful old man enjoying retirement.It was, frankly, miraculous.

  However, the old man did carry one rather unfortunate rumor—that he brought bad luck to his wives.

  His first wife, whom he married before achieving academic success, died in childbirth—mother and child both lost.

  His second wife, the daughter of a mentor, passed away from illness within three years of marriage, without bearing any children.

  The third, the niece of a colleague, gave him three children during their ten years of marriage, but died shortly after.

  The fourth was a low-ranking widow who gave birth to two more children, only to die of illness as well.

  By then, he had truly lost the heart to marry again.

  But at age fifty, someone introduced yet another widow to him—and that had been quite the romantic tale at the time.He had truly liked her, even composing poems and verses in her honor. Five years into the marriage, she too fell ill and died.

  After losing five wives, even he was scared. From then on, he refused to marry again. There were still a few concubines in his household, but the one truly managing his affairs by now was his granddaughter-in-w—his eldest son’s wife had already passed away several years earlier.

  —

  Once Lu Zhong departed from Fengyi Pace, food boxes in tow, Wumian and Ying Qiongyu finally sat down to eat.

  The Twelfth Prince was just at the age of a growing appetite. He’d tried to be reserved at first, but the small kitchen’s dishes were undeniably better than anything sent from the imperial kitchens.

  Besides, even within the imperial kitchen, not all meals were equal. Not every prince received the same treatment.

  Even standard rations varied. And anything beyond the standard had to be paid for out of pocket.

  But where would he get the money for that?

  So when he tasted Wumian’s food, it felt almost like a revetion. Before he knew it, he’d eaten three bowls of polished white rice.

  “It’s fine,” Wumian said with amusement. “The bowls aren’t that big anyway. But if this is more than you usually eat, you might want to stop here.”There hadn’t been too much food, but since she didn’t know his usual intake, she didn’t want him to get sick from overeating.

  So the Twelfth Prince stopped reluctantly.

  —

  Over in Taiji Pace, Duke An didn’t care much for the fishball soup. But the lotus leaf–steamed chicken and the tofu stew? He was in love. He immediately began praising the Empress as a cook the heavens rarely saw and the earth scarcely produced.

  She’d truly made a name for herself with this meal. Ying Qionglou, pleased by how things had gone, saw Duke An off and rewarded the Empress with a pile of gifts.

  That afternoon, the Emperor personally came to Fengyi Pace.

  “You had Twelfth Brother stay for lunch?”

  “Yes,” Wumian replied. “He just left. I didn’t know His Majesty would be coming.”

  “You did well today,” he said.

  Wumian raised an eyebrow. “Ah? Should I now fall to my knees and thank His Majesty for the honor of his praise?”

  Ying Qionglou was momentarily stunned. In his mind, it was natural: if he praised someone, they should thank him. What was so strange about that?

  But the Empress had said it so righteously—like she’d caught him in a contradiction.

  He gave in and said with a hint of pyfulness, “There’s no need for that. You and I are husband and wife—thanking me for a few words of praise would feel far too distant.”

  Wumian blinked. “Your Majesty is wise.”

  Ying Qionglou chuckled, then reached out and gently tapped her cheek.