Fragrant and Sweet
In the private room, a faint fragrance lingered, and the fresh wine carried a light aroma. Lu Wei scooped a few spoonfuls of broth from the lamb offal stew with a small porcelain cup, soaked some torn soft flatbread, and handed it to the obedient three-year-old child sitting beside him. Although the stew ingredients had been meticulously prepared by Yu Jinnian, leaving almost no foul smell, lamb inherently retained a bit of gaminess. The child sat nestled between his parents, holding the bowl with one hand and a spoon with the other, carefully eating the softened flatbread, looking very well-behaved.
This child’s nickname was Ah Xi. He was as delightful as his name implied. Now fully recovered from illness, his complexion was rosy and adorable.
Lu Wei, a man with military origins, lacked refined habits. Having endured the blood and storms of the borderlands, he naturally disliked tea and favored alcohol instead, caring little about the quality of the wine as long as it was smooth and pleasant to drink. Yu Jinnian prepared a pot of fresh spring wine for him. Though not aged, it was mellow and sweet, satisfying his drinking habit without overwhelming the child with the smell of alcohol.
After taking a sip of wine and tasting some steamed lamb, General Lu’s eyes lit up, and he nodded, saying, “It’s been ages since I’ve had such good *zhan zheng*! I remember the last time I ate it was at San Tang Pass. I had barely taken my first bite when the sound of enemy attacks rang out… What a pity! I never got to finish that *zhan zheng* afterward.”
His wife teased him, saying, “You’re bringing up old stories again, my lord. Aren’t you showing your age?”
Yu Jinnian happened to be returning from the kitchen and, hearing praise for his cooking, naturally felt delighted. He quickly brought out another serving of *zhan zheng* and a dish of freshly stir-fried minced meat with eggplant. Just as he was about to express his thanks, someone at the table beat him to it: “If the General likes it, have more. Do come often.”
The appetite Lu Wei had carefully cultivated was knocked back into his stomach. He sighed wearily and finally raised his eyes to the man sitting across the table, saying, “Young Lord Ji, this is my family banquet today. Why, then, are you here?” He then turned to Yu Jinnian and said, “Mr. Yu, don’t trouble yourself running back and forth. Sit down and talk.”
When Lu Wei entered earlier, Yu Jinnian had led him upstairs. Ji Hong, somehow catching wind of the event, arrived uninvited, insisting on joining this birthday feast. Yu Jinnian suspected he intended to improve relations with Lu Wei and had jokingly called him a “dog nose” while serving dishes. He figured Ji Hong had his own considerations and chose not to interfere. He simply played the role of a helper.
Unfortunately, the host of the banquet showed no gratitude for Ji Hong’s presence, seemingly wanting him to leave as soon as possible. Yu Jinnian smiled, set down the last plate of *honeycomb cake*, and glanced at Ji Hong.
Ji Hong remained unfazed and waved to him, saying, “Since the General insists, Jinnian, don’t busy yourself.”
“…Coming,” Yu Jinnian handed the unused dishes to a server and, accepting the situation, sat down. There were still a few empty seats—one next to General Lu and another beside Ji Hong. After some thought, he quietly sat next to Ji Hong, shifting the wooden stool slightly away from the man. He didn’t serve himself food, only sipping from a bowl of clear stew.
The meal was awkward. Lu Wei and Ji Hong both seemed to have something to say but were reluctant to speak first. Lu Wei, having little else to discuss, kept thanking Yu Jinnian for saving Ah Xi and even made the boy bow in gratitude. Yu Jinnian hurriedly stopped him, coughing lightly and using new chopsticks to pick up some freshly steamed *honeycomb cake*, coaxing the obedient child: “It’s a doctor’s duty to heal. Such grand gestures will shorten my life. Here, Ah Xi, have this. It’s hot, fragrant, and sweet!”
The *honeycomb cake* was made from a batter of egg-sugar water mixed into a dough, poured into a tray lined with gauze, and smoothed evenly. It was topped with raisins and thin slices of golden fruit before being steamed. The steam rising from below would form delicate air pockets within the batter, fluffing it up into a honeycomb-like texture, hence its name.
Golden, soft, and easy to digest, the cake was a favorite among children. In no time, Ah Xi finished a small plate. Though he craved more, his strict upbringing prevented him from asking, so he could only gaze longingly at Yu Jinnian. Yu Jinnian smiled, glanced toward the door, and exchanged a subtle signal with the clever child. Under the table, Ah Xi tugged at Lu Wei’s coat and softly said, “Father, Father, Ah Xi needs to relieve himself…”
Despite his affection, Lu Wei was still a straightforward man. He looked down at the boy and said, “Go by yourself, don’t wander off.” Lady Lu started to rise, but Lu Wei stopped her. “He’s old enough now; he can’t always be coddled. Let him go alone.”
Lady Lu had no choice but to sit back down, still looking worriedly at her son.
Ah Xi quickly jumped off the too-tall stool, his short legs wobbling as he ran outside. Yu Jinnian stood and said, “I’ll take Ah Xi.” Then, glancing at Ji Hong, he winked as if to say, *Now’s your chance to talk.* He and the child left hand in hand.
He led Ah Xi to the backyard, found a warm little room, and brought a small piece of *honeycomb cake* along with pre-washed mulberries. Setting up a private little snack for the boy, he also provided a small, custom-made fork. Ah Xi gleefully forked the cake into his mouth, his cheeks puffing like a little hamster as his feet dangled happily under the table.
Yu Jinnian rested his chin in his hands, watching him and eating mulberries while gently reminding him to eat slowly.
Since the cake was filling, Yu Jinnian instructed the kitchen to prepare a digestion-aiding herbal tea. About a quarter-hour later, on his way back with the tea, he heard someone in the front hall calling, “Brother Xiao Nian!” He responded loudly, and soon Min Mao emerged from a connecting door.
Seeing who it was, Yu Jinnian realized he had come to mooch a meal. Without waiting for him to ask, Yu Jinnian told the kitchen to bring out some dishes.
By the time he returned to the small room, Ah Xi had finished the cake and was slumped over the table, sleepy. Yu Jinnian coaxed him awake, managing to get him to drink a little of the tea before sending word to Lady Lu. Then, carrying the boy in his arms, he let him nap quietly.
Min Mao entered behind him and snickered. “When did you have a child? He’s so big already!”
“Nonsense. Can you have kids?” Yu Jinnian shot him a glare. “This is General Lu’s son.”
Min Mao sat down, grinning as he watched Yu Jinnian handle the child skillfully. He couldn’t resist teasing again, “If you really had one, you’d spoil the kid rotten.” When the server brought out his food, he immediately grabbed his chopsticks and dug in.
“Get lost!” Yu Jinnian scolded. “What’s wrong? Did your brother starve you? You eat like you haven’t seen food in years. Be careful not to choke.”
“Mm… He? He’s always running off to the palace. Who knows where he is today? He doesn’t care about me,” Min Mao complained after swallowing a bite of steamed bun.
Yu Jinnian thought for a moment and tentatively asked, “I heard he’s pleading for a eunuch’s case.”
Min Mao slammed the table, nodding. “Isn’t it obvious? Everyone’s saying he’s part of the eunuch faction now. My father’s furious. I don’t understand what he’s up to. He used to hate that *Lian Zhi* guy, and now he’s defending him. Did someone cast a spell on him?”
After complaining, he suddenly looked up in horror. “Wait a minute—if even a cook like you has heard about it, then it’s probably all over town! My family really is part of the eunuch faction now…”
“I only heard rumors,” Yu Jinnian muttered. “Besides, it might not be true.”
“What do you mean?” Min Mao asked, chewing on a chicken bone.
Yu Jinnian replied, “If your brother can join the eunuch faction, then that eunuch can join the Min faction too.” Then, silently, he thought to himself: *Maybe if your brother tries hard enough, he’ll win you a second sister-in-law.* But he didn’t dare say that part aloud since no one knew how things would turn out yet.
Min Mao pressed his palms together with the chopsticks clasped between them and mockingly bowed to Yu Jinnian. “Little Bodhisattva, may your words come true and save my family!” He dropped his hands and craned his neck, looking outside with interest. “Hey, has Third Brother Ji come? I got a new fan and want him to write something on it.”
Yu Jinnian immediately recalled the time Min Mao had wanted Ji Hong to write an *Ode to Scallion Pancakes* and shivered down his spine. Before Min Mao could pull out the fan, he shot back, “Even if he’s here, he won’t write for you. Give up on it!”
Min Mao: “…”
The two bantered for a while until noise came from upstairs, followed by Lady Lu’s voice calling for Ah Xi. Yu Jinnian quickly carried the sleeping boy out and handed him over at the base of the stairs to Lady Lu. Seeing this, General Lu couldn’t help but mutter, “Kids are always mischievous,” but his gaze still followed his son’s sleeping face with an unmistakable fatherly smile.
Yu Jinnian walked them to their carriage. Lu Wei took a flat wooden box from a servant, handed it to him, and said, “For your kindness, sir. Last time, I never got to pay for your medical services when my son fell ill. Today, we’ve also enjoyed a feast at your expense. Please take this as compensation.”
Yu Jinnian had long forgotten about the consultation fee, especially after Ji Hong had butted into today’s banquet. He was about to decline when Ji Hong suddenly appeared out of nowhere, accepted the wooden box for him, and lightly scolded, “Why haven’t you thanked General Lu yet?”
Snapping out of his thoughts, Yu Jinnian quickly bowed his head in gratitude. Lu Wei shot Ji Hong a long, meaningful glance and said, “This is for the doctor. Young Lord, don’t go taking someone else’s reward.” With that, he boarded the carriage and departed.
After they left, Yu Jinnian opened the box on his way back and found a feather with a silver tip inside. Turning it over, he found no other valuables and couldn’t help but ask curiously, “What is this?”
Ji Hong replied, “It’s a *Swift Feather* from the Suiyuan Army.”
Yu Jinnian knew of the Suiyuan Army but still didn’t understand the significance of the feather. Ji Hong pulled him upstairs, sat him down, and gently kneaded his shoulder as he explained, “Back then, the Suiyuan Army fought across the northwest front, a vast battlefield with numerous commands. Orders were categorized by urgency. The first level was marked with red ink—general correspondence to be handled at discretion. The second level was sealed with fire lacquer, delivered urgently by fast riders. The third level, the most critical, was marked with a green feather like this one, symbolizing an emergency of the utmost priority—a matter of life and death for the army.”
“Because it signified the most urgent situations, people began calling it the *Swift Feather*. After the northwest was pacified, the *Swift Feather* was no longer used for military orders but became a symbol of the Lu family’s Suiyuan Army.” Ji Hong paused, noticing the boy in his arms let out a small hum, his face turning red as he tried to wriggle away. Without hesitation, Ji Hong pulled him back and held him firmly in his arms.
“By giving you this *Swift Feather*, General Lu is granting you a favor. If you ever need help, take this feather to any Suiyuan soldier, and they’ll assist you with all their might.”
Yu Jinnian was astonished by the significance of the feather. But then, as a small physician and cook, he couldn’t imagine a situation where he’d need help from such a powerful general. While he pondered this, a sharp pinch to his waist startled him into letting out a small gasp.
Though it was summer, Ji Hong’s body emanated a gentle warmth, while Yu Jinnian, always running like a little furnace, had already shed several layers of clothing, leaving only two thin silk robes. Ji Hong’s calloused hand rubbed against his skin, turning it red almost instantly. The teasing touch left Yu Jinnian’s neck weak as his breath came out in soft puffs.
If he didn’t escape now, it would get improper. Yet, before he could slip away, Ji Hong’s long, elegant hand encircled his waist, flipping him onto the small divan inside the room. Ji Hong leaned over and pressed a deep kiss to his lips, teasing his tongue with deliberate slowness.
Yu Jinnian had long grown accustomed to Ji Hong’s presence, and before long, his legs weakened, his lips parted, and he let the man do as he pleased. He had no desire to fight back.
After what felt like forever, Ji Hong finally released him, pressing his forehead against Yu Jinnian’s and calling softly, “Jinnian.” Underneath him, the boy lay dazed, his collar half-open, the red knot on his clothes coming loose. He instinctively licked the corner of his lips, his breathing shallow and unsteady, with a faint smile playing on his face.
Ji Hong’s heart stirred as he nibbled at the boy’s delicate collarbone, murmuring, “My little lucky star.”
They continued their indecent behavior under the broad daylight, unaware that an unexpected visitor had arrived downstairs.
Min Xuefei wandered the streets in frustration, unable to shake the unease in his chest. Lost in thought, he arrived at *Jinyouting* only to be told that none of the masters were home. He then aimlessly wandered to *Sanyu Pavilion*. Inside, the hall was lively with chatter, food, and wine, but he had no appetite and waved off the server’s hospitality, heading upstairs in search of company.
Whether it was Ji Hong or that boy, he didn’t care—he just wanted someone to drink and chat with.
He checked each room until he reached the last one. Seeing the door shut tight, he stepped up and called, “Shuluan, are you…” The door wasn’t fully latched, and when he pushed lightly, it opened slightly. He hadn’t meant to look, but his gaze fell through the crack, and what he saw froze him in place. His voice choked, and he stumbled back three steps, his heart pounding like a drum.
Turning abruptly, he fled downstairs. Min Mao had just finished eating and came out to see his brother rushing down like he’d seen a ghost. He called, “Second Brother!” But Min Xuefei ignored him, sliding down the staircase and bolting out of *Sanyu Pavilion* as if on fire.
Min Mao: “…Weird. What’s he running from?”
Blending into the crowd, Min Xuefei realized his reaction had been too extreme. After all, he hadn’t seen anything particularly explicit—just a bare foot curled tightly on the edge of a table and a few staggered breaths. Yet his mind jumped to conclusions, and he found it impossible to believe that the man nibbling at the boy’s shoulder was the same frosty, aloof Ji Shuluan.
*This kind of thing truly messes with people.*
Min Xuefei slipped into a random tavern and ordered a pot of *Shaodaozi*. Even as he drank alone, he maintained the elegance of an aristocrat, pouring small cups one at a time, standing out among the rowdy drinkers. Unlike Yu Jinnian, he wasn’t a heavy drinker. Soon enough, the alcohol hit him, and as he closed his eyes to rest, his mind drifted back to that night.
The stars, the long street, the sound of horses.
In the swaying carriage, muffled whimpers were pressed from a delicate throat, stifled before they could fully escape, each sound cut short and incomplete. His vision lingered on a pale, slender neck, tipped back with the smoothness of honeyed silk. It looked so fragile, as if a light grip could snap it. He reached out, cradling the neck and tilting its owner’s face back toward him, seeking to claim the lips.
The face turned toward him—porcelain white, with a lower lip bitten tightly, and tear-streaked, reddened eyes. It was *Lian Zhi*.
Min Xuefei woke with a jolt, knocking over the cup of *Shaodaozi*. The ceramic shattered loudly on the ground. He sat up, shaken and exhausted. Ever since that night, he couldn’t forget the kiss in the carriage, nor those eyes full of guilt and confusion. They haunted him relentlessly.
At first, he thought the eunuch Lian Zhi was scheming, so he ordered an investigation. But no matter how deep they dug, nothing suspicious turned up. Instead, the name “Lian Zhi” replayed over and over in his mind, until he could recall it vividly even with his eyes closed.
Min Xuefei assumed it was just a matter of age and unresolved desire. He turned to art books for distraction, but it only made things worse. In his dreams, the faces in the illustrations all turned into *that* face. Eventually, he avoided sleep altogether, fearing Lian Zhi would invade his dreams.
The daylight outside was still bright as a server cleaned up the shattered pieces. Min Xuefei asked, “How long have I been sitting here?”
The server glanced at him oddly. “About a quarter-hour, sir. Would you like anything else?”
Min Xuefei closed his eyes briefly, then stood and tossed down some silver. “No, I’m leaving to find someone.”