Chapter 9#

There’s a Good Show to Watch Chapter number :7208495#

Chu Tan woke up to find himself lying in the main house, with Mo Shu staring at him with a face full of resentment.

“You’re awake?” Mo Shu set the bowl filled with medicinal broth beside Chu Tan’s hand and said crossly, “Drink it. Don’t go passing your sickness on to the young master!”

“How did I end up here?”

Mo Shu snorted coldly. “The young master took pity on you. Afraid you’d die—pfft, pfft, pfft—afraid you’d collapse in that little broken-down room, so he specially had someone move you over here.”

Mo Shu quickly spat a few times, silently reciting an incantation to ward off ill omens.

A flicker passed through Chu Tan’s eyes. Took pity on him? This young master didn’t seem like the type to show pity. More likely, he was cooking up some mischief again.

But the priority right now was to recover his health. He took the bowl of medicine.

Mo Shu watched him closely, a glint of schadenfreude in his eyes. He had deliberately told the little maid who brewed the medicine to boil it down into a thick, concentrated bowl—bitter enough to kill!

Yet the result was utterly disappointing. Chu Tan raised the bowl and drank it all in one go, not even a twitch of his brow, completely unbothered.

Mo Shu took the bowl and stared at it for a long while—not a single drop left. He even wondered if the little maid had used the wrong ingredients. But he’d smelled it himself earlier, and it was pungent enough to sting the nose.

Before he could dwell on it, Chu Tan asked again, “Where’s the young master?”

“The young master is in the main hall. Dinner will be served shortly.” At the thought, Mo Shu beamed with joy. This was their first New Year with the young master, and he was determined to stay up the entire night without sleeping.

Mo Shu started walking out, but Chu Tan called after him, “I need to eat too.”

“Someone will bring you your meal in a bit.” Mo Shu looked at him strangely. “Don’t tell me you want to eat with us?”

“Mo Shu.”

Rong Yu’s voice came from the outer room, and Mo Shu hurried out.

“What took you so long?” Rong Yu gestured for Mo Shu to fetch the cow’s milk on the table—he couldn’t reach it.

Mo Shu quickly poured Rong Yu a cup. “He’s awake, young master. He even wants to eat the New Year’s Eve dinner with us. He can’t even sit up right now, can only lie on his belly. What a dreamer.”

“Can only lie on his belly…” Rong Yu raised an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued. “Fine. Let him join us for the New Year’s Eve dinner.”

At the dinner table, Rong Yu ate with great relish, while Qin-mama and Mo Shu wore extremely strange expressions. At Rong Yu’s feet lay Chu Tan, sprawled on his stomach, with a small low table in front of him holding several plates of food.

“Eat up,” Rong Yu said.

“Ah, yes, yes, let’s eat.” Qin-mama raised her wine cup, and together with Mo Shu, stood up and respectfully toasted Rong Yu. “May the young master enjoy good health and smooth fortunes in the new year.”

Mo Shu also spouted a string of auspicious blessings, spilling them out freely like they cost nothing.

“Mm, rewards for you.” Rong Yu smiled and took a sip of wine.

Lowering his gaze, he happened to catch sight of Chu Tan. The corner of his mouth curled up, and he poured the rest of the wine from his cup into Chu Tan’s, teasing, “A reward for you too.”

Chu Tan lifted his eyelids slightly. “Thank you, young master.”

With that, he tilted his head back and drank.

Rong Yu’s smile widened, his eyes brimming with interest.

He seemed to grow addicted to this game of feeding. Whatever he ate, he’d toss a bit to Chu Tan. A bite of fish, and he’d pick up a slice of fish and drop it into Chu Tan’s bowl. A bite of duck intestine, and he’d toss a piece of duck intestine to him too.

Rong Yu was like someone teasing a little dog, doling out charity, a malicious smile hanging at the corner of his lips.

Yet this humiliating treatment didn’t provoke any anger from Chu Tan. He chewed the fish bones to a pulp and swallowed them, sucked the meat off the bones clean before spitting them out. He accepted all of Rong Yu’s “rewards” without complaint, offering thanks after every single one—flawless, impossible to find fault with.

Even Rong Yu had to admire him. Worthy of being the Child of Destiny—able to stoop and rise as needed.

In the book, Chu Tan had endured the original owner’s torment in exactly this way, spending a full two years to achieve his goal and leave the Rong estate.

This time, Rong Yu wanted to see just how long Chu Tan could endure.

Qin-mama also tried some of the braised dishes. Yesterday, Mo Shu had spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen supervising the chef, and she hadn’t paid it any mind. But now that she tasted it, she was somewhat surprised—the flavor was remarkably good.

“Young master, this braised dish tastes far better than what Shi Xuan Zhai serves.”

Mo Shu wagged his head. “Of course! The young master personally improved this secret recipe.”

Qin-mama nodded and praised, “The young master is naturally gifted, and has loved eating and known his food since childhood. Refining a recipe is naturally no trouble at all. Speaking of which, among the dowry left by the mistress, there really is a braised food shop.”

The “mistress” Qin-mama referred to was Rong Yu’s biological mother, née Yang.

Back when Lady Yang married into the family, her dowry procession stretched far more than ten li—one hundred and eighty full loads of dowry carried into the Rong estate in an endless stream, stunning the citizens of the capital.

The storytellers in the teahouses recounted the affair for three days and three nights straight. Such extravagance—even a princess’s marriage procession would have been nothing more.

Lady Yang’s dowry was rich , including fields, manors, shops… everything. Among them were a restaurant in the capital and a braised food shop.

Rong Yu recalled that when he’d looked over the account books yesterday, there did indeed seem to be such a shop. But its business was truly poor—over the course of a year, income and expenses roughly balanced out, earning no profit.

Mo Shu gnawed on a duck foot. “There’s nothing to be done about it. In the capital, whenever anyone mentions braised food, the first thing that comes to mind is Shi Xuan Zhai. Aside from them, business at all the other braised food shops is bad. Not losing money is already a good result.”

Qin-mama pinched Mo Shu’s ear. “What nonsense are you spouting!”

“It’s fine.” Rong Yu took a sip of wine. “Who’s the owner behind Shi Xuan Zhai?”

“The Third Prince,” Mo Shu said casually.

Rong Yu’s eyes widened slightly. How would Mo Shu know about matters concerning a prince?

Seeing his expression, Qin-mama seemed to guess what Rong Yu was thinking and said, “The young master doesn’t go out much, but everyone in the capital knows the Third Prince is the owner of Shi Xuan Zhai. It’s because the Third Prince’s mother was a female official in the Imperial Kitchen, and her family has excelled in this craft for generations. The braised food recipe for Shi Xuan Zhai comes from the Third Prince’s maternal family.”

“A prince engaging in commerce? Doesn’t the Emperor mind?” After all, in the eyes of ancient people, scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants—merchants were at the very bottom.

Qin-mama shook her head with a smile. “The young master may not know this, but the Third Prince is the most leisurely of all the princes. Unlike the other princes who diligently attend to state affairs and share the Emperor’s burdens, the Third Prince only devotes himself to fine food, spending his days roaming the streets and markets, completely unrestrained. Although it’s a bit beneath his station, the Emperor has even praised the Third Prince for his pure and simple heart.”

The Third Prince? Devoted to fine food? A pure heart? Rong Yu almost thought he’d misheard.

If the Third Prince had no interest in politics, then who was the one in the book who matched wits with the Crown Prince, fought for the throne, and competed over Rong Yue?

Rong Yu let out a cold laugh and glanced down at Chu Tan.

These ancient people—every single one of them was better at disguising themselves than the last.

Since he’d already resolved to thoroughly torment the protagonists, Rong Yu decided to add a little trouble for this Third Prince as well. After all, his little lover had annoyed him at noon today.

“When you get back, copy this recipe and give it to the manager of the braised food shop. I remember the shop is called Yang’s Braised Food, right? The name isn’t good. Change it to… Jue Wei Braised House!” Rong Yu mused for a moment. “And I remember there’s also a syrup dessert shop. Tomorrow I’ll write out a few more recipes for milk tea and send them over as well.”

Qin-mama’s eyes lit up. Could it be that the young master has finally stopped muddling through his days and is ready to properly manage the businesses the mistress left behind?

Her old eyes reddened. “If only the mistress were still here—she would be so pleased.”

“Mother, why are you crying on such a joyous day?” Mo Shu mumbled.

“You ungrateful little thing!” Qin-mama swatted Mo Shu, then wiped her eyes. “Enough of that. Let’s drink.”

Mo Shu asked eagerly, “Young master, what is milk tea?”

…

By the end of the meal, Rong Yu had drunk a bit too much. The alcohol gradually went to his head, making his eyes somewhat hazy.

He had Mo Shu push him outside for a stroll. The sky had fallen completely dark, yet the courtyard was brightly lit, glowing with red lanterns as far as the eye could see.

Mo Shu wrapped Rong Yu’s outer robe more securely around him. “Young master, they’re about to set off fireworks in the front courtyard.”

Rong Yu nodded. This dynasty was roughly equivalent to the Song dynasty—gunpowder had already been invented, and the varieties of fireworks had developed quite richly.

Within a quarter of an hour, the crackling sound of firecrackers rang out from the front courtyard. Then, streaks of flame shot into the sky like meteors, bursting open against the dark purple night in clusters of multicolored fireworks, dazzling and blinding like trees of fire.

Mo Shu bent down and said with a smile, “Young master, happy New Year. May you have many more years just like this one, and many more days just like today.”

Rong Yu smiled too. “Happy New Year.”

Unfortunately, according to the plot of the book, fireworks this beautiful—he’d be able to see them at most once more.

Mo Shu’s wish, it seemed, would not come true.

After New Year’s Eve passed, the Lantern Festival arrived quickly.

The day before the Lantern Festival, an honored guest came to the estate.

At that time, Rong Yu and Mo Shu were inside drinking milk tea. Freshly brewed milk tea—fragrant and sweet, warming the stomach with every sip.

Mo Shu drank until his eyes squinted shut, licking his lips. “Young master, who would have thought tea leaves could be stir-fried with sugar, then boiled with cow’s milk—it’s so delicious! Every different kind of tea brews a slightly different flavor, but all of them are absolutely wonderful! I went out to buy supplies and saw a huge line outside our shop—it’s so popular!”

This dynasty did have a beverage combining tea and milk, but it had been introduced from the Western Regions and was salty in flavor. Sweet milk tea like this was a first, and refined by a modern person like Rong Yu, its taste was uniquely exquisite. As soon as it went on sale, it became extremely popular with the ancients.

Noble ladies especially—nearly all of them adored this drink. The syrup dessert shop’s business was so good it couldn’t keep up with demand every day.

Thanks to Rong Yu’s generosity, Chu Tan also got a cup of milk tea. After half a month of recuperation, he could now stand and sit on his own. At this moment, he was seated on the other side of the table.

Rong Yu had kept his word—when he said Chu Tan would serve at his side, he meant it. But with Mo Shu around, there was rarely any task left for Chu Tan to do, so he mostly just stood there watching. The master and servant both treated him like air.

“One of these days, use tapioca starch to roll some little balls and put them in it. It’ll taste even better,” Rong Yu said casually.

“Really? Then I’ll have the kitchen prepare it right away.” Mo Shu was delighted, and sighed, “Young master, how do you come up with so many brilliant ideas?”

Chu Tan raised his cup and took a sip of milk tea, using the cup to shield his probing gaze. He, too, wanted to know just how this young master came up with so many strange and marvelous ideas. It was truly… intriguing.

Rong Yu’s hand paused, his pale eyes going somewhat vacant. Then he lowered his gaze and smiled. “I saw it in a dream.”

It had been nearly two months since he’d come to this world. He was growing more and more accustomed to it. Sometimes he felt like he was a native ancient person, and everything from his previous life was merely a vivid dream.

But other times, he felt that this comfortable life right now was the dream, and when he woke, he’d return to that small, sterile white hospital room.

Which was real, and which was the dream—Rong Yu himself couldn’t tell. He was bound in a shell by the dream, manipulated to move along a predetermined track.

Unable to break free. Unable to be released.

Chu Tan turned his head to look. He suddenly sensed an extremely dense sorrow radiating from Rong Yu, and a self-loathing so heavy it was almost tangible.

He’d felt this emotion once before, at the bathroom—and when he’d gone in, he’d found Rong Yu submerged at the bottom of the water, nearly drowning.

Chu Tan’s gaze dimmed slightly. As far as he knew, this young master had lost his mother in childhood and his legs shortly after, and his temperament had turned willful and violent, erratic and unpredictable ever since. But even so, he lived quite boldly and freely. As the legitimate son of a third-rank official, he lacked neither wealth nor status—if he wanted to hit someone, he hit them; if he wanted to curse, he cursed.

How could he carry such a heavy sense of pessimism and world-weariness?

It was as if… he were adrift outside the world of men, ready to leave at any moment.

A servant came in to report, “Young master, Zhong Qing from the master’s household has arrived.”

Mo Shu went out to ask what was going on of his own accord. When he returned, he said, “Young master, the Third Prince and the Third Prince’s consort have arrived. The master requests your presence in the front hall for a talk.”

This Third Prince’s consort was none other than Rong Yu’s eldest sister, who had married out long ago and whom he had never met.

Thinking of this part of the plot in the book, a sardonic smile curled at the corner of Rong Yu’s lips. There’s a good show to watch!

Author’s Note:

Those of you waiting for smut might have to wait a bit longer. I prefer writing plot—I’m a bit slow and wordy hahaha. I’ll try to throw in some scraps of spice to keep you guys entertained hehehe.

Also, one important thing—it’s harvest season at home, and I’ve gone back to the village to shuck corn, wuwuwu. I’ll try my best to update daily, but the word count might be a bit shorter.