Chapter 8: A Bowl of Chicken Noodle Soup

Jian Lai didn’t like to pay attention to fools, but he couldn’t bear it and said, “That’s the princess consort that the emperor bestowed on the prince.”

From now on, there would be three more women in this courtyard.

He had been silently observing.

The master was crazy, the servants were inexplicable, and only Zhi Zi seemed like a normal person.

Thinking about it, the emperor was so indifferent, what good could he choose when bestowing a marriage on the prince?

Mosheng’s mouth was wide open and couldn’t close, “Bestowed marriage? Princess consort? The prince is getting married today?”

He really didn’t know.

He basically stayed by the prince’s side at all times, never leaving the house.

Jian Lai was doing the things like going in and out to get things.

Jian Lai was also a silent person and didn’t say anything when he came back, so Mosheng lived like a fool.

“Then, then why doesn’t the princess consort come to see the prince?” Mosheng said again.

Where was there any appearance of getting married?

It was more like strangers living under the same roof, each minding their own business.

“The prince doesn’t see her, so his heart isn’t troubled,” Jian Lai said coldly.

He hadn’t even mentioned this matter to the prince.

He had also intercepted the imperial decree. Everyone knew the prince’s situation, and no one forced him to go out to receive the decree himself.

In this royal mansion that no longer resembled a royal mansion, the rules were all floating clouds.

“Oh right, the prince doesn’t know that he’s getting married today. This, this isn’t good,” Mosheng paced back and forth.

He wanted to go in and tell Prince Ping.

But thinking about Prince Ping’s pain from the poison and not wanting to see anyone, he didn’t dare to go in again and could only secretly wipe his tears.

Jiang Li went out and came back in a hurry. This time, she was carrying firewood and a very large basket.

In the basket were a chicken, a fish, a large piece of lamb ribs, twenty or so eggs, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, some vegetables… In short, she first picked the good and necessary things to take.

Zhi Zi followed behind her this time, carrying half a bag of rice and half a bag of white flour, panting with exhaustion.

And Douchou came out of the room, holding a roll of rope in her hand, and tied it to the east corridor as if no one else was there, where the light could shine.

Then she moved the quilt out to dry, and the red and green brocade quilt added a touch of bright color to the empty courtyard.

Jiang Li took Zhi Zi to cook in the kitchen.

Although Zhi Zi’s cooking skills were taught by Jiang Li herself, and she could even surpass her, Jiang Li enjoyed the process of cooking when she was free.

Because this process was full of a sense of accomplishment.

But she didn’t want to wash the dishes, and Zhi Zi would take care of the aftermath.

Jiang Li squatted outside the kitchen to kill the chicken.

Zhi Zi and Douchou couldn’t do this, and they didn’t even dare to watch.

Jiang Li hummed a little tune, and with a wave of her hand, she directly chopped off the chicken’s head and threw it aside.

Jian Lai was okay, but Mosheng, who was seeing something so strange for the first time, almost popped his eyes out.

He was still too inexperienced. He had never seen a lady of a noble family kill a chicken so neatly.

Oh, no, he had never seen a lady of a noble family who would hold a knife and kill a chicken herself.

Jiang Li was not only neat in killing chickens, but also quick in cleaning them up.

Mosheng watched as the rooster, which had been flapping its wings and trying to escape just now, instantly turned into a white-feathered chicken.

“Douchou, grab a handful of angelica and astragalus from my medicine box. Oh, right, also a few ginseng whiskers.”

Ginseng?

Mosheng suspected that there was something wrong with his ears.

Ginseng was such a precious thing, and the princess consort was directly using it to stew chicken? Eating ginseng when you’re not sick?

Killing chickens didn’t show nobility, but stewing chicken with ginseng was really a big deal.

It would be great if the prince could drink a bowl of chicken soup like this, since his body wasn’t well.

You know, the monthly allowance in the mansion was controlled by Wang Jingrong, and the three of them, master and servants, also are just barely able to avoid starvation.

The prince lacked medicine, and Jian Lai had made a fuss several times, already killing two chief eunuchs…

They couldn’t kill them all, they simply couldn’t kill all the insolent servants.

Because they couldn’t openly kill people, those people all thought that the deaths of the previous ones were accidental and still dared to reach out.

And most importantly, the prince himself was giving up and lying flat, like a withered tree, his heart like dead ashes, and he didn’t care about eating or drinking at all.

“Miss, should we make the fish too?” Zhi Zi asked.

“No, let’s keep it in the basin first and make it tomorrow after buying some chili peppers. It’s hot, the lamb ribs won’t keep, so we’ll fry them in a while. You marinate them first… It’s too greasy, so let’s stir-fry a green vegetable.”

“Okay, would you like to eat rice or buns? It’s probably too late for steamed buns, and there’s no old dough…”

“Noodles, with chicken soup. Leave some chicken soup, we’ll eat something light at night and wrap shepherd’s purse wontons. After eating in a while, we’ll go dig shepherd’s purse.”

This uniquely blessed (desolate) royal mansion not only had wild vegetables, but maybe even mushrooms!

Mosheng swallowed a mouthful of saliva without any promise.

There was no movement in the main room, and Mosheng silently walked in.

The prince’s poison attack should have passed, the sweat must have soaked the bedding, and he must have collapsed from exhaustion…

He had to go in and change the prince’s clothes and bedding and guard the prince until he woke up.

It would be great if he could eat a bowl of chicken noodle soup.

He just didn’t know if the princess consort had the prince in her heart.

But Mosheng thought of Jiang Li’s swiftness in killing chickens and felt that the result was unknown.

The princess consort was not easy to mess with.

It seemed like she didn’t have the prince in her eyes?

Mosheng skillfully picked up Prince Ping, and the prince’s skinny body made him feel sad.

Jian Lai silently helped change the bedding.

Reality had already worn this rough man into a sissy like Mosheng.

“Jian Lai, is it…” Mosheng smelled the aroma coming from the kitchen, sniffed, “Time to eat?”

So fragrant, too fragrant.

“I’ll go to the kitchen to get food.” Jian Lai got up and went out.

Mosheng stared at him through the window without any promise, really hoping that he would directly turn into the small kitchen.

As long as Jian Lai was thick-skinned enough, they could get chicken noodle soup today.

But Jian Lai went straight out.

His chicken noodle soup had flown away… Now it depended on whether the princess consort would take the initiative.

Douchou: Dream on.

What was the prince worth, that he deserved her sister to take the initiative?

The food that Jian Lai brought back for Prince Ping was only thin porridge and a plate of yellowed old green vegetables, which made people lose their appetite just by looking at it.

His and Mosheng’s food was brown rice and pickles.

Mosheng said that if he hadn’t smelled the aroma of chicken soup, he could have endured it.

But now that he had smelled it, he was furious.

“They’re really getting more and more perfunctory! I, I only hate that I can’t cook…”

He had tried, but the food made in the kitchen was at least edible, but what he made was inedible, so he could only give up.

Mosheng hoped that Jiang Li could send chicken soup, just like she had walked in with the light before, making his wish come true.

But Jiang Li didn’t.

Mosheng said the grapes were sour because he couldn’t eat them, and couldn’t help but mutter, “It doesn’t look like the princess consort came from a noble family either, I don’t know if she washes her hands when she cooks. We don’t want it even if it’s delicious, what if we get a stomachache from being unclean?”

Jian Lai ignored him.

He was already used to Mosheng’s chatter.

Say it, say it, if even Mosheng didn’t make a sound, this courtyard would be too silent.

“Excuse me, is anyone there? The princess consort asked this servant to bring chicken soup to the prince…” Zhi Zi cautiously shouted in the corridor.

“Yes, yes, coming!” Mosheng jumped up directly, his face beaming with joy.