Chapter 9: Fried Chicken.

Kangxi was inwardly surprised, but his expression remained unchanged.

He walked into the courtyard unhurriedly, picked up the half-empty wine jar, and glanced at it. A clever little eunuch promptly offered a clean cup with both hands. As for Consort Xuan, Noble Lady Nara, and Wan Anran, they all maintained a half-squatting posture, lips pressed together in complete silence.

The sound of wine being poured echoed in the air.

Wan Anran shifted her aching feet slightly, inwardly cursing her bad luck. What was supposed to be a small celebratory feast—how had it ended up attracting the emperor’s attention? Her gaze was fixed on her embroidered shoes. Apart from glimpsing the edge of a pair of apricot-yellow boots with nine-clawed golden dragons out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t see anything else.

Kangxi took a sip of the wine.

The rich aroma surged forward, fragrant and mellow, smooth at first sip but with a spicy aftertaste. It was indeed an excellent wine.

No wonder the three of them seemed a little tipsy.

Kangxi waved his hand, signaling them to rise. Only then did Consort Xuan’s heart, which had been hanging in the air, slowly settle down.

But before her heart could completely ease, Kangxi spoke again, “Who brewed this wine?”

All the fine wines brewed within the palace had seals and dates, with detailed specifications and regulations. However, the wine in front of him was casually bottled in porcelain, clearly a private brew.

Consort Xuan dared not hide the truth and honestly confessed, “It was brewed by Noble Lady Nara.”

Kangxi glanced at Noble Lady Nara.

At least with Wan Fu around, he was somewhat familiar with Noble Lady Nara. Glancing at the nervous Wan Fu, Kangxi’s expression remained indifferent as he said, “Wan Fu is only three years old and shouldn’t be involved with alcohol. As his mother, you ought to be more mindful.”

Noble Lady Nara cautiously replied with a “yes.”

Her terrified and cautious demeanor made Kangxi lose interest. He frowned and averted his gaze, finding this Xianfu Palace utterly dull.

Having lost his interest, Kangxi turned to leave.

Wan Anran discreetly let out a long breath. She slightly raised her head but could only see the back of Kangxi’s head.

Bored, Wan Anran withdrew her gaze, but as she turned her head, she met Wan Fu’s lonely eyes. He gazed longingly yet despondently at Kangxi’s departing figure, his fists trembling slightly at his sides.

Wan Anran glanced at Wan Fu, then back at Kangxi.

Perhaps it was the wine giving her courage? She gently patted Wan Fu’s shoulder. The moment he turned around in confusion, she pushed him forward and loudly called out, “Your Majesty! The Ninth Prince still has something to say to you!”

As soon as she finished speaking, Wan Anran swiftly hid behind Consort Xuan.

Her nimble movements left everyone dumbfounded. Not only the palace maids and eunuchs stared in astonishment, even Consort Xuan and Noble Lady Nara were shocked. Yet, both of them were slightly tipsy from the wine and couldn’t react in time to stop her. They could only glare at Wan Changzai, who seemed unable to go a day without causing trouble, gritting their teeth in anger.

Wan Anran: Innocent.jpg

Kangxi was also slightly taken aback.

Naturally, he could tell that the voice wasn’t from the calm and restrained Consort Xuan, nor from the gentle and quiet Noble Lady Nara… so it could only be? Kangxi’s gaze fixed on the hem of a skirt peeking out from behind Consort Xuan.

What could Consort Xuan do?

She could only pretend not to notice the emperor’s reaction, keeping a straight face and looking directly ahead with a serious expression.

Kangxi withdrew his gaze, somewhat annoyed.

He looked at the visibly nervous Wan Fu. Wan Fu tightly clutched the hem of his clothes, his heart pounding furiously, at least twice as fast as usual.

Even someone as timid as Wan Changzai could do such a thing.

Could he, as a man, not do the same? Wan Fu steeled himself, closed his eyes, and loudly declared, “Imperial Father, can—can—can we have a meal together?!”

His voice rang out loud and clear, the echoes lingering above Xianfu Palace for a long time.

But no reply came. The longer Wan Fu waited, the more disappointed he became, as if a heavy stone was pressing down on his heart, making it ache with a sour and bitter feeling.

Wan Fu’s voice grew softer, muttering, “It’s fine if we don’t eat together… Would you like to try Wan Fu’s favorite food?… Even if you don’t like it, could we just talk for a bit…”

Wan Fu: Small, helpless, and pitiful.

Kangxi stared at Wan Fu in a daze. Of his sons, including the Crown Prince, only four remained in the world. Baoqing and Antai (Yinzhi) were being raised outside the palace and hadn’t returned for a long time. Within the harem, aside from the Crown Prince, only Wan Fu remained.

The more he focused on Baocheng, the more he neglected Wan Fu.

Kangxi thought for a moment but couldn’t recall spending any meaningful time with Wan Fu. Seeing his son’s gradually dimming eyes, he reached out and ruffled Wan Fu’s hair. “I still have state affairs to attend to…”

Wan Fu lowered his head in disappointment.

Kangxi then added warmly, “But it’s not as if I can’t spare the time it takes to eat two skewers of barbecue.”

That clearly meant he would stay for the meal.

The expression on Wan Fu’s face bloomed like spring flowers. He immediately jumped three feet high on the spot, shouting, “Long live! Long live! Imperial Father, you’re the best!”

Was sharing a simple meal with him really enough to make this child so happy? After his initial surprise, Kangxi’s heart ached. His smile softened considerably. His gaze followed Wan Fu as he bounced over to hide behind Consort Xuan, then dragged someone out: “Wan Changzai! Thank you!”

Wan Anran was utterly baffled.

Why are you thanking me!? Especially when Kangxi’s gaze landed on her, she felt her whole body stiffen.

Kangxi let out a soft chuckle.

He had thought this person to be quite bold, but looking at her now, frozen stiff like a rabbit, it seemed her earlier courage had been fueled by the wine.

As they say, “Like bear cubs from the same den.”

Consort Xuan was cautious and meticulous, so it was no surprise that Noble Lady Nara and Wan Changzai were each more timid than the last.

Kangxi shook his head and soon cast Wan Anran out of his thoughts

The Emperor was staying for dinner, so of course they couldn’t let him eat leftovers. The palace attendants from the Imperial Kitchen suppressed their excitement, efficiently clearing away everything on the table and replacing it all at top speed. As for preparing new dishes, there was no need for Wan Anran and the others to worry. By the time she snapped out of her daze, she saw Kangxi seated at the head of the table like a grand lord.

The only person who could sit with the esteemed Kangxi was none other than Consort Xuan.

Wan Anran, now sober but left with a pounding headache, began to question all her life choices. Why, oh why, did she insist on making Wan Fu persuade the Emperor to stay? With a stiff expression, she poured a cup of wine for the Emperor, watching as Kangxi downed it in one gulp, then obediently poured him another.

The only silver lining? From this seat, she had a perfect view of the Emperor’s face.

Kangxi was tall and well-built, with striking dark eyebrows and clear, handsome features. Though his lips naturally turned down at the corners and a few faint pockmarks marred his skin, they could not hide his sharp, elegant looks. He was, after all, just a young man in his early twenties, yet the imposing aura he carried made it difficult for anyone to meet his gaze for long.

Holding her breath, Wan Anran resolved to be nothing more than a wine-pouring tool.

Wan Fu, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement. He nestled beside Kangxi, chattering endlessly about amusing little happenings, then offered his favorite snack to Kangxi with great enthusiasm. “Sweat A-ma, this is the best thing ever!”

A question mark slowly formed on Kangxi’s forehead.

He stared at the crispy, charred slices of steamed bun, instantly tempted to summon the Internal Affairs Department for a thorough interrogation. Had they dared to neglect the young prince so badly that he thought this was delicious?

Luckily, Wan Fu’s next words dispelled his suspicion.

Wan Fu stuffed a piece of bun into Kangxi’s hand and also pushed over a small half-used bowl of egg yolk sauce. “Sweat A-ma, you must eat it with this!”

This strange sauce made Kangxi raise an eyebrow.

He tried a little, finding the taste oddly peculiar. But seeing Wan Fu’s excited face, he still dipped the crispy bun slice into the sauce and took a bite.

Unlike the faint greasiness of eating it plain, when paired with the bun, the unique flavor instantly exploded on his palate—the first taste of mayonnaise, who could resist such a magical condiment?

Kangxi was no exception.

His eyes widened slightly as he took another piece, dipped it generously, and bit down again. First came a faint tanginess, then a rich, creamy taste burst forth. Kangxi finished an entire string of bun slices and still looked eagerly toward the next.

So it turned out Kangxi’s tastes were just like a child’s?

Wan Anran was certain she must still be drunk. How else could she have the audacity to lean in and whisper devilishly into the Emperor’s ear, “It’s even better with fried chicken.”

Kangxi hadn’t reacted yet, but Wan Fu had already exploded with excitement.

He waved his chubby little hands, chanting, “Fried chicken! Fried chicken! Fried chicken!”

Kangxi: “…Bring some.”

How was fried chicken made, exactly? Just toss chicken in hot oil and fry it? Could it be that simple? Liang Jiugong passed the question on to the Imperial Kitchen. The more straightforward the dish, the more nervous the chefs became. They exchanged looks, beads of sweat forming on their foreheads.

The Emperor was in Xianfu Palace?

A sudden flash of inspiration struck Chef Zhao. He respectfully inquired, “Eunuch Liang, was this suggestion made by Wan D—Wan Changzai?”

“Precisely.”

“May I send someone to ask her about the method?”

Liang Jiugong naturally didn’t dare to be negligent.

He brought Chef Zhao to the small kitchen of Xianfu Palace. Before long, Wan Anran also arrived, though there was no need for her to cook personally. Her job was simply to explain.

First, debone the chicken drumsticks and soak them in milk, adding a pinch of salt and pepper to marinate for the time it takes to drink two cups of tea. Then, coat the marinated chicken with a mixture of egg and flour, followed by a layer of starch. When the oil reaches sixty percent heat, fry the chicken until golden brown…

The aroma of fried chicken quickly spread through the air.

Though the method was simple and crude, the fragrance was anything but ordinary. The chefs in the small kitchen wore solemn expressions as they each tasted a piece of the freshly fried chicken.

…Delicious.

Their expressions became strangely conflicted.

Just as they were about to prepare another serving to present to the Emperor, Wan Anran stopped them. Her face was serious as she declared, “It’s not time to relax yet. Turn the heat up and fry the already cooked chicken again on high heat!”

The chefs: …Eh!?

The fried chicken, having been refried, took on a deeper color, yet its aroma had noticeably faded. Under the watchful eyes of everyone present, Wan Anran sprinkled sesame seeds over the chicken, added some garnish, and then announced its completion.

Of course, this batch would not be served to the emperor.

Chef Zhao was the first to take a bite. Though it was delicious, he frowned deeply and remarked, “It feels like it really needs a dipping sauce…”

Wan Anran nodded in agreement. “Oh, you’re right.”

Coincidentally, the egg yolk sauce was running low, so she personally prepared a bit more. Ignoring Chef Zhao’s reaction, Wan Anran had Haitao carry the plate directly to the Emperor.

Kangxi hadn’t spoken yet, but Wan Fu’s eyes were practically sparkling with excitement—no, overflowing with interest would be more accurate. His gaze was fixed on the fried chicken with an enthusiasm that could barely be contained. Once Kangxi took a piece, Wan Fu eagerly picked one up as well.

He coated it with an excessive amount of egg yolk sauce and took a big bite.

Long live fried food! Long live egg yolk sauce! With his cheeks puffed out, Wan Fu made humming noises of satisfaction, turning to Wan Anran with great enthusiasm. “This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Kangxi chuckled in spite of himself.

Such an ordinary piece of fried chicken, and Wan Fu was being this dramatic. Yet, when he took a bite himself, the crispy exterior shattered between his lips and teeth, releasing a burst of fragrance trapped within. Combined with the tender, smooth chicken meat and the slightly tangy egg yolk sauce, the taste was… far superior to those slices of steamed buns.

Even Kangxi couldn’t resist, eating three large pieces in a row.

Still unsatisfied, his chopsticks subconsciously reached out for more, hovering mid-air without descending. Wan Anran had heard before that to prevent assassination attempts and to avoid revealing personal preferences, the Emperor would limit himself to three bites of any dish.

What a pity.

Being an emperor was certainly no easy task.

Kangxi hesitated.

His inner desire was shouting for one more piece, but reason held him back, forcing him to freeze. His gaze, tinged with reluctance, remained fixed on the fried chicken.

“Haan Ama, aren’t you going to eat more?” Wan Fu, cheeks still stuffed like a food-hoarding squirrel, asked with wide eyes.

“Ah… no.”

“Then let your son take care of it!” Wan Fu declared, aggressively spearing the last piece of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffing it into his mouth. After finishing, his little belly was noticeably rounded, and he gave a loud, satisfied burp. His entire demeanor practically radiated the words: completely satisfied.

Kangxi: …………

Wan Fu might have been satisfied, but Kangxi felt a certain emptiness. He sighed wistfully for the fried chicken, his gaze toward Wan Fu growing slightly sinister.

Wan Fu: …………

A shiver ran through him as he suddenly sat up straight, darting glances around like a startled kitten. Especially when his eyes met Kangxi’s, Wan Fu nearly bristled like a frightened animal.

Kangxi’s tone was gentle: “Wan Fu…”

Cold sweat trickled down Wan Fu’s back. “…Your son is here?”

Kangxi spoke warmly, “You’re about the age to start your studies, aren’t you? Go write some large characters for me to see.”

Wan Fu’s pupils quaked.

This… this wasn’t the kind of father-son bonding he wanted, QAQ.

No matter how unwilling—whether a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand times reluctant—Wan Fu was still dragged into the study by Kangxi. Xuan Pin, Noble Lady Nara, and Wan Anran followed closely behind. Having grown up pampered in Xianfu Palace, Wan Fu hadn’t turned into an arrogant little tyrant thanks to their careful upbringing, but as for starting his formal education… well, that had been conveniently delayed.

Just the twelve characters of “If a child is not taught, his nature will deteriorate. The method of teaching values dedication”—even these were enough to make Kangxi pinch the bridge of his nose. One stroke missing here, an extra line there, a misplaced dot—Wan Fu’s writing was a masterpiece of mistakes.

Kangxi sighed heavily.

Xuan Pin and Noble Lady Nara immediately lowered their heads, staring intently at their own toes. Only Wan Anran peeked over curiously, her tone innocent as she quietly asked, “Isn’t Wan Fu’s handwriting pretty good?”

Xuan Pin: …?

Noble Lady Nara: …??

Even Kangxi’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Wan Anran. Raising his voice, he called, “Wan Changzai, come over here and write a few characters for me.”

Wan Anran: …………

Bracing herself, she stepped forward, her hand trembling slightly as she picked up the brush.

At that moment, Wan Anran came to a sudden, dreadful realization.

As a modern Chinese person, she could read traditional characters just fine, but… she couldn’t write them 🙂