His gaze was too intense and penetrating, making Jiang Yanyi unable to meet his eyes.

She looked away and said, “You’re the general of the Western State. If anything were to happen to you, the entire Western State would be thrown into chaos.”

“Is that all?” he pressed.

“Of course not! You’ve saved me several times; I can’t just watch that sword come down on you!”

“And what else?”

Jiang Yanyi felt her cheeks heat up.

She turned her face away and said, “Isn’t it just because I’m kind-hearted and willing to help others?”

Feng Shuo’s lips curled slightly as if he were about to smile, but he quickly composed himself.

A tickle rose in his throat, prompting him to cover his mouth and cough twice. “It’s rather hard to hear a single honest word from you.”

Jiang Yanyi’s face burned even more.

When the carriage reached the Feng residence, as Jiang Yanyi was about to disembark, Feng Shuo said, “I’ll come to the inn for the braised pig trotter later.”

Jiang Yanyi was momentarily stunned, not realizing anything odd about his words until she caught sight of the bloodstains on his sleeve. “You should return home to see the doctor first. Don’t go outside in this wind. I’ll bring the pig trotter to the residence when it’s done.”

Even after sustaining such injuries, he was still thinking about food!

“That works too,” Feng Shuo replied.

Yang Xiu and Bing Shao followed Jiang Yanyi back to the inn.

As Yang Xiu reflected on how Feng Shuo had lightly supported her when she got off the carriage and their familiar banter, a frown formed on his face, and a flicker of something crossed his eyes as he looked at Jiang Yanyi’s back.

Although the inn hadn’t opened for business these past few days, Aoqing still insisted on wiping down all the dishes and tables every day.

Jiang Yanyi had told her several times that she didn’t need to do this since they weren’t operating, but Aoqing stubbornly treated these tasks as her daily duty.

When Jiang Yanyi entered the inn, she saw Aoqing placing a freshly cleaned bowl into the cabinet.

Noticing Jiang Yanyi, she asked curiously, “Hua Hua, why is your face so red?”

Jiang Yanyi touched her still-warm cheeks and shrugged, “Is it? Maybe the wind outside is strong and made it red.”

When Yang Xiu and Bing Shao entered, they overheard her and exchanged glances, but neither spoke.

Jiang Yanyi inspected the kitchen and found all the ingredients for the braised pig trotter were ready, except for a fresh trotter.

She asked Yang Xiu to buy a pig leg from the butcher.

For a braise, the key is the flavor, and there was no time for making a proper stock.

Jiang Yanyi found some dried bamboo shoots and soaked them in warm water.

Dried bamboo shoots were her father’s specialty dish in her previous life, a must-have during the New Year’s celebration.

Dried bamboo shoots were more fragrant than fresh ones, and combined with cured meat, the flavors were rich.

Just thinking about it made Jiang Yanyi’s mouth water.

However, since she hadn’t smoked any cured meat yet, she would need to buy fresh meat from the market.

Jiang Yanyi was a regular at the butcher’s, and the meat they delivered was always cleaner than what they sold to others.

Even so, when Yang Xiu brought back the pig leg, she carefully inspected it for any remaining hairs, using tweezers to pluck them out if she found any.

After blanching the pig leg and other pork pieces, she scored the meat and placed it in a clay pot with water to simmer, adding ginger, garlic, star anise, fennel, dried tangerine peel, and other spices to enhance the flavor.

Soaking dried bamboo shoots overnight yielded the best results, but time was short, so Jiang Yanyi cut them into sections and added them to the pot once they were softened.

Knowing that Yang Xiu and Bing Shao were likely hungry after attending the banquet at Han Mansion, she asked Aoqing to help peel some potatoes and boiled rice for six servings.

Potato rice with braised pig trotter was a dish Jiang Yanyi particularly enjoyed.

The cooking method for potato rice was similar to that of pumpkin rice; she first used a generous amount of oil to sauté the ginger and scallions, then stir-fried the potatoes to infuse them with flavor before layering the rice on top.

Jiang Yanyi had always been skilled at controlling the heat while making the rice.

When the bottom of the rice began to emit a faint “popping” sound, she instructed Aoqing to turn off the heat.

As she lifted the lid of the pot, the rich fragrance of rice and the aroma of crispy, golden potato crust from the bottom of the pot wafted out with the steam.

Jiang Yanyi scooped the bottom of the pot with a spatula, and the golden potato crust flipped over.

She had used just the right amount of oil—not too much, not too little.

The crust looked golden and crispy, but it wasn’t greasy.

Since it had been cooked over a wood fire, the flavor seemed even richer.

“Let’s take the rice and eat at the shop out front,” Jiang Yanyi said.

In the past, when they ate, they either sat at the small table next to the kitchen or in the courtyard outside.

But now, with Yang Xiu and Bing Shao added to their group, the small table felt cramped, and eating outside was too chilly.

Qiu Kui nodded, inhaling deeply as if afraid the food’s aroma might escape.

She eagerly grabbed a bowl to serve the rice.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yanyi went to check the pork elbow simmering in the clay pot on the small stove.

She used a damp cloth to lift the lid, and a strong fragrance of meat and bamboo shoots rushed to her nose.

Jiang Yanyi poked the pork elbow with chopsticks and found that the skin was so tender that the chopsticks easily sank in.

The elbow had been stewed to perfection, and she nodded in satisfaction. “The pork elbow is ready too.”

She grabbed a soup tureen, packed the pork elbow meant for Feng Shuo, and then ladled the remaining meat and broth into a larger serving bowl, garnished with a few sprigs of cilantro, and brought it out.

Although the meal consisted of only a few dishes, everyone ate until they were stuffed.

Sometimes the simplest, most homestyle food was the most satisfying.

Jiang Yanyi had deliberately cooked enough rice for two extra people, but the pot of potato rice was still scraped clean.

Even the pork broth was used by Yang Xiu and Bing Shao to mix with their rice.

Though both men offered to wash the dishes after the meal, Qiu Kui was still a bit dissatisfied with these two “waiters,” as they had taken most of the potato crust she had been eyeing.

Unaware of Qiu Kui’s grievance, Jiang Yanyi took the soup tureen and headed to the Feng residence to deliver the broth.

Feng Shuo was in his courtyard.

When he left earlier, he had been wearing a black robe embroidered with serpents, but now he wore a light moon-white robe.

As Jiang Yanyi approached, she caught a faint smell of medicine on him, likely because after returning home, the doctor had tended to his injured arm and then prescribed a medicinal bath since he had been out in the cold wind.

The house was warmed by an underground heating system, so Feng Shuo was no longer wearing his heavy fox fur cloak.

pHis long hair was left unbound, casually held in place by a loose headband, revealing his sharp, delicate jawline.

He sat in a rosewood chair, holding a book in one hand and occasionally flipping a page, his posture relaxed.

“Didn’t you say the pork elbow only needed half an hour to stew?” he asked, not even looking up when he heard her footsteps.

Jiang Yanyi opened the food box and took out the still-hot tureen. “Stewing only takes half an hour, but didn’t you consider the time it takes to prepare the ingredients?”

Hearing her somewhat different tone than usual, Feng Shuo raised an eyebrow slightly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “You’ve grown bolder.”

Jiang Yanyi placed the tureen in front of him. “I wouldn’t dare. You should eat while it’s hot.”

Using his left hand, Feng Shuo scooped a spoonful of broth and tasted it.

The bamboo shoots’ fragrance blended into the soup, giving the pork broth a subtle, enhanced flavor.

He nodded approvingly. “Not bad.”

The pork skin tore away easily with a gentle nudge from his wooden chopsticks, revealing tender, perfectly balanced layers of meat underneath. The texture was delicate, rich in gelatinous goodness.

At first, Jiang Yanyi didn’t think much of him using his left hand to hold the spoon.

But when she saw him also using his left hand to hold the chopsticks, and doing so effortlessly, she couldn’t help but ask in surprise, “You can use both hands?”

Feng Shuo glanced at her. “Most people can use both hands.”

“No, what I mean is—you can use your left hand for chopsticks, writing, and things like that?”

He nodded slightly.

He had always been left-handed, but after enduring many judgmental stares, he had forced himself to learn to use his right hand.

Jiang Yanyi’s eyes lit up in admiration. “That’s amazing.”

Her eyes sparkled with genuine wonder and admiration, free of any pretense or insincerity.

Feng Shuo felt a soft touch in his heart, as if something had gently brushed against it. That part of him softened as well.

In the past, whenever he used his left hand, others would look at him like they were watching a sideshow, sometimes even mocking him.

This was the first time someone had ever praised him for it.