Tang Dynasty: Slacking off in the Imperial Kitchen, exposed by Si Zi

Chapter 140 The Retired Emperor's Birthday

Fang Qingjun bit her lip in anger and glared fiercely at Su Mu.

She stuffed the remaining half of the daifuku into her mouth and chewed it vigorously, her cheeks bulging out like an angry pufferfish.

Li Lizhi was laughing so hard she could barely stand up straight, and the dafu in her hand almost fell to the ground.

"Su Mu, Su Mu, if you could donate your mouth, the Tang Dynasty would surely be more peaceful."

Li Lizhi wiped away the tears of laughter, "Qingjun thinks it's delicious, but you're cursing her to choke to death."

"Just telling the truth."

Su Mu looked completely innocent. "This stuff is indeed hard to digest."

Li Lizhi rolled her eyes at him, then suddenly an idea came to her.

She pushed Fang Qingjun toward Su Mu.

"Since this is so dangerous, why don't you teach Qingjun how to make it? She's very skillful; if she learns, she can make it for Prime Minister Fang, so he won't keep nagging you."

Caught off guard, Fang Qingjun stumbled and bumped into Su Mu's arm.

A faint scent of soapberry mixed with the aroma of flour wafted into my nose.

"this----"

Fang Qingjun was about to refuse.

"Okay."

Su Mu readily agreed, "There's still some left, and this basket of strawberries won't last long if we don't wrap it all up."

He pointed to the cutting board, "Go wash your hands."

Fang Qingjun washed her hands and stood somewhat awkwardly in front of the cutting board.

Su Mu stood to her side and behind her, and tossed her a lump of dough.

"Open your palms, don't freeze."

Su Mu's voice was right next to her ear, and his hot breath tickled her neck.

Fang Qingjun's hands trembled slightly. The dough was unruly in her hands; no matter how she tried to knead it, she couldn't make it round, and instead, it stuck all over her hands.

"fool."

Su Mu sighed.

A large, warm hand covered Fang Qingjun's wrist and grabbed it.

Fang Qingjun froze, her mind going blank.

Su Mu's hands had thin calluses from years of holding a knife; they were rough, yet they exuded a reassuring warmth.

"Bend your fingers a little and pinch in a circle."

Su Mu didn't think too much about it. He just thought he was teaching a clumsy apprentice. "Here, make it a little thicker, otherwise the strawberry will break easily. There, make it a little thinner, otherwise you'll end up with a mouthful of dough."

He took her hand and let it wander over the white dough.

The stir-fried glutinous rice flour flew between their fingertips, and the fine dust danced in the winter sun.

Fang Qingjun couldn't hear what he was saying at all.

She could only feel the burning heat on the back of her hand and the faint sense of pressure emanating from the broad chest of the man behind her.

She hadn't even eaten the strawberry wrapped in the daifuku yet, but her mouth and heart were already filled with that sweet and sour taste.

"Finish it off."

Su Mu grasped her hand and squeezed it tightly.

A crooked and twisted daifuku has taken shape.

Although it's not as nice as the one the Shetland Sheepdog has, it's still a round shape.

"Alright."

Su Mu let go of the dough, patted the flour off his hands, and said, "It may look a bit ugly, but I made it myself, so I have to finish it even if it makes me cry."

Fang Qingjun looked at the ugly dumpling in her hand, her face still flushed, but the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up slightly.

"Who—who has to eat this with tears in their eyes?"

She muttered something under her breath, so softly that only she could hear it.

Li Lizhi leaned against the door frame, chewing on a daifuku (a type of steamed bun), watching this scene with a smile like a fox that had just stolen some fish.

Snowflakes were falling heavily outside the window, freezing the whole world.

But the little room was sickeningly sweet, with pink flour crumbs floating in the air.

These past few days.

The atmosphere in the palace was a bit strange.

Logically speaking, Emperor Emeritus Li Yuan's birthday is just around the corner, and those old men in the Ministry of Rites started making a fuss half a month ago, drafting lists, arranging seating, and selecting songs and dances. They practically wanted to dig out every tile in the Taiji Hall and wash it.

But the real person is nowhere to be found.

The Da'an Palace was deserted, with only a few eunuchs sweeping and cleaning, staring at each other blankly.

At this very moment, the room in the backyard of the imperial kitchen, where the chimney had been modified, was bustling with activity.

Li Yuan sat cross-legged on the heated kang bed covered with a thick mattress, holding a handful of melon seeds in his hand, cracking them open and spitting the shells onto the ground, his old face clearly saying "Don't bother me."

"Those old fogies, they do the same thing every year."

Li Yuan spat the melon seed shells into the bronze bowl with a "pui" sound, looking impatient. "It's always the same old praise songs, the same old tired tunes that I'm sick of hearing."

The food was even worse; it looked fancy, but it was all cold and hard as rocks. I'm getting on in years, and I don't want to suffer like that.

Su Mu was squatting on the ground selecting materials, and upon hearing this, he didn't even raise his head.

How could the birthday celebration of the Emperor Emeritus be anything but meaningful? And how could the Imperial Kitchen possibly serve leftovers?

It's simply that the retired emperor was feeling down and came here to find some peace and quiet.

Su Mu didn't point it out.

"So you've been hiding here? The Minister of Rites is probably searching the whole world for you."

"Go ahead and look for me. I've abdicated, can't I even get a peaceful night's sleep?"

Li Yuan snorted, leaned back against the soft pillow, and said, "Young Su, I'm telling you right now."

"I'm not holding a birthday banquet; I'll eat here. Prepare a really impressive dish for me—the kind that will impress everyone, but is only for us few to eat behind closed doors."

Su Mu paused in his hand and put down the piece of dried tendon.

"Can he keep things under control?"

Su Mu dusted off his hands. "That will take some effort. Your Majesty, you can't have this dish today if you want to; you'll have to wait."

"How long will it take?"

"At least three days."

Li Yuan's eyes lit up, and he tossed the melon seeds aside: "Alright! I'll stay here for three days! Anyway, this kang (heated brick bed) is warm."

For the past three days, the backyard of the imperial kitchen has been a forbidden area.

Su Mu didn't let anyone interfere; even the little rascal who always came to steal snacks was coaxed away by him with two candied hawthorns.

A large, old-looking earthenware pot was placed in the middle of the courtyard.

This jar has a large belly and a small mouth, and looks rustic, but it is an old item used in Shaoxing to store aged Shaoxing rice wine, which is breathable and does not lose its flavor.

Material selection is the first hurdle.

Su Mu turned the system repository upside down.

Thirty-head dried abalones, soaked for a long time, doubled in size and became as bouncy as a baby's cheek when pressed.

The sea cucumber from Northeast China is shiny black, with each spine clearly visible; it is the king of the sea.

In addition, there are deep-sea fish lips, yak skin gelatin, the finest part of Jinhua ham, tendons, dried scallops, and shiitake mushrooms —

A total of eighteen kinds!

Each of these items, taken individually, could be the main attraction, but now Su Mu is stuffing them all into this jar.

"Is this what you call a hodgepodge?"

Li Yuan strolled around with his hands behind his back, looking at the basins of soaked ingredients with some doubt, "With so many good things mixed together, don't worry about the flavors mixing."

"This is called 'the ocean embraces all rivers' (meaning to be open to all things)."

Su Mu blanched a two-pound pig's trotter tip to remove the fishy smell, then threw it into the oil to fry.

With a sizzle, the pigskin instantly bubbled and turned an enticing golden-red color.

"The meat should be fried to remove excess oil, leaving only the gelatinous substance. The vegetables should be soaked in the broth to make them the best part."

Su Mu layered the fried pork ribs, pig's trotters, and duck meat at the bottom of the earthenware pot.

Next came abalone, sea cucumber, and fish lips—these valuable items were arranged in the middle.

On top, cover with a thick layer of shiitake mushrooms and winter bamboo shoots.

But that's not the soul yet.

The soul is in the soup!

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