Tang Dynasty: Feeding Chang Le, Emperor Li Er exclaimed that she was a true immortal!

LED lights shone throughout the night in the Tang Dynasty's sleeping quarters.

Chang Le barely slept, keeping her eyes glued to the lamp.

Like a primitive man who had just discovered fire, she was deeply fascinated by this thing that could glow continuously without any fuel.

Around 3 a.m., Lu Ming couldn't stand it anymore and yelled through the screen, "Go to sleep! I'll show you something even more amazing tomorrow!"

Chang Le reluctantly pulled the tent curtain shut.

But she secretly peeked through the curtain three more times in the dark.

The next day, in the evening.

Lu Ming moved the small gasoline generator to the balcony, filled it with fuel, and pulled the starter rope.

Rumbling--

The generator emitted a low rumble and began to output power steadily.

Lu Ming connected the wires and plugged in the power to the mobile phone, tablet, and induction cooker.

After confirming that this thing might be useful in the future.

Then he started doing something.

Cook noodles.

A small pot sat on the induction cooker. After the water boiled, he opened two packets of braised beef noodles and threw them in. He then took out two pieces of starch sausage from the refrigerator, cut them into sections, and threw them in as well. Finally, he poached an egg and placed it in the soup.

The whole process was smooth and effortless, requiring absolutely no technical skill.

But the reaction coming from the other side of the screen was—

"What does it taste like?!"

Chang Le suddenly looked up from behind her desk.

That smell was too overpowering.

The seasoning packets in modern instant noodles are flavor bombs concentrated using the most advanced food processing technology.

The richness of butter, the saltiness of soy sauce, the spiciness of chili, and that indescribable aroma of meat.

These flavors blended together to create an olfactory impact that would have been absolutely impossible in the Tang Dynasty.

Chang Le was a noblewoman of the royal family, and she ate palace dishes carefully prepared by the imperial chefs from a young age.

But compared to the aroma wafting over now, those things are like the difference between plain water and strong liquor.

Her nostrils flared, and she involuntarily stood up and walked towards the light screen.

His eyes were fixed on the small pot that was bubbling in Lu Ming's hand.

The noodles in the pot were bubbling, the starch sausage was cooked until it swelled slightly, and the egg white of the poached egg solidified into a white flower, floating on the reddish-brown broth.

Chang Le swallowed hard.

The movement was subtle, but Lu Ming caught it.

He smiled.

He scooped up a lump of noodles with chopsticks, put it in a plastic bowl, poured a full spoonful of soup over it, added a piece of rice noodle sausage and half a poached egg on top, and then handed it over through the light screen.

"Try it."

When Chang Le took the bowl of noodles, the steam hit her face.

She looked down at the contents of the bowl.

The shape and color of the noodles were very strange, unlike any noodles from the Tang Dynasty.

But that fragrance had shattered all her reserve and guard.

She picked up the chopsticks Lu Ming handed her—disposable plastic chopsticks—and used them to pick up a strand of noodles, taking a small bite.

It's quiet now.

The entire bedchamber fell silent.

Chang Le chewed slowly at first, then suddenly sped up.

Her eyes widened in an instant.

The savory and rich flavor explodes in your mouth.

The noodles are smooth and chewy, the soup base is rich and fragrant, and the layered flavors brought by the complex seasonings far surpass the skills of the imperial chefs of the Tang Dynasty.

She didn't have time to maintain her composure.

Chang Le started eating heartily.

The sound of slurping noodles echoed in the bedroom.

She gnawed on half a starch sausage, then took a big bite of a poached egg, the yolk's oil melting in her mouth with the broth.

He didn't say a single word from beginning to end.

Until she finished the last sip of soup—

Yes, she even finished the soup.

They still used the method of picking up the bowl and pouring it directly.

The bowl is upside down.

Not a drop left.

When Chang Le put down the bowl, her eyes were red.

"What's wrong?" Lu Ming was a little confused by her reaction. "It doesn't taste good?"

"tasty."

Chang Le wiped the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, her voice a little muffled.

"It's so delicious."

She kept her head down, avoiding looking at Lu Ming.

"I've been in poor health since I was a child, and I couldn't eat anything. The imperial physicians wouldn't let me eat anything greasy, spicy, or cold. I drank more herbal medicine than food every day."

"The imperial chefs in the palace cooked all sorts of different dishes for me, and I know they did their best, but I just felt that everything tasted the same. Bland, tasteless, bitter."

"But this bowl of noodles of yours..."

She finally raised her head.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she was smiling.

"I think this is the best thing I've ever eaten in my life."

Lu Ming stared at her smiling face, momentarily stunned.

Then he silently turned around and cooked two more packets of noodles.

That night, the two of them sat across a screen, each holding a bowl of noodles, chatting casually.

The conversation ranged from food to clothing, from clothing to housing, and from housing to daily life in the Tang Dynasty.

Lu Ming discovered that this Tang Dynasty princess was far more intelligent than he had imagined.

Her questions were very precise—where did the light from that lamp come from? Why could that square box (air conditioner) blow out cold air? What exactly were those transparent materials (plastic) made of?

Lu Ming tried to explain things in simple terms, and for things he couldn't explain, he would just use the phrase "divine means" to gloss over them.

Chang Le didn't take it too seriously, but her thirst for knowledge grew stronger and stronger.

As the conversation went on into the late hours, the atmosphere gradually changed.

Chang Le hugged her knees, leaned against the bedpost, and lowered her voice.

"Lu Ming, do you know Changsun Chong?"

Lu Ming paused for a moment with his chopsticks.

"I've heard of it."

He had heard of it more than once.

Historically, Princess Changle married Changsun Chong.

He was the legitimate son of Changsun Wuji and the nephew of Empress Changsun.

In other words, Changsun Chong was Chang Le's cousin.

Marriage between close relatives.

"My father wants me to marry him."

Chang Le's voice was very soft, as if she were talking about something that had nothing to do with her.

"The Changsun family is the family of the emperor's maternal uncle, and the maternal clan of the empress dowager. The power in the court is deeply entrenched, and at the beginning of my father's reign, he needed the strong support of the Changsun family. This marriage... was arranged from the time I was born."

Lu Ming did not respond.

"I don't want to get married."

Chang Le buried her face in her knees, her voice muffled.

"Every time he looks at me, I'm not there in his eyes. There's only my identity as a princess, only royal blood, only what he can get through me."

"I don't want to be a pawn."

It was quiet for a while.

Chang Le's shoulders trembled slightly; it was unclear whether she was crying.

Then she heard a voice coming from the other side.

"You don't want to get married?"

Chang Le raised her head.

Lu Ming put the empty bowl on the table and wiped his mouth with a tissue.

His expression was very calm, so calm that no emotional fluctuation could be seen.

But every word he uttered carried an undeniable weight.

"Then you don't need to get married."

Chang Le was stunned.

"I've made sure that the Changsun family, a mere clan, won't even dare to set foot in the door to propose marriage."

After saying this, Lu Ming stood up, walked to the computer desk, sat down, and opened the search engine.

He began to examine the political landscape of the early Zhenguan era, the economic lifelines of powerful clans, and the distribution of Changsun Wuji's influence in the court.

His expression was serious and calm.

It's like writing a project proposal.

On the other side of the screen, Chang Le stared at his back, remaining silent for a long time.

Her heart is beating fast.

From the time she could remember, everyone around her—her father, mother, imperial physicians, maids, and even high-ranking officials—when discussing her marriage, used phrases like "it is only right," "this is your duty," and "for the sake of the Tang Dynasty."

No one ever asked her if she wanted to.

No one ever told her, "Then you don't need to get married."

Chang Le lowered her head and buried her face in her knees.

She didn't cry.

But my eyes are sore.

From that moment on, a seed quietly took root in her heart.