Chapter 40: Cai Cong Is About to Cause a Fatal Incident

In the kitchen, the atmosphere was ablaze with activity—shouts and curses flying back and forth. In just a single day, Cai Cong had managed to turn this group of military elites into cooks. If Li Ji ever found out, he might just beat him to death for it. The women, unaccustomed to such chaos, were terrified; the cooks hurled abuse as they worked, cursing everyone from the choppers to the fire-tenders, all with scowling faces. The women kept their heads bowed, too frightened to look up.

"Watch your mouths! Can't you see there are women present?" Cai Cong's face darkened. These soldiers were particularly foul-mouthed, and he felt deeply embarrassed by their vulgarity.

"My fault, sir! I didn't realize you were here—sorry to have sullied your ears," Old Jiu replied, giving himself a mock slap and grinning slyly.

"Enough with the jokes. Your job now is to teach these women how to cook and use the kitchen tools. There are eighty women, so each of you head cooks will instruct ten. In seven days, I’ll come to taste the dishes.

Anyone who teaches poorly, I’ll request His Majesty to send you to guard the city gates. But if you do well, there will be a generous reward. Most importantly, keep your language and your hands clean. If anyone steps out of line, I’ll have him castrated and sent to the palace."

Cai Cong spoke with a cheerful expression, but his eyes told everyone he was not joking. He turned to Zhang Wen and said, "Anyone among you with quick knife skills, go learn to chop vegetables. If your legs are fast, practice serving dishes. I’ll arrange for the inn to be renovated over these days. You’ll be in charge of numbering each table—serving and running food will be your responsibility from now on."

As Cai Cong finished, Zhang Wen, a man seven feet tall, was moved to tears. He had never met anyone who cared for them as Cai Cong did, and swore silently to repay his kindness.

"Enough talk. Just live well and don’t let my efforts go to waste," Cai Cong said awkwardly before dashing up to the third floor, leaving everyone behind laughing at their master’s bashfulness.

As it turned out, women learned to cook faster than men. In just three days, their dishes surpassed those of the soldiers, and the inn was continually being redecorated. Cai Cong was quite satisfied with the rapid progress.

Meanwhile, every woman in the Yan household now loathed Cai Cong. Of all the things he could have gifted, why did he have to send such delicious food? Their young Miss hadn’t eaten anything for three days, her once-chubby cheeks now sunken.

"Master, what are we to do? If the young miss continues like this, she’ll waste away," the servant wept. The young miss was kind and adorable; all the servants adored her.

"How could it have gotten this bad? She’s become so thin, and you only tell me now? Do you still see me as the head of this household?" Yan Silu raged. That clever and sensible little girl was the apple of his eye.

"We thought it was childish stubbornness and would pass, but it’s been three days, and nothing tempts her. We’ve bought from every restaurant in Chang’an, but she still won’t eat. Master, Madam suggests... perhaps you should buy some of that young gentleman’s food?" The servant relayed the madam’s suggestion cautiously. Such pure affection, now tainted by commerce—it was shameful if word got out.

"You all wait here. I’ll go find out where Cai Cong is," Yan Silu said, sweeping out his sleeves and leaving. When Lady Xiao Jia had returned the courtesy gift a few days ago, she’d mentioned her son would be in Chang’an, but he hadn’t asked exactly where. Now he regretted relying on unreliable servants.

Yan Silu held no official post but was often summoned by Emperor Taizong for scholarly discussions. At present, he was waiting in the Secretariat for an imperial edict, and his son, Yan Shigu, was a junior secretary there—hence their servants’ access. But Yan Silu couldn’t leave; he could only worry as he awaited the emperor’s summons.

Finally, when he was summoned, his mind was elsewhere during their discussion, making several mistakes. Emperor Taizong, not angry but smiling, said, "Sir, you always preach composure and calm, yet today your mind wanders and you’ve erred several times. Has something happened to disturb you?"

"Your Majesty, forgive me for bringing shame before you. A few days ago, Lady Xiao Jia’s son, in gratitude for the verse I and Master Li composed for his mother, delivered an incomparable feast. Since then, nothing else tastes like anything to me. My granddaughter, being young, after tasting such divine fare, can eat nothing else—three days she has gone without food. My wife only just sent word, and my heart is in turmoil. I beg Your Majesty’s pardon."

Yan Silu finished, face flushed with embarrassment at his failure of self-discipline.

"In that case, there’s no need for remorse, Kong Gui. I, too, recall Cai’s cooking and my mouth waters at the memory. Truly, it is the pinnacle of earthly flavors—nothing else compares, especially that Dongpo pork. I could eat another large bowl," said Li Gang, who happened to be present, coming to his friend’s aid.

"Exactly! At home, my little girl dreams of fried chicken wings and eats nothing else. My father adores Wen Si tofu—he mentioned it just last night."

The two of them traded names of dishes unfamiliar to everyone else, captivating their audience. Emperor Taizong gritted his teeth—he’d invited them to the imperial kitchens several times, yet they never thought to share these delicacies with him. How exasperating.

"That brat is in the Eastern Market. Zhang Liang gave him an inn, and he’s taken in wounded veterans, refurbishing the place for a grand reopening. I’ll send word for him to deliver a meal to the Yan residence," the emperor declared.

He leaned over and whispered instructions to Yan Dong, who nodded and left.

"My deepest gratitude for Your Majesty’s gracious favor!" Yan Silu bowed, the weight lifting from his heart, and his spirits lightened.

Yan Dong, having received his orders, gathered his men and hurried to Junyue Inn. In his view, the emperor should always be the first to enjoy any delicacy; otherwise, it was disloyal, even treasonous. Meanwhile, blissfully unaware that the emperor was feeling jealous, Cai Cong basked in the sun, sampling snacks made by the new kitchen maids and enjoying a life of leisure.

"Master, these fried pork cubes—what do you think?"

"If you want to eat, have them make some for you. Now, tell me, the dishes I asked you to deliver home—did you sneak any bites?" Noticing Meng Baolai’s insatiable appetite, Cai Cong began to doubt his honesty.

"By heaven and earth, even if we were bold, we’d never dare steal the madam’s food!" Meng Baolai protested.

Cai Cong frowned. Sharp as ever, he immediately caught the loophole. Wouldn’t dare steal from the madam—but what about from me?

He was about to scold Meng Baolai when a loud voice echoed from below: "Imperial edict! Cai Cong, receive the decree!" The voice was commanding, brooking no nonsense.

Cai Cong rushed downstairs, sensing trouble in the tone. He racked his brains—he hadn’t done anything wrong lately, had he?

"Old Yan, you’re delivering the edict yourself?" Cai Cong tried to make small talk, but Yan Dong, cold and aloof, replied, "By order of His Majesty—Cai Cong, receive the decree!"

"I, a humble subject, receive the decree."

"Good—very good. Haven’t seen you for a few days, and already you’ve caused quite a commotion. His Majesty is pleased, but if anything happens to those young ladies, he’ll hold you responsible, you rascal," Yan Dong intoned, mimicking Emperor Taizong’s manner.

Cai Cong was baffled—caused a commotion? Even if he’d wanted to, he lacked the means! "Old Yan, I’ll take the scolding, but look at me—who could I possibly harm?"

(End of chapter)