Mo Yan remained silent, causing Ning Xuan’s already anxious heart to rise directly into his throat, where it lodged painfully and left him unable to sit or stand comfortably.
“His Highness has bestowed this upon you. Today is your first day serving here, so you need not do anything else. Later, I will send someone to explain the rules and taboos you must observe while attending His Highness.” Mo Yan did not finally speak until every person who had carried in the food had withdrawn. Once finished, he turned and left without waiting for Ning Xuan to react or caring about his confusion.
What sort of performance is this now?
The corner of Ning Xuan’s mouth twitched. He could not understand the cause or reasoning behind it. But looking at the table filled with dishes possessing every perfection of appearance, fragrance, and flavor, his stomach—quiet for no more than a moment despite having been starved until his chest touched his back—immediately regained its vigor and began churning magnificently.
Helpless, Ning Xuan shuffled toward the table and sat down. Every dish was exquisite. Even the plain white rice, ordinarily the most unremarkable thing imaginable, somehow emitted an alluring sheen and a fragrance that made his mouth water. Better to become a ghost who died from overeating than one who starved. Whatever doubts or concerns remained suddenly became insignificant before such food. Ning Xuan stopped thinking, seized his bowl and chopsticks, and forgot entirely about eating manners. First, he had to make an offering to the temple of his five organs.
The fish head with chopped chilies was impossibly tender and spicy. Tears gathered in Ning Xuan’s eyes from the heat, yet he could not stop moving his chopsticks. The sweet-and-sour pork was even more delicious, tart and sweet, smooth without being greasy, melting in the mouth while retaining a satisfying chew. Ning Xuan narrowed his eyes as he ate, completely losing his sense of direction. Then there was the home-style tofu. It looked like nothing more than plain, pale, tender tofu sprinkled with a little scallion and minced ginger, yet its indescribably delicate texture and fragrance nearly made Ning Xuan bite off his tongue. Meat and vegetables complemented one another, each possessing its own merits, leaving him dazzled and unable to decide what to eat or which dish to try first. That was not even mentioning the corn with shrimp, shredded pork in sweet bean sauce, white-cut chicken, moo shu pork, Buddha’s Delight, Eight-Treasure Rice, West Lake beef soup, and all the other delicacies too numerous to name.
Ning Xuan had never known that delicious and enticing food could itself be such a sinful thing!
After eating and drinking his fill, Ning Xuan sprawled limply across the chair, limbs spread in every direction. With a pained expression, he patted his round, protruding stomach, which seemed to have grown countless times larger. He stared reluctantly at the considerable amount of food remaining upon the table and cursed his own uselessness. He had eaten only a little before becoming completely full, and now he was so stuffed that he wanted to vomit. He secretly wondered whether he could negotiate with Steward Mo when the man returned and have the leftovers stored for him so he could continue eating them tomorrow.
He had barely begun calculating this possibility when maids entered in a line and removed the dishes one after another without allowing any argument. Ning Xuan struggled upright and watched pitifully as each exquisite delicacy disappeared from beneath his eyes. His reluctance was boundless. He could not help regretting that he had not eaten more. At the very least, he could have hidden several plates beneath the bed and enjoyed them later as a midnight snack after digesting dinner.
His resentment lasted only a moment. As soon as the first dishes were carried away, the maids silently polished the table until it gleamed. Several more servants then arrived carrying delicate plates and bowls, which they quietly arranged upon the surface.
This life is more comfortable than an emperor’s!
Ning Xuan’s heart beat with delight. He immediately congratulated himself upon his foresight in not eating until he vomited. Looking at plate after plate of exquisite pastries, he was so happy he practically floated toward the heavens.
As expected, even among servants, attending a prince was entirely different. Not only were the main dishes astonishing, but pastries were served after the meal as well—and each was a delicacy he could rarely even see under ordinary circumstances. More importantly, although Ning Xuan was also a servant, other attendants and maids who did not openly fall beneath his authority nevertheless had to come serve him, carrying tea and pouring water.
Ning Xuan could not help becoming intoxicated with success. In a single day, a salted fish had overturned and his value had doubled. Apart from the danger he had to bear while personally serving the prince, this life seemed rather pleasant.
He casually picked up a crab-roe pastry, took a small bite, and slowly savored it upon his tongue. Its fresh, sweet flavor melted in his mouth and seemed to flow directly into his heart. The pale golden pastry looked especially beautiful beneath the lamplight. Ning Xuan turned around and only then noticed that the room used an oil lamp rather than the candles found in the servants’ quarters at the rear. It was not particularly ornate, merely simple and plain, but he remembered how he and Mo Qi had huddled beside the table within a tiny patch of candlelight while talking, constantly taking care that the smoke did not sting their eyes.
Although Ning Xuan remained cheerful and thoroughly satisfied, he had to face the question seriously: how had such a fine position—one people exhausted their connections, formed factions, and fought desperately to obtain—fallen upon his head?
He carefully recalled all the strange incidents that had occurred recently. His jade-pale face gradually flushed crimson. The hand that had been leisurely holding the crab-roe pastry while he swayed his head in contentment began to tremble. Everyone’s unusual gazes that morning, Qing Zhu and Mo Qi’s evasive and suggestive remarks, and the mocking, admiring, teasing, resentful, or congratulatory discussions in the dining hall at noon echoed through his ears.
An answer seemed ready to emerge, but it frightened Ning Xuan so badly that he threw away the crab-roe pastry he had been enjoying as though it were a burning coal. Looking at the table of pastries he had never seen before, their magnificent and enticing appearance disappeared. Ning Xuan now saw only sugar-coated cannonballs. He retreated ten consecutive steps as though avoiding the source of a deadly plague. Only when his back struck the wall and he could retreat no farther did he press one hand to his chest and stare warily at the exquisite pastries, still badly shaken.
How could he retain any interest in using pastries to fill the remaining cracks in his stomach? If this life of fine clothing, luxurious food, and servants waiting upon him had to be purchased with his body—if it required becoming the forbidden plaything of princes and nobles—Ning Xuan would rather die than accept it!
Even if one had never eaten pork, one had at least seen a pig run. Since ancient times, those born into imperial families had faced countless helpless circumstances: open and covert struggles, merciless blades, betrayal by everyone around them, and bloodshed between relatives were all commonplace. As for those who married into imperial families, how many ever met a good end? The victor became king, and the defeated became a criminal. Choose the wrong man, and one was doomed to a lonely life without support. Even if a woman was fortunate enough to marry the true Son of Heaven, she would still remain imprisoned within the deep palace, forced to share her husband’s favor with thousands upon thousands of others. She could neither resent nor become jealous and might even have to smile sweetly and offer her blessings. Whether the generosity was false or sincere, she had to remain magnanimous, she had to congratulate others, and she had to spend every day anxiously calculating against rivals while guarding against their schemes, all merely to compete for favor.
Had Ning Xuan been a woman, perhaps matters would have been different. She could simply blame herself for falling in love with an emperor. But Ning Xuan was a man! He did not even possess the ordinary method women used to retain a man’s favor—bearing children and using them as an excuse or shield while competing for affection. Decades later, he would not have a single person upon whom to depend. He could only allow someone to visit and play with him when the mood struck, then discard him when bored and leave him to endure contempt and bullying. What he would sacrifice was not merely his body and heart, but every fragment of his dignity and pride as a man—all in exchange for an emperor’s momentary amusement!
Leave a Reply