Chapter 100 Pastries

Chapter 100 Pastries

The next day, when Xiao Shao went out, Qi Yan was still asleep.

Xiao Shao deliberately detoured to the side room, intending to mock Qi Yan with a few words—like, "Aren’t you scholars supposed to burn the midnight oil? How can you still be sleeping at this hour?" Or perhaps, "How did you even pass the imperial exams and become a Tanhua* if you sleep this much?" Or even, "Are all the scholars in your cohort like this? If so, Da Qian is in trouble."

(*Third-place finisher in the imperial exams.)

But when he stepped inside, he found Qi Yan hugging the quilt, half his face buried in it as if the bedding were his beloved wife. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his complexion was still far from healthy—clearly, his body had yet to recover from its exhaustion. Yet, the way he clung to the quilt in his sleep looked oddly serene. Xiao Shao hesitated and ultimately didn’t wake him.

He turned and left. "Never mind. I’ll go check on how things are coming along in Jiuli Alley first."

Officials had sent word early that morning. Since the Qi family was convicts, the transfer of property required an official to oversee it. With nothing else to do, Xiao Shao decided to take a look himself. After all, if he brought Qi Yan over later and the place wasn’t ready, it would be quite the embarrassment.

So he boarded his carriage and rode straight to the alley.

Given Xiao Shao’s high status, the officials dared not slack off. In just one night, Qi Yan’s sister had rented an empty courtyard in the alley and moved out of the pleasure district.

When Xiao Shao entered, she was preparing breakfast.

Glutinous rice had been shaped into peach blossoms, stuffed with sweet filling, and steamed over the stove. Upon seeing Xiao Shao, she set aside her work and knelt, leading her two little daughters who followed suit.

The two little ones knelt in a row, but Xiao Shao stepped aside to avoid their bows. Flicking open his fan, he surveyed the surroundings. "This place isn’t bad."

A residence with two courtyards, bright and tidy—quite presentable. Xiao Shao thought to himself, *At least Qi Yan won’t spit blood again when he sees this.*

If he really died of anger, who would review the petitions?

Noticing the fire still burning in the kitchen and freshly steamed pastries, he casually picked one up. "You have such skills, Lady Qi?"

She replied, "These are for Qi Yan. He likes Tongxing Hall’s *meihua cakes*. (Plum blossom-shaped pastries.) Since I can’t leave the alley now to buy them, I made some myself."

Xiao Shao raised an eyebrow. Tongxing Hall was a famous pastry shop in the capital, known for its candied preserves—a favorite among noble ladies. Yuan Yu often bought boxes to charm young women. But Qi Yan liked them?

He thought of the stern, unapproachable Chief Inspector from his past life, then recalled Tongxing Hall’s flashy, bright wrappers. Combining the two—the aloof and imposing Chief Inspector announcing an imperial decree, then reaching into a bright box to pluck out a plum blossom pastry—made him make a disgusted face.

Weird. Just weird.

The mental image disturbed him, yet when his carriage passed Tongxing Hall on the way back to the city, on impulse, Xiao Shao ordered it to stop and bought two boxes of pastries.

By the time he returned to the estate, it was nearly afternoon.

After lunch at home, Qi Yan was forced to drink two more doses of medicine. Thanks to last night’s rare peaceful sleep, curled up in the warm quilt, his muscles had loosened, and his complexion had improved slightly. Still, when he checked his reflection, he saw the lingering pallor of prolonged illness. Pausing, he instructed a servant to fetch a box of eyebrow powder.

A touch of dark powder smoothed over his brows, finally adding a bit of color to his face.

He boarded the carriage with Xiao Shao.

Xiao Shao lounged against the cushions as soon as he got in, while Qi Yan, still somewhat wary of him, sat stiffly in the corner, perfect posture without a single unnecessary movement.

Seeing him like this, Xiao Shao couldn’t resist teasing him. He opened the pastry box, held a piece to Qi Yan’s lips with his fingers. "Want some?"

Leaning on one hand, he watched with amusement. *Did the once all-powerful Chief Inspector really have a sweet tooth for such sugary sweets?*

Since this was a tease, he held it awkwardly, leaving only a tiny space to bite. If Qi Yan wanted to maintain decorum, he’d inevitably touch Xiao Shao’s hand. If he wanted to avoid that, he’d have to abandon propriety and snatch it with his teeth.

Either reaction would be entertaining.

Xiao Shao waited, amused. Qi Yan froze for a moment, eyeing the pastry. Realizing the predicament, he pursed his lips and leaned back slightly. "...No need. You have it."

Xiao Shao narrowed his eyes: "Not eating?"

"...Not eating."

"Really not?"

"...Really not."

"If you don't eat, I'll throw you in jail."

"..."

"Fine." After a stalemate, Xiao Shao withdrew his hand and ate the pastry himself. But he had never been fond of overly sweet treats—the sickly sweetness clung to his throat, and it took several gulps of tea to wash it down. He remarked, "Not great."

When he looked up, however, he saw Qi Yan's slightly lowered lashes, as if sorrowful, his piercing dark eyes fixed on him with an unfathomable look.

—More precisely, staring at the corner of his lips.

"?"

Xiao Shao wiped the crumbs from his mouth with a handkerchief and snorted, "What? You refuse when I offer it, but now that I've eaten it, you're eyeing it? Too late to spit it out now."

Qi Yan only gazed at him quietly: "Your Highness doesn't find it... dirty?"

Xiao Shao: "...?"

This time, he was genuinely baffled, completely failing to follow Qi Yan's train of thought. "What?"

The pastry was freshly taken out—aside from Xiao Shao's hand touching it, the only other contact had been... Qi Yan's lips.

Dirty?

Qi Yan said matter-of-factly, "I have undergone castration."

His tone was flat, devoid of any emotion, merely stating a fact. In the Da Qian court, eunuchs were indeed at the bottom of the social hierarchy—scheming lackeys condemned without discussion of merit. Regardless of status, whether noble-born or commoner, anyone could point at them and sneer, "Gutless trash." Due to physiological limitations, even with daily cleansing, they could never be as "clean" as others.

Xiao Shao finally understood what he meant. His brows arched, and an odd expression crossed his face before he snorted. He took another pastry from the box and pressed it right against Qi Yan’s mouth, commanding, "Eat."

Qi Yan froze, but Xiao Shao's tone left no room for refusal. Not daring to refuse, he took a small bite from his hand.

The taste of plum blossoms burst on his tongue—it was indeed very sweet.

Before he could reminisce about the taste of this childhood treat, Xiao Shao had already withdrawn his hand and, without hesitation, ate the remaining pastry in one bite—including the bitten edge Qi Yan had nibbled.

"!"

Qi Yan went rigid, almost leaping up in the carriage. He looked away sharply, not daring to look at Xiao Shao, his ears flushed red.

Xiao Shao swallowed the pastry in a few bites, washed it down with two cups of tea, and then said, "You think this is bad? Before I came of age, I messed around in the Divine Machine Battalion. You knew that, right?"

Qi Yan's gaze darted away, nodding slightly.

Xiao Shao was infamous in the capital as a playboy. The Emperor and Empress, having him late in life, doted on him like he hung the moon—granting every whim, stars or moon. With his striking, flamboyant looks, just galloping through the streets could steal half the city's maidens' hearts.

Unfortunately, Xiao Shao had no interest in romance. He adored military strategy, crossbows, and firearms, often quoting, "Why shouldn’t a man take up arms to reclaim fifty provinces?" But as a prince, what need had he for titles? Unable to dissuade him, the Emperor and Empress let him mess around in the Divine Machine Battalion for a time.

It was only after the Crown Prince began overseeing state affairs that Xiao Shao, for whatever reason, gradually morphed into the current ne'er-do-well.

Xiao Shao: "The officers fobbed me off, refusing to show me the real gear, handing me hand-me-down junk. So I knocked out one of them, stole his uniform, and sneaked into the armory at midnight. After I'd seen enough, I stumbled out with an arm around them and even shared a lamb leg with a bunch of drunk patrolmen."

He recalled, "The food in the military camp couldn't compare to the palace. The lamb leg still smelled of earth, its skin charred black by the fire, sprinkled with coarse salt—yet I ate it all the same."

Qi Yan's forehead creased, unsure whether to criticize Xiao Shao for being unorthodox or lacking manners. Yet, as he thought of the vast moonlight over the northern hills of the imperial city and the young man galloping freely beneath it, a strange yearning stirred within him.

The two of them took turns eating the pastries in the carriage, which eventually rumbled into the alley. Qi Yan followed Xiao Shao out, and as soon as he stepped down, he paused slightly at the sight before him—a quiet courtyard house with gray brick and tile, draped with vines.

This place was nearly as nice as he had imagined.

In his dreams, Nine Li Alley had been a squalid, dilapidated den of filth where his sister barely survived. But this courtyard was serene and clean, with winter jasmine vines planted at the entrance, nearly as nice as the Qi family's former residence.

Qi Yan raised his hand to knock on the door, his hand shook slightly.

Facing the vermilion-painted gate of the small courtyard, he suddenly felt afraid.

Afraid that all of this was just a dream, a delusion born from the torment he had endured. Nervous about facing what he'd dreamed of, he found himself unable to take those last few steps.

Xiao Shao stood nearby with his arms crossed. "Not going in? If not, we're leaving."

His tone was gruff, yet the moment Qi Yan heard his voice, he felt grounded again.

Xiao Shao was here—this was no dream.

His fingers twitched with a sudden, inexplicable urge—to grab hold of Xiao Shao's sleeve. But as a servant, such an act would be way too forward. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

What awaited him inside was better than he'd ever dreamed.

His family was safe and sound. His sister brought out pastries, while two little girls were swinging in the courtyard. The fragrance of glutinous rice mingled with the early spring wintersweet in the air—each detail was something he hadn't dared to imagine even in his dreams.

Dazed, Qi Yan let his sister take his hand and seat him at the table, feeding him a pastry. He swallowed the food numbly, looking down to hide the moisture in his eyes.

Xiao Shao went to a nearby tavern to drink, leaving the siblings to their reunion. Only when he had enough to drink did he return to fetch Qi Yan.

He ushered the young scholar back into the carriage. "Alright, seen enough? Satisfied?"

Inwardly, he thought, *Now that you're satisfied, you better start reviewing those memorials for me—even if it takes all night. You owe me this much.* But before he could voice it, Qi Yan suddenly gathered his robes and knelt before him in the carriage with a heavy thud.

Xiao Shao: "?"

His hand jerked, almost spilled tea all over Qi Yan's face.

Qi Yan raised his hands above his brow in a formal bow. "This kindness today, I shall never forget. If Your Highness ever has need of me in the future—"

Before he could finish, Xiao Shao grabbed him by the back of his collar and yanked him up.

"..."

They stared at each other, wide-eyed.

Xiao Shao's hands moved faster than his thoughts—before he even realized what he was doing, he had already acted. Qi Yan was so slender that lifting him felt no different from picking up a bun. After settling him properly onto the seat, Xiao Shao coughed. "There *is* something I need from you."

His expression turned serious. "The Hedong Canal is blocked. Do you have any ideas for flood control in that area? Write me a plan as soon as possible."

Qi Yan straightened as well, frowning. "The Hedong Canal? I know the local hydrology and geography well—writing a plan won't be difficult. But why does Your Highness suddenly bring this up?"

Xiao Shao snapped his fan open. "I’ll ask my father to take you to Hedong for a trip."

Author's Note:

Outwardly: "Taking you to Hedong for fun."

In reality: "Taking my brother's place."