He wasn’t quite sure what exactly Emperor Yuan Tai was referring to, but being humble and deferential was always the right approach. Emperor Yuan Tai pondered for a moment and asked, “I heard Fu Shen is not in the capital?” Yan Xiaohan replied, “Your Majesty, the Jingning Marquis was unwilling to stay at this subject’s residence and moved to an estate outside the city the day after the wedding. This subject believed that leaving separately right after marriage would be improper and against Your Majesty’s intentions, so I have been staying at the estate these past few days.” “You did well,” Emperor Yuan Tai praised him, then sighed emotionally, “Fu Shen… no wonder he doesn’t want to stay in the capital.”
The iron-willed general, whose future had been ruined, forced to marry a man, would naturally not want to linger in this sorrowful place, the capital.
Yan Xiaohan observed carefully, seeming to understand Emperor Yuan Tai’s state of mind.
Emperor Yuan Tai asked, “What was Fu Shen doing before you returned?”
Yan Xiaohan hesitated, “This…”
Emperor Yuan Tai: “What is it? Speak freely.”
Yan Xiaohan strangely fell silent for a moment, hesitant, and finally said awkwardly, “The Jingning Marquis needs rest and is currently at the mountain estate… raising chickens and ducks.”
Emperor Yuan Tai was stunned: “Also what?”
Yan Xiaohan coughed dryly, finding it hard to say, “Pickling salted duck eggs.”
Emperor Yuan Tai: “…”
“Pickling salted duck eggs?” Emperor Yuan Tai could hardly believe it, “Why would he suddenly think of doing this?”
A gentleman stays far from the kitchen, and people of the time prided themselves on not touching mundane tasks. Fu Shen, a pampered young master from a noble family, had probably never even entered a kitchen before, so how could he suddenly get the idea to pickle salted duck eggs?
Even if he managed to pickle them perfectly, they would still just be salted duck eggs. If word got out and he was called the “Salted Egg General,” wouldn’t that be embarrassing?!
Yan Xiaohan spilled everything: “The estate’s cook is from the south.”
The Jingning Marquis, raised in the north, didn’t know that southern salted duck eggs are all oily and pickled.
According to the Jingning Marquis, during his military service, the salted duck eggs he ate were mostly bitter or had an unpleasant smell. Half of them were not oily. He thought all salted duck eggs were like that… Now he knows the southern pickling method is different and wants to try it himself.
Emperor Yuan Tai first found it amusing, but his smile faded when hearing about the military times, and finally, he was left with complete silence, a hint of melancholy, and an almost imperceptible guilt.
Yan Xiaohan saw him lost in thought and softly called, “Your Majesty?”
Emperor Yuan Tai slightly closed his eyes and murmured, “Jingning Marquis, Fu Jing Yuan…”
The taste in his heart when he watched the young general’s back disappear at the Golden Terrace was similar to now. But back then, neither of them had imagined that one day, the Jingning Marquis and Emperor Yuan Tai would end up at completely opposite ends. Once gone, there would be no turning back.
After a long while, Emperor Yuan Tai said, “In a few days, during the birthday banquet, have him return.”
Yan Xiaohan lowered his eyes and respectfully replied, “Thank you for Your Majesty’s grace.”
“There’s nothing else. You may leave.”
As Yan Xiaohan was about to bow and retreat, Emperor Yuan Tai suddenly called him back and asked, “How are those salted duck eggs of Fu Shen coming along?”
Yan Xiaohan paused, thought for a moment, and answered, “To be honest, Your Majesty, they might not be very good.”
Emperor Yuan Tai sat up straight, “Oh? Tell me.”
“Too much force,” Yan Xiaohan said candidly. “In one basket of duck eggs, before even sealing the jar, he has already crushed two.”
Emperor Yuan Tai finally burst into laughter. Yan Xiaohan bowed and exited the hall.
A spring breeze blew past, sending a chill down his back. Yan Xiaohan walked alone in the blue-bricked palace corridor, unable to suppress his laughter.
Passing palace maids and eunuchs saw his seemingly mad appearance, laughing in a way that sent chills down their spines. They kept far away, afraid of provoking him.
Emperor Yuan Tai was truly getting old, learning to reminisce and feel regretful.
Unable to clean up the mess caused by the Gold Armored Guards, he realized that Yan Xiaohan was truly a capable and loyal official. While feeling he had wronged Yan Xiaohan, he thought of Fu Shen, and after being subtly manipulated by Yan Xiaohan, a tiny bit of guilt finally emerged in his bronze and iron-cast imperial heart.
Perhaps because Fu Shen had always seemed unyielding in his impression, rarely showing initiative to compromise, his leaving the capital to recuperate and even retiring to pickle salted duck eggs seemed unusually sensible in Emperor Yuan Tai’s eyes. Because of this, he could finally look down with pity on this retired general and, moved by compassion, graciously offered him a chance to return to the capital.
“How utterly laughable,” Yan Xiaohan thought irreverently, “Why don’t you think about who forced him to this point?”
But an emperor would always be an emperor. The guilt was momentary, while wariness would never be fully set aside. Yan Xiaohan knew he wouldn’t want Fu Shen to succeed, even in something as trivial as pickling salted duck eggs.
Fortunately, no major concession was needed. Just by telling him the salted duck eggs weren’t successful, Emperor Yuan Tai would satisfy his own fantasies and suspicions — Fu Shen was ultimately just a mortal. What good was being skilled in leading troops if he couldn’t even pickle a salted duck egg properly?
In a way, Yan Xiaohan and Fu Shen were a perfect match — Fu Shen was a military genius, Yan Xiaohan a cunning strategist. Their ability to survive and turn around desperate situations was remarkably similar.
Walking a few dozen steps north of the palace gate, the Flying Dragon Guard’s courtyard was right ahead. Yan Xiaohan suppressed his smile, pushed open the door, and the people sitting inside looked at him like he was a rare sight, all standing up: “Sir!”
“Sir is back!”
“Thank heavens!”
Yan Xiaohan was puzzled: “Hmm? Thank what?”
Tang Guo, the youngest member of the Flying Dragon Guard and head of the “Northern Prison” Strict Punishment Bureau, was an honest and straightforward young man. When he heard Yan Xiaohan ask a question, he immediately and without hesitation sold out his colleagues: “They said that you were absent these days because you were captured by a monster to have your essence sucked away. Now that you have returned safely, of course we must thank the heavens for protecting you.”
Yan Xiaohan: “…”
The courtyard fell into dead silence. Wei Xuzhou and the others were mercilessly betrayed, lining up against the wall, heads drooping and silent.
Yan Xiaohan let out a cold laugh: “Really? My wedding wine was poured into a dog’s belly? I’ll count to three, and you’d better be quick about it.”
After three counts, all the Flying Dragon Guards simultaneously leaped onto the wall, like a row of large monkeys, sitting gloomily on the narrow wall tops.
This was a nasty trick Yan Xiaohan devised after becoming the Chief Inspector.
The Northern district had more than just the Flying Dragon Guard; six military bureaus were all on the same street. Any passerby could look up and see the generals hanging and fluttering in the wind.
Voices of schadenfreude could be heard through the wall: “Oh, Old Wei, hanging on the wall by your Chief Inspector again?”
Tang Guo, who had sold out his colleagues, looked up for a while but saw Yan Xiaohan still standing there: “Little Tang, where are you going?”
Tang Guo met his gaze innocently.
