I felt somewhat sympathetic. I should have advised my brother to forget about Miao Yin and avoid further ties with the royal family, but rationality has never been my strong suit.
After learning Miao Yin’s identity, my brother fell silent. I knew he was thinking about the stark difference in their status—he was merely a small scribe, and she was the empress’s niece, complicating any chance of a marriage.
It had once been feasible, but our grudge with the royal family made it seem nearly impossible.
“Perhaps we should look for another young lady—” I tentatively suggested.
“I understand, I know,” my brother replied, dazed. “It’s been a while since you’ve eaten my cooking, hasn’t it? I’ll go make some food.”
“But—”
“I know,” my brother laughed, his gray-covered eyes glinting. “What would you like to eat? Four delightful croquettes, Eight Treasures tofu, or silver fish egg stew?”
“I—” I was stunned. My brother was not acting normally.
He stood up, stumbling slightly as he walked out. “Going to cook.”
“Elder brother!” I called out loudly. “This is An’s home.”
He suddenly realized, embarrassedly laughing, “I actually forgot this isn’t our home. Little sister, remember to visit often. Elder brother is leaving now!”
I saw him off and watched him enter our parents’ home, feeling relieved. Soon after, my younger sister came running, saying our elder brother was causing a commotion in the kitchen and had already prepared eighteen dishes. If he continued, he might end up preparing a full imperial banquet.
I hurried back with her. Our parents stood at the kitchen door, looking helpless. Seeing me, they looked at me as if I were their savior. “A Yao, what’s wrong with your elder brother?” Mother pointed at the bustling stove and my brother’s busy back. “He’s cooked enough food to last half a month… Are we preparing a flowing water banquet?”
My elder brother, sweating profusely, was carefully carving a peony flower on a white radish, completely focused.
I sighed inwardly and led our parents and younger sister away. “Let him cook.”
That night, our family enjoyed the most luxurious meal of our lives. My elder brother opened a jar of Bamboo Leaf Green wine, drank two cups, then collapsed, mumbling Miao Yin’s name.
Our parents looked confused, and my younger sister asked, “To win? Is elder brother practicing for a cooking competition?”
I forced a smile. “Maybe.”
This tradition among the three countries has existed for a long time, held every four years but suspended for the past twenty due to conflicts between Xiliang and Qi. With its revival, there is hope for peace. The royal families quickly agreed on details, planning the competition for late spring and early summer in Yanfeng City, with events consistent with tradition.
The new emperor of Xiliang stated he would escort Qi’s third prince, Xia Zhichun, back to his home country, leading to national jubilation. The Qi Emperor announced that all citizens could participate in the selection, and first-place winners could choose their rewards.
Anjin and I believed this was a heaven-sent opportunity.
If we could help our elder brother win a championship, he could propose to Xue Miaoyin to the Qi Emperor. No matter how reluctant the Emperor and Empress were, they would not refuse in front of Xiliang and Nanrui, lest they lose face for the great Qi country.
I brought the competition roster home and pulled my elder brother out of the kitchen. He was covered in the smell of smoke, his eyes bloodshot and unshaven, looking utterly dejected. After hearing about the competition, his eyes brightened briefly before dimming again. “No, I can only cook; how could I compete?”
“There are two months until the competition; we can train intensively,” Anjin advised.
“Brother-in-law is right,” my younger sister said, spreading out the competition roster. Having learned about our elder brother’s situation with Xue Miaoyin, she wanted to help him win his future wife. “Elder brother, if you miss this opportunity, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
“But… I really don’t know which event I could participate in.”
“Let’s go through them one by one,” I suggested, picking up the roster. “Gambling is out, not something you can master quickly. How about cuju?”
“No, cuju is a team event; winning first place would make it difficult to make a request,” Anjin disagreed.
“Hunting?”
“No, no,” my elder brother shook his head. “You know I’m not good at riding horses.”
“Lifting weights? Although my brother has decent strength, it’s only good for chopping vegetables. I’ve heard Nanrui has many strong men, so he’d be at a disadvantage,” my younger sister objected. “The same goes for wrestling.”
I tossed it aside. “What about this? Speed walking.”
My elder brother still shook his head. “I walk slower than a Lantern Festival parade.”
“How about this,” Anjin said, picking up a roster. “Mechanical arts.”
My sister and I exchanged a glance, thinking this was feasible. In the three-country competition’s mechanical arts, contestants demonstrate their ability to dismantle mechanisms with the fastest time winning. Our elder brother, meticulous in cooking, had developed quick knife skills, giving him the dexterity perfect for mechanical arts. He tried to shake his head but was intimidated by our gaze.
I wrote “Xiao Wang” on the roster and handed it to Anjin.
“But—” my elder brother began.
I asked earnestly, “Don’t you want to get married?”
My elder brother nodded. “But—”
“Stop with the ‘buts’! Are you going to watch Miaoyin marry someone else?” my younger sister said, exasperated.
My elder brother’s face reddened with anxiety.
“But—what is mechanical arts?”
We looked at each other for a moment. My elder brother clutched his head: “Maybe hunting or speed walking. I’ll train hard these two months.”
“I have an idea!” my younger sister exclaimed. “We can ask Sitian for help and have the Tang clan’s young master teach elder brother mechanical arts.”
My mind cleared. The Tang clan’s hidden weapons and mechanical arts were renowned across the three countries. Learning from Tang Wei could greatly increase our elder brother’s chances of winning.
With Song Sitian’s introduction, Tang Wei agreed to teach my elder brother. For two months, he studied mechanical diagrams late into the night, rising at dawn to create wooden mechanisms and solve the boxes Tang Wei provided.
As the white poplar seeds of spring in Yanfeng City disappeared, the competition teams from Xiliang and Nanrui prepared to enter Qi’s borders. Both countries sent noble-born representatives: Nanrui sent the Second Princess and the Cavalry General, while Xiliang sent the Emperor who had just married the Seventh Princess.
I wasn’t worried about my elder brother, but Anjin seemed increasingly uneasy as the competition approached.
Several times, I caught him looking at me secretly. When I noticed, he would quickly look away, pretending to read or admire the scenery, like a youth lost in secret love.
However, we were past that innocent age, and he was no longer the naive youth. His gaze reminded me of Yuan Feng crouching by the mouse hole, fearful of being discovered.
He would occasionally ask roundabout questions about my thoughts on the competition. Annoyed, I’d tell him to do something else, and he would purse his lips, looking somewhat aggrieved.
The sparrow revealed the truth: “Madam, the master is worried.”
After some reflection, I realized he was likely troubled by my past connection with Xia Zhichun, who was about to return to his country, and he was jealous.
It seemed irrational, as these events happened years ago, and I could barely remember Xia Zhichun’s appearance. Yet, he seemed to know everything. My little secrets would likely never escape his ears.
