018

The news of Si Jingjin's formal appointment as Crown Prince was like a boulder thrown into a lake in early spring, its ripples spreading throughout the court and the palace. The entrance to Zhuixia Pavilion visibly became more lively, and even the provisions sent by the Imperial Household Department were brighter and more timely. Si Mianmian remained as docile and timid as ever, polite to everyone, but she knew perfectly well that with her brother's high position, she and her mother were like children standing under a precarious wall; one wrong step could lead to utter ruin. She needed to do something to offer congratulations without being too conspicuous, and to solidify this hard-won support.

Survival Handbook Rule 18: It's easy to add flowers to brocade, but difficult to offer charcoal in the snow. However, when the other person is at the top, a well-timed and selfless gesture is far more touching than a thousand treasures.

That morning, before dawn, the small kitchen in Zhuixia Pavilion was already lit. Si Mianmian washed her hands, rolled up her sleeves, and her brows furrowed with a rare focus. She had decided to personally make a pastry for her elder brother, the Crown Prince—lotus flower pastry. Shaped like a lotus flower, it symbolized "rising from the mud unsullied," perfectly suited to the Crown Prince's newly established status; its intricate preparation required considerable skill to demonstrate her sincerity; furthermore, the pastry's perishable nature necessitated its freshness, eliminating the possibility of tampering.

Survival Handbook Postscript: The power of food lies in its ability to bypass reason and reach the softest part of the heart. A homemade pastry carries sentiments far exceeding its intrinsic value.

"Qiuhe, fetch flour and lard. Also, find some beetroot, pound it to extract the juice, and strain it for later use," Si Mianmian instructed softly, her voice exceptionally clear in the quiet morning mist. Following the recipe she had gathered, she carefully weighed the ingredients. She mixed the flour, a little powdered sugar, lard, and enough water to form a dough, repeatedly kneading and slapping it until it was smooth and elastic, able to be stretched into a thin film. This was the water-oil dough, the framework for the pastry's flaky layers. She took a small portion, added a touch of light beetroot juice, and kneaded it to a pale pink, like the blushing tip of a newly blossoming lotus.

Separately, combine flour and more lard, and knead gently until a dough forms. The kneading should be light and quick to prevent the lard from melting. This is the oil-based dough, crucial for the layered blooming of the lotus-shaped pastry. The consistency of the oil-based dough should be similar to that of the water-based dough to ensure even wrapping.

For the filling, she chose the finest coconut flakes, mixed them with melted butter, powdered sugar, and egg yolks, kneaded them into small balls, and then placed them in an icebox to freeze slightly to set. The coconut filling has a crumbly texture and a milky aroma, perfectly complementing the flaky pastry.

At this moment, dawn was breaking. Fine beads of sweat appeared on Si Mianmian's forehead, but her expression grew increasingly calm. She rolled out the pink and white water-oil dough separately, wrapped the oil-based dough inside, and pinched the edges closed. Then, she gently rolled it into an oval shape with a rolling pin, rolled it up, and let it rest. She repeated this rolling and folding process twice to create the clear and intricate layers of the pastry.

"Princess, can these dough sheets really bloom into flowers just by rolling them up and down?" Qiuhe asked in a low voice, her eyes wide with wonder.

Si Mianmian smiled slightly, her hands moving without pause: "Slow and steady wins the race. A calm mind and steady hands, when the heat is right, the flower will naturally bloom." Her words seemed to be explaining the dessert, yet also hinted at something deeper. She pressed the relaxed dough in the middle with her thumb, pinching the two ends together, then rolled it into a round wrapper. First, she took a pink wrapper as the base, placed the frozen coconut filling on top, then covered it with a white wrapper, carefully pinching the edges together like wrapping a bun, and rolled it into a ball. Finally, using a thin, sharp blade, she carefully made even, "rice"-shaped cuts on the top of the dough, the depth just enough to touch the filling—too deep and it would fall apart, too shallow and the flower wouldn't bloom properly.

Survival Handbook Revisited: The ultimate dedication lies in the meticulous pursuit of detail. Hidden thunder in silence, true skill revealed in the smallest details.

Pour clear oil into a pot and heat it slowly over low heat. Si Mianmian focused intently on the oil temperature. When fine ripples appeared on the surface, she dropped in a small piece of dough. Seeing tiny bubbles rise around it and it slowly float to the surface, she knew the temperature was right. Using a slotted spoon, she gently slid the raw lotus-shaped pastry into the oil. The hot oil sizzled as it touched the dough. Holding long chopsticks, she carefully adjusted the heat, occasionally drizzling hot oil over the top of the pastry. A magical scene unfolded: the previously closed "rice" shaped cuts, under the influence of the hot oil, caused the layers of pastry to expand, like a lotus bud slowly blooming, petal by petal, pink on the outside, white on the inside, revealing a golden coconut filling in the center, like a delicate stamen. The layers were clearly defined, the shape beautiful, a truly breathtaking sight.

Once the layers of pastry have fully expanded and turned a light yellow, Si Mianmian immediately scoops them out with a slotted spoon and places them on absorbent paper to drain the excess oil. In no time, a plate of lotus-shaped pastries, perfectly formed and fragrant, is ready. Their blooming appearance seems to still carry the morning dew of the Imperial Garden.

Si Mianmian carefully selected the most perfect pieces and placed them on an elegant white jade plate, alongside a small dish of freshly brewed, fragrant Longjing tea. She changed into a simple dress, without makeup, and carrying only Qiu He and a food box, walked towards the East Palace in the morning light.

Upon arriving at the East Palace gate, after being announced, a close attendant of the Crown Prince led her inside. Si Jingjin had just finished the morning court session and had changed out of his court robes, now sitting behind his desk in a dark-colored casual robe, reviewing memorials. Hearing that Si Mianmian was requesting an audience, he put down his pen, looked up, and his gaze was calm and composed.

"Mianmian greets Crown Prince Brother." Si Mianmian bowed gracefully, her voice soft. "I heard that Brother has been working hard lately. I am not very talented, so I made some snacks myself, hoping that Brother can relieve his fatigue."

She opened the food box and took out the plate of lotus-shaped pastries. Instantly, a delicate, sweet aroma mingled with the fragrance of ink filled the study. The lotus flowers on the plate were lifelike, their layers of pastry as thin as cicada wings, appearing even more exquisite in the light filtering through the window.

Si Jingjin's gaze fell on the lotus-shaped pastry, and he paused slightly. He naturally recognized it and knew how complicated its production was. He looked at Si Mianmian, the girl with her head slightly lowered, revealing a slender, fair neck. She held the jade plate respectfully with both hands, her fingertips still slightly flushed from her work, and there were even some flour stains on the hem of her skirt that she hadn't had time to brush off.

"Did you make this yourself?" The crown prince's voice was flat, revealing no emotion.

"Yes." Si Mianmian's voice was barely audible, with a hint of timid self-satisfaction. "Mianmian is clumsy and has practiced several times... I don't know if it suits Brother's taste." She secretly raised her eyes, quickly glanced at the Crown Prince, and then quickly lowered them again, like a child waiting for a teacher's judgment.

Si Jingjin remained silent for a moment before finally reaching out and picking up a lotus-shaped pastry. He moved gracefully, taking a gentle bite. The pastry crumbled and fell away, revealing a sweet and refreshing coconut filling that melted in his mouth. He chewed slowly, offering no immediate comment, but instead took a sip of the tea beside him.

"The taste is acceptable." After a long while, he finally spoke softly, but his gaze swept over the flour on Si Mianmian's skirt again. "Thank you for your trouble."

With just those three simple words, Si Mianmian felt a huge weight lifted from her heart. A blush of relief and shy joy appeared on her face at the right moment: "I'm glad you like it, brother. Mianmian won't disturb you while you're handling your affairs, so I'll take my leave now." She knew when to stop, and after bowing, she obediently withdrew without any hesitation.

Watching the girl's light yet cautious figure disappear into the distance, Si Jingjin's gaze returned to the plate of lotus-shaped pastries. He stared at them for a long time, then stretched out his slender fingers and gently traced the delicate petal shapes. Such exquisite and meticulous pastries could not have been made in a day. His ninth sister always seemed to be able to do things unexpectedly, yet in a way that was always perfectly reasonable.

He picked up his teacup and took another sip. The tea was fragrant and refreshing, and the pastries were sweet and crisp, which strangely dispelled the fatigue of the past few days. He summoned his attendant and instructed, "Put this plate of pastries away carefully. We'll eat them later."

As Si Mianmian walked back to Zhuixia Pavilion after leaving the Eastern Palace, the spring breeze warmed her face. She knew that the plate of lotus-shaped pastries she had given today was more than just a snack; it was a silent gesture of goodwill and a way to maintain their relationship. The fact that her brother, the Crown Prince, had accepted it was a positive sign.

The Survival Handbook concludes: The road to power isn't solely paved with unwavering resolve. Sometimes, a touch of just the right warmth, a gentle, down-to-earth concern, can silently melt away the hardest ice. This lotus flower, "blooming" for her, has quietly taken root in the Eastern Palace.