Tremendous changes
Yan Zhiwei was in a semi-conscious state for over a month.
At first, it was just a low-grade fever, which subsided quickly, but then came a cold. The low-grade fever and high fever continued to alternate, and there were very few moments when I was conscious.
Like someone sinking to the bottom of a cold, murky river, Zhiwei struggled to rise. Her eyelids felt incredibly heavy, and each attempt to open them was met with blinding white light and a dull ache in her head.
First, there was a buzzing sound in my ears, then gradually I could hear muffled human voices, accompanied by cautious sobs.
"Sister, sister, wake up..." Having lost track of time, Yan Zhiwei's condition improved after another high fever subsided.
It was Shao Zhao's voice. Zhiwei's consciousness returned.
A faint scent of soapberry, carrying a hint of herbs, wafted into my nostrils, unlike the harsh smell of sweat and blood found in the military camp.
Zhiwei took a deep breath, and a tearing pain in her lungs finally forced her to open her eyes.
My vision was blurred for a while before it finally focused. Above me was an elegant blue gauze curtain, and beneath me was a soft and delicate brocade quilt. The air was filled with the crisp scent of sandalwood and a faint, almost imperceptible sweetness.
It was only after the fact that I realized this was not a hard bed in the barracks.
“Shao Zhao,” Zhiwei said hoarsely.
"Sister! You're awake! That's wonderful!" Shao Zhao's little face suddenly came close to Zhi Wei's eyes. The little girl had lost a lot of weight, and her once round cheeks were sunken, with obvious dark circles under her eyes.
Shao Zhao was wearing a pale yellow cotton dress, her hair was neatly combed into two buns, and there were still tears on her cheeks.
Shao Zhao gripped Zhiwei's hand tightly, so tightly that Zhiwei frowned.
"Where is this?" Zhiwei looked around. The room was not large, but the furnishings were extremely elegant. Every table and chair exuded understated sophistication. The window frames were carved with delicate flowers and birds, and several green bamboos could be seen swaying outside the window.
It's luxurious yet has a real, homey feel, unlike a typical guesthouse.
“It’s the Zhu family mansion in the capital! The young marshal’s… oh no, the Crown Prince’s villa.” Shao Zhao spoke quickly, her voice filled with the excitement of surviving a disaster. “My sister was in a coma for more than a month. During that time, there was a great victory at the front. Marquis Jiping, who is now the Emperor, quelled the rebellion and is about to ascend the throne.”
“We followed the Crown Prince’s carriage back to the capital. You remained unconscious, so the Crown Prince placed you here…”
More than a month? Ascension to the throne? Zhiwei's mind was like a shovel of glue, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information.
All she remembered was Zhu Liji being seriously injured after they fell off a cliff, and how they spent a cold and desperate night in a cave, and then Zhu Mingyu, who rode in on horseback amidst the crisis...
"Where is your brother Zhu?" Zhiwei suddenly sat up, a sharp pain shooting through her body, and her vision went black.
“The young general is fine. It’s just that the front lines have just been secured and military affairs are plentiful, so he can’t get away for the time being. He can only come to stay with you for a while after the evening.” Shao Zhao grabbed Zhiwei’s waist in time.
“Sister Zhiwei, you don’t know, we were so grateful to Sun Wei on the day of the rebel attack. I never expected that he, who usually seems so unserious, would be so useful at the crucial moment. He organized the people in the kitchen who were in chaos to burn oil together to fight the enemy. It’s just a pity that Zhang Baozheng, he, in order to protect the last bit of food, was killed by the enemy…” Shao Zhao’s voice choked up, and her eyes reddened.
Zhang Xingzhong... is dead?
Zhiwei's heart sank. Zhang Xingzhong, who had argued with her when she first joined the kitchen and then treated her differently during the food poisoning case, was dead?
Zhiwei still remembers his lonely figure walking away amidst the aroma of "Golden Jade Full House Cake". One of the few people in the military camp who made her feel a sense of warmth and life was gone.
An indescribable sense of loss and sorrow welled up in her heart, dispelling the confusion of her initial awakening. Zhiwei silently lowered her eyes, her fingertips unconsciously twisting the corner of the blanket.
Shao Zhao sniffed, trying to calm herself down, and continued, "It was Sun Wei. He rushed into the fire and pulled me out. To save me, he... he burned his arms..." The girl's voice grew softer and softer, her fingers twisting the hem of her clothes, her eyes darting around, and an unnatural blush spreading across her cheeks.
Zhiwei saw this and understood, so she gently patted the back of her hand.
"It's good that you're alright," Zhiwei reassured her.
Just then, the door was silently pushed open.
A gentle and elegant young woman walked in, leading a little boy by the hand.
The woman wore a moon-white brocade dress, her black hair was tied up, and she only wore a simple jade hairpin. Her eyebrows were like ink paintings, and her eyes were like autumn water, as if she possessed an innate tranquility that could soothe restlessness.
It was this quiet elegance that made Zhiwei realize instantly that this was no ordinary woman.
The little boy behind the woman was about six or seven years old. He wore a well-tailored royal blue brocade jacket and a longevity gold lock around his neck. His little face was exquisitely beautiful, suggesting that his parents were also exceptionally good-looking.
But he was too thin, his back was a little hunched, and his complexion was a kind of pale, almost transparent white that lacked sunlight.
The boy's face was tense, clearly showing his reluctance, and his little mouth was pouting so much it could hang an oil bottle. He clutched a small cloth tiger tightly in his hand, but his eyes were fixed on a nanny carrying a tray beside him.
On the tray was a bowl of emerald green vegetable soup.
"Miss Shao Zhao, Lady Yan is awake? That's wonderful." The woman's voice was gentle, her gaze falling on Zhiwei's face with kind concern and a touch of just the right amount of aloofness.
"I am Cheng Yuzhi, the mistress of the backyard of this house. My husband told me that Lady Yan is a capable woman who has made great contributions to the army. She has had a hard journey and encountered great difficulties. Is she feeling better?" Cheng Yuzhi nodded slightly, her demeanor impeccable.
Whose wife is the mistress of the inner quarters?
Zhiwei looked puzzled. Cheng Yuzhi seemed to see through Zhiwei's confusion and spoke again, saying, "My husband is indeed..."
"Mother, I don't want the soup! Tell Granny Jiang to take it further away!" the little boy behind Cheng Yuzhi shouted, interrupting Zhiwei and Cheng Yuzhi's conversation. Cheng Yuzhi turned around, her gaze falling on the little boy beside her, her eyes revealing a tender yet helpless doting affection.
"Sheng'er, you're being silly again. Where did the etiquette I taught you go? There are still patients here."
Cheng Yuzhi then explained to Zhiwei, "This is my son, Sheng'er. Please give my regards to Sister Yan."
Zhu Sheng glanced quickly at Zhiwei, then turned his head even further to the side and muttered something in a low voice. It was hard to hear what he said, but his resistance was obvious.
His attention quickly returned to the bowl of vegetable soup, and his little brows furrowed.
The old woman surnamed Jiang placed the tray on the small table beside the bed and carefully advised, "Young master, it's time to eat. This vegetable soup was specially prepared for you by the kitchen..."
"No! It's green! It tastes awful!" Zhu Sheng abruptly shook off the nanny's hand that was on his head and shrank back.
Seeing this, Cheng Yuzhi frowned slightly. She sighed softly, took the bowl, scooped a spoonful of vegetables and put it to Zhu Sheng's lips. She coaxed him gently, "Sheng'er, be good. You can grow tall and strong like your father if you eat vegetables."
“Don’t you admire your father the most?” Cheng Yuzhi urged again.
"But Father treats me..." Zhu Sheng paused, covered his ears, and insisted, "I won't eat it! It's bitter!"
Zhu Sheng kept his mouth tightly shut, his little face turning red, and he looked like he was about to cry.
Cheng Yuzhi also seemed somewhat at a loss.
Seeing the stalemate between the mother and son, especially Zhu Sheng's apprehensive attitude as if he regarded vegetables as poison, Zhiwei's "professional compulsion" as a cook unexpectedly surfaced.
She cleared her hoarse throat and tentatively asked, "Madam, does the young master find this vegetable soup bitter?"
Cheng Yuzhi looked up, a glimmer of hope in her eyes: "Exactly. This child has been a picky eater since childhood, especially disliking green vegetables, always feeling they have a grassy smell and finding them bitter."
"We've had so many chefs come and go, trying all sorts of different dishes, adding seasonings, changing cooking methods, frying, braising, and stewing, but he only eats a little bit," Cheng Yuzhi said dejectedly. She had exhausted all her methods, but her son still wouldn't listen to her.
Zhiwei nodded. Children have sensitive taste buds, so it's inevitable that they will resist certain flavors. Zhiwei asked more about Zhu Sheng's dietary restrictions and preferences, her gaze sweeping over the bowl of emerald green vegetable soup, a thought stirring in her mind.
"If Madam doesn't mind, could you please ask the kitchen to bring out some of the young master's favorite carrots and pumpkins, a small piece of soft tofu, a little chicken broth, a pinch of salt and sugar, and two eggs?"
Zhiwei's voice was still weak, but her thoughts were clear, and her eyes had regained their usual focus and brightness.
"Children's tongues are delicate, and their taste buds are different from adults', making them especially sensitive to bitter tastes. Forcing them to eat can easily lead to aversion. Perhaps... we could try 'hiding' them?"
"Hide it?" Cheng Yuzhi and Shao Zhao both looked curious.
“Yes,” Zhi smiled, with her characteristic confidence. “Cover up the original flavor of the vegetables with a flavor that the young master can accept.”
"For example, carrots and pumpkins have a natural sweetness. When juiced and mixed into steamed egg custard, they have a pleasing golden color and a sweet taste."
"The tofu is smooth and tender, and the chicken broth is delicious. It is an excellent nutritional supplement."
"As for the greens..." Zhiwei paused, "Actually, you can chop them into smaller pieces, or just take the tender leaves, blanch them, juice them, and mix a little bit into the egg mixture. The amount should be so small that you can hardly taste it; it mainly serves as a garnish and provides nutrition."
"In this way, the steamed egg custard will be golden and smooth, with a sweet and fresh taste. If you add one or two cute cooked green peas on top, perhaps the young master will be willing to give it a try?"
Cheng Yuzhi listened with a look of amazement in her eyes.
This method sounds simple, but no one has ever considered it so meticulously from the perspective of a child's senses.
She immediately instructed the maid, "Go and prepare as Lady Yan said."
The kitchen staff worked quickly, and the ingredients were soon prepared and delivered to the small adjacent cubicle.
Zhiwei was too weak to do it herself, so Shaozhao helped her sit to the side and gave her instructions verbally. Cheng Yuzhi also watched with great interest.
Before long, a bowl of egg custard, as smooth as cream and golden in color, appeared before my eyes. With a few bright green peas in the center, it was just as Zhiwei had said, quite lovely.
Zhu Sheng opened his small mouth and tentatively took a small sip.
In an instant, the little guy's eyes lit up, and he leaned over and ate all the egg custard in the spoon.
"More! Sweet ones!" Zhu Sheng laughed.
Cheng Yuzhi looked at her son, a relieved and extremely gratified smile on her face. She put down her bowl, turned to Zhiwei, and bowed solemnly: "Madam Yan, I really don't know how to thank you."
Cheng Yuzhi's gratitude came from the bottom of her heart, her eyes sincere and warm: "Rest assured and recuperate here. If you lack anything or need anything, just tell me or the servants. I am a few years older than you, and if you wish, you can call me 'elder sister.' This place is like half a home for you, so don't feel constrained." Her words were gentle, carrying a reassuring power.
Zhiwei quickly replied, "Madam, you flatter me. It was nothing."
She was about to say not to worry about it when she heard steady footsteps outside the door.
Accompanied by a clear, familiar voice, Zhu Liji appeared with a smile and asked, "What makes you so happy?"
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