Since the incident of the "miraculous effects of dietary supplements," Lin Wanwan's prestige in the palace has reached an unprecedented peak.
The Imperial Medical Academy regarded her "medicinal diet prescriptions" as gospel, and Director Zhang would come to Kunning Palace every few days, ostensibly to check her pulse, but in reality to ask her for advice on "dietary therapy and health preservation".
The way the palace servants looked at her changed from initial awe to heartfelt worship and trust. The saying, "Her Majesty the Empress is a lucky star sent from heaven," became a truth believed by almost everyone in the palace.
Lin Wanwan simply smiled and ignored it.
What she truly cared about was never these empty titles, but Xiao Che.
She only wanted him to be well, not only physically, but also... mentally.
As an emperor, he possessed supreme power and enjoyed the homage of all under heaven. But she knew that beneath that cold mask, he was just an ordinary person who could feel restless, tired, and lonely.
And she was perhaps the only person in the world who could see into his true heart.
On this day, the weather turned bad.
From the afternoon onwards, the sky became so overcast that it seemed about to collapse, and a steady drizzle of autumn rain shrouded the entire palace in a damp and chilly atmosphere.
This kind of weather is most likely to make people feel melancholy.
After finishing his official duties, Xiao Che did not leave as usual, nor did he make any excuses. He simply sat quietly by the window of the side hall, watching the endless rain outside the window, without saying a word.
He neither read a book nor drank tea; he simply sat there quietly.
Rain pattered against the eaves and banana leaves, making a "drip-drop" and "rustle" sound, making the entire hall exceptionally quiet. His straight back, in the dim light, cast a long, slightly thin shadow, exuding an indescribable loneliness.
Lin Wanwan didn't disturb him, but quietly stayed by his side, her gaze fixed on the void above his head.
Today, there are no longer the usual raucous complaints or cute and funny GIFs.
Instead, there is a pixelated figure that is entirely gray.
The little figure had no facial features; it simply curled up, burying its head deep in its knees, sitting alone in an empty corner. All around it was an endless expanse of gray, devoid of any color or sound.
A heavy, overwhelming sense of loneliness emanated from that small emoji, making Lin Wanwan's heart tighten.
She suddenly remembered his background.
His birth mother died early, and he grew up neglected by the late emperor and amidst the omnipresent scheming in the palace. He had no brothers to rely on, no mother to confide in, and could only barely protect himself by wrapping himself in a thick shell of ice.
He was the emperor, and also... a lonely man.
On such a gloomy, rainy night, perhaps moved by the scene, the loneliness deep within him, which he never easily showed to others, finally peeked out.
Lin Wanwan's heart stirred, and she suddenly realized what he needed at this moment.
What he needed was neither rare delicacies nor exquisite court cuisine. Those things could only fill his stomach, but could not warm his cold heart.
What he needed was simply the most basic and pure warmth, the warmth of everyday life.
She stood up quietly, left the side hall, and went into her small kitchen.
The small kitchen in the rainy night was brightly lit and warm as spring.
Without disturbing anyone, she simply rolled up her sleeves and went to the stove herself.
She scooped out the finest white flour from the flour bin, added warm water and a little salt, and kneaded it by hand into a smooth dough. She used all her strength, repeatedly kneading and slapping the dough until it became elastic and resilient.
Then, she rolled the dough into a large, paper-thin sheet and cut it into even noodles.
The water in the pot on the stove was already boiling. She put the cut noodles into the pot and watched them roll and stretch in the boiling water, gradually becoming crystal clear.
On another stove, she heated lard in a pan and cracked a fresh egg into it. With a sizzle, the egg yolk quickly solidified in the hot oil, the edges becoming crispy and fragrant, while the yolk in the center remained runny and slightly runny. A perfect, golden-brown poached egg was ready.
Once the noodles are cooked, they are scooped into a bowl of prepared broth. The broth is made by simmering pork bones and chicken carcasses over low heat for several hours; it is clear and has a delicious flavor.
Finally, she sprinkled a few bright green scallions on top, and then gently placed the golden poached egg on top of the noodles.
A simple, plain bowl of plain noodles is now ready.
It doesn't have rare ingredients or complicated procedures; all it has is the aroma of wheat in the noodles, the deliciousness of the broth, and that purest, most comforting warmth.
Lin Wanwan personally carried the steaming bowl of noodles back to the side hall.
Xiao Che remained in the same position, quietly watching the rain outside the window, like a sculpture immersed in its own world.
She gently placed the tray she was carrying on the small table beside him. The porcelain bowl clinked softly against the table, pulling him back to reality.
He slowly turned his head, his gaze falling on the bowl of noodles.
The rising steam from the bowl blurred his vision. All he could see was a bowl of clear, refreshing noodle soup with a golden poached egg on top and a few sprinklings of bright green scallions.
“Your Majesty,” her voice was exceptionally gentle in the quiet rainy night, “it’s cold, have a bowl of hot soup noodles to warm yourself up.”
Xiao Che's gaze lingered on the surface of the bowl for a very long time.
A flicker of surprise, a hint of confusion, and a deep-seated longing—a longing he himself was unaware of—passed through his eyes.
He didn't say anything, but silently picked up the chopsticks on the table.
He picked up a mouthful of noodles and put it in his mouth.
The noodles are chewy and smooth, with a pure wheat aroma. The broth is delicious and rich, warming you as it slides into your stomach, instantly dispelling the chill.
He ate slowly and quietly, as if he were not eating a bowl of noodles, but performing a solemn ceremony.
After finishing his noodles, he used a spoon to carefully eat the perfectly poached egg, bit by bit. Finally, he even picked up the bowl and drank every last drop of the warm soup.
He remained silent throughout the entire process.
Lin Wanwan didn't say anything, she just stayed quietly by his side.
When she looked up again at the top of his head, she saw that the little figure that had been curled up in the gray corner had disappeared.
Instead, there was a small house radiating a warm orange glow.
The house had windows and a door, and wisps of smoke rose from its chimney. It wasn't large or luxurious, but it brought a sense of peace to anyone who saw it. Beside the house, a single word floated—[Home.jpg].
In that instant, Lin Wanwan's heart was filled with a huge, tender emotion.
It turns out that all he longed for was the warmth of a "home".
After finishing his noodles, Xiao Che slowly put down the empty bowl in his hand.
He looked up at her.
At that moment, Lin Wanwan saw an unprecedented, almost "vulnerable" emotion in his deep, night-sky-like eyes. The coldness and aloofness in his eyes melted away completely, leaving only a pure, slightly bewildered and inquisitive gaze.
He looked at her, his lips moved, and after a long while, he asked in a very soft, almost murmured voice:
"What's the name of this noodle dish?"
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