Chapter 9: Cooking Personally, Joyful and Harmonious

Chapter 9: Cooking Personally, Joyful and Harmonious

Yang Zimo had more or less memorized the details about Qin Shi Huang and said, “Your Majesty, allow me to guide you through a cultivation session using spiritual energy.”

“Very well,” Qin Shi Huang replied.

The two entered the Xianyang Palace and sat cross-legged on the floor. Yang Zimo then transmitted a stream of spiritual energy into Qin Shi Huang’s body, guiding it to circulate through his meridians in a full cycle.

It was Yang Zimo’s first time leading someone else through spiritual energy circulation, so he was somewhat unfamiliar, taking a full four hours to complete. Considering Qin Shi Huang’s advanced age, the process was particularly challenging.

Fortunately, with Yang Zimo’s presence, this circulation helped purge much of the impurities and toxins from Qin Shi Huang’s body, which made him feel sticky and uncomfortable before.

“Your Majesty, this is a normal reaction to the expulsion of impurities and toxins from your body. From now on, I will come to you daily to guide your cultivation. And during times when I am absent, Your Majesty must persist in cultivating on your own.

Cultivation is a process of constant perseverance, often tedious, but its benefits are visible. Your Majesty, how do you feel now? Are you more at ease and invigorated?”

“Master, don’t say another word—I feel as if I have returned to my youth as a noble son, full of strength,” Ying Zheng said, swinging the treasured sword in his hand experimentally.

“Master, I...” Qin Shi Huang looked at Yang Zimo, uncertain what to say. The master had endured many grievances before but never mentioned them. Instead, he offered the method of cultivation, giving him hope for eternal life. Yet Qin Shi Huang could not find a fitting reward to give him.

Perhaps sensing Qin Shi Huang’s thoughts, Yang Zimo waved his hand and said, “Your Majesty, there is no need. I also wish to see, under your leadership, our descendants of Yan and Huang, the people of Huaxia, ascend to the throne at the pinnacle of the myriad clans.”

“Indeed! I shall fulfill, as you wish, the long-cherished aspirations of our Huaxia ancestors!” Qin Shi Huang firmly grasped Yang Zimo’s hand and vowed.

By the time they left the Xianyang Palace, it was evening, and dusk was settling in. Lady Lin Wannian, wife of the Marquis of Jingyang, was waiting at the gate with their eldest daughter, Xuanji, their youngest daughter, Xuanyin, and a large group of household members.

“Welcome home, Marquis! (Husband! Father!)”

Seeing everyone, Yang Zimo quickened his pace, casually lifting Wannian’s waist and holding the hands of Xuanji and Xuanyin as they walked into the residence.

“Oh my! Husband, so many are watching!” Wannian blushed, still shy even though her husband often carried her in front of the servants.

“What’s there to be afraid of? I’m holding my own wife—who would mind?” Yang Zimo said dominantly.

“Hehe! Father, Mother, you’re so embarrassing!” The two little girls circled around their parents, clapping and giggling.

Looking at his cherished wife in his arms and their lively daughters bouncing at his knees, Yang Zimo laughed heartily. Turning to his daughters, he said, “Xuanji, Xuanyin, would you like Daddy to make something delicious for you?”

“Yes! Yes!” the children exclaimed happily.

Wannian, too, looked at her husband with anticipation, curious about what new culinary creation he would attempt this time, though last time’s fried rice with egg had been truly delicious.

With the noisy crowd, they headed to the kitchen. The head cook, Chun Niang, hurried over with the kitchen staff.

“Greetings, Marquis!”

“No need for formalities,” Yang Zimo waved his hand.

“May I ask, Marquis, did you come to the kitchen because the food was not to your liking?” Chun Niang asked cautiously.

“No, today I’m in a very good mood and want to prepare some snacks to delight my wife and daughters!” Yang Zimo glanced back at Wannian and teased Xuanyin and Xuanji’s noses.

“In that case, Marquis, I’ll prepare the ingredients immediately,” Chun Niang said and was about to leave.

“No hurry. Chun Niang, please go to the vegetable garden and pick some fresh greens. Prepare boiled pork, fresh chicken, duck, fish, rabbit, and some well-leavened dough. I have a big plan.”

After Chun Niang left with her team to gather ingredients, Yang Zimo changed clothes with Wannian’s help and stepped into the kitchen together.

The kitchen in the Marquis’s residence was spacious and bore signs of Yang Zimo’s personal design, reflecting some elements from the future. Having grown up in the countryside, often cooking for himself, he was quite familiar with kitchens.

Yang Zimo himself had built the stove. Rolling up his sleeves and tying them back with cloth strips, he picked up a knife on the cutting board and began preparing the ingredients.

Beside him, Wannian approached the stove, lighting the fire with some thatch to boil water. Seeing the marquis and his wife cooking together, the steward Ji and head cook Chun Niang hurried over to help but were signaled by Wannian to leave the kitchen.

After all, this was a private moment for the marquis and his wife, and no one dared to disturb or intrude on their shared world.

Outside, steward Ji told the servants, “Before the Marquis met His Majesty, when he and his wife lived in Qingniu Village, they often prepared meals together, rising with the sun and resting at dusk. It’s said that during free moments, the Marquis would take his wife to watch sunrises and sunsets, and the whole family would go to the creek to catch fish and shrimp.

But ever since moving into the Jingyang Marquis residence, the Marquis’s affairs have been busy, and he rarely cooks with his wife. Today, he’s in a rare cheerful mood—us servants mustn’t spoil it.”

While steward Ji shared stories outside, laughter and joy filled the kitchen.

They brought the pot to boil, placing the cleaned chicken inside to cook.

The two little ones, seeing their mother and father busy in the kitchen, clamored to help—washing vegetables, tending the fire, playing gleefully.

Yang Zimo glanced back at this scene, his eyes full of tenderness and happiness. His hands moved faster—boiling water, blanching the chicken, chopping the meat into pieces: rabbit diced, pork sliced, eggplant cut into strips, lettuce shredded.

As time passed, delicious aromas slowly wafted from the pots. The dishes were gradually placed on plates. The two little ones could hardly resist—while Yang Zimo wasn’t watching, they sneakily grabbed handfuls from the cool plates and stuffed them into their mouths. Their little hands kept reaching back for more.

Seeing the remnants of food on their chubby cheeks, Wannian gave them a warning glance. Startled, the children giggled and ran out of the kitchen, each snatching a chicken drumstick on their way.

Wannian couldn’t help but say, “Husband, you really should keep an eye on Xuanji and Xuanyin. Girls should have some manners. If our young ladies of the Jingyang Marquis residence are known to be undisciplined, it would truly embarrass us.”

Without looking up from chopping a fat goose, Yang Zimo replied, “There’s an old saying: raise sons with frugality, daughters with generosity. The girls are still young—let them play freely. Even when they grow up, it won’t matter as long as they learn what they should. Let them have their fun.

Besides, dear wife, you’re still young too. Don’t let the etiquette of a noble lady here bind you. Now is the time to eat, drink, and play as you wish. I remember you in those years I knew you—so mischievous and adorable. Don’t let life change who you truly are. Your husband will never scold you!”

“I understand, my lord husband!” Wannian replied happily. Since moving into the Marquis’s residence, she had taken lessons in etiquette and gradually subdued her lively spirit. She knew that as the Marquis’s wife and a master’s aide appointed by His Majesty, every move she made represented the family’s reputation.

She could not afford to lose face for her husband. Though today he said not to worry, when outside, she still had to maintain the Marquis’s dignity.

But within the residence? Hehe, she could play however she pleased!

(End of Chapter)