"Of course I wasn't lying. This place might be a little shabby, but if Old Wang called his cooking second-best in the West Market, no one would dare claim first."
As she spoke, Wei Qing pulled over a bench with easy familiarity.
Not minding the grease on it, she plopped down.
Then she beckoned to Old Wang, whose face had long since gone deathly pale with fright.
"Old sir, what are you standing there for?"
"Ah... yes! Yes! Coming right up, coming right up!"
Old Wang snapped out of his daze.
Anyone else might have fainted at the sight of such a grand entourage.
But what sort of man was Old Wang?
After closing his stall each day, his favorite pastime was ducking into a teahouse, ordering a pot of quality tea scraps, and listening to the storyteller spin a tale with spittle flying.
Whether it was unofficial history from the previous dynasty or amusing news from the present, once it reached his ears, he could spread it throughout the West Market within half a day, liberally garnished with embellishments.
Especially tales of Her Highness the Eldest Princess.
Old Wang knew those like the treasures of his own household, and told them even more vividly than the storytellers.
Though his legs were trembling with fear now, a strange swell of pride stirred in his heart.
This was Her Highness the Eldest Princess!
And she was sitting at his shabby little stall, wanting to eat his flatbread?
His family could boast about this for eight generations!
Old Wang drew a deep breath and forced down the wild pounding in his chest.
His hands actually moved even more deftly than usual.
Slice the meat, fill the bread, ladle the soup.
All in one smooth sequence.
Her expression calm, Jiang Yuechu sat on