Dinner was laid out in the warm chamber of Xuanzheng Hall. There was no grand banquet, no congratulations from the assembled officials, only a small round table covered in dishes. Braised pork, sweet-and-sour ribs, steamed perch, pork knuckle in sauce, Osmanthus Cake, Almond Cream-every dish was one of Qi Yu's favorites. The Imperial Kitchen had received De'an's verbal instructions: there was no need to follow the imperial physician's prescribed menu today; whatever His Highness wanted, they were to serve. The chef at the stove was so excited that he nearly sprinkled sugar into the wok instead of salt. After more than half a month of holding back, he finally had a chance to put his skills to use. He lavished even more care than usual on every dish, cooking the caramel for the braised pork to a glossy sheen, frying the ribs golden, and steaming the perch just until cooked through. Several young eunuchs carried platters along the corridors, their steps as light as if it were New Year.
Qi Yu sat at the table with his chopsticks already in hand, but he dared not start before his imperial father took his seat. He craned his neck to survey the table, his gaze lingering on the plate of braised pork for quite some time. Qi Xiao emerged from the washroom and changed into informal clothes. At the sight of him, the corner of his mouth twitched. He sat down at the head of the table and picked up his chopsticks.
"Eat."
Qi Yu's chopsticks shot toward the braised pork like an arrow loosed from a bow. The meat had been stewed so tender that it quivered between his chopsticks and melted in his mouth. He chewed with his eyes closed for a long while before he could bear to swallow.