Xia Qinghe's little pastries

Xia Qinghe had kept the increasingly excited girls in the corner of his eye the whole time. He curled his lip discreetly. Not one of them looked as good as his Mianmian, yet they had the nerve to worm their way in here. Hmph, who knew what they were so excited about?

"I'll never miss getting your food again. Don't eat anything from anyone else."

"No way. Mimi's mugwort rice cakes are delicious, and I'm eating them." Lin Fengmian refused outright. He didn't indulge Xia Qinghe in everything, and right now, Xia Qinghe was plainly being unreasonable.

Xia Qinghe felt a breath lodge in his chest, unable to go up or down, leaving him terribly uncomfortable. "Then I'll make them for you. Don't eat theirs."

Lin Fengmian bared his teeth slightly, feeling that his stomach was probably in for trouble from now on. "You can't even cook."

"I'll learn. I'm smart, so I'll pick it up quickly. Out of respect for me, you can't eat anything they give you while I'm learning."

Lin Fengmian met his eyes.

Xia Qinghe saw his own unreasonableness reflected in those eyes. "I don't care. I'm learning to cook for you, so you have to agree to this condition."

Lin Fengmian wanted to fight Xia Qinghe and show him just how badly he needed a beating, but the bell rang. Lin Fengmian gave him a look that said, "The bell just saved your sorry ass."

Eating during the long break had exhausted all his energy, and he still had class afterward. Lin Fengmian

decided not to stoop to that bastard Xia Qinghe's level.

Lin Fengmian had assumed it was just a passing whim, but Xia Qinghe actually joined the cooking club and even went to a chef on weekends to learn how to cook.

Xia Qinghe really was smart. In two weeks, he perfectly replicated every step the chef took. Brimming with confidence, he made a box of pastries and gave them to his grandfather, promptly laying the old man low and becoming the biggest "joke" of a grandson in their circle.

"Qinghe, what made you think of making little pastries for Grandpa?" Xia Chengye picked up a pastry and took a bite. It tasted average, but what mattered was his grandson's filial devotion.

After finishing one, he reached for a second, when a middle-aged woman beside him in a white sleeveless cheongsam said, "Sir, your blood sugar is high. A taste is enough. You mustn't have any more. Don't you agree, Qinghe?"

Sickened by her act as mistress of the house, Xia Qinghe didn't even glance at Bai Qingwan. The moment he came in, he had spotted the old woman sitting beside Xia Weiting. She was over fifty, yet still put on a coy, bashful look that would make anyone want to throw up. His father alone seemed bewitched, utterly entranced.

Unable to bear seeing Bai Qingwan slighted, Xia Weiting snapped at his son, "Your Aunt Qingwan asked you a question. Answer her!"

Xia Qinghe didn't give either of those shameless bastards the time of day.

His attitude provoked Xia Weiting, but before he could explode, a warning look from Xia Chengye made him behave.

On the first and fifteenth of every month, Xia Chengye hosted a family dinner at the old residence. Anyone within three generations of the Xia Family could come. Whether they came for the food or to flatter him, it made for a lively gathering, making the Xia Family look prosperous and harmonious.

Perhaps Xia Chengye had reached the age when he enjoyed this false display of family happiness.

A vixen like Bai Qingwan should never have been allowed into the old residence, but her father had been Xia Chengye's study attendant. Xia Chengye practically treated Bai Qingwan as a daughter. She had all but grown up alongside Xia Weiting, and whatever the Xia children had, Bai Qingwan never went without.

She didn't even need to announce herself to enter the old residence.

What disgusted Xia Qinghe most was this sort of maid who didn't know her place, had no grasp of her own standing, and wanted to become the mistress.

"My mother isn't dead yet." With that single sentence, Xia Qinghe brought the lively atmosphere crashing down. Everyone exchanged looks, unsure whether to reprimand him or let it pass. In the end, they all looked at Xia Chengye.

The real decision-maker in this family.

Xia Chengye raised his drooping eyelids and gave Bai Qingwan a sidelong glance.

Bai Qingwan immediately lost the nerve to speak or remain seated and hurried behind Xia Weiting.

Xia Qinghe looked at the now-empty chair beside Xia Weiting and put his schoolbag on it. "Mom isn't feeling well and couldn't come today. There's no need to remove this chair. It's just right for my schoolbag."

Bai Qingwan's eyes instantly reddened, her fingers ceaselessly rubbing and tugging the embroidered handkerchief she held. Xia Weiting held himself back again and again, wanting to scold his son but not daring to do it in front of the old man.

Who knew what spell that brat had cast on the old man to make him so determined to protect him?

"Grandpa, Mom made these pastries for you. Tell me whether mine taste better or hers." Xia Qinghe took another batch of pastries out of his schoolbag. "Mom's don't look as nice as mine."

Seeing this childish side of Xia Qinghe, Xia Chengye smiled. "Yes, Yulan's don't look as nice as yours."

As he spoke, Xia Chengye ate the few beautifully shaped pastries Xia Qinghe had brought, washing them down with plain water. "Even with high blood sugar, I can still eat a few pastries."

Everyone knew who those words were aimed at and looked toward Bai Qingwan. Seeing that she didn't dare cause trouble, they lost interest. Ultimately, she was someone who couldn't be acknowledged openly. However much she wanted to rise, she could never cross the gulf of her status.

There weren't many pastries, just five, each only the size of a one-yuan coin. Their merit lay in their exquisite appearance; eating them was about appreciating the gesture. Xia Chengye knew that, Xia Qinghe knew that, and so did Bai Qingwan.

But Bai Qingwan had gone a little too far in testing the waters at the family dinner. However much Xia Chengye indulged her or treated her as half a daughter, he still understood the relative standing of a daughter-in-law and a servant.

If he didn't give Qian Yulan and Xia Qinghe some support, that useless son of his would tear the Xia Family apart sooner or later.

In front of everyone, Xia Chengye picked up one of Qian Yulan's little plum-blossom-shaped pastries and ate it.

Just one. He ate no more after that.

Everyone seated at the table had their own thoughts.

Xia Qinghe ignored them. "Grandpa, you still haven't said whether mine taste better or Mom's."

"Yulan's, of course. You still need more practice."

Xia Qinghe gave a dispirited "Oh" and fell silent. Xia Chengye didn't devote all his attention to this one grandson, either. He shared it evenly, asking each grandchild about their schoolwork and testing them. Before the meal was even over,

Xia Chengye's expression changed, and he clutched his stomach. Seeing this, the butler behind him hurried forward. "Sir, what's wrong?"

With a retch, Xia Chengye vomited all over the butler.

Everyone rushed over at the sight, bringing out their finest acting skills, ready to make their presence felt before the old man.

But none moved as quickly as Xia Qinghe. Paying no mind to Xia Chengye's vomit, he scooped him up, swung him onto his back, and charged outside. "Grandpa, I'll take you to the hospital."

Everything blurred before their eyes, and the old man had vanished from the head of the table. All they could see was a retreating back.

Everyone gave Xia Weiting a meaningful look. Who knew you had such fine sprinting genes? Xia Weiting nearly keeled over with fury. He left them behind to chase his father and son. Not to be outdone, everyone else followed.

Xia Chengye was jostled into vomiting the whole way, but Xia Qinghe paid no mind, carrying him all the way to the hospital.

The final diagnosis was acute gastroenteritis, causing vomiting and diarrhea and requiring an IV drip.

Before anyone could lay into him, Xia Qinghe slid onto his knees right up to the old man's bedside. Sniffling, his eyes red, he said, "Grandpa, I'm sorry. I..." All he lacked was a handkerchief to wring. His eyes held all manner of complicated emotions: having done something wrong, regret, guilt, anger.

Xia Chengye raised a hand and stroked his eldest grandson's head. "It's all right. It has nothing to do with you. Grandpa has a weak stomach. Your pastries were delicious."

"Really? It really wasn't my pastries that upset your stomach?"

Facing those eyes, red from crying, Xia Chengye was drawn into distant memories by their clarity, but his gurgling stomach soon called him back. "Yes, I have a weak stomach."

"Then I'll make more for you."

"..." Weak all over, Xia Chengye closed his eyes briefly. Well, thank you. There's really no need to be quite so filial. Keeping a little distance now and then would be nice, too.

But he couldn't say it, especially not while facing those eyes.

"You can all leave."

The others refused to go, speaking over one another to express their concern. Xia Chengye's face turned red from holding it in. "All of you, get out. Qinghe, stay."

Everyone else: "..." Fuck, how could anyone be this biased?

Xia Qinghe was close by and had spent plenty of time at the old man's side. "Hurry up and go. Stop being a nuisance. Grandpa needs to rest."

Xia Qinghe drove the reluctant crowd out, shut the door, and covered the little window so they couldn't look in. He darted to the bedside and picked up the bedpan. "Grandpa, you can go now. They're all gone."

Xia Chengye finally couldn't hold it in any longer, and the floodgates opened.

This eldest grandson of his really could be endearing sometimes, but... he didn't want to praise him at a moment steeped in this particular smell.

By the next day, gossip that Xia Qinghe had laid Old Master Xia low with five little pastries had spread everywhere.

Even that lazybones Lin Fengmian had heard about it.