Chapter 111
Chapter 111: Trying to Poach Our Eldest Young Master?
Xiao Man lifted the ingot-shaped wontons one by one with a bamboo skimmer and eased them into the rolling bone broth.
They spun and bobbed in the milky soup, rising and sinking like pale petals caught in a whirlpool.
Before long, the thin skins turned half translucent, showing the blush of meat and the gold of corn beneath—pretty enough to make you hesitate before eating.
She ladled the creamy marrow-bone broth into blue-and-white porcelain bowls. It needed only a pinch of salt; the fragrance was already thick and inviting.
When the wontons swelled and floated, Xiao Man scooped them out gently, as if lifting a net of heavy silver ingots, and slid them into the waiting bowls.
A scatter of finely chopped green garlic went on top, bright as spring.
Then she adjusted each bowl to taste—fragrant vinegar for Lin Yu Ning, who loved sour, and a spoon of chili oil for Granny Chen, who liked her food bold.
Soon the table held steaming bowls of wontons: fresh broth, juicy filling, and garnish that made the whole thing look almost too tempting to touch.
Even Chun Cao received a bowl.
“Eat,” Xiao Man said, smiling as if she were issuing an imperial decree.
Third Miss Lin Yu Ning didn’t wait. She scooped up a wonton and shoved it straight into her mouth without even blowing.
“Hiss—ha—hot, hot, hot!”
She flailed, tongue out, fanning furiously until tears threatened.
Second Miss Lin Yu Jiao tapped her forehead, annoyed and worried at once.
“What’s the rush? Trying to reincarnate early? Slow down. Blow before you eat, or you’ll burn your mouth.”
Yu Ning’s eyes watered as she mumbled back, words slurring around heat and stubbornness.
“It’s too good… I can’t contwol myself!”
Lin Yu Jiao sighed and took her own time. She pushed aside the steam, blew carefully, and tasted the broth first.
One sip, and the bone broth’s sweetness burst across her tongue, warmth sliding into her belly until her whole body felt soothed.
Then she lifted a plump wonton and bit gently through its clear skin.
The wrapper gave at once. A whole shrimp snapped between her teeth, crisp and springy, while the pork filling was rich and juicy. The sweet corn cut through the fattiness in clean flashes, making each bite layered instead of heavy.
Lin Yu Jiao couldn’t help it.
“Mmm. This is really good.”
She set down her spoon and looked at Xiao Man with a seriousness that startled the room.
“Xiao Man, I’m not joking. When your contract ends, don’t stay here. Come to the General’s residence.”
The small kitchen fell silent, as if someone had poured cold water into the air.
Lin Yu Jiao, oblivious, kept going, earnest as daylight.
“We won’t bind you. No indenture papers, no restrictions. Come and go as you please. You only need to… well, at least cook me one meal a day. Name your pay. As long as I can afford it, it’s yours.”
She meant it from pure admiration—convinced Xiao Man’s skill was wasted, tucked away in Cousin’s small Auspicious Cloud Residence as a maid.
What she didn’t consider was that in Xiao Man’s own plan, “stay” might never have been an option at all.
And to everyone else, the role waiting for Xiao Man wasn’t cook at the General’s residence, but something closer to Lin Qing Xuan’s…
Granny Chen ate quietly, ears perked, her inner abacus clacking in pleased calculation.
As for Chun Cao, she didn’t understand any of it. Her life goal at this moment was simple: eat.
She finished her bowl fast—wontons, broth, every last drop—then edged toward Xiao Man with pleading eyes.
“Sister Xiao Man… it’s— it’s so good. Can I have another bowl?”
Xiao Man laughed and couldn’t refuse. She cooked Chun Cao a second bowl, this one vegetarian.
“Eat. There’s plenty.”
“Xiao Man,” Lin Yu Jiao said, pulling herself back into practical matters, “what about Eldest Sister’s portion? Should we cook it now and carry it back, or bring the raw ones and let our cook boil them?”
That question landed cleanly.
Xiao Man retrieved a spotless food box, lined it with oiled paper, and arranged the remaining raw wontons in neat rows—meat and vegetarian separated, with paper between.
“Take them back raw, Second Miss,” she said, hands steady. “These wrappers are thin. If you cook them and let them sit, they soak up broth and go soft. Have your cook boil them right before eating—then it’ll taste the way it should.”
Lin Yu Jiao nodded, impressed.
“You really do think everything through.”
“And my ‘artworks’?” Lin Yu Ning leaned in, conspiratorial, tugging Xiao Man’s sleeve like it was a matter of life and death.
She still couldn’t let go of her lopsided, leaking monstrosities. Ugly, yes—but they were hers.
Xiao Man looked at her stubborn little face and nearly laughed again. She tapped Yu Ning’s nose.
“My Third Miss, you’ve eaten your fill, and now your brain’s gone to sleep too, hasn’t it? That’s why you can’t think.”
She teased her lightly, then softened.
“Come tomorrow. I’ll spend tonight thinking about how to turn your ‘artworks’ into something useful. I’ll make them into a new dish—noodle fish. You’ll get a fresh taste, I promise.”
“Noodle fish? Is it fish or noodles?” Yu Ning’s gloom vanished instantly, replaced by bright, greedy curiosity.
“Okay, okay! It’s a deal!”
Lin Yu Jiao laughed and joined in. “Good. Tomorrow we’ll bring Eldest Sister too. Let her taste your cooking herself, so she stops saying we’re exaggerating.”
The two sisters left satisfied. Chun Cao carried the heavy food box with both hands, and the group headed off cheerfully.
As they went, Yu Ning kept turning back to call, breathless with anticipation.
“Sister Xiao Man! Tomorrow! Don’t forget my noodle fish!”
At last, the small kitchen went quiet.
Granny Chen cleaned up with quick hands, then let her gaze drift to the small plate of vegetarian wontons still on the board.
“These… for Eldest Young Master when he returns?”
“Mm.”
Xiao Man covered them with the damp cloth, worry creasing her brow.
“I don’t even know if he’ll come back tonight. If the wrappers sit too long, the edges dry out. They tear when you cook them, and the texture won’t be right.”
It was only a worry about food.
But Granny Chen heard something else entirely.
Her eyes sharpened. A plan settled neatly into place.
She packed the remaining meat wontons into a large bowl and lifted it with purpose.
“Xiao Man, you rest. I’ll handle the rest. I’m taking these to cook a late-night snack for Uncle Chen and Stone. After they eat, I’ll have Stone run out and bring Eldest Young Master back for you.”
She winked—an expression that practically shouted, I understand.
“Look at you, all distracted. Anyone can see you miss him. This old woman can’t stand watching you youngsters suffer lovesickness!”
Before Xiao Man could protest, Granny Chen swept out like a gust.
Xiao Man stayed where she was, half stunned, half mortified, and wholly helpless.
Stone, meanwhile, ate the hot wontons and felt his blood surge with energy.
After Granny Chen’s “mission briefing,” he slapped his chest so hard the bowl rattled.
“Don’t worry, Auntie Chen! I’ll get it done! I’ll deliver the message, and I’ll bring Eldest Young Master home!”
He wiped his mouth, jumped onto the carriage, and raced into the night, wheels cutting the road toward the Fa Hua Temple outside the city.
Incense smoke drifted through the temple halls, solemn and still.
Lin Qing Xuan had just finished his evening prayers. In a quiet courtyard, he sat across from the abbot, fingers poised over a board.
Then hoofbeats hammered outside—fast, urgent—and Stone’s voice cracked through the calm like a gong with a split rim.
“Eldest Young Master! Eldest Young Master! Xiao Man—she, Xiao Man—she…”
Stone had run too hard. He panted so wildly he stuttered at the worst possible moment.
But to Lin Qing Xuan, those broken words were a thunderclap.
A game piece slipped from his fingers and clacked against the board. The calm he wore so easily shattered in a breath.
[Xiao Man… what happened?]
[Did something happen in the manor? Is she hurt?]
“What happened to Xiao Man?”
He stood so quickly his robe swayed. In two strides he was at the gate, grabbing Stone by the arm and hauling him aside, voice tight with urgency he didn’t recognize as his own.
“Speak. What happened to Xiao Man?”
Stone startled, sucked in a deep breath, and shouted the message exactly as Granny Chen had ordered.
“Xiao Man says she misses you and told you to hurry home!”
The words rang through the temple like a bell struck too hard.
A novice monk paused. A pilgrim carrying lamp oil turned to stare.
Lin Qing Xuan heard none of it.
The fear lodged in his throat dissolved into a rush of wild, surging joy. He released Stone. His eyes burned with a heat that made even the night feel thin.
“Quick.”
One word, sharp as a blade.
Then he turned and strode for the carriage.
“Home.”