Chapter 116
Chapter 116: Zhao Lü Liu’s Gaze
Lin Yu Jiao watched Lin Yu Wan finish one fierce sequence after another, the spear cutting the air without pause. Unable to hold back, she called out, “Eldest Sister! We agreed to go eat the noodle-fish soup Xiao Man made. Don’t practice so long!”
Beside her, Zhao Lü Liu looked as if she’d forgotten the world. She hurriedly covered Lin Yu Jiao’s mouth, eyes still locked on the silver spear weaving a net so tight it felt as if nothing could pass through.
“Shh,” Zhao Lü Liu hissed. “Let her practice a little more. It’s rare to see a general’s miss handle a spear so exquisitely!”
Lin Yu Jiao pried the hand away, pride sparking in her voice.
“This is nothing. My father’s gilded-jar hammers—that’s truly fierce. Eldest Sister’s attacks might not even break his defense.”
Zhao Lü Liu turned, delighted by the new thread of intrigue.
“Jiao Jiao, then what about you? What can you do? Don’t tell me you can use sword arts too?”
Lin Yu Jiao lifted her chin and mimed flicking a needle.
“Me? I wield an embroidery needle. I use it to stab chatterboxes like you.”
Zhao Lü Liu laughed, and the laugh made Lin Yu Jiao’s irritation ease into reluctant amusement.
Then Lin Yu Jiao sobered and explained, “Father raised Eldest Sister like a boy. At three, he already started toughening her body. But when I was young, I was weak, and Mother couldn’t bear to watch. She refused to let Father interfere in our upbringing again. That’s why Yu Ning and I never learned spear work like Eldest Sister’s.”
She gestured toward the path.
“Yu Ning has a better foundation than I do. She learned a bit of body training. Look at her maids—if they weren’t carrying the name of the General’s Manor, they’d run wild all day. They’re fast.”
As if summoned by her name, Lin Yu Ning came rushing in like a small storm, clutching her stomach. Chun Cao chased after her, wheezing and nearly tripping over her own feet.
“Can we go find Xiao Man now?” Yu Ning demanded, face scrunched in agony. “I’m starving!”
By then, Lin Yu Wan had drawn her spear to a stop. She planted it at her side, breath faintly quick, sweat beading at her temple. She nodded to them calmly.
“You go ahead. I’m covered in sweat. I need to wash and change.”
Zhao Lü Liu’s gaze clung to her as she turned away, as if Zhao Lü Liu couldn’t bear to let the image vanish.
Yu Ning, however, had already seized Zhao Lü Liu’s hand.
“Come on!” she said, tugging her toward the small side gate that linked the two manors.
On the way, Zhao Lü Liu asked with genuine curiosity, “What exactly is ‘noodle fish’?”
Despite being a high-born noble lady, she knew little of street foods.
Lin Yu Jiao and Lin Yu Ning both shook their heads.
“We don’t know what it looks like either,” Lin Yu Ning said brightly. “But if Xiao Man makes it, it’ll be delicious.”
They reached the Auspicious Cloud Residence quickly. Before they even stepped inside, they saw Old Chen Tou’s family clustered by the small kitchen door, bowls in hand, eating with obvious satisfaction.
Yu Ning’s eyes went wide. She ran up, indignant as a wronged little queen.
“So you’re eating without waiting for this miss? Don’t tell me you’ve almost finished it all!”
Xiao Man heard her from inside and came out smiling.
“There’s plenty. I saved a whole pot for you. Will you eat at the stone table outside, or go to the tea room? Eldest Young Master is in the meditation room—we won’t disturb him.”
Yu Ning’s shoulders loosened in relief. Then she remembered her guest and leaned closer, lowering her voice.
“Sister Xiao Man, we brought someone today. Did you cook enough?”
“More than enough,” Xiao Man promised. “I made extra.”
“Tea room!” Yu Ning declared at once, then added with a secretive grin, “Later I’ll show you something good.”
The three misses went to the tea room, while Xiao Man returned to the kitchen and carried in a heavy bowl that steamed like it held a small sun.
The broth was tomato red, fragrant with sweet tang. In it floated fat, pale strips of dough—plump and smooth, like little fish swimming through a sea of red.
Xiao Man set the bowl in the center of the round table and laid out small bowls and spoons for each miss. The steam rose, warm and inviting, filling the tea room with a scent that made the cold outside feel unreal.
She ladled each of them a portion.
The noodle fish lived up to the name—small, curved strips with thin edges and slightly thicker middles. In the broth, they looked like a school of tiny fish playing in a tomato ocean.
Yu Ning took a spoonful, blew on it, and ate. Her eyes narrowed in bliss.
“So good! Sister Xiao Man, how do you know how to make everything?”
Lin Yu Jiao tasted politely and nodded.
“The broth is bright and appetizing. The noodle fish are soft and smooth. It’s truly delicious.”
She turned to Zhao Lü Liu.
“Sister Green Willow, try it. You won’t find this flavor in your manor.”
Zhao Lü Liu copied them, careful at first—then took another spoonful immediately. The humble, hearty taste was different from the refined dishes she was used to, yet it carried its own warmth, its own charm.
“It’s wonderful,” she said sincerely.
Yu Ning finally remembered the “serious matter” burning a hole in her sleeve. With exaggerated secrecy, she pulled out the carefully wrapped album and slid it toward Xiao Man like an offering.
“Sister Xiao Man, look!” she whispered dramatically. “Sister Green Willow brought something incredible!”
Xiao Man took it, amused, and opened it.
Portraits. Names. Positions. Backgrounds. Comments. Even gossip.
It was so bold, so shamelessly thorough, that for a moment she could only laugh.
She flipped through slowly. When familiar names appeared, surprise lit her eyes. When she reached the third ranking and saw Lin Qing Xuan labeled “innate buddha child,” her fingers paused—just a fraction—before she turned the page as if nothing had happened.
“This…” Xiao Man searched for a word that didn’t sound like scolding. “This is truly something.”
At last she smiled. “Miss Zhao has a clever mind and a brilliant brush.”
Zhao Lü Liu lifted her chin, pleased.
“It’s nothing. I just collected a little gossip and painted for fun.”
Yu Ning chattered excitedly, pointing at the pages as if they were treasure maps.
“Sister Xiao Man, look—this Scholar Xie is so handsome! And this little general Xiao—people say he’s incredible at riding and archery! Oh, and also—”
Her hand drifted dangerously close to Lin Qing Xuan’s page. Lin Yu Jiao tapped Yu Ning’s hand lightly and stopped her with a glance.
Yu Ning stuck her tongue out and hurriedly turned to another page.
“And this Censor Cui—people say he’s terrifyingly strict…”
Xiao Man listened to them laugh and argue, watching the album’s vivid figures pass beneath their fingertips. She felt both amused and faintly moved.
For these girls, bound by rules and courtyards, this was a kind of freedom—scandal and imagination pressed into a book.
She returned the album to Yu Ning gently.
“You’ve opened my eyes. Eat well. The kitchen still has warm soup—call for me if you want more.”
“Don’t go!” Yu Ning grabbed her sleeve. “Sit with us and chat!”
Before Xiao Man could escape, Lin Yu Wan arrived. Xiao Man immediately ladled her a bowl.
Lin Yu Wan tasted it and nodded, approval clear.
“Xiao Man, your cooking is excellent.”
Yu Ning shoved the album toward her eldest sister, practically vibrating with mischief.
“Eldest Sister, look. There are so many good-looking military officers. You’re at marrying age anyway—pick what type you like.”
Lin Yu Wan looked like someone enduring a child’s attempt to sell her a rabbit. She sighed, faintly pained. Marriage talk again—like choosing vegetables at market.
Besides, her heart already belonged elsewhere. No matter how fine a man looked on paper, he could not enter her eyes.
Still, she glanced through a couple pages to humor them, letting their laughter wash over her.
Xiao Man’s gaze drifted from the album to the table—and then she caught Zhao Lü Liu watching.
Not at the book.
At Lin Yu Wan.
The look was bright and intent, full of undisguised admiration… and something sharper beneath it, something that made Xiao Man’s thoughts stir.
Miss Zhao’s gaze on Eldest Miss did not look like the gaze of an ordinary boudoir friend at all.