Chapter 117
Chapter 117: A Dimension-Crushing Blow from Another World
Xiao Man set her bowl down and looked across the table, voice light with a smile.
“Miss Zhao.”
Zhao Lü Liu turned, still faintly flushed from excitement and soup.
“I’m your loyal reader,” Xiao Man said. “The storybooks you published—I bought every one.”
Zhao Lü Liu visibly brightened. Praise from another woman carried its own sweet weight—especially from someone whose cooking could make winter feel kinder.
Xiao Man tilted her head, curiosity measured and perfectly timed.
“Aside from the Buddhist Scion one… I heard the others were based on real events?”
Zhao Lü Liu’s eyes gleamed. Fed and flattered, her mouth loosened easily. She lowered her voice, taking on the air of someone sharing priceless secrets.
“That’s true,” she admitted. “The Buddhist Scion one was pure artistic imagination on my part. But the other two? Every plot twist, every detail—I paid heavy silver to pry them out of servants’ mouths.”
She sipped tea, thoroughly pleased with herself.
“Take ‘Prince’s Manor Deep Courts: The Concubine Is as Delicate as a Blossom.’ I spent a fortune on that. The source was the personal head maid beside the most favored concubine in Prince Jing’s manor.”
Yu Ning gasped, delighted. “Wow!”
Zhao Lü Liu waved a hand, then clicked her tongue with a warning.
“But don’t get too addicted. Prince Jing is far too ‘affectionate.’ Anyone he fancies, he treasures like gold—for a time. A few days ago he married a new favored concubine.”
Lin Yu Jiao frowned, baffled. “What about his legal wife? If he takes concubines like that, wouldn’t the main wife be furious? My mother never allowed Father to take even one.”
Zhao Lü Liu snorted.
“He hasn’t even married a proper princess consort yet. With his reputation, the Emperor will probably assign him one in the end. Right now in the capital, any family that’s even halfway decent—and truly loves its daughter—who would willingly send her into that blazing kang?”
The sheer amount of gossip made the sisters stare.
Yu Ning’s eyes filled with stars. She looked at Zhao Lü Liu with worship.
“Sister Zhao, with you around, who needs a matchmaker? Your news is far more accurate than theirs!”
Xiao Man smiled and gently caught the thread, drawing it forward.
“Then what about ‘Little Cook and Big General’? I heard a more interesting rumor.”
The table leaned toward her at once.
Xiao Man paused—a heartbeat, just enough.
“I heard you nearly got beaten on the spot for that one.”
All three misses snapped their attention to Zhao Lü Liu.
Zhao Lü Liu’s cheeks reddened. She laughed awkwardly.
“Ah… that.”
She set her cup down and launched in, half embarrassed, half proud.
“I wanted a deep investigation. I tried to get in touch with the general’s manor kitchen people, to understand the whole story properly. Who would’ve expected that general to be sharp as a hunting dog? He caught me on the spot and treated me like a spy.”
Yu Ning doubled over laughing.
“Sister Zhao, you truly are the number-one madwoman for art!”
Lin Yu Jiao leaned in, eyes shining.
“What happened next? Did he hit you?”
“No,” Zhao Lü Liu said quickly, patting her chest as if the memory still thumped there. “But I nearly died of fright. For convenience, I dressed as a man. The moment he grabbed me—his hand was like a fan—my hair tie came loose, and my hair fell everywhere.”
She acted it out, and the room burst into fresh laughter.
“When he realized I was a woman, he loosened his grip, but his face turned even blacker. He said he’d drag me straight to the authorities.”
Yu Ning slapped her thigh. “At a time like that, what did you do?”
Zhao Lü Liu raised her hands, shameless.
“I still looked.”
“Looked at what?” Lin Yu Jiao demanded.
“At the heroine,” Zhao Lü Liu said, as if it were obvious. “The little cook from my storybook—the real one. She ran out to stop him. And yes, I took a moment to judge. She’s quite pretty, gentle and obedient. No wonder the general likes her.”
Yu Ning groaned in despair. “Sister Zhao!”
“Occupational hazard,” Zhao Lü Liu said calmly. “Anyway, I revealed my identity. I said I was the second legitimate daughter of the Minister of War. And what did that little general do? He laughed. He said I was daydreaming and that I didn’t have a shred of a sheltered lady about me. I was so angry I nearly argued with him for three hundred rounds.”
Her indignation was so vivid that even Lin Yu Wan’s mouth tugged.
Zhao Lü Liu continued, voice rising with drama.
“Thankfully I had a backup plan. I’d arranged for my maid—and two hired escorts—to show up and prove who I was. Otherwise, even if I jumped into the Yellow River, I couldn’t wash it clean.”
“And then?” Lin Yu Jiao pressed.
“Then the general still didn’t believe it,” Zhao Lü Liu said, spreading her hands. “He insisted on sending me back to the Zhao Manor. I knew I was doomed. If I went home, my parents would lock me up. So I swallowed my pride and begged. In the end, that little cook was kind-hearted and pleaded for me, saying it was better to let it go. Only then did he let me leave, face black as ink.”
For a beat, the tea room fell silent—stunned by the sheer brazenness of it.
Then, as if by agreement, they spoke at once:
“That little general was right. What sheltered lady acts like you!”
The room erupted. Even Lin Yu Wan looked helplessly amused.
“You,” Lin Yu Wan said with a sigh that was half laughter, “for a storybook, you truly aren’t afraid of anything.”
Xiao Man waited for the laughter to settle before she spoke, voice gentle but firm.
“Miss Zhao, digging into people’s private matters like this may be for a story, but it’s risky. If you run into someone who takes it seriously, you could end up in legal trouble—and then it won’t be as simple as being beaten.”
Zhao Lü Liu sobered, nodding slowly. For once, she looked as if she were weighing consequences instead of scenes.
Xiao Man’s eyes softened with a spark that didn’t belong to this era. The corner of her mouth lifted, faintly mysterious.
“I do have a few ideas. Would Miss Zhao like to hear them?”
The moment “ideas” entered the air, Zhao Lü Liu lit up like a candle touched to flame. She leaned forward, practically vibrating.
“Sister Xiao Man, speak! I’m all ears!”
Xiao Man cleared her throat, a familiar old drama rising in her mind like a remembered melody.
“In Jiang Nan,” she began, “there were two misses who married on the same day. One was the daughter of a martial instructor in the north of the city—sweet and adorable, but unable to read or write. The other was the daughter of a wealthy merchant in the east—educated, sensible, gentle.”
“On the wedding day, rain poured down. Both bridal processions took shelter in the same temple. In the chaos, when the rain finally stopped… the sedan chairs were carried to the wrong homes.”
She painted it with just enough detail to make it live: the wrong bride carried into the strict, deep General’s Manor; the refined bride delivered into a lively martial household; the misunderstandings, the laughter; the way each girl, forced into a new world, learned to survive—and even shine.
Yu Ning stared, awestruck. “A mistake could turn out that perfectly?”
Lin Yu Jiao clapped softly. “It’s wonderful. Deep-manor rules and common-house liveliness, and in the end everyone finds their place. It’s perfect.”
Zhao Lü Liu grabbed Xiao Man’s hand, eyes blazing.
“Brilliant! This ‘Wrong Palanquin Wedding’ twist—pure genius. Sister Xiao Man, you’re my muse, my lucky star!”
Xiao Man smiled, then added, as if casually laying another match to the fire, “There’s another story. Bigger in scope—about immortal clan matters.”
The room went still, as if even the steam paused to listen.
“It’s a love that spans three lives and three worlds,” Xiao Man said. “The heroine is Bai Qian, a devoted nine-tailed fox high god. The hero is Ye Hua, the cold and proud crown prince of the celestial clan…”
She spoke of Qing Qiu’s peach-blossom paradise, the solemn grandeur of the Ninefold Heavens, the cruel decisiveness of the immortal-slaying platform, the fate-bound weight of the Dong Huang Bell. Sweetness and heartbreak braided together until it felt as if the air itself tightened.
Even Lin Yu Wan, who had listened quietly until now, couldn’t help asking, eyes bright with shock and longing, “Stories like this… about immortals?”
Yu Ning and Lin Yu Jiao clutched Xiao Man’s arms like children afraid the tale would vanish if they blinked.
“Sister, this is incredible. It’s tragic and grand—I have goosebumps!”
Zhao Lü Liu was already pacing, muttering fragments under her breath, eyes burning with creation.
“Wrong Palanquin Wedding… immortal-and-mortal love… three lives, three worlds…”
She spun back to Xiao Man and seized her hands, grip strong enough to show how violently her heart was surging.
“Sister Xiao Man! Where do these stories come from? You’re a treasure mine that never runs dry. You must tell me more!”
Xiao Man tapped her temple with one finger, playful.
“In here, there are more. It’s just…”
She dragged out the last word.
Zhao Lü Liu’s “business brain” clicked into place without hesitation.
“I understand.”
She grinned—sharp, delighted, hungry.
“You provide the ideas. I provide the silver.”
At that moment, the way Zhao Lü Liu looked at Xiao Man was no longer the way one looked at a cook. It was the way one looked at a goose that could lay golden eggs.
Then, as if she couldn’t help herself, she stole another glance at Lin Yu Wan—warm poise edged with fierce grace—and the yearning in her eyes deepened, unmistakable.
Zhao Lü Liu made her decision on the spot: from now on, she would visit the Auspicious Cloud Residence often—no, every day.
The tea room burned with excitement, thick with stories and possibility.
And the noodle-fish soup slowly cooling in their bowls suddenly seemed like the least important thing in the world.