Chapter 121: The Gentleman Stays Away from the Kitchen

Fujiwara no Suemio lingered at Zhen Qian’s residence with a thick-skinned air, wandering about as if he owned the place. Finding not even a single elegant imitation to admire, he eventually requested brush, ink, paper, and an inkstone, meticulously transcribing the poem "Inscription on My Humble Abode" onto a scroll, savoring it with an air of profound appreciation.

Meanwhile, Li Cui had lost all interest in wine and poetry. While waiting for the princess to arrive, he inspected the "steam room" Zhen Qian had described. It was much like a sauna of later generations; upon seeing the room filled with dry, heated air, he nodded in satisfaction, feeling even more confident in Zhen Qian’s ability to cure his daughter’s cold.

However, Li Cui was deeply dissatisfied with the furnishings in Zhen Qian’s room. Not a single valuable ornament could be found; there were no carved beams or painted pillars, nor even a single piece of calligraphy or painting to satisfy his desire for refinement. The desk held only a few copies of the court gazette. He had expected to see a room brimming with books and manuscripts, and he was left thoroughly disappointed.

"With such crude surroundings, can this really be called your 'Humble Abode'?"

Zhen Qian curled his lip and smiled, too lazy to offer an explanation.

"I shall borrow this central courtyard for the time being. You have no objections, do you?"

I certainly do, but could I ever say it to your face?

Zhen Qian was treated like refuse and shooed into the front yard. A group of matrons and maids transformed the room as if by magic: light gauze curtains and sandalwood incense filled the air with a cloying fragrance. Exquisite vases, jade-carved screens, lamps made of crystal and jade, and pearl-strung curtains adorned the space. Beside the bed hung a tent of shark-silk, embroidered with silver threads and hawthorn blossoms that shimmered with every breeze, as if one were drifting through a mist-covered mountain range. On the couch lay a cool jade pillow, a soft silk mat, and an embroidered quilt. A massive pearl hung from the center of the ceiling, glowing with a soft, lunar radiance. The entire floor was covered in a five-colored carpet embedded with gold beads, with ground-in lotus patterns so lifelike that even the stamens were visible; stepping on them barefoot felt warm and smooth, as they were carved from Lantian warm jade. It was a display of extravagance that rivaled the legendary "golden lotus" steps of Pan Yu’er.

Zhen Qian had never seen such painstaking, exquisite luxury.

He smacked his lips, feeling a tightness in his chest. Having seen five-star hotels, he found this place—when compared—to be embarrassingly opulent; every single item inside would be worth millions in the future.

He had heard that the late-Tang imperial clan, having lost their political power, had become even more decadent and extravagant, squandering countless treasures like flowing water. But for a temporary stopover, was such expense truly necessary?

Regardless, Zhen Qian was stunned by the luxury before him. He had never imagined a room could be decorated this way—the Dragon Palace of the East Sea could hardly be any better.

He wondered how much of the people's blood and sweat had been squandered to pay for this. Seeing Li Cui’s indifferent expression, Zhen Qian felt a pang of heartache as if his own flesh were being carved away, especially when he looked at that night-luminescent pearl the size of a melon, worth millions of coins. If he could only steal it, he would never have to worry about buying hundreds of thousands of bushels of grain again.

But it was just a passing thought; he quickly dismissed the idea of robbery.

Zhen Qian sniffed the air. "Your Highness, while sandalwood incense can relieve cold-induced stagnation, chest pain, and abdominal pain, it is contraindicated for those with yin-deficiency and excessive fire. It is detrimental to the Princess’s cold-fever condition..."

Li Cui followed his advice readily: "Then remove all the sandalwood incense!"

The Princess was carried into the Zhen residence in a warm sedan chair by several matrons. She wore a veil to avoid the prying eyes of the lecherous, and as she passed by Zhen Qian, a rich, fragrant breeze wafted into his nostrils.

"Your Highness, patients are most sensitive at this time..." Zhen Qian wanted to mention that heavy makeup and perfume were ill-advised, but he softened his tone: "It is best to avoid stimulating scents; a natural, unadorned appearance is preferable."

Li Cui’s thoughts were entirely consumed by his daughter. He waved a hand impatiently and said, "You are the physician now; do whatever you must!"

The people around him gave Zhen Qian no opportunity to get close to the Princess. He had hoped to see if she was a beauty or a hag—this was his first chance to encounter an imperial princess—but he caught only a fleeting glimpse. Beyond noticing her slender frame, he didn't even see her hands. They were clearly guarding against a predator!

The security around the Princess had reached the point of guarding against thieves, robbers, and Zhen Qian himself. Even if he were a renowned physician, he would have no way to examine her, let alone prescribe the right medicine.

Zhen Qian suddenly regretted taking on the case. What did the Princess’s life or death have to do with him? If the Great Tang had one less princess, perhaps there would be less taxation and a few more families could survive.

He briefly felt the urge to let the Princess perish, though he knew that was just a fleeting thought; killing her in his own home would be incredibly foolish. Subconsciously, even though he didn't believe in ghosts or gods, he felt a sliver of awe toward the divine. He decided to treat it as an act of accumulating hidden merit.

Ju Niang was assigned to bathe the Princess and feed her medicine. Zhen Qian, the quack doctor, could only stand by and bark orders, though no one paid him any mind.

Li Cui paced back and forth like a headless fly, making Zhen Qian dizzy. Fujiwara no Suemio tried to engage him in a discussion about poetry, only to be shoved aside by Li Cui: "Master Zhen, how certain are you of the Princess’s recovery?"

Zhen Qian had heard this question countless times. Even a master physician couldn't guarantee success, let alone a fraud like himself.

"Your Highness, please sit and have a cup of tea to calm your spirit. A chaotic mind breeds illness, while a calm mind resolves it. Anxiety is the greatest enemy. The Princess has just taken her medicine and entered the steam room; there is nothing more anyone can do. Success or failure now depends on the Princess's own fate."

Li Cui flopped onto the heated kang and reached for a cup, only to find it empty. "That 'Mandarin Duck' hotpot from earlier was excellent. I feel hungry—bring me a few jars of that 'Erguotou' you mentioned!"

He really was treating this place like his own home!

Zhen Qian was rendered speechless. He had only cooked at the beginning, but once he taught his apprentice, his own laziness took over. Now that Ju Niang was busy tending to the Princess, the cooking duties fell back on his shoulders.

He was utterly unwilling. Why should he serve this father and daughter as if he owed the Li family a debt? May they choke on it!

Despite his frustration, Zhen Qian had to pinch his nose and head to the kitchen. Fujiwara no Suemio followed him like a shadow, showering praise on Zhen Qian’s cooking skills: "I never expected Master Zhen to be so talented in literature and equally skilled in the culinary arts. However, a gentleman stays away from the kitchen; why bother with such a lowly trade?"

A lowly trade? If there were no cooks to prepare your food, you’d be eating dung!

"The saying 'the gentleman stays away from the kitchen' refers to a gentleman’s refusal to kill, so as to preserve his sense of compassion; it has nothing to do with the act of cooking itself. The difference between man and beast is minimal; the common folk cast it aside, but the gentleman preserves it. A gentleman cultivates his 'vast, flowing qi'—that noble spirit and integrity filled with benevolence and righteousness. Killing and witnessing blood can dampen that spirit. To be a gentleman is to value righteousness over profit, to be loyal to one's sovereign, and to dedicate one's learning to the service of the world..."

Fujiwara no Suemio looked ashamed. "Hearing your words is worth more than ten years of study. I have misinterpreted the meaning of the sages!"

Keep talking... I’ll lecture you into the ground, you little fool!