Chapter 210 - 209: Cooking for Husband

"I have the list!" Bai Chen announced, waving the parchment triumphantly in the air, his grin so wide it nearly split his face in two.

Bai Qingyue immediately stopped stirring the boiling water and wheeled herself over to him, her eyes bright with anticipation. "What did he say? Was he suspicious? Did you make it sound natural?"

"I am a master of espionage, Cousin, he suspects absolutely nothing," Bai Chen lied smoothly, handing her the parchment with the flourish of a man presenting a battlefield report. "But you are not going to believe what he asked for. It isn’t spiritual food at all."

Bai Qingyue took the parchment, reading over the hastily scrawled notes. Her brow furrowed in concentration, her fingers smoothing the crumpled edges flat against her lap.

"Lanzhou hand-pulled noodles. Roujiamo. Peking duck. Feline marrow stew," she read aloud, her voice slowing over each word as though tasting it. Her initial confusion quickly melted into a deep, profound tenderness. She traced the words with her fingertips, a soft, disbelieving smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "It is so simple. So incredibly grounded. He has conquered the various peaks of cultivation, yet his heart still yearns for the warmth of a mortal hearth."

She looked up at Bai Chen, her determination blazing brighter than ever, the earlier softness in her expression hardening into something far more resolute.

"We are going to make this perfectly, Chen’er," she declared. "Go to the palace storehouses immediately. I need the finest flour they have. I also need dark soy, star anise, and fresh scallions. And tell the hunters in the outer courtyard to procure the bones of a feline beast, something formidable, but not highly toxic."

"I am on it!" Bai Chen saluted, already turning toward the supply doors, his boots skidding briefly against the polished stone in his hurry. "I think I saw some fresh Mountain-Tiger bones in the ice-cellars yesterday!"

For the next four hours, the grand kitchen of the eastern pavilion was a whirlwind of frantic, joyous activity. Steam curled from every corner of the room, and the clatter of pots and the rhythmic thud of a cleaver against a chopping board filled the air like an unlikely, cheerful sort of music.

"Chen’er, the dough must be pulled thinner!" Bai Qingyue instructed, leaning over the counter from her wheelchair, dusting the marble with white flour that drifted down like fine snow. "If the noodles are too thick, they will not absorb the broth properly!"

"I am trying, Cousin, I am trying!" Bai Chen groaned, his face covered in a fine layer of flour, his hands working desperately to stretch the elastic dough without breaking it, sweat beading at his temple despite the coolness of the kitchen air. "I can sever a boulder with my sword, why is this flour fighting me like a Nascent Soul expert?!"

"Because baking requires patience, not killing intent!" she laughed, the sound bright and unguarded, reaching out to guide his hands. "Here, fold it like this. Let the gravity do the work. Do not force it."

Across the kitchen, the hearth roared with a controlled, steady heat. A massive iron pot bubbled furiously, the rich, heavy scent of feline marrow and star anise filling the air, mingling beautifully with the sharp, savory aroma of roasting duck, until the entire pavilion smelled less like a cultivator’s kitchen and more like the warm, crowded heart of some bustling mortal city street.

"How is the Roujiamo meat looking?" Bai Qingyue asked, wiping a smudge of flour from her cheek with the back of her wrist, leaving a fresh streak in its place.

Bai Chen hurried over to a smaller clay pot, lifting the heavy lid. A cloud of incredibly fragrant steam billowed out, curling up toward the rafters. "It is falling apart just by looking at it, Cousin. It smells unbelievable. I am honestly tempted to eat it myself."

"If you touch his food before he does, I will personally throw you into the Void Ascension Battlefield," she threatened playfully, though the warmth in her eyes betrayed the joke, and a small laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

They worked side by side, their conversation flowing naturally as they prepared the meal. They talked about their childhood in the Bai Clan, the rare moments of peace they had shared before Bai Qingyue’s meridians were shattered, and the almost unbelievable reality of the lives they now lived. Every so often one of them would pause mid-sentence to laugh, or to wipe away a stray tear brought on by the sting of chopped scallions, though neither of them was entirely certain it was only the scallions to blame. For a brief moment, all the burdens of cultivation and the dangers of the outside world seemed distant. They looked less like cultivators and more like an ordinary sister and brother, quietly working together in the kitchen to prepare a meal for the man they both loved.

By the time the afternoon sun began to dip toward the horizon, casting long, orange shadows across the kitchen floor, the meal was finally complete.

Bai Qingyue meticulously arranged the dishes on a massive, intricately carved tray of dark mahogany, her movements slow and careful, as though the tray carried something far more precious than food. The Lanzhou noodles sat in a deep porcelain bowl, the broth crystal clear and radiating a savory warmth that fogged faintly against the cooler evening air. The Roujiamo was stacked neatly on a jade plate, the crispy bread giving way to the tender, dark-braised meat within. The Peking duck was sliced with razor-thin precision, its skin glistening perfectly, each piece catching the last of the sunlight like polished amber. And in a heavy iron bowl, the feline marrow stew bubbled lazily, emitting a rich, fierce aroma that promised warmth all the way down to the bone.

"It looks perfect, Cousin," Bai Chen whispered, wiping his hands on an apron that was now more flour than fabric, standing back to admire their work with genuine pride. "He is going to love it."

"Thank you, Chen’er," Bai Qingyue said softly, looking at her cousin with profound gratitude, her eyes glistening in the fading light. "I could not have done this without you."

"Anytime," Bai Chen grinned, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Now, go feed him before I actually lose my mind and steal that duck."

Lin Yuan had concluded his meditation and returned to the master suite. He was standing by the open balcony doors, watching the city lights begin to flicker to life in the encroaching twilight, one by one like scattered embers settling across the darkening streets, when the heavy doors of the chamber slowly glided open.

He turned, the stoic mask of the sovereign entirely absent from his face, replaced instead by something quieter and far more affectionate.

Bai Qingyue wheeled herself into the room, a large mahogany tray resting securely across her lap. Despite the exertion, she looked incredibly radiant. There was a faint smudge of white flour near her hairline, and her eyes were bright with a nervous, eager anticipation that made Lin Yuan’s heart constrict with overwhelming affection. The savory aroma trailing in with her reached him a moment before she did, warm and unmistakably familiar.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Husband," Bai Qingyue said, a playful, formal lilt in her voice as she steered the wheelchair toward the center of the room, unable to fully hide the small, hopeful smile tugging at her lips. "But I’m here with your meal."