Chapter 88

This was too much.
Really too much.
They had shared four good years together, and now, on this rare reunion, he couldn’t even offer her a decent meal.
In truth, Yan Yiming wasn’t particularly picky, so among such a spread, there should have been something she could eat. But no!
The perfectly prepared West Lake vinegar fish was inexplicably garnished with perilla leaves. The tender, milky-white soup was sprinkled with finely chopped cilantro. Every dish seemed to deliberately hit a nerve, touching on things she had always refused to eat. The visual and olfactory assault made her want to turn around and leave.
But she simply couldn’t.
Jiang Yi was clearly doing this on purpose.
She could skip the things she liked, but eating what she disliked, Yan Yiming glanced at the vibrant green cilantro, its scent seeming to waft to her nostrils.
Just then, Jiang Yi noticed her staring at the ginseng chicken soup and proactively served her a bowl, saying naturally, “My late wife once said that drinking soup before a meal is better than good medicine. Though this soup is ordinary, having a taste before the meal can help with digestion.”
Back then, Jiang Yi had been small and frail, and Yan Yiming had tried every means to nourish him. Whenever they dined together, she would always make him drink a bowl of ginseng chicken soup first, casually repeating this saying.
Even if she hadn’t said it, Jiang Yi would have obediently complied. But after hearing it, his eyes would shine brighter than usual. In those days, a bowl of chicken soup, a walnut, or a date, each was a token of her care, and Jiang Yi had treasured them all in his heart.
Unfortunately, Yan Yiming only drifted into nostalgia for a fleeting moment before the pungent cilantro reclaimed her attention. She could only try to divert her focus and shamelessly continue the conversation with Jiang Yi, saying, “So there’s such a story.” Your wife was truly knowledgeable.”
Jiang Yi looked at her, nodded, and chuckled softly, “Yes, she certainly knew a lot.”
Yan Yiming cleared her throat lightly. “If I ever have the chance, I’d love to meet your wife.”
Jiang Yi's smile faded slightly, his gaze dimming for a moment. After a long pause, he finally said, “My wife has passed away.”
“Ah,” Yan Yiming gasped involuntarily, her face instantly showing remorse. She immediately apologized, her eyes filled with such genuine regret that not a trace of pretense could be detected.
Jiang Yi withdrew his gaze and forced a strained smile. “It's alright, Princess. Please, enjoy your meal.”
Yan Yiming: “...”
After all that talking, she still had to eat this meal.
A true warrior dares to face a bleak life. Summoning her courage, she braved the soul-crushing cilantro and, under Jiang Yi's watchful eyes, took a sip of the chicken soup. “It's truly delicious,” she praised, then calmly took a second sip.
Little A could sense its host's inner resistance at that moment, but it also noticed the flicker of surprise in Jiang Yi's eyes, which soon faded into gloom. Unable to bear the sight, it averted its gaze.
One person struggled to swallow their discomfort, while the other clung to hope and cautiously tested the waters, who, exactly, was tormenting whom?
Jiang Yi suddenly felt somewhat ridiculous. How could he have entertained such an absurd possibility? He had never believed in ghosts or gods.
He had simply been without her for too long, alone for too long, and had indulged in these unrealistic thoughts for so long that he had nearly lost his mind. What was he even hoping for?
She had always been straightforward by nature, things she disliked, she would never touch.
But Jiang Yi would never have imagined that someone who had experienced battlefields and life-and-death situations would have many dislikes, yet could also force herself to endure many things.
Not a trace of distaste showed on Yan Yiming's face. Those things she would never have touched before were now being consumed without so much as a change in expression.
For a moment, Jiang Yi felt like laughing, but no laughter came. Instead, as he lifted his eyes, his gaze fell upon her hand, and he froze once again.
He already knew he was overthinking things, yet familiar similarities kept appearing before him unintentionally.
Lady Jiang had often scolded her daughter, asking why she suddenly held her chopsticks so strangely. A'Ming, with her peculiar grip, would retort indifferently, “As long as I can eat with them, what does it matter?”
Her way of holding chopsticks resembled how one might hold a brush. Lan Xiu had once teased her, saying her tight grip surely made her less agile than others. Unwilling to accept this, she had someone fill a plate with pearls and challenged Lan Xiu to a contest of picking them up with chopsticks.
Jiang Yi sat by, watching her childlike antics, and the way she raised her eyebrows and smiled after actually defeating Lan Xiu, it was a memory he had never forgotten.
Among the children of noble families, every mannerism, from sitting to reclining, was practiced from childhood. The posture for drinking tea and the etiquette for eating were all rigidly enforced. Aside from A'Ming, the princess before him was the second person he had seen who did not know how to use chopsticks properly.
Unfortunately, this time, even Yan Yiming herself remained unaware and unreflective.
After all, in modern times, countless people held chopsticks as awkwardly as she did, and she happened to be one of them. She never considered herself unusual in this regard, so it never occurred to her that this was something worth noting.
Yet, there was someone who had engraved her every word, action, and gesture deeply in his heart, remembered every detail of her clearly, and now recognized her differences with startling clarity.
The same awkward grip, the same height at which she held her chopsticks.
A single oversight in an otherwise flawless plan.
Underestimating the persistence in someone's heart always comes with a price.
It's a pity Yan Yiming had to endure eating so many unpalatable things, only for a pair of chopsticks to stir up suspicion once again.
Jiang Yi sighed, his gaze falling on Yan Yiming's face. For some reason, he now seemed to detect a hint of reluctance in her unflinching expression.
He felt no anger, only a sense of pity.
Jiang Yi set down his chopsticks, the light clink against the bowl making a soft sound. Yan Yiming looked up slightly surprised, “What's wrong?”
“It doesn't taste good. Perhaps the chef didn't get the heat right,” Jiang Yi said. “I had intended to treat the princess to some delicacies, but it turned out like this.”
Yan Yiming was puzzled by Jiang Yi's sudden change in attitude. She racked her brains but couldn't figure out where she might have given herself away. In the end, she could only assume that Jiang Yi had finally stopped suspecting her and thus lost interest.
If that were the case, it would be for the best. If there was another reason, she couldn't think of it now. After enduring such torment, being able to put down her chopsticks openly was still a great relief.
“I think it's quite good,” Yan Yiming said, her words contradicting her thoughts. “It seems the chefs in Lord Jiang's residence are too exceptional, making the dishes here seem hard to swallow. If there's a chance...”
Jiang Yi let out a meaningful chuckle. “If there's a chance, I'd like to invite the princess and Lord Wei to taste the skills of the chefs in my residence.”
Yan Yiming: ...
I was just saying it casually, why did you have to take it seriously?
And shouldn't Jiang Yi have given up by now?
Frowning, Yan Yiming felt that things weren't quite as she had imagined, yet she couldn't pinpoint any flaws.
Wei Xiongjie couldn't understand why he had been sent away while Yan Yiming had tea and a meal with Jiang Yi, but he didn't dare disobey her orders. It wasn't until he saw Yan Yiming and Jiang Yi emerge from the teahouse together that he hurried forward.
Both of them were lost in their own thoughts, yet they maintained an appearance as if nothing had happened. Wei Xiongjie couldn't detect any clues from their expressions and could only bid farewell to Jiang Yi before following Yan Yiming back.
As the carriage began to move, Wei Xiongjie couldn't resist glancing back, only to meet Jiang Yi's gaze.
The man's previously calm eyes were now fixed intently on Yan Yiming's carriage, carrying a weight that was startlingly intense. Even when their eyes met, the storm in his gaze did not subside.
Wei Xiongjie felt a chill in his heart, but when he looked again, all he saw was Jiang Yi's tall, slender figure.
What on earth had happened between them?