CHAPTER 62: CHAPTER 60 WARMTH

The aroma of lamb wafted through the small courtyard.

Standing not far away, Chang An’s face showed no signs of change, but his stomach felt a little empty. Miss Xie’s cooking was truly excellent. The chicken soup from last time was particularly fragrant. Although they didn’t mention it, they had been thinking about it ever since.

If it weren’t for the strict rules of the master, Chang An would have gone over to take a look.

While Chang An and the others could still hold back, within the room, Cheng Yanzhao’s nose and mouth seemed to have grown legs, wholeheartedly heading towards the kitchen. After sitting for a while longer, his mind wandered off, to the extent that he didn’t even hear Song Xian speaking to him.

After speaking, Song Xian noticed that Cheng Yanzhao hadn’t responded and looked up at him, immediately seeing his distracted demeanor.

Isn’t this person supposed to have a poor appetite? What’s going on today?

"I’m talking to you," Song Xian’s voice rose slightly, expressing his displeasure.

About to get angry, Song Xian dragged Cheng Yanzhao back from the aroma. The important matters had already been discussed, and the rest weren’t urgent.

Cheng Yanzhao attempted to negotiate with Song Xian, "How about we discuss this after eating? We’ve been busy all day and are tired."

Song Xian replied coolly, "I’m not tired."

Cheng Yanzhao’s face fell, "I’m made of flesh and blood, unlike you."

Is he implying that he’s not human? Song Xian’s eyebrows rose, and his gaze was sharp as a knife.

A chill ran down Cheng Yanzhao’s spine, but having known Song Xian for a long time, he wasn’t easily scared. Boldly, he said, "What’s been up with you lately? Trying to gain control of the North isn’t something that can be done overnight." Recently, things have moved too quickly; while Song Xian remains fine, the rest of them have been run ragged.

Cheng Yanzhao continued, "How can you resist such a delightful aroma?"

Song Xian’s expression remained unchanged.

"I need to visit the lavatory." With one scheme foiled, Cheng Yanzhao devised another. Surely Song Xian wouldn’t let him wet his pants.

Upon opening the door, Cheng Yanzhao headed straight to the kitchen.

In the large pot in the kitchen, milky white soup was boiling. Cheng Yanzhao stood by, swallowing his saliva, his eyes seemingly glued to the pot.

Xie Liangchen saw Cheng Yanzhao’s expression and feared he might swallow the entire pot.

Xie Liangchen said, "It’s not ready yet. The meat isn’t tender."

"But the soup should be," Cheng Yanzhao said eagerly. "How about I taste it for A Xian first?"

It was as if the pot was filled with Song Xian’s own stew. Yet, Cheng Er always tasted it first. Xie Liangchen couldn’t refuse because Cheng Yanzhao stood in front of her, bowl in hand.

Xie Liangchen took a ladle and dipped it into the pot.

"Alright, alright, don’t pour it back. Just this much. Oh, I know you’re making it for A Xian. He’ll have enough." Cheng Yanzhao watched Xie Liangchen pour a little back into the pot, like a child whose candy had been taken, stomping his feet in complaint.

Song Xian could hear Cheng Yanzhao’s voice from the kitchen, like a starving ghost wailing. It’s one thing for him to howl, but he also drew Song Xian into it.

Truly embarrassing.

Song Xian quickly refocused on the documents. Having been reborn with knowledge, he often achieved more with less effort. However, thinking of those who died in the previous life due to wars, he couldn’t let their lives be lost again.

Thus, he accelerated his training of the troops, always prepared to make the first move. These things, Cheng Yanzhao naturally didn’t understand.

When Song Xian raised his head again, Xie Liangchen was pushing the door open, with Cheng Yanzhao following behind, carrying a tray.

"A Xian, it’s time to eat." Cheng Yanzhao’s smile was so warm it could melt him.

Xie Liangchen looked at Song Xian, who sat at the table, noticing how his gaze first landed on her before scanning the food on the table.

"I’ve braised lamb," Xie Liangchen said, "and added angelica, codonopsis." Since he had asked in detail before, this time she explained without waiting for him to speak.

"And sour jujube rice porridge."

Hearing her mention these, Song Xian felt transported back to his grandmother’s room, where medicinal meals were always served. His grandmother’s chronic illness plagued her, but what illness of his required such a diet?

Song Xian thought, yet he still stood and walked to the table.

Cheng Yanzhao could hardly wait and picked up the chopsticks, stuffing the lamb into his mouth, before reaching for the porridge.

"This is good," Cheng Yanzhao remarked about the rice porridge, "it’s sour, just to my taste."

"Sour?" Song Xian’s expression was calm, his voice devoid of emotion.

Xie Liangchen noticed Song Xian wasn’t too pleased, but she was prepared. She reached into the jar, poured some syrup over the rice porridge in front of Song Xian.

Her actions were seamless and flawless.

Song Xian looked across at Cheng Yanzhao, who seemed desperate to pour all the porridge down his throat. Every time Xie Liangchen cooked, it was precisely to Cheng Yanzhao’s taste.

Song Xian scooped a spoonful of rice porridge. As it entered his mouth, he immediately furrowed his brow.

Sour? Xie Liangchen thought that improbable. She had seen Song Xian’s spoonful had come from the syrup, so how sour could it be with so much syrup?

Most likely, he felt sour inside, deeming even sweetness ineffective.

"General Song, have some more rice porridge. This porridge has calming properties, and there are noodles in the kitchen," Xie Liangchen said, heading outside.

Before long, Xie Liangchen returned with a bowl of noodles, placing it before Song Xian.

Glancing at the bowl of noodles before him, the sour taste in his mouth seemed to dissipate considerably.

Only then did Song Xian pick up a piece of lamb and put it in his mouth. The lamb was tender, its flavor acceptable.

Seeing the creditor satisfied, Xie Liangchen began to discuss her matters, "General Song, I’ve found a caravan to transport medicinal herbs."

Song Xian did not speak, but Cheng Yanzhao was somewhat surprised, "I was planning to help you find a caravan to transport those herbs out of Zhenzhou to sell. I didn’t expect you had already arranged it."

Cheng Yanzhao began to believe Song Xian was right, finding a capable person wasn’t easy. Such intelligence and culinary skill, where else would one find that?

Xie Liangchen had approached Tian Chengyou, which Song Xian already knew.

Xie Liangchen responded, "The Tian Family doesn’t have enough silver coin to buy the herbs. I plan to go with Mr. Tian to the government office to draft a document."

Cheng Yanzhao didn’t quite grasp what Xie Liangchen meant.

But Song Xian understood, "Since Tian Chengyou agreed, he’ll find a way to handle it at the government office, allowing you to sign a document without anyone knowing.

Currently, you’re concerned that the herbs will be inspected by the city guards during transport."

"Yes," Xie Liangchen replied, "Now that the General has taken over the defense of Zhenzhou, I need the General’s assistance with this." The soldiers under Song Xian were uncompromising. Only by first discussing with Song Xian could they ensure smooth transport of goods out of Zhenzhou City.

To fully seize the initiative, at least getting the herbs out of Xingzhou was crucial. Without Song Xian’s escort along the way, achieving that would be difficult.

Xie Liangchen wasn’t afraid Song Xian would refuse. Nowadays, there were too many merchants in the North, and who knew if spies were among them. If a commotion could be stirred up, leading to a purge of merchants, why wouldn’t Song Xian relish the opportunity?

The lamb and noodles settled in his stomach, warming him considerably.

Song Xian said blandly, "I understand."

Perhaps it was being full, but Song Xian’s voice lacked its usual coldness.

He looked at Xie Liangchen, "Is there more lamb in the pot?"

Xie Liangchen replied, "There is."

Song Xian instructed Chang An, "Take some back to the old lady."

Chang An stepped out.

Once again, Song Xian’s gaze rested on Xie Liangchen, "Make another pot."

Xie Liangchen was taken aback. Why was that? Did Song Xian not get enough to eat?