Chapter 27: Li Shimin’s Bitter Regret

Opposite him, Wei Zheng stood clad in scarlet robes, holding two rolls of official documents. His eyes, keen as a demon-revealing mirror^[1], fixed intently upon the poorly concealed fake mustache on Li Shimin’s chin.

“Fang Xuanling… no, Xuancheng^[2].”

Li Shimin wanted to rip the fake mustache off, but felt it would be too undignified. He could only force an awkward laugh. “What a coincidence! I… I am out for a stroll.”

Wei Zheng did not take the bait. His gaze swept from the cloth cap atop Li Shimin’s head down to the cloth shoes on his feet.

“Does taking a stroll require dressing as a palace attendant?”

“Isn’t this… for convenience?”

Li Shimin clasped his hands behind his back, trying to recover some imperial dignity, but this outfit simply failed to support the act. “I wished to visit the Palace Domestic Service to see whether the palace staff are suffering from heatstroke in this sweltering weather, or if there is a shortage of ice. Showing compassion for underlings is, after all, benevolent governance.”

Wei Zheng raised an eyebrow.

Like hell I believe that.

“Since Your Majesty is so compassionate toward your subordinates, that works out wonderfully.”

Wei Zheng took a step forward, directly blocking the only path to the Imperial Kitchen. “This subject just received an urgent report from Henan Circuit. A drought has persisted for months without a single drop of rain, and the people have been reduced to the tragedy of trading children to eat. I was fretting over how to report this to Your Majesty. Since Your Majesty is minded to show compassion, let us discuss this disaster relief.”

Li Shimin’s scalp tingled with dread.

He had just reviewed the memorial from Henan Circuit this morning, approving grain and dispatching officials.

Wei Zheng was doing this completely on purpose!

“Well… Xuancheng, why don’t we discuss this during tomorrow’s morning court?” Li Shimin cast a glance toward the Imperial Kitchen.

If he did not go now, even the daylilies would be cold^[3]; forget the corn pancake, not even a corn husk would be left.

“The people’s livelihood is full of hardship. How can it be delayed?”

Wei Zheng kept a stern face, sitting straight down onto a nearby stone bench and patting the empty space beside him. “Your Majesty, please.”

With this posture, he was not going to let Li Shimin leave until they had talked through everything.

Li Shimin ground his teeth in frustration.

But this old man was a stubborn mule. If Li Shimin forced his way out now, the old fellow would likely bash his head against the pillars of Liangyi Hall tomorrow.

“Fine. Let’s talk.”

Li Shimin sat down with gritted teeth. “Just a couple of sentences.”

A couple of sentences?

Once Wei Zheng opened the floodgates of conversation, words poured forth like the waters of the Yellow River descending from the heavens.

From the drought in Henan Circuit to the locust plagues in Shandong Circuit, from water conservancy to bureaucratic administration, he even cited classics and histories, dragging out Emperor Yang of Sui^[4]‘s ruinous indulgence in pleasure to flog the corpse once more.

“…Your Majesty must take history as a mirror and cut palace expenses wherever possible. Recently, this subject has heard of extravagant habits spreading through the inner palace: ice mountains, exotic foods! Such trends must not be encouraged.”

Wei Zheng sprayed spittle as he spoke.

Li Shimin sat there as if nails were prickling beneath his backside.

The sun sank little by little, the clouds on the horizon turning from golden yellow to fiery red, then slowly darkening.

The fragrance drifting from the Imperial Kitchen had long been dispersed by the evening breeze.

The gluttonous worms in Li Shimin’s belly went from roaring at first to whimpering, until they finally gave up entirely, curling into a ball and playing dead.

“Xuancheng speaks rightly. You are completely correct.”

Li Shimin nodded mechanically, but his heart was bleeding.

My golden pancake. My bursting… whatever-beans.

Finally, twilight deepened into night.

Wei Zheng seemed tired of talking, or perhaps felt he had met his lecturing quota for the day. He stood up, adjusted his robes and cap, and bowed deeply toward Li Shimin.

“That Your Majesty can heed harsh yet loyal counsel is truly a blessing for the state. The hour is late, so this subject will no longer delay Your Majesty from… observing the people’s condition.”

With that, paying no heed to Li Shimin’s face that was as dark as the bottom of a pot, the old man swept his wide sleeves and took his leave with flair.

Watching Wei Zheng’s retreating back, Li Shimin drew a deep breath, nearly choking on his own fury.

That old rogue! He had definitely done that on purpose!

By the time Li Shimin rushed to the backyard of the Imperial Kitchen, the moon had already climbed above the treetops.

The place was remote, without even a single lantern.

By the light of the moon, he could see the battered wooden door left half-open.

Li Shimin crept forward with light steps and pushed the door open.

The courtyard was dead silent, without a soul in sight.

At the foot of the wall, the legendary slide stood quietly, casting a long shadow on the ground.

The stove had long gone cold, and the pot was covered tight.

Only a lingering sweetness, mingled with the aroma of grease and toasted grain, still drifted faintly in the air, reminding any visitor of what a magnificent feast had once taken place here.

Unwilling to give up, Li Shimin walked over to the stove and lifted the lid.

It was scrubbed cleaner than a freshly washed face.

Forget crispy corn pancakes; not even a droplet of oil remained.

He turned to rummage through the bamboo basket nearby.

Empty.

All that remained was the ground strewn with stripped husks, alongside a pile of white cobs gnawed so clean that not a single kernel was left behind.

The cobs were piled into a small mountain, showing just how fierce the battle had been.

“This…”

Li Shimin picked up a bare cob and inspected it closely in the moonlight. It had some heft to it, white in the center with a ring of indentations, and it still carried a faint, sweet aroma.

Was this the so-called “corn”?

Could it really produce such a golden delicacy?

“Snore–!“

A steady, rhythmic snore drifted from the corner.

Li Shimin looked in the direction of the sound.

Strung between two old scholar trees was a rope hammock, or rather, a recliner.

A figure lay upon it, covered with a coarse unlined robe and with a battered straw hat resting over his face, fast asleep.

A cattail fan lay dropped on the ground, and his chest rose and fell in time with his snores.

Was this the master?

Clutching the corncob, Li Shimin took two steps forward, wanting to wake him and ask if there was any stock left, even raw.

Yet no sooner had he stepped forward than he pulled his foot back.

Wei Zheng’s words were still buzzing in his ears.

“Masters” were mostly eccentric. Disturbing his sweet dreams now might anger him, and then any hope for delicious food in the future would be completely dashed.

Besides…

Li Shimin looked down at his mismatched eunuch attire, then touched the fake mustache on his chin that was about to peel off.

For the august Son of Heaven of the Great Tang to meet a master looking like this was truly… too humiliating to bear.

“Consider yourself lucky.”

Indignant, Li Shimin tossed the corncob in his hand to the ground.

The corncob went rolling beneath the recliner.

Su Mu rolled over, smacked his lips a couple of times, and muttered sleepily, “Don’t grab it… That’s the last… piece…”

Li Shimin felt as though an arrow had struck him right in the chest.

Clutching his still-protesting stomach, he glared at the soundly sleeping fellow for a long while. In the end, he could only stomp his foot in frustration, turning to melt back into the darkness.

Tomorrow!

Tomorrow, I will raid this Imperial Kitchen fair and square!

No, incognito! An incognito visit! I must avoid that old fossil Wei Zheng at all costs!

Su Mu had not actually been fast asleep.

When a living person that big walked into the courtyard, no matter how light the footsteps were, they still made noise. Besides, this body had been enhanced by the system, making his five senses terrifyingly sharp.

He was just too lazy to move.

In the middle of the night, whoever wanted to work overtime could go right ahead.

He had listened as those sneaky footsteps circled the courtyard, lifting the pot lid, digging through the refuse pile, and finally lingering right in front of him for ages.

Beneath his straw hat, Su Mu rolled his eyes.

The eunuchs in this palace were taking the rat race way too far. Sneaking around to steal food this late at night?

Fortunately, the intruder had known better than to lift his hat, leaving after standing there for a moment.

Su Mu reached out to scratch his belly and shifted into a more comfortable position.

Today’s crispy corn pancake had indeed been a bit greasy; tomorrow he would have to make something lighter.

If only he could get some mung beans, simmer a pot of smooth sweet soup, and pair it with crispy fried dough rings…

Dwelling on that thought, he truly drifted off to sleep this time.

Moonlight spilled over the corn husks littering the ground, coating the dilapidated little courtyard in a layer of silver frost.