Chapter 60

In the car, Li Yujun sat in the back seat with a blank expression. If one looked closely into his eyes, they would see deep regret. To him, this little injury was nothing at all, and being told to avoid certain foods wasn’t a big deal either. But at such a critical moment, his wound had reopened—what a disgrace. Reflecting carefully, Li Yujun figured he might’ve jumped a bit too hard when dropping from the second floor using the drainage pipe. He reminded himself to be more cautious next time he tried something like that.

Beside him, Li Jianguo’s face was as dark as a scorched pot bottom. He took a deep breath and looked sternly at Li Yujun. “You’re the eldest grandson of this family. Your grandfather and I have always had high expectations for you. Whatever you do, you must think three times before acting. Look at what you did today—how would it look if word got out?”

Li Yujun sat ramrod straight, his face growing even more serious. “Yes. I realize I was wrong. This won’t happen again.” Next time, he’d just slide down to the first floor—he would never let the wound reopen again.

From the front seat, Chang Xiaoyuan turned around, distressed by her son’s rigid tone. “Alright, Yujun understands. You don’t need to lecture him anymore—he’s still injured.”

Li Jianguo’s anger seemed to subside a bit, and his tone softened. “We’ll go home for now. You can return to the hospital tomorrow. Don’t pull this kind of stunt again.”

The car pulled into the military compound and stopped in front of a modest two-story building. Just as Li Yujun opened the car door to get out, a loud burst of laughter erupted from the backseat. He silently clenched his fists and took two deep breaths to suppress the urge to beat up his two younger brothers. The last thing he wanted was to reopen his wound and end up back in the hospital in the middle of the night.

Li Jianguo strode into the house quickly. Seeing his tight expression, Chang Xiaoyuan didn’t have time to comfort her son and hurried in after him. The door to the master bedroom slammed shut. Inside, Li Jianguo could no longer hold back his amusement. He collapsed into a chair, laughing as he slapped the armrest. “Xiaoyuan, did you see Yujun’s face? It turned green! That brat always looks so serious, even more stern than my old man. And now? He got carried by a girl—horizontally, no less! Hahaha! Let’s see if he dares to keep that stern face from now on!”

Chang Xiaoyuan gently scolded, “Alright, stop laughing so loud. Yujun might hear and get mad.”

“Hahaha! What if I tell Dad? How long do you think the old man will laugh?”

…

Standing on the stairs, Li Yujun rubbed his brow with a headache. One misstep, and he’d never live it down. Why did he have to faint? If he hadn’t, none of this would’ve happened.

Finally, Li Yujing and Li Yufeng finished laughing. Holding their bellies, they staggered out of the car, their laughter echoing across the snowy night, shaking loose snow from the trees.

A window on the second floor suddenly flew open. Li Yujun stood at the window, looking down coldly at them. His voice was even icier than the snow. “You two think my injury isn’t healing?”

“Uh…” Their laughter died instantly. Heads down, they slipped sheepishly into the house.

Li Yujun closed the window, hung up his coat, and touched the bandage hidden under his clothes, exhaling deeply.

The chicken soup tonight had been delicious. The lamb was tender and flavorful, and even the stir-fried pork liver, which he usually hated, tasted great. Why couldn’t Aunt Zhang make food like that?

Lying in bed, thinking about the tasty dinner, Li Yujun felt like his wound didn’t hurt so much anymore.
—

Qian Jianing pulled the blood-stained bedsheet and used quilt cover off the guest bed and stuffed them into the washing machine. With the upgraded Immortal Realm Kitchen System in place, she didn’t need to worry about any blood stains remaining. After changing the bedding, and while her parents were still sorting the gifts in the living room, she activated the system. In the blink of an eye, the guest bedroom became spotless, as if no one had ever been there.

“Xiaomi, these gifts aren’t cheap, are they?” Li Wanzhen looked a bit uneasy as she organized the items. “Is it really okay for us to accept them?”

Qian Jianing picked up a box of tea, examined it briefly, and set it back down. “Even if we didn’t accept these, they’d send something else. I’ll make him a medicinal stew tomorrow—it’ll count as a return gift.”

Hearing this, Li Wanzhen finally relaxed. Since her daughter had a plan, she wouldn’t worry. “It’s late and you haven’t eaten yet. The chicken soup’s still hot and the dumplings just finished cooking. Go wash up and eat.”

Qian Jianing realized she was hungry. She drank half a bowl of soup in one go, then eagerly picked a piece of pork trotter from the stew pot. Cold, the stew was tasty; hot, it was melt-in-your-mouth tender. The meat on the trotter was pink and quivering. With a gentle suck, skin and meat slid into her mouth, rich in collagen but not at all greasy. The meat on the big bones had fallen off cleanly. Normally, lean meat would be dry and bland when stewed, but after hours of slow cooking, it was tender and fragrant, almost like canned meat.

The whole plate of stew felt like a treasure hunt. The Spanish mackerel had softened so much it could be eaten whole, bones and all, deliciously tender. Qian Jianing thought if someone gave her a pot of rice, she could finish two bowls just with the stew.

After wiping her mouth and letting out a small, satisfied burp, she touched her rounded belly and muttered in frustration, “I probably gained two pounds just now.”

“Good! A bit of weight looks better!” Li Wanzhen rolled her eyes at her while clearing the table. “Look at your arms—no meat at all. A little chubbiness makes you look more blessed.”

When it came to weight, parents and children were naturally on opposite sides. Wisely, Qian Jianing didn’t argue. She poured herself a glass of tea and gulped down half of it.

After the eventful night, Qian Guosheng and Li Wanzhen were both exhausted. Once Qian Jianing finished dinner, she skipped watching TV and went straight to bed. After washing up, she rolled in her blanket a few times and just as she closed her eyes, she found herself once again surrounded by familiar white mist.

“What class is it this time?” She found the small door in the mist and opened it, puzzled to see the Treasure Bowl. “Is this an extra reward for me?”

The Treasure Bowl puffed out its little cheeks. “Not a reward—a punishment. What did you just drink?”

“What did I drink?” Qian Jianing thought for a moment. “Half a jar of tea?”

“You call that drinking tea? That was guzzling like a cow!” The Treasure Bowl was hopping mad. “Even people drinking beer don’t chug like you drink tea!”

She recalled the scenes of traditional tea ceremonies from TV and sheepishly twiddled her fingers. “It all ends up in your mouth anyway. What’s the difference between big sips and small sips? As long as it quenches thirst, right?”

The Treasure Bowl looked at her in exasperation. “Let’s not even talk about drinking for now. Let’s talk about how you brewed that immortal tea I gave you. You call that brewing? You just poured boiling water on the leaves and called it done? Ugh, what a waste of my celestial tea.”

Qian Jianing chuckled awkwardly. “I’m not that familiar with tea…” Seeing the Treasure Bowl’s face growing darker, she quickly flattered, “But your tea is really delicious—even if I ruined it, it was still amazing.”

Hearing this, the Treasure Bowl looked conflicted, but finally muttered, “You’re supposed to use Wealth Energy to send me back to the Immortal Realm. If you can’t even appreciate tea, it damages my style. So today, I invited an immortal who became divine through tea appreciation to teach you. Learn properly and stop ruining my tea.”

Seeing the immortal hadn’t arrived yet, Qian Jianing quickly grabbed the Treasure Bowl’s chubby little arm. “Treasure Bowl, are you immortals really that casual? If becoming good at drinking tea can make you immortal, look at me! I’m great at eating. Do you think I have a shot at being your colleague?”

The Treasure Bowl laughed and pulled his arm back. “Too late by a few hundred years. That position’s already taken. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Qian Jianing stared in disbelief at the vanishing figure. “You’re kidding me? That kind of immortal really exists? Who is it?”

She called out twice, but the Treasure Bowl didn’t return. Instead, a white-robed immortal suddenly appeared before her.

With a wave of his hand, the plain room transformed—flowing water over little bridges, lotus blooming gently—just the scenery alone made her feel completely at ease.

The Tea Immortal didn’t seem like the type to enjoy talking nonsense. As soon as he arrived, he took out his usual tea table and utensils and began the lesson.

“To brew good tea, one must first store good water.” Sitting at the tea table, the Tea Immortal took out a tea stove shaped like a bronze cauldron with dragon and taotie patterns and began boiling water. “The best water for brewing tea used to be from Hui Spring, followed by melted snow from plum blossoms. But the human world has changed, and I fear neither of these waters tastes as they once did.”

“To learn how to brew tea, you must first learn to taste it. The best tea in the human world comes from the summit of Wuyi Mountain, followed by the tender shoots of pre-Qingming Longjing, with their emerald color and delicate fragrance. Though the flavor is light, it’s a true treasure among teas.”

With a wave of his hand, a table appeared beside him, displaying over a hundred tea canisters of all sizes. “Go get the first canister of tea.”

Qian Jianing stood up and picked up a canister, noting the small inscription: “Wuyi Mountain Tea.”

“You must remember the color, appearance, and aroma of every type of tea. The moment you pick one up, you should know exactly what kind it is!”

Once the canister was brought over, it suddenly expanded in size, with teas sorted into different canisters based on their geographical origin and harvesting month.

Identifying tea leaves, smelling their aroma, tasting the flavor, tracing the source of the tea—only after all this does one learn to brew it. Each tea requires a different brewing method, and even the tenderness of the leaves affects the ideal water temperature. For the entire night, Qian Jianing didn’t know how many types of tea she had tasted or how many pots she had brewed. By the time she opened her eyes the next morning, her whole body was infused with the scent of tea.

After breakfast, the phone rang. Qian Jianing picked it up and had just said “Hello” when she heard Wang Chenchen’s energetic voice through the receiver: “Jianing, are you home this morning? My mom and aunt want to come thank you in person!”

Qian Jianing immediately felt a headache coming on. “They already thanked me yesterday. Besides, it wasn’t a big deal. No need to make a special trip.”

Wang Chenchen lowered her voice and said into the phone, “But my aunt insists on thanking you properly. She’s particular about these formalities. She won’t stay long, just three to five minutes. I’ll come along too.”

“…Alright.” Qian Jianing sounded helpless. “But don’t let her bring any more gifts. She already brought so much last night—I’m feeling bad about it.”

Wang Chenchen chuckled, “My third brother’s business is booming. Don’t worry about it. Just accept it. Honestly, my eldest brother’s antics last night will be enough to keep my third brother laughing for a year. He’d be happy to double the gifts.”

After hanging up, Qian Jianing remembered she needed to return a gift to the Li family. She selected ingredients from Xiantao.com and made a medicinal stew tailored to Li Yujun’s health condition.

Around ten o’clock, Chang Xiaoyuan, Li Shuling, and Wang Chenchen arrived as expected. Perhaps worried the Qian family would feel uncomfortable with a second visit, Chang Xiaoyuan didn’t bring expensive gifts this time, just some regular fruit—though in this winter season, it was rare enough to find round, green watermelons.

After a cup of tea and some casual chatting, Chang Xiaoyuan used visiting Li Yujun at the hospital as a reason to excuse herself. Qian Jianing stood up as well. “After Chenchen called this morning, I specially made a pot of medicinal stew. It promotes blood regeneration and wound healing—it’s just right for Mr. Li.”

As soon as she entered the house, Chang Xiaoyuan had smelled the aroma but hadn’t expected the stew was meant for her son. She knew Qian Jianing had medical skills—at the old master’s birthday banquet, Master Physician Zhang Renze had personally praised her. Last night, after drinking Qian Jianing’s herbal medicine, Li Yujun had slept soundly and without fever. It worked even better than the antibiotics at the hospital.

However, since Qian Jianing wasn’t formally practicing medicine, Chang Xiaoyuan had felt awkward asking her to treat her son. This medicinal stew came as a pleasant surprise.

The last banquet had been held at Qian Xiaomi’s Private Kitchen, so Chang Xiaoyuan knew that meals there weren’t cheap. She guessed the stew probably cost at least two or three hundred yuan. Feeling embarrassed, she said, “You’ve already done so much for us.”

Qian Jianing handed the clay pot to Wang Chenchen, wrapped in straw rope, and smiled. “Chenchen is my classmate, and Mr. Li is a guest of mine. It’s just a token of goodwill—please don’t be so formal.”

The stew had just come off the stove, and the pot was still hot. The aroma made Wang Chenchen swallow hard. “Auntie, can I have a bowl later?”

Before Chang Xiaoyuan could reply, Li Shuling lightly slapped Wang Chenchen’s back. “You can’t just eat medicinal stew like that! I swear, you’re always drooling over food.”

Chang Xiaoyuan chuckled, “She’s still a kid. And besides, her brother’s even more of a foodie.”

Thinking of her nephew’s antics, Li Shuling laughed and took the pot from Wang Chenchen, handing it to Chang Xiaoyuan. “You should take this to Yujun right away. If it cools, it might not be as effective.”

After having chicken noodle soup in the morning, Li Yujun had feigned sleep, lying in bed pretending to be fine. Li Jianguo had gone to report to the old master about the previous night’s events. Before leaving, Chang Xiaoyuan told the two younger brothers, Li Yujing and Li Yufeng, to take their elder brother back to the hospital soon.

The two had finally remembered what they’d done the night before and were now trembling in fear. Asking them to take the black-faced “god of death” back to the hospital? Might as well ask for a beating.

As soon as she finished speaking, Li Yujing put on his military uniform and said seriously, “I only took a one-day leave—I need to get back to my unit. Let Yufeng take big brother to the hospital. He’s his own boss anyway—no one’s watching him.”

Li Yufeng watched as his brother dashed off and looked as if he were facing the enemy. “Mom! Mom! Mom! I’m your own son, right? How could you be so heartless as to send me to my death? If I tell my brother I’m taking him back to the hospital, he’ll throw me out the second-story window without a second thought!”

Chang Xiaoyuan lovingly patted his face. “He won’t. Your big brother’s injured—he doesn’t have that kind of strength. You’ll be fine.” Li Yufeng stared at her in disbelief, still trying to beg, when she added, “And it’s only the second floor—you wouldn’t even need him to throw you. You could jump yourself. No big deal!”

Li Yufeng looked at her, on the verge of tears. “You really are my birth mother, huh…”

Eyes full of tears, he watched Chang Xiaoyuan walk out the door, then slowly dragged himself to Li Yujun’s room, gently knocking on the door with one finger. He was so quiet that even Li Yujun, known for his sharp hearing, didn’t hear it.

For ten minutes, he gently tapped the door with his knuckle. Finally, feeling he’d fulfilled his duty, he went downstairs, wrote a note for his mom, and ran off with full confidence.

Lying in bed, Li Yujun opened his eyes. Finally—freedom.

Chang Xiaoyuan headed straight to the hospital from the Qian household, only to find not her stern-faced eldest son, but an empty bed and a clueless soldier.

Clenching her teeth, she stormed into the doctor’s office, borrowed a phone, and dialed home.

Call after call, the phone rang for ten minutes before Li Yujun, overwhelmed by the barrage, stomped downstairs and picked up with a face full of fury. “Hello?”

Hearing her son’s voice as cold as a blade, Chang Xiaoyuan replied calmly, “Miss Qian made a medicinal stew. I brought it to the hospital. Where are you?”

After a brief pause, Li Yujun gave up resisting and followed his heart. “I’ll head to the hospital right away!”

Chang Xiaoyuan hung up with a cold laugh. “Trying to outplay me? You’ll die of craving first!”
—

Coming to the Imperial Capital, the most important thing to do was take photos—especially at places known to the entire country. Qian Jianing bought a camera and a dozen rolls of film, then took her parents to the Forbidden City, Summer Palace, and the Great Wall, snapping countless photos until her fingers ached.

After three straight days of touring, Li Wanzhen was tired. But Qian Guosheng and Qian Jiafeng were still full of energy, curious about everything. So Qian Jianing handed the camera over and let the two of them explore on their own.

After being closed for three days, Qian Xiaomi’s Private Kitchen reopened. With nothing better to do, Li Wanzhen came to help serve dishes. After a busy midday shift and once all the guests had left, two men wandered in from outside.

Qian Jianing stepped forward with a polite smile. “Sorry, we’re closed for the day.”

One of them, a rather plump man, raised his chin and sized up Qian Jianing with a haughty look. “You’re the owner of this home-style cuisine place?”

Qian Jianing narrowed her eyes slightly and glanced at the man’s face: greedy, malicious, selfish—an out-and-out scoundrel.

There was no need to spare someone like that. Qian Jianing gave a cold snort, lifted her chin arrogantly just like him, and retorted, “Yeah! And who might you be?”

“Oh wow, you’re running a restaurant and you don’t know our Lord Jin?” Another skinny man immediately looked at Qian Jianing with an expression that screamed “ignorant bumpkin.” “Our Lord Jin is a renowned food critic in the Imperial Capital. He has his own food column in the Imperial Capital Weekly Talk. I’m telling you, Lord Jin is known for having the most discerning palate in the city. Whether your restaurant actually has substance or is all just hype—he’ll know with one bite. And if the food’s truly good, Lord Jin will promote you in his column.”

The fat man known as “Lord Jin” stood with his hands behind his back, chin lifted high in an “I’m a big deal” manner, his eyes practically rolling up to the ceiling.

Qian Jianing gave a light laugh. “And what’s Lord Jin’s real name? What about you—what’s your name?”

Although the skinny guy felt her tone wasn’t exactly respectful, he looked at Qian Jianing’s smiling face and youthful appearance and didn’t think too much of it. “Lord Jin’s name is Jin Chengzhi. Back in the day, you’d have to call him ‘Young Master.’ I’m his assistant, name’s Zhang Min. You can call me Brother Zhang.”

Qian Jianing chuckled. “Zhang Min, huh? Why’d your Lord Jin hire someone with such an unappetizing face as his assistant? Doesn’t that kill the mood for food?”

Zhang Min’s smug grin froze on his face. He seemed a bit slow to react. “Wait, you—”

“What do you mean, me? The Qing dynasty’s been dead for ages! Still calling yourself ‘Young Master’?” Qian Jianing rolled her eyes in annoyance. “And you have the nerve to call yourself a food critic? You’re just some broke freeloader trying to get a free meal and some perks while you’re at it. What kind of face do you have to go around calling yourself ‘Lord’?”

Jin Chengzhi finally lowered his head, his chubby face visibly angry, though a trace of guilt flickered beneath the surface. For years, he’d been freeloading off restaurants under the guise of being a food critic. If a place treated him well, he’d heap praise on them in his column. If not, he’d write scathing reviews, nitpicking everything from the food to the decor. Restaurant owners, desperate for good publicity, didn’t dare cross him—one bad article could ruin their business.

But Jin Chengzhi was a smart kind of scoundrel. He never targeted established brands or big-name restaurants. He always went after places with a little name recognition but lacking strong backing—perfect prey for “sampling.” Most owners, not wanting trouble, would serve him lavish meals and hand him red envelopes before he left. Once the article was published, they’d buy a few copies and display them, claiming they’d been featured in the press.

Having coasted on the title of “food critic” for a few years, this was the first time Jin Chengzhi had run into a restaurant that flat-out refused to humor him.

He jabbed a fat finger in Qian Jianing’s face, glaring. “You little brat! Don’t think just because you opened a restaurant that you’re hot stuff. Sounds to me like you’re not planning to stay in business much longer.”

If Qian Jianing had heard that back when she first opened in the Imperial Capital, she might’ve been a little worried about getting bad press. But now, Qian Xiaomi’s Private Kitchen had its own loyal customer base. She wasn’t at all concerned about some third-rate tabloid damaging her business. As far as she knew, people who actually read those kinds of street papers couldn’t afford to eat at her restaurant anyway.

Qian Jianing looked at Jin Chengzhi mockingly and laughed. “Wow, Lord Jin, you finally decided to lower your head. When you walked in with your nose in the air, I thought you’d cricked your neck. Anyway, I’m closing up now. Go find another place to beg from.”

Jin Chengzhi was forced to retreat step by step under Qian Jianing’s pressure, fuming and stamping his feet. “You’ll regret this! I’m going back to write that column right now! Just wait, you’ll be out of business in no time!”

Qian Jianing sneered at his empty threat. “You better work hard, then. Just make sure your trashy paper doesn’t fold before my restaurant does.”

Jin Chengzhi shoved on his wool hat and stormed off with Zhang Min in tow. Qian Jianing smoothed out the wrinkles in her clothes and muttered to herself, “Big forest, all kinds of birds.”

The table hadn’t been cleared yet. Qian Jianing turned to Li Xiaoyu and instructed, “Just leave the dishes on the counter. Once you’re done, lock up and head home.”

After these few months, Li Xiaoyu and Wang Yahan were used to Qian Jianing’s style. Li Xiaoyu obediently nodded. Once Qian Jianing had left, Wang Yahan tugged on Li Xiaoyu’s sleeve nervously. “Xiaoyu, do you think that guy’ll really get Sister Jianing’s restaurant shut down?”

“No way!” Li Xiaoyu calmly stacked the plates and bowls. “Think about the kind of people who usually eat here. If he wants to cause trouble, he better check if he’s even in the same league.”