lovenovelstory Chapter 113 Lin Daiyu uproots the willow tree?
Chapter 113 Lin Daiyu uproots the willow tree?
Chapter 113 Lin Daiyu uproots the willow tree?
At the Duke of Liang's residence, on the breakfast table.
Fang Xuanling held his chopsticks, poked at a plate of stir-fried cabbage, glanced at the bowl of thinly cooked millet porridge next to him, and sighed deeply.
"well----"
This sigh sent shivers down the spine of the butler serving nearby, who feared his master was about to take his anger out on the kitchen again.
Ever since he had that cold pot skewers meal and tasted the chive pancakes his daughter brought back, Fang Xuanling's palate had become completely discerning.
Now, looking at the meals I used to think were just okay, they taste like nothing at all.
"Father, is the food not to your liking?"
Fang Qingjun sat at the lower end of the table, sipping her porridge.
Today she wore a light blue ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), and her hair was not adorned with any elaborate gold hairpins, but rather with a simple jade hairpin, giving her a clean and neat appearance.
Fang Xuanling put down his chopsticks and rubbed his slightly throbbing temples: "It's not that it's bad, it's just lacking something—that energy."
"Qingjun, do you think that young Su from the Imperial Kitchen has been tinkering with some new and interesting things lately?"
Fang Qingjun paused for a moment, the porcelain spoon hitting the side of the bowl with a crisp clink.
"Daughter—daughter doesn't know."
She lowered her eyes, staring at the grains of rice in the bowl. "This...it's been some time since I've been to the palace."
"Indeed, you are a lady of noble birth. It's really inappropriate for you to keep running around those smoky and fiery places in the palace." Fang Xuanling stroked his beard, his face serious.
Fang Qingjun felt a little disappointed and was about to respond when her father suddenly changed the subject.
"However, our Fang family has never been particular about details. Besides, you're at the age where you should go out and about more. It's not good for you to stay cooped up in the mansion all day."
Moreover, I've noticed Princess Chang Le spending a lot of time there lately; it's only right that you go and keep her company.
As Fang Xuanling spoke, he glanced at his daughter out of the corner of his eye.
Yesterday, I heard that old scoundrel Cheng Yaojin bragging in the main hall that he smelled fried chicken at the palace gate, and it smelled so good that he almost swallowed his tongue.
Fang Xuanling felt an unbearable itch in his heart, like being scratched by a cat.
"I've heard that late autumn is the season when people are most prone to getting hot and dry. If we could have some food that can soothe dryness—" Fang Xuanling coughed twice meaningfully.
Fang Qingjun understood her father's meaning perfectly.
She pursed her lips, a faint blush rising to her cheeks, then put down her chopsticks, rose, and curtsied: "Father is right. I will go to the palace to pay my respects to Sister Chang Le."
Fang Xuanling immediately beamed and waved his hand, "Go ahead, go ahead, come back soon. Remember to bring the food box, the big one."
The backyard of the imperial kitchen.
The wind has been strong these past few days, making the old osmanthus tree in the corner of the yard sway precariously.
In previous years, this tree would have already withered by this time, but for some reason, it is in full bloom this year, covered with tiny golden flowers, and the fragrance is so strong it's intoxicating.
Su Mu was carrying several large bamboo sieves to spread white cloth under the tree.
"Mr. Su?"
A soft call came from the doorway.
Su Mu straightened up and dusted off his hands. He saw Fang Qingjun standing gracefully at the courtyard gate, carrying a large sandalwood food box.
"Oh, Miss Fang."
Su Mu pointed to the ground under the tree, "You've come at just the right time; we were just in need of a helper."
Fang Qingjun was stunned for a moment.
She thought Su Mu would ask her why she came, or exchange a few polite words, but she didn't expect to be conscripted right away.
"Straighten this cloth and cover the area around the tree roots." Su Mu held one end of the cloth himself and gestured for Fang Qingjun to hold the other end.
Fang Qingjun quickly put down the food box, walked over, and carefully pinched a corner of the white cloth.
The cloth was rather rough, with bits of grass stuck to it. Her hands were usually only used for holding writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones; she had never done such rough work before.
"Pull harder, are you afraid of tearing the fabric and hurting yourself?"
Su Mu frowned. "Pull it over there, yes, cover it up tightly, don't let the flowers fall into the soil. Those are things we'll eat."
Fang Qingjun felt her face flush from his words and tightened her grip, spreading the cloth out neatly.
"Alright, now for the technical part."
Su Mu walked to the tree trunk, looked up at the tree full of golden leaves, and asked, "Can you shake the tree?"
'
"Shake—the tree?"
Fang Qingjun blinked blankly.
"Just hug the tree trunk and shake it hard."
Su Mu demonstrated, "Shaking down those ripe petals. This is called 'beating the osmanthus.'"
Fang Qingjun looked at the rough tree bark, then at her own plain dress, and hesitated.
That action—is rather indecent.
"What's wrong? Can't let loose?"
Su Mu didn't press the matter. He rolled up his sleeves and said, "Then stand further away so you don't get blinded."
But then again, how could I let a girl shake a tree?
Wouldn't that be like Lin Daiyu uprooting a willow tree?
After saying that, he wrapped his arms around the tree trunk, took a deep breath, and swayed violently.
Whoosh!
The once still tree canopy suddenly came alive. Countless tiny golden petals fell like a sudden rainstorm.
The rich, sweet aroma exploded in the air instantly.
Fang Qingjun had taken two steps back, but she was still covered by the rain of flowers that fell nearby.
A few tiny yellow flowers landed on her hair bun, on her shoulder, and one even playfully clung to her eyelashes.
Su Mu stopped what he was doing, took a breath, and turned his head to see this scene.
The girl stood in the rain of flowers, her head slightly tilted back, her expression somewhat dazed. Her pale blue skirt was covered with golden petals, which, in this bleak late autumn, gave off a vibrant energy that was hard to look away from.
"It looks good."
Su Mu spoiled the mood, saying, "It's a pity that these flowers that fell on your head can't be eaten."
Fang Qingjun's fleeting romantic thoughts were instantly shut down by this sentence.
She raised her hand, somewhat embarrassed and annoyed, to brush the petals off her eyelashes, but the more she tried, the more confused she became, and ended up rubbing the petals into her eyes.
"Don't move."
A large hand reached out and grabbed her wrist.
Su Mu moved closer, and the smell of smoke mixed with the fragrance of osmanthus wafted over him.
"This stuff has pollen in it, and the more you rub it, the itchier it gets."
He pulled a worn-out handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over, saying, "Wipe yourself."
Fang Qingjun's heart was beating a little fast. She lowered her head, took the handkerchief, and was about to thank him.
"Achoo!!!"
A thunderous sneeze came from the kitchen doorway.
The two were startled and turned their heads at the same time.
Little Sizi was standing there, rubbing her red little nose, her eyes brimming with tears, and clutching a half-eaten chicken leg in both hands.
"My nose is itchy!"
The little girl sniffed and said in a muffled voice, "The smell here is so weird, it's going to make me dizzy."
Su Mu released Fang Qingjun's wrist, walked over, squatted down, and pinched the little girl's cheek: "That's osmanthus powder. Who told you to stick your head into the flower bushes just now? You're having an allergic reaction."
Little Sizi, looking aggrieved, rubbed her oily little hands on Su Mu's clothes: "But—but that flower looks so ugly—"
Fang Qingjun looked at the two, one big and one small, and couldn't help but cover her mouth and chuckle. The awkwardness and excitement from before had completely dissipated with that sneeze.