The Substitute Bride in a Marriage Contract 32

As it was a Mid-Autumn moon-viewing banquet, the palace feast was held in the Imperial Garden.

As night fell, the entire palace remained brightly lit, with exquisite glazed palace lanterns glowing everywhere within the magnificent halls.

As a Junior Preceptor of the Crown Prince's household, ranked at the third grade, Xie Qingyan's seat was naturally placed below Crown Prince Xiao Yuanzhong—not far from the emperor's position, yet not particularly close either.

Beneath the radiant full moon, the banquet was filled with song and dance, the strains of strings and flutes rising melodiously. Guests clinked glasses and toasted one another, while the tables before them were laden with an array of exquisite dishes and pastries.

Chen Yao lowered her head, her slender, jade-like fingertips lightly picking up a piece of lotus-petal puff pastry from the plate in front of her, then bringing it to her lips for a small, delicate bite.

It was crisp, soft, and fragrant, sweet without being cloying—truly deserving of the imperial kitchen's craft. It was indeed excellent.

Despite being an oil-based pastry, it was clearly designed with nobility's convenience in mind, and through some clever technique, it barely left any crumbs.

Chen Yao's gaze drifted to the dancer in the center of the banquet, who moved gracefully in a long-sleeved performance, and she took another small, savoring bite of the lotus-paste filling inside the pastry.

Court delicacies weren't necessarily rare—as the young madam of the top-tier Xie clan, anything the palace could offer, she could certainly taste if she wished.

But, well, it was all about the ambiance and the novelty of the experience.

As for the other dishes, by the time the emperor and empress made their grand entrance at the end, they had already been set out for a long while and had naturally gone completely cold.

If the vegetable dishes were still palatable, the ones with meat or fish—Chen Yao decided it was safer to leave them alone for the sake of her delicate stomach.

"The lotus-petal pastry suits your taste, my lady?" Xie Qingyan asked with a smile.

His attention had, of course, remained fixed on his wife beside him, so he'd immediately noticed her fondness for the pastry.

"If you like it, we could have the estate's cook prepare it in the same style once we return."

Chen Yao shook her head. "It tastes quite different from the one at Yunwei Studio. I'm just trying it out for novelty—no need for that."

"Very well. But eating only pastries might leave you thirsty. Try this glass of sparkling white peach wine as well."

Xie Qingyan gathered his sleeve and poured a small cup of the fruit wine into a porcelain cup. The pale apricot-colored liquid swirled against the pristine white cup, topped with a thin layer of froth.

"I hear this fruit wine is a signature craft of Yunwei Studio," he said with a smile.

It was actually meant to be called sparkling peach soda, and it did originate from Yunwei Studio on West Street.

Because it was so popular in the capital, and to ensure the nobles could savor that superior sense of exclusivity, it was priced exorbitantly high and limited to just three cups per day.

Naturally, that had been Chen Yao's idea—after having seen so much in the modern world, picking up a few merchant tricks was child's play.

At first, Yun Niang, the owner of Yunwei Studio, had worried about upsetting the customers, but it turned out that big spenders just loved that kind of scarce, limited-edition thrill.

Once this sales approach was introduced, the uniquely crafted sparkling drink not only sold better—selling out the moment the doors opened—but also catapulted her pastry shop's reputation. It was killing two birds with one stone.

"Right? I worked on that for quite a while." Chen Yao narrowed her eyes and took a sip of the fruit wine.

Tasting the subtle hint of alcohol, the sweetness of peach flesh, and the fizzy bubbles gliding over her tongue, the young woman's pretty face wore an expression of enjoyment mixed with a touch of smug satisfaction.

"My lady is brilliant," Xie Qingyan said with a lifted corner of his lips, naturally offering his praise.

He knew that Chen Yao had always loved pastries and drinks, and she often liked to tinker and come up with new creations. Later, she'd sent her senior maidservant to broker a partnership with Yun Niang of Yunwei Studio—"technology for equity," as she put it.

The Xie family certainly didn't lack the income from his wife's small dividend, but since it made her happy, he indulged her in everything. Meanwhile, he'd quietly dealt with a few petty schemers who'd tried to muscle in or sabotage her venture.

Noticing a small crumb of pastry stuck to the corner of his wife's lips, his gaze flickered slightly. He drew a clean embroidered handkerchief from his sleeve and gently wiped it away for her.

Chen Yao was speechless.

She instinctively glanced left and right, seeing that the ministers at the banquet were busy toasting and chatting, paying no attention to them.

She gave the man a covert glare and quickly pressed his hand down.

So much for the reserved modesty of ancient people—if he wanted to show off their affection, couldn't he at least restrain himself in public?

Especially when Chen Yao casually glimpsed at the handkerchief in his hand—that familiar, crookedly embroidered peony on the pale green cloth. She felt utterly exasperated.

In a flash, she recalled how Xie Qingyan had, as if casually, once mentioned that she'd gifted Xie Yi'an a handkerchief she'd embroidered herself.

Then he'd started dropping hints, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, that he, too, longed for a token of love embroidered by his wife's own hand.

Yeah, right. Not a chance.

Chen Yao had naturally pretended not to understand his meaning, since she still remembered the suffering she'd endured learning embroidery alongside the female lead.

But damn it, Xie Qingyan was just too persistent. Seeing her refusal, he remained perfectly attentive and obedient to her during the day, but at night, he'd pull out all sorts of tricks in bed...

So in the end, Chen Yao had grudgingly embroidered an abstract-style peony on a handkerchief for him, and only then did he temporarily settle down.

Just recalling it made Chen Yao's waist ache faintly—he'd been an absolute beast back then!

Xie Qingyan had long grown accustomed to his wife's frequent bouts of absent-mindedness. Seeing her gaze land on the handkerchief in his hand, he quickly connected it to that time in bed...

Cough. He still found it quite memorable, actually.

After all, he'd only just begun to study the various positions from the illustrated manuals in a shallow way, but his little wife was far too delicate, and stubborn to boot. No matter how much he desired it, he could only reluctantly let the matter drop.

Chen Yao fixed him with a withering stare, then blinked, suddenly noticing out of nowhere that the tips of Xie Qingyan's ears had turned slightly red.

TL Note:

illustrated manuals (避火图) are erotic picture books used in old China as sexual guides and talismans against fire.

he still found it quite memorable (食髓知味) means “once you taste marrow, you long for it”; here it implies he can't forget that intimate experience.