Chapter Ninety: Haha, I Understand

What Liu Ling’er never expected was that she had practically come out with a lantern to buy breakfast, yet still found an endless queue winding before her. What on earth was going on? She glanced up—the moon was still in the sky! Wasn’t this a bit much? Had these people not slept all night, just squatting here in line?

Even more unexpected, the mistress of Ma’s Morning Teahouse actually approached her, led her inside, brewed tea, and brought out several plates of pastries. The series of actions left Liu Ling’er doubting whether she’d come to the right place.

When Liu Ling’er emerged, breakfast in hand—personally prepared by the mistress—the people waiting outside grew indignant, voices rising in protest, “What’s going on here? Why does she get breakfast without waiting in line? That’s not fair! We want ours first too!”

In the face of such clamor, the mistress planted her hands on her hips and declared, “If you all keep making a fuss, I’ll close up shop for the day!”

Her words were powerful indeed; the crowd instantly hushed, lining up obediently. As they watched Liu Ling’er depart with her breakfast, their faces were filled with unconcealed envy and resentment.

The sky had been pitch-dark when she left, but by the time Liu Ling’er returned to the entrance of the Prince Xian’s Residence, dawn was breaking. The eastern sky was ablaze with the red glow of sunrise, and the sun was just about to emerge.

Liu Ling’er entered the residence to find Chu Meier, clad in white, practicing martial arts in the courtyard. Each punch and kick was full of spirit, her movements as graceful as a dancing sprite—fluid and poised, the bearing of a true noblewoman.

After completing her routine, not even flushed or out of breath, without a bead of sweat, Chu Meier turned to Liu Ling’er. “Ling’er, out to buy breakfast again? But where’s Ah Xian?”

Liu Ling’er smiled as she approached. “It’s a daughter-in-law’s duty to honor her mother-in-law with breakfast. Ah Xian is still sleeping in my rooms! Mother, shouldn’t you…”

Mentioning that Baili Xian was still asleep in her quarters made Liu Ling’er a bit embarrassed; from his appearance this morning, he clearly hadn’t slept well last night. At that moment, Liu Ling’er wanted to tell Chu Meier about He Yian’er’s ill intentions toward her, but after hesitating, she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

As for her own relationship with Baili Xian, it was entirely innocent—something Liu Ling’er would certainly not mention to the Empress Dowager. Admitting as much would be tantamount to the crime of deceiving the sovereign. She kept silent, while Chu Meier’s thoughts went in a completely different direction.

Chu Meier gave Liu Ling’er a meaningful look, scrutinizing her so intently it made Liu Ling’er’s skin crawl. “Oh, I understand! Newlyweds are naturally inseparable. Back in the day, Ah Xian’s father would come to me several times a night! Ah, listen to me, saying such things to you—how embarrassing!”

“What!” Liu Ling’er finally grasped Chu Meier’s meaning—the Empress Dowager had mistaken her and Baili Xian’s exhaustion as the aftereffects of amorous marital bliss, leaving them too tired to rise early. Heaven help her! A gust of wind blew past, leaving Liu Ling’er thoroughly bewildered.

Chu Meier, thinking Liu Ling’er was simply bashful, patted her hand with a chuckle. “Ling’er, you must work hard. I’m counting on you to give me a grandson! I’ll check if my medicine is ready—don’t rush to wake Ah Xian!”

In the end, Liu Ling’er remained at a loss, never finding the chance to tell Chu Meier about He Yian’er’s schemes.

She didn’t call for Baili Xian, but half an hour later he arose by himself. Though he was up, dark circles shadowed his eyes and his face looked haggard—all clear signs of a poor night’s sleep. Yet, in Chu Meier’s eyes, this was further proof of overindulgence in the bedchamber.

Chu Meier cheerfully had the maids bring two bowls of soup, one for Baili Xian and one for Liu Ling’er. “Drink it while it’s hot! I specially made this for you, don’t let my efforts go to waste!”

Liu Ling’er eyed the milky-white, porridge-like concoction, uncertain whether she should drink it. Who knew what was in it—what if something happened after?

Baili Xian picked up his bowl; his was pitch-black, like ink. His brow furrowed as if he recognized its contents, but he sighed and drank it down in one gulp.

He shot Liu Ling’er a meaningful glance, and she understood—he was telling her to drink as well. Baili Xian wouldn’t harm her. Gritting her teeth, closing her eyes, she steeled herself and swallowed the white gruel.

The first sensation was bitter, but a faint sweetness chased away the worst of it. Liu Ling’er wrinkled her nose and asked Chu Meier, “Mother, what is this medicine? Why is it so bitter?”

Chu Meier smiled warmly. “Bitter? I even added honey! This is a secret imperial recipe—the Conception Soup. It increases the chances of conceiving an heir. My senior sister taught it to me years ago, and now I’m passing it on to my son and daughter-in-law—returning it to its rightful owners.”

Chu Meier’s senior sister, who was mother to several of Baili Xian’s brothers, had passed away early. Chu Meier had married Baili Xian’s father afterward and had helped raise his brothers.

Hearing this, Liu Ling’er finally understood just how eager Chu Meier was for a grandchild. Judging by Baili Xian, he seemed well aware of this situation.

What made Liu Ling’er want to faint was Chu Meier’s next remark: “Ling’er, you must try even harder! For the sake of the Baili family, I’ll be making this tonic for you every day from now on!”

Liu Ling’er nearly spat out her mouthful of Conception Soup. To have to drink such foul stuff every day—Heavens, who will save me!