The Scholar’s Unconventional Little Wife - Chapter 14

Although the residual influence of Lin Ruo’an placing first in the examinations twice still lingered, she felt the atmosphere in the academy had become increasingly subtle. When Zhou Wenyuan looked at her, there was a spark deeply buried in his eyes. The flattery from her other classmates also carried a hint of cautious probing.

Lin Ruo’an handled these situations flawlessly, but inwardly, she felt so frustrated she wanted to claw at the walls. These people had minds more twisted than a winding corridor, she thought. Wouldn’t it be better to spend that effort memorizing a few more policy essays? She deeply missed the “troublemaker” at home, whose personality was straightforward and whose mind was simpler than plain boiled noodles.

Sure enough, the moment she stepped into the Xu family’s eatery, the vibe shifted instantly.

On the stove sat a new creation. This time it wasn’t a translucent cake, but several plump, golden-brown, crispy spheres covered in white sesame seeds, radiating a rich, nutty, caramelized aroma.

“What is this?” Lin Ruo’an leaned in and took a deep breath. It smelled divine! Deep-fried carbohydrates, the eternal source of happiness!

“Sesame balls,” Xu Wangyou said, untying her apron, her eyes and brow full of pride. “I wrapped red bean paste in glutinous rice dough and fried them.” She picked one up, blew on it, and held it to Lin Ruo’an’s lips. “Be careful, it’s hot.”

Lin Ruo’an took a bite right from her hand. The outer shell was crispy, the inside was soft and chewy, and the red bean filling was perfectly sweet, mingling with the fragrance of the sesame—it was perfection! She puffed out air because of the heat, but she couldn’t help but give a thumbs up. “Delicious! This is even more fragrant than the sugar cakes!”

Xu Wangyou’s eyes curved into crescent moons. She picked one up for herself and began to nibble, her cheeks bulging slightly, like a satisfied hamster.

Xu Fenggu walked in from the back door, holding a bunch of fresh green onions. She glanced at the stove. “Frying things again? Such a waste of oil!” Her tone was disparaging, but her feet honestly shuffled over. She plucked a sesame ball, turned her back, and took a quick bite, mumbling, “Hmm, it’s alright.”

Lin Ruo’an held back a laugh, pretending she didn’t see her mother stealing a snack. Ms. Xu, where did your dignity go?

Life slipped by amidst Xu Wangyou’s endless “experiments with sugar and oil.” After the sesame balls came fried sugar cakes, and later, pastries filled with honey and nuts. Lin Ruo’an felt she was becoming a prisoner of sweetness, looking forward to returning home after school every day (with just a tiny bit of concern about her weight).

That afternoon, she had just been kept behind by Old Chen, who gave her earnest instructions on the format of the final “Wen Kui” examination, emphasizing, “There is no rigid pattern, but one must show true substance.” While pondering this cryptic subject and carrying the honey-preserved plums she had specifically detoured to the East Market to buy, she hurried home.

When she pushed open the door of the eatery, she felt the atmosphere was different.

There was a customer in the front hall. He was an elderly man wearing a slightly worn, dark gray zhiduo robe. The fabric was common but kept stiff and clean. His hair was streaked with gray and fastened with a simple wooden pin. His face was thin and refined, his expression gentle, revealing a wisdom and composure accumulated over many years.

In front of him sat a dish of amber walnut pastries that Xu Wangyou had made that morning, accompanied by a pot of clear tea, which he was enjoying in a measured, leisurely way.

That wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was that Xu Wangyou was not in the kitchen but standing at a distance from the man’s table. She was looking slightly down, twisting the corner of her apron, her expression one of nervousness and hesitation that Lin Ruo’an had never seen before.

The old man ate a small piece of the walnut pastry, savoring it carefully, and took a sip of tea before looking up at Xu Wangyou. His tone was warm, carrying a slight northern accent, “Little girl, did you make this pastry?”

Xu Wangyou nodded. “Yes.”

“You used honey, lard, walnuts, and… a little bit of salt to enhance the flavor?” the old man asked.

Xu Wangyou was a bit surprised and nodded again. “Yes.”

“Hmm,” the old man stroked his beard, his eyes filled with even more admiration. “Sweet but not cloying, crispy but not falling apart. The walnuts were roasted to perfection, and the salt was the finishing touch, cutting through the greasiness. Even more rare is the layered crust; it requires skilled techniques, a calm mind, and steady hands. Little girl, who did you study under?”

Xu Wangyou shook her head blankly. “I have no master. I just… thought of it myself.”

“Oh?” The old man was truly surprised this time. “Self-taught? Remarkable. To have such patience and ingenuity at your age is rare indeed. Have you studied? Can you read?”

Xu Wangyou hesitated and looked toward Xu Fenggu behind the counter. Xu Fenggu gave a subtle nod.

“I know a little,” Xu Wangyou whispered. “Brother Ruo’an taught me.”

“Brother Ruo’an?” The old man shifted his gaze and happened to see Lin Ruo’an standing at the door, stunned.

Lin Ruo’an gave a start and quickly stepped forward, bowing respectfully. “Junior Lin Ruo’an greets the elder.” Her heart was pounding—this old gentleman carried an extraordinary air, clearly no ordinary person! Listening to his critique of the pastry, he was practically at the level of a food critic! Why would he come to their little eatery?

The old man watched her, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment before sweeping over her scholar’s robes. He smiled slightly. “Lin Ruo’an? Are you the one who has been studying under Brother Chen and placed first in the examinations twice recently?”

Lin Ruo’an’s heart trembled, and she became even more respectful. “I was just lucky, and I am unworthy of your praise, elder.”

“Neither arrogant nor rash, not bad,” the old man nodded and looked back at Xu Wangyou. “A brother and sister, one with words and one with craft, complementing each other perfectly. These pastries are excellent.” He set down his teacup, took a few copper coins from his sleeve, placed them on the table, and rose. “My surname is Song. I am traveling and currently staying by the Bamboo Stream outside the town. I have had a great treat today, thank you for your hospitality.”

With that, he gave a slight nod to Lin Ruo’an and Xu Wangyou and walked away with a composed gait.

Not until the old man’s back disappeared at the end of the alley did the tension in the eatery relax.

“My goodness…” Lin Ruo’an let out a breath and looked at Xu Fenggu. “Mother, this old Mr. Song…”

“Judging by his accent and manners, he sounds like a retired high official from the capital,” Xu Fenggu tossed her rag onto the counter, her expression complex. “He arrived suddenly this afternoon, asked only for a pot of tea, and specifically requested to taste the pastry that took the most effort to make. So I brought him a plate of what Wangyou made this morning. Looking at the sheer air of authority about him, he is definitely no ordinary customer.”

Lin Ruo’an’s heart raced even faster. A reclusive scholar? Acquainted with Old Chen? This… this was a hidden giant! Why would he notice their small eatery? Was it really just the pastries that attracted him?

She looked at Xu Wangyou. Xu Wangyou was still standing in the same spot, staring at the seat where Mr. Song had sat, her brow slightly furrowed as if trying to recall something.

“Wangyou?” Lin Ruo’an walked over and lightly touched her arm. “What’s wrong?”

Xu Wangyou came back to herself and shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just… that old gentleman, the way he looks at people, it feels like he can see right through you. It’s a bit… strange.” She tilted her head to think, adding, “But I didn’t dislike him.”

Didn’t dislike him? Lin Ruo’an pondered the words. If someone as intuitive as Xu Wangyou said she didn’t dislike him, it at least meant Mr. Song had no malicious intent.

“He said the pastries were delicious, was he telling the truth?” Xu Wangyou was more concerned about that, looking at Lin Ruo’an with expectant eyes.

Lin Ruo’an picked up the remaining piece of walnut pastry from the plate and took a bite. It was fragrant, crispy, and sweet—even better than she had imagined. “Of course he was! He gave such a professional critique! Wangyou, you really are amazing!” She showered her with praise without hesitation.

Xu Wangyou’s expression instantly brightened, carrying a hint of small pride. She picked up the honey-preserved plums Lin Ruo’an had brought back, looked at them, and said quite naturally, “Tomorrow, I’ll try using these for the filling.”

Lin Ruo’an couldn’t help but laugh. Well, the gourmet research never stops.

During dinner, Xu Fenggu mentioned another group of people from that afternoon. “Before Mr. Song arrived, there were two strangers. Their accents were similar to those previous ones, and they were asking if there was a new cook in town, especially one who could make northern-style pastries.”

Lin Ruo’an and Xu Wangyou locked eyes, both seeing the gravity in each other’s expressions.

“I told them no, we only have home-style dishes here,” Xu Fenggu said, eating her meal with a flat tone. “They didn’t pester me much, just ate a bowl of noodles and left.” She looked up at Xu Wangyou. “You’ve been a bit too much in the spotlight lately. The scent of those pastries is too tempting. Starting tomorrow, close the doors and windows when you cook, and don’t leave finished ones out in the open.”

Xu Wangyou nodded obediently. “Yes.”

At night, after washing up, Xu Wangyou didn’t wait for Lin Ruo’an to speak; she just hugged her pillow, stood silently by the bed, and looked at her longingly.

Lin Ruo’an felt her heart soften, feeling both exasperated and amused. “Come up, the floor is cold.”

Xu Wangyou immediately beamed and climbed onto the bed, skillfully lying down on the inner side.

“Wangyou,” Lin Ruo’an whispered, “do you think that Mr. Song is a good person?”

“I don’t know,” Xu Wangyou answered simply. “But he was very serious when he ate the pastries, very… respectful. People who respect food can’t be too bad…” She thought for a moment and added, “Besides, when he left, he looked at you. His eyes… looked quite satisfied.”

“Looking at me? Satisfied?” Lin Ruo’an was stunned.

“Yes,” Xu Wangyou said with certainty. “Just like… like when Mother buys really good meat, or when I make a really successful pastry, that kind of look.”

Lin Ruo’an opened her eyes wide in the darkness. Mr. Song was satisfied with her? Because she taught Xu Wangyou to write, or because she was Old Chen’s prized pupil? Or perhaps… both?

This discovery made her heart race. A recluse who was possibly a great scholar had shown “satisfaction” toward her… The feeling was subtle, a bit pressured, but also held an indescribable sense of anticipation.

“Let’s sleep,” she suppressed her scattered thoughts, reached out, and accurately found Xu Wangyou’s hand under the quilt, holding it gently. “We have to make the plum-filled pastries tomorrow.”

Xu Wangyou squeezed her hand back, her voice soft with sleepiness. “Hmm… what kind of filling do you like? I’ll try them all.”

Lin Ruo’an couldn’t help but smile. The gloom caused by Mr. Song and the people from the north was dispelled quite a bit by these simple, honest words.

“Whatever you make, I will eat.”

Outside the window, the moonlight flowed like water.

How are you finding the story so far? Would you like me to continue with the next chapter, or is there anything else you’d like to discuss regarding these characters?