The Scholar’s Unconventional Little Wife - Chapter 7

No one ever expected that making a simple batch of osmanthus cake would take an entire day.

It wasn’t that Xu Wangyou lacked skill. On the contrary, the problem was that her skills were too good.

The freshly harvested osmanthus blossoms had to be meticulously sorted, removing all impurities and stems to leave only the most plump and intact flowers. When Xu Wangyou worked on this task, that same near-obsessive focus resurfaced.

She sat on a small stool with a white cloth spread before her. Her fingers darted through the golden blossoms, moving with such speed and precision that every single flower she picked was flawless. Even the tiniest stem or fragmented petal, if it managed to slip through, was instantly detected by her fingertips and gently plucked away.

Lin Ruo’an watched from the side, thinking it looked less like sorting osmanthus and more like selecting some rare, priceless jewels.

“You don’t need to be so thorough,” she couldn’t help but say. “Good enough is fine. They’re just going to be mixed into the batter anyway.”

Xu Wangyou looked up and gave her a very serious glance before shaking her head. “It’s not the same.”

As for what exactly was different, she couldn’t quite explain it. She simply lowered her head and continued her meticulous sorting.

The sorted osmanthus blossoms had to be gently rubbed with salt to remove their astringent taste, then rinsed and left to dry. Xu Wangyou’s touch was so light and even that it seemed she wasn’t handling fragile petals, but a living creature that needed careful soothing.

By the time the osmanthus was ready, it was already afternoon. Xu Fenggu had mixed the glutinous rice flour and non-glutinous rice flour into a dough, added the osmanthus syrup, and was just about to fold in the dried blossoms.

Xu Wangyou, who had been watching silently beside her, suddenly spoke up. “The water is a little low.”

Xu Fenggu paused, glancing at her. “Hmm?”

Xu Wangyou pointed to the dough. “At this moisture level, the dough will be too dry after it rises. Add this much,” she gestured a tiny amount with her fingers, “and it will be just right.”

Xu Fenggu raised an eyebrow. She pinched a small piece of the dough, rolling it between her fingers, then glanced at the dry weather outside, lost in thought. A moment later, she actually took the water bowl and, following Xu Wangyou’s almost imperceptible gesture, added a tiny bit of water to the dough before kneading it again.

Lin Ruo’an watched, dumbfounded. How could she tell? Was it observation, or some kind of… intuition?

The rice batter, now infused with osmanthus, was ready to be steamed. Xu Wangyou took over the task of tending the fire. She pulled up a small stool and sat before the stove, watching the flames from a short distance. Whenever the fire strayed from what she deemed the “perfect” intensity, she would swiftly adjust the firewood with the tongs. The heat within the stove remained steady and even, neither too fierce nor too weak, just right.

The sweet aroma of steaming osmanthus cakes began to waft through the air. The fragrance of osmanthus mingled with the scent of rice, filling the kitchen with a cozy warmth that drifted into the front shop. A few regular customers sniffed the air and asked, “Boss Lady Xu, what’s cooking? It smells amazing!”

Xu Fenggu, slicing braised side dishes, shot back with a playful scold, “You’re not getting any! This is for my boy to eat when he gets back from his exams!”

Listening to the laughter and chatter from the front, and breathing in the sweet scent that grew heavier by the moment, Lin Ruo’an felt the tension and exhaustion of the past few days slowly melt away, smoothed over by the comforting warmth of the kitchen.

But trouble has a way of finding you just when you’re most relaxed.

Just as the first batch of osmanthus cakes was about to be done, a thunderous crash erupted from the storefront, followed by the violent clatter of tables and chairs being overturned and several short, panicked screams.

“A fight! There’s a fight!” a customer cried out in alarm.

Xu Fenggu’s expression hardened. She dropped her kitchen knife and rushed forward. Lin Ruo’an’s heart tightened, and she instinctively followed, Zhou Wenyuan’s brooding face flashing through her mind. Could he have sent someone to cause trouble after failing his exams?

When they burst into the main hall, they found the scene in complete chaos. Two tables had been flipped, and shattered cups, plates, and bowls littered the floor, scattering soup and vegetable leaves everywhere. In the center of the room, two men were locked in a brawl, or more accurately, a hulking brute with a face full of scars was gripping a young man by the collar with one hand, raining down merciless blows with his massive fist.

The young man, dressed in a short-sleeved martial arts tunic, was likely an apprentice from the neighboring martial arts school. His face was covered in blood as he ever so desperately struggled to break free, but to no avail. A few other young men in similar tunics stood nearby, wanting to help but too intimidated by the brute’s fierce glare to step closer.

“Stop!” Xu Fenggu shouted.

The brute paused, glancing askance. Seeing a woman in an apron, he sneered, “Get lost, you old hag! Mind your own business!” With that, his fist began to descend again.

Just then, a slender figure emerged silently from behind the curtain leading to the kitchen.

It was Xu Wangyou.

Her appearance caused the chaotic scene to freeze in an eerie moment of stillness.

The brute’s gaze lingered on her face for a second before he twisted his lips into an even more contemptuous sneer. “Another one here to die?”

Xu Wangyou ignored him, not even glancing his way. Her eyes were fixed on the overturned table, where a plate of Xu Fenggu’s signature braised platter lay shattered. The braised meat and tofu curd had rolled onto the floor, covered in dust.

She looked at the pieces of tofu curd by her feet, her brow furrowing slightly. “What a waste,” she said softly.

The brute blinked, confused by the girl’s strange comment. But Xu Wangyou had already raised her head, her calm gaze meeting his.

Then, she took a step forward.

“What are you doing?!” The big man roared, his temper flaring at her unnervingly calm demeanor. He swung his massive left hand, as large as a winnowing fan, with enough force to send her stumbling back.

What happened next occurred in the blink of an eye.

Before anyone could register the movement, Xu Wangyou’s wrist flicked almost imperceptibly. The tip of the fire poker, at a strange angle, “just happened” to tap a specific spot on the man’s wrist.

“Aaaagh!” The man let out a distorted scream of agony. His entire left arm convulsed as if struck by lightning, then went limp. The fierce snarl on his face twisted into a mask of pure pain. His right hand, which had been clutching the apprentice’s collar, instinctively flew open.

Freed, the apprentice scrambled to his feet and dove behind his companions.

Everyone stood frozen in confusion. All they had seen was the big man shove Xu Wangyou, only for him to scream and let his arm drop. What had happened?

Even Xu Wangyou looked stunned.

She looked up at Xu Fenggu, like a child who had just made a mistake.

“Mother… I didn’t mean to.”

The shop fell into a deathly silence.

Accidentally?

Accidentally? She’d just lightly tapped him with the tip of the fire poker, and yet this brute, who could lift a grown man with one hand, had his entire arm crippled.

The brute’s face was slick with cold sweat from the agony. He glared at Xu Wangyou, his eyes filled with a mixture of horror and fury, as if he were seeing a ghost. He tried to move his left arm, but a searing pain shot through him, leaving it completely useless.

“What… what kind of dark magic did you use?!” his voice cracked.

Xu Wangyou looked even more confused, her brow furrowing deeper as she struggled to understand what “dark magic” meant. She turned to Xu Fenggu, her eyes pleading for help, as if to ask, Did I say something wrong? He really looks like he’s in pain, but I only… lightly touched him.

Xu Fenggu’s gaze flickered between her daughter and the brute, her expression a complex mix of emotions. But in an instant, her usual fierce demeanor returned. She stepped forward, hands on her hips, and snarled at the man, “What dark magic? You’re the one who pushed her, and you’re the one who ran into the fire poker! Who are you blaming? Serves you right! Now get out of my shop before I kick you out! If you break anything else, you’ll pay me ten times its value!”

Her voice was sharp and clear, ringing with such confidence that it instantly drew everyone’s attention away from Xu Wangyou.

The burly man clutched his arm, his expression a mix of shock and suspicion. He tried to make sense of it all—his arm had suddenly gone limp for no apparent reason. The girl might be just a woman, but she’s clearly dangerous, he thought. A wise man knows when to retreat.

“You… You’d better watch your backs!” he snarled, a final, desperate threat. Then, gritting his teeth against the pain, he stumbled out of the shop, completely abandoning the apprentices he’d just beaten.

The chaos ended as abruptly as it had begun, in a way no one could have predicted.

The remaining patrons exchanged bewildered glances, still reeling from the shock. The injured apprentices quickly approached Xu Fenggu and Xu Wangyou to offer their thanks.

Xu Fenggu waved them off, urging them to get their wounded companion to a doctor. She then gestured for the shaken customers to return to their seats, announcing that today’s meal was on the house to help them settle their nerves. Zhao Siniang snapped out of her daze and immediately began clearing the wreckage from the floor.

Lin Ruo’an remained frozen in place, her heart pounding. She turned her gaze toward Xu Wangyou.

Xu Wangyou had already lowered her gaze, staring blankly at the fire tongs in her hand. Her eyes held a trace of loneliness, as if she were truly apologetic for “accidentally” hurting someone.

Lin Ruo’an walked over and patted her shoulder gently. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “It’s not your fault. He started it.”

Xu Wangyou looked up at her, her clear eyes reflecting Lin Ruo’an’s image. She nodded silently, but the tension in her shoulders seemed to relax slightly.

“What are you all standing around for?” Xu Fenggu’s voice boomed from the front of the shop, her forceful tone dispelling the last of the tense atmosphere. “The osmanthus cake should be steamed by now! If you don’t check the fire, it’ll burn! What a mess, that bastard’s bloody stench has ruined the sweet aroma! Wangyou, go, check the fire!”

“Oh,” Xu Wangyou replied obediently, turning to head back into the kitchen.

Lin Ruo’an watched her disappear behind the curtain, lost in thought.

Accidentally…

How many of these “accidents” had she had?

And what kind of person was this Xu Wangyou, who possessed such “accidents”?

Out front, Xu Fenggu had already swiftly regained her composure, chatting and joking with the regulars to liven up the atmosphere. But Lin Ruo’an noticed that as her mother wiped the tables, her gaze occasionally drifted toward the kitchen. It wasn’t just simple worry, but something deeper and more complex, as if she were confirming something, or perhaps steeling herself for a decision.

Night fell, and the lanterns were lit.

The Xu Family Restaurant glowed with warm light as the aroma of food once again filled the air. The steamer of freshly made osmanthus cake was brought out. The cake was snowy white and translucent, studded with golden osmanthus blossoms. Its sweet fragrance wafted through the air, and its soft, chewy texture was so delicious one could almost swallow their own tongue.

Lin Ruo’an took a bite, the sweet flavor melting on her tongue. She looked across at Xu Wangyou, who was nibbling on the cake. Sensing her gaze, Wangyou looked up, a crumb of cake clinging to the corner of her mouth, and a naive, innocent smile bloomed on her face.

It was as if the day’s heart-stopping events had been nothing more than an inconsequential dream.

But Lin Ruo’an knew it was no dream.

Once a clue is revealed, it can never be hidden again.

Just like the sweet fragrance of this osmanthus cake, once you’ve tasted it, you can never forget it.

Support