As they chatted, it soon reached mealtime. Seeing that neither Zhao Wenhua nor Hu Zongxian showed any intention of leaving, Zhu Ping’an had no choice but to arrange for a meal to be prepared.
“Oh, Zihou, look at you… But please, no extravagance or waste. Three dishes and one soup will do for the three of us.”
Zhao Wenhua made a polite remark.
Zhao Wenhua took the seat of honour, facing south, while Zhu Ping’an and Hu Zongxian sat opposite each other. The table was set with six dishes, one soup, and a pot of tea.
“Look at you, Zihou. Didn’t I just say? Three dishes and one soup would’ve been fine, but you went and prepared six dishes and a soup. Don’t do this again, don’t do this again, alright?” Zhao Wenhua grumbled at the table, but his face was brimming with satisfaction.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Zhu. I’ll shamelessly indulge.” Hu Zongxian chuckled, cupping his fists in gratitude towards Zhu Ping’an.
Zhao Wenhua was the first to pick up his chopsticks, taking a bite. As he chewed, his eyes suddenly widened.
“What’s wrong? Is the food poisoned?” Hu Zongxian, seeing Zhao Wenhua’s expression, froze with his chopsticks hovering over a dish, too scared to take a bite.
“Meilin, quick, try this! This food is delicious—better than imperial cuisine, not inferior to the chefs at the Grand Secretary’s residence!”
Zhao Wenhua urged Hu Zongxian to taste the dishes.
Hu Zongxian took a bite, and indeed, it was delicious. As for whether it was better than imperial cuisine, he couldn’t say—he’d never eaten it. Nor had he dined at Grand Secretary Yan’s residence; he hadn’t even set foot in Yan Song’s home, let alone eaten there.
“Teacher Zhao flatters me. I’ve had the honour of tasting imperial cuisine and dining at Grand Secretary Yan’s banquets. Their flavours far surpass my humble fare.”
Zhu Ping’an shook his head. He was telling the truth. While his household’s food was genuinely tasty, claiming it outdid imperial cuisine or Yan Song’s feasts was an exaggeration. He wasn’t just someone who’d seen pigs run—he’d eaten the pork himself.
“Oh, the flavours are different. Imperial cuisine is grand and majestic, not suited for the stomachs of ordinary folk like us. The banquets at the Grand Secretary’s residence are known for their luxury, rarity, exquisiteness, and refinement—stunning at first taste. But eat them too often, and they lose their charm; they’re not satisfying. Otherwise, why does the Grand Secretary visit Liubiju every so often? Why does Donglou frequently host feasts elsewhere? It’s to change things up. Your household, Zihou, is different. Your food is both refined and down-to-earth, perfect with rice. This is true human delicacy!”
Zhao Wenhua commented with the air of an experienced connoisseur.
“Indeed, Lord Zhu. I may not have tasted imperial cuisine or the Grand Secretary’s banquets, but this meal is truly the best I’ve had since arriving in Jiangnan. Especially the pickled vegetables served with it—so crisp and refreshing, they really whet the appetite!” Hu Zongxian chimed in, his chopsticks moving swiftly as he spoke.
“Well said, Meilin. Since arriving in Jiangnan, I’ve had lavish banquets almost daily, but this meal is the best, bar none.” Zhao Wenhua gave a thumbs-up, nodding in agreement.
“Heh, if it’s good, eat more.” Zhu Ping’an smiled.
Zhao Wenhua did eat heartily, polishing off two bowls of rice. Hu Zongxian was no different, also downing two bowls.
“Say, Zihou, how about it? Could you part with your chef? I’ll trade you ten fine steeds, each capable of travelling a thousand li.”
Sated and content, Zhao Wenhua spoke half in jest, half in earnest.
“I’m afraid I must disappoint you, Teacher Zhao. My wife adores the chef’s cooking and can’t do without it for a single meal. If I gave the chef to you, my household would be in chaos.” Zhu Ping’an shook his head with a smile, replying half in jest, half in earnest.
“Hahaha, truly, even heroes can’t resist a beauty’s charm. Since it’s something your dear wife loves, I’ll be a gentleman and not take what’s cherished.”
Zhao Wenhua laughed heartily, waving his hand and abandoning the idea of acquiring the chef.
“Speaking of eating, it reminds me of a man’s life. Seventy years is rare, as the ancients said. How many live as long as my adoptive father, Grand Secretary Yan? In these brief seventy years, ten are spent in ignorant youth, ten in frail old age, leaving just fifty. Half of those fifty are day, half are night, leaving a mere twenty-five years. Add in wind and rain, disasters and illnesses, running here and there—how many good days are left to truly enjoy? It’s short, so short it makes one’s heart race. So, Zihou, Meilin, life is fleeting—seize the day. Whether it’s the pleasures of the palate or chasing fame and glory, it’s all enjoyment. Serving the world doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves, does it?”
During tea after the meal, Zhao Wenhua held his teacup, lightly skimming the tea with the lid, speaking like a life mentor to Zhu Ping’an and Hu Zongxian.
Zhu Ping’an’s lips twitched slightly, offering a polite smile while keeping his retorts to himself.
“Lord Zhao speaks wisely. Embracing the world doesn’t preclude bettering oneself. I serve the people, pleading their cause. Just because the common folk eat husks and swallow vegetables doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy meat and wine.” Hu Zongxian heartily agreed with Zhao Wenhua’s words.
“To serve the world and enjoy ourselves, we need one word: harmony. As the saying goes, harmony brings wealth.”
Zhao Wenhua continued with a smile.
“So, Zihou, I truly, truly admire you. To be honest, when I came, Donglou told me to deal with you. But as you’ve seen, in the great victory of the sea sacrifice, with so many people—including Meilin—I credited you with the primary merit. And with your subsequent achievements, I’ve reported them all to His Majesty, requesting rewards for you. Just now, when you mentioned your difficulties, I did everything in my power to resolve them. Why? Why didn’t I follow Donglou’s orders, not only refraining from troubling you but supporting you? For the sake of one word: harmony.”
Zhao Wenhua grew more animated as he spoke, even revealing the confidential instructions Yan Shifan had given him before leaving the capital.
Hu Zongxian was slightly surprised to hear Zhao Wenhua mention Yan Shifan’s secret orders. But knowing Zhao Wenhua well, he understood there must be a deeper intent behind these words, so he didn’t interrupt or caution him, lest he overstep and ruin Zhao Wenhua’s plans.
Zhu Ping’an wasn’t surprised to hear Zhao Wenhua mention Yan Shifan’s orders to deal with him. Even if Zhao Wenhua hadn’t said it, Zhu Ping’an knew that Yan Shifan and Yan Song would have instructed Zhao Wenhua to handle him while overseeing the sea sacrifice in Jiangnan.
The whole reason Zhu Ping’an had left the capital was because he’d supported Yang Jisheng’s impeachment of Yan Song, offending the Yan faction. It would be stranger if the Yan faction didn’t try to deal with him.
Zhao Wenhua, a high-ranking member of the Yan faction, had come from the capital to Jiangnan. It would be odd if Yan Song and Yan Shifan *hadn’t* told him to take care of Zhu Ping’an.
As for the sea sacrifice victory, Zhao Wenhua crediting him with primary merit wasn’t due to the reasons he claimed. Zhu Ping’an had turned the tide in that battle, with countless officials, generals, and common folk as witnesses. Plus, he had the right to submit secret memorials to the emperor. Zhao Wenhua couldn’t *not* credit him with the primary merit.
As for Zhao Wenhua’s claim of using himself as bait to lure the Japanese pirates deep into their trap—what nonsense. Zhu Ping’an had detected the threat in advance, prepared accordingly, and turned the situation around. Zhao Wenhua hadn’t known a thing until the pirates were at their doorstep. His claim of luring them was just self-aggrandisement, and Zhu Ping’an had to play along. Could Zhao Wenhua afford not to credit him?
And as for resolving difficulties today, wasn’t that just a trade-off for Zhao Wenhua claiming credit for the great victory in Zhejiang?
