In the seventeenth year of the Kaihuang era, I wrote my will in the examination hall.

Chapter 35 A Temporary Cease to Sharpen My Edge, the Kitchen Comforts Me

Yang Yan's fingers tapped slowly on the yellowed document, "Discussion on the Occupation of Land by Slaves in the Third Year of the Kaihuang Era".

The thought of paying homage to Gao Jiong had barely crossed his mind when he extinguished it himself.

Who was Gao Jiong? He served in the Northern Zhou and Sui dynasties, experiencing decades of ups and downs in his official career, rising from a key reformer to the prime minister of the empire, and was connected to the imperial family and the Guanzhong region.

Fourteen years is enough time to change everything. Today's Gao Jiong is most likely no longer the enterprising reformer he once was.

According to Yang Yan's speculation, Gao Jiong is now a maintainer of the existing order and a member of the vested interest group! At most, he can be described as a moderate reformer.

Knocking directly on the door is like a child carrying a treasure and parading it around in the marketplace.

Without further hesitation, Yang Yan crumpled the written visiting card into a ball and casually tossed it into a copper charcoal brazier beside him.

The flames suddenly flickered, and the sheet of hemp paper covered with sharp writing instantly turned into a wisp of smoke.

The sword must be kept in its sheath, waiting for the right time to be drawn.

He is currently too weak in foundation and his wings are not yet fully grown.

Rather than being a pawn charging into battle, what he needs to do is become the player who can see the chessboard clearly.

The first step in playing a game is to clean the chessboard around you.

He carefully put away the document he had found in the old paper pile, "Discussion on the Occupation of Land by Slaves in the Third Year of Kaihuang".

For the next five days, Yang Yan used the excuse of recuperating from his injuries to completely stay at home.

The people in the Eastern Palace assumed that the Prince of Changning had been frightened and needed to rest, and did not pay much attention to it.

Mother Yun Zhaoxun became the only regular visitor to the warm pavilion—she had obviously learned the general outline of her son's torture from Crown Prince Yang Yong. Although she did not know the dangers of the dragon robe, her heartache was real.

Every day, she would send someone to deliver ginseng soup and fine meat dishes.

For the first two days, he personally sat by the bedside, holding prayer beads, and repeatedly told him to rest and not to worry about anything else.

Yang Yan could only endure the stinging pain when changing the dressing on his buttocks, forcing a well-behaved smile as he agreed to everything.

On the third day, perhaps seeing that his complexion had improved, Yun Zhaoxun took his personal maid to the Chanding Temple in the west of the city, saying that he wanted to fast and pray for him for seven days, asking Buddha for protection.

Watching the carriage disappear into the distance, Yang Yan breathed a sigh of relief.

Yun's care was genuine, but those gentle yet scrutinizing eyes also required him to always be on high alert in his "performance".

These past few days, he has needed to sort out the complex knowledge and plans in his mind. With him not around, he has less burden and it is easier for him to make certain adjustments.

"Yu Wen." Yang Yan put down the bamboo scroll in his hand and called out without looking up.

"What are your orders, sir?" Yu Wen, the eunuch standing by the door, immediately bowed and replied, his voice as humble and respectful as ever.

"I'm a little tired, you can leave now."

"Here you are."

Yu Wen quietly slipped out and gently closed the door behind him.

That gaze followed him like a shadow, and even through a door, he still felt a thorn in his side.

Whether reading, eating, or taking a nap, Yu Wen always appears in a spot that is neither too close nor too far.

Was he sent by Yang Yong to protect him? Or... was he a spy planted by Yang Guang?

Or perhaps, the emperor grandfather, who sat high on the throne, also harbored a desire to monitor his grandson.

He dared not gamble.

Once you enter this place, the people around you must be those who make you feel at ease and are easy to get along with.

Moreover, he is ultimately a modern man at heart, and he always feels a sense of distance from men serving him personally.

……

Two days later, the servants in Yang Yan's courtyard had quietly changed.

Yu Wen was given the pretext of being "mature and reliable, capable of managing the estate," and was sent to guard the Crown Prince's estate in the suburbs.

Instead, there were three unfamiliar newlyweds: one man and two women.

The head maid was named Xiao Zhao, about fourteen or fifteen years old, with clean features and nimble hands and feet.

It is said that his ancestors were official chefs in the Southern Chen Dynasty, and the family's culinary skills have not been lost.

At this moment, she was in the cubicle next to the study, facing an unprecedented "task" and seemed somewhat at a loss.

"Your Highness, what... what is this? Why is an iron plate used to roast meat?" She held a plate of sliced ​​beef tenderloin in front of her. In front of her was a brick stove with a square iron plate on it, with some protruding iron bars on it—this was made urgently by the craftsmen of the Eastern Palace by Yang Yan based on his memory description.

"The Book of Rites says, 'Roast millet and roast pork,' an ancient method of roasting meat, which is not limited to open flames." Yang Yan casually quoted a classical text, veiling this "invention" with a thin veil of mystery. "This iron plate heats evenly and can lock in the meat juices. Just do as I say."

The diet during the Sui Dynasty consisted mainly of steaming, boiling, roasting, and stewing. Meat was either overcooked or burnt, and seasonings were bland.

After eating this for several days, Yang Yan's modern digestive system had already begun to protest.

In his past life, he often cooked his own steaks to stay fit.

Now trapped in time and space, this desire for food has become the most tangible way to combat nothingness and confirm one's own existence.

"Sizzle—"

As the meat fat rubs against the hot iron, a rich aroma, a blend of charred fragrance and pure meaty flavor, bursts forth, distinct from the gentle steaming or the smoky aroma of grilling over an open flame, instantly filling the small room.

Xiao Zhao was startled by the overpowering fragrance and took a half step back, her eyes filled with astonishment.

"Flip it over! Just count to ten in your head! Remember to fry all six sides." She hurriedly used wooden chopsticks to flip the beef over one by one.

"Xiao Zhao, don't fry this beef for too long, it won't taste good if it gets tough." Yang Yan looked at the beef, which was almost fully cooked, and shook his head helplessly.

"Your Highness, this...this beef is still bloody and half-cooked. I'm afraid...it's inedible, isn't it?" Xiao Zhao looked at the beef on the hot plate, still bloody inside, her voice filled with fear.

Having worked in the Eastern Palace since childhood, she was used to the exquisite and complicated dishes in the Imperial Kitchen. This kind of "raw meat and blood" eating style was something she had never seen before.

"Who said that? You don't understand. That's the freshest and most delicious way to cook it."

Seeing that it was almost ready, Yang Yan picked up a piece of cut beef with chopsticks, blew on it, and put it in his mouth.

There was no black pepper, no butter, and not even a decent sauce.

He simply sprinkled some finely ground salt on the surface of the meat.

Although it only contained fine salt, the taste was almost identical to that of steak in later generations, bringing a rugged and direct sense of satisfaction.

Perhaps because the cattle of this era are naturally raised, their meat is firm and flavorful, closer to the essence of "meat" and tastier than the complexly processed steaks of my memory.

Yang Yan chewed slowly, then closed his eyes.

Outside the window lay the oppressive and chaotic night of the seventeenth year of the Kaihuang era, while inside the study lay conspiracies and schemes powerful enough to shake the world.

Only at this moment, in the Eastern Palace where one could say "enemies are everywhere," only this hot and familiar taste on his tongue could give his ever-tense modern soul a moment of real relaxation and comfort.

……

Outside the side hall of Ganlu Hall in Yong'an Palace.

Yang Yan, dressed in brand-new black robes and crimson skirts, with his hair tied up and wearing a crown, stood quietly with his head bowed.

Inside the hall, the fragrance of sandalwood wafted through the air, and the warm glow of the glass lamps from the Western Regions illuminated the golden Buddha statue, making it appear majestic and dignified.

The air was filled with the scents of precious spices and faint herbs, which were calming and awe-inspiring.

The faint tingling and itching from the injuries to his buttocks and legs was nothing compared to the tension in his heart.

Finally, the maid's clear, cold voice pierced through the fragrant mist: "Her Majesty the Empress summons Prince Changning to the palace."

Yang Yan straightened her brand-new black and crimson robes and stepped into the palace that represented the highest female power in the Sui Dynasty.