Chapter 63: She Ate the Dish That Had Touched His Lips
The birthday banquet had now reached the point where multiple courses had been served, and various noble families continued to announce their auspicious greetings and present their gifts.
Gan Qiongying’s bold maneuvers for the evening were largely complete. She had prevented Wen Xueling from captivating the world with a dance as in the original plot, which would have sparked five tumultuous, ill-fated romances, and had successfully placed her own people close to the Grand Princess for future use.
For now, she called a temporary halt to her schemes. She pulled Lihua to sit beside her and focused on enjoying the meal.
Just as they did at home, Gan Qiongying eagerly picked up a fresh pair of chopsticks and began serving Lihua.
“This cold appetizer is sweet and sour—very appetizing. Try this first,” she said, placing a modest bite-sized portion on his plate.
Lihua ate it.
“This braised venison should be good too, but don’t eat too much—it’s heating and might make you uncomfortable later. Have just two slices…” As she spoke, she added two pieces to the small dish by his hand.
Lihua’s ears were already tinged with pink, but he still picked them up and ate them, chewing delicately. It was indeed delicious.
“This fish is also well-prepared. I tried a bit earlier—even though it’s cooled, there’s no fishy taste. Give it a try.”
She carefully removed the larger bones before placing the fish beside his dish.
Lihua pressed his lips together, noticing the sidelong glances from others. He nudged Gan Qiongying with his knee, a signal for her to tone it down.
At home, her excessive attentiveness might make the maids blush, but this was a public setting.
However, when Lihua nudged her, Gan Qiongying was momentarily puzzled. She looked at him and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Noticing his gaze fixed on a soup bowl at the corner of the table, she immediately understood. “Oh, you want some of that old duck soup?”
She rolled up her sleeves, rose from her kneeling position at the table, and leaned over to ladle some soup for Lihua.
That wasn’t what Lihua had meant—he had simply been avoiding the curious stares around them by looking elsewhere…
But Gan Qiongying interpreted his nudge as, “I want that—you get it for me!”
After all, when Gan Qiongying was a child attending wedding banquets with her mother, if she couldn’t reach a dish, she would bump her mother’s leg under the table, signaling her to fetch it—and she always ended up satisfied.
She knew Lihua was gentle and reserved, unlikely to help himself freely. Unlike at the Princess Manor, where chefs from the imperial kitchen were on call around the clock, here she felt like a mother taking her “child” to a banquet, worried he might hold back out of politeness and go hungry later.
But she was wearing formal attire, with sleeves as wide as palm-leaf fans, making it quite a challenge to serve the soup smoothly.
Her maids stood by motionless, led by Manyue with Tianjiao at her side, all watching Gan Qiongying’s efforts with expressions of utter familiarity.
No one stepped in to help, which puzzled onlookers. But this was exactly what Gan Qiongying had instructed—she had told her two young maids that this was a form of marital affection and they shouldn’t interfere.
In truth, Gan Qiongying was simply seizing every opportunity to earn favor in front of her “God of Wealth.”
I love money, money loves me—may wealth pour in from all directions, overwhelming and abundant, spilling from the hands of the God of Wealth!
Gan Qiongying struggled a bit before finally managing to serve the soup. Once seated again, she placed the bowl beside Lihua’s hand and said, “Drink up.”
Then she picked up her own chopsticks and began to eat as well. She wasn’t as elegant as Lihua, but her beauty made even her eating a pleasure to watch.
Lihua’s ears were burning red. With more and more people watching them, he felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles. He had never received so much attention in his life, and now there was far too much of it—it was like being locked in a cage for everyone to gawk at.
But Gan Qiongying was completely accustomed to it. In her eyes, this was the most natural kind of interaction.
To others, however, it looked like a deliberate performance.
After all, in this world, no matter how deeply a couple loved each other, at most the wife might personally prepare a meal—and even then, only one or two dishes as a token gesture. Serving food was left to attendants. Such attentiveness… well, even some concubines might go to such lengths to curry favor, but Gan Qiongying was a Princess of noble birth and high status—why on earth would she stoop to this?
Lihua usually served Gan Qiongying food too—a habit she had cultivated in him. How frightening habits could be! He hadn’t been with her for long, yet he already found this way of eating perfectly normal.
But today, with so many people watching, Lihua’s hand hesitated several times when he wanted to serve her, too afraid to reach out. He ate in such embarrassment that he couldn’t even taste the food.
Gan Qiongying, however, thought nothing of it. When Lihua first started eating with her, he had been just as reserved. She had gradually nurtured this habit in him step by step.
Husbands and wives might not act this way, but devotees and their gods would. How could mere love compare to worship?
The Prince Consort could turn his hand to clouds or rain—this was the hand that spun gold, born to hold treasures. How could it be used to pick out fish bones?
To be honest, Gan Qiongying had tried feeding Lihua before, but hadn’t he refused, finding it too mushy?
Was this feeding him or serving him food? No, she was making offerings to a deity.
Every time Gan Qiongying served him a bite, she thought to herself: Add a little more to my allowance next month, oh great one!
Some people kept glancing over frequently. Wen Xueling, who had been forced to move her table farther away earlier, could hardly eat at all. Watching Gan Qiongying attentively serve her Consort—whom she saw as merely decent-looking but whom Gan Qiongying treated like a treasure—her expression… if this were the modern era with widespread internet, it could be summed up in a few words: subway, old man, looking at phone.
Even Princess Hui’an was both amused and exasperated. Wumei beside her twitched at the corner of her mouth—after all, she had reprimanded the Prince Consort earlier that day over Gan Qiongying’s affairs. Who would have thought Duan Rong treasured this merchant Consort to such an extent?
Weren’t they said to have a poor relationship, with a whole courtyard of male consorts kept besides?
Lihua didn’t dare nudge Gan Qiongying with his elbow again, afraid that if he accidentally glanced at something else, she would run to another table to fetch it for him—she was absolutely capable of doing that.
Thinking of this, for some reason, Lihua felt a thick, honey-like sweetness welling up in his heart, even as his ears burned. From then on, everything he ate tasted sweet.
In all his life, he had never been treated as a normal person deserving of care, let alone being unreasonably doted on like a helpless child.
When someone lacks something, once they finally have it, they tend to indulge in it almost recklessly.
So, despite the many scrutinizing gazes and even whispers around him, Lihua still served Gan Qiongying a strand of shredded meat.
Softly, he said, “This is roasted donkey meat, a dish from Shenzhou. It’s quite authentic—try it.”
“Is that so?” Gan Qiongying very naturally picked up the food with her chopsticks and chewed, then said softly, “It’s delicious.”
But Lihua watched her lips moving slightly as she chewed, feeling an indescribable heat rise from his chest, rushing straight to his throat. It was as if he would exhale smoke the moment he opened his mouth.
He had just… forgotten to switch the chopsticks between them when serving her food, instead using the ones that had touched his own mouth.
Lihua had always been a proper gentleman, never acting inappropriately in daily life. In his entire life, he had never uttered any improper words or committed any transgressions. Even during that brief moment of loss of control in the carriage, he had only thought of touching Gan Qiongying’s soft cheek.
But now, watching her eat the food that had been touched by his saliva, he felt a belated shame so intense he wished he could disappear.
Although they shared a bed every night, he only dared to hold her when she was asleep…
“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?” Gan Qiongying touched her cheek. Lihua quickly lowered his head, his fingers trembling slightly as they gripped the chopsticks.
Gan Qiongying wiped her face a few times and asked Lihua if there was still anything there.
Her lips were slightly greasy from eating. Lihua’s gaze fell on them in a fluster, nearly slipping into her slightly parted mouth. He hurriedly lowered his eyes and shook his head.
His other hand, resting on his knee, clenched tightly, digging into his thigh.