After shouting, the burly man felt like crying.

Five taels of silver! If not for other reasons, he’d have to be insane to spend five taels of silver on a bowl of spring noodles.

“Spring noodles coming through!” Before long, Sheng Sanlang, dressed as a server, came up carrying a medium-sized tray.

On the tray was a blue-and-white porcelain bowl, steaming hot.

The burly man looked at it carefully.

A bowl of spring noodles costing five taels of silver—he had to examine it thoroughly.

Silver thread-like noodles sat in clear broth, adorned only with some scallion garnish on top.

The scallions were emerald green, quite pleasing to the eye, but no matter how green, they were still just scallions, not jade.

Really not a single piece of meat!

The burly man picked up his chopsticks in grief and indignation, then suddenly froze.

These chopsticks… seemed to be made of silver!

He couldn’t quite believe it but was too embarrassed to ask. He picked up a chopstick-full of noodles and brought them to his mouth.

As the noodles entered his mouth, the burly man immediately froze.

Chewy, smooth, and indescribably delicious—was this really spring noodles?

Though doubting in his heart, his hands reacted quickly.

For a moment, only the sound of the burly man slurping noodles in ravenous gulps could be heard.

Glug glug—the burly man lifted the blue-and-white bowl and drank the last drops of broth, not even sparing the scallions, then began staring blankly.

He suspected what he’d eaten wasn’t spring noodles.

Spring noodles cost ten copper coins per bowl—he ate them regularly.

“Does the guest wish to order anything else?” Kou’er asked with a smile.

The burly man came back to his senses and looked down at the bowl he’d licked completely clean.

As if he could order freely—wasn’t it only roasted pig’s head anyway?

Thinking of this, the burly man felt like crying again.

If even the spring noodles were this delicious, just how good must that damned roasted pig’s head taste!

“Another bowl of spring noodles!” The burly man ground out these words through clenched teeth.

His shout was a bit loud, catching the attention of the old Minister buried in eating roasted pig’s head.

“There are spring noodles too?” Minister Zhao, with sauce on his beard, asked Hong Dou in confusion.

The burning liquor was too delicious, the roasted pig’s head too tasty—for a moment he’d forgotten to order other appetizers.

Grand Marshal Luo was treating, yet he only ordered roasted pig’s head—wasn’t that disrespectful?

“Bring up a plate each of whatever other appetizers you have.”

Hong Dou found Minister Zhao extremely agreeable, her smile becoming even sweeter: “Besides roasted pig’s head, we also have spring noodles.”

Minister Zhao: “…”

Wasn’t this the same as saying nothing?

The female innkeeper quickly walked over: “My apologies, the shop just opened and our preparations were insufficient. Today’s appetizers are only roasted pig’s head.”

“Then what will you have tomorrow?” Minister Zhao asked reflexively.

Wei Han raised his chopsticks without speaking, though he was actually quite concerned about this question too.

“Tomorrow—” The female innkeeper glanced resentfully at Luo Sheng and squeezed out through gritted teeth, “Tomorrow we’ll have braised beef.”

“What else?”

“Nothing else.”

Minister Zhao fell silent.

Today only roasted pig’s head, tomorrow only braised beef—since either way there’s only one dish, what does this have to do with insufficient preparation?

But for the sake of the roasted pig’s head, he’d come again tomorrow.

“Your Highness, would you like to try the spring noodles?” As the host, Minister Zhao was very considerate.

Wei Han was concise: “One bowl.”

Minister Zhao said to Hong Dou: “Three bowls of spring noodles.”

Originally he’d thought one roasted pig’s head would be too much, but now he vaguely felt it wasn’t enough—so he’d have another bowl of spring noodles.

The three bowls of spring noodles were served shortly after.

Minister Zhao nodded reservedly at Hong Dou: “Bring another serving of roasted pig’s head.”

“Two servings,” Wei Han corrected calmly.

Minister Zhao was stunned for a moment.

He hadn’t expected Prince Kaiyang could eat so much too.

Lin Teng, restraining his flushed face, looked at his superior: “Minister, this subordinate feels he could eat another serving as well.”

Minister Zhao said decisively: “Three servings of roasted pig’s head.”

Sheng Sanlang rushed over, his expression serious: “Guest, isn’t three servings a bit much?”

“Not much at all—just one per person.” Minister Zhao hadn’t thought much of it. Because he was eating happily, he explained good-naturedly.

“But you… after all, roasted pig’s head eaten in excess is hard to digest—”

An old Minister at your age, aren’t you embarrassed eating like this?

Minister Zhao’s expression remained calm: “Just bring the food. If we can’t finish, we can take it to go.”

Sheng Sanlang’s whole body trembled as he cast a pleading look at Shi Yan.

Shi Yan understood, but with his master right here, what could he say?

Seeing Shi Yan was no help, Sheng Sanlang steeled himself and said: “The guest should know, our roasted pig’s head costs one hundred taels of silver per serving.”

Minister Zhao’s beard quivered.

After all, having navigated the official circles for decades, he still had the ability to suppress a sharp scream.

After collecting himself, Minister Zhao asked word by word: “One hundred taels of silver per serving?”

“Correct. Won’t sell for even one coin less.” To protect his own portion of roasted pig’s head, Sheng Sanlang had gone all out.

The female innkeeper stamped her foot: “Sheng San—”

Sheng Sanlang remained expressionless: “Clear pricing, honest to all. Can’t wait until people finish eating to tell them the price.”

The female innkeeper’s eyes glazed over as she returned to the counter.

Meanwhile, Minister Zhao sat in silence, calculating how much the three of them had eaten and drunk so far.

Having done the math, the old Minister nearly fainted.

Though he held the rank of Minister, he was an upright person who handed over his salary to his wife upon receiving it—he didn’t have much private money!

It was over, over—he couldn’t pay the bill. Later the censors would impeach him, and when the Emperor asked what happened—

Uh, the Minister of Justice ate without paying.

Heavens, his lifelong reputation would be completely ruined—wait a minute!

Minister Zhao perked up, suddenly remembering.

He was a shill—Grand Marshal Luo was paying for this meal!

Having recovered, the old Minister nodded reservedly at Sheng Sanlang: “Bring three servings of roasted pig’s head, and add three more pots of wine.”

Sheng Sanlang went to serve the food with heartache.

Lin Teng looked at his superior in surprise.

He truly hadn’t expected Minister Zhao to be so generous.

Minister Zhao’s expression didn’t change, steady as a mountain.

The wine house was opened by Grand Marshal Luo’s precious daughter—Grand Marshal Luo naturally knew what the prices were.

That being the case, as a dignified second-rank high official, why should he be hesitant and reserved? That would only make Grand Marshal Luo seem stingy.

Just three words: Eat heartily!

Of course, the main reason was still that it was too expensive—if he wanted to eat it again in the future, he’d have to pay out of his own pocket and couldn’t indulge so freely.

With the spirit of “every bite less is a huge loss,” Minister Zhao finished off his second serving of roasted pig’s head.

In the end, Hong Dou really couldn’t take it anymore and said with a dark expression: “The three guests can come again tomorrow evening. Tomorrow evening we’ll have braised beef.”

Minister Zhao wiped his mouth and said reluctantly: “Let’s settle the bill.”

Coming tomorrow would mean paying from his own pocket—how could that be the same?

Hong Dou took out the bill and recited: “Six servings of roasted pig’s head, six hundred taels; ten pots of wine, three hundred taels; eight bowls of spring noodles, forty taels. The total comes to nine hundred forty taels.”

Minister Zhao remained calm as a mountain: “Put it on the Minister’s residence account. Give me the bill—someone will come settle it tomorrow.”

“Credit?” Hong Dou’s voice suddenly rose sharply.

At this moment, Luo Sheng spoke up: “Hong Dou, give the bill to Minister Zhao.”

Hong Dou reluctantly stuffed the bill to Minister Zhao, muttering: “How can we allow credit?”

Minister Zhao pretended not to hear.

If not credit, would they keep him here washing dishes?

Luo Sheng, who had been sitting by the counter the whole time, gracefully walked over.

“Has Minister Zhao eaten well?”

“Very well.”

Luo Sheng nodded and looked at Lin Teng: “Did Young Master Lin enjoy the meal?”

Wei Han, who had been skipped over: “…”