She had just removed his clothes with her own hands, and now she had to put them back on for him, piece by piece.

Once she had straightened all the edges of his garments, Yun Ya finally said, “Let’s go.”

“Where to?” she asked with anticipation, wondering what kind of trouble he would stir up.

“To eat, of course,” he replied matter-of-factly. “If we don’t leave now, Shun Dong Feng will have no seats left.”

“…” So he hadn’t forced her to surrender herself just because he was afraid of missing dinner?

She, the dignified Princess Changle, a beauty who could topple kingdoms, couldn’t compare to a meal?

Wait, that wasn’t right—her focus seemed to have shifted.

“By the way,” he suddenly turned to her with a serious face, “since you’re also going to participate in my plan, you’ll have to make some sacrifices tonight.”

She also became solemn: “Please instruct me.”

“You probably won’t get to eat the lamb hot pot tonight.”

The prosperity of Yao Capital ranked among the best in the world, and its culinary industry was highly developed. Everyone in Yinzi City knew that for donkey meat with sauce, one went to Xian Lai Ju; for crystal pork knuckle and crispy pastry pigeon, one went to He Man Lou; and for the most authentic lamb hot pot, one had to go to Shun Dong Feng.

At night, the bustling streets of Yao Capital were still filled with carriages and horses. Shun Dong Feng had already hung up its “full house” sign early.

Yun Ya had arrived relatively early and secured a table for himself by showing his credentials as a special envoy from the Kingdom of Lang Yu.

Shun Dong Feng was not open to commoners. To dine here, one had to verify their identity—those who could enter were either wealthy or noble.

Outside, the cold air was penetrating, but inside the building, steam rose from the charcoal pots at each table. The pots here were all regular hexagons, with bodies colored in imperial yellow and sky blue, each polished to a shine, with short charcoal burning underneath.

Not long after sitting down in the main hall, the lamb hot pot Yun Ya ordered arrived. This was Shun Dong Feng’s famous specialty.

The soup was milky white with a unique fragrance, with red dates and dried longan floating on the surface. Several large pieces of lamb spine bobbed up and down, already simmered to tenderness. Customers could first taste the delicious lamb spine, with the hard bones pre-cracked for easy access to the marrow. Shun Dong Feng even provided special straws—reed tubes only one-third the thickness of chopsticks, with clear centers.

This wasn’t Yun Ya’s first visit, but each time he would drink two bowls of soup to quench his thirst. The people of Yinzi loved lamb, and restaurants serving lamb soup were found throughout the city, but Shun Dong Feng stood at the top for good reason. Yun Ya knew from his first taste that whole fish had been used in the soup to extract this special aroma. The fish had to be fried golden first to help create the milky white broth.

One sip would make your eyebrows fall off from the deliciousness.

As for what kind of fish it was, customers didn’t know. Whatever gave that unique aroma wasn’t a common fish. Before the pot was brought to the table, all the fish meat had been removed, without even a trace of fish skin left, leaving no clues for guessing.

When they had nearly finished gnawing on the bones, the sliced meat for hotpot finally arrived.

The slices here used lamb with skin, pre-cooked, with the skin fat uniformly yellow. After being scalded, it melted in the mouth like jelly—crisp and not greasy, very refreshing. Dipped in a bit of sauce, even young ladies could quickly finish an entire plate.

By the way, the sauce dishes here were also special, made of neither porcelain nor pottery, but tin in the shape of small boats, no longer than a middle finger. They held various condiments, with charcoal fire heating them from below to ensure that every bite of food remained warm.

Other places’ lamb soup might be delicious, but they usually add herbs to reduce the gamey taste. Only Shun Dong Feng’s lamb contained no medicinal flavor, yet was so fresh it gave you a jolt, making your whole body feel invigorated.

Of course, most importantly, the soup contained a trace of spiritual energy.

Though it was just a fine thread of energy, it justified the jaw-dropping price. This was the true value of Shun Dong Feng’s lamb hot pot. Regular consumption could extend the lives of ordinary people, not to mention the benefits for cultivators.

As Yun Ya was about halfway through his plate of lamb, several burly men in light armor climbed up the stairs. The shop assistants greeted them with enthusiasm exceeding that shown to ordinary customers, bowing deeply: “The gentlemen have arrived. Still the private room at Wang Zhu Garden?”

“You know it, so why ask?”

The assistant immediately led them to a private room to the west. Soon, dishes and wine were being carried in continuously.

The customers waiting downstairs became dissatisfied: “Why do they get seated first when they arrived later, while we still have to wait here?”

A regular customer of Shun Dong Feng nearby explained: “It’s not about getting a number. The owner of Shun Dong Feng has close ties with the City Guards. They always reserve a private room for the City Guards, no matter how good business is.”

With such a connection, others could only envy but not emulate.

Yun Ya also ordered a pot of aged wine to sip slowly while leaning against the railing to gaze downward. Although the temperature in Yinzi City was warmer than other places, it had still dropped to about four or five degrees Celsius after dark recently, and the cold air was still piercing. In such weather, to sit in front of a bubbling hot pot, take a bite of lamb and a sip of strong wine—what could be more satisfying in life? Thinking of Feng Miaojun’s eyes lighting up at the mention of Shun Dong Feng, yet now unable to have a single bite, he couldn’t help but let a smile play at the corners of his mouth.

A moment later, several people approached from below. The leading man in brocade clothes had regular features and slightly dark skin.

If Feng Miaojun were here, she would recognize him as the Wei envoy she had seen in the Yao royal palace, Qiao Tianxing.

According to custom, distinguished guests had to verify their identity before going upstairs. But when Qiao Tianxing revealed his identity as an envoy from Wei, he encountered trouble.

The attendant at the entrance looked at the token and decree he presented, and his expression changed: “You are from Wei?”

“Yes.” Qiao Tianxing didn’t yet know what the problem was, while other waiting customers began to whisper among themselves. After all, the appearance of someone from Wei on Yao soil would touch many sensitive nerves. “Someone arranged to meet me upstairs. They should have arrived by now.”

The attendant straightened his back, and the smile on his face faded: “Please wait a moment. I need to ask for instructions.”

“What does this mean?” He wasn’t a commoner, and someone was waiting for him upstairs. He shouldn’t need to queue, yet the attendant wouldn’t let him up.

To his surprise, the attendant ran inside, only turning back to toss him a line: “Just wait here.”

A mere shop assistant daring to be disrespectful to a foreign envoy? Qiao Tianxing’s brow twitched. As he was about to go upstairs himself, two large men blocked the stairway, one on the left and one on the right.

If he wanted to go up, he would have to fight these two. Qiao Tianxing had guards protecting him and didn’t take these two seriously, but he had come to meet someone for dinner, not to fight and cause trouble. Besides, Shun Dong Feng’s upper floor was full of distinguished guests, and he didn’t want to lose face there.

He swallowed this anger.

Before long, the attendant returned, followed by a woman in purple clothes. She had a slender figure, and was no more than forty years old, with long eyes, a pointed nose, high cheekbones, but very thin lips. According to physiognomy books, this was the standard appearance of a harsh person.