Year 12 of Yongle, September. Beijing.
Song Yu'an had been living in the Eastern Palace for seven days and had already memorized the layout of the surrounding area.
From her small courtyard to the kitchen, it was exactly 137 steps. From the kitchen to the Great General's side room, it was 42 steps. From the side room to Zhu Zhanji's study, she hadn't counted—because she never went there.
To be precise, Zhu Zhanji didn't let her go there.
"This Prince's study is a restricted area. No idle persons allowed."
Song Yu'an had no objection to this. She had zero interest in Ming Dynasty studies—they were all vertical, traditional character Classical Chinese texts without punctuation; reading them gave her a headache.
She was far more interested in the animals within the Eastern Palace.
Within seven days, she had "incidentally" treated three animals: a myna bird kept by Eunuch Li, which had feather lice on its wings; a tabby cat kept by the kitchen manager, which had a thorn stuck in its paw; and a puppy that Ruolan had secretly told her about—abandoned behind the rear wall, no bigger than a palm, with eyes not yet open.
Song Yu'an had tucked the little puppy inside her robe, fed it sheep's milk all day long, and the tiny creature had finally survived.
"Miss, you can't just pick up everything and bring it into the room," Ruolan said, stamping her feet in anxiety. "His Highness will be angry if he finds out."
"Why would he be angry? He doesn't dislike dogs."
"It's not about the dog—it's... it's against the rules. You can't just raise things in the Eastern Palace; everything needs His Highness's approval."
Song Yu'an looked down at the puppy sleeping soundly in her arms, hesitated for a second, and said, "Then I'll go ask him."
"Miss!"
Zhu Zhanji was practicing calligraphy in his study.
Though it was called "practicing," his mind was actually in chaos. Yesterday, his grandfather (the Emperor) had summoned him to the palace, asked about his lessons, asked about his horse riding and archery, and then suddenly asked: "I heard there is a woman of unknown origin living in your Eastern Palace?"
His heart had skipped a beat at that moment, but he kept his expression calm: "Replying to Grandfather Emperor, she is a cricket doctor newly found by your grandson. Her medical skills are excellent; she cured the Great General."
Zhu Di had glanced at him, didn't press further, and only said one sentence: "Her background must be investigated clearly."
Zhu Zhanji had returned and immediately ordered an investigation. But this person, Song Yu'an, seemed to have popped out of a crack in a stone—no household registration, no neighbors, no one who knew her. The only information available was that she claimed to be from Wuxi, surname Song, with a family engaged in the silkworm and mulberry business.
This information was practically nothing.
He was just feeling annoyed when Eunuch Li's voice came from outside the door: "Your Highness, Miss Song is here."
Zhu Zhanji put down his brush and frowned. Didn't she never come to the study?
"Let her in."
The curtain was lifted, and Song Yu'an walked in. Her robe was bulging, as if she was hiding something inside.
"What are you hiding this time?" Zhu Zhanji's frown deepened.
Song Yu'an pulled out what was in her arms—a small puppy, palm-sized, yellowish-brown, with eyes just barely cracked open, shivering in her palm.
"Picked it up," she said. "Behind the rear wall. Don't know who threw it away."
Zhu Zhanji looked at the puppy and was silent for three seconds.
"Dogs are not allowed in the Eastern Palace."
"I know, that's why I came to ask you."
"Asking doesn't change anything."
"Why?"
"Rules."
"Rules are dead, but the dog is alive." Song Yu'an held the puppy closer to him. "Look at it; it's not even as big as my palm. If we don't keep it, it will freeze to death tonight."
Zhu Zhanji looked down at the puppy.
The puppy happened to sneeze, its tiny body shivering, letting out a squeak as thin as a mosquito's buzz.
The corner of Zhu Zhanji's mouth twitched.
"...Keep it in your own courtyard. It is not allowed in the main hall."
Song Yu'an smiled: "Okay."
She turned to leave, but Zhu Zhanji called her back: "Wait."
"What is it?"
"Aren't you going to ask why This Prince agreed?"
"Because you have a soft heart," Song Yu'an said without turning around. "I knew that on the first day."
Zhu Zhanji sat at his desk, watching the swaying curtain, motionless for a long time.
Eunuch Li whispered beside him: "Your Highness, Miss Song, she..."
"She what?"
"She seems... not afraid of Your Highness at all."
Zhu Zhanji was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled.
"This Prince knows."
The Great General was completely cured.
It was Song Yu'an's seventh day in the Eastern Palace.
When she fed the Great General in the morning, it ate five grains of rice in one go, its antennae held high, and it even circled twice inside the jar, full of energy.
"Alright," she said to Zhu Zhanji, who was standing at the door, "come take a look."
Zhu Zhanji took three long strides to cover two, looked down, and saw—the Great General was crouched in the center of the jar, its six legs firmly supporting its body, its mandibles opening and closing, looking majestic and imposing.
"Great General!" Zhu Zhanji's voice rose several octaves. "You're better!"
He reached out to touch it again.
Song Yu'an was quick-eyed and fast-handed, slapping his hand away instantly.
Slap.
Zhu Zhanji withdrew his hand and glared at her: "Hitting This Prince again!"
"I told you, looking is fine, but no touching. It just recovered; don't scare it."
Zhu Zhanji gritted his teeth, put his hands behind his back, bent down, and leaned in closer to look.
The Great General seemed to sense its master's gaze; it lifted its head and let out a crisp, loud "Ji" in his direction. The sound was clear and resonant, a world apart from the hoarse, weak chirp of seven days ago.
Zhu Zhanji's eyes suddenly turned a bit red.
He quickly turned his face away, pretending to look at the scenery outside the window.
Song Yu'an saw it but didn't expose him.
"Song Yu'an."
"Hmm?"
"What reward do you want?"
Song Yu'an thought for a moment: "I want to walk around the palace. Just stroll around and look."
"Just that?"
"Just that. I've been here for so many days and haven't even finished touring the Eastern Palace."
Zhu Zhanji pondered for a moment: "This Prince will take you."
"No need for you to lead; I can go my—"
"This Prince said I will take you, so I will take you."
Seeing his expression of "This Prince has the final say," Song Yu'an swallowed the "no need" that was on the tip of her tongue.
"Fine. Thank you, Your Highness."
Zhu Zhanji snorted, and the tips of his ears turned red again.
After touring the Imperial Garden, Song Yu'an sat on the railing of the corridor, too tired to move.
Zhu Zhanji sat down beside her—this was the first time he had casually sat down outside. Eunuch Li stood behind them, rubbing his hands together in anxiety, but dared not say a word.
The two sat quietly for a while.
In September in Beijing, the sky was high and the clouds were light. The osmanthus flowers in the Imperial Garden were blooming, sending wave after wave of sweet fragrance drifting over.
"Song Yu'an."
"Hmm?"
"You are from Wuxi?"
"Yes."
"How do you say it in the Wuxi dialect?"
Song Yu'an turned to look at him, stunned: "You want to learn?"
"This Prince is just asking." Zhu Zhanji turned his face away. "Is that not allowed?"
Song Yu'an smiled. She suddenly got interested, turned to face him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Sure. What does Your Highness want to learn?"
Zhu Zhanji thought for a moment: "How do you say 'Hello'?"
Song Yu'an suppressed a laugh and said seriously: "'Hello'... in Wuxi dialect, it's called Nai Hao'."
Nai...Hao?"
"Yes, Nai' means 'you', Hao' means 'good'. Put together, Nai Hao'."
Zhu Zhanji frowned and tried again: Nai...Hao?"
His tongue was obviously not obeying him; the sound Nai" coming from his mouth carried a heavy Northern accent, sounding more like he was saying Nai Hao" (Good Milk).
Song Yu'an bit her lip, her shoulders shaking.
"What are you laughing at?" Zhu Zhanji glared at her.
"Not laughing," Song Yu'an held back her laughter. "Your Highness speaks very well. Try it again."
Nai Hao." Zhu Zhanji tried again, this time with more force. The character Nai" was bitten heavily, sounding like Nai" (Endure).
Song Yu'an finally couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing with a "Pfft".
"You—" Zhu Zhanji's face turned red instantly. "You are laughing at This Prince!"
"No, no," Song Yu'an waved her hands while laughing. "Your Highness speaks... with great characteristics. Really. Northerners speak so nicely."
"You are mocking This Prince."
"I swear I'm not." Song Yu'an wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Your Highness, let me teach you another one. How do you say 'Have you eaten?'?"
Zhu Zhanji looked at her vigilantly: "You aren't going to laugh at This Prince again, are you?"
"No laughing, no laughing. Serious teaching."
Song Yu'an cleared her throat and said seriously: "'Have you eaten?'—in Wuxi dialect, it's called Chi Le Mi'."
Chi Le Mi?" Zhu Zhanji repeated. This sound was even harder for him. Chi...Le...Mi?"
The three characters coming from his mouth each dragged a long trailing tone, sounding like he was chanting a spell.
The corners of Song Yu'an's mouth twitched.
"Your Highness, try saying it together, faster."
Chi-Le-Mi—" Zhu Zhanji said it quickly. It sounded like "Ate rice," but with a strange tune that twisted several times.
Song Yu'an finally couldn't hold back and bent over laughing.
"Hahaha—"
"Song Yu'an!" Zhu Zhanji's face was red down to his neck. "You said you wouldn't laugh!"
"Sorry, sorry," Song Yu'an laughed until tears came out. "But Your Highness, when you say Chi Le Mi', it sounds like... like..."
"Like what?"
"Like Chi Le Mei' (Ate Coal)." Song Yu'an clutched her stomach. "Coal ball coal. Hahaha—"
Zhu Zhanji's face turned black.
"This Prince isn't learning anymore!"
"Don't, don't, don't," Song Yu'an quickly grabbed his sleeve. "Your Highness, let me teach you a simple one. How do you say 'Thank you'?"
Zhu Zhanji looked at her half-believing, half-doubting.
"Really simple. In Wuxi dialect, 'Thank you' is called Ya Ya'."
Ya Ya?" Zhu Zhanji tried it. This was indeed simple. Ya Ya."
"Correct! Your Highness speaks very well!" Song Yu'an gave a thumbs up. "One more time."
Ya Ya."
"Yes, yes, yes."
Zhu Zhanji felt like he was being treated like a child, yet strangely felt a bit happy.
"What else? Teach me another one."
Song Yu'an thought for a moment, a hint of cunning flashing in her eyes.
"Your Highness, do you know how to say 'I like you' in Wuxi dialect?"
Zhu Zhanji's ears turned red instantly.
"This Prince... why would This Prince need to learn this?"
"Just asking. If Your Highness wants to learn, learn; if not, forget it."
Zhu Zhanji was silent for two seconds.
"...How do you say it?"
Song Yu'an suppressed her laughter and said seriously: "'I like you'—in Wuxi dialect, it's called Wo Huan Xi Nai'."
"I...Huan Xi...Nai?" Zhu Zhanji spat out the words one by one.
"Together, faster."
Wo Huan Xi Nai." Zhu Zhanji said it quickly.
This time, it actually sounded decent. Although it still carried a Northern accent, the tone was about 70-80% correct.
Song Yu'an was stunned for a moment, then smiled: "Your Highness learns really fast."
Zhu Zhanji's ear tips were burning red; he turned his face away to avoid her eyes.
"This Prince is just learning casually."
"Mm, learning casually." Song Yu'an played along.
The two were quiet again for a while.
Zhu Zhanji suddenly spoke: "The language where you come from is quite nice."
"Really? Your Highness doesn't think it sounds bad?"
"Not bad," Zhu Zhanji said. "It's soft, sticky. Like... like osmanthus cake."
Song Yu'an smiled: "Is Your Highness praising the Wuxi dialect, or praising the osmanthus cake?"
"Both."
Song Yu'an looked at him and suddenly said: "Your Highness, let me teach you another one. Not Wuxi dialect, but... language from the Western Regions."
"Western Regions?" Zhu Zhanji became interested. "You know languages from the Western Regions?"
"A little." Song Yu'an nodded. "I learned it abroad."
This was the first time she had voluntarily mentioned the topic of "abroad." Zhu Zhanji didn't press for details; he just looked at her, waiting for her to continue.
"In the Western Regions' language, 'Hello' is called Ha Lou'."
Ha...Lou?" Zhu Zhanji tried it.
"Yes, Ha Lou'. Stress on the front, Lou' should be lighter."
Ha Lou." Zhu Zhanji tried again.
"Your Highness speaks very well!"
Zhu Zhanji felt a bit floaty from the praise: "What else?"
"'Thank you' is called San Ke You'."
San...Ke...You?" Zhu Zhanji frowned. San Ke You? Why does 'thank you' require three grams of oil?"
Song Yu'an bit her lip to suppress laughter: "It's just... the way they say it in the Western Regions. Probably means that saying thank you is like giving you three grams of oil."
"How much is three grams of oil?" Zhu Zhanji asked seriously. "Are the Western Regions' units of measurement the same as ours?"
Song Yu'an finally couldn't hold it in and laughed again.
"Your Highness, just remember the sound.San Ke You."
San Ke You." Zhu Zhanji recited it again. "Very strange."
"'You're welcome' is called You A Wei Er Kang Mu'."
You A Wei...Er Kang Mu?" Zhu Zhanji's tongue almost got tied. "What kind of language is this? Why is it so long?"
"Western Region languages are just that long."
"Then how do you say 'I like you'?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Zhu Zhanji regretted it.
Song Yu'an paused, looked at him, and slowly said: "'I like you'—in Western Region language, it's called Ai Lao Hu You'."
Ai...Lao Hu...You?" Zhu Zhanji widened his eyes. Ai Lao Hu You? What oil is Tiger Oil? Is it oil boiled from tigers?"
"Hahaha—" Song Yu'an laughed so hard she leaned back and forth, nearly falling off the railing.
"You are laughing at This Prince again!"
"No—" Song Yu'an laughed so hard she couldn't speak. "Your Highness—you understand it too—too literally—"
"Then what does it actually mean?"
Song Yu'an finally stopped laughing, wiped her tears, and looked seriously into his eyes.
"Ai Lao Hu You' means 'I like you'. There are no tigers, and no oil. It just means... liking."
Zhu Zhanji's ears were thoroughly red.
He didn't speak, just looked into her eyes.
Wave after wave of osmanthus fragrance drifted over.
Ai Lao Hu You." He suddenly whispered it once more.
This time he said it very lightly, very softly, as if afraid someone might hear.
Song Yu'an's heartbeat skipped a beat.
"Your Highness speaks... very well." Her voice was much softer than usual.
Zhu Zhanji stood up quickly, turned his back.
"This Prince... This Prince needs to go practice martial arts. Li Quan, let's go."
Eunuch Li responded from behind and hurried to follow.
Zhu Zhanji walked a few steps, then suddenly stopped and said without looking back:
Ai Lao Hu You."
Then he strode away, his ear tips as red as boiled shrimp.
Song Yu'an sat on the railing, watching his retreating figure, stunned for a good while.
Then she buried her face in her hands and laughed muffledly.
"What is this..." she murmured softly, her voice soft with a Wuxi dialect trailing tone.
Ruolan stood nearby, having witnessed the whole process from start to finish, her face also red.
"Miss," she whispered, "Just now His Highness said..."
"He was practicing a foreign language," Song Yu'an interrupted her. "To learn a language, you must practice more."
Ruolan looked at the girl's red ear tips and wisely did not expose her.
No one expected that the next day, the Emperor would come.
To be precise, the Yongle Emperor, Zhu Di, suddenly arrived at the Eastern Palace.
He claimed to be there to "check on his grandson's lessons," but when Eunuch Li ran ahead to report, his expression looked like he was reporting a funeral.
"Your Highness! The Emperor is coming! He has already passed the Meridian Gate!"
Zhu Zhanji was practicing calligraphy in the study; the brush in his hand dropped onto the table with a "snap," splashing ink all over the desk.
"Grandfather Emperor is coming? Now?"
"Arriving immediately!"
Zhu Zhanji jumped up, his brain spinning rapidly—The study was tidy, the lessons were done, the Great General was healthy—
Wait.
Song Yu'an.
Could Grandfather Emperor be coming to see Song Yu'an?
Before he could think further, the sharp voice of a eunuch came from outside: "The Emperor arrives—"
Zhu Zhanji hurried out to welcome him, kneeling at the courtyard entrance: "Grandson respectfully welcomes Grandfather Emperor."
Zhu Di strode in, wearing a black casual robe, walking with the gait of a dragon and the step of a tiger. Although over fifty, his posture was upright, his spirit vigorous, and his eyes sharp as an eagle's.
Behind him followed only two personal guards and an old eunuch; the entourage wasn't large, but the presence was overwhelming.
"Get up, get up," Zhu Di waved his hand, his tone casual. "I'm just here to see you. Skip these empty formalities."
Zhu Zhanji stood up and followed Zhu Di into the courtyard.
Zhu Di's gaze swept over every corner of the yard, finally landing in the direction of the small side room.
"I heard your Great General is better?"
"Replying to Grandfather Emperor, yes. Thanks to the newly found cricket doctor."
"Cricket doctor?" Zhu Di raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curving slightly upward. "I want to see for myself what skills this 'Miss Song from Wuxi' possesses to have cured my grandson's heart's treasure."
Zhu Zhanji's heart suddenly tightened.
Zhu Di had already strode toward the small side room.
Inside the small side room, Song Yu'an was changing the water for the Great General.
She had no idea what was happening outside.
When Ruolan ran in, her face was pale: "Miss! Miss! The Em—Em—"
"Em what?"
"The Emperor is here! He's at the door!"
The water bowl in Song Yu'an's hand nearly fell to the ground.
The Emperor? The Yongle Emperor? Zhu Di??
She had only been in the Ming Dynasty for seven days; she wasn't ready to meet the Emperor yet!
But she had no choice but to be ready.
The curtain was lifted, and a tall figure walked in.
Song Yu'an looked up—
Standing before her was a man in his fifties, tall and broad, with a square face and large ears. There was an aura of commanding dignity between his brows without needing to show anger. But at this moment, there was no anger on his face; instead, there was a hint of curiosity, as if looking at some fresh novelty.
Behind him followed Zhu Zhanji, looking as nervous as a cat whose scruff had been grabbed.
"You are that veterinarian?" Zhu Di looked her up and down.
Song Yu'an took a deep breath, trying to look less flustered.
"Replying to Your Majesty, I am Song Yu'an, a veterinarian."
She did not kneel.
It wasn't intentional—she had genuinely forgotten. After five years in Australia, she had long forgotten what the kneeling posture even looked like.
Zhu Zhanji behind her was making frantic eye signals.
Zhu Di, however, wasn't angry; instead, he laughed: "Get up, get up. I'm just here to look. I heard you cured the Great General?"
"Yes." Song Yu'an pointed to the cricket jar beside her. "The Great General is right there. Does Your Majesty want to see?"
Zhu Di walked over and looked down into the jar at the Great General.
The Great General was crouched in the center of the jar, antennae held high, full of energy. Seeing someone approach, it even let out a cry in Zhu Di's direction, "Ji—", the sound crisp and loud.
"Good!" Zhu Di's eyes lit up. "This sound is much stronger than when I heard it last month! Back then it sounded weak and feeble; I thought this one was a goner."
"When Grandfather Emperor last visited, the Great General was sick," Zhu Zhanji said from the side.
"Indeed," Zhu Di turned to look at Song Yu'an. "How did you cure it?"
Song Yu'an answered truthfully: "Inflammation of the right mandible. Changed the jar, adjusted the humidity, applied honeysuckle and dandelion juice for a few days, and it was cured."
Zhu Di listened, nodded, and suddenly chuckled: "I have lived for over fifty years, and this is the first time I've heard of someone treating a cricket. Novel."
He turned and sat down on a chair, crossing his legs, looking nothing like an emperor, more like a neighborly old grandpa dropping by for a chat.
"I heard from Zhanji that you are from Wuxi?"
"Yes."
"What does your family do?"
"Silkworm and mulberry business. My father knows how to treat livestock illnesses; I learned from him since childhood."
Zhu Di hummed an "Mm," his gaze lingering on her face for a moment.
"You speak quite straightforwardly," he said. "Unlike those who tremble upon seeing Me."
Song Yu'an didn't know how to respond to this, so she just smiled.
Zhu Di suddenly turned to Zhu Zhanji and said: "I heard that yesterday you were learning the Wuxi dialect with someone in the Imperial Garden?"
Zhu Zhanji's face flushed red instantly.
"How did Grandfather Emperor—"
"What don't I know?" Zhu Di laughed heartily. "So loud in the Imperial Garden, Nai Hao', Chi Le Mi'; I could hear it all the way from the Qin'an Hall!"
Song Yu'an nearly burst out laughing, biting her lip hard to hold it in.
Zhu Zhanji's face was as red as a boiled shrimp: "Grandson... Grandson was just learning casually."
"Learning casually?" Zhu Di looked at him with interest. "Then how well have you learned? Say a couple of sentences for Me to hear."
"Grandfather Emperor—"
"Go on. I also want to hear what the Wuxi dialect tastes like."
Zhu Zhanji looked at Song Yu'an with a pleading expression.
Song Yu'an suppressed her laughter and whispered: "Your Highness, just say Nai Hao'. It's simple."
Zhu Zhanji took a deep breath, as if going to the execution ground, held his breath for a long time, and squeezed out:
"..Nai Hao." (Sounding like "Good Milk")
Zhu Di paused for a second, then erupted into loud laughter.
"Hahaha—Good Milk? What are you saying? Are you asking someone for milk to drink?"
Zhu Zhanji wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.
Song Yu'an corrected softly from the side: "Your Majesty, the Nai' in Nai Hao' is a dental sound, not retroflex. Your Highness pronounced it too heavily."
After finishing his laugh, Zhu Di suddenly got interested: "Then teach Me. I'll try."
Song Yu'an was stunned.
The Emperor wanted to learn the Wuxi dialect from her??
Zhu Zhanji was also stunned: "Grandfather Emperor—"
"What? He can learn, but I can't?" Zhu Di said righteously. "My old bones have seen and heard a lot; learning a few sentences of Wuxi dialect today, what's wrong with that?"
Song Yu'an steadied herself and said seriously: "'Hello' is called Nai Hao'. Your Majesty, give it a try."
Nai...Hao?" Zhu Di tried once.
"Better than His Highness," Song Yu'an said honestly. "But the sound of Nai' would be even better if it were shorter."
Nai Hao." Zhu Di tried again. This time it was short and powerful, actually sounding quite decent.
"Your Majesty speaks very well!" Song Yu'an praised sincerely.
Zhu Di looked proudly at Zhu Zhanji: "Did you hear that? I speak better than you."
Zhu Zhanji: "..."
"Is there anything else?" Zhu Di asked enthusiastically. "How do you say 'Have you eaten?'?"
Song Yu'an hesitated for a moment: Chi Le Mi."
Chi Le Mi?" Zhu Di frowned and recited it once; it came out sounding like "Ate Rice" Chi Le Mi).
"That's about the meaning," Song Yu'an quickly said, not daring to tell him what the standard pronunciation actually sounded like.
Zhu Di nodded satisfactorily, then suddenly remembered something: "Oh right, Zhanji was also saying something like Ai Lao Hu You' yesterday? What language is that? Is that also Wuxi dialect?"
Zhu Zhanji's pupils underwent an earthquake.
Song Yu'an's smile froze on her face.
"Grandfather Emperor! That is—" Zhu Zhanji's voice changed pitch.
"What is it?" Zhu Di looked at him curiously. "I heard people say you were muttering Ai Lao Hu You' several times in the Imperial Garden; I thought it was some new spell."
Song Yu'an bit her lip, her shoulders shaking.
Zhu Zhanji's face went from red to white, from white to green, finally settling on an expression of lifelessness.
"That is... language from the Western Regions." His voice was as small as a mosquito's hum.
"Language from the Western Regions?" Zhu Di became interested. "What Western Regions language? Let's hear it."
"Grandfather Emperor, that—"
"Go on. I want to learn too."
Zhu Zhanji looked at Song Yu'an, his eyes writing "Help me".
Song Yu'an lowered her head, pretending to organize the Great General's jar, her shoulders shaking even harder.
Zhu Zhanji took a deep breath and said with a tone of facing death:
"..Ai Lao Hu You."
Zhu Di listened, silent for three seconds.
Then he laughed, laughing so hard he leaned back and forth, slapping his thigh.
"HahahaAi Lao Hu You? Tiger Oil? What kind of language is this? Oil boiled from tigers?"
Song Yu'an finally couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing with a "Pfft".
Zhu Zhanji wished he could die on the spot.
"Grandfather Emperor, it doesn't mean oil, this is—"
"What does it mean?"
Zhu Zhanji opened his mouth, unable to say it.
Zhu Di looked at his grandson's red face, then at Song Yuan who was lowering her head and suppressing laughter, and suddenly understood something.
He didn't expose it, just shook his head with a smile.
"Alright, alright," he stood up, patted Zhu Zhanji on the shoulder. "I won't delay your study of Western Regions language. Study hard, and when you've learned it well, teach Me a few sentences."
"Grandfather Emperor!"
Zhu Di had already strode out of the small side room, his laughter ringing loudly from the courtyard.
Reaching the door, he suddenly stopped, turned around, and said:
"Oh, Miss Song."
Song Yu'an quickly stood straight: "I am here."
"There is a horse in My Imperial Stables that hasn't been eating much recently. If you have time, go take a look for Me."
Song Yu'an paused, then nodded: "Okay."
Zhu Di smiled and strode away.
Zhu Zhanji stood in the small side room, the blush on his face not yet faded.
"Have you laughed enough yet?" he glared at Song Yu'an.
Song Yu'an wiped her tears: "Laughed enough."
"You're still laughing!"
"I'm not," Song Yu'an tried to put on a serious face. "Your Highness, the Emperor told you to study Western Regions language well. Want to practice Ai Lao Hu You' again?"
Zhu Zhanji took a deep breath and turned to leave.
Reaching the door, he suddenly stopped and said without looking back:
Ai Lao Hu You."
This time he said it smoothly, fast and light, as if he had practiced it many times.
Then he ran.
Song Yu'an stood in the small side room, watching the swaying curtain, stunned for a good while.
Then she buried her face in her hands and laughed muffledly.
Ruolan whispered from the side: "Miss, it seems the Emperor just now figured it out."
"Figured out what?"
"Figured out... the meaning of what Your Highness said, Ai Lao Hu You'."
Song Yu'an's smile paused for a moment, her ear tips slowly turning red.
"You saw wrong," she said.
Ruolan didn't refute, just smiled.
That evening, the Imperial Kitchen sent over a new dish—Braised Pork, simmered with Tiger Bone Sauce.
Eunuch Li conveyed the message: "The Emperor said this dish is called Ai Lao Hu You Braised Meat'. Please enjoy, Your Highness."
Zhu Zhanji looked at that bowl of braised pork, his expression indescribable.
Eunuch Li suppressed his laughter: "The Emperor also said that Western Regions language sounds very nice, and asked Your Highness to learn a few more sentences to teach His Majesty later."
Zhu Zhanji was silent for a long time.
Then he picked up a piece of meat and stuffed it into his mouth.
"Is it good?" Eunuch Li asked cautiously.
Zhu Zhanji chewed twice and said expressionlessly:
"..Ai Lao Hu You."
Eunuch Li finally couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing.
(End of Chapter 3)