Chapter 541: Truth After Wine

Delicacies from land and sea—shark fin, bird’s nest soup.

The flavors were exquisite, each bite lingering on the tongue with indulgent satisfaction.

This family banquet prepared by the Li household thoroughly gratified Zhu Ping’an’s appetite. There was no grand display of pomp or ostentation—only the warm, intimate atmosphere of a family gathering. Yet the sheer abundance and refinement of the dishes rivaled, and perhaps even surpassed, the rare luxuries one might find in the capital itself.

“Shu’er, try this.”

“This one tastes wonderful—serve some to Shu’er.”

“This venison was freshly prepared this morning. The meat is especially tender—Shu’er mustn’t miss it.”

From the flow of the meal alone, one could easily tell just how dearly Li Shu was cherished. Master Li’s voice never ceased, constantly instructing the maids to serve her more food. It was as though at the slightest pause in conversation, another dish would be placed before her—an unending tide of care disguised as culinary insistence.

It seemed as if the wealthy master worried that Li Shu had not eaten well during her stay at Zhu Ping’an’s home these past days. Determined to make up for it, he ordered dish after dish to be brought forth like a flowing river, as though he wished to present every delicacy in the world before his beloved daughter.

But Li Shu, mindful of her figure, merely tasted each dish lightly, favoring mostly vegetables. As a result, the vast majority of the sumptuous feast ended up benefiting Zhu Ping’an instead.

And as the endless stream of delicacies satisfied his hunger, an odd feeling began to stir within him.

Before entering, Master Li had mentioned that he had specifically instructed the kitchen to prepare a table full of Li Shu’s favorite dishes. Yet as each plate was served, Zhu Ping’an couldn’t shake a strange sense of familiarity.

Because every single dish… was something he knew well.

More than that—it would not be an exaggeration to say that every dish was one he personally loved.

Honey-glazed chicken drumsticks.

Butter almond pastries.

Flaky meat pies rich with savory juices.

Secret-recipe braised pork.

Almost every dish on the table—Zhu Ping’an had eaten them before. Not once or twice, but many, many times.

“Braised chicken drumsticks—so fragrant! They’re made with honey glaze, you know. One bite and you’ll want to swallow your tongue! Haha, look at you, you’re drooling already.”

“Zhu Ping’an, I’m not lying to you. If you don’t believe me, just try it.”

“Father is so annoying… clearly I’m already full, and yet he keeps stuffing me with these things.”

“Oh well, no one else is eating them anyway. Help me throw them into the river, will you?”

“Hehe, you scaredy-cat! Don’t worry, I didn’t add anything strange to these pastries this time. I brought them especially for you.”

“I specifically asked the cook to make these. If you tell me a story, I’ll let you eat them—but you’d better be quick. They won’t taste good once they get cold.”

As Zhu Ping’an savored each dish at the banquet, scenes from his childhood surfaced vividly in his mind—one after another. He could almost see it: a proud, slightly haughty little girl holding out a box filled with all kinds of delicacies, standing before him with a lifted chin and sparkling eyes.

It was as if that arrogant little loli had come to life again, standing right in front of him.

One year.

Two years.

From a pigtailed child to a graceful young maiden.

These dishes—he had eaten them countless times before.

And now, an image he had never fully considered before suddenly formed in his mind: a short-legged little girl ordering the kitchen to prepare delicious foods, packing them carefully into boxes. Her father, naturally assuming these were her favorites, indulging her without question…

Never realizing that every single one of those treats ended up in the belly of a short-legged, chubby boy.

The thought was so strange, so unexpectedly poignant, that Zhu Ping’an found himself glancing at Li Shu again and again as he ate.

That brat…

Even while eating, he can’t help staring at my daughter.

Hmph. At least the boy has good taste.

Zhu Ping’an’s repeated glances did not escape Master Li’s notice. The hostility on his face softened slightly, and the invisible clash of tension at the dining table diminished—though only by a little.

Meanwhile, at the table, Li Shu’s third brother, confident in his drinking capacity, had set his sights on a different objective: to drink Zhu Ping’an under the table. From time to time, he raised his cup, urging Zhu Ping’an to drink with him, all the while spouting things like, “If you don’t drink, you’re disrespecting me. If you don’t drink, you’re looking down on me. If you don’t drink, then you must have a problem with my sister!”

This was his brother-in-law, after all—and with words pushed this far, how could Zhu Ping’an refuse? Though fully aware of his own low tolerance, he could only raise his cup and accompany him.

Watching her third brother repeatedly drag Zhu Ping’an into drinking contests, Li Shu’s dark, ink-like eyes flickered slightly. Without drawing attention, she leaned over and whispered something into the ear of her bun-faced maid.

After Third Brother Li pulled Zhu Ping’an into yet another round, Li Shu pouted slightly and said in a soft, coquettish tone, “Third Brother, it’s not good to drink alcohol cold—it’s bad for the body. Honestly, you never take care of yourself. Hua’er, go fetch some warmed wine.”

Hearing his little sister’s concern, Third Brother Li’s face lit up with pride, a flush spreading across it. He shot Zhu Ping’an a triumphant glance, as if to say—See that? My sister cares about me.

Under Li Shu’s instruction, the bun-faced maid led a few servant girls to the kitchen. Soon, they returned carrying several small jars of warmed wine. A few were placed on the table, while one small jar each was set before Third Brother Li and Zhu Ping’an.

“Come, brother-in-law—don’t disappoint the wine my sister warmed for you.”

Seeing the wine arrive, Third Brother Li immediately raised his cup again, eager to press his advantage. He had already noticed a hint of drunkenness in Zhu Ping’an and intended to strike while the iron was hot—to knock him under the table and give him a proper show of dominance. The thought of imminent victory lifted his spirits.

“Hua’er, pour wine for my husband,” Li Shu instructed softly, glancing at Zhu Ping’an as she pressed her cherry lips together.

“Yes, Miss.” The bun-faced maid nodded eagerly and trotted over to fill Zhu Ping’an’s cup.

She poured it to the brim—so full it nearly overflowed.

Third Brother Li was very satisfied.

Zhu Ping’an, however, looked at the brimming cup with a bitter smile. This girl… couldn’t she pour a little less?

“Brother-in-law?” Third Brother Li urged.

Left with no choice, Zhu Ping’an raised his cup and drank alongside him. As the liquid slid down his throat, he cast a curious glance at the bun-faced maid.

The maid stuck out her tongue mischievously before continuing her diligent work, each time filling Zhu Ping’an’s cup to the brim.

And then—

It was as if Zhu Ping’an had been possessed by the God of Wine.

Under Third Brother Li’s relentless challenges, he only grew more composed with each round. After half a jar had been emptied, Third Brother Li himself began to feel the effects, his head spinning slightly—yet Zhu Ping’an remained calm and steady, his face neither flushed nor strained.

“Brother-in-law… impressive tolerance,” Third Brother Li slurred at last, his tone carrying newfound respect. He had not expected this frail-looking scholar to outperform him in his own field. For the first time, he began to see Zhu Ping’an in a different light.

“Ahem… just average,” Zhu Ping’an replied somewhat awkwardly.

What “tolerance”? It was more like a tolerance for water—but that was hardly something he could say aloud.

From the side, Li Shu cast him a knowing glance, her lips curving faintly in a half-smile. Under her gaze, Zhu Ping’an could only laugh sheepishly. The “wine” poured by the bun-faced maid was, in fact, warm water—and Zhu Ping’an knew very well whose idea that had been.

One couldn’t help but wonder—if Third Brother Li ever found out he had been drinking real wine while Zhu Ping’an had been drinking water… what would he think?

Zhu Ping’an himself remained perfectly sober.

But Master Li… was another matter entirely.

Watching his treasured daughter—whom he had cherished and protected for fourteen years—now married off to another man, the thought of her leaving his side in the future felt as though a piece of his heart had been carved out. The more he drank, the heavier his sorrow grew—until he was thoroughly intoxicated.

Clutching a white jade wine flask, the drunken Master Li staggered over to Zhu Ping’an, his expression sharp, his gaze critical.

“Boy,” he began, his voice thick but resolute, “there is a girl whose parents raised her for fourteen years—treasured her like a jewel. Afraid she might fall if held too loosely, afraid she might melt if held too tightly. She grew up clever, gentle, and obedient.”

“She has not eaten a single grain of your family’s rice, nor drunk a single cup of your family’s tea. And yet, just because she marries you, she must treat your parents as her own—respect them, honor them, serve them.”

“She goes from a young lady surrounded by attendants, her fingers never touching household chores… to a wife concerned with oil, salt, sauce, and tea. She must care for your daily needs, be filial to your parents, manage your household… and in the future, bear your children—carry them for ten months, give birth to them, and even let them take your surname!”

His voice trembled with emotion, his grip tightening around the flask.

“Tell me—if you were to betray her after all that… wouldn’t you deserve to go to hell?”