On our wedding night, Xie Zhuo, the devil of the capital, tossed a venomous snake into my arms. “If you're scared, get out.”
I grabbed it by the neck. “Would you like snake soup, my lord, or should I soak it in liquor?”
While he stood there dumbfounded, I had already made him a calming tonic. “You have dark circles under your eyes. You must not be sleeping well.”
Later, he took me along to stir up trouble, and a bunch of young dandies egged me on to dance.
I served up pork stir-fried with chilies. “My husband has a weak stomach. He needs to eat first.”
As the provocateur wept and snotted from the heat, Xie Zhuo suddenly put an arm around my waist:
“Anyone who scares my wife again will get arsenic in their soup next time.”
At a palace banquet, his sworn enemy smashed an imperial vase and blamed me.
I threw myself into Xie Zhuo's arms and wailed, “It's all your fault for saying breaking things relieves stress...”
The emperor flew into a rage. Gritting his teeth, Xie Zhuo took the blame. “Your Majesty, I've been reading the Analects lately, and the pressure has been overwhelming.
A devil of the capital and a sweet-on-the-outside, dark-on-the-inside “culinary genius” make a sweet-and-sour baby soup ^O^
