HE With the Cold Male Protagonist C35

Chapter 35: Looked Down Upon, Conquered by Food

Outside, guests crowded in, the air bustling and noisy, yet the very person at the center of it all sat behind closed doors, face dark, silently reflecting, staring wordlessly at his “brother.”

At the hour of the tiger, after sending Lu Lizhi home, he had thrown himself into further work without pause. Exhausted beyond thought, he collapsed into sleep.

But in that brief dream, it was as if he picked up where he had not continued in reality, yet what he secretly longed for deep down—

When he carried the tall yet delicate man onto the bed, instead of gently covering him with a quilt and tucking him in with care, he instead…

Slowly undid his belt, peeling layer after layer away.

As more and more of that ice-smooth, jade-like skin revealed itself under his gaze, as the man, oblivious, faintly flushed with delicate pink, his fingers broke the taboo—stroking, caressing, gliding with a dangerous heat, seeking to push him further beyond control.

He longed to see those cool brows knit in pained restraint, to watch those sharp lips part, breath spilling out in alluring gasps and tones; to see him weep, unable to restrain himself, clinging tight, whimpering pleas for mercy, sobs spilling like beads of shattered pearls…

What came after grew blurred, but even that short fragment left Jiang Baiye aching and swollen upon waking, his face black as ink, hastily muttering calming sutras.

Yet this time, though outside people bustled noisily, calling his name now and then, asking where he had gone, he still could not calm down.

On the contrary, the more voices filled the air, the stranger, more inexplicably stimulating it became. Even when he took firm action against little Jiang Jiang, it still refused to bow its head.

Jiang Baiye: “……”

Useless thing!

Looking at his disobedient brother, then at the “brother” beside him, he drew in a deep breath and flipped the paper over, as if this alone could silence his conscience.

“Forgive me, Lizhi, I’ll borrow you for a moment…”

“Next time, I must not desecrate you again…”

He had barely finished the thought when that cold, otherworldly figure surged wildly through his mind. Every movement, expression, the rarest of smiles—each was the balm for his throbbing pain, making him crave more, pushing him deeper.

It was over. Was he truly… bending!?

Jiang Baiye was faintly shocked, but he refused to admit it. Surely it was only that Lizhi was far too ascetic and beautiful. If it were a woman, after such interactions, he would react the same way…

Yes, that had to be it. He had simply spent too little time around women!

Thus he frantically hypnotized himself, even as he sank further into depraved fantasies of the very brother he wished to treat sincerely, the man fated to stride across court and exam halls, the destined great figure of the future—a man who would never bend, who showed no tenderness even to women, let alone men…

In this tug of denial and indulgence, the stimulation only grew ever more… overwhelming!

“Changshui, so many people have come, hurry out! Your father can’t hold them off!” He Shi called anxiously outside the closed door.

“What is this, why hasn’t he appeared yet? Far too rude!” The headmen who last claimed Jiang Baiye’s workshop would never succeed gathered together, deliberately muttering loud enough for all to hear.

At once, murmurs spread through the crowd.

Jiang Dazhu hurried over with hot tea. They took it with cold faces, and before he had stepped away, he heard them sneer: “Is this their bought servant? Doesn’t know his place at all.”

“Pathetic and spineless—just looking at him is infuriating!” In truth, they had come already displeased, determined to vent their bile on someone they deemed beneath them.

Jiang Dazhu clenched his fists, swallowing bitterly, forcing himself forward to greet another group, only to be treated like a menial once more.

Uncle Luo and the others fumed, ready to speak up, but he stopped them. This man, once always a loaf, now felt ashamed. He dared not admit he was master of this house.

Changshui had finally won respect. If it was lost because of him…

His chest grew heavy. He was too useless. This family had to rely on Changshui alone. Even He Shi could sell embroidered handkerchiefs to help. But he could not keep up.

Hu Yaowei, who had come with the town mayor of Baishi, witnessed it and sneered. “So this is Jiang Baiye’s father?”

“I thought he must be someone remarkable, to have raised such a son.” His tone dripped with disdain.

Also present was Steward Tian, who had failed in his last scheme. Now curious about Jiang Baiye, he wondered how he had so thoroughly turned Ding Yue. In barely half a day, why had ten taels not tempted him, but only filled him with fear?

“Watch closely for anyone of power. Jiang Baiye must have someone backing him,” Hu Yaowei whispered to the curious Steward Tian. “Otherwise, in so short a time, he could never have come this far. Clearly, he targets our Shanyi Hall!”

How else to explain that just as they entered the medicine trade, he made such a move? Hu Yaowei was increasingly certain—Jiang Baiye’s first visit to Shanyi Hall had been with ill intent.

“I asked around. He supposedly gathered herbs in the Daheng Mountains, slowly building up,” Steward Tian said, hesitant.

Hu Yaowei believed not a word. With a look at Jiang Dazhu bowing and scraping, he scoffed, shaking his head as if to say—could such a fool raise a capable son?

Steward Tian thought back to their first meeting. Back then, Baiye’s clothes were patched, the picture of a peasant. And now, in mere months, he had built a famed workshop—not just any, but one of exacting pharmaceutical craft.

He glanced at Doctor Sun, Huichun Hall’s owner, and others. Could it be…?

“Doctor Sun, Doctor Meng, Young Master He—please sit here.” Jiang Dazhu respectfully guided them to the main table. “My Changshui will come shortly. Please, have some tea first!”

“No need for formality.” A fair hand pressed lightly, paired with a dazzling smile. “You’ve worked long. Rest a while. Don’t bother with them.”

This man’s phoenix eyes glimmered with vibrant light. With one glance, many onlookers turned away, inwardly startled by his commanding presence.

“Why hasn’t Brother Baiye come? Is he still dressing up?” he laughed, though his curiosity had peaked, gaze flicking often to the door. Surely this man wasn’t shirking?

But Jiang Baiye was “busy” indeed. Only when the crowd grew restless with speculation did he finally emerge, face tinted faintly with spring’s warmth, his dark eyes shadowed with an intensity that made hearts race, too dangerous to meet directly.

“Tch, what a mess…” He clicked his tongue, frustration and regret surging, his mood tangled.

If not for the joy of such pleasures ahead, he would have cut off that disobedient thing!

After a quick tidy, he pushed the door open. Outside stretched a sea of people, easily two hundred or more.

As they realized the host had finally arrived, a hush fell!

Instantly, silence rippled outward like a tide, all eyes drawn to the figure stepping from the doorway.

Sword-like brows, starry eyes, bearing extraordinary grace.

Many who had speculated about him were stunned—this, a peasant?

He could pass for a young master of a noble house!

Even those familiar with him paused, momentarily struck anew by his entrance.

Today he wore a dark red robe of fine make, black hair tied back, revealing a face both handsome and rakish. More striking still was his aura—languid yet unrestrained, utterly at ease, without a trace of stiffness before such a crowd.

He seemed accustomed to such occasions, experienced, unflappable, commanding respect.

“Forgive me, everyone. I was delayed by personal matters. You must be starving. Let us begin at once!” Jiang Baiye clapped his hands. Firecrackers ignited, joy and festivity spreading in an instant.

Behind him, lines of helpers emerged, carrying tray after tray, dishes piled high.

Gasps spread, especially among the self-important headmen and elders, and even Baishi’s town mayor who had been pretending courtesy with Wang the headman.

Even Doctors Meng and He Lin were shocked. He had skipped all hollow pleasantries and simply called them to eat.

Doctor Sun and the others, knowing his nature, understood. He was a man of action, not hollow courtesies. But Mayor Xue laughed in disbelief. “So this is your village folk? How very unrefined!”

Wang, once his rival, ignored him. The man had invited himself, bringing strangers, clearly intent on spoiling the occasion.

“He must come to see me if he wants to enter Baishi,” Mayor Xue thought, waiting for Baiye to bow and be lectured.

Just then, a platter of chicken—glossy, tender, rich with sauce, colorful with peppers and potatoes—was set down. Its fragrance seized his attention. He swallowed unconsciously.

Wang smirked.

When everyone tasted it, those same elders, ready to complain, instantly fell silent.

Delicious! With such meat, who had time for words? Every bite spoken was a bite missed! This chicken, in such a novel preparation, widened their eyes.

And this was only the beginning.

As dish after dish arrived—pickled fish, seafood stew, braised pork, sauced beef, crabs, sweet-and-sour ribs, red-braised lion’s heads, soy-braised pig’s trotters with beans, radish beef stew, garlic scallops, plus cold plates of shredded vegetables, crisp lettuce, seaweed, sour radish, black fungus with lotus root, chilled eggplant—voices of praise and wonder rang out.

“So fragrant! What’s in this? Mm, delicious, try this one!”

“This fish is amazing! Don’t fight me for it. If I had this recipe, my nephew’s tavern would never have empty seats!”

“More lotus root? How did it disappear so fast…”

Most had no breath to spare, stuffing mouths full of delicacies they might never taste again in their lives, humming with joy, eyes narrowing in bliss, eating as though starved.

Meanwhile, three chefs hired from the prefectural city kept frying vegetable dishes, alongside fruits and pastries. Baiye even served sea urchin tofu soup, yam custard, fresh shrimp mushroom broth.

One after another, the dishes never ceased.

He Lin, eyes wide, turned to Doctor Meng. “This is that so-called rustic village banquet?”

Even official feasts paled. Could even imperial banquets surpass this?

Doctor Meng only said, “So good, so good, more please!”

He Lin: “…” Once more, his eyes fell on Baiye, orchestrating calmly. This man was nothing like the upright youth with ancestral secrets Meng had once described.

Baiye too noticed unfamiliar faces—headmen from other villages, uninvited. He had spoken to Wang about this. And Shanyi Hall? That steward burying his face in his bowl—surely here to spy.

But on such a joyous day, better not to sour the mood.

Just as he prepared to toast the guests, Uncle Luo came, whispering.

Baiye instantly searched the crowd with his eyes.

“Your father left as soon as you came out. I’ve looked everywhere. He must be hiding somewhere.” Uncle Luo sighed, sympathy heavy. He could well imagine Jiang Dazhu weeping in secret.

Author’s Note:

Later—

Discovering someone Lu lay still in bed like a corpse.

Jiang: ??? Then don’t blame me for being rude [goes hard]

Lu: (enduring to the limit) kicks him clean off the bed!

Moments later, sticky and clinging once more…