MTCCP Chapter 14

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Returning to the palace took some getting used to.

Before Yue Yiwan left home, his big brother and father had tousled his hair so much that his freshly styled hair ended up a mess.

Carrying his bag of snacks, he arrived at the palace and got off the carriage, feeling quite relaxed.

Wooden clogs really weren’t the most convenient footwear.

Hua Muzhi was in the Baopu Hall, working on official documents. Hearing the sound of a carriage downstairs, he glanced out the window.

A small figure in the distance was waving at him enthusiastically, then broke into a joyful run toward the hall.

He couldn’t help but smile and went downstairs to greet him.

“You could’ve stayed a few more days. There was no rush to come back.”

Yue Yiwan waved his hand dismissively and suddenly held out the bag of snacks to him. “Have you ever tried these?”

Hua Muzhi paused for a moment and identified a few items. “I had chips when I was a kid. As for the others... I really haven’t.”

“Try this—ramen snacks!”

Yue Yiwan opened the package with the little raccoon on the package. He broke off a large piece of the crispy noodle block, sprinkled it with the spicy crab-flavored seasoning, and shook it vigorously.

The crushed noodles rattled around inside the bag, and the slightly spicy aroma wafted out, tickling their noses.

The royal snacks were mostly handmade. Even potato chips were sliced and baked fresh by the palace chefs before being served.

Hua Muzhi curiously watched Yue Yiwan shake the bag, then opened it and hesitantly grabbed a handful to try.

“—This is really good!” He looked at Yue Yiwan. “What is this?”

“It’s junk food,” Yue Yiwan cleared his throat. “Let’s secretly finish this and hide the packaging. I’m afraid Teacher Feng will scold me for leading you astray.”

The two of them, like mischievous students after school, hid in the study, finishing off the bag of spicy broad beans and ramen snacks. They even chatted while eating.

Though these were cheap snacks, they were incredibly satisfying and surprisingly addictive.

As they ate, Hua Muzhi pulled out a tablet and showed Yue Yiwan the latest story he had written.

His number one fan, Yue Yiwan, brightened up immediately and eagerly leaned in to read.

This time, the story’s protagonist was a painted spirit.

A humble scholar spent his leisure time painting orchids and bamboo with delicate brushstrokes. He hung his artwork in his study, and whenever he grew tired from burning the midnight oil, he would gaze at his paintings for inspiration.

Over the years, one of the painted orchids, infused with the study’s accumulated spiritual energy, came to life and stepped out of the painting as a spirit to serve as the scholar’s attendant.

The painted spirit, having listened to the scholar recite books for many years, developed a mind of its own and became a charming and witty companion. It helped him compose essays and poetry, even warming his cold ankles during the harsh winters to keep him from shivering.

As the seasons passed, the two became inseparable, sharing deep affection.

The scholar carried his paintings and belongings to the capital to take the imperial exam. To his delight, he placed high on the merit list and became a celebrated scholar.

With his newfound fame, merchants sought his favor, and influential families in the capital scrambled to offer their daughters’ hands in marriage.

At night, the painted spirit still lit candles and warmed wine for him, seemingly indifferent to the trivialities of the outside world.

“And then?” Yue Yiwan reached this part and suddenly realized the story had been cut off.

It had been a while since he had followed a novel, and he couldn’t help but urge Hua Muzhi to finish the story quickly.

“What happened next?”

Hua Muzhi, sipping his tea, hesitated for a moment before revealing the ending.

“The scholar eventually wanted to marry the daughter of a senior official. Fearing the spirit he had at home might become enraged and retaliate, he secretly paid a Taoist priest to storm into the study with a peachwood sword and kill the painted spirit.”

Yue Yiwan nearly choked on his breath and grew indignant. “How could he do that?”

Perhaps due to his busy schedule, Hua Muzhi hadn’t planned to finish the story in writing and casually shared the conclusion aloud.

“When the priest entered the study, he found only a blank scroll on the wall. The orchid and the spirit had vanished without a trace,” he paused, then continued. “The scholar paid it no mind and prepared to live happily ever after with the official’s daughter. However, he soon discovered he could no longer write anything of worth. His talent was gone.”

Yue Yiwan was dissatisfied, frowning. “Serves that jerk right!”

“Anyone can paint, after all,” Hua Muzhi said thoughtfully. “The scholar originally infused his spirit into the painting, but later squandered it away himself. Naturally, he was left as nothing more than an ordinary man.”

The two laughed and chatted for a while before heading to Chaoming Hall for dinner.

With pressing official duties, the crown prince returned to work after the meal, leaving Yue Yiwan and the palace dog alone in the living room watching TV.

As Yue Yiwan stroked the dog, brushing through its fur, he suddenly noticed how much of it was shedding.

He paused, looking at the handful of white fur in his hand, and a thought struck him.

The attending steward, mistaking his reaction for displeasure, quickly explained, “Mr. Yue, it’s shedding season for Kurzhund dogs. They have a double coat, so the shedding is more pronounced.”

“No—” Yue Yiwan stood up and looked at the well-behaved Toto. “From now on, I’ll handle brushing him. You don’t need to worry about it.”

This dog was like a sheep! Why not make the most of it?

That very night, Yue Yiwan grabbed a small comb and hummed a tune as he brushed Toto from head to tail while watching TV.

The soft, fluffy fur collected neatly in a small basket for future use.

Toto, holding a fish-shaped plush toy, was extraordinarily cooperative, staying still no matter how much Yue Yiwan fussed with him.

Over the next ten days, Yue Yiwan had amassed an entire basket of dog fur.

The palace attendants were completely baffled by his actions.

Why was he suddenly at odds with the dog?

Yet, the dog looked more spirited than ever. Its long, flowing coat was tidy and stunningly beautiful.

Finally, Yue Yiwan summoned the attendants and taught them how to spin thread by hand.

The outer layer of long fur was spun into coarse thread, while the softer undercoat was made into fine thread.

The air in Xiqing Pavilion carried the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms as four or five people diligently spun thread, turning the place into a small workshop.

The dog’s ample coat yielded several balls of yarn. After spinning, the threads were twisted into double-stranded skeins, soaked in fabric softener and detergent, then hung to dry.

The yarn, draped across racks in Xiqing Pavilion, swayed gently in the autumn breeze like little flags.

When Hua Muzhi arrived, he immediately spotted the “dog fur flags” hanging in the breeze. Before he could say anything, Toto happily barked and trotted over to the yarn, wagging his tail and sniffing curiously.

“What are you planning to do with this yarn?” Hua Muzhi asked, glancing at Yue Yiwan, who had a measuring tape draped around his neck. “You’ve spun quite a lot.”

“A rug!” Yue Yiwan declared, raising a long, slender crochet hook with a delighted expression. “It’s for Empress Dowager!”

When winter comes, the Empress Dowager would have a warm and soft rug to keep her feet cozy while watching TV.

Hua Muzhi couldn’t help teasing him. “Not making one for me?”

“That depends on Toto,” Yue Yiwan cast a glance at the dog, who was visibly slimmer from the relentless brushing. He gave Toto a sympathetic look. “If I keep going, I’m afraid he’ll catch a cold.”

Fortunately, their workload had lightened recently, and the two of them had more time to spend together in the evenings, chatting and watching TV in the living room.

Hua Muzhi didn’t know how to crochet, but he helped manage the yarn balls and smooth out the edges. Slowly, he grew accustomed to spending evenings with Yue Yiwan in front of the TV.

In addition to TV dramas and streaming series, Yue Yiwan was a big fan of a global fashion design competition show called Brilliant New Threads. He could sit there for hours, knitting while watching the show.

Not only was he engrossed in the program, but he also acted like a live commentary track, sharing his critiques with Hua Muzhi. He’d explain how to judge the designs, pointing out flaws before the judges even spoke—whether it was a poor choice of fabric, an ill-placed bow, or sequins that overwhelmed the overall design.

The show wasn’t something Hua Muzhi would usually find interesting, but before he realized it, he was hooked. Every evening at 8 PM, the two of them would settle in to crochet the rug and watch the show, settling into an easy rhythm of domestic life together.

Yue Yiwan didn’t stop at spinning yarn; he also dyed it. Knowing that the elderly Empress Dowager preferred subdued tones, he used plant-based dyes to transform some of the dog fur into a soft ash gray. He even crocheted Nordic-style geometric patterns along the edges of the rug.

Hua Muzhi had watched the rug take shape from start to finish, and he was surprisingly reluctant to see it go.

His earlier jealousy about the rug had been a joke, but the finished product was truly something else—thick, soft, and warm, with an elegant and understated design that couldn’t be found in stores.

Outwardly, he was supportive and agreeable, but deep down, he couldn’t help but wonder:

…Would you really not consider making one for me?

Nearby, Toto curled up in his spot, letting out a sudden sneeze in his sleep.

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