At this time, Qiao Xiaomai had finished reading the contents of the letter, her mouth twitching with suppressed laughter.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
Yang Yeâs letter was very short, only three sentences:
âTastes good, but why does it look so ugly?â
âMy mother said it looks like rat droppings, not testing a bite.â
âQuickly change its appearance!â
Xiaoyang, the guard, stood by, nearly bursting into laughter when he heard the content of the letter read aloud.
But he held back, deliberately putting on a stern face. âLady Qiao and Mr. Tong, please heed the princeâs request and adjust the appearance if you can.â
Qiao Xiaomai ââ¦â
How was she supposed to do that in this age without food colouring?
Besides, all the sweet potatoes here were white, they did not have the red variety.
The white sweet potatoes turned grayish-brown once they were steamed. It was impossible to get the golden-orange dried sweet potatoes popular in later times!
ââ¦What if I canât change the color of the dried sweet potatoes?â Qiao Xiaomai asked slowly.
Guard Xiaoyang hesitated, âThen the prince will just have to endure his sweet potatoes looking like rat droppings.â
Qiao Xiaomai ââ¦â
She too tried to suppress her laughter.
It was only an issue of appearance, but Yang Yeâs words made it sound particularly unappetizing.
However, thinking about how Yang Ye still requested for the ugly sweet potatoes to be sent to the Capital City left her speechless.
He himself had called it like rat droppings yet he seemed to enjoy it.
Yang Ye sure was a weird one.
âWeâve run out for now. Wait three more days,â Qiao Xiaomai told Xiaoyang, the guard.
âAlright, but if possible, try to change the colour,â he replied, giving her a reminder.
But Qiao Xiaomai knew this would only leave him disappointed.
There was simply no way.
On her way back to the village, Qiao Xiaomai thought of those three sentences from Yang Yeâs letter and couldnât help but chuckle.
Imagining Yang Ye munching enthusiastically on the rat dung-colored dried sweet potatoes, she laughed and clasped her chest.
Well, she suddenly did not feel like eating it anymore.
âWhat if we tried colouring it with the juice of some fruit?â Tong Sanlang suggested.
While Qiao Xiaomai was lost in thought, he seemed quite serious about solving this problem.
Upon hearing this, Qiao Xiaomai asked, âWhich fruit?â
âPerhaps persimmons?â
Qiao Xiaomai was silent for a moment, âWhen you eat a persimmon, your entire hand gets covered in the juice. Donât you think it resembles diarrhea?â
Tong Sanlang ââ¦â
Imagining grayish-brown sweet potato strips soaked in yellow-orange persimmon juice was likeâ¦
Stop there!
There was a momentary stiffness on Tong Sanlangâs handsome face. This image was too horrifying to contemplate.
âWe donât have time to change colours, just let Yang Ye eat his rat droppings-looking sweet potato strips!â Qiao Xiaomai said.
Dried sweet potatoes made from the white variety were still eaten by many people even in later times. None of them felt it resembled rat droppings and found them delicious instead.
Tong Sanlang was silent for a moment before responding, âOkay.â
Indeed, they were quite busy now.
While drying sweet potatoes, he was always engrossed in intense studying.
Getting the top rank in the small Huaiâan County meant nothing. The imperial examination was held in the Prefecture City, where all the scholars from the entire Prefecture gathered. He couldnât afford to be careless.
Thus, amidst their individual busy schedules, Qiao Xiaomai and Tong Sanlang put Yang Yeâs letter on the back-burner.
Three days later, Qiao Xiaomai took a hundred kilograms of sweet potato strips to Xiaoyang, the guard, and asked him to convey to Yang Ye that she could not change the color of the dried sweet potatoes, so he would have to try for himself.