Transmigration: The Little Chef Calls The Shots

Empress had lost her son, her cornerstone, and was misunderstood and blamed by her daughter. Since then, her health had fallen drastically. Considering their affection of many years, the Emperor, who had always known the Empress to be kind-hearted, did not propose her deposition, even though she had indirectly caused the death of the Eldest Prince.

Thus, Princess Cuiwei had harbored resentment towards the Empress for many years. As the years passed, she never sought a Prince Consort again.

The Emperor, aware of his daughter’s temperament and despite being anxious, found himself helpless and thus allowed the situation to drag on.

Recalling the past, Tian Hui sighed deeply, "So many years have passed, I heard from my aunt that Princess Cuiwei has never entered the Empress’s chambers again. Even when they met, she never called her ’Mother’. Oh, what karma has been wrought!"

Lin Yuan couldn’t help but sigh, Perhaps Princess Cuiwei truly misunderstood the Empress, or perhaps the Empress, for her daughter’s sake, really had plotted to commit a grave action. However, regardless of the process, the outcome was unpredictable. Who would have thought that the Eldest Prince would also follow in death? After so many years, Princess Cuiwei still refused to find someone she loved. Was it because she couldn’t let go of the dead guard, or couldn’t she let go of her elder brother?

While Lin Yuan and Tian Hui conversed, the Emperor and the Empress had already spoken quite a bit in praise of the Xia Family Army’s first major victory, and the officials below were singing various praises.

Lin Yuan, finding it tedious, let her eyelids droop as she stared blankly at the food in front of her. A palace banquet was different from dining at home, where each person had a small table; before the banquet began, the table held pastries and fruits, which, when it was time to begin, the palace maids would remove and then serve the meals.

Each dish was beautifully presented on exquisite plates, each covered with a lid. A special palace maid would bring it over, and another maid would lift the lid and place the dish on the small table.

Despite the small size of the tables, each was filled with eight bowls and dishes, each beautifully and uniquely shaped, sharing one common trait: the vibrant colors of all the dishes. Red, yellow, green, white—Lin Yuan found it hard to imagine what ingredients the Imperial Chefs used that made the meals so visually appealing.

Still, as appealing as it was, she wondered about the taste.