My brother entrusted his child to me, and I livestreamed raising the baby, making the Empress cry wi

Yao Jingyuan sat down next to Shu Rou with a bowl of milk and millet porridge, feeding her spoonful by spoonful with a small silver spoon.

Before serving the spoon, I would blow on it to make sure it was hot enough to avoid burning her.

Shu Rou has fully recovered, but her eyes are still a little red and swollen, and her nose is also red.

She ate her porridge spoonful by spoonful, occasionally glancing up at the sky to see if anything new had appeared.

Yao Jingyuan also looked up.

On the sky, Xiao Douzi was still nestled in Lin Ye's arms. The two of them sat together on the cloud-like couch, covered with a fluffy blanket, their heads close together, whispering to each other, though it was unclear what they were saying.

His gaze lingered on the couch for a moment.

Then he looked down at the milk porridge in his hand.

The bowl is made of fine Ding kiln white porcelain, with a body as thin as paper. When held up to the light, you can see the shadow of your finger. It has a warm, ivory-white luster in the sunlight.

The porridge was millet porridge cooked with cow's milk in the imperial kitchen. The millet was sticky, and the orange-yellow oil was shiny. Each spoonful was worth a silver ingot.

In the entire Great Flame Kingdom, the number of people who can afford to drink this bowl of porridge can be counted on one hand.

His lips slowly curled up, his eyes darkening.

He thought to himself with smug satisfaction.

If we haven't eaten breakfast by now, in that godforsaken place, we probably won't even be able to get a hot bowl of porridge.

Starving to death would be best!

So what if that little bastard is dressed well and sleeps soundly?

These--

He raised the bowl, moving very slowly, as if showing it to someone.

She'll never get to eat these in her lifetime!

This milk porridge, these pastries made from refined flour, this braised wild boar meat—she probably couldn't even dream of these flavors.

Which of these things could a little bastard child in the cold palace possibly eat?

Which of these is she worthy of eating?

Yao Jingyuan lowered his head and took a sip of porridge, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were savoring some delicacy.

The aroma of milk melts on the tongue, rich and mellow, like a flower blooming in the mouth, its petals unfolding one by one, each petal wrapped in the sweetness of milk.

He squinted his eyes with enjoyment, hiding his smile behind the rim of the bowl, revealing only his curved eyes, which were full of smugness and mockery.

No matter how much that little bastard jumps around, he's just a frog at the bottom of a well, never able to see how wide the sky is, how vast the earth is, or what the delicacies of the human world are like.

forever!

Lin Ye also saw the scene of everyone eating in the palace.

Watching them drink millet porridge, eat steamed buns, and eat greasy fatty meat, it was as if they were eating some kind of delicacy.

There was also Yao Jingyuan holding up a bowl of porridge, looking defiant.

His lips twitched, and he almost burst out laughing.

Oh my God!

That's it!?

It's breakfast time, so let me show you what real deliciousness is.

Just as everyone was enjoying their meal, a voice suddenly came from the sky.

The sound wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.

"Little one, are you hungry?"

It's Lin Ye.

He sat on that cloud-like couch, holding the little girl in his arms, gently brushing away the stray hairs from her forehead with one hand.

His eyes were curved, filled with a gentle smile.

"Shall we eat?"

Upon hearing this, everyone in the Great Flame Kingdom involuntarily perked up their ears.

What does he eat?

What do people who live in places like heaven eat?

Through the canopy, Lin Ye turned and called out towards the kitchen, "Aunt Zhou—is breakfast ready?"

A gentle female voice came from inside: "Everything is ready, just waiting for Miss to wake up."

Lin Ye looked down at Xiao Douzi, his eyes crinkling with laughter, his voice full of joy: "What does Xiao Douzi want to eat?"

Little Douzi peeked half her face out from his arms, her voice muffled: "Anything is fine... I love anything my godfather gives me!"

"That won't do." Lin Ye pulled her out of his arms, let her sit on his lap, and stroked her fluffy head, teasing her. "We need to talk about something specific today. Come on, order whatever you want to eat."

Little Douzi tilted her head and thought for a long time, her little brows furrowing, but she really couldn't remember eating anything delicious. In the end, she could only manage to squeeze out, "Delicious."

Lin Ye was amused, reached out and pinched her little nose, then looked up at Zhou Ran and said, "Aunt Zhou, Xiao Douzi's stomach isn't feeling too well yet, so let's prepare something easy to digest first, and then order some morning tea."

"Then pan-fry a steak for me, well-done, so that Xiaodouzi can have a taste."

"Okay." Zhou Ran's voice was tinged with laughter. "Today I'm cooking millet porridge, which is for Miss. It's been simmering on the stove. I'll go get it."

"I've already ordered dim sum; it should be here in about ten minutes. Shall we cook the steak now?"

"Okay, let's fry it."

Off-screen, the sizzling sound of oil hitting a hot pan was heard, like a key that unlocked everyone's taste buds.

Outside the Chang Le Palace in the Great Flame Kingdom.

Thousands of people craned their necks, held their breath, and waited.

Those holding bowls of porridge forgot to drink, those with vegetables forgot to put them in their mouths, and those chewing food forgot to swallow.

The wind swept past the palace, ruffling someone's clothes and knocking over someone's official tablet with a crisp "thud," but no one turned around to look.

No one picked it up.

No one even blinked.

They stood frozen in place, like clay sculptures under a spell, completely still.

Everyone is waiting.

Let's wait and see what that man living in the clouds will bring out to eat.

Not long after—

The first plate appeared in the sky.

There were two bowls of porridge, one large and one small.

The bowl is white.

It is round and smooth, and the glaze on it reflects a lustrous sheen under the light.

The porridge, served in a bowl, is golden in color.

It's not the color of any porridge as they perceive it.

The best porridge in the Great Flame Kingdom is orange-yellow millet porridge, which only aristocratic families can afford to eat at every meal.

Occasionally, adding red dates or beans will change the color slightly, but the color is always dull and grayish.

Ordinary people basically cook rice with various beans, and it takes them ten days to half a month to save up enough money to splurge on millet once in a while.

But these two bowls of porridge—

It is a pure, bright, and intense golden yellow.

It's as if sunlight was pulled down from the sky, crushed, boiled down, and concentrated into a bowl of flowing gold.

The porridge was thick and creamy, with extremely small and delicate rice grains that had fully opened up. Each millet grain stretched and rolled in the soup, like a pool of spring water ruffled by the wind under the setting sun, shimmering with a golden luster.

A thick layer of rice oil floats on the surface of the porridge—that's something that only solidifies when the porridge is cooked to perfection; it's the soul of the porridge, the essence of the grain.

It was shiny and bright, like a small bronze mirror, from which one could vaguely see their reflection.

Steam rose from the rim of the bowl, drifting away in wisps, the white mist carrying that unfamiliar, never-before-smelled aroma, rising slowly.

The people of the Great Flame Kingdom had a fleeting illusion, as if they could smell the fragrance even through the sky. It was a rich, intense fragrance that made them want to plunge into it and drown in the porridge.