Ming Lingyi hadn't actually said what kind of noodles she was making, but when Li Yan heard the word "noodles," the phrase "longevity noodles" subconsciously popped into his head.
He knew his expectations were a bit unrealistic. After all, he had never told Ming Lingyi that today was his birthday.
But he couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope.
In the Eastern Palace, the ten-day Cold Food Festival was strictly observed. Even though the palace had its own small kitchen, he still had to follow the rules.
Back at the Imperial College, Li Yan had heard many of his classmates say their families would cook them a bowl of longevity noodles on their birthday.
The flavors varied from one family to another.
But the meaning was always the same—it was a good omen and a blessing from one's family.
