As the Double Seventh Festival approached, Shen Shaoguang, who was accustomed to the holiday economy in her previous life, naturally began preparations in advance.
The wooden molds for the Double Seventh Cake, commissioned from a carver, had arrived. Shen Shaoguang and A Yuan carefully sanded down the rough edges, oiled them, washed them, dried them, and repeated the process several times. The pale poplar molds had gained some luster, but it would take a while before they developed the beautiful, glossy reddish-brown hue.
A Yuan, still childlike in nature, couldn’t put down one particular set of molds. "Little fish, cranes, turtles, tigers—once these are made, I won’t even want to eat them," she said.
Shen Shaoguang told her the truth: "They’re just for show. The fillings are the same red bean paste, mung bean paste, and jujube paste you usually eat."
Since following Shen Shaoguang, A Yuan had eaten countless rice cakes, from devouring them eagerly at first to now treating them as ordinary fare.
"If they look good, they’ll taste good too," A Yuan laughed.
Shen Shaoguang also smiled. Was this little girl reaching enlightenment? Indeed, when it came to food, "appearance" ranked even before "aroma" and "flavor."
For this very reason, Shen Shaoguang had gone all the way to the West Market to commission these sets of molds: one with seal script characters for blessings, prosperity, longevity, and happiness; one with flowers and plants like plum blossoms, orchids, bamboo, chrysanthemums, peonies, and roses; one with animals like cranes, turtles, fish, and tigers; and another with figures such as Rahula, the Weaver Girl, the Cowherd, and the Moon Palace fairy.
The designs for the carvings were all drawn by Shen Shaoguang herself.
Though life in the palace’s inner quarters was laborious and materially lacking, the cultural education was excellent. There were Imperial Academy Instructors specifically assigned to teach the palace women, covering classics, history, philosophy, literature, calligraphy, painting, law, poetry, arithmetic, and even chess.
Initially, the instructors were scholars, many of them erudite—after all, those who could make it into the emperor’s presence had to have some real talent. How many impostors like the legendary "Mr. Nanguo" could there be?
The year the previous emperor passed away, however, these instructors were replaced by eunuchs and palace maids. Shen Shaoguang, with her cynical mind, suspected some scandalous teacher-student romance might have occurred, but no such rumors ever surfaced.
Among the new instructors was a palace maid in her forties, her hair already streaked with gray. She had a quiet, composed demeanor and spoke little, but her cursive script was exquisite, and her seal and regular scripts were also outstanding. Shen Shaoguang diligently practiced calligraphy under her for several years. This teacher was also a master of the guqin, but unfortunately, Shen Shaoguang had no musical talent—she could bluff her way through listening but couldn’t play. Shen Shaoguang wondered about this teacher’s background, speculating she might have been a family member of a disgraced official, consigned to the inner quarters.
With her original body’s foundation and memories from her past life, Shen Shaoguang had once been highly regarded by several instructors. But later, this budding talent became increasingly mundane, diving headfirst into the imperial kitchens for the sake of food...
Thinking of the instructors’ looks of disappointment, as if watching a prodigy fade, Shen Shaoguang smiled. Competing in talent and beauty, playing palace intrigues for advancement? That was a battlefield where few returned unscathed. In truth, it all came down to being too cowardly.
Before Shen Shaoguang could celebrate the Double Seventh Festival, a matchmaker arrived—none other than Lu Sanniang, the seller of fried dough twists.Madam Lu was quite an interesting character. She harbored a bit of jealousy toward Shen Shaoguang's financial success, yet since Shen was also her major customer, she dared not openly offend her. Still, she couldn't resist needling her from time to time. However, Shen Shaoguang was no mute gourd but a seasoned three-stringed lute—her sharp tongue honed in the palace could deliver both melody and rhythm with precision. Each time Lu Sanniang provoked her, she ended up defeated, only to return with fresh barbs later, which Shen would effortlessly deflect. This cycle repeated endlessly.
For a while, Shen Shaoguang rather enjoyed these verbal sparring matches with Lu Sanniang. Being envied just a little was actually quite delightful—it was an acknowledgment of her success—and, of course, there was that mischievous pleasure in seeing someone who disliked her but couldn’t do a thing about it.
This time, however, Lu Sanniang came bearing "kindness in return for grudges."
"This match is truly excellent! Young Master Yang deals in silk and satin, owns a shop in the West Market, and keeps servants at home. He’s both honest and capable, eager to find a competent wife to manage his household. And aren’t you just such a capable young lady? A match made in heaven!" Lu Sanniang nudged Shen Shaoguang playfully, expecting to see her blush.
Shen nodded. "This match does sound quite good."
Though she didn’t react with the expected shyness, Lu Sanniang was still pleased to hear her agreement—it was rare to see Shen so compliant.
"However, how could such a fine match land on an orphan like me, with neither father nor mother? It’s rather unsettling."
Leaning in, Lu Sanniang brought her mouth close to Shen’s ear, and Shen allowed it.
"I heard he came to our neighborhood looking for someone, tasted your jade tip noodles, and hasn’t stopped thinking about you since. This gentleman knows my husband, so he asked me to sound you out."
"To decide to marry the cook just for a few jade tip noodles—what if he later meets someone selling steamed buns, broad noodles, or roasted lamb…" Shen Shaoguang chuckled at the thought of him collecting a harem of culinary wives and concubines.
Knowing Shen wasn’t easily fooled, Lu Sanniang finally told the truth. "He is a bit older than you—forty-five—but an older husband knows how to cherish his wife."
"His previous wife passed away half a year ago. He’s met a few refined ladies since, but none suited him—seems he was waiting for you. Once you enter his household as the lady of the house, you won’t have to toil on the streets anymore."
As she spoke, Lu Sanniang genuinely began to believe this was a good match. Though the Yang residence was a bit remote, they did own a shop in the West Market and employed several servants. Young Master Yang was indeed capable, and with such an age gap and Shen’s striking beauty, he’d surely dote on her—wouldn’t she be falling into a pot of honey? Unlike herself, frying dough twists day in and day out, exposed to wind, sun, and grease.
Seeing Shen silent, Lu Sanniang resorted to the "leftover woman" argument: "You’re getting older, and with no parents or elders to guide you, you must plan for yourself. Don’t let shyness make you miss this chance. Later, when you’re even older, you’ll only be fit as a replacement wife for men in their sixties or seventies."
Shen Shaoguang, just nineteen, took a sip of her fruit drink and nodded. Lu Sanniang truly had a way with words—she made one feel as if an entire lifetime could be summed up in a few sentences. Suddenly, Shen recalled Lord Lin’s remark about her being in the "bloom of youth" when she left the palace. So, in the eyes of you Tang people, is nineteen considered old or not?The older single woman Shen Shaoguang was verbally attacked, but she calmly refilled Madam Lu's cup with some sour plum soup and smiled, "After all, I'm getting older, and my temper is too stubborn and peculiar. Isn't your daughter around fifteen or sixteen, Madam Lu? Why not introduce her to this Young Master Yang? You know his background well—it would only be better."
"How could that be—" Madam Lu instinctively retorted, feeling offended that her daughter was being linked to a widowed merchant in his forties. My A-Yu is young and beautiful—she should marry a scholarly young man from a farming and reading family. If her husband passes the imperial exams, A-Yu would become an official's wife!
But then Madam Lu realized this was just Shen Shaoguang teasing her, which made her even angrier. It felt like her kindness had been repaid with ingratitude.
Thinking of "scholarly young men who become officials," Madam Lu's stiff face twisted into a mocking smile. "Young lady, are you perhaps eyeing those respectable gentlemen who come daily to buy your pancakes? I advise you to give up on that idea. Every one of them marries a well-matched young lady from a good family. Though you're beautiful, you'd only end up as a concubine. And as a concubine, you'd have to serve the principal wife every day..."
In just a short while, Madam Lu had imagined several different life paths for her. Shen Shaoguang felt it necessary to cut her off. "Don't you think, Madam Lu, that with my ability to earn money, I could become a wealthy woman on my own? Buy a house, acquire land, and live freely?"
"..." Madam Lu didn’t believe Shen Shaoguang truly thought this way—she assumed it was just an excuse. But thinking of her new shop and jade tip noodles, she found herself momentarily at a loss for words.
"I’ve had my eye on a villa in Zhongnan Mountain for a long time," Shen Shaoguang said with a straight face.
Madam Lu trembled with frustration and left defeated, as usual.
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