Several days before the festival, Shen Shaoguang had already set up the advertisement board for the Double Seventh Cake.
In truth, there wasn't yet a standardized festive food for the Qixi Festival at this time. During the evening Qiqiao rituals, fruits were commonly used, sometimes accompanied by pastries. Some households would eat "Rahula rice." The so-called "Rahula" is said to be the son of Buddha Sakyamuni, though why it became associated with the seventh day of the seventh month remains unclear. Most families still worshipped the "Cowherd and Weaver Girl" during their ancestral rituals.
Shen Shaoguang felt that since the festival was about "praying for skill," beautifully crafted pastries would naturally be more fitting than ordinary fruits. Thus, she introduced the "Double Seventh Cake series."
The advertisement board was made of wooden planks, featuring a painted poster at its center. The focal point was a meticulously arranged platter of pastries: Pea Flour Cake, Ai Wowo (Glutinous Rice Cake), hawthorn cake, and ice-skin Flower Cake, in vibrant shades of red, pink, green, yellow, and white—a visually stunning array.
Beside it was the name "Double Seventh Cake," along with a simple and catchy slogan: "Beautiful in color, aroma, taste, and form—perfect for both personal enjoyment and gifting."
Samples were also prepared and displayed in boxes at prominent spots in the shop, available for immediate purchase or pre-order.
Shen Shaoguang was indeed better suited to be a chef than a painter. While the advertisement initially piqued curiosity, the sight of the samples truly won hearts.
Each petite pastry, no larger than an inch, came in various forms—some shaped like flowers, others imprinted with characters, and some resembling swimming fish or spirited turtles. Some were soft and glutinous, others icy-smooth and tender, while a few were crispy and fluffy. Arranged neatly in paper boxes, their vibrant colors made them almost too beautiful to eat.
"Who are you gifting these to? For officials... a set symbolizing fortune, prosperity, longevity, and happiness is essential. If it's for a civil official, add plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum motifs—scholars appreciate these symbols of noble character. Top it off with two Rahula-themed pastries to make a box of ten, presenting a dignified gift."
"For the ladies, a floral set would suit their tastes—all sweet and delicately colored. I’d recommend adding a few fish or turtle-shaped ones too, as ladies often have children around."
"Just celebrating with your wife? Pick based on your preferences, and don’t forget to include two Cowherd and Weaver Girl pastries." Shen Shaoguang cheerfully assisted customers in assembling their pastry boxes. This task was something A Yuan couldn’t help with, so she handled it herself.
The last customer, a young man planning a sweet Qixi celebration with his wife, blushed slightly at Shen Shaoguang’s words. After paying the deposit and offering a slight bow, he left.
Shen Shaoguang rolled her neck and stretched her facial muscles, grimacing. "Selling smiles" was truly exhausting work.
A Yuan tidied up the stack of pastry boxes delivered by the paper workshop. "Miss, these boxes are too expensive. They can’t be eaten or drunk."
"Can’t do without them," Shen Shaoguang replied, unfolding a box to place the Flower Cake inside. The boxes were sturdy but lacked refinement—good enough for now.
In this dynasty, food packaging was rather rudimentary. Compared to the jade-carved ivory tubes for cosmetics, intricately carved white jade boxes for incense, or sandalwood boxes for silk fabrics—even the liquor industry, a related trade, outshone them with their white porcelain bottles and celadon jars.
Most food vendors didn’t use packaging at all. For items hard to carry, a simple straw rope sufficed—"Here you go." Shen Shaoguang’s use of paper bags for pancakes was already considered refined. These thick, printed paper boxes might even be seen as "overpackaging." As for the jade plates and golden cups used by wealthy households—those were in a league of their own.The pancakes and Ai Wowo (Glutinous Rice Cake) they had made earlier were considered "mid-to-high-end," but with this festive packaging, the Flower Cakes had almost become luxury items. A box of ten cost 100 coins, which was beyond the means of ordinary people.
To boost sales, Shen Shaoguang bought a lot of bamboo skewers that could be inserted into the Flower Cakes, selling them individually as candies—perfect for satisfying the cravings of children.
Once the advertisement was put up, the Flower Cakes started selling. The peak sales came on the day before the festival and the morning of the festival itself. One customer ordered thirty "Blooming Wealth" gift boxes, and just handling this order alone took Shen Shaoguang and A Yuan most of the morning. Shen Shaoguang kneaded the dough, filled the cakes, and pressed them into molds, while A Yuan helped pack them into boxes and attached the pre-written labels Shen Shaoguang had prepared. Working like an assembly line, they managed to stay busy but not chaotic.
By the afternoon, the bulk orders of dozens of boxes for gifting dwindled, replaced by customers buying one or two boxes, or even just a few pieces. Some children even came with a handful of coins to buy a single cake as a snack.
Children often suffer from decision paralysis, lingering in front of the stall, torn between the majestic tiger-shaped cake and the beautiful flower-shaped one, all while asking, "Is it sweet?" Shen Shaoguang, busy with her hands, chatted and joked with them. Occasionally, if she had leftover dough, she would casually shape an extra cake and give it to the kids as a "buy one, get one free."
A Yuan, however, wasn’t fond of dealing with children. Shen Shaoguang attributed this to "older kids looking down on the little ones."
By evening, as the sun dipped low and the faint crescent moon appeared on the horizon, the last of the customers finally left. Shen Shaoguang sighed in relief and asked A Yuan what kind of cakes she wanted for dinner—they would make do with fruits and Flower Cakes.
A Yuan loved the ice-skinned ones and wanted a set of flower and animal shapes, plus a pair of the Cowherd and Weaver Girl.
Shen Shaoguang cheerfully agreed, chatting idly with A Yuan as she worked.
At the government office, someone had gifted Lin Yan two boxes of Flower Cakes. Thinking his grandmother might enjoy such delicate treats, Lin Yan placed them in his carriage to bring home. Unexpectedly, when the maid opened the boxes to arrange the cakes on a plate, she found that the two largest pieces—the Cowherd and Weaver Girl—had been crushed during the journey.
"Such a pity—they were so pretty," the maid murmured as she carefully lifted the Weaver Girl’s half-broken figure.
Just as she was about to arrange the remaining cakes, she heard her master say, "Have someone—never mind, I’ll go buy two more to replace them myself."
The maid looked at him in surprise. When had A Lang ever done such a thing? Then it dawned on her—these intricately decorated cakes were bought? How would A Lang even know where to get them? And the city gates would be closing soon.
Glancing at the small "Shen" seal in the corner of the packaging, Lin Yan said calmly, "Festive items shouldn’t be incomplete." With that, he tucked his coin purse into his sleeve and walked out.
"That Cowherd peeping at the Weaver Girl while she bathed was already a scoundrel who deserved a beating. Hiding her clothes to coerce her into marriage and then forbidding her from returning home? That’s downright wicked—banishment would be too light a punishment."
A Yuan was stunned by Shen Shaoguang’s words. It sounded right, but wasn’t this story usually told differently? "But the Weaver Girl was willing, wasn’t she?"
Shen Shaoguang sighed and patiently explained, "That’s what’s called ‘Stockholm Syndrome.’ Stockholm is a foreign place where a woman was kidnapped by a criminal... and later even wanted to marry him.""The Weaver Girl was the same. Forced by the Cowherd with no hope of returning to the heavens, she gradually entrusted her life to him. A bite of food, a sip of water, a word of concern—she saw them all as his mercy. But if not for the Cowherd, the Weaver Girl would have lived freely in the heavens. Why would she need his food or water?"
A Yuan was completely baffled by Shen Shaoguang's words. After a moment of thought, she asked, "If you were the Weaver Girl, what would you do?"
"Beat him up! Beat him until he cries for his mother!" Shen Shaoguang said fiercely.
Lin Yan, who had been about to push open the door, paused. He recalled the melancholic yet vast words on the pastry box—"The Milky Way gleams, stars abound, between heaven and earth"—and the tenderly romantic phrase—"Under the phoenix tree, magpie shadows, a sweet rendezvous like a dream." The corners of his lips curled into a helpless smile before he turned and walked away.
From inside the room came a faint voice: "What if you can't beat him?"
A soft, eerie tone replied: "If someone is determined, they'll always find a way..."
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