The West Market had a Slave Market, and Shen Shaoguang took A Yuan to browse around.
In this dynasty, keeping slaves was common, while hiring laborers was rare. If labor was needed, people would directly purchase male or female servants.
Shen Shaoguang analyzed the reasons: first, this kind of relationship was secure and reliable—servants were the master's private property and dared not easily disobey their master's orders. There was even a rule that "servants must conceal crimes for their masters." Unless it was a major crime like rebellion, servants were forbidden from reporting their masters, or they would face punishment. Second, slaves were cheap—a skilled adult male servant only cost a few taels of silver.
Since her transmigration, Shen Shaoguang had long abandoned any moral qualms. When it came to servants, she chose to follow local customs.
The Slave Market was close to the horse market. As she browsed the various scrawny or glossy-coated mules and horses, she soon arrived at the Slave Market.
The market was sizable. Some sold legendary Kunlun slaves or Silla maids, others specialized in beautiful singers and dancers. There were small-scale sellers offering just one or two, or three or four slaves, as well as large slave traders who had dozens of slaves penned together.
After inquiring about a few scattered sellers, none seemed suitable. It made sense—if a cook was truly skilled, their master wouldn’t easily sell them.
Shen Shaoguang approached a slave trader in his forties. Not far from him, twenty or thirty slaves were penned up, ready for sale.
Two buyers were inspecting the "merchandise" like livestock, turning faces to check their quality. Soon, three or four slightly attractive maids were picked out, and someone took them to the market office to complete the sale contracts.
Seeing Shen Shaoguang approach, the slave trader politely asked, "What does the young lady require?"
"I need a male servant, preferably one with some culinary skills."
The slave trader kept records of each servant's background, age, former master, and skills. Many slave traders worked in teams, with different people handling buyers and sellers, so these records were essential.
Though Shen Shaoguang only wanted to buy one, the slave trader didn’t slack off. Smiling, he said, "Please wait a moment, young lady. Let me check my ledger."
"What a coincidence—this Yu San used to be a cook," the slave trader said, pointing to a male servant standing at the very edge.
Shen Shaoguang looked at Yu San. He was around twenty-six or twenty-seven, tall, with a well-proportioned and even handsome face. However, his brows were furrowed, his gaze cold, exuding an air of "I don’t care anymore, do whatever you want."
Hmm, quite the personality!
Shen Shaoguang stepped closer. Whether out of courtesy to a beautiful woman or professional ethics, the slave trader accompanied her into the slave pen.
"Do you know how to cook?" Shen Shaoguang asked.
Yu San lifted his eyelids slightly to glance at her. "Yes."
"What dishes are you best at?"
Yu San replied flatly, "Mallow soup and bean-leaf stew."
The slave trader’s face darkened. "Answer the young lady properly!" Mallow was a common vegetable, and bean-leaf stew was practically coarse fare—what kind of cook claimed to specialize in such dishes?
Perhaps out of self-preservation, Yu San eventually answered, "When my former master still had money, I also made dishes like roasted goose, grilled lamb, and fish sashimi."
Shen Shaoguang nodded. "Why were you sold?"
"My master was poor. He sold me to afford a full-fish banquet at Jade Willow Pavilion."
Shen Shaoguang: "..." Well, now she understood why this guy looked so world-weary—and why his former master was poor. Selling a cook just for one meal? What a terrible bargain!The slave trader, however, was convinced that this cook's skills must be lacking or that he was simply talking nonsense. He inwardly cursed his unreliable companion who had previously purchased the slave and smiled apologetically at Shen Shaoguang. "If the young lady isn't in a hurry, another batch will arrive the day after tomorrow. Would you like to come back then to take a look?"
Shen Shaoguang smiled at the slave trader. "No need, I'll take this one. How much?"
The male servant was priced at three taels of silver. Given his questionable culinary skills and his gloomy demeanor, the slave trader didn’t want to bother keeping him around for further training and automatically lowered the price, asking for only 2,700 coins.
Shen Shaoguang found the price fair and thanked the slave trader before paying and completing the official slave purchase contract.
She then led the proud and upright A Yuan and the dejected, slumped-shouldered Yu San back home.
Since the West Market had everything, they took the opportunity to buy bedding and daily necessities for Yu San along the way.
Seeing so much money spent on Yu San while he remained indifferent, wearing an expression that seemed to say, "Do whatever, just bury me when I die," A Yuan grew quite irritated and shot him several disdainful glances.
Shen Shaoguang couldn’t help but laugh, surprised to discover A Yuan had a tendency to bully newcomers...
Since the rented house wasn’t ready for them to move into yet and the nunnery didn’t accommodate male guests, Shen Shaoguang arranged for Yu San to stay at the shop for the time being.
By the time they returned to the shop, the sun was still high, and it wasn’t yet time to prepare dinner. Shen Shaoguang first took the sugar she had bought at the West Market to thank Li Niangzi next door for watching the shop and the stove. Upon returning, she glanced at Yu San. "Go wash your hands and face in the back."
Yu San responded expressionlessly and went to the back.
Shen Shaoguang sent A Yuan to Qiu Da’s place to buy a few Sesame Flatbreads and placed a plate of braised spare ribs on the dining table—she had started stewing them before leaving, and by now, the meat was tender and falling off the bone.
In this era, those with a little extra money ate three meals a day, while the poor only ate two. Shen Shaoguang suspected Yu San hadn’t eaten lunch.
When Yu San returned, she said, "Eat."
Yu San glanced at her, sat down, and began eating. He must have been truly hungry, as he ate quickly but not rudely.
After he finished, Shen Shaoguang asked for his thoughts on the flavor.
"Too much sugar, not enough salt."
She raised an eyebrow.
"—But better than what I can make."
"...!" Well, at least he had a discerning palate. Shen Shaoguang was always good at finding the strengths in her people.
She explained to Yu San that the people of Chang'an had a sweet tooth, and since this was a dish meant to be eaten on its own or with wine, she had added more sugar and less salt.
Yu San nodded.
"Can you cook fish? There’s a carp over a foot long in the back!" Now that he was fed, it was time to put the new cook to the test.
Yu San nodded again and asked, "Should I make it now? It’s best eaten hot."
Shen Shaoguang smiled. "If there are no customers, we’ll eat it ourselves."
Without another word, Yu San went to the small water vat in the kitchen, grabbed the fish, and took it to the back to clean.
Watching his fish-cleaning technique, Shen Shaoguang felt relieved. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about preparing fish anymore.
Every time she saw A Yuan whacking fish with a stick, Shen Shaoguang winced for the poor creature. Worse, sometimes the fish wasn’t fully dead—just stunned—and would suddenly twitch or flap its tail while being cleaned.
As the saying goes, "Seeing it alive, one cannot bear to see it die; hearing its cries, one cannot bear to eat its flesh." Shen Shaoguang was no sage, nor could she stay far from the kitchen, but she still felt a pang of guilt.Yu San was much more efficient—a single, clean cut to dispatch the fish, showcasing the skill of a true executioner.
Just as deftly as he killed the fish, Yu San also handled the meat. He chopped off the head and tail, keeping only the thick middle section. After removing the skin and cutting it into segments, he lightly seasoned the pieces, coated them in a thin layer of egg white and starch, then fried them in oil.
Looking at the mercilessly discarded fish head and tail, Shen Shaoguang couldn’t help but think that with such a refined and extravagant approach to cooking, Yu San’s former master had probably eaten himself into poverty. When Yu San said the man had sold his chef to afford a feast, it might not have been an exaggeration.
The fish turned golden in the oil and was set aside. A new pan was heated with oil, where Sichuan peppercorns, scallions, and ginger were stir-fried until fragrant. Then, a sauce mixture of yellow wine, Clear Soy Sauce, vinegar, and sugar was added, followed by the fish. The heat was turned up high to reduce the sauce.
Once plated, the fish pieces curled slightly at the edges, glistening with rich, glossy sauce. It looked promising and smelled even better—not quite braised, not stewed, not sweet and sour, but somewhat reminiscent of the later-era tile-fish.
Before Shen Shaoguang could take a bite, a regular customer who often bought jade tip noodles walked in.
Spotting the fish, the customer’s eyes lit up. With a smile, they asked Shen Shaoguang, “Our Grand Madam Jiang didn’t eat much at noon and is now having porridge. She craves something flavorful, so she sent us here to check—is this fish for sale?”
Meeting the eager gaze, Shen Shaoguang pressed her lips together. “Fine, take it,” she relented, adding, “Eat it while it’s hot.”
The customer grinned. “Thank you, thank you! I’ll return the plate later.” It was customary for eateries to sell dishes but not the serving ware.
With the freshly cooked fish sold, Shen Shaoguang didn’t get a single bite. She wiped her finger along the unwashed pan—hm, overall savory with a hint of sweetness and tang. Not bad.
Lin Yan was far luckier than Shen Shaoguang—he at least got to taste a piece of the fish.
The moment he stepped into his grandmother’s quarters, the rich aroma of fish greeted him. Grand Madam Jiang sat on the couch, a small dining table before her holding a half-finished bowl of porridge and several side dishes.
“A Xiong, you’re back?” Grand Madam Jiang smiled, then called for someone to serve Lin Yan some porridge. Lately, the old lady had been growing confused again.
“Try this fish—it’s from the Huixianlou outside.” There were two pieces left on the plate, and Grand Madam Jiang generously gave one to her “A Xiong.”
Huixianlou was a renowned restaurant in Hangzhou, standing strong for over a century. Clearly, Grandmother had slipped back to the days when her grandfather served as Hangzhou’s governor.
Lin Yan took a bite. “Hm, not bad.”
“Isn’t it? But I think this isn’t made by the same chef as the sweet and sour fish last time,” Grand Madam Jiang declared with certainty.
Lin Yan glanced at the maid beside her, who mouthed, “Shen Ji.”
He chuckled helplessly. She still remembered Shen Ji’s sweet and sour fish from days ago, yet her claim about different chefs was off the mark…
Author’s Note:
Poor Lin Yan only got one piece of fish, and even poorer Shen Shaoguang only licked the sauce.
Grand Madam Jiang, satisfied, declared, “See? I told you it wasn’t the same chef!”
The tile-fish recipe references Baidu and Liang Shiqiu’s writings.
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