Shen Shaoguang directed Yu San to climb the ladder and replace the old eatery sign with the newly made tavern sign. A Yuan stood by, giving instructions, "Higher, higher, lower, lower..." which made Yu San turn his head and glare at her.
Yu San had initially ignored A Yuan's hostility, but perhaps feeling at a disadvantage or finding the small shop's routine too dull, he began retaliating. The two of them clashed like fire and water, resembling a pair of sworn enemies.
However, there was a silver lining. Under Yu San's provocation, A Yuan's eloquence improved by leaps and bounds, almost erasing any trace of her former simple-mindedness. Shen Shaoguang was quite pleased with this development.
While flipping pancakes, Shen Shaoguang apologized in advance to the customers, "On the 15th, the day after tomorrow, our shop will officially be renamed as a tavern. From then on, we'll specialize in serving wine, meat dishes, and various noodles and pastries, but we'll no longer offer breakfast in the mornings. We hope you'll continue to visit us as often as you do now."
Immediately, some customers wore their disappointment on their faces. "Ah? Then where will we go to buy such delicious pancakes?"
Others chimed in, "Oh, miss, couldn't you keep selling breakfast?"
"My young master insists on eating these pancakes before school every day. If I tell him they're suddenly gone, he might refuse to go to school!"
A scholar in white robes shook his head, "I'm about to travel far away. I thought I could still enjoy your pancakes when I return to Chang'an, but now..."
With such regrets and high praise, Shen Shaoguang felt fulfilled. Human nature is like this—if no one tries to stop you when you leave, it feels rather bland, even though such efforts wouldn't change the traveler's mind.
However, one customer's regret left Shen Shaoguang somewhat uneasy.
Since Liu Feng's failed marriage proposal, he had rarely visited the shop. But though he stayed away, his servants still came, often buying multiple sets of pancakes.
Naturally, Shen Shaoguang had informed his servant as well. That evening, Liu Feng personally came to congratulate her, smiling regretfully, "It'll be hard to enjoy your pancakes from now on. What will those gluttons at the office do?"
Shen Shaoguang could only smile in response, unsure of what to say. This Liu Feng was truly a gentleman.
The decision to stop serving breakfast had been carefully considered.
Currently, morning pancake sales accounted for a small portion of revenue but required significant effort—preparations the night before, early rising the next day, bustling until the sun was high before shopping for lunch ingredients. Juggling three meals a day was exhausting, and it was time to make some choices.
Moreover, taverns typically didn't serve breakfast. Since they were rebranding as a tavern, it was best to follow convention—lest anyone find fault. Shen Shaoguang chuckled wryly.
For the past two or three months, Shen Shaoguang had been preoccupied with the matter of Cloud Arriving Tavern. Strangely, there had been no movement from that side.
Were they plotting something sinister? Or had those two neighborhood officers been bluffing? Or perhaps—was there really some "auspicious cloud" watching over her, smoothing things out? Shen Shaoguang felt like she'd jumped from a slice-of-life story into a mystery novel.
Meanwhile, Cloud Arriving Tavern was equally frustrated, especially when they saw Shen Shaoguang brazenly change her sign to that of a tavern. Manager Feng smiled helplessly—young ladies, especially pretty ones favored by nobility, certainly had backbone.
Unaware that Manager Feng had cast her in a romantic pampering narrative, Shen Shaoguang resolved to steadfastly follow her own path of humble, everyday life.Based on the scale, location, background, and her own skills, Shen Shaoguang positioned Shen Ji Tavern in the market as a mid-range specialty tavern.
Chongxian Ward was a mid-to-high-end neighborhood. Even the ordinary residents had some disposable income, not to mention the high-ranking officials, wealthy merchants, and affluent families. Here, shabby little eateries not only had low profit margins but were also easily looked down upon, while large taverns were too highbrow for the general crowd. Since it wasn’t located in the East or West Markets—just a single ward—it probably couldn’t sustain such a grand establishment. Of course, Shen Shaoguang couldn’t afford to open one either. Thus, a clean, somewhat stylish mid-range tavern seemed just right.
In truth, Shen Ji’s size was a bit small compared to a typical mid-range tavern like Cloud Arriving Tavern. But considering it was within the ward and the customer flow was limited, it could just barely qualify.
Speaking of the tavern’s tier, the menu was another factor—this involved another aspect of positioning: specialty.
Shen Ji Tavern’s specialty was elevating humble dishes, or as Yu San put it, "making the cheap expensive"—using refined techniques to enhance the value of ordinary ingredients.
Most mid-range taverns nowadays served fish, mutton, and beef dishes. High-end taverns, aside from their luxurious settings, prepared their dishes more meticulously and used premium ingredients, often featuring delicacies like deer tails, bear paws, and camel humps alongside fish, mutton, and beef.
Shen Shaoguang, however, opted for a differentiated approach, steadfastly focusing on pork dishes and adding poultry like chicken and duck—in this era, chicken wasn’t even considered meat and was quite cheap.
Speaking of chicken not being meat, there was a rather amusing anecdote. During the Zhenguan era, the renowned minister Ma Zhou loved eating chicken and would indulge in it whenever he traveled. Someone reported this, but Emperor Taizong said, "I forbid my officials from eating meat to prevent excessive expenses in the provinces. What’s wrong with eating chicken?" Look at that—His Majesty Li Er himself declared that chicken wasn’t meat!
The reason chicken wasn’t considered meat was supposedly because chickens were small and didn’t require professional butchers to slaughter them. Shen Shaoguang, however, suspected it was because raising chickens required little grain and was convenient, making them common in both rural and urban areas. Their cheap price likely contributed to the perception that they weren’t "real meat."
In truth, both chicken and pork were delicious and could absolutely be crafted into exquisite dishes, elevating their status. Taking up the banner of championing chicken and pork, Shen Shaoguang felt a great sense of responsibility.
To complement the refined cooking methods and mid-range pricing, Shen Shaoguang even went out of her way to acquire a set of porcelain tableware—cups, teapots, plates in small, medium, and large sizes, along with soup bowls, rice bowls, and spoons. All were uniformly white with smooth, even bodies and a fine, glossy glaze, free of elaborate patterns or carvings, exuding a simple yet elegant beauty.
The porcelain merchant claimed they were Xing kiln ware. Shen Shaoguang wasn’t well-versed in famous kilns and couldn’t verify this, but in terms of quality, they were excellent. Most importantly, they weren’t too expensive.
The merchant explained that although Xing kiln was an old and prestigious name, it had somewhat declined in recent years, as many now favored Ding kiln.
"Does Ding kiln have such even and thin bodies?" the merchant grumbled indignantly, as if defending the honor of a wronged loyal minister.
Shen Shaoguang chuckled as she paid, earning herself the merchant’s praise as a discerning connoisseur.
She then explained plating techniques to Yu San—color coordination, the charm of negative space… At first glance, one might think she was teaching him traditional painting.
"With the young mistress’s plating method, one dish could be split into three!" Yu San eyed her skeptically.Shen Shaoguang wasn’t offended by being suspected of being a shrewd merchant. “Using fewer vegetables isn’t the goal—beauty is. Of course, we can’t sacrifice quality for appearance either. After all, people come here to eat food, not plates.”
Yu San nodded, feeling the young lady still had hope.
Shen Shaoguang then urged Yu San to practice carving radish blossoms and cucumber flowers.
Those who studied traditional Chinese painting could usually dabble in seal carving. Shen Shaoguang had carved a seal with the character “Shen” for herself—the one stamped on the pancake bags—but carving radish flowers was beyond her. Unexpectedly, Yu San took to it naturally, producing decent work right away. It seemed he had a born talent for delicate craftsmanship.
A Yuan, finding their activity amusing, joined in. Halfway through her carving, she glanced at Yu San’s work, then at Shen Shaoguang’s, before angrily stuffing her own creation into her mouth. “Crunch! Crunch!” From then on, she gave up any ambition to learn carving.
Thanks to the foundation laid during the earlier food stall period, Shen Shaoguang’s tavern operated more smoothly than a truly new establishment—both in terms of customer flow and management style.
Business was slower at noon since many officials and merchants were absent, but evenings were almost always packed, with plenty of wealthy patrons among the crowd.
While Shen Shaoguang was tallying the accounts, an elderly man with a fine three-strand beard and a brocade-lined fur coat walked in.
It was still early, and the shop was quiet. Shen Shaoguang invited the old man to sit wherever he pleased and brought over a small tray with a cup of Fruit Drink. Smiling, she said, “Esteemed elder, please warm yourself with this hot red date and wolfberry drink.”
It was late autumn, bordering on early winter, and the first snow could arrive any day. To ward off the chill, Shen Shaoguang had brewed this red date and wolfberry drink with ginger, dates, and wolfberries—a sip would warm the whole body.
Since Yu San had joined and they no longer served breakfast, Shen Shaoguang had more leisure time for hobbies, such as brewing her own specialty Fruit Drinks. Later, she began sharing cups with regular customers, and eventually, it became a complimentary offering in the shop.
Hearing Shen Shaoguang address him as “esteemed elder,” the old man smiled wistfully, thanked her, and sipped the drink while surveying the shop’s decor. His gaze lingered on the painting of a rustic mountain village inn.
Shen Shaoguang handed him the menu. The old man examined the calligraphy on it, then glanced at the painting. “Young lady, who wrote this menu for you?”
“This humble shop can’t afford extravagance. I scribbled it myself.”
The old man looked at her in surprise. “Did you also paint the village inn scene on the wall?”
“Yes, just a careless doodle. Please don’t laugh at it.”
“May I ask who your teacher was?” He chuckled at his own question—what master could a small shop owner possibly have studied under? Still, she might be a descendant of a fallen noble family. Noticing the shop’s name, “Shen Ji,” he studied Shen Shaoguang’s face closely, as if searching for traces of someone else.
Shen Shaoguang fibbed, “A rice-pounding lady named Li.” It wasn’t entirely a lie—her former palace maid teacher, now in her forties, had indeed worked as a rice pounder before switching to teaching. The calluses from those days still remained on her hands.
Finding no resemblance to any old acquaintance in the young woman’s lovely face, the old man nodded. The common folk had many hidden talents and untold hardships. Today, revisiting this place, his heart was tangled in old memories, making him see mysteries in everything.The elderly gentleman casually ordered the signature dishes: "Lion's Head Meatballs," "Agate meat," "Diced Chicken with Eggplant," "Fried Spring Chicken," "Fish and Lamb Stew," "Hibiscus Meat," as well as "Vinegar Fish," "Braised Cabbage," "Vinegar Celery Stems," and "Eight-Treasure Tofu." He also requested a jug of wine.
The dishes began arriving one after another, with A Yuan carrying them plate by plate to the dining table.
Having grown up in the bustling streets and being naturally straightforward, A Yuan's movements lacked finesse despite Shen Shaoguang's teachings. The elderly gentleman frowned slightly but said nothing.
Shen Shaoguang took the hot water kettle from A Yuan and smiled, "Shall I warm a small jug for you first, sir?"
The old man nodded.
Shen Shaoguang sat properly beside him, slowly pouring hot water into the wine warmer. Gauging the time, she touched the side of the jug to check the temperature. Once it was just right, she picked up the wine jug, gave it a gentle shake to evenly distribute the heat, wiped the bottom with a snow-white cloth, and finally poured a bowl for the gentleman.
The old man smiled and nodded, but his praise was for something else. "Young lady, your Agate meat is excellently prepared."
Praising it before even tasting—either it was flattery or he had tried it before. This gentleman was surely the latter.
Shen Shaoguang thanked him with a smile, invited him to enjoy his meal, then carried the kettle back to the kitchen.
Normally, the shop would simply bring out the wine warmer with hot water and leave the rest to the guests. But since A Yuan's earlier actions might have displeased him, Shen Shaoguang stepped in to smooth things over.
This gentleman was clearly someone of high status, accustomed to servants who moved quietly and cautiously. A Yuan's demeanor was probably unfamiliar to him...
Shen Shaoguang, protective of her own, felt that while A Yuan's movements were a bit bold, they weren't rude—just earnest and endearing. But it seemed others didn’t see it that way. Ah, the service industry...
She also wondered why such a distinguished gentleman would come alone to dine without any attendants.
As she pondered, the old man's servant arrived—along with a familiar face: Lord Lin.
"An Ran, come here!" the old man called out cheerfully to Lord Lin.
Addressing him by his courtesy name and seeing Lord Lin remain seated respectfully, this gentleman was not just elderly but also held a high rank—likely a court official of the third rank or above.
Sure enough, Lord Lin stepped forward and bowed, addressing him as "Lord Li."
Ah! The current prime minister.
As the two high-ranking officials exchanged pleasantries, the prime minister's servant requested to reserve the entire venue.
Shen Shaoguang happily agreed. Private bookings were her favorite—less work and good pay. She promptly wrote "Reserved for honored guests, apologies for any inconvenience" on a signboard usually used for menu advertisements and placed it outside the door.
A chilly breeze slipped into her padded robe. Shen Shaoguang tightened her collar and sleeves, glancing at the overcast sky. It might snow tomorrow. Heading back inside, she closed the door securely and lowered the felt curtain. She then went to the kitchen to remind Yu San and A Yuan to ensure the guests had a pleasant meal, hoping for a generous tip on top of the booking fee—wealthy patrons were often liberal.
Returning to the counter, she realized she'd forgotten to serve Lord Lin the red date and goji berry fruit drink. But seeing them already enjoying their wine, she let it be and stayed quietly behind the counter.
A Yuan brought the vinegar fish on a tray, this time moving much more gently. Shen Shaoguang sighed inwardly—teachable indeed.
Li Yue took a bite of the vinegar fish and remarked, "Light and refreshing, with the delicate flavor of Jiangnan's misty rains!"Lin Yan smiled and also picked up a morsel with his chopsticks. Indeed, it was light and fresh, quite different from the heavy steamed fish dishes of the capital, more akin to Fish Sashimi. With a sidelong glance at the shop owner behind the tall counter, he thought to himself—Grandmother’s palate was truly sharp. Shen Ji had indeed changed its chef.
“Back then, in my leisure time, I often went boating on the lake. Even if there was a bit of wind and rain, I wouldn’t return. Donning a straw raincoat and hat, I’d wait patiently for hours, always managing to catch a few fish—mostly carp and crucian carp, occasionally mandarin fish. Once, I even caught a four-gill perch—only regrettably, there was no esteemed guest to share it with.” Li Yue’s smile gradually faded.
After a pause, Li Yue smiled again. “When I was in Jiangnan, I often longed for the rich, soy-braised flavors of the capital, the aroma of Sesame Flatbread in the morning, and the skewered lamb at the Hu merchants’ taverns in the West Market. Now that I’ve returned to the capital, I find myself missing the water shield soup and perch sashimi of Wu. People are truly strange creatures.”
Lin Yan’s calm voice interjected, “Jiangnan is humid and warm, while the capital has four distinct seasons. The local cuisine is closely tied to the climate and produce…”
Shen Shaoguang tallied the accounts while eavesdropping on their conversation. Ha! If the prime minister was poetic, then this young lord was utterly devoid of romance!
The elder statesman spoke of the misty rains of Jiangnan and the nostalgia for perch and water shield, while Lord Lin talked about adapting to local conditions and how food changes with geography—as if poetry had collided with a natural science lesson… What a waste of Lord Lin’s picturesque face.
Shen Shaoguang stole a glance at the prime minister’s profile. What a handsome old man, with gentle eyes and an air of magnanimity—probably a lady-killer thirty years ago. Compared to this seasoned Jinhua Ham, Lord Lin was merely a half-cured first-year product. The “literary maiden” Shen Shaoguang immediately felt disdain for the young lord.
Li Yue, however, didn’t share her disdain. He nodded with a sigh. “You’re quite right! Overthinking only adds unnecessary regrets.”
A flicker of regret flashed through Lin Yan’s cool eyes, but it was quickly replaced by his usual composure.
Whether it was due to the overcast sky or the early dusk, the room gradually darkened. Shen Shaoguang brought over a large candlestick, placing it near the two guests, lit the wall lamps, and warmed their wine anew.
Watching the tavern maiden’s graceful and unhurried movements, her elegant and serene face, Li Yue suddenly recalled her earlier address of “old sir” and chuckled. “No wonder I’m always reminiscing! When I entered earlier, the young lady called me ‘old sir,’ and I was taken aback. Though I’ve not yet ‘forgotten to eat in my zeal’ or ‘found joy to forget sorrow,’ it seems ‘old age is creeping up on me.’”
Li Yue had married late, and his earlier children had not survived. Now without grandchildren, he was usually addressed by his official title by colleagues. Hearing “old sir” so abruptly had been jarring.
Shen Shaoguang paused briefly, then wiped the bottom of the wine pot with a white cloth before gently pouring for Lord Li. “My lord, please enjoy.”
Both Li Yue and Lin Yan were momentarily stunned, then the prime minister burst into laughter, and even Lin Yan couldn’t suppress a smile.
“You, young lady—” Li Yue pointed at Shen Shaoguang, laughing. “You’re truly mischievous.”
Thick-skinned, Shen Shaoguang grinned. “I must have misspoken earlier.”
Li Yue laughed again.
Lin Yan glanced at Shen Shaoguang. While warming the wine, she had seemed somewhat ladylike, but now, with her eyes crinkled in laughter, she looked like a mischievous child. Recalling her past bizarre remarks, he couldn’t help but stamp her once more with the label of “smooth talker.”A Yuan brought out the fried spring chicken, and Shen Shaoguang helped arrange it on the table, smiling as she said, "This dish uses young chickens under three months old, first boiled, then steamed, and finally fried. It's crispy on the outside and tender on the inside—best enjoyed hot. Please help yourselves, gentlemen." With a slight curtsy, she retreated behind the counter.
Today, Li Yue had come to Chongxian Ward, revisiting old haunts and recalling many past events. Combined with the favor his old friend had asked of him, he found himself melancholic and reflective in front of Lin Yan. But that mood was mostly dispelled by Shen Shaoguang's address of "gentlemen," so Li Yue set aside the unhappy matters and focused on fulfilling his friend's request.
"How old is An Ran now?" Proposals always began with age.
"Yan is twenty-five."
"It's high time you took a bride. Does the Dowager in your household have anyone in mind?"
Shen Shaoguang nearly clapped her hands. Didn’t I say I was a half-immortal held back by my culinary skills? "Bound to find a good wife"—this must be it. A match brokered by the prime minister would undoubtedly be a noblewoman from a prestigious family.
"Yan does not know," Lin Yan replied.
Not knowing meant there wasn’t one. Li Yue smiled. "The other day, I went to Qin Pushe's home for a drink and saw how his fifth daughter has blossomed into an even greater beauty. The last time I saw her, she was just a little girl with her hair in two buns, yet she could already recite the Analects and Book of Songs in full and compose short poems—though she was a bit mischievous. This time, she was every bit the refined young lady, her temperament much steadier..."
Lin Yan listened quietly.
"Has An Ran met this fifth daughter of the Qin family?" Li Yue suddenly changed the subject, raising an eyebrow with a smile.
"Yan has met the lady."
Li Yue continued to smile at him.
Lin Yan pressed his lips together and replied solemnly, "Yan's family is in decline. I fear we are unworthy of the Qin lady."
Shen Shaoguang's brush paused on the ledger. A noble, beautiful, and talented lady like Qin Wuniang, and he wasn’t interested? So, was Lord Lin truly still mourning his late fiancée, unwavering in his devotion? What a good man...
After a moment, Li Yue asked, "An Ran, are you still holding a grudge over the fact that when Minister Cui was exiled, Qin Pushe didn’t intervene?"
Lin Yan looked at Li Yue and, after a pause, replied, "Yan dares not blame anyone. It’s just—Yan and the Qin family have different ways of doing things. Even if we were to marry, it would hardly be harmonious."
Li Yue wasn’t known for his patience, but he was exceptionally tolerant with this younger generation.
Gazing at the door with its felt curtain, Li Yue said slowly, "Since returning to the capital, this is my first time back in Chongxian, though I used to come every few days in the past. Two of my old friends lived in this ward—one of whom you must know: Master West Willow of Guangping Academy."
Master West Willow was a great scholar of their time who had resigned from office a decade ago to teach, earning deep respect among scholars.
"He lived behind your residence, though it seems to be a nunnery now."
Lin Yan was surprised. It wasn’t uncommon for nobles in Chang’an to donate their homes to monks or nuns, but he hadn’t expected Master West Willow to do so—and so close by.
Lin Yan waited for Li Yue to mention the other old friend, but he didn’t.
"Back then, we often drank together at Chu Jiu’s place." Master West Willow’s surname was Chu, and he was the ninth in his family.
"Chu Jiu was younger than the rest of us, barely in his twenties, and unmarried," Li Yue glanced at Lin Yan and smiled, "much like you."
Lin Yan smiled faintly.
"You still have your grandmother at home, but his household revolved around him. So, we always gathered at his place—drinking, sword dancing, composing poetry together... until the incident with Prince Wu."Shen Shaoguang tightly gripped the brush in her hand. With Prince Wu's incident exposed, Chu Jiu... Lord Li's other friend must have been her original body's father, or rather, the father she had never met in this lifetime.
Searching through her memories, there were still fragments about this Uncle Chu—a proper young man with a square face and square jawline. Despite his upright appearance, he loved secretly slipping candy into children's hands—perhaps that was why she could still remember him. But she couldn’t recall anything about his home, now the site of the Luminous Nunnery. Likely, her father never took the children with him whenever he visited.
Shen Shaoguang glanced at Lord Li over there but had no impression of him at all.
"Prince Wu was the most refined among us, and we all had dealings with him." Speaking of this rebel prince from the previous emperor’s reign, Li Yue showed little restraint. The truth was, the case had always been dubious, and it was never overturned—partly because it was decreed by the late emperor, and partly due to certain practical considerations.
"...Among us, Shen Wu exchanged the most poems and songs with him and was his closest confidant. When Prince Wu was implicated, we all tried to help. Shen Wu went everywhere seeking aid and even knelt before the Daming Palace, pleading for Prince Wu’s innocence, arguing that a man of his carefree nature could never harbor rebellious thoughts. It was beneath the palace steps that Shen Wu wept tears of blood."
Lin Yan’s lips pressed tightly together. Back then, when his teacher Cui was in trouble, he had been just as frantic, running into walls everywhere—how similar he was to this Shen Wu. The only regret was that he had been too low in rank to seek an audience with the emperor or plead his case before the palace steps...
"Shen Wu’s actions enraged the late emperor, and later..." Li Yue closed his eyes, unable to continue.
After a pause, Li Yue’s voice steadied. "When Minister Cui was implicated, I heard you were running around trying to help him, and I was reminded of Shen Wu."
Lin Yan nodded, somewhat understanding why this lord had taken such a liking to him—it was because he resembled an old friend. Calculating the timeline, Lord Li’s demotion to Jiangnan and Chu Xiansheng’s angry resignation from office must have been related to this incident.
Lord Li shifted the topic back to Qin Pushe. "Back then, Qin Shisan also spoke up for Prince Wu and was publicly rebuked by the late emperor. He wasn’t..."
Li Yue speculated, "When Minister Cui was in trouble, Qin Shisan didn’t help you—perhaps he was frightened by what happened to Shen Wu." What he didn’t say aloud was that it might also have been the late emperor’s madness in his final years that scared him.
"He isn’t a heartless or unprincipled man."
Lin Yan stood and bowed solemnly to Lord Li. "Thank you for sharing these past events with me. I am deeply grateful."
Li Yue motioned for him to sit. "I didn’t tell you this solely to speak on behalf of Qin Shisan’s little lady. Today, revisiting the old grounds in Chongxian Ward stirred my emotions, and I truly wanted someone to talk to."
"My legs were injured in my early years, and now when the weather changes, the discomfort worsens. My heart also aches intermittently—perhaps I’ll retire in a year or two. After thirty years of ups and downs in officialdom, to end well is still a comfort to this old man. Qin Shisan isn’t far from retirement either, nor are several other senior ministers. The court will soon rely on you young people to carry the burden."
Lin Yan listened respectfully.
"...You must be even more cautious."
After these years in office, Lin Yan no longer had the fiery passion of his youth—mainly because there was no longer anyone to ignite it. Lord Li’s earnest advice felt like that of a true elder to a junior, much like how Teacher Cui had once treated him. Lin Yan accepted his kindness and nodded respectfully in agreement.
Lin Yan suddenly asked, "May I ask, my lord, what was this Lord Shen’s full name?"
"Shen Qian, of the Luoyang Shen family, fifth in his generation. At the time of the incident, he served as Vice Minister of Rites."Lin Yan's eyes widened slightly as he nodded slowly, then tilted his head slightly to glance toward the counter. The dim yellow lamplight illuminated a delicate, half-lowered face, solemn and serene. The brush in her hand swayed gently, though it was unclear what she was writing or calculating.
Turning back, Lin Yan poured a cup of wine for Lord Li before filling his own.
Over tales of bygone days, the two finished the jug of wine. When they stepped outside, Lord Li’s steps were unsteady, and Lin Yan, along with a servant, supported him on either side.
Shen Shaoguang, accompanied by A Yuan, saw them off from behind. "Safe travels, honored guest."
Lin Yan turned his head and met her eyes—red-rimmed yet stubbornly curved into a smile.
He gave her a nod.
At some point, Lord Li’s attendants and servants had arrived outside the shop with his carriage, and even Lin Yan’s own retinue stood waiting. After bidding farewell to Lord Li, Lin Yan watched his carriage depart.
Turning away, he glanced back once more at the slender figure swaying beneath the flickering lantern before walking slowly home, his attendants following silently behind.
Upon entering the gate, the desolate shadows of bamboo in the front courtyard caught his eye. Suddenly, Lin Yan turned and instructed his attendant Liu Chang, "Later, investigate which households in this ward with officials ranked fifth-grade or higher had a master surnamed Shen ten years ago."
Liu Chang bowed and replied, "Yes."
Steward Zhou, standing nearby, smiled and added, "Before Magistrate Fang, the previous owner of this residence was, if I recall, surnamed Shen."
Lin Yan halted and turned back.
"This old servant only heard it mentioned once by a longtime resident of the ward and remembered," Steward Zhou continued in a hushed tone. "That family... seemed to have fallen into misfortune."
Lin Yan nodded and resumed walking. He first went to his grandmother’s courtyard, where the lights had already been extinguished. The night-duty maidservant emerged and quietly reported the daily routines of Grand Madam Jiang—her meals, her rest—nothing out of the ordinary. After a few brief instructions, Lin Yan left.
"Will A Lang not return to his quarters?" Liu Chang asked. Lin Yan’s courtyard was adjacent to Grand Madam Jiang’s for ease of care, but the path he now took clearly led elsewhere.
"I’ve just eaten—I’ll walk a little longer. All of you may disperse," Lin Yan instructed.
"Shall I carry the lantern for A Lang?"
"No need." Lin Yan took the lantern from Liu Chang’s hand.
The attendants bowed and withdrew.
Lin Yan strolled slowly to the garden pavilion and sat on the stone bench to sober up.
The night was overcast, the moon hidden. The garden’s flowers and trees had withered, leaving only tangled branches and vines trembling in the wind—an indescribable bleakness.
The lantern, propped on the railing, faintly illuminated old carvings on a nearby vermilion pillar: "A Qi, three years," "A Qi, five years," "A Qi, six years," "A Qi, eight years." Higher up were two more lines: "A Zhang, eleven years," "A Zhang, thirteen years." The carvings were casual, bearing an air of untamed elegance.
Lin Yan had seen the handwriting of the former owner, Magistrate Fang—precise and restrained, nothing like this.
"A Qi..." Lin Yan seemed to see those bright almond eyes again.
"Back then, Military Advisor Pang must have felt deeply wronged serving under the late lord, given that the late lord made his living selling sandals and weaving mats."
"If the young lady were a weaver girl, what would she do?"
"Beat him up! Beat him until he cries for his parents!" Shen Shaoguang had said fiercely.
"And why is that? Because there’s the ‘foster mother’s’ cost of upbringing involved! Just like our pork dishes..."
Who could have guessed that behind such cunning cheek, spirited arrogance, and carefree ease lay such a sorrowful past?Lin Yan had also encountered descendants of disgraced officials before. Most were either overly cautious to the point of timidity or embittered and pitiable. It was rare to see someone bloom so brightly—was it due to resilience of character, or perhaps... a natural lack of sensitivity?
Perhaps lacking sensitivity would have been better. Lin Yan thought of Cui Ning. If she had been able to back then... He closed his eyes briefly. Enough. Each person has their own fate.
The Chief Clerk of the Capital Office was a long-serving official, well-versed in the capital's anecdotes and particularly fond of talking. With just a casual mention from Lin Yan, he poured out everything like beans from a bamboo tube.
"That Vice Minister Shen was about my age, a descendant of the Chen family of Luoyang, a proper jinshi graduate—eloquent, refined, and quite handsome..."
While Lin Yan was investigating the Shen family's past, Shen Shaoguang was busy tinkering with hot pot.
After hearing so much about her family's history and comparing it with the people and events in her memories—whether because the events were truly sorrowful or due to the ties of blood—Shen Shaoguang felt utterly desolate. For several nights in a row, she dreamed of the original owner's childhood.
The small child in her dreams seemed both like herself and not. The elegant, loving father, the graceful yet slightly proud mother, the steady and reliable A Xiong, the emerald bamboo in the front courtyard, the crabapple blossoms in the rear garden, the parrot under the eaves, the swing frame in the tree... When she woke, her pillow was damp with tears.
To combat this sorrow, Shen Shaoguang threw herself even more fervently into her projects.
Since she wasn't dead, she might as well live with gusto.
What project? Hot pot!
The gourmet Yuan Mei once advocated "abstaining from hot pot," believing that tossing all ingredients indiscriminately into the pot was utterly uncivilized, and he famously questioned, "How can such flavors even be considered?" Though Shen Shaoguang studied Yuan's Suiyuan Recipes as a textbook, she couldn't agree with this particular stance. Winter without hot pot would truly be flavorless.
Sliced beef, lamb, chicken, pork, fish—all kinds of slices. Shrimp balls, fish balls, meatballs—all kinds of balls. Mushrooms, shiitake, enoki, winter bamboo shoots, cabbage, bok choy, chrysanthemum greens—all kinds of vegetables. Even offal and bean products, all tossed into the pot according to personal preference, then dipped in a mix of sauces—oil-based, sesame paste, sesame paste with mashed garlic, fermented tofu, seafood sauce—before devouring noisily...
It was impossible to stop!
The beauty of hot pot perhaps lies in this boisterous, gluttonous indulgence, which is why the refined Yuan Zicai couldn't accept it.
Hot pot did exist in this dynasty. In the palace during winter, small cauldrons were set up for dipping sauces and cooking food on the spot.
The difference was that only one type of ingredient was cooked at a time—beef, lamb, fish, venison, or occasionally other game—unlike the later generations' chaotic medley. The broth was usually bone-based, lacking the myriad of modern spicy bases from the pre-chili era. The dipping sauces also differed, often just clear soy sauce with sesame oil, sometimes with vinegar added.
Shen Shaoguang felt it was absolutely necessary to let the lively people of the Tang dynasty experience the exuberance of modern hot pot.
Step one: commission a few hot pots.
She sketched the design of a later-era copper hot pot and had craftsmen make them. The work was quick, and the craftsmanship decent, though some handiwork was evident. Each pot had considerable heft, sturdy and weighty as if they could last an eternity—which also meant they were expensive! In this era of metal currency, the cost of ten pots made Shen Shaoguang's heart ache.The second step was promotion. How about a hot pot food festival? Draw a picture of a hot pot and write "Red charcoal copper stove, a hundred flavors in small pots," or ride on the Minor Snow solar term with a more literary tagline like "As evening falls and snow threatens, won't you share a drink with me?" Shen Shaoguing pondered and ultimately chose the former. It had to be said that literary flair was truly a technical skill—with her own rather amateurish poetic talent, it was better not to embarrass herself.
Of course, the most important part of a food festival was offering discounts. As someone from a commercial society, she knew all too well that any "festival" meant discounts and spending money.
Yu San was no stranger to this style of cooking and eating on the spot—evidently, his former master had been a true gourmet. Even the shape of the hot pot was easily accepted by Yu San, especially after Shen Shaoguang demonstrated the magical functions of the fire-drawing cap and fire-suppressing cap, earning his approving nod.
It was rare to see this proud little princess so enthusiastic, so Shen Shaoguang smugly explained further about the relationship between the shape of the vent, airflow velocity, and the intensity of the fire.
Unfortunately, the "little princess" couldn't quite agree with Shen Shaoguang's "hundred-flavored small pot" approach of throwing everything in. "Won't that muddle the flavors?"
"That's exactly the point!"
Yu San was left speechless by Shen Shaoguang's retort.
A Yuan giggled beside them. Though she hadn't tasted it yet, she had already decided she liked this thing called hot pot.
Seizing an opportunity, Shen Shaoguang treated A Yuan and Yu San to a preview meal.
Yu San was extremely reluctant, but under Shen Shaoguang's domineering pressure, he had no choice but to comply.
Later, however, his forced participation turned into casual indifference. Judging by how much he ate, Shen Shaoguang figured he must have ended up enjoying it—though Princess Yu San would never admit it.
A Yuan, on the other hand, didn't overthink it and simply dug in with gusto—how could something be so perfectly suited to her tastes? Young Lady Shen was amazing!
Many shared A Yuan's opinion, though some were in Yu San's camp at first, sticking to tradition by only ordering one type of meat to cook and choosing the most traditional clear soy sauce for dipping. But the neighboring table was laden with such a dazzling array of dishes and eating with such fervor that they couldn't help but think—maybe we should try it too?
Once they did, they couldn't stop.
Shen Shaoguang had prepared seven or eight types of dipping sauces: clear soy sauce with sesame oil, sesame paste, clear soy sauce with Sichuan pepper oil, a blend of rice vinegar, clear soy sauce, and sesame oil, as well as optional additions like leek flower paste, shrimp paste, minced garlic, and pepper powder. The sauces were uniformly arranged in small jars on a condiment station for customers to help themselves.
Whether due to the influx of customers or the lively atmosphere from the steaming pots, the little tavern seemed twice as bustling as usual.
When Lin Yan entered and saw the raucous scene, he couldn't help but frown slightly. After a quick scan, he spotted Shen Xiao Niangzi helping a table of guests add a cylinder to a strange-looking stove. Dressed in a brand-new thick woolen Hu-style coat in a rich rouge hue, her brows and eyes relaxed with a hint of a smile, she looked nothing like the woman under the lantern at the door that night.
Noticing him, Shen Shaoguang came over to greet him. "Master Lin, please take a seat here."
Lin Yan nodded and followed her to a table near the edge—set slightly apart from the rowdiest group, showing her usual thoughtfulness.
Unfortunately, her next words weren't so considerate. "Our tavern's new hot pot allows you to cook any meat or vegetables fresh at the table. Would you like to try it?" Shen Shaoguang gestured toward the tables laden with plates and dishes, smiling.
"...Very well."Shen Shaoguang cheerfully presented the specialized hotpot menu, "Please take your pick, my lord. Today we have fresh carp that can be sliced thinly, the mutton is also fresh, and we've newly prepared stuffed meatballs with broth inside—just be careful when eating them to avoid staining your clothes..."
After listening to Young Lady Shen energetically recite the dishes, Lin Yan replied indifferently, "For the hotpot, just the carp will suffice. Also, the usual sweet and sour cabbage, pan-fried tofu, and clear broth meatballs."
"..." Her previous judgment was indeed correct—this Lord Lin truly lacked any sense of fun!
Still, she maintained a smiling face and asked, "Would you like a cup of wine? Or perhaps some noodles? We have four types of jade tip noodles: pure pork, shrimp-infused pork, sour shepherd's purse with pork, and cabbage with pork."
The sour shepherd's purse had been pickled back in spring and only recently taken out of the jar. In spring, shepherd's purse grew abundantly in the wild and wasn't worth much even in the city, but now, as light snow was about to fall, it had become a rare delicacy, making it quite popular. Shen Shaoguang mused that come next spring, she should definitely pickle a lot more.
When she mentioned "sour shepherd's purse," Lin Yan suddenly recalled the words "A Qi, three years old" and "A Qi, five years old" carved on the pavilion pillar.
"Or perhaps some chicken broth broad noodles?"
Lin Yan coughed lightly, slightly uncomfortable. "The broad noodles will do."
Unaware that her childhood nickname was known to outsiders, Shen Shaoguang inwardly teased that Lord Lin must truly adore chicken broth broad noodles.
Author's note: ① "New Book of Tang: Biography of Ma Zhou"
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