The heavy snow had been falling for three days, turning the entire imperial capital white. On the fourth day, the sun finally rose from the east, looking like the lone egg yolk in a large basin of white flour.
Shen Shaoguang glanced at A Yuan, who had made the comparison, then back at the sun. "It really does look like it."
"And it's not even cooked yet," A Yuan added, rubbing her chilled cheeks and sniffing. A cooked one would never be this cold!
In the early morning’s biting northern wind, Shen Shaoguang, along with Yu San, A Chang, and A Yuan, was sweeping snow at the doorstep. Snowfall wasn’t as cold as the thaw, but thankfully, they had just eaten steaming hot Mutton Soup Cake—otherwise, they might have frozen to death.
Shen Shaoguang also sniffled, her breath forming a puff of white mist as she spoke. "Right, definitely raw."
A Chang grinned beside her.
Yu San, meanwhile, kept sweeping with a steady rustle of the broom.
Shen Shaoguang sighed again. "This really does justice to the Winter Solstice."
In the blink of an eye, it was already the Winter Solstice—the day with the longest night and shortest daylight of the year. In this dynasty, the Winter Solstice was a major festival, second only to the New Year’s celebration. Court officials were granted a seven-day holiday, and even government-owned slaves were given three days off.
On the day of the solstice, the palace held a grand court assembly and a banquet for all officials. Some years, the emperor would also go to the Circular Mound Altar in the southern suburbs to offer sacrifices to heaven. In the evening, there was a family banquet in the palace—truly a busy and exhausting day for the emperor.
The imperial consorts had it much easier. The favored ones only needed to fuss over their attire and jewelry for the evening banquet, while the less favored ones, after eating the "imperially bestowed" Mutton Soup Cake, would pass the time with their maids by drawing the Nine-Nine Cold Dispelling Picture.
The palace maids were even happier, wearing the new holiday clothes bestowed upon them a few days prior and enjoying soup cakes with more meat than usual—though somewhat cold, requiring reheating on a small stove before they could be eaten, lest they be topped with a layer of congealed mutton fat.
For the past few months, breakfast had been prepared by Yu San, but this morning, Shen Shaoguang had taken charge, making the very same Mutton Soup Cake served in the palace.
It was quite simple to prepare: the night before, the mutton was cut into small pieces and stewed until tender. In the morning, warm water was used to knead the dough, which was then torn into pieces and boiled in a separate pot of clear water before being ladled into bowls. The piping-hot mutton and broth were then poured over the noodles, resulting in a hearty dish perfect for such cold weather.
Compared to the Mutton Crumbles Stir-fried Thin Noodles Yu San had made a couple of days earlier, this Mutton Soup Cake had a subtler, more lingering aroma, though it lacked the "zing" of stir-frying. The only special thing about it was the skill of the young mistress’s hands—the Broad Noodles she tore came in various shapes: some like leek leaves, others like delicate, finely pleated flower petals, some resembling goldfish, and others shaped like butterflies. Each of the four bowls had a different design.
A Yuan glanced at Shen Shaoguang, knowing the young mistress indulged her, and promptly picked the bowl with the flower-shaped noodles. Shen Shaoguang chose the goldfish, Yu San took the leaf-shaped ones, and A Chang cheerfully grabbed the bowl with butterflies.
Worried they might still be hungry, Shen Shaoguang also used the original griddle to fry a few egg pancakes, though without the Fried Dough Twists to wrap them in.
Now, after being out in the cold and moving around, whatever they had eaten had long since been digested.
Shen Shaoguang smiled at A Yuan, Yu San, and the others. "At noon, let’s cook Large Crescent Wontons."
What Shen Shaoguang called Large Crescent Wontons were actually dumplings. At this time, dumplings hadn’t yet earned their name and were considered a branch of wontons, often eaten in broth.In my past life, every holiday was a food festival, and for northerners, half of those food festivals were dumpling festivals—especially the winter holidays. Eating dumplings for several days straight during the New Year, even with different fillings, eventually made me sick of them.
Back then, I thought to myself, once I have my own little family, I’ll eat rice, hotpot, pizza, barbecue—even instant noodles—anything but dumplings during those days.
Who would’ve thought that in this alternate time and space, where I’ve truly become the head of the household, I’d still be a dumpling advocate.
A Yuan, however, wasn’t as rebellious as Shen Shaoguang had been in her past life. She cheered, “Great!” and added, “The large shrimp and pork wontons you made last time were so delicious.”
Shen Shaoguang made the decision: “Then today, we’ll stick with shrimp and pork filling.”
A Yuan even quickened her pace as she swept the snow.
On big occasions like today, most families gathered for reunion meals and drinks, so few came to the tavern. Shen Shaoguang had only prepared a modest amount of ingredients for customers and could peacefully celebrate the holiday with A Yuan and the others.
She washed a few copper coins and set them aside, along with a piece of white tofu.
A Yuan looked at her curiously, and even Yu San didn’t know what the young mistress was up to.
Like all elders teaching children, Shen Shaoguang mixed the coins into the filling as she wrapped the dumplings and explained to A Yuan and the others, “Whoever bites into a coin will have great fortune next year.”
Yu San scoffed, while A Yuan and A Chang genuinely laughed.
A Yuan giggled, “That’s wonderful! I have a big appetite and eat a lot, so I’m sure to get the one with the coin.”
Shen Shaoguang nodded—her grasp of probability was solid.
“If I get it, I’ll give it to you, young mistress. If you have great fortune, I’ll share in it too.”
Warmed by the child’s words, Shen Shaoguang smiled.
A Chang also grinned, “If I get one, I’ll give it to you too.”
Shen Shaoguang turned her beaming eyes to Yu San.
Yu San, expressionless as he pinched the dumpling folds, said flatly, “They’ll have already taken a bite. Wouldn’t you find that disgusting, young mistress?”
Shen Shaoguang smiled. “Not at all. They can have the wonton—I just want the coin.”
Yu San: “…”
After teasing Yu San, Shen Shaoguang felt refreshed and continued enlightening A Yuan and the others. “We’ll also wrap a few with just tofu. Whoever eats one will have good luck.” To prevent A Yuan from offering hers again, she quickly added, “I already have plenty of luck. You all should eat more to boost yours.”
A Yuan and A Chang nodded earnestly.
Yu San had nothing left to say, only hoping to finish wrapping quickly and get away from these three.
As expected, there were few customers at noon—just a few scholarly-looking men, likely candidates for the imperial exams or perhaps those who had failed before and stayed in the capital seeking opportunities.
After lighting the hotpot and warming wine for them, Shen Shaoguang and the others returned to the kitchen to enjoy their own "Large Crescent Wontons."
At this time, dumplings didn’t yet carry much "homesickness," but as a time traveler, Shen Shaoguang infused them with the warmth of a millennium later. She brought a few bowls to the scholars far from home.
“These are complimentary holiday treats from our humble shop. As the sun shifts south and the days grow longer, may you all be blessed with health and prosperity.” Shen Shaoguang delivered the auspicious greeting with a smile.
The scholars thanked her warmly. One particularly handsome and refined-looking man gazed at her intently. Shen Shaoguang raised a brow, smiled, nodded at them again, and returned to the kitchen.Another scholar looked at the handsome man and chuckled softly, "Huan Qi is dashing, and this young lady is beautiful—they'd make a fine pair. But Huan Qi comes from a noble family, so their statuses don't match."
Huan Qi glanced at his friend. "Don't talk nonsense. This is the young lady Liu Sanlang has his eye on. He even sent an official matchmaker to propose marriage with proper rites."
Everyone was quite surprised and turned to look toward the kitchen, but unfortunately, the beauty was blocked by the door.
"We don't live in this neighborhood, so this is the first we've heard of it. That Liu Feng is a proper scholar who passed the imperial exams and holds an official post in the capital. Why would he seek out a common merchant's daughter like this?"
Another scoffed, "Blinded by beauty, of course. Who would've thought that Liu Feng, who always seemed so shy and proper, would lose his head over a pretty face."
Yet another pressed, "Did the marriage go through?"
Huan Qi shook his head. "No. Liu San didn't explain in detail, only said the young lady declined, citing their mismatched statuses."
The other three sighed and shook their heads. "She must be a sensible and well-mannered young lady."
"Look at how refined her speech and manners are—almost like a noblewoman. She must have studied. It's rare to find such a gem among common folk. Liu San probably admired that about her."
"Or maybe he admired her cooking skills? Not only would he enjoy her beauty but also her culinary delights," another joked, taking a bite of dumpling. "I've never had such delicious wontons before."
The one who had accused Liu Feng of being blinded by beauty shook his head in disagreement. "Still, their statuses don't match." After a pause, he added, "Though she'd make a suitable concubine." He turned to Huan Qi. "What do you think, Qi Lang?"
Huan Qi took a sip of wine and smiled. "'Each has their own match; like should pair with like.' It's best for marriage to be between equals."
"Who would've thought that someone as dashing as Qi Lang would adhere so strictly to propriety..."
...
Using others' romantic affairs as conversation fodder, the group happily feasted on hotpot and dumplings. Once sated with food and wine, they settled the bill and left the shop.
The men had spoken in hushed tones, so Shen Shaoguang had no idea one of them was surnamed Huan. Thus, when the young lady and her maid who had visited on that snowy afternoon returned, she could only shake her head regretfully once more. If she hadn't known three days ago, how could she know now?
The young lady lowered her head and sighed softly.
Unable to bear seeing the beauty distressed, Shen Shaoguang offered a suggestion, "Why not write a few notices and post them around the neighborhood? That would be better than relying on chance encounters."
The young lady's eyes brightened. "You're absolutely right." She then asked Shen Shaoguang if there were any stationery shops in the area.
"There used to be one east of the neighborhood that sold excellent Pine Soot Ink. But the owner seems to have some family matter—they haven't opened since the start of winter. For a proper stationery shop, you'd have to go to the East Market," Shen Shaoguang said with a smile. "But I do have some ink and brushes here. If you don't mind their quality, you're welcome to use them."
Shen Shaoguang's writing tools were nothing fancy, just everyday items. The young lady seemed to come from a wealthy family, but under the circumstances, she likely wouldn't mind making do.
Sure enough, the young lady smiled gratefully. "Then I must thank you, miss."
Shen Shaoguang personally fetched the ink and brushes from the counter and asked A Yuan to retrieve her usual writing paper from the back residence.
After a brief moment of thought, the young lady swiftly composed an acrostic poem, with the first characters of each line spelling out "Seeking Huan Lang." She also mentioned a "Buddhist Temple," hinting at her current residence.Shen Shaoguang was quite surprised—evidently, the rate of talented women in this dynasty was high, given how easily she had encountered one. Regardless of the poem's quality, the speed of composition alone was commendable, not to mention the beautiful calligraphy in the delicate "flower-petal" style.
However—while this approach was certainly artistic, its information delivery rate was likely rather low. After all, for this Mr. Huan or his acquaintances to see it, recognize it as an acrostic poem, and deduce the hidden message—that seemed rather difficult.
If Shen Shaoguang were to write it herself, she'd probably model it after an official wanted notice.
But then again, if the child was truly in this neighborhood, they would find him eventually. This method was certainly more dramatic and romantic. Suppressing her own philistine urge to "burn a zither to cook a crane," she decided this approach was indeed quite fitting.
The young lady copied three or four more sheets.
Shen Shaoguang, committed to seeing the good deed through, heated glue on the stove and borrowed A Chang to help post them.
The young lady smiled and requested, "Your tavern sees much foot traffic—could we post one outside?"
Shen Shaoguang agreed with a smile, "Of course."
Shen Ji was formed by combining two shopfronts, giving it considerable space. Shen Shaoguang had specially renovated it, making it appear more orderly than the surrounding stores. A section of the outer wall near the kitchen was especially smooth and eye-catching, having previously hosted several "Night-crying Child" notices and lost dog posters—it was well on its way to becoming the neighborhood bulletin board.
Author's note: ① From Japanese monk Ennin's "Record of a Pilgrimage to China in Search of the Law." Information found online.
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