In the middle of the night, a drizzling rain began to fall. Shen Shaoguang was awakened by faint rumbles of thunder. Judging by the intensity, this drought might finally be broken. She thought back to the emperor's rain-praying ceremony over half a month ago and couldn't help but smirk. The heavens had at least saved face for their earthly son—how awkward it would have been otherwise.
Shen Shaoguang wrapped herself tighter in the cotton quilt and closed her eyes contentedly. Rain was wonderful—it meant she could skip setting up her stall and sleep in.
While street vendors could laze around during rain, those attending court had no such luxury.
Lin Yan sat in his carriage when he spotted Liu Feng, the records officer, not far ahead. Holding an umbrella and wearing straw sandals, the man looked thoroughly dejected as he waited in the rain. The slippery ground must have made him abandon his horse and walk to the office instead.
Lin Yan signaled to his attendant outside, and one of them dismounted to approach Liu Feng.
Liu Feng turned around, first bowing respectfully toward Lin Yan's carriage from a distance. After exchanging a few words with the attendant, he followed him over.
Once aboard his superior's carriage, Liu Feng grew visibly uneasy—only for his stomach to betray him with an audible growl. His face flushed instantly, hoping the pattering rain outside would drown out the sound.
Lin Yan glanced at him.
Mortified, Liu Feng clasped his hands. "My apologies for the impropriety."
"No matter," Lin Yan replied with a faint smile. After a pause, he added, "Was that pancake truly so delicious?" There had clearly been a vendor nearby selling Sesame Flatbread, cloaked in rain gear.
Liu Feng's face reddened further as he stammered, "This humble official—I—"
Lin Yan raised a hand slightly.
Liu Feng fell silent and sat quietly.
Lin Yan closed his eyes to rest.
True to her word, Shen Shaoguang didn't rise until mid-morning. After a leisurely wash, she strolled out with an umbrella to a nearby eatery for a bowl of chicken wontons. The wrappers were too thick, the filling meager, but the broth had some flavor.
After wandering around to buy rice and vegetables, she ambled back. Passing the rear gate of the former Shen residence, she noticed a crabapple branch stretching over the wall, its petals scattered by the rain. Tsk—rain-drenched blossoms by a secluded gate, what a poetic scene.
Searching her memories, Shen Shaoguang vaguely recalled this very tree. The original owner's mother had loved gathering crabapple petals—not to bury them, but to blend into rouge. She'd once praised their "peerless hue," just as her husband approached and teasingly quipped in jest, "Pity they lack fragrance." The woman had first glared at him before bursting into laughter.
Remembering their days in the palace servitude, Shen Shaoguang thought this lady had been like the crabapple itself—a flower of worldly elegance. How could she endure such hardship? She lasted only a year before passing, leaving her nine-year-old daughter behind. That child struggled on for another year before following her mother, making way for Shen Shaoguang, this stranger from another world.
Gazing at this "home" she'd never lived in, Shen Shaoguang sighed over its history.
She'd heard it now housed a Deputy Chief of the Capital—a high-ranking official in crimson robes. Though neighbors for days, she'd never seen his face. I wonder when this "Deputy Mayor of Chang'an" will inspect the street food scene... Amused by her own humor, Shen Shaoguang splashed through puddles back to the nunnery, umbrella in hand.
Returning, she soaked glutinous rice, read a few pages, practiced calligraphy, and thus idled away the morning.
For lunch, she simply pinched dough into broad noodles, tossed in greens, and topped it with a poached egg to make a bowl of vegetable Broad Noodles. After ladling it out, she added two spoonfuls of homemade garlic chili paste—giving it some kick.After lunch, she lazed around for a while before getting up to fiddle with some snacks.
Since she had bought some good glutinous rice today, she decided to make Ai Wowo (Glutinous Rice Cake).
The imperial palace of this dynasty often made cakes too—crystal phoenix cakes, purple dragon cakes, jade beam cakes, and during festivals, there were dogwood cakes, chrysanthemum cakes, and sesame cakes to suit the occasion. The names were fancy, but they didn’t quite suit Shen Shaoguang’s taste—probably because people of the Tang Dynasty had a heavy preference for sweetness. Just think, they even drizzled sugarcane syrup over cherries. So, every year when spring turned to summer, Shen Shaoguang especially missed the Ai Wowo from her past life.
Making Ai Wowo wasn’t too troublesome. Soft, steamed glutinous rice was kneaded into a dough, divided into small portions, and flattened into wrappers, which were then filled with various fillings—hawthorn, sesame, jujube paste, or red bean paste.
Once wrapped, they were rolled in toasted glutinous rice flour, turning them snow-white, almost as if defying frost and snow. Some said they could also be rolled in toasted wheat flour, but since her family had always used glutinous rice flour, Shen Shaoguang considered it the authentic way.
Today, however, the Ai Wowo she made wasn’t like the ones she’d had before. The difference wasn’t in the flour but in the filling—she used the peony paste she had made a few days earlier.
The nunnery had a rather large peony tree, which, in full bloom, bore hundreds of deep red flowers, a sight of extravagant beauty. Shen Shaoguang had gathered many petals, originally intending to make a couple of sachets in a pretentious display of refinement. But then she remembered the famous rose paste from Dream of the Red Chamber and changed her mind. She pounded the petals in a mortar, mixed them with sugar and honey, and let them steep for a few days. Once the raw floral scent faded, the taste turned out surprisingly good.
Now, too lazy to prepare another filling, she decided to use it.
This peony paste Ai Wowo, if nothing else, was visually stunning—snow-white wrappers with bright red filling, evoking poetic phrases like "rosy cheeks and cherry lips."
Shen Shaoguang arranged the Ai Wowo on a white porcelain plate and took it to share with the Abbot, a fellow food enthusiast.
"What an exquisite treat!" the Abbot exclaimed with a smile before even tasting it.
Upon taking a bite, her expression turned to surprise. "Is this peony?"
Shen Shaoguang grinned. "Exactly—from the peony tree in the courtyard. I’m literally offering flowers to the Buddha."
The Abbot laughed and playfully pointed at her. The two often chatted, and by now, they had developed something of a friendship that transcended age.
"We’ve eaten peony petals before, but they were fried—nowhere near as sweet and fragrant as this. The color is lovely too."
Shen Shaoguang didn’t keep secrets and explained how she made the peony paste. The two then discussed ways to refine the recipe further.
Over light tea and food talk, the plate of Ai Wowo gradually disappeared—Shen Shaoguang ate two, Jingqing ate two, and the remaining four went to the Abbot.
Even so, the Abbot still seemed unsatisfied.
Shen Shaoguang chuckled. "This candied peony filling is only possible in this season. Normally, red bean or jujube paste works just fine."
Suddenly, the Abbot remembered something. "The Start of Summer is in a few days. Compared to this Flower Cake, the bean cakes we usually steam in the nunnery are far too plain. Why not switch to this one this year?" It was a custom to eat steamed cakes on the Start of Summer, said to prevent heat rash.
Jingqing quickly agreed. Shen Shaoguang thought to herself—being a nun like the old Abbot must be quite the life.However, Jingqing later came to ask Shen Shaoguang for help. "If these cakes were only for our nunnery, we wouldn’t dare trouble you, Benefactor Shen. But during festivals, we always distribute food to our kind-hearted neighbors and devotees inside and outside the district. If they’re poorly made, we’ll become a laughingstock." Jingqing bowed with an earnest expression. "Please, benefactor, offer your guidance."
Since she was staying here, such a small favor was naturally something she should help with. Shen Shaoguang agreed without hesitation.
Given the limited manpower and the large quantity needed, Shen Shaoguang suggested making red bean paste filling—because whether steaming, pounding, or straining, the effort required was the same regardless of the amount.
At this time, red bean paste was still considered a luxury—not because the ingredients were expensive, but because the process was tedious. It was said that during the Tianbao era, Guo Guofuren’s household made the best red bean paste, called "Soul Sand Paste." They also filled glutinous rice cakes with it. Because the cakes were pounded until semi-transparent, the color of the filling could be seen through, earning them the name "Flower-Revealing Cakes."
The Abbot watched as Shen Shaoguang instructed the cook-nuns to stir-fry the red bean paste and shared some historical anecdotes with her: "Years ago, there was a cake shop in the East Market of Chang’an that made Flower-Revealing Cakes with great refinement. Because their pastries were so excellent, the owner was able to purchase an official title and became known as the 'Flower Cake Official.'"
Shen Shaoguang laughed. Every trade has its master—truly so. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret: if only she were a man, she might have considered this path to officialdom.
Jing Ci stood nearby, listening to Shen Shaoguang and the Abbot chatting so casually. She couldn’t hide her surprise—when had the Abbot ever been this talkative and cheerful? Had this young lady surnamed Shen cast some spell on her? As she eyed the red bean paste, her mind turned to finances—how much had been spent, and how much "basket money" could be collected from each household in return.
Author’s Note: Every word Lord Lin says today will come back to slap him in the face. Poor kid...
Lord Lin smiled faintly: It doesn’t hurt.
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① Found via Baidu, but no exact source was located.
② Adapted from an anecdote in "Qing Yi Lu."
Additionally, the section on Ai Wowo references Baidu and Mr. Deng Yunxiang’s "Yunxiang’s Culinary Talks."
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