The sky was only slightly overcast when Shen Shaoguang left home. Defying the ominous signs, she headed to the West Market, browsed through the food stalls to buy some raisins and sugar for making summer cakes, then stopped at a famous eatery to enjoy two bowls of Cheese Drink with cherries. By the time she stepped out, the weather had turned.
She quickened her pace homeward, but just as she exited the West Market, strong winds picked up and raindrops began pelting down.
Though she carried an umbrella, it was no match for such severe convective weather. Shen Shaoguang hurried back to take shelter under the eaves of the East Gate of the West Market.
The sheltered area was packed with fellow unfortunates caught in the downpour.
"Last year was dry, but this year the rains come frequently."
"At this time last year, the Emperor was at the Circular Mound Altar praying for rain."
"The Emperor is truly blessed by Heaven. I remember rain fell within days after his prayers..."
Listening to their chatter, Shen Shaoguang smoothed her wind-tousled hair while reflecting—it had been a full year since leaving the palace. Now, palace life already felt like a distant memory.
In the palace, the first summer rain traditionally called for Cold Noodles with Sophora Leaves to welcome the season. These "cold noodles" were essentially the chilled noodles of later generations. Even in Shen Shaoguang's 21st century, many families still upheld the tradition of "dumplings at winter solstice, noodles at summer solstice." Such culinary continuity proved the enduring nature of Chinese culture.
The palace's sophora leaf noodles differed little from common versions—both used juice from crushed young leaves mixed into dough, producing jade-green strands with a faintly bitter fragrance.
Of course, palace noodles were more refined, with specialized dough pullers creating everything from wide ribbons to hair-thin strands—some so fine a single noodle could fill a small bowl without breaking, a truly marvelous skill. But fundamentally, they remained the same dish.
Where palace noodles differed was in the toppings.
The late Emperor favored "bear fat" and "deer tenderloin" toppings, the same fillings he preferred in his jade tip noodles—never mind the summer heat.
The current Emperor showed more sense, favoring eel strips or perch slices. The eels were first fried then stewed in bone broth, a labor-intensive but richly flavored dish. The perch was lighter—quickly sautéed at low heat, then stir-fried with scallions, ginger, fermented rice, and seasoning to preserve its tenderness.
High-ranking consorts had varied preferences, but generally followed the Emperor's lead. Thus every summer's arrival sent eel and perch prices soaring in Chang'an. Shen Shaoguang had checked earlier—by mid-afternoon, all eels were already sold out.
Commoners' cold noodles were simpler: dressed with Clear Soy Sauce, garlic paste, vinegar, sesame paste, and fresh cucumber shreds—delicious enough for two hearty bowls. A Yuan mentioned the grain shop owner's wife used to simply pour brine over hers...
Shen Shaoguang suddenly missed her previous life's fried sauce noodles and tomato-egg noodles. The former could still be recreated, but tomatoes remained out of reach.
Perhaps fried sauce noodles tonight? Should she use pork (30% fat, 70% lean) or quail meat? The plump quails delivered this morning would make excellent fine-diced sauce...
As Shen Shaoguang contemplated 180 ways to serve chilled noodles, the rain's intensity waned, settling into a steady drizzle with no signs of stopping.“A Lang, it seems Young Lady Shen is stuck by the rain at the entrance of the West Market.” Just after leaving the residence of Song Shilang in Yanshou Ward, Liu Chang spotted Shen Shaoguang at a glance. After a moment’s thought, he lightly tapped the carriage wall to alert Lin Yan.
Lin Yan lifted the carriage curtain and saw Shen Shaoguang amidst the crowd—dressed in a white blouse and crimson skirt, clutching two packages and an umbrella, looking somewhat disheveled as she tilted her head slightly to gaze at the sky.
Lin Yan’s eyesight wasn’t particularly sharp, so he couldn’t make out the expression on her face clearly. Yet, from that indistinct figure, he sensed a hint of foolishness—or perhaps childishness.
Lowering the curtain, Lin Yan instructed the carriage driver, “Go over and pick her up.”
When the onlookers saw the approaching carriage with its escort, they assumed it belonged to some noble heading to the West Market and quickly moved aside, silently grumbling about how the privileged had nothing better to do than go shopping in such weather.
Shen Shaoguang, however, recognized Lin Yan’s carriage by its family crest, and the mounted attendant in rain gear beside it was unmistakably Liu Chang.
Liu Chang dismounted, approached her with a cupped-hand salute, and said softly, “Young Lady, ride back with our carriage.”
Not one to refuse a convenient ride, Shen Shaoguang thanked him with a smile and walked over, umbrella in hand.
The coachman set down the carriage step for her. Liu Chang didn’t dare offer his hand but stood a step away, ready to catch her if she slipped.
Lin Yan lifted the curtain again, and Shen Shaoguang smiled at him before stepping steadily into the carriage.
Kneeling opposite Lin Yan, she placed the purchased sugar, raisins, and umbrella beside her and nodded in gratitude. “Thank you for your kindness today, Lord Lin.”
“It was on my way,” Lin Yan replied with a faint smile.
Shen Shaoguang lowered her eyes, smiling.
With no one speaking, the sound of rain outside made the carriage feel unusually quiet.
This wasn’t their first time sitting face-to-face, but it was the first in such a confined space—and without a dining table between them. The proximity made the distance between them feel strikingly close. Shen Shaoguang could even make out the intricate patterns on Lord Lin’s robe.
Lord Lin was dressed in formal attire today, the dignified color and his upright posture enhancing his imposing presence. Come to think of it—ah, today was the monthly court assembly...
Her gaze traveled upward—the snow-white collar, the clean-shaven jawline. For the first time, she noticed Lord Lin had a pronounced cupid’s bow. Tsk tsk... Her eyes lingered on his well-shaped lips for a moment before moving up further—his high, straight nose—until they met his eyes.
Shen Shaoguang averted her gaze and remarked casually, “Please also convey my thanks to the Dowager for the tapestry. Such a generous gift—I truly feel undeserving.”
Since the Lin family’s messenger had said the tapestry was from the Dowager, Shen Shaoguang naturally expressed gratitude to her—though why she was thanking Lord Lin directly was another matter entirely.
“My grandmother also enjoyed the candied wisteria you sent,” Lin Yan added after a pause. “Lately, she’s been considering preserving some flowers herself.”
This was a safe topic. Shen Shaoguang smiled and rambled, “Roses are in full bloom now. Pick the largest, thickest petals to preserve—they make excellent fillings for pastries, or you can steep them in water. Adding them to cheese drink is especially lovely—the color is vibrant, and the fragrance is sweet. Peonies may be beautiful, but their preserved flavor isn’t as good. The worst, though, are crabapple blossoms—such a pity for their lovely appearance.”Both of them simultaneously recalled the vibrant and delicate crabapple tree in the residence. Shen Shaoguang regretted her careless words and quickly continued, "It's getting late. The pear blossoms in mid-spring are also excellent for pickling. As for the lotus flowers in the coming months, they’re best suited for frying. And the osmanthus in golden autumn..."
As she spoke, Shen Shaoguang couldn’t help but laugh at herself. If I were to write a Hundred Flowers Compendium , I’d surely annotate the flavors of each flower, just like in The Classic of Mountains and Seas . Destroying the lyre to cook the crane—could anything be more absurd?
Lin Yan raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her crimson skirt neither new nor old, yet her radiant beauty reminded him of the crabapple tree in the back garden after a light spring rain.
The crabapple—a flower of earthly opulence.
Lin Yan averted his gaze. After a pause, he asked, "Have you ever resented your father’s choices?"
Shen Shaoguang’s smile faded. She thought carefully. The original owner of this body had been too young at the time, and in her memories, there was no resentment—only fear and unease. Even her mother didn’t seem to hold any grudges. As for A Xiong... she couldn’t say.
As someone who had crossed over, inherited the identity of the Shen family’s daughter, and spent years as a palace slave, Shen Shaoguang felt regret and pity for the original owner and her family. But resentment? Not really.
Shen Shaoguang chuckled. "I’m too busy thinking about food and drink to spare any extra thoughts for such things."
Lin Yan studied her.
Meeting his earnest gaze, Shen Shaoguang pursed her lips. "Some things can’t be measured by gain or loss—they simply must be done." Like upholding justice and truth...
"My late father merely did what he believed was right."
Lin Yan fell silent for a long while, gazing at Shen Shaoguang’s beautiful, composed face and listening to her calm yet heart-stirring words.
Shen Shaoguang found conversing with this Lord Lin utterly exhausting and decided to remain quiet, letting her mind wander to the sound of rain outside the carriage.
Thud. The carriage suddenly jolted to a stop, sending Shen Shaoguang lurching forward toward Lin Yan. Instinctively, he reached out to steady her, and she ended up tumbling into his arms.
Both froze in surprise.
Outside, chaos erupted.
Shen Shaoguang straightened and returned to her seat. Lin Yan withdrew his hand, clenched it briefly, then placed it back on his lap with deliberate dignity.
Liu Chang reported from outside, "A horse seems to have spooked ahead, causing a collision between carriages."
"Go and see," Lin Yan instructed.
Encountering a Tang Dynasty traffic accident and ensuing congestion left them no choice but to wait.
A faint sweetness seemed to permeate the carriage. Lin Yan hadn’t noticed it earlier, but now the sugary scent seemed to invade his nostrils.
His eyes flicked to the package of paper-wrapped candies beside Shen Xiao Niangzi. Dampness had seeped through, leaving faint stains. He instinctively glanced at the front of her dress before quickly lowering his gaze. She must have smeared candy on her clothes...
The pervasive sweetness left Lin Yan feeling both restless and oddly soothed. He lifted the carriage curtain—the relentless drizzle outside only added to his irritation.
Shen Shaoguang, however, was unfazed. In her past life, physical contact of this degree had been commonplace—just think of rush-hour subway rides.
Still, Lord Lin, for a scholar, had surprisingly firm arms and chest... Proof that Tang Dynasty scholars truly lived by the adage: On horseback, they pacify the realm; dismounted, they wield the brush.
Her thoughts turned to the great figures of the Tang Dynasty, and her gaze settled once more on Lord Lin. Regrettably, her ignorance of Tang history left her wondering—would this man rise to become a general or a chancellor? Would his name be etched into the annals of Tang’s illustrious ministers?Liu Chang, carrying the Jingzhao commandery's insignia, along with a few capable guards and attendants, soon reported that they could continue their journey. He briefly explained the cause of the accident and how it had been handled. The two injured were family members of Zhou Qin, a scholar of the Imperial Academy, with only minor scrapes and no serious harm. They had already been sent to a nearby medical clinic. "I left Fu Jing to handle the matter," Liu Chang added.
"Very well, let's proceed," Lin Yan nodded.
This short but unexpectedly eventful journey finally came to an end as the carriage stopped in front of Shen Ji Tavern.
A Yuan and A Chang were anxiously looking around. When they saw Shen Shaoguang, they rushed out without even grabbing an umbrella. "Young Mistress, you're finally back! Yu Sanlang went to fetch a carriage for you. Were you caught in the rain?"
"It's fine, it's fine..." Shen Shaoguang reassured them, then turned to wave goodbye to the Lin family with a smile. She instructed A Chang to take an umbrella and go find Yu San.
Catching a lingering sweet fragrance in the carriage, Lin Yan lowered the slightly lifted window curtain. "Let's go."
That evening, while handling documents in his study, Lin Yan caught the same sweet scent again.
Taking a bite of the Wisteria Fritters, he recalled the events of the day—her words, "Some things must be done, regardless of gain or loss," and the sensation of holding her soft, fragrant form. Picking up his brush, he wrote the character "mustard" on the paper. After studying it for a long moment, he smiled with a hint of resignation.
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