Xu Yuan asked Wen Ning if she wanted to eat *Gudong Pot*. He had opened several Gudong Pot shops, and business was good. Since he had run into his niece and her husband, he felt he ought to play host.
Wen Ning’s eyes lit up at the mention, and she couldn’t help swallowing. “C-can we?”
Xu Yuan smiled. “Of course. Ning Ning, can you handle spicy food?”
Wen Ning nodded vigorously. “I can’t live without spice!”
Xu Yuan turned to the Heir. “Can you eat spicy food, Heir?”
Shen Zhou froze. Could he eat spicy food? Of course not! Since childhood, even a bite of chili would choke him. Because of this, Duchess Xu had ordered the kitchen never to add chili to his meals. The stricter the control, the less he could tolerate it.
But now, seeing Wen Ning’s sparkling eyes, he felt a lump in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to admit he couldn’t eat spice.
Xu Yuan pressed him again. “Heir, can you or not?”
Shen Zhou took a deep breath. He was a man—how could he say he couldn’t? Even if he couldn’t… he had to!
Grinding his teeth, he declared, “Of course I can.”
At this time, *Gudong Pot* was made by placing vegetables, meats, tofu, seafood, and other ingredients into a boiling broth to cook. The key was freshness—dip the meat and vegetables into the bubbling pot, cook them quickly, then eat them with sauce. Because the broth boiled noisily, making a *gudong gudong* sound, this method of eating became known as *Gudong Pot*.
It was an extremely convenient way of cooking. Soldiers at war, often lacking proper tools, usually roasted food or stewed it in large cauldrons.
Later, someone tried Gudong Pot and found it not only tasty but also practical.
Soon, the method spread widely. Many common folk also ate Gudong Pot during the cold winter months.
In cold weather, a family gathered together, savoring steaming food—wasn’t that the very essence of earthly warmth?
Xu Yuan had once discovered this way of eating while traveling for business. Journeying far and wide, he found that beyond the usual clear broth, some regions added their own local twists. For example, in Lingnan, they replaced the clear broth with a porridge base. The fragrant porridge, enriched with chicken and fish slices, was both nourishing and delicious.
He had also visited a small coastal county where a special Gudong Pot was popular—beef hotpot. The beef had to be of the highest quality, and beyond freshness, knife skills were crucial. Each cut was different, depending on the part, and was sliced thin so it cooked instantly when dipped in boiling water. Paired with the local satay sauce, it was so flavorful that one could hardly stop eating. Unfortunately, transportation in this era was inconvenient, making it impossible to replicate that beef hotpot elsewhere. Fortunately, he discovered another style of hotpot.
In Sichuan and Shu, people loved spice. They simmered stir-fried chili spices together with bone broth, creating a hotpot that was fresh, fiery, and irresistible.
Over the years, Xu Yuan opened Gudong Pot shops across the land, earning considerable silver. Now, hearing that his niece loved Gudong Pot, he immediately took her to one of his own shops.
Wen Ning was delighted, but she didn’t forget to glance back and ask Shen Zhou, “Heir, do you like spicy food?”
Shen Zhou looked at her radiant smile and replied with a grin, “Of course, I love spicy food most of all.”
Xu Yuan raised his brows at that, then warmly ushered them into his shop. He ordered several signature dishes: fresh beef, shrimp paste, beef tripe, omasum, vegetables, duck blood…
For noble households, Gudong Pot was not a dish fit for banquets. But for ordinary folk, in the cold of winter, a hot bite of food was a great happiness. Thus, Gudong Pot was priced modestly, and most of Xu Yuan’s customers were commoners.
The shop boy, seeing the owner personally bring guests, eagerly recommended the restaurant’s most famous spicy pot. It was said the level of spiciness was “insanely hot.”
At that, Shen Zhou’s body trembled—but his face betrayed nothing. No wonder—it was Xu Yuan’s shop. Just like the man himself, it was extreme.
Fortunately, Xu Yuan wasn’t completely extreme—he ordered two non-spicy desserts for them: brown sugar rice cakes and candied sweet potatoes.
Wen Ning’s eyes sparkled as she looked at the boiling Gudong Pot before her. She had always loved spicy food, but in noble households, women were held to strict standards. Eating spicy food was frowned upon, lest it leave an unpleasant smell.
In her past life, after marrying Song Yan, she once passed by a Gudong Pot shop and, on a whim, dragged him inside to try it. Unexpectedly, Song Yan looked at her with disdain. “We are people of status. How could we eat such things like common folk?”
After that, Wen Ning never mentioned Gudong Pot again. Now, given the chance, she eagerly tasted a piece of freshly cooked beef. The beef was tender and smooth, dipped in the secret sauce—spicy, stimulating, its bold fragrance filling her mouth instantly.
Wen Ning’s eyes curved in satisfaction. She called to Xu Yuan and Shen Zhou: “Uncle, Heir, you should eat too.”
Xu Yuan, being in the business, was no stranger to Gudong Pot.
But Shen Zhou—Wen Ning knew he always ate with elegance. Today, however, he seemed *extra* elegant and slow.
Wen Ning asked considerately, “Heir, are these dishes not to your taste?”
Just as Shen Zhou was about to answer, he choked. He quickly lifted his teacup and drained it, barely suppressing the cough. His eyes reddened—a rare sight. “No, not at all. I like it very much.” He spoke slowly, ate slowly, as if afraid of choking again.
Xu Yuan, watching, couldn’t help laughing inwardly. He had long heard Duchess Xu say that her husband and son couldn’t tolerate spicy food.
Years ago, when Xu Yuan stumbled upon fine chili spices, the first thing he did was send them to Duchess Xu. She declined—her husband and son both preferred mild flavors and were unable to eat chili. Though she herself loved chili, her stomach was too weak; every time she ate it, she felt unwell.
When he suggested Gudong Pot earlier, Xu Yuan hadn’t remembered Shen Zhou’s intolerance. Only when Shen Zhou choked did he recall.
But seeing Shen Zhou across the table, slowly eating, alternating spicy bites with sips of tea, Xu Yuan suddenly thought—his niece was truly blessed.
Wen Ning then told Xu Yuan that she wanted to enter the grain business.
Xu Yuan nodded. Running a grain business required background; it wasn’t something just anyone could do.
Usually, grain supply was monopolized by noble families or wealthy merchants with strong local connections.
But Wen Ning was the daughter-in-law of the Duke’s household—what did she have to fear?
Xu Yuan thought for a moment. “Do you mean to open a shop in the capital? Or are you planning a chain?”
Hearing this, Wen Ning knew she had found the right person to talk to. “I want to open branches. That way, moving grain will be more convenient.”
Xu Yuan looked at her with admiration—truly his niece.
Small ventures were meaningless. If you were going to do it, you had to do it big.
He told Wen Ning and Shen Zhou to return first; he would draft a plan and call her to review it later.
Wen Ning and Shen Zhou boarded the carriage back to the estate. Halfway along, Wen Ning suddenly called for it to stop.
Shen Zhou was puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
Wen Ning spoke mysteriously. “Wait for me a moment.”
Without waiting for his response, she took Xiao Tao’s hand and jumped down from the carriage.
Shen Zhou lifted the curtain and saw the shop before them—it was Lanting Pavilion, Wen Ning’s favorite. Was the little girl craving something? Hadn’t they just eaten Gudong Pot? He thought to himself—she had eaten quite a lot just now.
Before long, Wen Ning returned with Xiao Tao, both carrying packages.
Wen Ning climbed back into the carriage, sitting eagerly before him. Her apricot-like eyes shimmered with a smile, her voice sweet and soft. “Just now, I noticed you didn’t eat much. I thought perhaps Gudong Pot wasn’t to your taste.”
Shen Zhou knew Wen Ning loved spicy food. He had gone out of his way to find a shop she liked, but she had noticed he couldn’t handle spice. Afraid she might dislike him for it, his tone grew hurried. “No, I liked it very much.”
Looking into her clever eyes, he scrambled for an excuse. “It’s just… I’ve been overheated these past few days. Got blisters in my mouth, so I can’t eat chili.”
Wen Ning’s expression softened in sudden understanding. She handed him the pastries, dimples showing. “So that’s it. Then, when you’re better, we’ll come eat again.”
At the thought of that boiling, fiery red broth, sweat broke out at Shen Zhou’s temples. “Yes… yes, of course!”