Though the wind outside was cold, Yuan Niang’s heart raced with tension, a surge of heat spreading through her limbs, palms sweating.
Should she call for help?
But doing so would alarm the intruder, and might even provoke resentment.
She hadn’t heard of thefts in Sanjidi Alley before, and Xu Chenger had said the area was prosperous, with patrols from the Junxun Pu diligently walking the alley at night. Of course, residents of the alley would also “know their place” by sending gifts during festivals and offering small fees for their efforts—not just to the Junxun Pu, but also to the fire brigade. They all had to be appeased.
Don’t think they can’t be proper officials and thus underestimate them.
It’s precisely the petty ones who are hardest to deal with.
If you don’t know your place and refuse to pay today, tomorrow you might suffer a disaster or fire; if they act a bit slower, even the largest fortunes could be reduced to ashes. Besides, the money given isn’t much—just a small fee for their efforts. They don’t demand exorbitant amounts; small households pay less, while shops and businesses afraid of trouble pay a bit more.
But it’s never excessive, never enough to cripple anyone.
They’re all shrewd; if things get ugly, how could they continue collecting money later?
Yuan Niang knew this so clearly because, just days after moving in, before even recognizing her neighbors, the Junxun Pu had come. Granny Wang gave them the fee before they left, smiling and speaking politely, unlike the thuggish villains described by storytellers.
She found it strange at the time and mentioned it to Xu Chenger.
Who knew Xu Chenger would unexpectedly show a mocking expression, saying that anyone could act refined and decent if they got money—it was all superficial, but in reality, they were all wolves.
Yuan Niang then learned that, in Sanjidi Alley, Xu’s family had the only medical shop, thriving in business, so they paid the highest monthly fee. Though compared to Xu’s earnings it wasn’t much, Xu Chenger still found it disgusting, partly influenced by her grandfather.
Xu Chenger’s grandfather privately cursed the patrol soldiers and even the Xiangjun behind them, saying they were increasingly corrupt, lax in discipline, bullying civilians before even reclaiming the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun. Even if the money wasn’t much, it was like flies and larvae, utterly annoying!
Yuan Niang briefly recalled this before refocusing.
Actually, because Sanjidi Alley was wealthy and offered generous fees, the patrol soldiers were more diligent than those in remote areas like Xincao Gate, and security was better. Logically, it shouldn’t be a problem.
Thinking of this, Yuan Niang stayed still, crouching even lower, wanting to see what was happening.
This observation revealed something.
The shadow crouching in the alley, peeking into corners—thanks to Bianjing’s bright lights—could vaguely be seen, familiar in appearance. Because she had argued with him, his face was etched in her memory and now surfaced.
Ruan Xiaoer!
Though unsure if that was his name, the person matched.
Yuan Niang’s vigilance eased. After observing so long, she could see his movements weren’t like theft, but rather searching along the alleyway for something, hence exploring every corner and patch of weeds.
Odd, what could he be looking for at night?
The next day, Yuan Niang got her answer.
Find the cat!
Listening to Xu Chenger’s words, Yuan Niang sensed a hint of guilt—she already had a bad feeling about this.
Sure enough, Xu Chenger continued: “Do you remember we hired two cats? There’s still one black-and-white little tabby cat left, which was hired by Ruan Xiaoer. They say he loves that cat like his own life, spends all day with it, and doesn’t go out to play and annoy people anymore. Yu Niangzi has saved a lot of effort, able to quietly do her embroidery work without having to go out looking for him.
“For this reason, Yu Niangzi is secretly happy, often going to the market to buy cat food, or picking fresh fish to cook herself. My mother says she’s seen Yu Niangzi buying fish at the morning market for several days straight, and she looks quite pleased.”
Yuan Niang lowered her head, groaned, and slumped onto the table, feeling even more guilty.
She now knew where the fish her Xiao Hua ate last night came from—it was bought by Yu Niangzi who went out early!
And, Ruan Xiaoer definitely didn’t find the cat in the end.
Because…
That little black-and-white cat ended up sleeping under her porch all night, and she saw it in the morning when she woke up. Grandma asked what happened, and Yuan Niang recounted the situation from the night. Grandma was visibly moved, saying even animals have affection, so don’t stop it; if you encounter it again, you can feed it more food.
But who would have thought…
“What’s wrong with you?” Xu Chenger noticed Yuan Niang’s odd expression and looked puzzled.
Yuan Niang felt like crying but had no tears, shaking her head with a bitter face.
“I’m fine, just…”
“…I accidentally took someone’s cat.”
Xu Chenger, who was eating a fried dough cake, choked in shock, pounding her chest and coughing, but this didn’t stop her from widening her eyes and shouting loudly: “You, cough, why would you, cough, take the cat for no reason, cough cough cough…”
Xu Chenger thumped for a while, until Yuan Niang quickly brought soybean milk. Xu Chenger gulped down half a bowl before finally calming her breath, exhaling deeply.
Then, her eyebrows raised, her voice suddenly sharpened, and she questioned: “Don’t you fear that ruffian Ruan Xiaoer coming to fight you for it? He treats that cat like his own life, searched all night without sleeping until dawn!”
Yuan Niang frowned miserably, propping her cheek with one hand and sighing, “I didn’t expect it either; that Li Mao came on its own. I thought it was homeless. It even brought a fish to feed my Xiao Hua—who would have thought it belonged to the Ruan family.”
Xu Chenger patted Yuan Niang’s shoulder, “Is it still at your house now?”
Yuan Niang frowned thoughtfully, “It was still there in the morning, stayed for quite a while, ate with Xiao Hua, but when Grandma called me to bring food over, I didn’t seem to see it anymore.”
“Then it’s fine.” Xu Chenger relaxed, finally starting to comfort Yuan Niang, “It wasn’t intentional that you took the cat home. If it’s gone, it probably ran back on its own. I wondered why Ruan Xiaoer’s search for the cat stopped later. Don’t worry about it; even though he’s unruly, he fears his brother and mother. I heard Ruan’s eldest brother is coming back on leave in a few days, so Ruan Xiaoer will have to behave these next couple days.”
Yuan Niang remembered Ruan Xiaoer’s mischievous appearance when they first met and couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Is Ruan’s eldest brother really that formidable?”
Xu Chenger nodded vigorously, without any hesitation, and declared firmly, “He is an extremely fair and honest person, always eager to uphold justice. No household in the Three Jidi Lane fails to praise him. Whenever someone comes to him, he never shows bias—he punishes Ruan Xiaoer exactly as deserved, and even makes Ruan Xiaoer accept it willingly. Even neighbors sometimes seek him out to settle disputes!”
As she spoke, Xu Chenger began to feel regretful.
“Ruan’s eldest brother is skilled in martial arts and even more accomplished in scholarship. It’s a pity he joined the army instead of taking the Keju exams. Otherwise, our lane might have been renamed Four Jidi Lane!”
The state valued scholars over warriors; even officials of the same rank, military officers were considered half a step lower than civil officials. In the eyes of the common people, making a living in the military naturally couldn’t compare to becoming a well-paid official after passing the Keju exams.
Moreover, Ruan’s eldest brother hadn’t yet risen to prominence—he was still only a low-ranking military officer.
While Xu Chenger mimicked her elders’ sighs and shakes of the head, she was unexpectedly flicked on the forehead. Xu Chenger covered her head and looked up angrily, only to see her grandfather. She was both furious and helpless, trembling with annoyance, and shouted, “Grandfather!”
Xu’s grandfather fit the stereotypical image of a physician among common folk: grayish-white beard, lean build, but his breathing seemed different from ordinary people, carrying a certain spirited vigor that made anyone who saw him recognize him as an energetic elder.
His eyes were gentle and calm, yet being stared at by him for too long could make one uneasy, as if no secret could be hidden—without you saying anything, he could perceive it all.
This was an old man somewhat similar to Grandma.
Even though their appearances were completely different, Yuan Niang had this feeling.
Yet the next moment, this seemingly wise old man, taking advantage of Xu Chenger’s anger and distraction, snatched away the fried dough sticks and oil cakes placed before her.
And he ate them heartily right in front of her, nodding as he chewed, his beard under his chin bouncing up and down. “Hmm, good, good. This skill isn’t worse than that of Zheng’s Oil Cake Shop at Desheng Bridge. Especially this one—though the oil cakes are also well-made, they aren’t as novel as this. What’s this thing called, Miss Chen?”
“Fried dough sticks!” Suddenly asked, Yuan Niang was first startled, then quickly announced the name in a clear, bright voice.
After a slight hesitation, she politely gave a brief introduction, speaking fluently, “The method is somewhat similar to sanzi. It was improvised by my younger brother while he was reciting texts early in the morning, watching Grandma make oil cakes. Since it’s shaped like a strip and cooked in the same pot as oil cakes, we simply called it fried dough sticks.”
Xu’s grandfather stroked his goat beard, nodding approvingly. “That’s a good name, simple and easy to understand. If your family opens an oil cake shop, having such a novel snack, the business surely won’t be bad.”
“Thank you for your auspicious words!” Yuan Niang smiled joyfully, her face beaming. She was naturally lovely, exactly the kind of junior that elders most favor.
Looking closely, it turned out that Xu Chenger’s grandfather had not only finished eating the fried dough sticks and pancakes in his hands while talking, but had even stealthily lifted the jar containing soy milk until it was half empty.
Caught unexpectedly, Xu Chenger’s grandfather chuckled without embarrassment, openly carrying the jar away and lying down on the recliner in the courtyard, leisurely pouring his brewed tea into the soy milk jar.
Yuan Niang didn’t understand this way of eating and quietly leaned over to ask Xu Chenger.
Xu Chenger couldn’t explain clearly either, only saying that older generations loved drinking it this way, and her grandfather especially enjoyed it. The tea mixed with soy milk filled the jar, and he could drink it all.
However, the tea was brewed from the cheapest loose tea, so mixing it with soy milk wasn’t regrettable. Yet, Xu Chenger’s grandfather overheard this. He closed his eyes savoring the drink, slowly saying, “You really lack taste, don’t mislead other children. Your grandfather isn’t destined for wealth, otherwise, soy milk mixed with tea brewed from Dragon-Phoenix Cake Tea would be the best—such a delightful flavor!”
As he spoke, he smacked his lips, seemingly reminiscing.
Xu Chenger deeply admired her grandfather, whether for his knowledge and insights or his medical skills and compassion, but sometimes he was a bit mischievous, seeming unreliable.
Usually, she chose to ignore it directly.
Thus, she took Yuan Niang’s hand and went out to play.
When alone, their conversation naturally shifted back to the earlier topic of cats.
Yuan Niang was no longer afraid now. She decided to pick a good time to go to the Ruan family to compensate for the fish. As for the black-and-white Little Tabby Cat running into her home, she hadn’t dragged it in herself, so it couldn’t be blamed on her.
Therefore, Yuan Niang calmly remarked, “Actually, it’s good that the Ruan family keeps that Little Tabby Cat. Bianjing is getting colder, and there will be snow in winter. With someone adopting it, the cat won’t freeze to death.”
Xu Chenger also felt sympathetic, sighing along, “But there are still many Li Mao wandering outside.”
Seeing the atmosphere somewhat gloomy, feeling she had brought up too heavy a topic, Yuan Niang quickly changed the subject, “Right! Why does your grandfather call you Wu Jie’er?”
Mentioning this, Xu Chenger became much more energetic, enthusiastically saying, “Everyone had a humble nickname as a child. My grandfather gave me Wu Jie’er. Wu means wild grass, lowly and tiny, yet endlessly thriving. I was often sick as a child, so my grandfather hoped I would be as easy to raise as wild grass.”
“Yuan Niang, what about you?” Xu Chenger curiously asked back, “What nickname do your family call you?”
Yuan Niang scratched her head, somewhat embarrassed, saying, “Perhaps I was easier to raise as a child, so my family didn’t give me a humble nickname. They just called me Da Jie’er, Da Jie’er. When I got older, they named me Yuan Niang. These two essentially mean the same thing, so I guess I don’t have a nickname.”
“But!” Yuan Niang’s tone shifted, blinking her eyes, somewhat deliberately teasing. “My brother’s name has a story behind it.”
“He was born with a difficult delivery, just as Kuocang Zhenjun’s golden statue procession passed by. My Grandma knelt and prayed before the house, and my brother was safely born. Later, Grandma went to Kuocang Zhenjun’s temple to fulfill her vow and ask for a divination. The temple’s Daoist priest said Zhenjun bestowed the name, so he was named Kuocang.”
Xu Chenger listened intently, both astonished and admiring. “Heaven above, it’s fortunate Kuocang Zhenjun protected you. Perhaps your brother will achieve great success. When I go to Wazi to listen to storytelling, most of those princes, generals, and ministers have prophecies or experiences related to deities. The twists and turns of your brother’s birth are just like that.”
Anyone hearing such words would be delighted, and Yuan Niang naturally couldn’t be exempt. However, after tilting her head and pondering for a moment, she still said, “Being able to become a prince, general, or minister would certainly be good. If not, that’s also fine—as long he remains safe and sound. Besides, the life we have now is something we couldn’t even dream of before.”
“Haha, I’m not afraid you’ll laugh at me for saying this—sometimes I even fear I’m dreaming right now, and with a kick of my legs, I’ll wake up.”
Yuan Niang laughed heartily, seeming unconcerned.
But in her heart, she thought: I hope this must, must, must be real.
So Grandma wouldn’t have to farm all day, Mother could rest and recuperate while taking medicine, and Brother could study.
Of course, she could also eat lots and lots of delicious food!
Living like this, she was very content!
Just wondering how Tao Niang and the others far away were doing, whether Sanniang’s wedding banquet had already been held, and whether her husband treated her well?
If any of them could read, that would be good.
Yuan Niang sighed deeply, but without any sorrowful expression—instead, it was the uniquely bright, innocent look of vexation belonging to youth.
But she couldn’t remain vexed for long, because as she sat on the steps, a window plank from the shop behind her was suddenly lifted. Yuan Niang, turning in surprise to look, just met Grandma’s half-revealed face in the gap.
Yuan Niang blinked her eyes… indeed, it was Grandma.
Grandma…
Blinking wasn’t happening, but the stern, stiff face was constant.
Yuan Niang inwardly thought: This is bad.
Sure enough, the next moment, Granny Wang began a series of interrogations. “Chen Yuanniang, what are you doing sitting on the ground? Aren’t you afraid of getting dirty? A fine young lady like you, jumping around all day—how long have I been calling you to deliver things?”
Yuan Niang sheepishly stood up, turning to pat the dust off her skirt. After patting enough, she revealed a row of white pearly teeth, flattering, “Grandma, it’s not dirty anymore!”
Just then, Wan Guan removed the other window plank as well, revealing Granny Wang’s complete appearance and figure—a slightly thick waist, holding a broom with arms akimbo, her gaze carrying a hint of menace even without speaking. “Hmph!”
This was Granny Wang’s first appearance on this street, in this shop—her voice so loud it left a deep impression.
Yuan Niang forced a smile on her face, expression helpless. Because of her beauty, what would appear awkward on others became innocent and flawless on her, easily bewitching people.
They might even think: How pitiful she is—have I been too harsh?
No matter whom she encountered, based solely on appearance, they would feel pity for her.
But unfortunately, the one before her was Granny Wang, who had raised Yuan Niang from childhood and knew all her tricks clearly. Seeing this, Granny Wang only snorted coldly, showing no mercy toward the fair maiden. “Playing pitiful won’t work.”
Yuan Niang pouted, feeling so wronged she could almost hang an oil pot, she became dejected and lowered her head, honestly admitting fault. “I know, I know. Next time I won’t casually sit on the steps—I can’t disgrace our Grandma!”
By the end, she still couldn’t resist her nature, her tone rising playfully, accustomed to acting cute with Grandma.
Granny Wang was exceptionally busy today and couldn’t be bothered to argue with Yuan Niang. Although tidying up the shop could be left to Wan Guan, running a food stall required both finding someone to “pay tribute” and purchasing all the necessary kitchenware. After all, they couldn’t just make do with the pot from home while doing business here, could she?
Granny Wang said irritably, “Alright, alright, hurry home. There’s sweet bean soup simmering on the stove. Honestly, I searched for you half the day, and if it gets cold, it won’t taste good.”
Yuan Niang’s eyes immediately lit up, and she pulled Xu Chenger along, ready to go inside and have some soup. Yuan Niang thought it was perfect timing—today was cold, and Cheng’er’s hands felt icy to the touch. A bowl of steaming hot sweet bean soup would surely warm them up.
To make it easier for Yuan Niang to enter, Granny Wang deliberately opened the door. Seeing Xu Chenger, she softened her tone, afraid the girl might misunderstand, and tried to smooth things over. She said warmly, “Chenger, I was just scolding Yuan Niang earlier, not you. You’re generous and steady—everyone in the alley praises you.”
It turned out that Granny Wang and Chen Yuanniang were indeed blood-related grandmother and granddaughter, both inherently skilled at giving compliments and well-versed in human relations.
Xu Chenger blushed from the praise and could only repeatedly say, “You flatter me too much.”
Xu Chenger and Yuan Niang went inside and lifted the entire jar of sweet bean soup, which had been kept warm by placing it in the pot, and shared it. There were just over two bowls left, enough for three servings.
After drinking it, their bodies indeed felt warm and cozy.
It was just that the sweet bean soup wasn’t particularly delicious. Yuan Niang felt her palate had been spoiled during her short time in Bianjing.
She could actually say that a sweet, syrupy soup wasn’t tasty!
But it truly was mediocre—just the flavor of boiled black beans. Perhaps she didn’t much care for black beans, but with licorice added, it had a sweet taste and wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Yuan Niang found herself craving Ke Shui, especially the kind made with lychee paste steeped in water. Its sweet, sour, and spicy flavor made one shiver all over, instantly invigorating.
She hadn’t expected to drink it the very next day.
Because Granny Wang took advantage of Xiangguo Temple’s open day to buy all the necessary kitchenware for the shop. In total, it cost a hefty seven or eight guan—anything related to iron was never cheap.
Yuan Niang immediately volunteered, speaking so sweetly that she managed to convince Granny Wang to take her along.
As a reward for her diligent and self-aware granddaughter, was it too much to ask for a bowl of Ke Shui?
Or to buy a pack of preserved fruit?
Or to get a pound of sweet oranges?
Or to eat an oil cake made by someone else?
Well, yes, that was too much.
Under Granny Wang’s sharp glare, Yuan Niang decided to turn over a new leaf, behave properly, and remain obedient until they returned home.
But today was still a bountiful and joyful day!
Carrying her few small paper packages and some of the kitchenware Grandma had bought, she felt so happy she almost wanted to hum a tune. Unfortunately, she didn’t know any songs, which was truly a pity.
If given the chance, she really wanted to go with Xu Chenger to the Goulan and Wazi to see what they were like. Cheng’er said there was everything there—Zaju, folk songs, Kui Lei performances, storytelling, and various other entertainments. Some were even invited to perform in the palace and would later display a “Performed Before the Emperor” sign, making them easy to recognize.
But the appeal of the Wazi wasn’t limited to performances. There were also food and drink stalls, clothing and jewelry shops, and, most indispensably, fortune-tellers and diviners.
Xu Chenger mentioned that there was a newly arrived Zhang Shushi at Zhouxi Wazi, who was said to be very accurate in fortune-telling, charging only one hundred copper coins per reading. Compared to those diviners who had gained fame and specialized in reading fortunes for nobles, charging hundreds or even thousands of guan per reading, one hundred copper coins was indeed cheap.
She was somewhat tempted by the idea.
However, her small money pouch contained only thirty-eight copper coins in total. Saving up one hundred coins would likely take a long time, and spending such a long-saved sum all at once just for a fortune-telling session—even if the reading turned out to be excellent—might leave her feeling so distressed that she couldn’t sleep at night.
It was truly a dilemma.
But she didn’t dwell on it for long, because after returning home, Grandma took out the new Zao utensils and began showcasing her culinary skills, preparing many delicious dishes.
Since these were meant to be sold to customers, they naturally had to be delicious from the start. It wouldn’t do to stop making them only after customers complained about the taste—that would harm their reputation.
Regardless of the reason, Yuan Niang thoroughly enjoyed the feast.
Most of the dishes were things she had never tasted before.
Especially the cured meat!
Good heavens, it was the most delicious meat she had ever eaten!
As for the meat, it was just ordinary pork. This dish actually works best with mutton, but Grandma thought mutton was too expensive, so when blanching the pork, she added a bit of ginger, scallions, and wine to remove the gamy smell. The key was the delicious sauce made afterward—a bowl of good vinegar, four qian of salt, and Sichuan peppercorns fried in oil until fragrant, resulting in a flavor that was both sour and numbing, with a lingering aroma of spices like cardamom.
Not to mention dipping meat in it—even dipping raw vegetables tasted wonderful.
It was especially good with rice. As the weather grew colder, after eating it, your tongue would tingle, your blood would surge, and your face would flush with warmth.
“We must sell this in winter!” Yuan Niang said. “It’s too delicious!”
And the method was simple too.
Madam Cen and Chen Kuo Cang beside her nodded in agreement, fully approving.
Granny Wang also made a few other dishes for them to try.
Among them, the most controversial was the wine-marinated chicken. After marinating, it was taken out of the fermented rice grains, placed on a bamboo strainer, and repeatedly doused with boiling water from the iron pot until the chicken steamed hot and the meat jelly turned into a glistening broth.
Take a bite, and first you’d be met with a mouthful of wine fragrance, followed by the tender, non-greasy texture of the chicken.
Yuan Niang showed great fondness for this dish, while Chen Kuo Cang found it average, and Madam Cen disliked it intensely, as she never touched alcohol and was quite averse to it.
As for Granny Wang, since she made it, naturally it was something she enjoyed eating herself.
This made it difficult to judge.
Moreover…
Yuan Niang’s stomach lacked richness, so she tended to like anything she ate. At least, Granny Wang had never seen anything Yuan Niang didn’t enjoy. Sometimes she felt this child was clever and full of little tricks, hard to manage; other times, she felt she was truly a gift from heaven—easy to raise and considerate, making her heart melt.
In the end, the wine-marinated chicken was reluctantly listed as a candidate.
After several days of such efforts, the entire house was filled with the aromas of various foods, and Granny Wang finally settled on a rough menu.
First, there were no overly luxurious or difficult-to-make dishes. Second, the focus was on fried dough-based snacks—these required little skill, just a good grasp of heat control.
Due to the size of the shopfront, Granny Wang planned to open an oil cake shop rather than a Hubing shop.
Oil cake shops typically sold fewer items and were smaller, while Hubing shops sold a wide variety, and their premises could be as large as those of a Zhengdian.
Finally, they needed to spread the word that Granny Wang’s Oil Cake Shop would soon open.
To also test whether the prepared dishes suited everyone’s tastes, Granny Wang simply distributed the dishes she had made to a few neighbors. Whether the news would spread or not was secondary; after all, these neighbors had offered hot tea and food when they moved in, showing kindness, so it was only right to reciprocate.
Naturally, such errands fell to the children.
Yuan Niang was assigned a few neighbors, and Chen Kuo Cang, who happened to be on a break from school, was also given a few, though his assigned neighbors required a bit more walking.
Yuan Niang’s first stop was Xu Chenger’s home. So, besides a jar of honey wine brewed by Xu Chenger’s grandfather, she was also accompanied by Xu Chenger. The authorities did not allow roadside inns to brew their own alcohol, but ordinary households were not restricted from brewing a little for personal consumption. However, they often had to make their own yeast, so the results were usually not great.
Nevertheless, Xu Chenger boasted proudly of her grandfather’s skill.
Xu Chenger’s grandfather was a physician who had close ties with Taoist priests, from whom he learned the recipe for brewing honey wine. The honey wine he brewed was truly exceptional and quite famous in the nearby alleys.
Her words made Yuan Niang want to taste it too, after all, the so-called honey wine was brewed with white sand honey. Yuan Niang had drunk white sand honey back in the village, mixed with water it was sweet and delightful, its sweetness no less than adding sugar to water.
But in the end, she didn’t dare. She was afraid Grandma would scold her—a young girl sneaking drinks of the family’s wine, no matter how you looked at it, would surely touch a nerve with Grandma.
The next stop was to deliver to the Dou family.
This was also why Xu Chenger had come along. Xu Chenger was very familiar with the Dou family, and it was a good opportunity to deliver the incense burner she had bought last time to Sister Dou. Still affected by accidentally overhearing the conversation between Brother Dou and his wife last time, Xu Chenger was always afraid she wouldn’t be able to hide her expression well and might reveal something. Now, going with Yuan Niang, there was an extra person to draw attention.
Yuan Niang carried a three-tiered food box. Each time they visited a neighbor, they had to take the empty box back and refill it with three plates.
The first plate was fried items, such as oil cakes, pieces of fried dough sticks, and egg and meat pancakes.
This egg and meat pancake was also something Chen Kuocang had come up with. Somehow, he had Grandma make a pan with grooves. First, he poured batter to fry into shape, then fried an egg into a round pancake, sprinkled cured meat crumbs onto the egg, and after everything was done, sandwiched the egg pancake between two batter cakes, stuffing some pickled Song vegetable inside.
It looked oddly shaped—neither quite like a Hubing nor a steamed bun—but tasted wonderful. The batter crust was fried golden and crispy, the egg carried a fragrant aroma from frying compared to plain boiling, the meat crumbs added complexity and chewiness, and the sourness of the pickled Song vegetable balanced the greasiness of the frying, leaving a refreshingly sour and salty aftertaste that lingered pleasantly in the mouth.
The second plate contained items like cured meat that they had previously found good, while the third plate held things like fermented rice grain chicken, which they felt were acceptable but not outstanding.
These items, often meat or fried, would make anyone think they were expensive, but that wasn’t actually the case. Each piece was cut very small, just half a bite’s worth, but arranged beautifully on the plate, making it seem like more. These three plates actually cost only a little over twenty wen.
They maintained both face and substance without spending too much money.
No wonder Granny Wang was known for being shrewd and calculating.
Of course, the types of food were the same, but for those they were closer to or who had sent more expensive gifts that day, the portions on the plates would be slightly larger.
These were the subtle touches that couldn’t be faulted.
When Yuan Niang and Xu Chenger arrived at the Dou family, they happened to run into guests—what a coincidence.
Standing in the courtyard were three young men, the oldest around fifteen or sixteen, the youngest eleven or twelve, all with decent features and similar thin eyes, making it easy to guess they were related.
And Sister-in-law Dou also had the same thin eyelids.
When they arrived, the group was chatting animatedly. Since both sides were young and from common backgrounds, it wasn’t as if they couldn’t even exchange glances. They nodded to each other but didn’t speak.
Sister-in-law Dou intended to take the two young ladies to her sister-in-law’s room first. As they passed by, the group continued their conversation, talking about someone very impressive, their tones intense.
Faintly, it was…
Kuocang?
Xu Chenger looked puzzled and leaned close to Yuan Niang, whispering, “Isn’t your younger brother named Kuocang?”
Her voice was soft and shouldn’t have been heard, but whether it was the wind blowing just right or that person having particularly sharp ears, the middle one, a thirteen or fourteen-year-old boy who seemed the most taciturn, suddenly turned his gaze toward them.
“Are you the sister of Chen Kuocang, the prodigy from Zhangyu Academy?”
Prodigy?
Yuan Niang was puzzled, but she refused to show it on her face, merely feigning calmness as she nodded. “Yes, what is it?”