The second year of the Shangyuan era, winter snow.
A carriage of elegant design traveled along the road.
However, a chicken coop was perched at the front, and as the wind whipped the carriage curtains, one could even see a fat sheep standing right by the door.
“That wretch abandoned his wife and daughter back then, running away faster than anyone. Now, look at him—actually choosing such a good marriage for you. Assistant Minister of the Dali Temple, a high-ranking official of the upper fourth rank, even higher than his own position. Could it be that his conscience has finally caught up with him, and he wants to compensate you?”
As they traveled, Shen Qingwan watched the increasingly prosperous scenery outside the curtains, her expression unable to hide her excitement.
Mother and daughter had suffered in the countryside for many years; finally, it was time to enjoy some good fortune.
But when she turned around, she saw her daughter’s indifferent expression. Lacking any of the joy that should come with impending wealth, her heart tightened.
A’He had been a well-behaved child since she was small, never causing her a moment’s worry.
Shen Qingwan bit her lip. “A’He, although we weren’t rich in the countryside, we never lacked for food or clothing. We were free and easy, with no one to restrain us. How about… how about we don’t go…”
Shen Fenghuo half-closed her eyes. “Wanniang, lean over a bit more and let me sleep for a while.”
Shen Qingwan did as she asked, leveling the girl’s head onto her lap and tucking her cloak around her.
Leaning into the bend of her knees, Shen Fenghuo held the white rabbit, Xuetuan, in her arms and said unhurriedly, “You get tired from dancing. The road home from the county seat is dark.”
“I’m not tired, and it’s not dark.”
“Then don’t always ask me to rub your waist at night.”
“…Unfilial child.”
Since the age of six, other memories had gradually surfaced in Shen Fenghuo’s mind, increasing in number as she grew older.
Iron blocks that ran faster than carriages, buildings that towered dozens of meters high, glowing boards… along with these came her increasingly exquisite culinary skills.
Shen Qingwan was her adoptive mother, a skilled dancer who often went to the county’s music bureaus to earn some money.
However, her cooking was as tasteless as chewing wax. Even when she tried her best to make dishes with meat and vegetables, Shen Fenghuo remained a scrawny thing with yellowing hair.
Fortunately, after the age of six, the household meals were handled by Shen Fenghuo standing on a stool with a spatula in hand. She no longer had to let Wanniang blow up the stove and waste ingredients, and she gradually grew taller.
By the time she was in her teens, she would take on banquet jobs or funeral meals in the surrounding villages to supplement the family income.
But the county seat was far from home; it took Wanniang two hours to travel to and from the music bureau. Sometimes, if a customer paid for a few extra dances, she wouldn’t return until the hour of the Pig.
The road was long and dark. Especially on a summer night this year, a rogue had followed Wanniang the whole way, intending to do her harm.
If Shen Fenghuo and an older brother from the neighboring house hadn’t often waited for her at the village entrance to chase the rogue away, the consequences would have been unthinkable.
She had long wanted to save enough money to take Wanniang away, ideally to buy a small house in the county seat.
In short, she wanted them to be safe and sound.
So, when faced with the olive branch thrown by this biological father she had never met, she was tempted.
It was a place she had never imagined.
Chang’an.
The carriage had traveled through the night. The heavy snow was still falling, making the journey difficult.
As the first light of dawn broke, the world outside the curtains became noisy and bustling.
Shen Fenghuo had grown up in the countryside. Though she occasionally followed Shen Qingwan to the county market, she had never seen such a grand and expansive sight.
After entering the city through Mingde Men, the carriage traveled along Zhuque Dajie. Even on a snowy day, it was incredibly lively.
After traveling for a while, they passed Xi Shi. On both sides, shops stood in rows, their banners fluttering in the wind.
“Hot Hu Ma Bing! Fresh from the oven, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside!”
Hot ginger drinks sprinkled with cassia seeds, steamed buns, and sugar cakes—the aroma wafted out from the steamers.
The soy-braised trotters from Feng Er Jia were stewed until tender and crisp, perfect with wine. Glistening cured chickens and ducks hung beside Li Ji Shisi, ideal for steaming together with buns.
Merchants from the Western Regions sold Bosi Zao, and deep-eyed men in Hu clothing stood by their camels selling roasted mutton.
Street vendors carrying poles had thick cloths covering their bamboo baskets; when lifted, steaming mutton soup was revealed, allowing one to enjoy a bowl of soup noodles anytime, anywhere.
“Mutton soup noodles for sale! The bone broth has been simmered for a day and a night, sprinkled with coriander—come have a bowl!”
Pedestrians flowed in an endless stream, the white snow reflecting off the red buildings. It was truly the prosperous age of Chang’an.
“Young lady, once we enter the Fang, it will be another fifteen minutes before we reach Shen Fu.”
Seeing Shen Fenghuo lift the curtain to look out, Zhang Momo reminded her.
Shen Fenghuo’s gaze swept across the steaming eateries at the street corner, and she replied with a smile, “Zhang Momo, Wanniang has been talking about the Hu Ma Bing from Fuxing Fang for a long time. I want to buy a few for her to take back; it won’t take but a moment.”
Zhang Momo had been the head servant for Official Shen, the Editorial Assistant of Chang’an, for over ten years and had never suffered much.
Now, having been sent to the countryside to fetch the master’s suddenly-reappearing daughter, she was both cold and hungry from the journey.
Tempted by the drifting aromas herself, she replied, “Very well, old servant will follow you. Go and return quickly; don’t let the master wait.”
The two stepped off the carriage and walked toward the eatery.
The Hu Ma Bing business was good; even minor officials in green robes were lined up.
Shen Fenghuo asked the shopkeeper to weigh out several Hu Ma Bing. As she tucked the oil-paper-wrapped cakes into her coat, she caught sight of one of the officials taking a large bite of his cake and sighing indistinctly.
“Fortunately, the Assistant Minister is compassionate and allowed us to come out for food during our rotation. Otherwise, if I had to eat the food at the Dali Temple every day, I fear I would die young despite my youth.”
Another official frowned in agreement. “Isn’t that the right of it? Take this morning’s Qing Qin Zheng Lao—the cheese was already sour, yet they still threw salt on it. The celery was too old to chew. Mixed together, it was sour and astringent. I forced down two bites and nearly threw up.”
“Sour cheese is considered good.”
The official took a fierce bite of his Hu Ma Bing. “The Chi Zhi Zhu Kui from the day before yesterday was truly malicious. Too much black bean sauce made it bitter, the mallow was boiled into mush, and there was some unknown fishy smell mixed in. I heard the head cook is a distant relative of the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue. Relying on his connections, he’s too lazy to refine his skills; he just tosses the ingredients into the pot and calls it a day. I thought getting a post at the Dali Temple was a good job, but I didn’t expect it would cost me my life.”
They went back and forth, criticizing the food in the Dali Temple canteen until it was worthless, their hearts full of bitterness.
“Even the Assistant Minister is suffering. Last time he took a sip of the Yansui Zhou, he actually put down his chopsticks with a frown. Since then, he hasn’t really eaten in the canteen. I just saw him heading out.”
“Young lady.”
Zhang Momo urged her, having already finished two cakes herself and drunk a large pot of hot tea from the shopkeeper.
Shen Fenghuo snapped out of it and smiled. “Coming.”
When she returned to the carriage, her rabbit was lying obediently on the floorboards, its ears twitching as it tried to burrow through the curtains.
“How did Xuetuan get out here?”
As she stepped forward to pick up Xuetuan, she caught a glimpse of a figure in crimson turning a corner at the end of the street.
The person was very tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, quickly disappearing into the swirling snow.
“A’He,” Shen Qingwan said excitedly. “Xuetuan’s cage wasn’t closed properly, and it slipped out in a blink. It was that gentleman who just brought Xuetuan back.”
Shen Fenghuo handed over the Hu Ma Bing wrapped in oil paper. “Eat quickly, it’s still hot.”
Shen Qingwan took the Hu Ma Bing but didn’t move, grabbing her arm excitedly. “That gentleman was truly handsome!”
“Just eat your cake. How handsome could he be?”
Shen Fenghuo chuckled and climbed back into the carriage.
Shen Qingwan took a bite of the cake; the crust was crisp and the sesame fragrant.
The fat from the minced mutton inside had been roasted into the dough; the meat fragrance was rich yet not at all greasy.
She replied contentedly, “Polite and refined, as gentle as jade.”
Listening to Wanniang’s praise, Shen Fenghuo took a bite of a Hu Ma Bing, her eyes curving into crescents.
As expected, it was crisp and delicious, living up to its reputation.
In the lonely, cold wind, it truly comforted the heart and stomach.
The carriage traveled a while longer before stopping in front of a large vermilion gate.
“Young lady, we have arrived at Shen Fu.”
Zhang Momo was the first to get down, turning to assist Shen Fenghuo.
The entrance to Shen Fu was not overly ostentatious. Two stone lions stood beside the vermilion gates, and above them hung a black-lacquered plaque with the words “Shen Fu” written in a vigorous, powerful hand.
Shen Fenghuo held Xuetuan, while Shen Qingwan directed the driver to unload their belongings.
The plump sheep was led down bleating, and several reed-flower chickens flapped their wings and clucked in their bamboo coops. Along with the cloth bundles and bamboo baskets they had brought, a small scene of the countryside was piled up before the gates of Shen Fu.
The two servants on duty at the gate, who had been standing with their hands down, gaped at the sight.
The page boy on the left quietly tugged his companion’s sleeve. “My heavens, they even brought a sheep and chickens? Did they move their whole country house here?”
Another old maidservant looked the two of them up and down. “They look like they’re dressed so plainly. Bringing those live animals through the door is just too… unseemly.”
Seeing this, Zhang Momo stepped forward and scolded them, “What are you staring at? Hurry up and lend a hand! These are things brought by the Young Lady; handle them with care!”
The servants dared not say more and hurried forward to take the reins and bamboo coops, though they couldn’t help but steal glances at Shen Fenghuo and Shen Qingwan as they moved the items.
The two followed Zhang Momo inside. On either side of the moon gate in the front courtyard were several red plum trees, their branches weighed down by snow, a faint fragrance drifting through the air.
After passing through two corridors, they reached the front hall.
Zhang Momo said softly, “Young lady, the master is waiting inside.”
Shen Qingwan followed Zhang Momo to look after the chickens and sheep, while Shen Fenghuo entered the room alone. A wave of warmth met her.
Silver-thread charcoal burned in the hall, the flames bright and smokeless, with a light scent of sandalwood.
In the center of the main hall stood a red sandalwood table with carved chairs on either side. Several landscape paintings and calligraphy scrolls hung on the walls—all the works of literati.
Shen Cen sat in one of the carved chairs.
He wore a stone-blue brocade robe, his face full of composure. Although he was nearly forty, one could still see from his features that he had been very handsome in his youth.
He held a book in his hand, which he raised as Shen Fenghuo entered. After his gaze lingered on her face for a moment, he actually became dazed.
Dark hair lightly pinned, a red plum at her temple.
She wore a green skirt with a brown, double-breasted padded cotton cloak over it. Her attire was plain, but that face was exceptionally striking, with clear eyes and cheeks as white as snow.
She was truly the image of her.
“Qingniang…”
A hint of redness gradually appeared in Shen Cen’s eyes.
He seemed to be caught in a memory. After a long moment, he wiped the corners of his eyes and repeated in a low voice, “Qingniang.”
Xuetuan moved slightly in Shen Fenghuo’s arms, and she frowned, snapping back to reality.
“Official Shen, my name is Shen Fenghuo.”
The title “Official Shen” was polite yet distant, waking Shen Cen from his reverie.
He put down his book and said in a heavy voice, “You should call me Father.”
Shen Cen sat upright in the seat of honor and did not rise. The melancholy brought by her resemblance to Qingniang quickly faded.
“I imagine Zhang Momo has told you everything. Since you are of the Shen bloodline, you should share the family’s burdens. I have found a good marriage for you.”
Seeing that Shen Fenghuo did not speak, he continued in a tone that felt like a charitable gift, “I will have you recorded under your legal mother’s name, giving you the legitimate status of a daughter of Shen Fu to be married off. This way, you will have standing in the Assistant Minister’s manor and won’t have to suffer in the countryside anymore.”
“Yes.”
Shen Fenghuo lowered her eyes.
“Father.”