“This iron wok is heavy and prone to rusting. Cleaning it once wastes so much plant ash—I really don’t know what you see in it.”
Seeing Shen Fenghuo rendering fat in that iron wok, Chen Yang sneered coldly, “Tang Dynasty cuisine should be steamed, boiled, or roasted to highlight the natural flavors of the ingredients.”
These few iron woks at Dali Temple had been requested by that kitchen servant who didn’t know his place.
That man was from Lingnan and spent all day telling them how to stir-fry sea fish and oysters, saying that quick frying over high heat brought out the freshest taste. The two of them clashed over their cooking methods and eventually came to blows.
Thinking about it now, Chen Yang still felt a pang for his two lost teeth.
After that kitchen servant left, these iron woks had become mere decorations, rarely used.
Shen Fenghuo, however, quite enjoyed using the iron wok.
She gripped the long handle, gently turning the pork cubes to avoid splattering oil. The fire beneath burned fiercely, and the pork cubes seeped out oil in the wok, shrinking into light brown lard cracklings that floated and swayed gently on the golden fat.
Shen Fenghuo placed a bamboo sieve over an oil jar and lifted the iron wok with both hands. The wok was indeed heavy—she had to use the strength of her waist.
Clear oil slowly flowed through the sieve holes into a large bowl. After filtering, the lard cracklings were poured into a basin, sprinkled with a pinch of salt, releasing an enticing aroma.
The fire in the stove gradually faded from fierce flames to glowing embers. For this large half-side of pork, Shen Fenghuo had tended the iron wok for nearly two hours.
Still, tending the stove in winter was quite warm. While waiting for the oil, she could sit down, have a few sips of tea, and rest.
The pork in the wok yielded several full jars of oil, and the remaining lard cracklings piled up into a large, bulging basin.
Shen Fenghuo scooped half a bowl of lard cracklings and sprinkled a small pinch of cumin. The powder scattered over the warm cracklings, instantly intensifying the spicy aroma.
She picked up a piece and put it in her mouth. The crackling was crispy on the outside and tender inside, its rich oiliness bursting between her teeth. The slight spiciness of the cumin perfectly balanced the greasiness, becoming more fragrant with each chew.
“Little sister, you’ve finished all the work—why are you still here?”
Wu Yu glanced at the sweat on Shen Fenghuo’s temple. “Aren’t you tired? You’ve been by the stove fire for half the day. Take a break; letting the oil cool won’t hurt.”
Shen Fenghuo nodded. “It’s fine.”
While waiting for the oil to solidify, Shen Fenghuo and Wu Yu carried their bowls together to the Dining Hall to rest.
She placed the bowl of cumin-sprinkled lard cracklings on the wooden table. “Brother Yu, want to try some?”
Wu Yu sniffed, picked up a piece of crackling, chewed it twice, and smacked his lips. “Oh, it’s cumin. Little sister, you’re really generous—this stuff is quite expensive.”
“I only used a tiny bit.”
Shen Fenghuo smiled and took another piece. “Just for a taste of something new.”
The two sipped tea and chewed on the cracklings, finding them more delicious with each bite, and their conversation grew livelier.
Wu Yu took a sip of tea dregs and asked, “Speaking of which, little sister, you should be careful coming and going from duty these days… Let me tell you something, but don’t be scared.”
“What is it?”
“Do you know about the recent rumors spreading like wildfire in Chang’an about the cat demon eating people?”
Wu Yu lowered his voice. “It’s the case Young Minister Lu went to investigate this morning.”
“Cat demon eating people?”
Shen Fenghuo was taken aback. “I haven’t heard of it. What’s going on?”
“You really don’t know?”
Wu Yu was somewhat surprised. “The rumors have been circulating for almost half a month. They say that every night, a cat demon emerges to cause trouble, specifically targeting people walking alone. It first drains their blood, then throws them into the canals to drown. The deaths are terrifying!”
“These rumors… are they reliable?”
Wu Yu chewed on the lard cracklings and continued, "How is it unreliable? I heard them say that giant cat appears, looking bigger than a bear."
He turned to Shen Fenghuo with a serious expression, "Sister, you should leave work early, and make sure to close your doors and windows tightly at night. It's best to have a man with you."
Shen Fenghuo replied, "Mm, I have a lord at home."
"Ah?"
Wu Yu's eyes widened, the lard cracklings in his mouth nearly falling out, "You're actually married? You look so young, I didn't notice."
Shen Fenghuo didn't explain further, picking up a piece of lard crackling to chew slowly.
"That's good then, with a lord around, it's always more reassuring."
Wu Yu breathed a sigh of relief and was about to continue with rumors about the cat demon when footsteps sounded at the entrance of the Dining Hall.
"Lord Di!"
Seeing the newcomer, Wu Yu quickly stood up, bowed respectfully, then turned and tugged at Shen Fenghuo's sleeve, "Sister, this is our Dali Temple's Di Sicheng. Hurry and greet Lord Di."
"No need for formalities."
Shen Fenghuo had been busy in the back kitchen earlier with rendering oil and hadn't seen Di Sicheng, so this was her first glimpse of him.
He was very thin, his official robe hanging loosely on his frame as if a gust of wind could blow him over.
For some reason, though Shen Fenghuo had never seen him before, deep in her memory she felt he should be sturdier, more spirited.
Perhaps her gaze was too direct, as Di Sicheng asked lightly, "Does Lady Shen have something to say?"
"No, nothing. It's just that Lord Di… looks very thin."
Shen Fenghuo herself was quite puzzled—where did her memory of Lord Di come from?
Wu Yu was startled and quickly smoothed things over, "Lord Di, my sister is straightforward. Please don't take offense."
But Di Sicheng didn't mind, instead stroking his beard and smiling, "It's fine. This official has always eaten little, naturally unable to gain weight."
Soon he looked at Wu Yu, "Just now I heard you speaking of the cat demon?"
Wu Yu stammered, "Yes, yes, it's rumors from the streets…"
"There are no demons in this world."
Di Sicheng said sternly, "So-called cat demons are merely wicked people pretending to be ghosts and spirits to harm others, using rumors to cover their tracks. In the future, do not spread such things within Dali Temple."
Wu Yu quickly nodded and bowed.
Chen Yang, having washed the millet and started steaming it, wanted to drink some tea and rest a moment. Squinting his eyes, he saw Di Sicheng had come again.
He asked with a smile, "What would Lord Di like for the evening meal? Steamed lamb, cooked cheese curds, or roasted lamb—just give the order, my lord!"
"I tasted Lady Shen's scallion oil noodles at noon and found them quite delicious. For now, I'd still like something made by Lady Shen."
Chen Yang's mouth twitched, "This… Lord Di, Lady Shen's scallion oil noodles are indeed good, but one can't eat scallion oil noodles all day. Better to change to some more refined dishes."
Scallion oil noodles, scallion oil noodles—all he knows is scallion oil noodles from morning till night.
Di Sicheng ignored his words and asked Shen Fenghuo, "Besides scallion oil noodles, can Lady Shen make anything else today?"
Shen Fenghuo's heart leapt with joy as she smiled, "Of course!"
She truly wanted Lord Di to gain some weight.
"Then go make it."
Having received permission, Shen Fenghuo turned and headed straight for the back kitchen.
Adding fresh firewood to the stove, as the lard sizzled, Shen Fenghuo used chopped scallion whites to release a fresh fragrance, then scooped a large spoonful of golden lard cracklings. She washed and drained the thick, crisp Chinese cabbage, deliberately cutting it into square-inch pieces before tossing it all in.
Shen Fenghuo gripped the iron spatula, stir-frying as the Chinese cabbage tumbled in the wok, gradually softening before she added some hot water to let it simmer slowly.
She then prepared a dish of crab roe tofu, using salted egg yolk as a substitute.
Starting another wok, she scooped half a ladle of oil to heat, sprinkling in the minced salted egg yolk while stirring continuously. After adding water and bringing it to a boil, she gently slid in the tofu cubes, using a spoon to stir lightly, allowing the tofu to take on an enticing warm hue.
Before serving, she thickened the sauce with a thin slurry and added a few drops of sesame oil for flavor.
The clerks, drawn by the aroma, began streaming into the Dining Hall in small groups. From afar, someone shouted, "Smelling this fragrance, I bet it’s Lady Shen! I’m heading there first!"
A few gusts of wind swept by.
Not long after Shen Fenghuo had added the lard cracklings to simmer with the Chinese cabbage and prepared the crab roe tofu, the Dining Hall was already filled with people.
Seeing the dishes served on the table, the clerks grabbed their bowls and lined up to help themselves.
The lard cracklings simmered with Chinese cabbage glistened with oil, while the crab roe tofu was even more tempting—silky tofu mixed with golden broth, its aroma wafting everywhere.
Clerk Xiao ladled the lard cracklings and Chinese cabbage over his millet rice. By now, the cracklings and cabbage had stewed to a tender softness.
The broth seeped into the rice, the cracklings were crispy yet tender, and the cabbage was refreshingly sweet. Together with the millet rice, each bite was fragrant and satisfying.
Di Sicheng mixed the crab roe tofu with his millet rice using a spoon.
The tofu was as smooth as congealed fat, the broth golden and bright. Mixed into the millet rice, it blended seamlessly.
The rice became savory and enticing, melting warmly and slightly grainy in the mouth. For a moment, it was hard to tell whether it was the flavor of egg yolk or crab roe.
Di Sicheng chuckled in satisfaction.
Perhaps after joining the Dali Temple, he really would gain weight.
With these two dishes served, the Dining Hall was filled only with the clatter of bowls and chopsticks and murmurs of praise.
The clerks buried themselves in their meals—some devouring rice with the crab roe tofu, others picking out the cracklings, and still others favoring the sweet, tender cabbage stems.
"Chen Chu, we’re running out of rice! Steam some more millet rice!"
Chen Yang responded and turned toward the back kitchen.
He glanced at the iron wok by the stove.
Pork always had a lingering gamey smell if not prepared well. He used to think it couldn’t compare to the tenderness of lamb, but who would have thought that rendering it into lard cracklings and stewing it with vegetables would be so popular?
He quickly rinsed the rice, placed it in the steamer, and turned back to look at the remaining bowl of cracklings. Unable to resist, he picked up a piece and popped it into his mouth.
The texture was crispy, with a hint of saltiness—utterly delightful.
Chen Yang smacked his lips and ate half the bowl.
The back kitchen’s dishes were cleared swiftly. Wu Yu and the other two kitchen servants stared at the stack of empty porcelain bowls, feeling that washing dishes today was surprisingly easy—they had been scraped so clean.
Shen Fenghuo wiped down the stove, packed her satchel, and prepared to head home.
Outside the window, snow began to fall again, quickly dusting the ground with a thin layer. The snow didn’t seem heavy, but darkness fell fast. If she delayed, the city gates would close, and that would be troublesome.
Shen Fenghuo threw on her cloak and hurried out.
At the entrance of the Dali Temple, Lu Jin stood to the side.
His red official robe accentuated his jade-like complexion. He held an oil-paper umbrella, shielding himself from the swirling snow.
Shen Fenghuo instinctively halted her steps and softly called, "Young Minister Lu."
Lu Jin stepped closer, tilting the umbrella slightly to shelter her in a snow-free space.
"When no one is around, you need not use that title."
Shen Fenghuo gave a soft "mm" and looked up at him. "Are you done with your work, Lord?"
"Not yet."
Lu Jin walked beside her. "Case files need analyzing, clues need sorting—there’s always more to do."
"Then why are you here…"
"Cases must be handled, but home must also be taken care of."
Lu Jin's voice remained gentle. "It's getting dark, and the snow is starting up again. Chang'an hasn't been very safe lately—I'll walk back with you."
As he spoke, he naturally shifted to the side, tilting the umbrella further toward her to shield her from the wind and snow blowing toward them.
"Let's go. If we're any later, the ward gates will close."
As they walked, the snow seemed to fall even more densely, but the oil-paper umbrella in Lu Jin's hand remained steady, sheltering both of them.
After a while, he suddenly spoke. "Move a little closer."
Shen Fenghuo let out a soft "ah" and quickly shifted closer to him, her shoulder nearly brushing his arm.
Lu Jin glanced down at the snow on her cloak and brushed it off. "Am I some kind of ferocious beast? Why are you so reserved?"
Isn't he, though…
Shen Fenghuo thought.
They walked on in silence for a while longer, the snow falling softly on the umbrella and occasionally drifting onto their temples, rustling faintly.
Suddenly, Lu Jin reached up and rubbed his temples, causing the umbrella to sway slightly.
Sensing something was off, Shen Fenghuo looked up at him. "Lord, are you feeling unwell?"
They were standing very close, and the scent of pomelo blossom fragrance mixed with the crispness of snow wafted toward her from him.
His voice was low and hoarse. "It's nothing. Let's hurry home."
Author's Note:
A'He: Hmm, not a ferocious beast, huh?
Lu Jin: What exactly did Lu Heng do to her that she's so afraid of him?
(Using chicken broth to simmer crab roe tofu makes it even more delicious.)