Chang'an was bustling after the snow. The Shaoqing Mansion was located in Wuben Fang, not far from the Dali Temple.
Shen Fenghuo walked through the snow, wrapped in her outer coat. Passing by Xi Shi, she bought two boxes of steamed lotus root and a pound of dried chestnuts from a food stall at the entrance of the district. At that moment, she saw a foreign merchant selling cumin and bought a small jar along the way.
This ingredient—those who like it praise its unique pungent aroma, which removes fishy odors and enhances freshness; those who dislike it find its smell overpowering. In Shen Fenghuo’s memories, it was called cumin.
Shen Qingwan lived in a small one-courtyard house near Xi Shi.
Shen Fenghuo first stopped by her place to inform her about applying for the position of a kitchen assistant at the Dali Temple.
The main room was not large, divided into an outer and an inner section. The outer area had a low table with a small clay stove on top, simmering a pot of hot water, steam curling upward.
Shen Qingwan was chopping lamb in front of the cutting board. Hearing the door open, she immediately dropped the kitchen knife and hurried over with quick steps.
Seeing who it was, she smiled and called out, “A’He, why are you here so early?”
She pulled Shen Fenghuo to sit on a low stool by the stove and poured her a cup of tea. “It’s freezing outside with all this snow. Have a sip of tea to warm up.”
As soon as Shen Fenghuo took a sip from her cup, Shen Qingwan eagerly pressed on.
She took a sip of tea herself, her face beaming with a smile. “Tell me, did you learn from that booklet Mother gave you before your wedding?”
Shen Fenghuo choked on her tea, coughing abruptly.
Shen Qingwan chuckled to herself. “Mother said your husband is handsome, right? With a proper appearance, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist—he must be quite something.”
Shen Fenghuo didn’t want to hide it from Wanniang. She looked up at her and replied honestly, “Actually… Wanniang, he went to catch a thief last night.”
“Catch a thief?”
The smile on Shen Qingwan’s face froze, and her previously cheerful eyes turned cold. The shift from praise to anger took only an instant.
“Are you saying that scoundrel left you, his new bride, alone on your wedding night to go catch a thief?!”
It took Shen Fenghuo quite some effort—soothing her and offering water—to finally calm Shen Qingwan’s anger a little.
Shen Qingwan held Shen Fenghuo’s hand, trembling with rage, her eyes reddening. “No wonder! No wonder that deadbeat Shen Cen was willing to give this marriage to you! I thought it was such a blessing, but who knew something like this would happen. Leaving his new bride alone on the wedding night to catch a thief? I’ve lived thirty-two years and never heard of such a thing!”
“Wanniang, calm down, calm down.”
The more Shen Qingwan thought about it, the more her heart ached. She held Shen Fenghuo’s hand tightly, unwilling to let go.
What kind of husband doesn’t cherish his wife like this?
Filled with self-blame, she said, “A’He, it’s my fault. It’s all because I brought you to Chang’an… You must be feeling terrible inside.”
“I’m actually quite happy.”
Shen Fenghuo smiled instead, her eyes curving, showing no trace of grievance.
She explained leisurely, “Wanniang, look—my mother-in-law treats me very well without putting on airs and even gives me money for my own use. My husband is busy investigating cases and has no time to bother with me. I can do whatever I want. Isn’t this a heavenly life?”
Shen Qingwan frowned and pondered for a while. Seeing that Shen Fenghuo truly showed no signs of distress, she gradually relaxed.
Seizing the opportunity, Shen Fenghuo shared her plans. “Right now, I want to apply to be an official chef at the Dali Temple. I’ve inquired about it—the monthly salary for kitchen assistants there can be as high as eight hundred coins. The benefits are really not bad.”
She had already thought it through on the way—if her husband truly disliked her in the future, she wouldn’t have to force herself to endure it. She could simply discuss a peaceful separation with him, which was quite common in the Tang Dynasty.
If her husband agreed to separate, Shen Fu certainly couldn’t force her to cling to such a high branch.
Once she lost her value, she didn’t believe Shen Fu would welcome her back.
She had heard that her husband was young and capable, with strong investigative skills. He might even be promoted or transferred in the future, and sooner or later, he wouldn’t stay at Dali Temple.
If she could enter Dali Temple, that would be a proper government position—a stable job where she could save money. In the future, she and Wanniang wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else and could live as ordinary, common folk in Chang’an.
Shen Qingwan listened to Shen Fenghuo for a while, then suddenly furrowed her brows again. "A’He, but I still feel something’s off. What kind of person abandons his bride on their wedding night to go catch a thief? Could it be an excuse?"
She took Shen Fenghuo’s hand. "A’He, your husband couldn’t possibly…"
"Hmm?"
Shen Fenghuo raised an eyebrow, not understanding what she meant.
Shen Qingwan swallowed hard. "Come to think of it, just two days before your wedding, I heard people in the neighborhood say your husband passed the imperial examination as the top scholar at eighteen. How glorious he was back then! So many noble families in Chang’an were eager to snatch him as a son-in-law, but he never agreed. When others asked, he said he was afraid of neglecting the young lady."
The more she thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed. She lowered her voice mysteriously. "A’He, now that I think about the word 'neglect'… Could it be that kind of 'neglect'?"
Shen Fenghuo blinked. "Ah, surely not… My husband is tall and strong, he doesn’t seem like that."
"How can you tell? These things are hard to say."
Shen Qingwan seemed to have a sudden realization. "So that’s it, that’s it! I knew there was no reason to run off on a wedding night. He’s all show and no substance! Oh, that scoundrel Shen Cen!"
Her chest heaved with anger, clearly furious.
Seeing her more worked up than she, the person involved, Shen Fenghuo quickly patted her back. "Wanniang, calm down, calm down. This is all baseless speculation. We can’t jump to conclusions."
"What other reason could there be?"
Shen Qingwan sighed deeply. "I must hurry and earn more money. It’s fine if your husband is a bit foolish or busy, but if he’s useless, that won’t do! Oh, A’He, don’t be too naive. If it turns out he really is useless, we’ll separate without a second thought! There are plenty of eligible young men in Chang’an—capable, steady, reliable, you name it! Don’t cling to just one tree."
Seeing Wanniang’s thoughts drifting further and further off track, Shen Fenghuo pointed behind her.
"Wanniang, stop thinking about it. Look quickly—that cat is about to steal your mutton!"
Shen Qingwan turned around and saw a mottled cat arching its back, stealthily pawing at the cutting board and sniffing the mutton.
"Hey, you little thief!"
Shen Qingwan immediately forgot her anger and rushed over, waving her arms and stomping her feet. "Shoo, shoo! This mutton is expensive—it’s for our A’He to taste. How dare you try to steal it?"
The cat let out a "meow," dropped the mutton, and scurried up into the courtyard, leaving a trail of faint paw prints.
Shen Qingwan turned back, picked up the mutton from the cutting board, and asked excitedly, "A’He, do you want it stewed or braised in sauce? I’ll show off my skills today—it’ll be fragrant and flavorful, I promise."
Shen Fenghuo shook her head like a rattle drum. "No, no, Wanniang, spare this piece of mutton. It’s so innocent."
"What do you mean?"
Shen Qingwan shot her a glare.
Shen Fenghuo suppressed a laugh. "I was afraid your house might be like our old place in the countryside, where to avoid setting the house on fire, we ended up building the stove out in the yard."
On the day of her hair-pinning ceremony, Wanniang had insisted on showing off her skills, and just like that, the perfectly good kitchen stove was gone.
But the taste of the noodle soup that day, and the pastries Wanniang had bought for her…
They were delicious.
Shen Fenghuo smiled and gently held Wanniang’s hand, which was gripping a kitchen knife. "Let me handle this. We’ll have that foreign merchant-style food—making it ourselves is much cheaper than buying it."
She took the mutton from the cutting board and skillfully cut the marbled meat into evenly sized cubes. After whittling down several bamboo skewers, she threaded the meat pieces onto them, making sure each skewer included one or two pieces of fatty meat.
Shen Qingwan helped by washing the prepared mallow greens, turnips, and a few sections of crisp, tender calabash gourd. Shen Fenghuo cut these into small pieces as well, alternating them on the skewers with the meat. The red and green colors looked quite appealing.
The clay stove in the yard was already burning brightly. Shen Fenghuo laid the mutton skewers over it, and in just moments, fat began sizzling out, dripping onto the fire with a crackle. The aroma instantly filled the air.
Grilling meat requires careful attention to heat. She turned the skewers from time to time, sprinkling cumin evenly over them. Amid the swirling smoke, the rich fragrance spread everywhere.
Shen Qingwan watched eagerly and insisted on taking a turn at grilling.
Shen Fenghuo guided her from the side. "Turnips hold up well to grilling—they need more time to become sweet. Mallow greens need quick turning, or they’ll go soft."
The two of them huddled around the warm stove, each holding a skewer, occasionally passing freshly grilled ones to each other.
The mutton from Xi Shi was excellent, with little gaminess. The meat was grilled to a crisp exterior and tender interior, glistening with oil.
Biting into it revealed a crunchy outer layer, and with a gentle chew, the juices burst forth.
The marbled mutton was tender but not greasy, paired with the unique spiciness and slight numbing flavor of cumin—truly full of character.
Shen Qingwan couldn’t help but praise, "Our A’He’s skills are simply too good!"
In the yard, there were fragrant, crispy grilled mutton, fresh sweet vegetables, and the sound of their laughter.
When they had eaten their fill, Shen Fenghuo wiped her hands and stood up. "Wanniang, it’s getting late. I’m heading to Dali Temple to submit a letter of application for the cook’s position."
Shen Qingwan wrapped the remaining skewers in oiled paper and stuffed them toward her. "There’s so much mutton—I can’t finish it all. Take it with you. Have it on the way if you get hungry, or let your mother-in-law try some too."
Shen Fenghuo took the oiled paper bundle and tucked it into her robe, smiling as she replied, "Then I’ll be off. I’ll come visit you often from now on."
"Alright!"
Shen Qingwan saw her to the door, watching her retreating back and calling out, "Our very best A’He, may everything go smoothly for you… Remember to make Botuo for me next time you come!"
Shen Fenghuo chuckled softly, turned around, and nodded.
After Shen Fenghuo had walked away, Shen Qingwan glanced down and noticed a cat huddled in the corner of the yard wall, still eyeing the earlier skewers. She picked out some clean pieces of meat and offered them to it.
Watching the cat devour the food, she muttered to herself, "That Young Minister Lu… surely he can’t really be incompetent? He’d better not mistreat my A’He…"
Shen Fenghuo made her way along the snow-covered streets toward Dali Temple. It wasn’t far, and in less than half the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, she arrived at the gate.
She clasped her hands respectfully toward the guard on duty and spoke earnestly, "Pardon the trouble, sir. I’ve come to apply for the cook’s position, hoping to offer my humble skills to prepare meals for the esteemed officials of Dali Temple."
The minor official was leaning against the doorframe yawning. Upon hearing this, his face fell, and he waved his hands repeatedly. "Enough, enough! Don’t come here to cause more trouble! These past few days, applicants for the cook position have been coming one after another, but the food they make is no better than what’s served in the temple. I’ll never trust these self-recommended people again!"
The aroma from the oil-paper package in Shen Fenghuo’s arms drifted out with the wind—the rich, roasted scent of meat mixed with spices wafted straight into the minor official’s nose.
He sniffed and couldn’t help but ask, "What you’re holding in your arms—is that lamb? How is it even more fragrant than what the foreign merchants sell?"
Author’s Note:
A’He: It shouldn’t be useless…
(Young Minister Lu: What’s happening? I keep sneezing.)