Dayong Dynasty, Jiangzhou.
Qingli Villa.
Winter days are short and nights are long. At the hour of Yin (3:00 AM – 5:00 AM), the sky remained dark.
A rooster’s crow pierced the horizon.
Jiang Mo’s small knife mercilessly slit the large rooster’s slender neck.
The rooster breathed its last. Its two legs kicked out once, unwillingly.
Iris held a lamp in one hand, staring with gleaming eyes at the rooster that had died with its eyes wide open. With her other hand, she kindly brushed across the rooster’s beady eyes, helping it reach its eternal rest.
“Sixth Miss, are we eating chicken today?”
Jiang Mo stepped on the rooster’s claws and tilted its head, allowing the blood to flow into the prepared bowl.
“Stew it, we’re setting up a stall.”
Iris became even more spirited. She skillfully took the freshly killed rooster, boiling water, plucking feathers, and removing the entrails in one seamless motion.
Jiang Mo, meanwhile, was mixing the meat filling. The ladle in her hand glided past oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar; the movements appeared careless, but in reality, every measurement was precise.
Today was the thirtieth day since she had transmigrated to the Dayong Dynasty.
The original owner was Jiang Mo, an adopted daughter of the Jiang family in the capital, sixth in the birth order.
The Jiang family had raised Jiang Mo from childhood. Although she lacked the Jiang family’s bloodline, she had been raised by them and was taught to be grateful and repay the kindness of her upbringing.
Madam Jiang had hired music teachers and dance instructors to teach Jiang Mo how to sing, dance, and play music. She also bought her the finest rouge and powder to maintain her skin, nourishing her until she was fair-skinned, slender-waisted, and possessed a graceful, curvaceous figure.
After Jiang Mo reached her coming-of-age ceremony, they couldn’t wait to hand her over to Master Shen, the legendary and promising Prefect of Jiangzhou who was favored by the Emperor.
Shen Zhengze.
However, this Master Shen was known for never getting close to women. He was cruel, loved to order the execution of entire families, and possessed a temperament even colder than the dog she used to raise.
During his time as the Prefect of Jiangzhou, his reputation for ferocity spread far and wide; even ants would dodge out of his way.
Before Jiang Mo could even see his face, she was sent by the steward to Qingli Villa, along with more than ten other “innocent beauties” received by Master Shen.
There was food, drink, and people to look after them. Jiang Mo had been quite comfortable initially, but only a few days later, Steward Shen came to notify them.
He cut off their pocket money, stating that from then on, they would only be provided with three meals a day. He reminded them to be frugal and to buy fewer rouges, powders, clothes, and jewelry. If they had any objections, they could report them to the Shen residence.
For a time, the beauties were anxious and at a loss. Being poor was not the problem; the problem was being poor themselves.
After thinking it over, Jiang Mo decided to return to her old profession.
In any case, since Shen Zhengze couldn’t afford to keep his women, he couldn’t stop her from earning money. Who didn’t have a few favorite pretty clothes or pieces of jewelry?
Though the small courtyard kitchen was tiny, it was fully equipped.
Within moments, steam rose from the large iron pot on the stove. The rich, savory aroma of chicken soup escaped through the cracks in the door, mingling with the biting winter wind.
Iris drooled at the sight of the iron pot.
“It smells so good, Miss.”
She licked her lips, acting coquettish as she pleaded: “This servant has no other desires in this life; I only ask for a bowl of soup, Miss.”
Jiang Mo chuckled and glared at her playfully: “You have no ambition.”
Stunned by her beautiful eyes, Iris felt a rush of warmth flush her cheeks.
Jiang Mo was born with a stunning, peerless beauty. A mole between her brows, double eyelids, a straight, dainty nose, and lips like vermilion cherries.
She also had a pair of breathtaking “peach blossom” eyes; a hint of blush at the corners of her eyes added an extra layer of charm and allure.
Just one light glance from her could make a person lose their soul, leaving them unable to turn their thoughts away.
She was beautiful, and her cooking was just as delicious.
Iris suddenly felt angry: “Miss is so wonderful. That Master Shen must be blind to treat you so coldly.”
Jiang Mo didn’t really care and said offhandedly, “It’s not just me; there are over a dozen of us in the villa.”
Behind the villa was the Shen residence.
It seemed that the area used to be the backyard of the Shen residence. There was once a beauty who couldn’t bear the loneliness and snuck into Master Shen’s bed. In the dead of winter, she was thrown out by Master Shen, forced to kneel in front of the study for half a day wearing only thin silk, until she froze into unconsciousness.
From then on, the steward ordered the backyard to be walled off, a separate gate was opened, and it became the current Qingli Villa.
Iris still looked indignant.
The chicken soup in the pot was ready, and Jiang Mo had finished kneading the dough. A while ago, she had bought a small bag of dried seaweed and shrimp skins at the market. She planned to set up a wonton stall to make chicken soup wontons.
Her slender hands held the rolling pin, quickly rolling out a large sheet of dough.
Without starch, she had to be extra careful not to let it stick, applying even pressure so it wouldn’t tear.
She layered and overlapped it, then used a knife to cut it into squares the size of her palm.
The skin was thin and semi-translucent; if you could see the lines of your palm through it, it was considered acceptable.
Jiang Mo picked up the prepared filling, spread the dough in her palm, used a bamboo spatula to scoop the filling, and tucked it into the dough.
She folded the edges into beautiful pleats and pressed the center firmly shut.
A round, adorable “lucky bag” wonton was born!
She moved efficiently, and soon a bamboo mat was piled high.
Iris boiled water, unable to wait to drop the wontons into the pot. Once the wontons swelled into round-bellied shapes and floated on the surface, she added a little cold water a few times to settle them.
Seaweed, shrimp skins, thin egg strips, and chopped cilantro were used as the soup base seasonings.
She ladled the small wontons into a bowl, then poured a spoonful of rich, fragrant, golden chicken soup over them like silk.
The shrimp skins and seaweed swirled gently around the wontons—a feast for the eyes, nose, and palate.
Iris held her bowl and greedily popped one into her mouth. She immediately burned her tongue, letting the heat roll around her mouth for a few seconds before slowly biting into the skin.
In an instant, the refreshing fragrance of the chicken soup, wrapped in a mellow, savory depth, burst in her mouth.
The soft, chewy wonton skin intertwined with the slippery, tender meat filling; the filling felt like delicate clouds, melting the moment it touched her tongue.
Layers of distinct, subtle flavors exploded on her taste buds like fireworks. The rich taste went straight to her heart, making it impossible to forget after just one bite.
“Mmm, mmm, mmm!” Iris pointed desperately at the soup bowl with her spoon, but with her mouth full of wonton, she couldn’t say a single word.
Jiang Mo sighed helplessly, urging her: “Eat! We have to set up the stall after this.”
After they finished eating, the two of them led the donkey out of the grass shed, hitched it to the cart, and loaded the stove, iron pot, table, stools, and porcelain bowls.
Jiang Mo patted her beloved little donkey.
This donkey was her greatest asset at the moment, costing her five taels of silver—the custom-made iron pot for the stall only cost two taels.
Adding up all the odds and ends, she had spent all her savings.
Jiang Mo found a veil to cover half her face, leaving only her peach blossom eyes visible.
They set off under the cover of night.
The location she chose was the Jiangzhou pier.
Jiang Mo had observed that every morning before dawn, cargo ships would dock, and a large number of casual laborers would come to unload cargo.
There were other people selling breakfast nearby, but none sold wontons. Perhaps they thought setting up a wonton stall was too much trouble, unlike steamed buns or flatbreads which were more convenient.
The chicken soup was placed on the stove, white smoke swirling, framing the half-hidden, graceful beauty of a woman.
In a pier full of burly men, she quickly became a stunning sight.
If she were just beautiful, that would be one thing.
But the mouth-watering scent of the soup also wafted from her stall.
Several men who smelled it found the steamed buns already in their hands suddenly tasted flavorless.
“Miss, what are you selling at this stall?”
Soon, someone couldn’t help but come over to ask.
Jiang Mo looked up and saw a rugged, thick-set man. She didn’t act shy.
“Small wontons.” She greeted him with poised generosity, her willow-leaf eyebrows curved, “Would the brave warrior like to try a bowl?”
The man hesitated, “How much for a bowl?”
“Twenty coins for a bowl of twelve wontons.”
The man was slightly surprised, “So expensive?”
That came out to more than one coin per small wonton.
The bun seller next door sold a vegetable bun for two coins, and a meat bun for only five.
He could get full on four buns, but he wasn’t sure about a bowl of wontons.
“The brave warrior may not know, but this soup base is made from chicken soup. Not only is it delicious and savory, but it is also nutritious. The wonton filling is also prepared with a unique technique, making it smooth, tender, and delicious. Plus, there are toppings like dried seaweed and shrimp skins, which you can’t find anywhere else in Jiangzhou. Twenty coins is an absolute bargain!”
The burly man bit his lip.
“It’s still expensive,” he muttered.
Maybe he should just forget it.
He’d go back and eat a few more vegetable buns!
But—why wouldn’t his legs move?!
QAQ!!!
He had a frugal nature, but his legs wouldn’t listen to him.
Forget it.
I’ll have a bowl!!