Outside the house, the cold wind whistled, while inside the kitchen, steam rose in waves. Shen Zhihe placed the last Xiao Long Bao on the table, sat down on a stool, and stretched lazily. At that moment, she realized that apart from the crackling of flames in the stove, the room was completely silent.
She turned her head and saw that Shen Zhian, who had been clinging to her earlier asking all sorts of questions, was now fast asleep on the table, his face dusted with white flour. Shen Zhihe smiled faintly, understanding dawning on her. She guessed he must have woken up early and spent the whole morning on edge.
Moving quietly, Shen Zhihe approached and saw that Shen Zhian was still clutching the dough she had given him earlier. Her eyes curved into a smile as she carefully picked him up.
Just then, Shen Zhian mumbled sleepily, “Elder Sister?”
“If you’re tired, go back to the bedroom and sleep for a while. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
After tucking her younger brother into the quilt, Shen Zhihe felt the icy coldness of the bedding and thought to herself that she should have someone build a Kang bed-stove. Otherwise, the quilt would remain as cold as an ice cave every day, and even a hot-water bottle wouldn’t help. She also estimated that they would need to build another room. For now, Zhi An was still young and could share a room with her, but as he grew older, it would become inconvenient.
With this in mind, Shen Zhihe quickly tucked the cloth-wrapped hot-water bottle into the shivering Shen Zhian’s arms. Only when she saw he was no longer trembling from the cold did she turn and head back to the kitchen.
She took four of the freshly made Xiao Long Bao and placed them in a steamer. After filling the pot with water, she set the steamer on top. The firewood in the earthen stove burned fiercely, and soon the water in the pot began to boil. She then started preparing the Xiao Hun Tun wrappers and meat filling she would need for her stall early the next morning.
Under her hands, thin, translucent wrappers, each smaller than a palm, appeared one by one. Soon, a stack had formed in front of her. After about a quarter of an hour, she finally finished preparing the wrappers. Shen Zhihe set down the rolling pin, rubbed her sore arms and neck, and hurried over to the stove.
Lifting the lid of the steamer, a burst of steam immediately billowed out. After a moment, as the white mist dissipated, she saw the four Xiao Long Bao, their thin skins filled with rich broth. The originally white wrappers had turned somewhat translucent from the steaming, faintly revealing the caramel-colored meat filling inside. They looked utterly enticing.
Shen Zhihe was immensely satisfied. Her first attempt at recreating Xi City Xiao Long Bao in Da Ye had been so successful. If she could gather all the ingredients in the future, she could also recreate Sour and Spicy Soup, Hand-Pushed Wonton, and Magnolia Cake. She thought of the golden, crispy-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside treats from her memories, and the way the savory, sweet meat juices would burst in her mouth with the first bite. Just thinking about it made her mouth water, and she instinctively wiped the corner of her lips before quickening her pace.
At that moment, her desire to own her own eatery reached its peak.
She took the freshly bought pork from the day before, estimated the portion, and cut off a large piece. With deft movements, she minced the meat, then grabbed some vibrant green scallions, chopped them finely, and sprinkled them into the mixture. After studying the meat filling thoughtfully for a moment, Shen Zhihe hurried to the cupboard, retrieved three eggs, and picked up a bottle of Shao Daozi from the side before returning to the table.
I still remember that small wonton shop I found in the alleyways in my previous life. I once asked the shopkeeper why the meat filling was so exceptionally tender—it was because they added eggs. Thinking of this, Shen Zhihe cracked three eggs into the meat filling, stirred them evenly, then took the scallion and ginger water that had been soaking since morning and added it in several batches.
Meanwhile, the main branch of the Shen Family located in the northwest of the town was embroiled in constant quarrels.
“Husband, you know perfectly well that Ling Ge’er is a scholar. My brother and sister-in-law intend to match him with an official’s daughter. How could that lowly girl from the second branch, with neither father nor mother, be worthy of our Ling Ge’er?” In the main hall of Shen Residence, the Shen Family Grandmother sat at the head, while Sun Qin glared discontentedly at Shen Dalang across from her.
No sooner had she finished speaking than the Shen Family Grandmother grabbed a cup beside her and hurled it at Sun Qin. Her clouded eyes blazed with fury as she stared fixedly at Sun Qin, her face trembling slightly. “Have you lost your mind today? If Erlang’s daughter becomes someone’s concubine, where would our Shen Family’s dignity be? How would your Dajie’er ever negotiate a marriage match in the future?”
Sun Qin, initially drenched in hot tea and about to erupt, swallowed her anger upon hearing this. She glanced at Dajie’er beside her and, noticing dissatisfaction in her eyes, forced an awkward smile and lowered her head. “Mother, your daughter-in-law was reckless. But that girl exposing herself in public truly isn’t worthy of our Ling Ge’er. What do you think…”
“Enough. I don’t think that girl has any such intentions,” Shen Dalang interrupted before Sun Qin could finish. Rubbing his chin, he recalled Shen Zhihe’s words from that morning before they left, feeling a lingering fear. That girl used to seem dull, never uttering a word even under pressure—how did she become more troublesome than those old foxes today?
“Behave yourself these days. Don’t go looking for trouble with that girl,” Shen Dalang said, withdrawing his thoughts. His gaze fell on Sun Qin’s resentful face, and he felt a headache coming on. His wife was utterly thoughtless; if she went to confront that girl alone, she’d likely gain nothing but humiliation.
At this, Sun Qin scowled. “Oh? When I drove her and her brother out before, why didn’t you step in? Now that I’ve played the villain, you’re acting the good man?”
“Silence! The old woman hasn’t even questioned you about that shop matter, and you dare talk back to Dalang?” The Shen Family Grandmother, irritated by her incessant chatter, slammed the table angrily.
“Grandmother, Mother only means well for the Shen Family. Please don’t blame her,” said Shen Jia Da Jie’er, seated beside Sun Qin. Under the table, she gently patted Sun Qin’s hand.
“Enough, all of you, leave. This old woman is tired,” the Shen Family Grandmother said, massaging her forehead with one hand and waving them away with her eyes closed.
“Rest well, Grandmother,” Shen Jia Da Jie’er replied, then pulled Sun Qin, who seemed about to speak again, out of the room.
Mother and daughter walked through the moonlight, treading on accumulated snow toward the western wing. Sun Qin finally couldn’t hold back. “Dajie’er, why didn’t you let me speak earlier? It was clearly your father who told me to ask Lin Ye to demand that shop from that wretched girl.”
Hearing this, Shen Zhiyun paused in her steps, a wave of helplessness washing over her. She had never agreed with her parents’ actions, but as their daughter, she couldn’t openly defy her father. She let out a long sigh. “Mother, forget whether Grandmother would believe it—don’t you know Father well enough? Even if Grandmother did believe it, he’d find a way to prove he had nothing to do with it and that it was all your doing. By then, you’d be left with nothing from either side, and life would only become harder.”
After a moment’s pause, Shen Zhiyun turned to look at Sun Qin, her clear eyes filled with reproach. “But Father was right about one thing today: you must stop making things difficult for Zhihe. Back when I wasn’t home, you drove her out. Now, I have no way to bring her back, but she is still a blood relative of our Shen Family. Don’t make this any uglier than it already is.”
With that, Shen Zhiyun tightened her collar and stepped out into the cold wind, leaving Sun Qin standing under the eaves, seething with resentment.
Meanwhile, Shen Zhihe, busy cooking wontons, was completely unaware of the quarrel at the Shen Residence that had erupted because of her. Watching the small wontons churning in the pot, she counted the time silently. When she estimated they were ready, she took two empty bowls and scooped a spoonful of lard into each. She didn’t know how other regions prepared their soup base.
But in later-day Xi City, everyone favored the soup base made with lard. Nothing else was needed—just a spoonful of lard, two spoons of soy sauce, a sprinkle of chopped scallions, a few shreds of egg crepe, and, if possible, a handful of dried shrimp. Finally, pouring the boiling wonton broth over it would yield a bowl of small wontons so delicious it felt like one’s eyebrows would drop from the sheer delight.
As she scooped the wontons from the pot, she thought about how, after the spring thaw, she might try to buy some small shrimp to dry into her own dried shrimp. Otherwise, she’d keep craving this taste.
Lost in thought, Shen Zhihe took a tray and placed two bowls of wontons and four Xiao Long Bao on it. After a moment’s consideration, she retrieved a small dish from the cupboard, poured some vinegar into it, and set it on the tray before carrying everything to the bedroom.
Outside, it was already pitch black. The full moon, once high in the sky, was now obscured by clouds. The dim room was lit only by an oil lamp. By its faint, yellowish glow, Shen Zhihe hurried to the table with the tray, set it down, and then walked over to the bed. There, she found Shen Zhian curled up under the blankets, fast asleep.
“Zhi An, wake up. Have some dinner and soak your feet before going back to sleep,” she said softly, pinching his nose gently.
Soon, Shen Zhian woke up, struggling to breathe. Still drowsy, he fumbled for the cloak beside him and draped it over himself. He stared blankly as Shen Zhihe fetched the small table from inside and set it on the bed.
The siblings sat facing each other. “Try it, Zhi An.”
Shen Zhian took the spoon and looked at the bowl before him. In the agate-colored broth floated small, delicate wontons shaped like ingots. The aroma of lard wafted up with the steaming heat, making him swallow involuntarily. He gripped the spoon, scooped up a wonton, blew on it lightly, and couldn’t resist stuffing it into his mouth.
In an instant, the rich meaty flavor filled his mouth. Without a word, he quickly picked up a Xiao Long Bao with his chopsticks. Before Shen Zhihe could warn him, he took a big bite. Immediately, the broth dribbled from the corner of his mouth, threatening to drip onto the blankets. Luckily, Shen Zhihe was quick-eyed and swift-handed, catching the drips with a cloth.
Feeling guilty for having done something wrong, Shen Zhian found himself stuck in a dilemma—neither able to eat nor stop eating. Frozen in place with the Xiao Long Bao still clamped between his teeth, he made Shen Zhihe burst into laughter. “Zhi An, Elder Sister didn’t have a chance to warn you earlier. These Xiao Long Bao are filled with hot broth. You should first bite a small opening at the bottom, sip out the broth, and then eat the rest.”
Watching Shen Zhian devour the food ravenously, Shen Zhihe’s eyes brimmed with amusement. Before long, the siblings had eaten their fill.
As the rooster crowed at dawn, Shen Zhihe pushed open the window, only to be met with a biting chill that sent a shiver through her. With effort, she lifted the stove onto the pushcart and carefully placed the prepared Xiao Long Bao, meat fillings, and wonton wrappers into separate wooden boxes. It was only then that she noticed the clever design of the cart—the boxes could rely on the stove’s warmth to keep their contents from freezing.
Once again, Shen Zhihe marveled at the wisdom of the ancients.
Soon after, she brought Shen Zhian to the Ji Shi. No sooner had she set up the pushcart than she spotted a young man who had bought food from her before but had spoken with a frivolous tone. He eyed her up and down and remarked, “So this is why the young lady wouldn’t pay us any mind before—she’s set her sights on that scholar! But with your status, I doubt you’re a match for him. Why not come with me instead?”