Unfortunately, the ingredients were limited—no Sichuan peppercorns, no pickled chili—so Guan Xiyue felt a little regret. But it didn’t matter; even lacking materials, she could make the dish far superior.
She skillfully filleted the fish, each slice uniform, showing the hand of an experienced cook. She separated the egg whites, mixed in starch, and marinated the fish. The pickled vegetables were washed and shredded, stir-fried until fragrant, then simmered in water with seasoning. The vegetables were removed, fish added to the pot, gently shaken until the broth turned milky, then the vegetables returned.
When the pickled fish was served, Tang Yan hadn’t expected much. After all, she was just a street-found girl—perhaps wanting to repay a kindness or earn some money.
Yet after one bite, he couldn’t stop. The dish was sour, tender, and utterly free of fishy odor! Even someone who didn’t usually enjoy fish found it a delicacy.
He asked the shopkeeper and head chef to taste it too. They were equally captivated—ordinary fish and simple pickled vegetables, yet a flavor unlike any pickled fish they had ever tasted.
Seeing their expressions, Guan Xiyue knew she had succeeded. Another opportunity to earn money.
Tang Yan didn’t care about the tavern’s profits, but the shopkeeper certainly did. A successful business meant better wages and support for their families.
The shopkeeper’s praises spilled out like they were free, making Guan Xiyue smile. He was so straightforward—usually in negotiations, even if they wanted a deal, people would nitpick to lower the price.
But here, with a refined young master bringing this young lady, the shopkeeper treated her as an honored guest, no tricks needed.
Guan Xiyue happily accepted their approval and asked, smiling, “Shopkeeper, how much do you think this recipe is worth?”
The shopkeeper got serious: “Thirty taels of silver, Miss. How do you find that?”
Guan Xiyue was already satisfied, about to nod, when Tang Yan intervened: “Miss, it hasn’t been easy for you. Let’s make it forty taels.”
She gratefully accepted his generosity: “I said ‘buy one, get one free,’ and the extra is simple but delicious.”
Back in the kitchen, everyone watched expectantly. Guan Xiyue saw salted duck eggs and eggplant and decided to make salted egg yolk eggplant. She peeled and chopped the eggplant, fried it until crispy outside and tender inside, then stir-fried the yolks until crumbly, combined them with the eggplant, seasoned, and served.
The new dish conquered them again.
Tang Yan praised her: “Miss Guan, your ingenuity is remarkable, blending two unrelated ingredients into something exquisite.”
Contracts were signed, with handprints and seals, as in her previous sale of the braised pork recipe at Dongkang Tower. They agreed the two recipes couldn’t be sold again in Quqing County.
At Tang Yan’s insistence, Guan Xiyue received fifty taels of silver—five small ingots. She beamed, carefully teaching the chefs her recipes.
Tang Yan found himself more and more drawn to her. Unlike the women he usually met—blushing, timid, overly conscious of him—Guan Xiyue interacted with him as if they were old friends, free and easy. He liked it.
He escorted her out of the tavern, when suddenly a man stormed toward them, shouting at Guan Xiyue: “Why are you still here? Who is this? Oh, is this the man who bought you?”
Tang Yan frowned, about to scold him, but Guan Xiyue ignored him: “Ah, Young Master Zhou, thanks to me, your once bedridden body is now walking around. If you won’t thank me, why bark in my face?”
Zhou Zhengye was utterly embarrassed. He thought the troublesome concubine had been sold far away, crying in some corner. Now he unexpectedly saw her fresh and composed, accompanied by a refined young master.
The scandal had already made his family a hot topic in the county, and he himself a laughingstock.
Fuming, Zhou Zhengye shouted: “What’s your relationship? You know who this young master is? This is my concubine, whom I rejected and sold! Why pick up my scraps?”
“Smack!” Guan Xiyue’s palm struck his face with full force, leaving five finger marks visible.
Zhou Zhengye ordered his attendants to attack her, but Tang Yan easily knocked them to the ground.
Guan Xiyue snorted coldly: “Don’t think you’re in the Zhou family anymore. If you dare cause trouble again, I’ll strike you every time I see you. You worthless, flashy, silver-spooned fool—stay hidden under your mother’s skirts and stop making a fool of yourself.”
Zhou Zhengye turned green with rage but dared not act. Honestly, he couldn’t even beat Guan Xiyue, let alone with her strong protector at her side. Shaking, he could only point at her, unable to speak.
Guan Xiyue raised her hand, ready to strike again, and Zhou Zhengye fled with his attendants.
Having taken revenge on the spot, Guan Xiyue felt exhilarated. Settling scores immediately—what a joy in life!
Tang Yan, still in shock, had just heard that this concubine was the one rejected and sold by Young Master Zhou.
Guan Xiyue, however, remained calm: “Sorry for the surprise, Young Master Tang. That’s right—I am the concubine the Zhou family rejected and sold. But here’s a secret: it was my plan all along. That’s how I succeeded in having them sell me, otherwise I’d still be trapped there.”
She bowed slightly and left: “I must go now. If fate allows, we will meet again.”