Guan Xiyue paid no mind and glanced around the main kitchen to see what seasonings were available at this hour.
Of course, the selection was limited—no chili, few spices, and none of the usual chicken essence, soy sauce, or sesame oil. Luckily, there was sugar and a bit of star anise.
Seeing her pick up the star anise, Head Chef Wang quickly said, “Concubine Guan, these are rare. We don’t even know how to use them.”
Guan Xiyue smiled: “Perfect, I know how. Here’s the plan: let people eat two meat buns first. At noon, I’ll show you my skills. If you get a reward from the master and mistress, share a bit with me.”
The staff didn’t take her seriously. Everyone knew this concubine came from a poor family and had been “bought” for twenty taels of silver.
But she had a good character, wasn’t arrogant about being a “lucky star,” and they warmed to her. They handed over two meat buns.
Guan Xiyue had never realized how delicious steaming-hot meat buns could be. Two buns barely filled her—this body had a huge appetite; in her previous slim life, one bun would suffice.
Still, the ingredients here were organic and natural. Though seasonings were few, the taste was genuine and fragrant.
Without hesitation, Guan Xiyue cleaned her hands and prepared to cook. Chef Wang again tried to stop her: “Concubine Guan, we can’t let you cook personally. This meat is precious, accounted for carefully—we can’t waste it. I earn this wage to support my family; I can’t afford to ruin a chunk of meat.”
There was no choice; her poor family background made her seem untrustworthy.
Ordinary people hardly ever ate meat at home; even when entertaining guests, meat dishes were rare, and chicken eggs or tofu were considered high-quality. Guan Xiyue’s original family had been extremely poor.
With no valuables to offer as collateral, she negotiated: “Fine, if I waste this meat, deduct it from my meal allowance.”
Wang could no longer stop her and watched to see what tricks she had up her sleeve.
Guan Xiyue instructed the maid to maintain a low flame. She expertly cut the meat into large chunks, marinated with a little salt. In a cold pan, she added a bit of oil, some water, and sugar, constantly stirring until the sugar melted. She then simmered it on low heat until it bubbled and turned amber.
Next, she added the marinated meat, continuing to stir until it was colored. Star anise and ginger went in, followed by warm water. She brought it to a boil and covered the pan, letting it simmer on medium-low heat.
When the aroma of the meat filled the air, Guan Xiyue had the maid raise the heat to reduce the sauce. She picked up a glistening piece of tender pork and tasted it—perfectly soft and bouncy.
She silently praised herself. Though lacking many seasonings, for a food enthusiast like her, this cooking technique was effortless.
Wang tried a piece and was shocked, eyes wide. What flavor was this? A total taste explosion—he had never eaten meat so delicious.
He realized that the concubine hadn’t used any fancy tricks, just added a bit of sugar. As a chef, he knew even following the steps exactly, the taste could vary greatly.
Guan Xiyue, proud of Wang’s expression, served herself a small bowl as her lunch allowance: “This is my portion; I won’t be polite. Please bring me two bowls of rice and two buns.”
Wang instructed the maid accordingly and also packed the other side dishes in lunchboxes. Guan Xiyue happily carried them away.
At noon, the kitchen indeed received praise. A distinguished guest had arrived, and the dishes sent were unanimously complimented—especially the braised pork, fatty but not greasy, perfectly balanced, indescribably delicious.
Master Zhou’s face lit up; he rewarded Wang with one tael of silver.
Remembering Guan Xiyue’s request to share half of any reward, Wang sent five qian of silver to her via the maid.
A few days after crossing over, Guan Xiyue held money in her hands for the first time, feeling a thrill. Even a small sum could challenge a hero; silver carried more weight than anything else here.
As for that bowl of braised pork, most went straight into Guan Xiyue’s stomach. Xiaoyun eyed the remaining three pieces hungrily. This meat looked different from the usual steamed meat—glossy, enticing, mouthwatering.
Guan Xiyue’s delight in eating seemed like savoring a rare delicacy.
Seeing she wasn’t sharing, Xiaoyun swallowed and quietly rolled her eyes.
After teasing her enough, Guan Xiyue placed a piece in Xiaoyun’s bowl with a smile: “Try it—it’s fatty and fragrant, made by my own hands.”
Xiaoyun greedily chewed, savoring every bite.
When Xiaoyun reached for another piece, Guan Xiyue quickly removed the remaining two, saying, “That’s enough; these two are for me later.”
Once Xiaoyun was out of sight, Guan Xiyue secretly sent the buns and meat to the storeroom.
When Ling Jingren tasted those two pieces, he was amazed—it was “heavenly meat.” Though a son of a declining noble family and a soldier accustomed to hardships, he had eaten many delicacies before, but this was exceptional.
Guan Xiyue saw his satisfied expression and thought: once she left the Zhou household and opened a restaurant serving her signature dishes, life would surely be comfortable and enjoyable.