Gradually, whenever Su Mo tried out new dishes, she would always save a portion for Zhou Cheng to taste when he arrived. Zhou Cheng didn’t stand on ceremony either—after tasting, he would speak honestly, pointing out what was good and what could be improved, explaining everything clearly and logically.
“Nian He, this braised pork of yours is absolutely delicious, but I think adding some chestnuts might make it even more fragrant? Chestnuts soaked in meat juices, soft and sweet, are a perfect match with the pork.”
Su Mo’s eyes lit up. Yes, why hadn’t she thought of that?
The next day, she indeed made chestnut braised pork. The chestnuts were sugar-roasted, shelled, and stewed together with the pork. Soaked in the broth, the chestnuts were soft and sweet, complementing the savory richness of the meat perfectly. After tasting it, Zhou Cheng gave a thumbs-up: “This is exactly the flavor! Perfect!”
Su Mo added this dish to the menu—“Chestnut Braised Pork, 35 wen.” As expected, it became a hit.
With Zhou Cheng as her “taste tester,” Su Mo became even more enthusiastic about creating new dishes. She began experimenting with various combinations and cooking methods. Zhou Cheng was always the first to taste each new dish. He could always provide insightful feedback, making Su Mo feel that her efforts were worthwhile.
Lin Wenxuan had come to eat a few times and encountered Zhou Cheng. Both were students at the County School and naturally knew each other. However, Lin Wenxuan was aloof, while Zhou Cheng was easygoing—they were not the same type of person and usually had little interaction.
Whenever they met at Su Ji, Zhou Cheng would always take the initiative to greet him: “Brother Lin, here to eat too?”
Lin Wenxuan would nod in response. Watching Zhou Cheng and Su Mo chatting and laughing, seeing Zhou Yunniang fussing over Zhou Cheng with warmth and concern, and occasionally observing Su Dashan exchanging a few words with Zhou Cheng, that vague, indescribable feeling in his heart would surge up again.
At noon that day, Lin Wenxuan ordered a bowl of Yangchun Noodles as usual and overheard Zhou Cheng praising Su Mo’s latest creation: “Nian He, this tofu pot is amazing! The tofu soaks up the broth, bursting with flavor with every bite! How did you think of using shrimp heads to make the broth?”
Su Mo smiled and said, “It’s a shame to throw away shrimp heads—they make the broth incredibly flavorful. If you like it, cousin, I’ll make it again next time.”
“I love it!” Zhou Cheng nodded repeatedly.
Lin Wenxuan sat nearby, silently eating his Yangchun Noodles. The noodles were the same, the broth was the same, but somehow, the flavor seemed a little blander. After finishing, he put down his chopsticks and counted out the copper coins. Walking to the counter, he saw Zhou Yunniang chatting with Zhou Cheng. Noticing him, she quickly smiled and asked, “Wenxuan, are you done eating?”
“Yes,” Lin Wenxuan placed the money on the counter. “Auntie, I’ll take my leave.”
“Take care.”
As he reached the door, he glanced back. Zhou Cheng was still talking to Su Mo, laughing heartily. Su Mo was also smiling warmly at Zhou Cheng. That feeling in his heart seemed like the mist of a spring night—damp and lingering, refusing to dissipate.
The weather gradually warmed. Lin Wenxuan visited Su Ji Eatery more often than before. He couldn’t quite explain why—after school, his feet would unconsciously carry him toward Su Ji Eatery. If the dining room was full, he would wait at the door for a while or sit on a low stool placed outside, watching the people coming and going on the street.
He always ordered Yangchun Noodles. Three coins a bowl—affordable, and fitting for a scholar's simple tastes. When the noodles arrived, steaming hot, he would eat slowly, bite by bite, with great care. Sometimes he could see Su Mo emerging from the kitchen, carrying dishes, clearing bowls, chatting and laughing with customers. Her face was often sweaty, stray hairs clinging to her temples, but her eyes were bright and lively. Watching her, that vague, indescribable feeling in Lin Wenxuan's heart rose like the steam from the noodle soup—lingering, unable to disperse.
Today, classes ended early. When he arrived at Su Ji, it wasn't yet the busiest time for the eatery. The dining hall was sparsely occupied, and he found a seat by the window. Just as he was about to order noodles, the kitchen curtain was pushed aside, and Su Mo walked out carrying a coarse ceramic bowl.
Inside the bowl was something pale yellow, congealed like jelly, trembling slightly, topped with a dark sauce and sprinkled with bright green scallions.
"Cousin, try this," Su Mo said, placing the bowl on the table near the counter.
Only then did Lin Wenxuan notice Zhou Cheng sitting there. He wore a slightly worn long gown, with a book spread open in front of him, though he clearly wasn't reading it—his eyes were fixed intently on the bowl.
"What is this?" Zhou Cheng leaned in to sniff. "Tofu?"
"It's tofu, but not quite tofu," Su Mo replied with a smile. "It's something new I tried—called 'Steamed Minced Pork and Egg Tofu.' The tofu is mashed, steamed with egg liquid, and when done, it looks like tofu but is even softer. Topped with minced pork sauce—give it a try."
Zhou Cheng picked up a spoon, scooped a bite, and put it in his mouth. He chewed, and his eyes widened. "Tender! Smooth! Delicious! This texture… incredible! The minced pork sauce is savory and rich, a perfect match with the soft tofu underneath! Nian He, how did you come up with this?"
"Just tinkering around," Su Mo said, wiping her hands. "If you think it's good, I'll add it to the menu."
"Of course it's good!" Zhou Cheng took another spoonful. "If this isn't good, what is? I think we could price it at fifteen coins a plate—it'll sell well for sure!"
The two chatted animatedly. Zhou Cheng laughed heartily, and Su Mo smiled brightly. Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling warmly on them.
Lin Wenxuan sat in the corner, watching. The warmth in his heart suddenly turned cold. He lowered his head, staring at the empty table in front of him, and waited for a while before Zhou Yunniang finally brought over his noodles.
"Wenxuan, sorry for the wait," Zhou Yunniang said, setting down the bowl before turning back to her work.
Lin Wenxuan picked up his chopsticks and lifted a strand of noodles. The noodles were the same as always, the broth unchanged, yet somehow, the flavor seemed bland. He ate slowly, but his eyes couldn't help drifting toward the counter. Su Mo and Zhou Cheng were still talking. Zhou Cheng said something, and Su Mo covered her mouth as she laughed, her eyes curving into crescents. That smile was radiant, vivid—something Lin Wenxuan had never seen before.
A dull ache settled in his chest, as if stuffed with cotton.
Finally finishing his noodles, he set down his chopsticks and walked to the counter to pay. Zhou Yunniang was busy with the accounts and looked up when she saw him, smiling. "All done, Wenxuan?"
"Yes," Lin Wenxuan counted out three coins and placed them on the counter. He paused, glancing toward Su Mo.
Su Mo was standing nearby, watching Zhou Yunniang work. Noticing his gaze, she nodded. "Take care, Brother Lin."
Lin Wenxuan opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but didn't know where to begin. He glanced at Zhou Cheng—who had already picked up his book to read, though a smile still lingered at the corner of his mouth.
"Nian He, younger sister," Lin Wenxuan finally spoke, his voice somewhat dry. "Women… should prioritize chastity and composure. When speaking with men outside the family, it is not appropriate to… be overly familiar."
Zhou Yunniang was stunned. Su Mo looked up at him, a flicker of surprise in her eyes before they turned calm.
Zhou Cheng set down his book, stood up, and cupped his hands toward Lin Wenxuan. "Brother Lin, I must disagree. Nian He and I are cousins—her mother is my paternal aunt. Speaking familiarly is only natural between us; how can it be called 'overly'? Moreover," he paused, his tone gentle yet clear, "Nian He manages the family business and interacts with others with her own judgment. Brother Lin's words are somewhat… pedantic."
Lin Wenxuan's face flushed with heat. He hadn't expected Zhou Cheng to directly contradict him, much less use the word "pedantic." He opened his mouth to retort but saw Su Mo gently shake her head.
"Brother Lin's concern is appreciated," Su Mo said calmly. "But I know my own limits in how I conduct myself. There's no need for Brother Lin to worry." Her words were polite yet distant. Lin Wenxuan felt his face grow even hotter, the cotton-like tightness in his chest becoming more suffocating. He pressed his lips together, nodded to Zhou Yunniang, turned, and strode out quickly. The afternoon sun stung his eyes. He walked swiftly back toward the County School, his steps hurried as if fleeing.
Returning to the County School, beneath the shade of the pagoda tree, several scholars were gathered in conversation. Lin Wenxuan intended to avoid them but heard Zhou Cheng's voice.
"…That minced pork steamed egg tofu is absolutely divine! The tofu is as tender and smooth as congealed fat, the minced pork sauce savory and perfectly seasoned—fifteen coins a plate, truly affordable and excellent!"
It was Zhou Cheng. He had already returned and was chatting and laughing with a few classmates.
"Is it really that good?" someone asked.
"Why would I lie?" Zhou Cheng laughed. "My cousin's culinary skills are first-rate. If you go and try it, I guarantee you'll want more!"
"Hearing Brother Zhou say that, we must go taste it after classes tomorrow!"
"Let's all go together!"
Lin Wenxuan stood behind the tree, listening. The cotton in his heart seemed to have caught fire, burning uncomfortably. He couldn't help but step forward, his voice cold. "As scholars, we should prioritize the teachings of the sages. What kind of example is it to spend all day discussing mere appetites?"
The group was taken aback and looked at him.
Zhou Cheng smiled, his expression unchanged. "Brother Lin, I cannot agree. Mencius said, 'Appetite for food and sex is human nature.' Eating and drinking are fundamental human desires; even the sages did not avoid them. We ordinary people should rightly understand the lives of the common folk and appreciate their flavors. My aunt's eatery, Su Ji, is affordable and excellent, benefiting the local community—exactly what the people desire. What is wrong with discussing such a virtuous endeavor?"
"Exactly!" a round-faced scholar chimed in. "Brother Lin, you don't know—Su Ji's dishes are truly delicious! Three-coins Yangchun Noodles, four-coins fish slice congee—what's wrong with us poor scholars indulging occasionally? Must we all be like Brother Lin, living on plain broth and water, to be called scholars?"
Low laughter rippled around.
Lin Wenxuan's face flushed crimson. He looked at Zhou Cheng, at the classmates who echoed him, and felt the fire in his chest burn even fiercer. He wanted to refute them, to cite classics, but his mind went blank, and he couldn't find the words.
"You… all of you…" he finally managed to stammer out a few words before turning sharply and walking away.
Behind him came murmurs of discussion.
"What's with Brother Lin today? Why is he so irritable?"
"Who knows… maybe he's in a bad mood."
Lin Wenxuan hurried back to the dormitory, closed the door, leaned against it, and took several heavy breaths. The fire in his chest was still burning, making his eyes sting. He walked to the window and pushed it open. Outside was the backyard, a lush green expanse. The wind blew in, carrying the scent of soil and grass. He thought of Su Mo's calm eyes, her distant tone when she said, "No need to trouble yourself, Brother Lin." He recalled Zhou Cheng's cheerful laughter, the praise his classmates had for Su Ji Eatery. His mind was a jumble—one moment Su Mo's indifference, the next Zhou Cheng's bright smile, then his classmates' discussions, and finally that steaming bowl of Yangchun Noodles.
After a long while, he opened his eyes and looked at the gradually darkening sky outside. He decided to have a proper talk with Su Mo.