At first light, Shui Gui Street was still shrouded in a thin, bluish-gray mist.
Su Qingyan and Su Mingxuan returned to the familiar street corner, moving with even more practiced precision than the day before.
Unlike yesterday, their father had, with trembling but firm hands, written a brand-new wooden sign for her. Two elegant yet strong clerical-script characters stood boldly at the top: “Su Ji.” Below, a line of smaller text read: “Red Sugar Flowered Buns, 5 wen; Secret Recipe Fresh Meat Big Buns, 8 wen.”
With everything prepared, Su Qingyan didn’t rush to open the insulated basket.
Instead, she carried a small wind stove from another cloth bag, lit charcoal, and set a flat-bottomed iron pan atop it.
Curious onlookers watched as she unwrapped a piece of food wrapped in oiled paper. Inside was a small chunk of bright red, glistening meat. With swift strokes of her knife, she diced it into tiny cubes.
She then took out several pieces of soaked dried goods and chopped them similarly.
“What kind of meat is that? Red as rouge.”“Don’t know… but it smells… unusual.”
The early risers whispered among themselves.
Su Qingyan heated the iron pan. Without oil, she poured in the red meat cubes.
“Sizzle—”
A sharp, commanding aroma burst from the pan!
It was a complex scent of wine, meat, and distinctive cured flavors, so penetrating that it instantly overpowered every other smell on the street. The cubes shrank quickly in the hot pan, releasing golden oil, making the aroma even more brazen and aggressive, seeping into every passerby’s nose.
Next, she added the chopped dried bamboo shoots, tossing them with the cured sausage cubes. The bamboo soaked up the sausage oils, blending a refreshing freshness with the rich salty aroma, forming a strange yet mouthwatering scent that made onlookers’ mouths water uncontrollably.
Across the street, Liu Sanniang had just opened her shop and staggered backward at the overpowering smell. She sniffed furiously, her face darkening.
That little girl is up to some trick again!
Su Qingyan then scooped the cooked filling into a bowl and, without hurry, opened the insulated basket.
Steaming heat rose, revealing the plump, white buns.
“Today’s new product: Secret Recipe Fresh Meat Big Buns, 8 wen each!” Her clear voice rang out.
“What? Eight wen?!”
The crowd collectively gasped.
A footman who had bought buns yesterday widened his eyes: “Miss, yesterday your buns were five wen, and we bit the bullet to buy them. Today’s buns are eight wen? That’s enough for a bowl of meat noodles in a shop!”
“Yeah, too expensive! Robbing us?”“Is the filling made of gold?”
Doubtful voices rose in succession.
Seeing this, Liu Sanniang gaped and gleefully crossed her arms, shouting: “I told you! That little girl’s gone mad for money! She sold a few buns yesterday, and today dares to charge eight wen! Don’t be fooled—who knows if her ‘secret fresh meat’ is cat or dog! Smells suspicious!”
Her words were sharp and cruel, prompting some to glance at Su Qingyan with suspicion.
Su Mingxuan’s small face went pale with anger, fists clenched.
But Su Qingyan remained calm.
She picked up a steaming bun and, in front of everyone, sliced it open with her knife.
Beneath the soft, white dough, the filling was packed full. Red cured sausage cubes, yellow bamboo shoots, and specks of green scallions—it looked irresistible. The rich aroma from the pan now intensified, pouring out from the cut surface.
“Want to know if it’s worth eight wen? Taste and see.”
As before, she cut the bun into small pieces, placed them neatly on a clean cloth, alongside a wooden sign reading “Free Tasting.”
Yet this time, even with the samples, people hesitated. Eight wen was a psychological barrier that kept many at bay.
Liu Sanniang laughed triumphantly, calling to a few customers at her own shop: “My Liu’s meat pies are still the bargain! Three wen each, filling and satisfying!”
Just as Su Qingyan’s stall fell silent in awkwardness, a clear voice called from the edge of the crowd.
“Miss, you said yesterday you’d have new products—I came just for that.”
The crowd automatically parted. Dressed in an indigo collarless robe, Shen Yan strolled forward with a few classmates.
He immediately noticed the “8 wen” sign and raised an eyebrow—but showed no sign of thinking it too expensive.
Instead, he watched Su Qingyan slice the bun with interest.
“So this is today’s ‘style and substance’?” Shen Yan asked with a smile.
Su Qingyan smiled and offered him a piece: “Try it, Shen Langjun. Today, this bun isn’t about ‘style’—it’s purely ‘for tea.’”
Shen Yan examined it carefully. The tiny cube displayed three distinct colors—red, yellow, green—glossy and appealing.
He put it in his mouth.
The next moment, he froze.
First, the soft dough with pure wheat fragrance. Then, biting through the filling, an incredibly complex savory explosion erupted in his mouth!
The red meat cubes were firm and flavorful, with a unique aroma of wine and smoke. The yellow bamboo cubes were crisp and tender, perfectly balancing the richness of the meat. Two completely different textures and tastes were wrapped seamlessly in the dough.
A warm, smooth fragrance of oil slid down his throat, rich yet never greasy, leaving a lingering aftertaste that made one crave a sip of clear tea.
“Marvelous! Truly marvelous!”
Shen Yan closed his eyes, savoring the taste for a long moment before opening them, face full of admiration. “Savory, rich, oily yet never cloying. Paired with tea, this is the ultimate tea companion! Miss, your term ‘secret recipe’ is well deserved.”
The classmates behind him, already enticed by the smell, could no longer contain themselves. Seeing Shen Yan’s high praise, they couldn’t resist:
“Shen Xiong, let me try!”“Miss, give me one!”
Shen Yan pulled a handful of coins from his pouch and placed them on the stall: “Give me ten! The rest, you share with your juniors.”
“I’ll take two!”“I’ll take three!”
With Shen Yan’s personal endorsement, the students had no hesitation.
They were well-off; eight wen was just a snack price. A chance to taste such novel and delicious food was a bargain.
One student bit into a piece, inhaling sharply from the heat, unwilling to spit it out, mumbling: “Delicious! So delicious! These meat cubes are even more fragrant than the cured meat in Fan Tower!”
“And the yellow cubes—bamboo shoots, right? So crisp! Perfect with the meat!”
The students devoured the buns shamelessly, lips glossy with oil, a scene impossible to ignore.
The few footmen and laborers who had hesitated, seeing the students’ enjoyment, swallowed hard, finally digging into their pockets.
“G-give me one to try!”“I’ll risk it! I’ll have one too!”
The first bite elicited even more exaggerated reactions than the students’.
“By my mother! This flavor! Must be fit for immortals!”“Eight wen! Worth it! Worth every coin! I’d pay ten just for this taste!”
Word of mouth exploded instantly.
Those previously deterred by the price, or who had already left, returned. Passersby paused, drawn in by the enthusiastic atmosphere.
Soon, a long line formed at Su Qingyan’s stall.
“Miss, I didn’t bring enough money—save two for me! I’ll go fetch it!” shouted one man.
“Me too! I’ll go call my brothers to try!”
People rushed home for coins or companions in endless waves.
Su Qingyan and Su Mingxuan were busy beyond measure. Mingxuan’s little face was flushed from excitement and work; he grew tired from collecting money.
The basket of buns was being depleted at an astonishing rate.
Across the street, Liu Sanniang watched in fury as her few carefully lined-up customers deserted her for Su Qingyan’s stall. Her face turned a deep liver color with rage.
The irresistible savory aroma continued to invade her nose, mocking the unattended meat pies in her shop.
“This is outrageous! Completely outrageous!”
Jealousy and resentment almost overflowed from Liu Sanniang’s eyes. She glanced at Su Qingyan surrounded by the crowd, then back at her own empty store, her anger boiling.
She threw down her rag, turned, and stormed into the back alley of her bakery.
A moment later, she emerged, composed once more, a cold smile playing at her lips.