The chicken stir-fried with spiritual spring water released an especially enticing aroma.
Wild chicken was already firm in texture, but after being infused with the spring water, it became even more tender and juicy. Chen Zhiyi ate until his mouth was greasy and his little belly round, praising his sister’s cooking as the best in the world.
Chen Zhiwei smiled as she watched him devour the food, but her mind was already planning ahead.
Relying on occasional hunting and gathering in the mountains was not a long-term solution. Living off their savings would only lead to running out. If she wanted to give her brother a good life, she needed a stable source of income.
What were her advantages?
Knowledge beyond this era—especially in food preparation and flavor combinations.
A magical spiritual spring space that could enhance ingredient quality. And a body with growing strength.
Starting a food business was clearly the best way to combine all of these.
But what should she make?
It had to require little capital, have a unique flavor, be hard to replicate, and fully utilize the advantages of the spiritual spring.
She thought of braised delicacies—luwei.
The process itself was relatively simple, but the secret lay in the master broth—a recipe that could be reused and only grew richer with time. In this era, spices were limited. Ordinary families neither had access to nor could afford such ingredients, let alone use spiritual spring water to prepare the broth.
If she could make it, the flavor would be unmatched.
Once she decided, she acted immediately.
The next day, Chen Zhiwei went to town again. She brought most of her savings, leaving only five hundred copper coins at home.
She bought basic spices: cinnamon bark, star anise, Sichuan peppercorns, along with ginger and coarse sugar. Then she purchased fifty jin of pork belly, fifty jin of pork head meat, and ten sets of the cheapest pork offal. Altogether, it cost over one tael of silver.
On the way back, she rode in the village’s ox cart. Seeing her buy so much meat, the villagers couldn’t help but worry.
“Girl, life is long ahead—don’t spend all your money at once.”
The speaker was Auntie Zhao, who had helped her before. Chen Zhiwei smiled.
“I know, Auntie Zhao. My brother and I can’t just sit around. I can’t keep going into the mountains forever, so I’m thinking of starting a small business—something stable.”
“Sigh… if you need help, come find me,” Auntie Zhao said, unable to persuade her further.
“Hah! What a joke,” a mocking voice cut in—it was Madam Wang. “You think anyone can do business? Don’t overestimate yourself. When you lose all your money, don’t come crawling back to the Chen family begging for food!”
“At least I don’t steal from others,” Chen Zhiwei replied calmly. “Has Jinbao’s face swelling gone down yet?”
The people on the ox cart burst into laughter. They didn’t get along with Liao Jinfeng’s household anyway—what was wrong with laughing?
“Keep talking tough! I’ll see how long before you starve!” Madam Wang snapped viciously, but when she met Chen Zhiwei’s cold gaze, she snorted and fell silent.
Back at the hut, Chen Zhiwei carefully processed the ingredients.
She scrubbed the offal repeatedly with flour and salt until all odor was gone. Then she took some spiritual spring water, added spices, soy sauce, coarse sugar, and salt, and slowly simmered a braising broth in a small iron pot.
As it cooked over low heat, a complex aroma began to spread through the hut.
It wasn’t just the smell of meat—it carried layers of spice, along with a faint sweetness that whetted the appetite. Even the neighbors couldn’t help peeking over.
“What’s that smell?”
“Seems like it’s coming from Zhiwei’s place…”
“What is that girl cooking now? Smells amazing!”
In the yard, Chen Zhiyi was practicing his exercises, but the aroma distracted him so much he kept swallowing and couldn’t focus.
When the broth was ready, Chen Zhiwei added the pork belly and cleaned offal in batches, letting them braise slowly.
Several hours later, when she lifted the lid—
A rich, overpowering fragrance burst out instantly.
The meat had turned a glossy reddish-brown, glistening with oil. The pork belly trembled and fell apart at the touch of chopsticks, while the offal had absorbed the broth completely, looking irresistibly delicious.
Chen Zhiwei sliced a small plate of pork belly and a piece of intestine for tasting.
“Mmm! Sis! This is amazing!” Chen Zhiyi’s eyes widened as he stuffed his cheeks full, barely able to speak.
The braised pork was rich but not greasy, melting in the mouth. The layers of spice blended perfectly, enhanced by the finishing touch of the spiritual spring water. Even the usually undesirable intestines were tender, flavorful, and completely free of any unpleasant taste.
Chen Zhiwei was deeply satisfied.
Even by modern standards, this flavor was excellent. In this era of simple cuisine, it would definitely have a market.
Now that the product was ready, how should she sell it?
Setting up a stall herself would attract too much attention—and risk exposing her recipe. It was better to find a stable buyer.
She thought of the restaurant in town—especially the “Baiwei Restaurant” that had bought her wild boar before.
With its high foot traffic and demand for specialty dishes, it was perfect.
The next morning, Chen Zhiwei took the earliest ox cart into town.
Carrying braised meat wrapped in lotus leaves, she arrived at the back entrance of Baiwei Restaurant.
The same manager, surnamed Wang, saw her and looked surprised.
“Oh? Girl, caught more wild game?”
Chen Zhiwei smiled and opened the lotus leaf.
“Manager Wang, not game this time—braised meat I made myself. Have a taste and see if your restaurant is interested.”
At first, he wasn’t impressed. What could a village girl possibly make?
But the moment the wrapping opened, a unique aroma rushed into his nose, instantly refreshing him.
He hesitated, then picked up a piece of pork belly and tasted it.
His eyes lit up immediately.
Delicious—so delicious!
Rich but not greasy, tender yet not dry, with a depth of flavor he had never encountered before. He tried the intestine next and was even more shocked—something so lowly transformed into such a delicacy!
“Girl… you made this yourself?” he asked in disbelief.
“It’s a family recipe. I improved it a bit,” Chen Zhiwei replied calmly.
A businessman through and through, Manager Wang immediately sensed the opportunity. This braised meat would be perfect as a drinking dish or specialty cold plate.
Suppressing his excitement, he asked, “What’s your price?”
Chen Zhiwei answered without hesitation:
“Pork belly: 25 wen per jin. Pork head meat: 18 wen. Intestines: 10 wen. If you order regularly, I can adjust the price.”
The price was higher than raw meat, but considering the flavor and preparation, he found it acceptable.
“Wait here. I’ll have our shopkeeper taste it. If he agrees, we can discuss long-term cooperation.”
“Deal,” Chen Zhiwei said, confidence rising.
The shopkeeper sampled each item. The taste was excellent—but the price was indeed high.
“Alright,” he said. “I accept your prices—but you must promise that within this town, you sell only to Baiwei Restaurant.”
“Of course. Looking forward to working together,” Chen Zhiwei replied. She understood his concern—there was no point sharing the profit in such a small market.
“I’ll take today’s batch. Bring the same amount tomorrow. If we need more, Manager Wang will inform you.”
Just like that, over a hundred jin of braised meat was sold out.
Holding the silver—more than double her investment—Chen Zhiwei felt a deep sense of accomplishment.
She was certain—
Tomorrow, Baiwei Restaurant would order even more.