Mu Jianxi keenly noticed a basin of pig offal below. She pointed at it. “Boss, how much is that pig offal? I’ll take that too.”
“I was planning to throw it away anyway. Since you want it, I’ll sell it cheap—ten wen. Altogether, one tael minus ten wen.” The boss looked puzzled. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want such a thing, but money was money.
“Alright!”
After paying, she went to a spice shop and bought some seasonings, along with some flour. Only then did she head home contentedly, carrying all her purchases.
When she returned, she saw that the old craftsman and his workers had already built the stove to a rough initial shape. She didn’t disturb them and instead went straight to the kitchen with her things.
Just as she set everything down, the system issued a task:
“Please complete rose flower pastries and peanut candy. Thirty pieces of rose pastries and four jin of peanut candy.”
Since the system had given the order, she naturally had no reason not to do it.
She took out a large basin and began separating every rose petal. She washed them clean with water, drained them, and spread them on a bamboo tray to dry.
Once dry, she put them back into the basin, added lemon juice, half a bottle of white liquor, and at least half the amount of white sugar as the rose petals. Then she kneaded them forcefully until they turned a deep reddish color. At that moment, the fragrance of roses was fully released. She then added honey and set it aside.
Next, she cut pork lard into evenly sized pieces. After washing it, she put it into a pot with scallions, ginger, and white liquor to remove the smell. She skimmed off the foam, washed it again, and returned it to a clean pot with water. She slowly simmered it for an hour until the lard was fully rendered.
She didn’t throw away the cracklings either—she planned to use them later to make dishes for extra flavor. She placed the lard into a jar, sprinkling a layer of salt at the bottom, then ladled the melted oil in carefully so it would keep longer.
Bao Bao took out peanuts from its space. To her surprise, they were already shelled, saving her a lot of effort. She gave it a big thumbs-up in appreciation.
Making peanut candy was relatively quick compared to rose pastries.
Once the pan was hot, she added half the peanuts and kept stirring continuously to prevent burning. When the skins could be easily rubbed off, she removed them and rubbed off the outer shells with a cloth. She chopped them on a cutting board.
Then she melted sugar in the pan until it turned a golden-brown syrup, quickly stirred in the peanut pieces, and mixed evenly. She poured the mixture onto oiled paper in a wooden basin, pressed it flat with a rolling pin, and let it cool.
With the remaining peanuts, she planned to make “drunken peanuts.” She had already soaked them in warm water earlier. After draining, she rubbed off the skins easily and placed them into a cloth bag, asking Bao Bao to freeze them instantly in its space.
After fifteen minutes, they were frozen solid. She poured oil into a pan, added the peanuts while the oil was still cold, and fried them until fully thawed. She removed them, then raised the oil temperature and deep-fried them a second time until golden and crispy.
In the remaining oil, she added dried chili, Sichuan peppercorns, and star anise, stir-frying until fragrant. Then she returned the peanuts to the pan, added salt and sugar, mixed well, and plated them.
By then, the peanut candy had fully cooled. She cut it into evenly sized pieces, placed some on a plate, and prepared to take them outside for the craftsmen to try.
The workers outside had long been overwhelmed by the aroma. They kept swallowing their saliva and peeking toward the kitchen, wondering what on earth was being cooked.
Mu Jianxi brought out the peanut candy and drunken peanuts and placed them on the table.
“Everyone, you’ve worked hard. Take a break, have some snacks I made, and drink some tea.”
The apprentices looked at the old craftsman. Only after he nodded did they put down their tools and come over.
The old craftsman sat down, picked up a drunken peanut, and ate it. The spicy, numbing, savory flavor exploded in his mouth. If paired with alcohol, it would be absolutely perfect.
The apprentices also ate happily. It was the first time they had ever tasted such delicious snacks—and also the first time a client had treated them so well.
The old craftsman bit into the peanut candy, admiration showing in his eyes. “Miss, what is this made of? It’s so fragrant and delicious.”
“Peanuts,” she replied. “That’s why it tastes so good. Especially these drunken peanuts—they go really well with drinks. Later, before you leave, I’ll pack some for you to take home.”
“Then thank you very much, Miss.”
One apprentice said while eating, “Miss, if you opened a shop in the capital, I’d definitely come support you.”
Just then, the old craftsman suddenly looked worried. “Miss… are you living here alone? Has anything happened?”
Mu Jianxi looked confused. “No. I only arrived in the capital yesterday and bought this house from an agent. Are you saying something happened with this place before?”
The old craftsman sighed, now understanding. “So that’s why… it’s not this house that’s the problem, but the neighbor.”
This made her even more curious. “The neighbor?”
The old craftsman explained:
“It’s the Xuanyou Prince’s Residence. The prince living there is the eighth son of the current emperor, Gu Ruizhe. He has been a battlefield commander since young and achieved countless military victories, protecting the empire. Enemy nations fear his name like they fear death itself. They call him the ‘Ghost-Faced Asura.’
Even we common people are afraid of him. There was once a noble lady who drugged him in hopes of becoming his wife. He had her dragged out and… the punishment was extremely brutal. People were terrified out of their minds.
Another official once impeached him, and the next day his tongue was cut out and hung at the city gate.
Ever since then, no one dares to approach him. He is treated like a god of death. The previous owners of your house even fled the capital because they were terrified of living next to him.”
Hearing this, Mu Jianxi’s mouth twitched slightly.
So that’s why the agent sold it so cheaply—everyone was afraid of that place.
“He’s really that terrifying?” she muttered.
She couldn’t help thinking of yesterday—the man she met. Cold, unreadable, his eyes seemed like they could see through everything.
The old craftsman advised seriously, “Yes. So Miss, you must be very careful living here. Don’t provoke that god of death. Not even the heavens could save you if you anger him.”
She didn’t tell him that last night, the so-called “god of death” had personally come to her house to mooch a meal.
If she did, she was afraid they might faint on the spot.