Chapter 51

On the dark-hued table, an array of dazzling dishes were artfully arranged. Even though Master Fang fancied himself someone who had sampled a hundred or so dishes in his life, there were still several before him now that he could not name.

“What do you call this one, golden and gleaming on the outside?” Master Fang inquired.

“Sautéed Crispy Pork,” came the reply.

“And this one, soft and tender as tofu?”

“Tamago-yaki.”

“And this dish, with vegetables beneath and meat on top...?”

“Braised Pork with Preserved Greens.”

Master Fang clicked his tongue in admiration. “To craft such vibrant, fragrant fare in such humble surroundings—young lady, you are truly gifted.”

“You flatter me, Master,” Su Tang responded.

“Come now, let us eat together,” Master Fang said. “Jingyuan is my disciple; that makes us family. And among family, there’s no need for such formality. Sit.”

With Master Fang’s invitation, Su Tang—who would have otherwise deferred to custom—glanced at Lu Dashan and her young husband. Seeing them both nod, she quietly took her seat.

“Thank you, Master,” Su Tang said.

“No need for such courtesies,” Master Fang replied, treating them as he would his own kin, and promptly helped himself to a bite.

“Mmm, delicious, truly delicious.”

What had already looked enticing tasted even better.

Master Fang ate heartily, unbothered by any sauce that might stain his robe. Perhaps the young husband was influenced by this display; he, too, ate with noticeably greater appetite.

Only Lu Dashan remained restrained, eating so methodically that Su Tang almost suspected father and son had switched places.

As Su Tang watched in silence, she suddenly heard Master Fang remark, “Young lady, your poise and bearing are those of someone from a noble lineage.”

Su Tang glanced up; Master Fang smiled at her and nodded. Though his robe now sported some unseemly stains, his eyes still shone, bright enough to see straight through to a person’s heart.

Su Tang lowered her gaze, cheeks tinged with bashfulness. “In my younger years, my family did arrange for my education. I learned a little.”

With that, she bowed her head and resumed eating.

Master Fang, observing the crown of Su Tang’s head, felt a flicker of curiosity.

Learned a little? That seemed a rather modest assessment.

*****

The Zhao residence was grand and imposing.

Music drifted through the air as a woman danced gracefully, her long sleeves whirling about her in elegant arcs.

On the central table, an array of exquisite dishes were set out. On either side sat Master Zhao De and Huang Wenzhao. At the head of the table, in the seat of honor, was a man in his forties, dignified in bearing—the very same nobleman who had savored a bowl of vegetarian Dragon’s Beard Noodles in front of “Tasty Fare” some days before.

“Well, brother-in-law, how does it taste?” Zhao De asked.

“Quite good,” replied the magistrate with a nod.

Zhao De grinned broadly, flashing his gold tooth.

The magistrate cast him a cool glance, and Zhao De fell silent, once again assuming a more composed demeanor.

To the side, Huang Wenzhao’s eyes flickered. He raised a hand, and the music and dancing ceased.

The magistrate gave Huang Wenzhao a look of approval. “Nephew, your prospects are limitless.”

“I ask for your further guidance, Sir,” Huang Wenzhao said, bowing.

The magistrate stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Master Fang is a man of talent and cannot be coerced. Since he is resolved, let me make arrangements. In a few days, I shall travel to the capital. Should you be free, you may accompany me.”

“My deepest thanks, Sir!” Huang Wenzhao replied, delighted.

Seeing Huang Wenzhao’s satisfaction, Zhao De quickly interjected, “And what of ‘Tasty Fare’?”

The magistrate frowned slightly. “Were it not for my sister’s favor, I’d not waste another word on you. You are short-sighted indeed.”

“So you mean… we’re to ignore it?” Zhao De asked, bewildered.

The magistrate shook his head. “It is but a dish, after all.”

Hearing this, Zhao De could only agree, but then the magistrate added, “That Dragon’s Beard Noodle, though, is rather interesting.”

Zhao De was left perplexed—what exactly did his brother-in-law mean?

******

In the courtyard, a large black dog gnawed contentedly on a meaty bone by the door.

Inside the main room, Master Fang looked utterly astonished. “You intend to share the recipe for your noodles?”

“Yes,” Su Tang replied with deference. “I donate to the Home for the Elderly, hoping to help in some small way, but seeing the hardships they endure pains me even more. Recently, my husband has studied under you and often recites your teachings. I may not be skilled in poetry, but I do understand the importance of doing what one can.”

“The spicy recipe from before, though it ultimately ended up with Master Zhao, had been tried and adjusted by others as well. The flavors differed, yet all were delicious. The Dragon’s Beard Noodles may draw a crowd, but the true secret is in the craft. The broth and toppings vary from house to house, according to taste. Instead of letting passing merchants learn the method and take it elsewhere, why not share it with our neighbors? If they can use it to earn a living, so much the better.”

Su Tang’s expression was earnest, her gaze open and sincere. Master Fang murmured, “Truly, you possess the qualities of a noble house.”

Hm?

Su Tang’s pupils contracted sharply.

Master Fang quickly clarified, “I mean your virtue and character are no less than those of the great families.”

“Your husband’s nature, I know well—reserved, taciturn. He would never boast of such things. This was surely your doing alone. Most people guard their family recipes jealously, but you are generous enough to share.”

He turned to Lu Jingyuan. “Your wife is remarkable indeed; though you could command a fortune, you are untempted by riches, and though you possess wealth, your heart still remembers the poor and is willing to give.”

Lu Jingyuan replied softly.

Lu Dashan scratched his head, wanting to speak but hesitating.

Li Qingtian kept his head lowered in silence.

Su Tang smiled, though it felt as bitter as if she had swallowed gall.

If it weren’t for the system upgrade requiring a doubled sales volume—and the wolves lurking on all sides—she’d hardly be so generous. What fortune, what riches? If she had any, she wouldn’t part with a single coin.

“Well, since you wish it, as your teacher I cannot stand idly by. The recipe can be taught, but not for nothing. Tonight, I will speak to the village head about this matter,” Master Fang declared, rising with a sweep of his sleeve.

“Thank you, Master,” Su Tang replied, elated on the surface. …Couldn’t he at least wait a couple of days? Must it be so urgent?

*********

Morning broke, clear and bright.

In Peaceful Town, the area around the “Tasty Fare” stall was a sea of people.

Having heard talk of “knife-cut noodles” the day before, everyone was eager to see for themselves.

There stood the capable young lady, one hand gripping a ball of dough, the other holding a small, curved knife. The back of the blade pressed to her palm, the edge facing out, poised for action.

As the steam from the pot rose, the knife pressed to the dough. In a flash, her wrist flicked—silver light tracing a crescent arc—and a three-inch ribbon of dough spun through the air into the boiling water.

In the shifting light, the edges of each noodle were as thin as a cicada’s wing, the center arched with a graceful curve. The noodles tumbled eagerly into the pot, the sound of their landing in the boiling water like rain pattering on banana leaves, ringing out in a lively chorus.

As the noodles were sliced ever faster and thinner, some became so translucent they glowed with the steam.

Even before tasting, one could tell these noodles would be exquisite.

Only upon eating did one realize how ordinary their expectations had been. The uneven thickness rolled across the tongue—sometimes like silk brushing gently, sometimes like soft jade pressing lightly. The savory minced meat burst with the aroma of star anise, while crisp greens cut through the richness, as if a burly fellow, sweat streaming, took a hearty bite and shouted, “What satisfaction!”

“Satisfaction!” echoed the crowd before the “Tasty Fare” stall, calls ringing out without end.