As summer arrived, the weather grew increasingly hot, and Shen Shaoguang began experimenting with various beverages.
In this dynasty, “beverages” were primarily valued for their medicinal and health benefits. It wouldn’t be until the later Song Dynasty that they would develop into everyday drinks for quenching thirst and satisfying cravings. The popular drinks of this dynasty were yogurt whey, sugarcane juice, and of course, tea, which was gradually gaining acceptance.
Yogurt whey was too thick and had a gamey taste, while sugarcane juice was overly sweet. As for tea with its additions of salt, ginger, and various other ingredients – that was beyond words. Shen Shaoguang decided to brew her summer refreshments. Her first choice was naturally sour plum drink, followed by jasmine tea, mung bean soup, and mint honey drink.
Among these, Shen Shaoguang especially loved the sour plum drink.
She would boil dark plums, hawthorn, dried tangerine peel, and licorice bought from the medicinal drink shop with water, then add sugar-preserved osmanthus flowers. In her previous life, Shen Shaoguang had read in a master’s book that preserved osmanthus should be made with white sugar, not honey. Upon trying it, she found it indeed true – the taste was more refreshing. The master was truly a master.①
At this time, privately stored ice was being sold in the market, but the price was too high for Shen Shaoguang to afford. Fortunately, the temple had a well, and cooling the drinks with well water made them quite palatable.
In such hot weather, drinking the rich, sweet-and-sour plum drink with its cooling sensation, Abbess Yuanjue couldn’t stop praising it: “In the previous dynasty, there was Master Chou who created five-colored drinks: green drink from fragrant leaves, red drink from Ji roots, white drink from yogurt whey, dark drink from dark plum juice, and yellow drink from osmanthus. While yogurt whey became the most well-known, others have tried to imitate the rest. I’ve tried several versions of the dark plum drink, but none compare to yours.”②
Shen Shaoguang smiled – of course not, her recipe had been refined over a thousand years!
She also brewed jasmine tea, mung bean soup, and mint honey drink for the abbess to taste, while sharing her plan – to sell them by the Qujiang River on the Dragon Boat Festival.
Although Abbess Yuanjue was a Buddhist nun, she had somewhat of a scholar’s attitude of “not speaking of profit,” and had previously found it hard to understand why a young lady from a noble family would be so focused on running a small business. Now she had grown accustomed to it and even offered advice: “Mung bean drink is too common, not fresh enough, and having too many varieties might overshadow the excellence of the plum drink. In my opinion, just serve the plum drink and… add the jasmine tea.”
However, Shen Shaoguang felt her jasmine tea wasn’t very good, especially compared to the jasmine tea she remembered from her previous life. While her plum drink could capture six or seven parts of the future version’s essence, this jasmine tea barely had one or two parts of the familiar taste. The faint jasmine fragrance was barely there, yet somehow it suited the abbess’s taste – perhaps because its subtle sweetness with a hint of bitterness matched the literary scholars’ sensibilities.
Believing that the abbess, as a seasoned gourmet, gave sound advice, Shen Shaoguang decided to prepare several large jars of plum drink with ice for cold beverages and set up a separate tea stove to brew fresh jasmine tea for hot drinks.
Yuanjue clapped her hands, thinking the plan was very thorough – many refined people enjoyed hot tea even in summer, and the jasmine tea looked especially beautiful when freshly brewed with flower petals floating on top. The formerly profit-shy old abbess was now analyzing customers and positioning products.
The beverages were secondary; the food was key. For the Dragon Boat Festival, zongzi (rice dumplings) was the natural choice. Sweet varieties with red dates, honey dates, red beans, and mung beans were standard fare. But she thought the Tang people should also experience the savory versions with chicken, mushroom and lean pork, and salted egg yolk.
When Shen Shaoguang first arrived at the palace, the Dragon Boat Festival came soon after. She received two zongzi with barely sticky rice and just two red dates inside, thinking this was servant’s fare – at least better than steamed corn buns, what more could she expect? Later, when conditions improved and she helped in the imperial kitchen, she learned that even the emperor only had three or four different fillings, just better cooked. Worse, they loved pouring sugarcane syrup over them… just thinking about it made her throat feel cloyed.
Additionally, since the ai wowo (mugwort cakes) had been well-received at the temple, Shen Shaoguang decided to prepare the filling in advance and make them fresh on-site.
Between preparing materials, hiring transport, and production – thankfully the temple allowed her to use their large stoves for cooking zongzi, and the kitchen nuns and menial nuns helped – she was busy until late into the night before the festival. The next day, as soon as the ward gates opened, Shen Shaoguang loaded her ingredients and equipment onto a rented donkey cart and headed for Qujiang.
Chongxian Ward was in the northwest of the city, while Qujiang was in the southeast – quite a distance. Yet when Shen Shaoguang arrived, she was still early enough to find a good spot. It was close to the riverbank, facing the main road, with rest pavilions and corridors nearby, several large umbrella-like trees, and even some natural rocks under the trees where people could sit and rest.
Shen Shaoguang silently thanked her luck, then quickly set up her tables and stall. By the time steam rose from the pot warming the zongzi, the kettle began to whistle, and she had wrapped twenty or thirty ai wowo, visitors to Qujiang began to arrive in numbers. It wasn’t until the sun was high that the wealthy began arriving in their fragrant carriages drawn by fine horses.
There were other food vendors along Qujiang, but they usually just carried baskets and hawked their wares along the street. Few went to the trouble of setting up an elaborate display like Shen Shaoguang, so passersby couldn’t help but look twice, and more looks naturally led to more sales.
The zongzi sold well, with many adventurous Tang citizens willing to try the meat-filled versions, but they weren’t as popular as the visually appealing ai wowo and the cold, sweet-and-sour plum drink. The refined jasmine tea, however, found few takers due to being “too sophisticated” – or perhaps selling hot tea in summer was simply ill-timed.
While making ai wowo, Shen Shaoguang worried about the ice she’d bought that morning from the ice shop at considerable expense. Although it was wrapped in layers of small cotton quilts in a box, it was still melting quickly. At this rate, the last two jars of plum drink might have no ice left. Meanwhile, she listened to passing conversations.
Two scholar-types were discussing the emperor’s visit to watch the dragon boat races, lamenting their “missed chance to see the royal countenance.” Shen Shaoguang shared their regret – the emperor watched the races from the pavilions of the imperial Qujiang villa and would never stroll along the street. She wished she could transfer her few palace encounters with the emperor to here – then she could leverage the national leader for advertising, creating something like “The Sage’s Plum Drink” or “Imperial Ai Wowo,” similar to “Kangxi’s Fish Head,” “Emperor Qianlong’s Roast Chicken,” or “The Empress Dowager’s Minced Meat Pancakes.”
The advertising copy would follow the usual pattern: “As the Sage watched the dragon boats, he suddenly felt thirsty, and happened to notice a small drink stall by the road… After drinking, his summer heat disappeared, and his whole body felt refreshed… The Hanlin scholar’s poem goes—” Shen Shaoguang choked here; despite studying poetry for two years in the palace, she wasn’t cut out for it, and anything she wrote would sound like doggerel.
Though she didn’t “chance upon” the emperor, there were indeed some wealthy people seeking “rustic charm.” For a ten-coin bowl of plum drink, Shen Shaoguang filled a water bottle and added small pieces of ice, and the customer gave her a small silver ingot worth two taels.
What an astronomical price for a plum drink! She hoped for more such wealthy customers.
“What kind of drink is this?” a military officer in leather boots and bright armor asked.
“It’s a dark plum drink with hawthorn and licorice, plus ice – perfect for beating the heat,” Shen Shaoguang was suddenly inspired, “Would the young lord like to try a free bowl?”
The officer looked at Shen Shaoguang and nodded, “Very well.”
Shen Shaoguang served him a bowl, which he drained in one go, then decided to buy all the remainder!
The officer had his soldiers come to carry it away, and Shen Shaoguang generously used up all the remaining ice and even sold them the jars.
Before noon, before the dragon boat races even began, one item was already sold out. Calculating the earnings, the plum drink alone had brought in five to six thousand coins, nearly matching two months’ profit from selling pancakes.
In high spirits, Shen Shaoguang continued making ai wowo, when she happened to glance at the pavilion nearby and saw a group of noble ladies, among them a familiar face – Second Young Lady Pang.