Yang Shenglin caught cold from falling into the water and soon developed a fever. Even after returning to Pujiang, he didn’t recover. The Yang couple was both anxious and angry. Yang Yu pointed at Zheng Shi and scolded, “Look at the fine marriage you chose! For a bit of petty profit, you nearly cost our son his life!”

Zheng Shi wiped her tears, saying, “How was I to know that Wu Zhenzhen was such a fierce woman! Men having three wives and four concubines is nothing unusual—what’s wrong with occasionally visiting brothels! Originally, seeing Shenglin liked her, I felt soft-hearted and wanted to fulfill their wishes. I never expected her to be so ungrateful and vicious-hearted—truly the lowborn offspring raised by a pickle-seller!”

When Wu Qiuniang first opened her shop, she mainly sold pickled vegetables, pickled melons, and preserved fish and shrimp. Even now, Shizhen Lou’s side dishes remained famous far and wide, so Zheng Shi contemptuously called her a “pickle-seller.”

Yang Yu slammed the table: “This marriage cannot proceed. Before even entering our family, she’s already so unreasonable. If she truly became our daughter-in-law, at best our whole family would have no peace, at worst Shenglin’s life wouldn’t be safe. Go quickly to the Wu family and tell them about canceling the engagement.”

That day, Zhenzhen was chatting casually with her mother and eldest disciple Feng Xian. Besides studying culinary arts intensively, Feng Xian also loved needlework and reading. Though never formally schooled, she usually learned writing and arithmetic from Uncle Pu very diligently, and often borrowed Zhenzhen’s poetry books to read. Zhenzhen teased, “Sister is so studious—could it be you want to marry a successful scholar in the future and become an officially titled lady?”

Feng Xian’s cheeks turned crimson as she denied in a low voice, “Don’t talk nonsense. I just don’t want to be a blind fool—how could I think of such frivolous things?”

The two were still laughing and talking when they heard that Zheng Shi had come to visit. Feng Xian knew her intentions weren’t good, so she stopped Zhenzhen and went out to receive her herself.

Zheng Shi directly stated her intention to cancel the engagement. Feng Xian politely said that the mistress had gone to Mingzhou to purchase ingredients, but due to recent large waves at sea, foreign merchant ships were delayed and hadn’t reached Mingzhou, so the mistress hadn’t returned yet. Canceling an engagement was a major matter—with no one at home able to make decisions, she hoped they could wait a bit for the mistress to return home before discussing this matter.

Zheng Shi sneered coldly: “I didn’t come to discuss this with you. My son has been humiliated by Wu Zhenzhen to this extent—I’m determined not to let her enter our Yang family door. This marriage must be canceled now. You’re making excuses—don’t tell me you still hope to force Wu Zhenzhen into our family to bask in our glory and sell a few more pounds of pickled vegetables?”

Though displeased, Feng Xian continued to speak kindly, saying no one at home could make decisions and they must wait for the mistress to return. Zheng Shi pressed again, demanding Zhenzhen agree to cancel the engagement, her words constantly mocking the Wu family’s unclear origins, how they started by selling cheap pickled vegetables to earn poor people’s money, while her Yang family had been wealthy for three generations and was a great household in Pujiang. They even had a maternal aunt’s uncle who opened a grand proper restaurant in Lin’an, with many officials and wealthy families taking pride in sampling his fine cuisine… Finally, she didn’t forget to state that Yang Shenglin would go to the capital to take the imperial examinations to become a scholar in the future—he wouldn’t marry the fierce daughter of a pickle-seller.

At this moment, the curtain behind Feng Xian was suddenly lifted, and Zhenzhen appeared in their view. She looked directly at Zheng Shi and said decisively, “The marriage can be canceled. No need to wait for my mother to return—we can write the documents and settle this matter now.”

Zheng Shi said, “Then the betrothal gifts…”

“Will all be returned to your family.”

Zheng Shi chuckled: “In that case, please, Miss, arrange things quickly. I’ll bring people to collect them in two days. Seeing how straightforward you are, I won’t quibble much. You only need to return the betrothal gifts received—I won’t ask you for the money our family spent on the grand engagement banquet.”

Hearing this, Zhenzhen smiled slightly: “Since we’re canceling the engagement, it’s better to calculate all involved money clearly. Originally, your family hosted the engagement banquet, so in two days I’ll also host a marriage-cancellation banquet, still inviting the relatives, friends, and local gentry who witnessed that day, letting everyone know that Shenglin and I part amicably, each going our separate ways in peace.”

Seeing her resolute attitude, Zheng Shi agreed accordingly, arranging the time for the banquet and retrieving the betrothal gifts before returning home to tell Yang Yu and his son what had transpired.

Yang Yu originally didn’t want to attend any marriage-cancellation banquet, but unexpectedly, when Yang Shenglin heard that Zhenzhen agreed to cancel the engagement, he cried and made a fuss, saying he had feelings for Zhenzhen and would absolutely not cancel the marriage. Yang Yu became even angrier and said decisively, “Then I must go drink this marriage-cancellation wine and tell everyone that I absolutely don’t want this daughter-in-law!”

As soon as Zheng Shi left, Zhenzhen summoned all of Shizhen Lou’s female disciples, maidservants, servants, and errand boys, assigning tasks to everyone to carefully prepare tomorrow’s banquet. She privately told the six female disciples: “I have some recipes—the preparation isn’t difficult, but preparing the ingredients will be more troublesome. I hope all the sisters will take extra care to help me make them. The day after tomorrow’s affair is no small matter—we must do well and cannot let Shizhen Lou’s and Mother’s reputation suffer.”

All the female disciples agreed, but only Feng Xian showed considerable worry, asking Zhenzhen whether she should wait for Qiuniang to return before making plans.

“The words have already been spoken—how can they be taken back?” Zhenzhen said, then pulled Feng Xian aside to a private place and instructed her privately: “There’s one dish that only someone like Sister, who excels in both cooking and needlework, can make. I beg Sister to find some helpers skilled in needlework, spend extra effort, and work through the night to complete it. After this succeeds, I will certainly reward you greatly.”

Feng Xian was also curious and asked what dish it was. Zhenzhen whispered in her ear. Feng Xian found it unheard of and couldn’t help but widen her eyes in amazement.

Two days later, the invited relatives, friends, and local gentry came to Shizhen Lou one after another. The Yang couple also appeared with cold faces. Both sides prepared the marriage-cancellation documents and confirmed their signatures. Zhenzhen ordered servants to bring out the organized betrothal gifts, which the Yang family counted and took back. After completing each item, Zhenzhen invited everyone to be seated and immediately began the banquet.

On the guests’ tables were already arranged a row of dried fruits: lotus seeds, hazelnuts, torreya nuts, ginkgo nuts, longan, and large steamed dates; a row of carved preserved fruits: carved plum balls, carved bamboo shoots, honeyed winter melon fish, carved oranges, carved kumquats, green plums and lotus leaves. Maidservants continuously served a row of fragrant, salty, and sour delicacies: aromatic papaya, pepper plums, fragrant cherries, fragrant daylily whisks, ginger-silk plums, licorice flowers, mixed silk plum cakes; a row of preserved and cured foods: thread meat strips, shrimp preserves, wine-vinegar meat, pickled fish, milk chambers, Yunmeng bundles; a row of cut fruits: spring lotus root, goose pear cakes, sugar cane, green tangerines, milk pear moons. There was also a row of twisted candies: lychee sweet dew cakes, lychee smartweed flowers, lychee good gentlemen, twisted peach strips, crispy walnuts, twisted date rings, twisted pear meat, sugar-frosted jade bees, and so on.

The guests looked with eyes unable to take everything in, just beginning to taste when suddenly a servant reported: County Magistrate Cui Yanzhi and his friend were passing by this place and, seeing the grand marriage-cancellation banquet at Shizhen Lou, wanted to enter and observe. Zhenzhen personally went out to welcome them, inviting County Magistrate Cui and a friend who called himself Mr. Ji into the building to the seats of honor.

Once the County Magistrate and Mr. Ji were seated, Zhenzhen raised her hand, music began in the building, maidservants served fine wine, and the banquet truly entered its main theme. The main dishes came with each cup of wine. The first cup featured steamed quail with flowers and pomfret with fake clams; the second cup was three-crisp soup and sprouted belly strips. Zheng Shi and Yang Yu exchanged glances, privately thinking: This looks like Lin’an cuisine… This girl went to Lin’an for a few days and probably ate at some grand restaurants, learning some superficial techniques. But she certainly doesn’t have the skill of the cooks at my aunt’s uncle’s place—ultimately, it’s just imitating others poorly.

When the wine reached the third cup, the dishes served were lamb head skewers and a plate of scallion pickles. The lamb skewers were meat rolls made by wrapping shredded lamb head meat in the thin, net-like lamb caul fat from the sheep’s belly and deep-frying it. The meat was first marinated with scallion shreds, ginger shreds, soy sauce, wine, pepper salt, egg whites, and rich broth. Everyone who tasted them found the outer shell crispy with lamb fat fragrance overflowing, while the lamb meat inside was tender and flavorful without any mutton smell, prompting continuous praise.

Mr. Ji smiled and said to Zhenzhen, “I often eat lamb head skewers in Lin’an, but none use meat as exquisite as this. This lamb head meat has fine texture and tender, smooth taste—I wonder how it’s prepared?”

Zhenzhen said, “This dish depends on ingredient selection. Each sheep’s cheek has one piece of the most tender meat. My lamb head skewers only use that tender meat, hence this texture.”

Mr. Ji said in surprise, “Only the tender meat from both cheeks of the entire sheep head? Then to make today’s lamb skewers, how many sheep were needed?”

Zhenzhen smiled, “Just twenty or thirty, I suppose.”

Mr. Ji sighed softly, then pointed at the scallion pickles before him: “These scallion pickles are also different from others—fragrant, sweet, intoxicating, and beautiful, fine and delicate, with a yellow rather than green color. If the server hadn’t explained, I couldn’t have seen they were made from scallions. I wonder how they were prepared?”

Zhenzhen calmly explained: “The scallions are first lightly blanched in boiling water, all outer leaves completely removed, cut to appropriate lengths according to the plate size, then several outer layers are peeled away to take the center core that looks like yellow chives, and soaked in light wine vinegar—then they’re ready.”

Mr. Ji looked at the scallion pickles placed before all the guests and asked again, “Then for today’s scallion pickles, how many scallions were used?”

Zhenzhen shook her head: “I didn’t make them myself, so I can’t say exactly how many. I estimate there were probably seventy or eighty pounds total.”

Mr. Ji was speechless and silently drank a cup of wine.

The fourth cup’s dishes continued to arrive—spring bamboo shoots with goby fish and swimming crab wontons. Goby fish are local gobies with meat white as silver, plump and tender like tofu, with the best meat in their gills. This meat looks like bean petals and, because the fish breathe frequently with active movement, it’s the most delicious. The fish meat used at this banquet was precisely these small bean-petal portions.

All the guests stared at the full plates of bean-petal fish meat before them with endless sighs, most laughing and praising Shizhen Lou’s extraordinary efforts and Zhenzhen’s selected dishes as having the style of a great family, second to none in Pujiang. Zhenzhen cupped her hands and thanked them with smiles, specifically calling to the ashen-faced Yang couple, inviting them to taste the swimming crab wontons.

Swimming crabs are blue crabs. Yang Yu had also savored fine foods since childhood and knew after one taste that the meat in these wontons was entirely from the two large claws of swimming crabs. This meat had shorter fibers than crab body meat, was more delicate, and had a fresher, more refreshing taste.

Yang Yu’s face grew increasingly dark. He had originally prepared a belly full of mocking words about Shizhen Lou but no longer knew how to speak them.

When the wine reached the ninth cup, a steamer of buns was served. Everyone tasted that the filling was scallions mixed with pork. Zheng Shi snorted coldly and said quietly to someone beside her, “This main dish is quite ordinary—in our shop, it costs only two coins each.”

These words reached Zhenzhen’s ears. She laughed heartily and said to Zheng Shi, “If I took these buns out to sell, I’m afraid I’d have to charge one hundred coins each.”

Zheng Shi laughed in shock: “Could these buns be made of gold to cost one hundred coins?”

Zhenzhen didn’t answer immediately but used chopsticks to cut open a bun, picked out a scallion shred, took a silver needle to gently unfurl the curled scallion strand, lifted it toward the sunlight, and gestured for everyone to look carefully.

Immediately several curious people gathered around to examine it closely. They saw that the fine scallion strand was covered with hollow-carved patterns. Looking carefully, someone exclaimed in amazement, “It’s ruyi cloud patterns!”

Zhenzhen glanced at the dumbfounded Zheng Shi and smiled serenely, “The value lies in the craftsmanship.”