This marriage-cancellation banquet shocked all of Pujiang. In the following days, Shizhen Lou became even more crowded with visitors, many customers displaying a willingness to spend lavishly, all requesting to taste the fine dishes from the marriage-cancellation banquet. Zhenzhen gazed at Yibei Lou across the street, where few carriages and horses visited the cold, empty entrance, and smilingly instructed Feng Xian and the other senior sisters to add the marriage-cancellation banquet dishes to the menu and accept reservations for banquets of the same style.
When Wu Qiuniang and Uncle Pu returned, Zhenzhen was directing the tavern staff in preparations for orders of the new-style dishes. Qiuniang glanced at the mountain of lamb meat, swimming crabs, fish, and shrimp piled in the courtyard, strode quickly to Zhenzhen, raised her hand, and slapped her across the face.
“Where did you get these recipes?” Qiuniang unfolded a flyer for Shizhen Lou’s newly planned dishes, brought it before Zhenzhen’s eyes, and asked word by word, her eyes containing fury ready to erupt.
Zhenzhen had never been beaten by her mother from childhood to now. At this moment, she was stunned, covering her slapped cheek for a long while before stammering, “When I was little, Mother wouldn’t let me eat too many preserved plums and hid them in her room. I secretly went in to look for them, then saw some old recipes in the cabinet—they were ones Mother recorded when she was young, weren’t they?”
Qiuniang was startled and momentarily speechless.
Zhenzhen’s eyelashes trembled, and teardrops fell: “The Yang family was too bullying, saying we only knew how to sell pickled vegetables. I remembered these recipes, so I made them to show everyone… I didn’t know Mother didn’t like me using them. I was wrong—I submit to whatever punishment Mother gives.”
Qiuniang lifted her sleeve to wipe away the tears that surged forth, embraced Zhenzhen, and said with reddened eyes in her ear, “I’m sorry, Mother shouldn’t have hit you… You weren’t wrong—it’s all my fault…”
Unexpectedly, old memories surfaced in her heart. Qiuniang wept bitterly, holding Zhenzhen and sobbing uncontrollably. Zhenzhen hadn’t seen her mother cry for a long time. At this moment, shock had overwhelmed the pain and grievance of being hit. She apologized and consoled her gently, taking quite a while before making Qiuniang stop crying.
Qiuniang subsequently ordered the removal of all new dishes, willing to pay compensation to cancel all recently accepted orders, operating everything according to the previous dishes as before, losing a large sum of money in the process. Though Zhenzhen and the female disciples didn’t understand, they didn’t dare ask many questions. The days at Shizhen Lou continued as plainly as before the marriage-cancellation banquet.
Though Uncle Pu was happy to see Zhenzhen’s engagement to Yang Shenglin dissolved, thinking of Zhenzhen’s future prospects, he still couldn’t help but worry: “Zhenzhen is also young and hot-blooded. If the marriage is canceled, so be it—but why hold a marriage-cancellation banquet making it known throughout the city? In the mouths of gossiping women, it will sound even worse. If it damages a girl’s reputation, finding a good marriage will only be more difficult.”
Qiuniang sighed, “Things have come to this point—there’s no turning back, we can only look forward. Whether her future husband is good or bad depends on her fortune.”
Hearing this, Zhenzhen was quite unconcerned: “I want people to know—those who love watching women’s cuju shouldn’t come looking for me.”
“Mm,” Qiuniang said while mending Zhenzhen’s clothes that had been torn yesterday while riding, “At worst, I’ll pay a bit more and find a son-in-law to marry into our family.”
Scholars of the dynasty who wished to serve in government through imperial examinations had to participate in the provincial examination at prefectures throughout the land in autumn. Candidates who passed the provincial examination would go to the capital that winter to prepare for the Ministry of Rites’ metropolitan examination the following spring. Local officials would host banquets for the candidates at the local Confucian temple before they departed for the capital, showing farewell and good wishes. These banquets were called “village drinking ceremonies.”
Village drinking ceremonies were grand events in various localities, usually requiring months of preparation in advance. In recent years, Pujiang’s village drinking ceremony catering had been jointly undertaken by Yibei Lou and Shizhen Lou. But with the Yang and Wu families’ marriage contract dissolved, both refused to collaborate with the other on the village drinking ceremony. The Pujiang county magistrate thus decided that this year’s village drinking ceremony would authorize one of the two families as head chef. Both families would first prepare separately, then the county magistrate would choose a date to host some of the candidates, letting the two taverns each display their skills, with the attending candidates deciding who would undertake the village drinking ceremony.
Yang Yu was determined to secure the village drinking ceremony contract. Soon after, he grandly renovated Yibei Lou, eliminating all complicated and gaudy decorations, using mostly rocks and bamboo for scenery, hiring specialists for hanging paintings and flower arranging. The taste was quite refined, giving the tavern a completely new atmosphere that could attract the candidates’ attention.
“Moreover, Yang Yu hired an expert to revise their menu, giving each dish a name with literary allusions that sounds both distinctive and elegant,” Feng Xian privately told Zhenzhen the information she had gathered. “For example, ‘Prefect’s Soup,’ which uses the allusion of Cai Cun, the Prefect of Wuxing during the Southern Liang. Cai Cun was upright and honest in office, extremely incorruptible. When serving as prefect, he wouldn’t even drink water from the prefecture’s well and usually ate white amaranth and purple eggplant that he grew in front of his study. Yibei Lou uses amaranth and eggplant to make soup and calls it ‘Prefect’s Soup.’ There’s another dish called ‘Azure Stream Soup’—can you guess what it’s made from?”
Zhenzhen thought and said, “Could it be some rare thing that grows in water?”
Feng Xian shook her head: “It’s just ordinary celery. They take the tender parts of celery, add water to make soup, saying it’s refreshing and fragrant, and looks like green mountain stream water. Du Fu once wrote a poem praising it, calling it ‘Green Celery Azure Stream Soup,’ so Yibei Lou uses this name.”
Zhenzhen said in surprise, “Though these names sound nice, the dishes are very ordinary—would those scholars like eating them?”
Feng Xian said, “Don’t underestimate the effect of names. Scholars naturally admire famous literary figures’ talent and titles. Hearing of dishes loved by famous scholars, they naturally want to taste them. Since they’re going to the capital for examinations, they also want to bask in famous scholars’ glory for good luck. So recently Yibei Lou has customers from all directions—business is excellent.”
Zhenzhen pondered for a moment, then raised her eyebrows: “No matter—they have Prefect’s Soup, we have Dongpo Pork.”
Feng Xian was bewildered, then laughed: “It’s not the same. Dongpo Pork uses pork, and dynasty scholar-officials have always despised pork as vulgar. Ordinary scholars are also influenced by this and rarely choose it. We shouldn’t use this to establish our reputation either.”
Zhenzhen said, “If we’re talking about choosing dish names with allusions, it’s not particularly difficult—just invite some well-read gentlemen to think of a few. Though Yibei Lou’s dish names are novel, the dishes themselves aren’t enough to amaze people. If we want to surpass them, we ultimately must start with ingredients, choosing things that can overwhelm their dishes in flavor. Since they focus on vegetables, we can prepare more meat dishes. If scholars despise pork as vulgar, we can find more distinctive meats for main dishes.”
Feng Xian quite agreed and suggested, “I heard a deer meat shop newly opened in the northern suburbs. The owner is from Lin’an and sells cooked deer meat. Deer meat is rare in the Central Plains—if we use it for main dishes, it will surely refresh people’s eyes and ears.”
Zhenzhen thought this feasible and went to discuss with Qiuniang, but Qiuniang didn’t much agree: “Village drinking ceremony matters should be viewed with an ordinary mind, not thinking about profit and loss. In all things, doing seventy or eighty percent well is sufficient—no need to force ourselves forward or necessarily compete for first place. Let him compete as he will—we need only do well what we usually do. The momentary glory of great fame and huge profits often doesn’t make people feel as peaceful and tranquil as plain days.”
Zhenzhen was young and couldn’t understand the deep meaning of her mother’s words. Using expanding the menu as an excuse, she insisted on going to buy deer meat. Qiuniang had no choice but to instruct: “Deer meat is rarely seen in the Central Plains. If transported from elsewhere, who knows if it can stay fresh? So you must definitely examine the meat quality before stewing and cooking—only buy if it’s not foul or rotten.”
Having gained her mother’s permission, Zhenzhen set out the next day to seek that deer meat shop in the northern suburbs.
The morning light was clear and beautiful this day. Zhenzhen rode along a suburban path, feeling flower fragrance assault her face and warm breezes brush her eyes. Where the horse’s hooves rose often had startled butterflies dancing and spinning. Reaching a curved stream, she heard men’s laughter from ahead among the willow shade, resonating with the murmuring stream water, continuing melodiously without end.
Zhenzhen spurred her horse forward, parting flowers and brushing willows to reach the riverside, only to see the small stream suddenly widen into a pool reflecting the drooping willows and phoenix trees on both banks. The water was clear and limpid, revealing a jade-green depth.
Two young men around twenty years old were spurring their horses with raised whips, striking a leather ball floating on the water surface in polo-playing postures.
However, it wasn’t merely polo—their horses had saddles and bridles removed, and they wore no boots or trousers, having tied the lower parts of their robes around their waists. The hanging hems revealed their long legs as they rode bareback, controlling the reins and horses, breaking through that jade-green water while laughing and striking the ball back and forth, seemingly playing polo games during breaks from bathing their horses.
One wore azure robes and rode a white horse, with sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes, quite heroic in bearing. The other had a high nose and thin lips, handsome and lovely. Facing the warm sun with a bright smile, his eyes seemed to have flowing starlight. He wore pure white garments, and his horse’s coat was pale yellow, glinting with shallow golden color in the sunlight. Like its master, it was surrounded by an aura of radiant elegance.
Water droplets stirred up by the horse whips scattered everywhere, making them seem bathed in silver rain. They laughed and played with raised whips in this water mist, startling the entire pool of wagtails, which spread their black and white wings and leaped and danced across the pool surface, stepping on their laughter.
Zhenzhen focused on watching the white-robed man. He had a small head with the refined beauty of Jiangnan men. The pool water had soaked most of his chest garment, and the silk robe clung to his body, revealing his robust physique that wasn’t at all weak. He smiled leisurely while raising his sleeves in the wind, wielding his long whip in beautiful arcs. In this grove with drifting tree shadows, the beauty he presented was like this summer’s bright morning light.
Zhenzhen dismounted and stood silently by the pool watching, temporarily forgetting her trip’s purpose. The two men finally noticed her. The white-robed man used his toe to lift the leather ball, caught it with his hand, then slapped it away, sending the ball flying straight toward Zhenzhen.
Zhenzhen quickly sidestepped to block with keen eyes and quick hands. When the ball fell, she extended her foot to bounce it several times, then suddenly kicked hard, sending the ball back to the white-robed man.
The white-robed man caught the ball and laughed, “Brother has good skills. If you have leisure, why not enter the water and bathe horses and play polo with us?”
For travel convenience, Zhenzhen wore men’s clothing, so the man called her “brother.”
Zhenzhen glanced at his bare long legs, color rising in her face. She avoided the man’s examining gaze and said, “No need.”
Hearing her voice, the white-robed man’s smile deepened: “So it’s a young lady.”
The azure-robed man heard this and laughed, “Could it really be a young lady? Which family’s little miss would so boldly watch half-naked men without knowing ‘look not at what is contrary to propriety’?”
Zhenzhen immediately felt annoyed and retorted, “You’re playing polo half-naked in broad daylight, not fearing injury to public morals—you’re the ones being improper. I was passing through here, casually viewing the scenery along the way, and unexpectedly saw you. It wasn’t peeping—how is it improper?”
The white-robed man nodded and said to the azure-robed man, “This young lady speaks reasonably. We should get ashore earlier… If a young lady encounters us and word spreads, it would indeed damage reputations.”
Having spoken, he indeed spurred his horse ashore.
Seeing him stop the game, Zhenzhen felt she had disturbed their elegant pleasure and felt somewhat sorry: “That’s no matter—you can certainly continue. I’ll leave now.” Thinking of the neighborhood gossip caused by her broken engagement, she couldn’t help sighing, “I’m not someone with a particularly fine reputation anyway.”
“Miss thinks too much,” the white-robed man said while leisurely putting on boots and trousers with a smile. “I was speaking of my own reputation.”