Shen Shaoguang held her neck straight, tucked in her chin slightly, and maintained a dignified smile. As the saying goes, one may lose face but must maintain composure—even a balding bird must spread its wings wide.
The reception nun, influenced by her bearing, hesitated before finally leading her to see the Abbess.
The Abbess, in her fifties or sixties with a round face, looked kindly and asked, “Shen—might you be a young lady from the Shen clan of Luoyang?”
Shen Shaoguang gave a rueful smile and said softly, “I bring shame to my ancestors; best not to mention it.”
That confirmed it. The Abbess nodded, “No wonder you have such noble bearing.”
Praising someone’s bearing was, for respectable people of this dynasty, equivalent to a five-star review on modern-day Taobao—just a casual courtesy. Shen Shaoguang smiled and accepted it gracefully.
The Abbess was indeed easy to talk to, immediately agreeing to Shen Shaoguang’s request for lodging.
Though the Abbess didn’t think it necessary, Shen Shaoguang insisted on paying three months’ rent at the temple’s usual rate for visiting pilgrims. “While I’m grateful for Master’s kindness in taking me in, I must observe proper etiquette.”
The Master smiled, “Since the young lady insists on maintaining proper business relations, we’ll do it that way.”
Shen Shaoguang felt somewhat embarrassed—this wasn’t really about proper business relations, but rather her wariness. While the temple offered shelter out of kindness, she was guarding against possible changes of heart… But “rent” did feel more secure than “borrowing.”
As luck would have it, there were no other visiting pilgrims or resident nuns at the temple. Perhaps due to the “Shen” name and her “noble bearing,” Shen Shaoguang was given two very nice meditation rooms in the main building, both spacious and bright.
To show her gratitude, Shen Shaoguang personally made a bowl of five-colored plain noodle soup for the Abbess.
There wasn’t anything particularly special about these noodles—they were just labor-intensive.
She extracted juice from mallow greens and perilla leaves, then mixed different colored ingredients like yellow rice flour and sesame powder with white flour to create five colors. Each type had to be boiled in separate pots to keep the soup clear and the colors beautiful.
While the noodles were responsible for the appearance, the soup base provided the flavor. The broth was made by simmering mountain mushrooms, which are rich in amino acids and produce a meat-like flavor. Only such a rich broth could harmonize the distinct flavors of the five-colored noodles.
When Shen Shaoguang brought it over, the Abbess had already eaten her evening meal, but the noodle soup was too beautiful to resist.
“The mallow green ones, the perilla ones, the yellow rice ones, and mm, the sesame ones are the most fragrant…” The Abbess had quite a discerning palate.
Watching the Abbess finish the entire bowl, her direct disciple Jingqing pressed her lips together—hadn’t the Master just talked about reducing food intake for health? The Master’s words really couldn’t be trusted! Though this noodle soup… it did smell quite fragrant and looked beautiful. Who knew this lay Buddhist Shen had such culinary skills?
One bowl of noodles sparked the Abbess’s enthusiasm for conversation. The old lady enumerated various noodle dishes she had eaten: “The lamb soup noodles from the Northwest, loaded with pepper—you need to break a sweat while eating for it to be right; Hangzhou’s shepherd’s purse soup noodles are best paired with clear chicken broth; the braised noodles from Hebei are best with sparrow meat sauce, garnished with shredded cucumber and cilantro; our Chang’an cold noodles are most refreshing with shrimp roe or mandarin fish…”
Shen Shaoguang listened with a smile, surprised that the Abbess had traveled to so many places—how wonderful! More importantly, the old lady ate meat… Did that mean residents here weren’t required to maintain a vegetarian diet?
To please the old lady, Shen Shaoguang elaborated on her comments.
“Master’s words are right. The enjoyment of food varies with time, place, and person.”
Though Shen Shaoguang’s cooking skills were only mediocre, food criticism was her expertise. She continued with a smile, “Eating cold noodles in the twelfth month, no matter how good, lacks refreshment—this is variation by time. Eating lamb and pepper noodles in Hangzhou would be too heavy, while shepherd’s purse soup noodles in the Northwest would taste bland—this is variation by place. Scholars find mandarin fish refreshing with cold noodles, while common people might prefer pork gravy, especially with layered fatty pork, for its richness and flavor—this is variation by person.”
These few sentences elevated the discussion to a theoretical level.
The Abbess clapped her hands and laughed heartily, “Wonderful! I’ve never heard it explained so thoroughly. What we’ve discussed today could fill a ‘Classic of Noodles.'”
Shen Shaoguang played along: “A culinary classic could only be written by someone like Master who has traveled thousands of mountains and waters and tasted hundreds of flavors. If you write the ‘Classic of Noodles,’ I would gladly prepare your ink and paper.”
Then she added another flattering comment, “Master Lu already has his ‘Classic of Tea,’ if Master writes a ‘Classic of Noodles,’ it would be a blessing for all food lovers.”
Hearing Shen Shaoguang compare her to Lu Yu, the Abbess laughed even more heartily. This child knew how to speak. The Abbess had mentioned the ‘Classic of Noodles’ casually, but now, encouraged by this flattery, she developed some interest in such a worldly pursuit. Why not give it a try? It would be a shame to waste all those traveled landscapes and tasted delicacies.
Jingqing smiled, half helplessly and half indulgently. The Master had no other hobbies except food, but as the Master said, none of the disciples had developed this particular “root of wisdom.” Now she had finally found a kindred spirit…
Not long after Shen Shaoguang returned to her room, Jingqing came with the eight-browed reception nun Jingci, each carrying a pot of flowers. One pot contained peonies, the other jasmine, both in full bloom.
Jingqing smiled, “Master asked us to bring these flowers to add some fragrance to your quarters.”
Shen Shaoguang knew this was a return gift for the bowl of noodles and hurriedly expressed her gratitude. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, she saw the two nuns out.
“Sister, even if this Miss Shen is from the Luoyang Shen clan, she must be from a withered branch, fallen into such decline. Why does the Abbess show her such courtesy?” Jingci noticed that Shen Shaoguang’s room was extremely simple and she didn’t even have a single servant, clearly showing her poverty.
Unable to say it was because the Master was fond of good food and this was all thanks to a bowl of noodles, Jingqing could only attribute it to the Master’s compassion.
Jingci shook her head disapprovingly—having a good family name did count for something.
Having settled in at Guangming Temple in Chongxian Ward, Shen Shaoguang began implementing her plan to enter the food service industry.
The first step was detailed market research. She had done a rough survey before, but now that she was starting the business, “rough” wouldn’t do.
The temple nuns got up at the first-morning drum for their dawn prayers. Though Shen Shaoguang didn’t attend prayers, she also rose early, quickly washed up and got ready, then went out with a few coins in her pocket.
It was still early, and there weren’t many people on the street. Only two or three food shops were open, and she could see the fire from the sesame flatbread oven from far away and smell the sesame fragrance.
The flatbread baker was a young man with thick eyebrows and large eyes. Who knew what time he had gotten up, but he had already baked two batches of bread, keeping them warm in bamboo baskets covered with thin blankets.
Seeing Shen Shaoguang was unfamiliar and a young woman out at this hour, he couldn’t help but give her a few curious glances.
Shen Shaoguang raised an eyebrow.
The bread seller’s ears turned slightly red, and he hurriedly wiped his hands on his apron before taking out a flatbread from the basket to hand to her.
Shen Shaoguang took a bite while it was still hot. The crust was crispy, the inside soft, seasoned with peppered salt—quite tasty. Selling such bread for only three coins, he was just making a living through hard work.
Not far away was a noodle seller, already heating water in preparation.
Further ahead was a larger restaurant. Shen Shaoguang went in and saw about twenty dining tables. The menu board hanging at the counter listed items like steamed lamb buns, ancient tower buns, honey date rice porridge, and lamb soup noodles.
There were only two customers inside. Shen Shaoguang chose the most peripheral table, ordered a bowl of lamb soup, and crumbled her previously bought flatbread into it.
The soup contained only three or five slices of lamb but had a rich flavor. Those who liked it would call it fragrant, while those who didn’t might find it too gamey. Such a bowl of soup cost ten coins.
After finishing the soup and wandering through several small streets, Shen Shaoguang arrived at the ward gate. She waited there until the gate opened, officially ending the night curfew, lingered a while longer until the sun rose high, then returned to the temple.
She went out again on the second and third days, following similar routes but trying different foods.
After completing her survey, she finally made her decision. She then set about acquiring equipment and purchasing ingredients, spending almost all her savings but finally managed to start her business.