Perhaps winter and hotpot were a perfect match, or perhaps it was due to the consistency in Chinese people’s taste over thousands of years – hotpot became unexpectedly popular, to the extent that late-coming customers often couldn’t get a pot. Shen Shaoguang hurriedly ordered another batch of pots.

When ordering the pots, the craftsman told Shen Shaoguang, “These past two days, someone else came with similar designs to place orders.”

A competitor? Shen Shaoguang smiled and asked, “How many did they order?”

The craftsman replied, “Five pots. Judging by their appearance, they seemed to be servants from wealthy households.”

Shen Shaoguang understood – most likely customers who had enjoyed the hotpot at her establishment wanted to replicate it at home. Indeed, being wealthy, they ordered five of these expensive pots at once.

In this era, there was no concept of copyright, and besides, hotpot wasn’t her original creation. She had no intention of monopolizing it. Shen Shaoguang smiled, “Go ahead and make them for them.”

The craftsman hadn’t planned to refuse anyway, but knowing this young lady was the proprietor of the tavern who had created this unique dining vessel, he worried the copying might affect her business and wanted to inform her. Now hearing her approval, the craftsman smiled, “Young Miss is very generous indeed.”

Being given such a compliment, Shen Shaoguang gracefully accepted it.

Actually, not only did this metalsmith’s shop receive orders for hotpots – but other metalworking shops in the West Market also had people bringing designs requesting similar pots. However, the hotpot’s size, height, and stove chamber thickness were all gradually perfected through trial and error over time. Though seemingly simple, if the proportions weren’t right, the fire would either fail to reach the proper temperature or easily get smothered.

Even customers who managed to get suitable pots discovered that their home-cooked versions somehow didn’t taste as good as those at Shen’s tavern.

Of course not! The pot was just the first step! There were still the soup base, condiments, ingredients…

“We are an innovative tavern!” Shen Shaoguang continued to introduce new items, striving to be “always imitated, never duplicated.”

Hearing Shen Shaoguang’s modern saying, A-Yuan nodded vigorously, thinking her young mistress was perfect in every way – beautiful and kind, capable of writing and calculations, good at cooking, skilled at drawing, and even speaking such wise words.

A-Chang wore a similar expression to A-Yuan, also nodding with a smile. Looking at the two of them, Shen Shaoguang suddenly thought of meerkats lining up to eat fruit…

Shen Shaoguang awkwardly explained to them, “I didn’t come up with that saying, I read it somewhere.”

A-Yuan, whose eloquence had improved considerably, replied, “Then that shows Young Miss is erudite.”

This time it was A-Chang’s turn to nod vigorously.

Yu San wore an expression of exasperation and turned back to the kitchen.

What could Shen Shaoguang say? She could only be pleased that A-Yuan’s vocabulary was growing – erudite… well, erudite it is.

A-Chang was a new servant Shen Shaoguang had bought a few days ago. At seventeen, he was short with a round face, and if not for being somewhat thin, he would have looked quite like A-Yuan’s brother. A-Chang had been a merchant household’s servant, but when the merchant took a new wife, she sold off all the old servants, including A-Chang who had been responsible for guarding the gate and sweeping the courtyard.

Shen Shaoguang had A-Chang help in the kitchen – tending the fire, cutting vegetables, washing dishes, and bowls.

A-Chang was very happy with his new duties, “Working in the kitchen is such a sought-after position!” Besides personally attending to the master or young masters, or being a lady’s trusted runner, for servants, kitchen and accounting positions were top choices.

For A-Chang, the kitchen seemed even better than following the masters or working in the accounting office. He wouldn’t get rained on or suffer under the sun, and no one in the kitchen would go hungry. In weather like this, curled up next to the stove, if one could even bury a taro in the ashes – oh my, he wouldn’t trade it for being an immortal!

His words made even Shen Shaoguang’s mouth water, so she bought some taro. Besides making candied taro, they did indeed roast some on the stove. When they were fragrant and soft, Shen Shaoguang led A-Yuan and A-Chang to gather around the stove to eat.

Breaking open the taro released wisps of steam, but eating it burned their tongues. Yet the more it burned, the more they wanted to eat until their mouths and hands were completely black.

Yu San looked at the three of them looking like beggars and pursed his lips, his face full of resignation.

After finishing, Shen Shaoguang felt a bit of regret – it’s a pity there were no sweet potatoes at this time, those were truly sweet.

Though Princess Yu San refused to “stoop to their level,” he indeed had a talent for cooking.

Shen Shaoguang was teaching Yu San how to make a clear broth.

Clear broth was a magical thing – clear as water yet fragrant and savory, quite different from the rich whiteness of milk broth. It was like comparing a formally made-up beauty to a natural lotus flower, though this lotus appearance actually required no less effort than full makeup – after all, it had to deceive the eye.

When Yu San first saw milk broth, he was quite surprised that someone could make meat broth as white as cow’s milk. Upon seeing this clear broth, he found it even more magical – how could it be so transparent?

Shen Shaoguang told him a story she had heard in her previous life.

“There was a tavern cook who specialized in tofu and was invited to cook vegetarian dishes at a noble house. Fearing he might bring unclean or meat-contaminated items, the host provided all the ingredients, and wouldn’t even let him bring his own knife and chopping board. The cook indeed came as agreed, bringing just two apprentices and wearing white cloths over their shoulders, carrying nothing else.”

“The radish and tofu vegetarian dishes he made were incredibly flavorful, and the host praised him greatly, giving him generous rewards.”

Yu San looked at her.

“The secret was in those white clothes. They had been soaked in clear broth, and once in the kitchen, they wrung out the broth to cook the tofu, naturally making it very flavorful.”

Yu San frowned, “How large would the cloth need to be to absorb enough broth for a whole banquet?”

“If it was too wet and dripping, wouldn’t the host notice it draped over their shoulders?”

“…” Shen Shaoguang hadn’t expected Yu San to be a hidden logic expert!

After pondering for a moment, Shen Shaoguang said, “Actually, when I first heard this story, I had one thought – that cloth draped over their shoulders would touch their clothes and probably absorbed sweat and dust – isn’t that a bit unsanitary?”

“…” This time it was Yu San’s turn to be speechless.

But Shen Shaoguang felt this was still a good story – in the face of storytelling and suspense, logic and morality were secondary!

Shen Shaoguang brought the topic back, “Our clear broth doesn’t have these issues – we make enough of it, it’s clean enough, and we can use it to braise plenty of vegetables and tofu and cook lots of hotpots.”

Making clear broth was even more troublesome than making milk broth, as it required an additional “clarifying” process.

Select pork bones and old hen, simmer over low heat, maintaining a gentle boil – too high heat would result in milk broth, too low wouldn’t extract all the flavors from the bones and meat. Meanwhile, carefully skim off oil and foam with a ladle. After sufficient cooking time, you’d have an ordinary clear broth.

Such broth would be good enough for home cooking, but to achieve that water-like clarity, you’d need to wrap finely minced chicken breast meat in gauze and put it in the broth to absorb the suspended particles. Repeat this process once more for what’s called “double clarification,” and the broth will become very clear.

With Shen Shaoguang’s guidance, Yu San’s first attempt at making the broth was very successful. Shen Shaoguang wore a benevolent, proud maternal smile, which Yu San happened to catch. The young miss’s culinary skills were truly excellent, but her personality… thinking of the two round-faced simpletons outside, Yu San shook his head – never mind, never mind.

This clear broth pot was most suitable for refined people eating vegetarian dishes – looking ordinary at first glance but bursting with flavor in the mouth.

Besides the original milk broth pot, and this clear broth pot, Shen Shaoguang gradually added seafood pot, mushroom pot, fish head and bone pot, wolfberry-red date-longan pot… meat-based, vegetarian, seafood, and river fish, medicinal herbs – some suitable for mixing everything, others perfect for particular people like Magistrate Lin who preferred only one type of ingredient. There were seven or eight varieties in total. Hey, as long as you come, you’ll find one that suits you!

They also found their specialty in ingredients – various types of meatballs. While different meat slices were easy to imitate, meatballs weren’t so simple to copy.

How could fish balls be more tender than tofu? Everyone ordering fish balls would be reminded, “Scoop them out as soon as they go in, or they’ll get tough and fall apart”; these beef balls surprisingly contained soup inside, both hot and flavorful; unlike fish balls, these chicken balls were springy…

And then there were the various dipping sauces…

Those who had ordered their copper pots discovered that hotpot still had to be eaten at Shen’s – they simply couldn’t recreate the same taste at home.

Some people went to spy at Yunlai Tavern.

“Why doesn’t Yunlai have a hotpot? This tavern is bigger than Shen’s.”

The waiter looked troubled – was this about the size of the establishment?

He reported to the Second Manager Wei San, who this time didn’t dare make his own decision and carefully reported to Manager Feng.

“Should we have someone look at those pots and make some too?”

Manager Feng glared at him: “Haven’t you learned your lesson!” That day, someone on the street reported that Magistrate Lin and an elderly man had reserved the entire Shen’s establishment for a meal, and Lin was extremely respectful to that person, who was likely a high official from the court.

It was almost the twelfth lunar month, and Prince Zhao’s manor steward Manager Lu was entering the capital with Senior Secretary Cao to deliver yearly tributes to the Emperor and festival gifts to various noble relatives at court, while also meeting with various people in the capital.

Manager Feng omitted the earlier events, only reporting about Shen’s disrespect and Magistrate Lin’s private dining with someone suspected to be a high official.

Manager Lu warned, “Do not provoke this Shen’s establishment under any circumstances. From your description of this distinguished guest, it sounds like Minister Li.”

Manager Feng nervously agreed repeatedly.

Now hearing Wei San’s suggestion, he hurriedly rebuked him and repeatedly stressed that they must not harbor such inappropriate thoughts.

Even without Manager Lu’s warning, Manager Feng wouldn’t have ordered copies of Shen’s so-called hotspots – following behind others like the story of imitating the Handan walk, he couldn’t lose face like that.

Yet it wasn’t just one or two people asking if they had hotpot; Manager Feng smiled bitterly, feeling surrounded by this bewitching thing called hotpot.

Similarly feeling surrounded by hotpot was Magistrate Lin.

Near year’s end, the Capital Prefecture had some criminal case files to hand over to the Ministry of Justice. After the handover, Lin Yan and Vice Minister Song from the Ministry of Justice left the ministry together, sharing the same route home.

Vice Minister Song said he had acquired something good and must invite Lin Yan to try it.

Vice Minister Song was from the main line of the Taiyuan Song clan, whose father and grandfather had both held positions among the Three Ducal Ministers. He was also talented, so he usually had something of an aloof air, though his friendship with Lin Yan was slightly better than with ordinary colleagues.

The Song family was truly an ancient noble house – what could earn his praise as “something good”? Lin Yan’s curiosity was piqued, but when he went to see – it was hotpot, and Vice Minister Song was even eating it in that messy style of throwing everything in.

“It’s much better than small dings! They say it came from some tavern, someone gave me two of them, excellent, excellent!”

Lin Yan: “…”

When he returned home and went to eat the evening meal with his grandmother, there was a hotpot set on the dining table, his grandmother excitedly said, “Yan, look at this novel cooking vessel, Young Lord Pei Twelve had it sent over today.”

Looking at another table specially set beside the pot with various ingredients for cooking, Lin Yan: “…excellent, excellent.”