When Shen Shaoguang left, the sky was only slightly overcast. She defiantly went to the West Market, browsed the vegetable market, bought some raisins and sugar for steaming summer cakes, and had two bowls of yogurt with cherries at a famous eatery. By the time she left the restaurant, the weather had changed.
Shen Shaoguang walked quickly back, but just as she left the West Market, strong winds arose and raindrops began to fall.
Although she had an umbrella, it was no match for such severe convective weather. Shen Shaoguang quickly ran back to take shelter under the eaves at the East Gate of the West Market.
The space under the eaves was crowded with unfortunate souls caught in the rain.
“Last year we had too little rain, this year it’s too frequent.”
“At this time last year, the Emperor was praying for rain at the Circular Mound.”
“The Emperor is truly divine, blessed by heaven. I remember it rained bountifully just days after his prayers.”
Listening to their idle chat while smoothing her rain-dampened and disheveled hair, Shen Shaoguang reflected that it had been a full year since she left the palace. Now thinking back on palace life, it already felt like another lifetime.
In the palace, the first summer rain was traditionally celebrated with locust leaf cold noodles to welcome summer. These cold noodles were the predecessor of modern-day chilled noodles. Even in Shen Shaoguang’s 21st century, many families still followed the tradition of “dumplings for winter solstice, noodles for summer solstice.” Looking at the inheritance of such dietary habits, the Chinese nation truly had lasting traditions.
The palace’s locust leaf noodles weren’t much different from the common version – both used tender locust leaves, crushed to extract juice and mixed into the dough, producing green noodles with the clear, bitter fragrance of locust leaves.
Of course, the palace noodles were made more meticulously, with dedicated noodle pullers who could make them wide or thin as desired. The thinnest was barely thicker than a hair, unbroken for their entire length – one noodle could fill a small bowl, truly a miraculous skill. But in the end, it was still the same dish.
The difference between palace and common cold noodles lay in the toppings.
The previous emperor loved his cold noodles with “bear consumption” and “deer stable” toppings, and liked the same on jade-tip noodles too, not fearing their warming properties even in midsummer.
The current emperor was more sensible, preferring eel strips or perch slices. The eel strips were first fried and then stewed in bone broth – a labor-intensive dish with rich flavor. The perch slices were lighter, briefly oil-poached, then stir-fried with scallions and ginger in another wok, finished with rice wine lees and seasonings – they lost their tenderness if cooked too long.
The various palace consorts each had different tastes, but generally followed the Emperor’s preferences, causing eel and perch prices to rise in Chang’an at the start of summer. When Shen Shaoguang browsed today, there were no eels left for sale by mid-afternoon.
Common people’s cold noodles were much simpler – sauce made of clear soy sauce, garlic paste, vinegar, and sesame paste, topped with tender cucumber strips, enough to make one eat two big bowls. A Yuan said the grain shop ladies used to simply pour on salted water.
Shen Shaoguang found herself missing her previous life’s fried sauce noodles and tomato egg noodles. She could still recreate the fried sauce noodles, but tomato egg noodles were impossible now.
Maybe she’d have fried sauce noodles tonight… Should she use pork with 30% fat and 70% lean, or quail meat? The quails delivered this morning were quite plump – if diced small for the sauce, they should be very fragrant…
While Shen Shaoguang was contemplating 180 ways to eat cold noodles, the rain gradually lost its initial intensity but settled into a steady drizzle with no sign of stopping.
“Young Lord, Young Miss Shen appears to be stranded by the rain at the West Market entrance,” Liu Chang, just leaving Lord Song’s residence in Yanshou Ward, spotted Shen Shaoguang and gently tapped the carriage wall to alert Lin Yan.
Lin Yan lifted the carriage curtain and saw Shen Shaoguang among the crowd, in a white shirt and crimson skirt, holding two packages and an umbrella, looking somewhat bedraggled as she tilted her head to look at the sky.
Lin Yan’s eyesight wasn’t very good – he couldn’t make out her facial expression, but her blurry figure somehow appeared a bit foolish, or rather childlike.
Lowering the curtain, Lin Yan instructed the servant driving the carriage: “Go pick her up.”
Seeing a carriage with guards approach, the sheltering crowd thought some noble was going to browse the West Market and scattered to make way, privately grumbling that nobles were truly odd, not staying home in such weather.
But Shen Shaoguang recognized Lin Yan’s carriage with its clan emblem, and the rain-cloaked and hat-wearing Guard Liu on horseback was unmistakable.
Liu Chang dismounted, came over with hands clasped, and said softly, “Young Miss, please return with us in our carriage.”
Happy to accept a ride, Shen Shaoguang didn’t stand at the ceremony but thanked them with a smile and walked over with her umbrella.
The driver lowered the carriage steps. Liu Chang dared not help her up but stood a step away in case she slipped.
Lin Yan lifted the curtain as Shen Shaoguang smiled at him and steadily boarded.
Kneeling opposite Lin Yan, placing her sugar, raisins, and umbrella beside her, Shen Shaoguang smiled and bowed, “Many thanks to Young Lord Lin today.”
“Just passing by,” Lin Yan smiled faintly.
Shen Shaoguang lowered her eyes with a smile.
With neither speaking, the pattering rain outside made the carriage interior seem especially quiet.
It wasn’t their first time sitting opposite each other, but it was their first time in such a confined space and their first time without a dining table between them. This made their proximity feel particularly close – Shen Shaoguang could even make out the patterns on Young Lord Lin’s robe.
The Young Lord wore formal attire today, in dignified colors with a straight posture, appearing even more imposing. Counting the days… ah yes, today was the New Moon Court Assembly.
Her gaze traveled up his robe to the snow-white collar, cleanly-shaven chin, and she noticed for the first time that Young Lord Lin had a cupid’s bow… Tsk tsk. Shen Shaoguang’s gaze lingered twice around Lin Yan’s attractive lips before moving up to his high straight nose and then meeting his eyes.
Shen Shaoguang looked away, casually smiling, “Many thanks also to the Lady for the tapestry. Such a precious item – I feel somewhat unworthy.”
Since the Lin household messenger said it was from the Lady, Shen Shaoguang naturally thanked the Lady, though why she was thanking Young Lord Lin directly was another matter.
“Grandmother also very much enjoyed the honey-preserved wisteria you sent,” Lin Yan thought for a moment before adding, “She’s thinking of having some flowers preserved too.”
This was a suitable topic. Shen Shaoguang smiled and chatted: “Roses are blooming now – pick the large ones with thick petals to preserve. They’re perfect for cake filling, drinking in water, or adding to yogurt – beautiful color and sweet fragrance. Peonies are beautiful too but don’t preserve as well, and crabapple blossoms taste worst of all, such a waste of good looks.”
Both thought of the bright and lovely crabapple in the residence. Regretting her words, Shen Shaoguang continued, “It’s a bit late now, but preserved spring pear blossoms are also good. Later, lotus flowers are better fried, and as for autumn osmanthus…”
As she spoke, Shen Shaoguang laughed at herself – if I wrote a flower guide, it would surely note the taste of various flowers like the Classic of Mountains and Seas. Burning qin and boiling cranes couldn’t be worse than this!
Lin Yan raised an eyebrow as he looked at her – slightly disheveled hair, crimson skirt neither new nor old, but with radiant beauty reminiscent of the backyard crabapple after light spring rain.
Crabapple, the flower of worldly wealth and status.
Lin Yan looked away, and after a moment asked, “Has the young lady ever resented your father’s choice?”
Shen Shaoguang’s smile faded as she thought carefully. The original owner had been young then – in her memories, there was no resentment, more anxiety and fear. Even her mother seemed not to harbor grudges, though her brother’s feelings were unknown.
As someone who had crossed over to inherit the identity of the Shen daughter and served as a palace maid for many years, Shen Shaoguang felt regret and pity for the original owner and her family, but resentment? She truly had none.
Shen Shaoguang smiled, “I’ve been too busy thinking about food to have such extra thoughts.”
Lin Yan looked at her.
Meeting Lin Yan’s serious gaze, Shen Shaoguang pressed her lips together. “Some things must be done regardless of gain or loss.” Like upholding justice and truth…
“My late father only did what he believed he should.”
Looking at Shen Shaoguang’s beautiful and serene face, hearing her words spoken lightly yet striking at the heart, Lin Yan was silent for a long while.
Finding conversation with the Young Lord too exhausting, Shen Shaoguang fell quiet too, listening absently to the rain outside.
With a jolt, the carriage suddenly stopped. Shen Shaoguang lurched forward toward Lin Yan. He instinctively reached out to steady her, and she fell right into his arms.
Both were somewhat stunned.
Outside there was a commotion.
Shen Shaoguang sat back upright, and Lin Yan withdrew his hand, clenched it, and then returned it decorously to his leg.
Liu Chang reported from outside, “It seems horses were startled ahead, causing carriages to collide.”
“Go see what happened,” Lin Yan said.
Having encountered a Tang dynasty traffic accident and traffic jam, they could only wait.
A sweet fragrance seemed to permeate the carriage. Lin Yan hadn’t noticed it before but now felt it invading his nostrils.
He glanced at the paper sugar package beside Young Miss Shen, which had dampened and shown through. Lin Yan unconsciously glanced at her front collar, then quickly lowered his eyes – presumably she had gotten sugar on her clothes…
This pervasive sweet fragrance made Lin Yan feel somewhat agitated yet also soothed. He lifted the carriage curtain – the endless patter of rain was truly vexing.
Shen Shaoguang wasn’t bothered – after all, such physical contact had been too common in her previous life… Think of rush hour subway crowds.
However, for a scholar like Young Lord Lin… His arms and chest had felt quite firm. The saying about Tang scholars mounting horses to pacify the realm and dismounting to write was true.
Thinking of those outstanding Tang figures, Shen Shaoguang’s gaze returned to this Young Lord Lin. Too bad she knew little of Tang history – she didn’t know if he would become a general abroad and minister at home, with his own page in the history of Tang dynasty officials.
Liu Chang, carrying the Capital Prefecture’s token and supported by other capable guards and servants, soon reported they could proceed, briefly explaining the accident’s cause and resolution. The two injured were family members of National University Professor Zhou Qin, with only minor scrapes and no serious injuries – they’d been sent to a nearby medical hall. “Your servant left Fu Jing to handle the matter.”
“Very well, let’s go,” Lin Yan nodded.
This journey, though not long in distance but rather eventful, finally ended as the carriage stopped before Shen’s tavern.
A Yuan and A Chang were anxiously watching, and upon seeing Shen Shaoguang, rushed out without umbrellas. “Young Miss is finally back! Yu San went to find a carriage to fetch you. Did Young Miss get caught in the rain?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Shen Shaoguang reassured them, then turned to smile and wave goodbye to the Lin household people, and had A Chang take an umbrella to find Yu San.
Still catching whiffs of the sweet fragrance in the carriage, Lin Yan lowered the slightly raised curtain. “Let’s go.”
That evening while handling documents in his study, Lin Yan caught that sweet fragrance again.
Taking a bite of wisteria cake, remembering the day’s events – her expression saying “Some things must be done regardless of gain or loss,” and the feeling of soft fragrant jade in his arms – Lin Yan picked up his brush and wrote the character “jì” (shepherd’s purse) on paper. After studying it for a while, he smiled somewhat resignedly.