After several hot days, a heavy downpour finally came, with thunder and lightning. The rain was falling in thick sheets, like strands of gluten.

Shen Shaoguang sat on a folding chair at the doorway, picking vegetables while watching the rain.

The phrase “rain falling like strands of gluten” wasn’t Shen Shaoguang’s original expression; she had read it in Yi Shu’s novel in her previous life. Yi Shu also wrote, “Melancholy of past joys like dreams, when heavy rain pours, when seawater rolls onto the beach.”

Shen Shaoguang had few past joys to be melancholic about. Of course, in her younger years, there was someone she found agreeable – a tall, thin boy. They sat one behind the other in class, spending days solving endless practice problems together, often sharing a pair of earphones to listen to Backstreet Boys’ old songs, with “As Long as You Love Me” playing as they exchanged smiles.

After the college entrance examination, they chose universities in different directions – north and south. That hazy feeling born in shared music quickly dissipated amid the freedom and bustle of university life. Later, that friend went to Florida, where the Backstreet Boys had debuted, pursuing his studies at UF for a Ph.D., ultimately deciding to stay in Florida to enjoy the sunshine and coastline.

During her university years, Shen Shaoguang had impulsively chosen a brutal minor, nearly worrying herself bald. She was busy with various certification exams, part-time jobs to earn money, riding a shabby bicycle, and carrying her laptop as she rushed between the dormitory, study room, library, cafeteria, and off-campus work locations. Romance? Non-existent.

Her relationships after starting work weren’t worth mentioning either. On one side were desired amid bright lights and wine, living for today with no thought of tomorrow; on the other side was everything being weighed on a scale, counting every detail, measuring every ounce. Those subtle, unspoken feelings could only be found in humming tunes.

“Once all flowers bloomed in splendor, now all given to broken wells and crumbling walls…”

Ah, Young Master Lin, if only we had met in my previous life…

Yuan asked with a smile, “Miss, your singing is beautiful. What song is that?”

One of her former bedtime lullabies? Shen Shaoguang sighed softly and smiled, “Shall we have duck soup with winter melon today?”

Yuan’s eyes widened as she realized what this meant, clapping her hands in delight: “Yes! Yes!” After eating corn porridge and vegetables for several days, Yuan felt she was turning into a vegetable herself.

“Everything in moderation,” Shen Shaoguang had lifted Yuan’s dietary restrictions but still cautioned, “Only eat until you’re seventy percent full. If you upset your stomach again, you’ll have to go hungry for a while.”

With no customers around, Yu San was methodically sharpening all the shop’s knives – cleavers, kitchen knives, meat slicers, fruit knives, and every kind of blade.

“Well, well,” Shen Shaoguang nodded, “I must say, San Lang, your stance has quite the heroic air about it.”

Yu San ignored her and continued with his “scratch, scratch, scratch…”

Once he finished with the current knife, Shen Shaoguang told him about her plans for the duck soup and asked him to slaughter the duck. Yu San said nothing, donned a straw rain cape and hat, and went to the backyard to catch the duck.

This duck wasn’t home-raised but had been delivered by the meat vendor yesterday and hadn’t been eaten. The duck, having enjoyed an extra day of life, was currently enjoying the heavenly waters when it met its final fate.

Shortly after, Yu San returned. Shen Shaoguang hurried to take the basin from his hands and found he had already cleaned it with well water. Ah, Princess Yu San – though prideful, he was truly thorough and attentive. She really couldn’t understand what his previous master had been thinking.

Shen Shaoguang carried the basin to the kitchen, first removed the duck skin to prevent greasiness, then heated oil in the wok, stir-fried ginger slices and scallion sections until fragrant, added the duck meat for a quick fry, seasoned with a little salt and sugar, splashed in some yellow wine, then added water. The water had to be added all at once, remembering to skim off the foam, and then left to simmer.

She had learned this soup-making method from her Southern roommate – it was a classic of their dormitory rice cooker cuisine. Being from the North, Shen Shaoguang was used to stewing duck with beer, though the most famous preparation was roasted duck.

Heavy rain couldn’t last long. By the time the duck was in the pot, the rain had lightened to a drizzle that continued for over an hour. When it was time to add the winter melon to the soup, the rain had stopped. Shen Shaoguang looked at the sky – it was almost noon. Would any customers come at this hour after the rain?

There would be, of course, such as Young Master Lin who had “traversed mountains and waters” to arrive.

Though it was his day off, it was rare to see him come for a proper meal. Shen Shaoguang was somewhat surprised.

Lin Yan removed his oiled boots at the door, changed into the shop’s wooden clogs, and smiled, “Today my grandmother is having lunch with Master Yuanjue from Guangming Temple.”

Shen Shaoguang nodded – that’s nice, two old ladies who love and know good food would certainly have plenty to discuss. Wait – she hadn’t asked about that. Shen Shaoguang decided she needed to work on controlling her expressions, especially her eyes.

Passing by Shen Shaoguang, Lin Yan stopped and asked with a smile, “What’s cooking today that smells so good?” His tone was casual and domestic – just like a husband returning home and asking his wife.

Shen Shaoguang looked up at him. He was already tall, and wearing wooden clogs made him even taller. Standing so close, Shen Shaoguang had to “look up” to meet those smiling eyes, then quickly looked away. Hmm, he was wearing Hu-style clothing today, and there was a small red birthmark visible on his collarbone…

Shen Shaoguang cleared her throat, “Stewed old duck soup with winter melon.”

“Excellent, perfect for summer drinking. Please add a little pepper for me,” Lin Yan smiled, then walked to his usual seat.

Shen Shaoguang watched his back, thinking: Are all you Confucian scholars so presumptuous? That was meant for our family!

Despite these thoughts, she would give him a bowl of duck and winter melon soup, along with some small sesame cakes and light side dishes.

While Lin Yan was waiting for his soup and dishes, two people entered – one was Master Li and the other was a man around forty with thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a square face and jaw, presenting a proper appearance.

Lin Yan stood up and went forward to bow, “Master Li.”

Li Yue showed some surprise and smiled, “Ah, it’s Anran.” He had just been riding around the Lin residence, and before the感慨 could dissipate, he encountered the current master of the house.

Hearing movement outside, Shen Shaoguang came out from the kitchen. The two guests turned their heads, and suddenly old memories surged forth – this was Uncle Chu, from the Chu family.

Shen Shaoguang froze.

Li Yue smiled at her, while Chu Di furrowed his brow thoughtfully.

Li Yue made introductions between Chu and Lin.

Chu Di was a great contemporary Confucian scholar who lectured at Guangping Academy and was highly respected among scholars. Lin Yan bowed to him as a junior student, addressing him as “Master Chu.”

Chu Di had many students around this age, though none already wore crimson robes like Young Master Lin. Regarding this young man who lived in his old friend’s former residence, Chu Di’s feelings were quite complex. After some critical observation, he had to admit that such bearing was somewhat worthy of Shen Wu’s bamboo grove, though his face showed only polite smiles as he said, “I am but a country fellow, Young Master Lin need not be so formal.”

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the three took their seats.

Shen Shaoguang came over with a tray, bringing drinks and menus, smiling as she asked, “What would the honored guests like to order?”

“May I ask, Miss, since this is called ‘Shen’s Establishment,’ is the proprietor surnamed Shen?” Chu Di asked.

Shen Shaoguang smiled and replied, “Indeed, I am surnamed Shen.”

A flash of light crossed Chu Di’s eyes as he looked at Shen Shaoguang more carefully, but with others present, he didn’t ask further and simply nodded.

Li Yue knew what he was thinking. Walking through Chongxian District, having just passed by old friends’ old residences, his mind was full of past matters. Hearing the surname “Shen” at this moment inevitably sparked thoughts.

Back then, though Li Yue was in Jiangnan, he had asked people to inquire and heard that the Shen family’s younger sister had died in the palace, and Aji was seriously ill. Such a small child, pampered from birth, without adults to protect her, in such a place…

Li Yue glanced at his old friend, then smiled at Shen Shaoguang, “Whatever you have, Miss, just send it up. Though I haven’t brought much silver, I can give you the five-colored horse outside as payment.”

Shen Shaoguang smiled and replied with deliberate lightness, “With such honored guests here,” she looked especially at Young Master Lin, the deputy mayor of Chang’an in charge of civil affairs, commerce, and security, “I wouldn’t dare slaughter an ox.”

Both were using references from Li Bai’s “Drinking Song.”

The response made Li Yue burst into laughter, while both Chu Di and Lin Yan looked at Shen Shaoguang and smiled as well.

Shen Shaoguang smiled, bowed slightly, and withdrew to the kitchen with her tray to prepare the meal.

Master Li had varied tastes, and as he was hosting guests, it was fortunate that it had rained today and the meat vendor hadn’t delivered meat. Shen Shaoguang activated all her brain cells to utilize everything available: the chicken and quail from the backyard, the two silver carp remaining in the kitchen water bucket, preserved meat, pickled fish, meat sauce, and fermented soybeans from the storehouse. Combined with vegetables, she managed to put together a presentable feast.

Li Yue pointed at half a fish head on his table and smiled, “This has good flavor, you should try it.”

The fish head was steamed with Chinese prickly ash sauce. Though not as spicy as chopped chili sauce, it had a pungent fragrance developed over time and could remove fishiness while enhancing flavor.

The preparation was similar to the later generation’s chopped chili fish head. The fish head was split in half, first marinated with salt, yellow wine, and ginger juice for flavor, placed skin-side up in the dish, topped with minced ginger and prickly ash sauce, and steamed over boiling water for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, then sprinkled with minced garlic and chopped scallions, and finally dressed with hot Sichuan pepper oil.

Fish head prepared this way was pungent and tender, offering a different taste compared to fish head and tofu in a clay pot – perhaps comparable to the difference between a spicy girl and a gentle lady?

Master Li clearly appreciated the “spicy girl” style, and Uncle Chu didn’t mind either, but Young Master Lin, after one bite, though his face remained neutral, Shen Shaoguang noticed he drained a full cup of his drink.

It seemed Young Master Lin preferred the “gentle lady” type.

Shen Shaoguang had Yuan refill their drinking cups, while she went to the kitchen to bring three small bowls of duck soup, saying, “In the height of summer heat, please have some duck soup to dispel the dampness.”

The duck soup had only tiny spots of oil on top, with a few pieces of duck meat, winter melon chunks peeled and slightly greenish, two red dates, and three or four wolfberries, served in small white porcelain soup bowls, looking very attractive.

Lin Yan glanced at her, took a spoonful of winter melon, and put it in his mouth. The heat from the fish earlier finally subsided, and the corners of his eyes turned up slightly.

“None of the young ladies I’ve known have such culinary skills as Miss,” Chu Di took a sip of soup and smiled at Shen Shaoguang.

Shen Shaoguang smiled matter-of-factly and replied, “I make my living from this, practice makes perfect.”

Chu Di nodded silently.

Lin Yan looked at the sweat-dampened hair at her temples, thought of the pampered young ladies, and suddenly felt a pang in his heart – ah, my Aji…

Shen Shaoguang bowed again and withdrew with her tray.

Li Yue also felt it inappropriate for Chu Di to compare a tavern keeper’s daughter with young ladies. Thinking of young ladies reminded him of trying to match Lin Yan with the Qin family’s Fifth Miss. Now Miss Qin was betrothed to the grandson of the Marquis of Xinyang. Though Lin and Qin would have made a fine match, it wasn’t meant to be.

Li Yue didn’t blame Lin Yan but rather admired his loyalty to old memories and steadfastness. He smiled and said, “Speaking of young ladies, Anran is of age now, it’s time to think about marriage.”

Lin Yan glanced toward the blue curtain of the kitchen and smiled slightly, “Yes, Grandmother is already looking into matches.”

Hearing that the Lin family matriarch was handling the matter, Li Yue naturally didn’t say more.

Chu Di, sitting directly across from Lin Yan, raised an eyebrow slightly and looked again at Young Master Lin, then picked up his soup bowl and scooped up a piece of winter melon to eat. He might be suitable for those two bamboo trees, but for others – perhaps too bland?

Author’s Note:

① From “The Peony Pavilion.” I’ve been hesitant about whether to annotate such famous works.

② At that time, there were many restrictions on slaughtering cattle. Healthy working cattle couldn’t be killed, and slaughtering sick or old cattle required official procedures. Here’s an example from the Song Dynasty: “Those who wish to butcher sick cattle must submit a petition and receive official approval, to prevent unauthorized slaughter.” (Yi Jian Zhi, Volume 5)

Lin Yan: My Aji is working too hard, it pains my heart…

Shen Shaoguang: Young Master Lin, what’s your name? What’s my name?

Lin Yan: …