On the night of the Duanwu festival, lanterns glowed and fragrance drifted along the Qinhuai River. Near the training ground where the courtesan pageant had just concluded, the hall set up for the courtesan banquet blazed with light, packed to capacity.
This banquet numbered somewhere around three or four hundred guests, opening under the presidency of Prefect Liu, beginning with a brief song-and-dance performance before the four leading courtesans made their entrances in turn, offering thanks and taking their seats — a fixed routine, both dazzling and formal. Various notable figures and scholars filled the hall; naturally seated at the very front were the truly renowned officials and men of letters, followed by the merchants who had supported the pageant, such as Puyang Yi and Su Tan’er, seated toward the front. Gu Yanzhen, meanwhile, sat somewhat further back in the middle section, chatting idly with Shen Miao, occasionally glancing toward the front rows or turning to look at the trees outside the hall.
Before long, once the formal greetings had been exchanged, Yuan Jin’er, now seated, appeared to notice something and turned with a smile to say something to the prefect beside her. Gu Yanzhen laughed as well, turning to Shen Miao. “Zishan, look — the show’s about to begin.”
Yuan Jin’er and Yunzhu being close friends, Gu Yanzhen had already more or less anticipated what was coming, feeling rather pleased with his own foresight. Sure enough, what Yuan Jin’er pointed to with a smile was precisely the shelled century egg on the table. “How interesting, and pretty too — Lord Liu, what exactly is this?”
Prefect Liu had probably never eaten such a thing before, but since he was presiding over this banquet, he had naturally inquired about it beforehand, and now said with a smile, “This is a century egg, also known as a fortune egg or jade egg. Miss Yuan, look at how the pattern within resembles pine branches — pine winds carry a noble purity, and since this is a courtesan banquet, with all manner of wealthy and eminent guests present, jade signifies peace and safety — it’s truly a fitting dish of the highest order for tonight’s occasion.”
An official’s mouth being what it was, having been given these names — pine blossom, fortune, jade — Prefect Liu proceeded to elaborate at length, drawing out further associations. Little did he know that Yuan Jin’er, one of the four leading courtesans seated beside him, was shamelessly playing the shill, drawing these very words out of his mouth. Everything proceeding smoothly, Jin’er felt rather pleased with herself, and glanced back toward outside the hall.
Waiting there, Nie Yunzhu smiled and waved back, her heart racing with excitement. She certainly didn’t have the money to recruit the prefect himself as a shill, but over these past two months, under Ning Yi’s guidance, she had spent her time cultivating connections and setting up exactly this kind of scenario — using the prefect’s own words tonight to genuinely establish the century egg’s reputation. Though she’d been somewhat put out during the pageant over “Ning Yi supporting Qilan,” Yuan Jin’er was still putting in real effort now. Flashing a charming smile, she picked up the century egg. “Since Lord Liu has explained such meaningful symbolism, Jin’er simply must try one — how should it properly be eaten?”
A simple enough advertising tactic — the longer the attention of those present lingered on the century egg, the better the effect. Yuan Jin’er kept the conversation going. Just then, an elderly man beside her raised a hand. “Just a moment.”
Both Yuan Jin’er and Prefect Liu paused, startled, as the old man spoke. “I wonder where Lord Liu procured these century eggs. This old one happens to know a little about how they’re made — during preparation, lime is added, and if the proportion is off, it can become toxic…”
This was entirely unexpected. Yuan Jin’er kept up her smile while cursing inwardly — what a needless meddler — but given the old man’s evidently eminent standing, all she could do was smile through it and see what happened next. Behind her, Gu Yanzhen, who had been watching Yuan Jin’er’s performance, felt a flash of understanding, and couldn’t help letting out a laugh. “Well, this is something — someone’s throwing a wrench into it midway. This one won’t be easy to handle.”
Outside the hall, among the trees, Nie Yunzhu hadn’t anticipated anything like this happening either, and froze for a moment in shock. But upon getting a good look at the elderly speaker’s face, she turned to look toward Ning Yi inside the hall. By now, some guests who had already begun eating the century eggs put down their chopsticks upon hearing this, all except Ning Yi, who continued dipping a piece in soy sauce and popping it into his mouth as though nothing were happening, until his wife Su Tan’er snatched the egg away from him in annoyance. Watching this, Nie Yunzhu couldn’t help laughing, a faint ache in her heart all the same.
Inside the hall, the elderly man smiled.
“There’s really no need for excessive worry. Preparing dishes with lime-water seasoning is common enough practice across many cuisines — used properly, it can even promote saliva production and appetite, even offer certain health benefits. It’s just that those other dishes have been prepared for a long time now, with established methods, leaving little room for error. But this century egg is something quite new this year. This old one has already tried it before — the genuine article comes only from Zhuji’s century eggs, the very ones that developed this recipe, making it a fine dish worthy of such a banquet. Since it’s only recently appeared, though, I hear imitations have already begun showing up in the marketplace. This old one merely worries that if such imitations are made improperly, the eggs might not only fail to promote health but could actually cause harm — in which case they’d hardly deserve to be called pine-blossom, fortune, or jade eggs at all, ha ha…”
Halfway through his words, Yuan Jin’er’s mouth had fallen slightly open, and behind her, Gu Yanzhen froze as well. Prefect Liu hurriedly sent someone to inquire, and when the steward reported back, Prefect Liu laughed heartily. “These eggs were indeed purchased from Zhuji.”
Hearing this, the elderly man smiled and nodded. “Then there’s no cause for concern.” He picked up the century egg in front of him and placed it in his bowl. Someone across from him remarked with a smile, “Your Excellency’s knowledge runs deep — who would have thought you’d know so much even about matters of food and drink.” The elderly man, addressed as “Your Excellency,” laughed heartily. “This is no idle boast on this old one’s part — since youth I’ve harbored the ambition of a true gourmand, having traveled to every famous mountain in the realm, tasting all manner of delicacies. When it comes to matters of the palate, this old one ranks himself second to none — you’ll find no one ahead of me!”
He began eating the century egg, and no one else harbored any further doubts. The prefect, for his part, promptly picked up a century egg himself to set an example — having said so much already, if it later turned out the dishes at his banquet weren’t genuine, he’d lose considerable face, so naturally he needed to demonstrate that “there could be no fakes at my banquet,” and went on to praise the century egg further still.
Inside the hall, Kang Xian and Ning Yi exchanged a glance that said, “You owe me one.” Outside, Nie Yunzhu let out a sigh, gazing up at the river of stars in the sky, and laughed. Looking back inside, she saw Ning Yi eating as though nothing at all had happened. A little further back, Gu Yanzhen frowned. “Who would have thought he’d already have such a rumor circulating…” Naturally, he had no idea of Ning Yi’s connection to Kang Xian, and simply assumed the rumor had happened to reach Kang Xian’s ears on its own.
Beside him, Shen Miao sighed, then laughed. “Yanzhen, it seems you’re going to lose that ten taels ahead of schedule after all.”
In this era, information didn’t travel quickly, spreading mostly by word of mouth — but this also meant there was little noise to muddy what people actually heard. The century egg episode at the courtesan banquet was merely a small aside, but it was bound to spread through Jiangning at remarkable speed afterward; from now on, whenever anyone mentioned century eggs, this story would inevitably come up. And with Kang Xian’s endorsement, it seemed that for the time being only Zhuji’s century eggs could rightfully be called “century eggs” at all — none of the others would be entitled to call themselves fortune or jade eggs. The livelihood of anyone hoping to profit from imitations had, in the short term, been thoroughly cut off; even a price war would pose no threat to Zhuji now.
Toward the end of the banquet, word was passed along through one of the women present that someone in the eastern part of the city had reportedly suffered mild poisoning symptoms a couple of days earlier, possibly from eating a counterfeit century egg — a claim half true, half fabricated, impossible to verify either way. Not long after, a newly appointed manager whom Nie Yunzhu had hired came forward, full of apparent trepidation, saying that his employer, worried about counterfeit eggs harming people, was willing to release the authentic recipe and proportions to the authorities, to be made public to the imitation workshops. Prefect Liu waved a hand decisively. “Such workshops, stealing others’ achievements while disregarding people’s safety — why extend them any such favor! Shut them down at once!”
In truth, there was only one workshop at the time actually producing imitation century eggs. Ning Yi had known all along that the recipe couldn’t stay secret for long, so Zhuji had never made much effort to keep it confidential in the first place — in fact, he’d deliberately let the recipe leak so that others could produce their own century eggs before the Duanwu festival, timed to coincide with this very performance. Otherwise, if someone later got sick from eating a century egg and the blame landed on Zhuji, the consequences could prove quite troublesome. What Prefect Liu shut down was a small workshop earning less than a tael a day — a minor bit of theater in itself, one that earned him praise at just such a banquet. Had imitation century eggs already become a widespread industry by this point, he likely wouldn’t have acted so decisively.
By this point, the groundwork had already been laid sufficiently; everything else could simply proceed the next day.
At the banquet, there was one small incident concerning Ning Yi’s table, arising from the fact that Su Tan’er recognized the century egg.
“The first time husband ever gave me one of these to eat — did you make it yourself?”
“Came up with it by accident, and just gave it away.”
“But you gave it to a friend, didn’t you?” Su Tan’er said with a smile. “I know all about it.”
“Hm?”
“Li Pin, or was it Gu Yanzhen… in any case, that’s how it got out, isn’t it?”
Hearing the name Gu Yanzhen, Ning Yi looked faintly puzzled. Su Tan’er went on. “I saw this dish somewhere before and remembered you’d given it to me that day, so I asked around a bit. The story of that Gu Yanzhen using century eggs to win over some pleasure-house woman’s favor has already spread all through town — quite the devoted romantic, really. Husband did him a good turn without meaning to, which is a fine thing in itself… though, well, having something of yours attributed to someone else does leave me feeling a bit uncomfortable…”
The Su family could hardly be pleased with Ning Yi going off to dabble in business, let alone running some sort of food stall, so Su Tan’er simply assumed her husband had made the eggs and given them away out of consideration for the family’s difficult position regarding such matters. Ning Yi, naturally, had been vague about the whole thing at the time, and it made little difference to him whether credit went to someone else. He found this whole misunderstanding rather amusing in a wordless sort of way — and since Gu Yanzhen happened to be seated some distance behind them, had he been seated closer and heard Su Tan’er speak of this “touching tale,” who knew whether he might have coughed up blood on the spot.
The next day, a small shop bearing the sign “Zhuji,” carefully decorated and fitted out, opened for business at a fairly quiet intersection in Jiangning. Nie Yunzhu had hired a well-regarded chef, with signature dishes built around century eggs — things like century-egg-and-lean-pork congee had already been perfected, along with various other dishes. Ning Yi had contributed only a few simple concepts to the mix; this wasn’t yet an era of impersonal, distant relationships, so a strictly efficient, fast-food-style operation wouldn’t do — far better to give people a sense of warmth and familiarity, like coming home. And the chef himself was thoroughly professional and skilled — his renditions of the various century-egg dishes turned out immeasurably better than anything Ning Yi and Nie Yunzhu had managed through their own trial and error.
The number of small carts sent out daily to sell century eggs had grown to four, named after “Plum, Orchid, Chrysanthemum, Bamboo,” each painted with images that, to Gu Yanzhen’s eye, would have looked rather crude and workmanlike. They roamed all over Jiangning each day, and anyone spending a certain amount at these carts could receive an amusing little wooden token; collecting all four different patterns entitled the holder to a twenty or ten percent discount at the main shop.
Among the restaurants helping to sell the century eggs, an elegant wooden plaque reading “Zhuji Century Eggs” now hung as a mark of authenticity, working in tandem with the rumors from the pageant to quietly build up word of mouth.
Though some planning had gone into all this, it hadn’t taken a great deal of effort on Ning Yi’s part — to him, these were all fairly casual arrangements. His attention wasn’t fixed on the merchants trying to compete with Zhuji for business, nor on the relatives trying to wrest power away from Su Tan’er, nor on the many scholars and men of talent throughout Jiangning. As for Gu Yanzhen — he didn’t even know the man yet.
Before dawn the next day, he jogged down to the Qinhuai riverside as usual and found Nie Yunzhu, her face flushed, waiting at the small building. With the shop opening today, she’d already been waiting for him for quite some time. She had him raise a hand, and after biting her lip and steeling herself, finally lifted her own slender, fair right hand and gave his palm a light tap, then broke into an unguardedly bright grin.
Watching Ning Yi smile back at her, she thought he probably didn’t understand what she was feeling, but however that might be, they were both smiling, and that was enough. Such a high-five was a bit forward of her, but she’d genuinely wanted to do it once, her heart pounding all the while. Two months earlier, Gu Yanzhen had once grasped her hand, and she’d slapped him and rushed off to wash her hands — the memory of that touch had left her feeling sick, as though it could never quite be washed away.
She’d thought, at the time, how nice it would have been if Liheng had been there — but the next day, seeing him again, she still hadn’t been able to summon the courage. Only now, finally, had she managed this small touch of palms, and it felt, somehow, like she’d accomplished something significant — much like this shop opening today had taken on a new meaning of its own.
Ning Yi, for his part, thought nothing much of the light high-five. That morning, he caught sight of one of the century-egg carts passing by on the road across the way, and thought of Nie Yunzhu’s efforts. But he had other matters to attend to as well.
He picked out a pair of shoes at a nearby shoe shop, then headed toward the schoolhouse with breakfast in hand.
That morning, in the city of Jiangning, a woman named Su Tan’er climbed into her carriage to oversee the now-considerable business under her management; on the other side of the city, a woman named Nie Yunzhu pushed open the first door panel of her small new shop; and amid the crowds, Ning Yi, small bundle in hand, went off to engage with the things that genuinely interested him…
The sixth day of the fifth month, in the eighth year of the Jinghan era of the Wu dynasty — a city seemingly brimming with vigor and hope, everything just beginning.
Ning Yi pushed open the courtyard gate, and heard the sound of the wind chime drifting toward him…