Chapter 9
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Protagonist:
Song Miao
This "Fu" character is actually embedded inside!
Or rather, the filling inside forms a "Fu" character.
Such exquisite craftsmanship — anyone seeing it for the first time would have to look twice!
The pastry's skin is glutinous, but because it's an especially thin layer, it doesn't stick to the teeth and can be easily bitten through.
The filling inside has distinct layers, each with its own flavor, yet those flavors paired together are remarkably harmonious — light, sweet, yet not cloyingly so, making one unable to help wanting to eat just a bit more.
Zhu Shi couldn't stop once she started eating, sampling three or four in a row, and couldn't help praising: "Who would have thought the Song family's young lady has such skill? I'd say it can even compare with De Xian Ju's Eight Immortals Cake!"
Hearing the three words "De Xian Ju," Sun Lizheng sneered: "You're praising her too much. What tier is De Xian Ju? She's just a little girl."
Zhu Shi hmphed and said: "Then don't eat it! What are you fighting me for — this whole box is almost eaten up by you!"
Sun Lizheng shut his mouth at once.
Zhu Shi added: "If you had to choose, De Xian Ju's bought ones or Song Xiaoniangzi's homemade, which would you pick?"
Sun Lizheng went quiet for a moment, then couldn't help muttering: "Then I'd still pick the Song family's. De Xian Ju is so expensive!"
Besides, he'd eaten De Xian Ju's things before; delicious they naturally were, but no matter how delicious a pastry is, it's still just a pastry — eating it won't make you ascend to heaven.
If he really had to choose, he seemed more willing to eat this Fu Character Cake.
Not greasy, novel and clever, and with an auspicious omen to boot.
How could Zhu Shi not see her husband's stubborn mouth? She simply couldn't be bothered to argue with him. After a thought, she suddenly asked: "Song Xiaoniangzi can embed a 'Fu' character — can she embed other characters?"
Sun Lizheng stared blankly, then asked: "Embed what character? Embed it for what purpose?"
Zhu Shi said: "Can she embed a 'Shou' character? Li Dutou's old mother isn't about to celebrate her birthday soon? Although he's currently at the center of the storm and dares not show his face, sending some pastries, clothes, or the like shouldn't be too much, right?"
Sun Lizheng was immediately tempted.
Earlier, the Capital Prefecture Office got a new Left and Right Army Patrol Judge, a post that oversees public security, interrogation, detention, arrest, and all such matters.
This man, newly in office, burned his "three fires," enforcing discipline with extreme severity; for a time, his subordinates didn't even dare hold banquets openly, and Li Dutou naturally put out word early on, forbidding anyone from coming to give gifts.
But the two families have always been close; at a time like this, if there's not the slightest gesture, it would seem too distant.
Zhu Shi added: "I've already had Second Daughter make a forehead band and shoes, and cut two sets of clothing. When the time comes, adding a few boxes of fruit and pastries will be about right — instead of buying outside, better to ask Song Xiaoniangzi to help make them. The things are pretty and tasty, and it counts as looking after a lone orphan girl."
Seeing her husband still hesitating, she said: "I see she seemed to have proper business to find you today. Anyway, she still has to set up her stall on the street tomorrow morning. You can just mention it when you pass by. If there's truly nothing improper, lending a hand is fine."
Sun Lizheng sighed and said: "Am I really that heartless? But if I go to her door like this, and she asks me to help find a way to keep that ancestral house, or help avoid Wu Yuanwai, how would I answer? How could I help?"
He added: "You think Liao Qingjiao really came to thank me this time? She's hinting at me!"
Zhu Shi instantly fell silent.
Liao Qingjiao and his men have for these years exclusively handled the night soil near Zhuque Gate.
Night soil only sounds filthy; who knows how much profit lies within. To gain a foothold in such a trade, one naturally has already greased palms everywhere and gathered a gang of local ruffians to secure the territory. Moreover, behind them stands Wu Yuanwai as backer.
Though she pities that Song family young lady, she doesn't want to get mixed up in any muddy water. If a moment of kindness drags her whole family in, that would be real trouble.
Sun Lizheng glanced at the food box on the table and finally said: "Forget it. These few days are busy. When I have a spare moment passing by, if she's still there, I'll go ask. If I can help, I'll help; if I can't… sigh, it can only be said her luck is bad."
Still those same words.
In this world, are there few people with bad luck?
Song Miao couldn't see all these circumstances in Sun Lizheng's home.
Because the jujube paste and red bean sand take a lot of time to make, doing just Fu Cakes alone would be too uneconomical, so she made a large batch of filling in one go this morning, with more than half left over. On her way home she conveniently bought some barnyard millet flour and foxtail millet flour, planning to make Huang Bobo.
Huang Bobo isn't hard to make; the trouble lies in the filling. Now that the filling is ready-made, as long as she gets the proportions of the various flours right, a casual knead, no need to even pinch pleats, just steam until cooked.
Only she always feels the scholars of Nanlu Academy and Taixue Li mostly prefer savory flavors, especially with meat, while this Huang Bobo is purely sweet — it might not suit their tastes.
But it doesn't matter. If it really doesn't sell, on the way back she can detour a few more steps toward Baokang Gate. On the east side there are many embroidery workshops and cloth shops.
Near embroidery workshops and cloth shops there are naturally many embroidery women; they often bring their whole families, old and young alike.
Huang Bobo is neither greasy nor sticky, with a soft fluffy texture. Whether for embroidery women, old people, or children, it's perfectly suited as early food — it shouldn't be too hard to sell.
She rushed about half a day, and after returning didn't rest for even a moment, busy preparing ingredients. Only when things were roughly ready was the sky already completely dark. She felt like she'd only just closed her eyes for a blink before she had to get up again.
Waking up, the sky was fully bright. The wind and snow had already stopped. A tangerine-red sun sat perched in a corner of the courtyard, revealing just a tiny half-wheel of its crown — really quite adorable.
Song Miao stood in the courtyard washing up, watching that sun while drawing a deep breath, feeling as if her nose and lungs had been washed clean by the icy air.
Today the weather was very good. She left at the same hour as yesterday. When she reached Food Alley, it was already crowded with people. The original spot was already taken by another family selling pine cakes.
This place is first-come-first-served, so she pushed her cart further in and found a new empty space.
She had just stopped the cart, not yet had time to set up the stall, when Song Miao heard someone ahead call out: "Here she comes! Here she comes! Is it that young lady? She's here!"
She looked up and saw, not far away, clusters of scholars standing. Originally they were just standing, but upon seeing her look at them, their eyes lit up one and all, and they came rushing over like a flock.
"That young lady, are you selling glutinous rice?"
"Song Xiaoniangzi! I ordered five large portions of glutinous rice yesterday, and also five portions of that Chenpi Mung Bean Drink. I don't need your bamboo tube — today I brought my own pot to fill!"
"Hey hey, don't you know first come first served! I was here first!"
"I ordered yesterday already! I'm in a hurry to get back to class!"
"Who isn't in a hurry for class? Just you? Line up! Line up! Where are you from? Haven't you learned manners!"
"You're the one from nowhere! I'm a regular customer!"
"The stall just opened for one day, where do regular customers come from? Regulars don't have to line up? Go to the back!"
A dozen or so scholars, all in their prime, swarmed around — inevitably pushing and shoving, and instantly the air turned tense.
Seeing so many people surrounding her, about to block the thoroughfare, Song Miao swept a glance and hurriedly said to the young man at the very front: "Trouble you, Young Master, could you help me with something? I'll give you a set of breakfast?"
End of Chapter
