Shen Shaoguang stood before the Abbot, her chin slightly tucked, her posture a reserved smile. She was projecting an image of "dignity even in disgrace," and it worked. The receptionist nun, Jing Ci, was momentarily intimidated before leading her to the Abbot.
The Abbot, a woman in her fifties or sixties with a round, kindly face, asked, "Shen—could you be a lady of the Luoyang Shen clan?"
Shen Shaoguang smiled ruefully. "I shame my ancestors. Best not to mention it."
The Abbot nodded, confirming her suspicion. "No wonder your bearing is so refined."
Accepting the compliment, Shaoguang found the Abbot to be genuinely easygoing. When she requested lodging, the Abbot agreed without a second thought. Despite the warm offer, Shaoguang insisted on paying three months' rent upfront. "Your kindness is appreciated, but I cannot disregard propriety."
"Since the young lady insists on keeping things fair, so be it," the Abbot smiled.
Shaoguang felt a slight embarrassment at her own "petty caution"—it wasn't about fairness, but security. "Renting" felt far more stable than "borrowing." As there were no other guests, she was allotted two spacious and well-lit main rooms.
To express her gratitude, Shen Shaoguang personally prepared a bowl of Multicolored Broad Noodles for the Abbot.
The dish was deceptively simple, yet labor-intensive. She pounded malva greens and perilla leaves for green and purple, mixed in yellow rice flour and sesame powder for two more colors, and used plain wheat flour for the last. To preserve the vibrant hues, each of the five types of noodles was cooked in a separate pot. The real magic was in the broth: she simmered mountain mushrooms to create a rich, savory aroma—a meat-like depth from amino acids that harmonized the distinct flavors of the different noodles.
The Abbot had already eaten dinner, but the visual appeal was irresistible.
"Malva greens, perilla, yellow rice... ah, the sesame is the most fragrant..." The Abbot's palate was clearly discerning. Her personal disciple, Jingqing, pursed her lips, noting that the Abbot had just vowed to practice moderation that very morning.
The bowl of noodles sparked the Abbot's enthusiasm. She recounted all the regional noodles she’d tasted: the pepper-loaded lamb broth noodles of the northwest, the light shepherd’s purse noodles of Hangzhou, the soy-braised sparrow meat noodles of Hebei, and the cold shrimp roe noodles of Chang'an.
Shaoguang listened with delight. The Abbot was well-traveled, and more importantly, she ate meat! This meant Shaoguang wouldn't have to abstain while staying at the nunnery.
To keep the conversation flowing, Shaoguang contributed her own critique. "Whether food is delicious depends on the season, the place, and the person."
She elaborated: "Eating cold noodles in winter lacks satisfaction—that’s seasonal appropriateness. Mutton noodles are too heavy for Hangzhou, and shepherd's purse is too bland for the northwest—that’s regional differences. Scholars may prefer mandarin fish with their cold noodles, but common folk would find pork braise more flavorful—that’s personal preference."
She had elevated the discussion to a theoretical level.
The Abbot clapped her hands and laughed heartily. "Marvelous! What we’ve discussed is enough to write a 'Classic of Noodles.'"
Shaoguang flattered her further, comparing her potential work to Lu Yu's Classic of Tea. Suddenly, the Abbot, spurred by the praise and a worldly urge, genuinely decided to write it.
Jingqing, the disciple, smiled with half-resignation and half-indulgence. Her master had finally found a kindred spirit in this well-spoken, food-loving guest.
Not long after Shaoguang returned to her room, Jingqing and Jing Ci arrived, bearing a pot of peony and one of jasmine—a return gift for the noodles.
"Sister," Jing Ci said to Jingqing as they left, "even if this Lady Shen is descended from the Luoyang Shen clan, she must be a withered branch, reduced to dire straits. Why does the Abbot treat her with such courtesy?" Jing Ci noted the spartan room as proof of Shaoguang’s poverty.
Unwilling to admit the bond was forged over gluttony, Jingqing simply attributed it to the master's compassion, while Jing Ci shook her head, dismissing it as the undeniable advantage of a prestigious surname.
Now settled in the Luminous Nunnery in Chongxian Ward, Shen Shaoguang began executing her grand plan to enter the food business.
Her first task was thorough market research. Waking with the nuns at the first beat of the dawn drum, she tucked a few coins into her sleeve and headed out before the streets were truly busy.
She found a young man selling Sesame Flatbread—hot, crispy-crusted bread seasoned with pepper and salt for just three coins. Further on, another vendor prepared Broad Noodles. She stopped at a slightly larger eatery and ordered a ten-coin bowl of Mutton Soup, breaking her flatbread into it to eat. The soup was rich, perhaps a bit too gamey, but flavorful.
For two days, she followed the same routine, sampling different foods, noting prices, ingredients, and customer traffic.
Once her survey was complete, she made up her mind. She purchased her necessary utensils and ingredients, nearly exhausting her precious savings.
The time for research was over. The time to cook and survive had begun.
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