The late spring dawn broke over Chang'an. As the Morning Drum neared its end, the gates to the Chongxian Ward were crowded with courtiers, merchants, and errand-runners, all waiting for the curfew to lift.
Amidst the familiar stalls—Zhao Ba's wontons, Qiu Da's flatbreads, and Lu Sanniang's fried dough twists—a new vendor had appeared. It was Shen Shaoguang: a striking young woman with almond eyes and fair skin, albeit a touch slender.
Her setup was refined: a charcoal stove with a flat iron griddle, and a small bamboo rack holding white ceramic bowls filled with sauces. She was selling a type of savory pancake.
She quickly oiled the griddle, poured a spoonful of batter, and spread it thin with a scraper. She cracked an egg over the bubbling surface, flipped the pancake, brushed on a savory, spicy sauce, sprinkled it with fresh scallions and cilantro, wrapped it around a crispy fried dough twist, and folded it. Crucially, she used a small spatula to slide the finished pancake into a coarse bamboo paper bag—a touch of luxury that spoke of hygiene and convenience.
The price: ten coins. Not cheap, but justifiable.
The first customer took a bite. The pancake was fragrant and soft, the fried dough twist inside was crispy, and the sauce was a perfect blend of savory and spicy. Delicious. Word spread quickly. Soon, the stall was surrounded, with even nobles in carriages sending their servants to buy.
The Deputy Chief's Observation
Lin Yan, the Deputy Chief of the Capital, lifted the gauze curtain of his carriage window. He saw the commotion and the woman at the center of it. The foreign-style clothing, the hair in loops, the faint smile... Wasn't that the palace maid released just a few days ago?
Swallows that once nested in the halls of kings and nobles now flit happily through the streets and alleys...
His blue-green clad servant approached the window, offering the customary, almost theatrical, question: "A Lang hasn’t eaten breakfast yet. Shall I buy some pastries?"
"...Very well," Lin Yan replied, his voice unexpectedly calm. "Buy a few more." He quickly lowered the curtain.
The servant paused, perplexed by the request—his master never ate street food—but then looked at the pancake seller and hurried over, understanding dawning in his eyes.
Inside the carriage, Lin Yan pressed his fingers to his aching temples. The impending drought was heavy on his mind, and the Emperor's prayer-for-rain procession today meant dealing with the arrogant Imperial Guard commander, Qin Xiang. The current stability of the capital's food prices was reassuring, but the fear-mongering rumors about the "river beast" were a persistent headache.
When the ward gates finally opened after the three thousand drumbeats, the servant returned with several paper bags.
"A Lang, eat them while they're hot."
"You can divide them among yourselves." Lin Yan tapped the carriage wall, signaling the driver to move forward.
The blue-clad servant froze, glancing from the swaying curtain back to the young woman's stall. Was I mistaken? he wondered.
Strategy and Sneers
With the morning rush cleared, Shen Shaoguang packed up. Her breakfast business was positioned as a "mid-to-high-end" option: premium ingredients (egg, refined sauces), better hygiene (paper bags), and catering to a neighborhood with spending power.
Her trial run was a success. She weighed her earnings: after costs, she had made about eighty or ninety coins. At this rate, she could earn over two thousand coins a month—enough to live on, but far from her goal of buying property in Chang'an.
As she pulled her cart back to the Luminous Nunnery, she was intercepted by the guest prefect, Jing Ci, waiting at the gate.
Jing Ci eyed the cart's small stove with thinly veiled disdain. "Young Lady Shen has been quite busy this morning, hasn't she?"
Shen Shaoguang smiled cheerfully. "Yes, just getting some fresh air."
"Fresh air," Jing Ci sneered inwardly. She had been engaging in vulgar commerce! This street vending tarnished the nunnery's dignity. She immediately sought out Jingqing.
"That Shen Xiao Niangzi was actually selling pancakes on the street! It's utterly improper. Senior Sister, you must inform the Abbot and have her expelled."
Jingqing coughed awkwardly. "You forget—she's paid rent..."
"So what? Just return it."
"It's not that simple," Jingqing reasoned patiently. "If word gets out that we broke our agreement, it could harm the nunnery's reputation."
The word "reputation" sobered Jing Ci. "Fine," she relented. "Let her stay the full three months."
Jingqing was internally amused, remembering how Shen Shaoguang had quoted Confucius to the Abbot just days before: "If wealth were a pursuit one could count on, I would do it even as a whip-holding servant." The Abbot, while devouring the noodles, had praised Shaoguang for embodying the Master's teachings.
The Abbot has no principles when it comes to good food, Jingqing thought. Forget three months—at this rate, she might soon allow Shen to open an eatery right here in the nunnery.
Jing Ci, still grumbling, concluded, "How could a noble lady stoop to such a trade? She must be a fake aristocrat!"
If Shaoguang had heard her, she would have scoffed. In her past life's history, even the last Emperor had to humble himself. A true entrepreneur knows that survival tastes better than pride.
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