Chapter 4: The Gourmet Griddle and the Shy Official
After several days of practice, Shen Shaoguang's pancake-making skills were reaching a masterful level.
She could now crack an egg one-handed with graceful precision, sending the yolk and white tumbling onto the griddle without a single stray piece of shell. With a flick of her wrist, the shell would land neatly in the nearby bucket—pure flair. Flipping the pancake was also a single-handed feat, rarely resulting in a tear. Even scattering the scallions was done with swift accuracy, giving her a sense of smooth, practiced control.
Her business was thriving. Beyond her regulars, new faces arrived daily, and servants from wealthy households were now sent to buy on their masters' behalf.
"My mistress really likes your pancakes," a cheerful little maid chatted one morning. "She tried making them herself but couldn't quite get the same taste. She said your sauce is especially good. What’s in it?"
Shen Shaoguang smiled. "I'm right here at the neighborhood entrance every day. If she likes it, she can just come by. Why bother making it herself?" The little maid tilted her head, nodded in agreement, and accepted the logic.
Not all customers, however, were interested only in food. "What’s your family name, miss?" "Where are you from, miss?" Such probing questions usually came from local merchants or flirtatious servants. Shen Shaoguang, instead of showing annoyance, would simply raise an eyebrow, flash a smile, and ask, "Spicy sauce or sweet sauce?" Her tactful, firm rebuff usually sent the would-be suitors retreating; it was hard to lose your temper at a smiling young woman.
Compared to the clumsy pick-up lines of her past life, she wasn't the least bit offended.
The Shy Official
Today’s admirer, however, was different. He wasn't slick or charming; he seemed genuinely shy. A tall young man in the light blue robes of a ninth-rank official, his voice had a slight adolescent crack, and his face was lightly pockmarked. He reminded Shen Shaoguang of the awkward boys from her university days.
A wave of nostalgia for that lost, past life washed over her. Moved by the feeling, she gave him extra patience. "Of course, this batter isn't just plain flour. Plain flour sticks to the roof of your mouth—you'd need fire chopsticks to pry it loose while eating."
The young man blinked, then burst out laughing.
Shen Shaoguang smiled back. "Spicy sauce or sweet sauce?"
Unsure, or perhaps to please her, he ordered one of each, thanked her with a shy smile, packed them carefully into a portable leather pouch, and left.
The next day, he returned, ordering five pancakes at once.
Are you really treating this like college, buying breakfast for your whole dorm? Shen Shaoguang thought, but swiftly prepared three spicy and two sweet sets. She joked, "If you buy ten, I’ll throw in one extra."
The young man looked at her shyly, licked his lips, and said, "Thank you." His sincere reaction made her feel a little guilty for teasing him.
On the third day, though he didn't order ten, he bought seven. Shen Shaoguang could only hope he was acting as a breakfast courier; a ninth-rank official's salary wouldn't last long at this rate.
The Capital Office's New Craze
Inside the Jingzhao Prefecture office, several young officials happily munched on their breakfast.
"Thank goodness for Clerk Liu, or we’d be working on empty stomachs," said one. Young officials, prone to late nights, often slept late and rushed to work without eating.
Liu Feng, the records clerk—the shy young man—lived nearby. When he first bought an extra flatbread, his ravenous colleagues devoured it, and the egg pancake wrapped around the fried dough twists became an instant hit. Clerk Liu had unwittingly begun a side career as the office's breakfast deliveryman.
"This spicy one really hits the spot. Liu San, bring me an extra one next time."
"The real charm lies in the presentation," another official mused. "When have you ever seen street food served in paper bags? Look—there's a small seal with the character 'Shen' in seal script at the corner."
A scholarly-looking young man carefully smoothed out his bag. "Elegant yet robust, quite unlike the contemporary style. It bears some resemblance to the style of the late Junior Supervisor Li."
The others, though not calligraphy experts, examined their own bags. One chuckled, "I detect a hint of feminine delicacy. Could the engraver be a young lady?"
Everyone laughed. Liu Feng flushed slightly, his eyes flickering with confusion.
The laughter died abruptly when the Capital Governor, Bai Jingshan, and Vice Governor, Lin Yan, approached. They quickly bowed as the high officials passed. The junior officials exchanged knowing glances, wolfed down their food, and hurried back to work.
Governor Bai smiled. "That smells rather enticing. What are the youngsters eating?"
Lin Yan, recognizing the now-familiar morning aroma, replied mildly, "Likely just pastries or flatbreads."
"In my youth, I too gnawed on sesame flatbreads," Governor Bai reminisced. "Young people always seem sleep-deprived and perpetually hungry. Yet I've never seen An Ran in such straits. Perhaps you've no taste for street fare?"
"This humble official's palate is dull, indiscriminate of flavors," Lin Yan replied with a faint smile. "Food serves merely to fill the stomach."
Governor Bai laughed heartily. "An Ran comes from a family accustomed to lavish feasts—no doubt your tongue was spoiled early."
Lin Yan offered a quiet, unreadable smile in response.
Envy and the Engraver
The morning rush ended, and Shen Shaoguang began her methodical cleanup, wiping down the counter and griddle.
Lu Sanniang, who sold fried dough twists, approached with a grin. "Business is booming for you, Ah Shen."
Shen Shaoguang glanced up with a smile. "That's only because of your excellent fried twists, Madam Lu."
The twists were essentially the crispy, arm-ring-shaped dough wafers of the time. Shen Shaoguang had convinced Madam Lu to fry something thinner and crispier—similar to later-generation wafers—to use in her pancakes. It had required some mutual adaptation of recipes, but the result was delicious.
Lu Sanniang, though envious of Shen Shaoguang's booming trade, couldn't complain since her own sales of dough twists had increased. Now, she couldn't resist teasing. "No matter how well I fry my dough twists, that young gentleman doesn't come to buy them every day!"
Shen Shaoguang paused, feigning deep thought. "Oh? Then it must truly be because my pancakes are that good."
Madam Lu snorted. "Keep pretending."
Once everything was packed up, Qiu Da, the sesame flatbread seller, helped her lift the stove onto the small cart. Shen thanked him politely, and he nodded awkwardly, walking away.
Lu Sanniang sighed inwardly—youth and beauty truly had their advantages. She reminisced: Back in my day, there were those who ate fried dough twists three times a day just to catch a glimpse of me.
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