Summer had arrived, bringing sweltering heat that set Shen Shaoguang experimenting with refreshing beverages. In this dynasty, drinks were prized not for thirst-quenching, but for medicinal and health benefits. Tea was gaining popularity, yogurt whey and sugarcane juice had their admirers, but none could match the subtle allure of carefully brewed refreshments.
Shen Shaoguang’s first choice was a sour plum drink, followed by jasmine tea, mung bean soup, and mint honey drink. Among them, the sour plum drink held a special place in her heart. She boiled dark plums, hawthorn, dried tangerine peel, and licorice, then added sugar-preserved osmanthus flowers. Drawing from knowledge in her previous life, she used white sugar instead of honey for the osmanthus—a small change that elevated the drink to perfection.
Though ice was expensive in the market, she used cool well water from the temple to give the drinks a refreshing chill. Abbess Yuanjue, tasting Shen Shaoguang’s creation, could not help praising it.
“In the previous dynasty, Master Chou made five-colored drinks—green, red, white, dark, and yellow—but none compare to your dark plum drink,” the abbess said, sipping the beverage with delight.
Shen Shaoguang smiled, confident in the recipe refined over a thousand years. She also prepared jasmine tea, mung bean soup, and mint honey drink for tasting, and shared her plan: selling refreshments along Qujiang River during the Dragon Boat Festival.
Though Abbess Yuanjue was a nun, her scholarly instincts surfaced. “Too many varieties might overshadow the plum drink. Serve the plum drink and perhaps the jasmine tea,” she advised. Shen Shaoguang agreed; her jasmine tea lacked the depth she remembered from her past life, yet it matched the abbess’s refined palate.
With careful preparation, she made large jars of plum drink with ice and set up a tea stove for fresh jasmine tea. Yuanjue, no longer shy of profit, helped plan the setup and even offered guidance on pairing foods. Zongzi, naturally, were part of the festival fare—both sweet and savory varieties, complemented by freshly made ai wowo (mugwort cakes).
On the festival morning, Shen Shaoguang loaded her donkey cart with ingredients, steaming pots, and folded tables, heading from Chongxian Ward to Qujiang. She arrived early, securing a prime spot near the riverbank with shade, natural seating, and a view of the bustling main road.
As steam rose from the zongzi and the kettle whistled, visitors began arriving. Passersby were drawn to her elegant stall, different from the usual street vendors, and her refreshments sold like wildfire. The visually appealing ai wowo and cold, sweet-and-sour plum drink were particularly popular, though her refined jasmine tea found few takers—its sophistication likely lost on the summer crowd.
Shen Shaoguang worried about the melting ice but kept selling. Two scholar-types lamented missing the emperor at the dragon boat races, and she mused about the potential for advertising: “The Sage’s Plum Drink” or “Imperial Ai Wowo,” a clever twist on palace cuisine branding.
A military officer approached, curious. “What kind of drink is this?”
“It’s a dark plum drink with hawthorn and licorice, iced for the heat,” Shen Shaoguang replied, offering a free sample. Impressed, the officer bought the entire remaining stock, sending his soldiers to carry it away. By noon, the plum drink alone had earned five to six thousand coins—nearly two months’ profit from pancakes.
High spirits renewed, Shen Shaoguang continued her work, preparing more ai wowo. Glancing at a nearby pavilion, she spotted familiar faces, including Second Young Lady Pang, and the festival buzz continued around her.
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