Chapter 31: Quiet Reflections in Chang’an

After the Double Ninth Festival passed, Guo Dalang and Li Niangzi had nearly cleared out their remaining goods. With little left to sell, they began packing their belongings and preparing for their journey home.

Shen Shaoguang personally prepared a large box of Flower Cakes and handed it to them.

"If you miss any meal stops on the road, these can tide you over."

Li Niangzi looked down at the delicately crafted pastries, their floral shapes almost too beautiful to touch, and smiled with gentle reluctance.

"I can't bear to eat these on the road. I'll take them home to let the folks there see and taste what the capital has to offer. You won't find such things in the countryside."

She had spent many years in Chang'an longing to leave, yet now that departure had arrived, nostalgia quietly surfaced.

"It's not far. You can always come back for a visit whenever you wish," Shen Shaoguang said, still carrying traces of her past-life “global village” mindset.

Li Niangzi treated it as kind consolation. Holding Shen Shaoguang’s hand, she sighed softly.

"The real loss is not having a good neighbor like you anymore."

Shen Shaoguang laughed lightly.

"But you'll have your daughters and daughters-in-law to attend to you. Living together as a happy family—what could be better?"

Li Niangzi nodded warmly.

"Isn't that what we're all hoping for?"

---

After seeing off her former neighbors, Shen Shaoguang quickly turned her attention to the renovation of the new shop.

She hired masons and carpenters, and because she had already negotiated with the landlord of the old shop to knock down a connecting wall—and renewed the lease for another two years—everything progressed smoothly.

Now that the shop’s income had stabilized, expenses for rent and renovations no longer weighed on her mind.

There was no need to cut corners.

With the old shop serving as the foundation, the new space only needed consistency rather than innovation. The overall design remained simple and practical.

The walls were painted a clean snow-white. Wooden shelves were installed to display small ornaments purchased from the West Market—foreign clay figurines of people and horses, woven grass birds, and horn instruments. A few paintings would be added later to complete the atmosphere.

The new shop retained the same plain wooden dining tables.

Since space was no longer limited, the old wall-facing counter remained untouched. Some guests still preferred sitting alone with a drink, and Shen Shaoguang saw no reason to remove it.

The flooring, however, was fully upgraded.

Previously, bamboo mats had been used, but they proved inconvenient—bamboo strips loosened easily and sometimes poked customers’ feet, and cleaning them was troublesome. Shen Shaoguang had already replaced part of the flooring with foreign rugs, and now the entire space would match.

These rugs were likely woven from mixed wool—camel, cattle, and sheep—with earthy brown tones and hints of white. Their coarse texture resembled rough tweed.

Though exotic in origin, they were not particularly expensive. Compared to luxury carpets, they were modest—but perfectly suited to a small tavern’s atmosphere.

The kitchen was also expanded.

A partition wall separated work areas, while carpenters installed a serving window facing the dining hall. The outward-facing windows remained unchanged.

What delighted Shen Shaoguang most was the small well in the backyard.

No more hauling water from outside. And when summer arrived, the cool well water would make preparing chilled desserts far easier.

---

The backyard residence required even less work.

Li Niangzi had maintained the space well. The floors were already tiled, and the landlord had provided beds and cabinets. Shen Shaoguang only needed to repaint the walls, replace broken tiles, and prepare new curtains and bedding.

The main bedroom and central hall were assigned to Shen Shaoguang and A Yuan, while the smaller side room—connected to the courtyard—was given to Yu San.

On moving day, the abbess Yuanjue personally escorted them to the nunnery gate, accompanied by Jingqing and Jing Ci.

Shen Shaoguang bowed deeply.

When she had first left the palace with nowhere to go, Yuanjue—despite her own poverty—had taken her in with kindness she would never forget.

Yuanjue smiled gently.

Shen Shaoguang suddenly grinned.

"When you finish writing your scripture on flatbreads, I must be allowed to read it."

Yuanjue and Jingqing burst into laughter, while Jing Ci looked displeased.

She had once hoped to persuade the abbess to drive Shen Shaoguang away. Now that Shen Shaoguang was leaving willingly, Jing Ci instead felt strangely slighted—like someone planning a breakup only to be abandoned first.

---

After moving in came several more days of cleaning and arranging.

They made repeated trips to the West Market to purchase supplies. By the time everything settled into order, the weather had noticeably cooled.

One evening, after closing the shop, Shen Shaoguang washed up and read for a while before stepping out into the courtyard in her slippers.

Under the eaves hung rows of curing meats—pork legs, cured strips, and assorted game.

Pointing at them, she asked Yu San, who had just finished washing:

"Why aren’t these meats turning red and firm yet?"

Yu San fetched a bamboo skewer and gently poked the meat.

"Young Mistress, you shouldn’t keep checking on them. Your staring is making them refuse to change."

Shen Shaoguang blinked.

Wait… how is this my fault?

A strange thought surfaced from her past-life knowledge about the “quantum Zeno effect,” and for a moment she actually considered whether constant observation could slow curing.

Seeing her take it seriously, Yu San paused—then suddenly burst into laughter.

Normally he wore a perpetually listless expression, his tone edged with sarcasm. But when he laughed, his face softened completely, revealing unexpected warmth.

Realizing she had been teased, Shen Shaoguang wasn’t annoyed. Instead, she smiled.

"You should laugh more often—it suits you!"

Yu San, embarrassed, ignored her and turned away.

Shen Shaoguang pouted playfully.

Well, she had chosen this tsundere chef herself.

Looking back at the hanging meats, she began imagining future dishes—Honey-Glazed Ham, Gold-and-Silver Trotters, Winter Bamboo Shoots with Ham…

---

Curing and air-drying meat had existed since ancient times. Even Confucius had once accepted dried meat as tuition.

Tang-era people were especially fond of preserved meats. It was said a previous emperor particularly loved dried venison, though the current emperor did not, so palace kitchens rarely prepared it.

Fortunately, Yu San’s former master had been a southern gourmet, giving Yu San experience in curing game.

As for Shen Shaoguang, while her hands-on experience was limited, her theoretical knowledge was extensive.

In her previous life, she had written a feature article on cured hams and even traveled through the Jiangsu-Zhejiang region to interview professional ham makers.

Curing ham required meticulous precision—from selecting pigs of the proper weight to shaping the legs and carefully massaging salt into the meat. The entire process could take months, sometimes years.

She also recalled reading essays by Tang Lusun and Liang Shiqiu, both of whom wrote extensively about food culture.

One story claimed that adding a dog-leg ham during curing enhanced flavor. When Shen Shaoguang asked the ham master she interviewed about it, he had firmly denied the claim—ruining what would have been a colorful detail for her article.

---

Truthfully, Shen Shaoguang hadn’t always liked cured meats.

As a northerner, her family rarely ate them. Once, a relative had gifted her father a so-called authentic ham. It had been cooked improperly—overly greasy and salty—and she had disliked it ever since.

Only later, after beginning her career, did she truly appreciate ham’s depth of flavor.

Compared to fresh meat, cured ham carried the richness of time—much like a refined older gentleman compared to youthful beauty.

Time added nuance.

Wrinkles carried stories.

Smiles held depth.

This reflection naturally led her to think of the many handsome men she had encountered since transmigrating.

The emperor was strikingly handsome, and his status only enhanced his presence. Several princes were equally impressive.

Among them, however, one figure stood out most clearly in her mind—Lord Lin.

His expression was always calm and restrained, yet his features were elegant and dignified, perfectly balanced between scholarly refinement and official authority.

Truly impressive.

If only he weren’t so stone-faced.

Smiling faintly at her wandering thoughts, Shen Shaoguang looked once more at the curing meats and made a quiet decision.

Once the ham was ready, she would first steam a portion with yellow wine and sugar.

Time, after all, made everything richer.