Chapter Seven: Stealing Business

Don’t be fooled by the notion that people in the Tang Dynasty didn’t stir-fry dishes, or that their steaming and boiling methods were simplistic. When it came to grilling, their skills were second to none—even compared to later generations.

First, the ingredients were exceptional. Whether fish or lamb, everything came from pure, natural sources, untouched by feed or pollution, and bursting with authentic flavor.

Second, the simplicity of their methods forced cooks to pour all their ingenuity into perfecting whatever they prepared. Thus, in Tang times, anyone who entered the kitchen was a master of the grill, deft in both controlling the heat and seasoning.

Though Wu Ning seldom ate meat or roasted lamb, fish was plentiful. The little creek beside the hollow teemed with grass carp and silver carp, so abundant people hardly bothered to catch them. Whenever hunger struck, Wu Ning would head to the riverside for a feast, honing his grilling skills with each meal.

The moment grilling was mentioned, Wu Ning didn’t need to instruct anyone. Wu Li dashed behind the house and gathered a handful of dogwood berries; Tiger fetched a long rod and scooped up a clutch of green plums from beneath the plum tree by the mountain path. Even Qiao’er dutifully rolled up her sleeves and washed a fresh piece of ginger. The four worked together in perfect harmony.

In truth, the finest way to grill lamb is to leave it untouched—place the fresh rack directly over the flames, and once it turns golden, sprinkle it with salt. The pure, primal flavor is the essence of the dish.

But this method requires freshly slaughtered lamb, and the fresher the meat, the better. The large rib Wu Ning had at hand wouldn’t suffice. Fangzhou was a small place; few could afford lamb, so butchers seldom slaughtered. The meat lingered, losing its freshness.

Wu Ning had to adopt a different approach.

“Where’s the honey?”

“Bought it!” Wu Li hurriedly handed over a small jar, barely the size of a fist.

Wu Ning opened it and found only enough thick honey to cover the bottom.

Wu Li grimaced at the jar. “Just this little bit, and it’s outrageously expensive—ten large coins!”

Wu Ning smiled faintly. “Ten coins for food—does that seem expensive?”

“It’s expensive!” Wu Li nodded emphatically.

“It’s not expensive!” Tiger shook his head with conviction.

“See? You’re not even as sensible as Tiger,” Wu Ning chuckled. “It’s not expensive at all!”

From the time humans were monkeys to the present, if you tally it up, more than half of our creative productivity has gone to satisfying our appetites.

I once heard that, apart from humans, the total weight of all other species on Earth is about three hundred million tons. But the combined weight of the world’s population is seven hundred million tons. Yet, to feed those seven hundred million tons, the chickens, ducks, fish, pigs, cattle, and sheep raised for human consumption total several billion tons.

So, from ancient times to now, everything we do is ultimately for eating. From filling our bellies to eating well, this pursuit surpasses all else. So tell me, are those ten coins really too much?

He added scallion segments and crushed ginger, along with dogwood berries, green plums, and salt to the lamb rack to marinate it. After a long while, Wu Ning finally took out the lamb and carefully brushed it with honey.

By then, Wu Li had already prepared the grill. Wu Ning placed the lamb rack on top and instructed Wu Li, “Watch it.”

“Got it!” Wu Li agreed, staring at the rack with unwavering eyes, as if afraid it might sprout wings and fly away.

With his hands free, Wu Ning took the rice Tiger had washed, inspected it closely, and, still uneasy, washed it once more himself.

By now, the bone broth in the pot was nearly done. He called Tiger over, and together they moved the pot and broth aside to keep warm.

He fetched the large basin usually used for porridge, set it on the stove, smeared it with lamb fat for smoothness, then poured in the rice to steam.

Don’t think Wu Ning’s life is luxurious just because he eats white rice.

Wrong!

Though rice was considered a refined grain, it wasn’t nearly as precious as later generations believed—it was only slightly better than millet.

In this era, the rarest delicacy wasn’t rice, but white flour.

Wu Ning was puzzled at first. According to modern understanding, good rice should be pricier than flour. But in the Tang Dynasty, it was the opposite.

Firstly, neither rice nor flour had much variation. There weren’t the myriad varieties of later times—no Wuchang rice, fragrant Shuidao, or particularly strong flour from Hebei. It was all the same: same yield, same quality.

Quality depended only on how finely it was milled, the amount of husk or bran left.

The other reason flour was pricier was productivity. Simply put, turning wheat into flour required more labor and steps than processing rice, so it cost more.

Now, with both stove burners occupied, there was nothing else to do, so the four children gathered around the lamb rack, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Ninth Brother...”

“Hm?”

“Do you think that string of coins...was really earned from the soup stall?” Wu Li, bored, brought up the matter again.

“Yes, it was.”

“Then I’ll talk to my father—no more kiln work, we’ll set up a stall by the roadside instead.”

“Get lost!” Wu Ning nearly choked with indignation.

Damn it, coming to steal my business already? And from my own brother, no less. Clearly, being too kind only invites trouble!

“We could team up, wouldn’t that be great?”

“Great my foot!”

He thinks Changluo Mountain is some tourist hotspot—one more or less doesn’t matter, the crowds will always be there.

Changluo Mountain was tiny, Fangzhou wasn’t a big city, and the number of people coming to the hills each day could be counted.

“If you really set up a stall, you wouldn’t earn a string of coins, just five hundred each.”

“Oh, oh!” Wu Li finally understood. “Then I’ll drop the idea.”

“...”

“Don’t worry,” Wu Ning knew he meant no harm. “Wait a few days, and I’ll find you a good job.”

“What kind of job?”

“I’ll hire you to dig a cellar.”

“Cellar? What kind?”

“Like the ice cellars big families have in town.”

“Oh, I see.” Wu Li nodded, then suddenly wondered, “Why are you digging an ice cellar?”

He stared, “That thing’s not cheap—you have to use stone, or in the heat it turns to mud.”

“A dirt cellar is fine, I’m not storing ice.”

“What are you storing then?”

“Why do you have so many questions?” Wu Ning grew impatient. “Vegetables! Can’t I store vegetables?”

“...”

Wu Li didn’t dare ask further, but his mind was still spinning. “Vegetables? Vegetable cellar? What’s the use?”

Just as he was about to ask again, a loud voice boomed from the courtyard—someone was coming.

“Ninth Lang, where are you? Come out and let Fourth Uncle see if you’ve gotten paler!”

The four children recognized the voice without seeing the man, and were instantly delighted.

Wu Li abandoned the lamb rack, and together with Wu Ning, Tiger, and Qiao’er, rushed out.

“Fourth Uncle!”

In the courtyard stood a dark, burly man clad in armor, upright and robust, with a bristling beard and a broad smile as he scooped up Qiao’er.

“Qiao girl, you’re looking prettier than ever.”

“Well, did you miss your Fourth Uncle?”

...