Chapter Seventeen: Experimenting with Seasonings

Wei Renshi immediately guessed the matriarch's thoughts from her expression and went to recount to her what had happened yesterday at Jikang Hall.

After listening, the matriarch’s face showed surprise. She asked, “When did my son become knowledgeable about such matters?”

“Just things I’ve heard—everywhere you look, there’s something to learn,” Wei Renshi replied casually. He then asked, “I only know the Jiao family is the richest in Fuchang, but I don’t know what business they’re in. Mother, do you know?”

The matriarch shook her head. “I’ve only heard they own several sea-faring vessels and do business overseas. The specifics, I don’t know. He’s entrusted you with something—can you really do it?”

Wei Renshi nodded. “Of course. Xi’er, go check what’s been delivered, pick out what we need, and sell the rest for copper coins.”

“So many things!” Xi’er happily skipped away.

The matriarch looked at Wei Renshi, somewhat worried.

“Don’t worry, Mother. I know what I’m doing and won’t bring trouble,” Wei Renshi comforted her. “I’ll make our lives better, and you and Xi’er will have good days again.”

The matriarch nodded, suddenly feeling that the person before her was a bit unfamiliar—as if he wasn’t her child anymore.

The thought came and went. Who else could he be, if not her son? Children grow up and understand more; that’s a good thing. This family would rely on him in the end.

That afternoon, Wei Renshi dutifully stayed home, letting Xi’er make him look every bit the scholar.

Early the next morning, he found an excuse to visit Li He for a discussion and went out.

At Li He’s gate, he happened to see Li He riding his donkey, about to leave. He pulled Li He aside.

“Renshi, why are you dragging me here?” the young Li He asked.

“To coordinate with you,” Wei Renshi said. “I need to be out and about these days, but my mother won’t allow it. If I say I’m visiting you, she lets me go. So, if she asks, just say I’ve been with you.”

“Well…” Li He hesitated, but seeing Wei Renshi’s serious expression, nodded. “Alright. But what are you doing that you have to hide from your mother?”

Wei Renshi saw Li He’s grown-up manner and his eyes sparkled. “Want to see? I can treat you to something delicious you’ve never tried. How about it?”

“Hmm…” Li He hesitated again.

“Let’s go!” Seeing Li He’s obvious interest, Wei Renshi grabbed him and headed to the home of Zheng, the village chief.

When they arrived, Zheng was in the courtyard sharpening a hoe, having finished breakfast. He greeted them with a smile, “Young Wei, Young Li, have you eaten?”

Both nodded. Wei Renshi went straight to check his bean sprouts, opened the wooden basin, sprinkled some water, and covered it again.

Bean sprouts take seven or eight days to grow; today wouldn’t be a tasting day. But there were other things.

“Uncle Zheng, did you have enough breakfast?” Wei Renshi asked.

“It was alright,” Zheng replied with a smile.

“If you ate too much, that’s unfortunate,” Wei Renshi joked. “Uncle Zheng, if you have things to do, go ahead. Just remember to come back for lunch.”

“I really do have some errands,” Zheng laughed. “Yesterday I demonstrated the new plow in two neighboring villages and sold five units. Today I’ll visit another village.”

“Then you’ll miss a treat at lunch,” Wei Renshi said with a look of regret.

Zheng laughed heartily, “Now you’ve got me looking forward to it. Don’t worry, Young Wei, I’ll tour one village this morning and make sure to be back at noon. I can go out again afterward.”

After Zheng left, Li He asked, amazed, “Renshi, when did you get so familiar with the village chief?”

“Since I started bringing him benefits,” Wei Renshi replied, then shook his head. “But he’s a good man.”

“What are you up to?” Li He pressed, curious.

Wei Renshi kept it mysterious. “You’ll see soon enough. Changji, how about a task for you?”

“What is it?” Li He asked.

Wei Renshi pointed outside the courtyard. “I’ll wander the village, but I don’t want to be seen and have word get back to my mother. You, on the other hand, like to roam and compose poems—everyone knows this, so it won’t be suspicious. Take Li Rong and fetch a piece of dead pine wood. How about it?”

“Alright!” Li He agreed and went out.

After Li He left, Wei Renshi got busy. He took out the mutton bought yesterday; the cool spring night had kept it fresh. He washed and cut the meat, cleaned the bones, and put them in the cauldron. Then he began kneading dough to make thin pancakes, which he’d slice into ribbons, and he planned to bake a few flatbreads to go with the mutton soup.

Wei Renshi had seen Old Wang cook mutton, which was much like boiling mutton soup, except Old Wang served the meat without the broth, chopping it and wrapping it in flatbread.

But the true flavor lay in the soup.

Wei Renshi’s purpose, however, was not merely the soup, but to test his own seasoning—to see if he could improve the taste of the mutton soup.

If the soup tasted better, the meat would naturally be more delicious. Using Old Wang’s method to outdo Old Wang would highlight the advantages of the seasoning and promote it.

He’d then invent a few new ways to eat it, adding flair and making his seasoning famous in Fuchang.

He added water, lit the fire, and when Li He returned with the pine wood, Wei Renshi was skimming the foam from the cauldron.

He selected a few seasonings and put them in, then peeled and washed the pine wood.

Fresh pine wouldn’t do; it needed time to rest, otherwise the resin would overpower the soup. That’s why Wei Renshi asked Li He for dead pine, which had a milder aroma.

A hint of pine fragrance could dispel the gamey flavor of mutton, adding a unique scent to the soup and absorbing impurities from the meat.

The true magic, though, was in the angelica root: a few slices in the broth made it fragrant without being gamey, thick and clear, with a faint medicinal aroma. Add a handful of goji berries for a hint of sweetness, and the flavor became exquisite.

When ladled out, paired with pepper in the bowl, the taste was elevated.

Though there was no chili yet, later he could seek out zanthoxylum—Sichuan pepper—which could provide a similar spicy kick.

The aroma of the seasoning and the meat mingled, gradually filling the courtyard. Li He and Li Rong sniffed repeatedly, eyes fixed on the bubbling white soup, unconsciously swallowing.

Wei Renshi chuckled, rolled up his sleeves, and started making pancakes.