Chapter Eighteen: Killing Two Birds with One Stone

Mutton soup was by far the most commonly consumed broth among the Tang people, and mutton itself was the most frequently eaten meat. It was even possible that the consumption of mutton surpassed that of chicken or duck. Yet Wei Renshi had never tasted authentic mutton soup of the Tang dynasty, nor had he ever enjoyed a hearty meal of pure mutton. He'd only ever tasted tiny flecks of minced mutton sprinkled atop Old Wang’s flatbread.

So, given his penchant for good food, how could Wei Renshi let slip this rare chance to indulge himself? He switched to a clean little cauldron, set a gentle flame beneath it, tossed in a handful of salt and a measure of crushed peppercorn, and dry-roasted them into a fragrant seasoning salt. This he sprinkled evenly over the steaming, aromatic rack of lamb straight from the pot.

He took a bite—the scent was mouthwatering, and the tender, springy mutton released a flood of rich, savory broth at the first touch of his teeth, filling his mouth with flavor. With a gentle tug, a long strip of mutton slid free from the rib bone, its unique aroma mingling with the special fragrance of the spices—a touch of fresh saltiness, a hint of lingering sweetness, all enlivened by a kick of spice. In an instant, all these sensations exploded across his tongue, creating a layered, astonishingly delicious experience.

“This…” Village Head Zheng stared in shock at the bone in his hand, unable to hide his amazement.

“Try a sip of the soup,” Wei Renshi said, smiling as he handed Zheng a bowl of the prepared broth.

Zheng blew on it, brought it to his lips, and took a sip.

“Mmm!” The expression that spread across his face made Wei Renshi’s smile even brighter.

“Well?” Wei Renshi asked.

Zheng set the bowl down and slapped his thigh with conviction. “This will do! Absolutely! Never mind the flatbread—just one taste of this soup, and Old Wang is already beaten!”

Li He and Li Rong, who had long since been wolfing down their portions, turned at these words. Li He, usually so composed for his age, forgot all decorum, wiped his mouth, and handed his bowl to Wei Renshi. “Another please—wait, Old Wang has already lost?”

“I made a wager with Old Wang, who sells flatbread in Fuchang, to have a cook-off in half a month, to see whose food is better,” Wei Renshi explained, gesturing at the array of seasonings and spices he’d prepared. “With these, his flavor can’t compare to mine. Uncle Zheng, if in half a month, everyone in Fuchang knows I beat Old Wang with these, do you think the wealthy families with discerning palates will want to buy them?”

“So this is the food-related business you mentioned the other day?” Zheng recalled, asking for confirmation.

Wei Renshi nodded.

Zheng immediately understood. “So that’s why you set up this contest with Old Wang! Once you win, you’ll mention these ingredients, and soon the whole city will know you triumphed thanks to them. Out of curiosity, people will try buying some for themselves. If they find their cooking improves, they’ll buy more. Once people’s tastes change, it’s hard to go back—so this will sell for a long time.”

“Uncle Zheng, you see things clearly,” Wei Renshi said, nodding with a smile.

“You truly are a remarkable young man!” Zheng praised. “You write poetry, you’re learned, you’ve improved the plow and invented an irrigation device, and now you can cook as well! Is there anything those books of yours don’t contain?”

Wei Renshi simply smiled and glanced at the sky; it was already midday.

“Young Master?” came a sudden call from outside. Wei Renshi immediately recognized Xier’s voice.

Before he could get up, Li Rong had already leapt from her seat and gone to open the door.

Xier stood outside, a burly figure looming behind her—none other than Jiao Haiqing, the young master of the Jiao family. At that moment, he was panting, drenched in sweat; even though the spring day was not warm, his collar was soaked through.

“I made it! I made it! It’s just noon, and I arrived at Brother Renshi’s house first, so I’m not late!” he exclaimed between gasps, hastening to explain himself.

Zheng, Li He, and Li Rong all looked on in confusion as Wei Renshi stood and said, “Brother Jiao, you are indeed a man of your word. May I ask—what did you have for breakfast?”

Jiao Haiqing, anxious to explain himself lest he be thought tardy, had not noticed anything amiss. But at Wei Renshi’s question, he became aware of the strange, enticing aroma filling the air. Though he prided himself on having tasted delicacies from all over, he had never encountered such a fragrance.

“How wonderful!” Jiao Haiqing said, raising his hand toward the doorway. “Forgive me for intruding, but who is the master of this house?”

Without waiting for an answer, he followed the scent inside, making his way to the cauldron.

“Amazing! Absolutely amazing!” he cried, inhaling deeply, his demeanor resembling that of an addict catching sight of his drug of choice. Li He and Li Rong instinctively took a step back.

Wei Renshi skimmed the oil from the surface, ladled out a small bowl of clear broth, sliced in a few pieces of meat, and served it with a shredded flatbread. “Brother Jiao, this is your lunch today—just this portion, no more.”

Jiao Haiqing, forgetting all decorum, snatched the food and began to devour it where he stood.

“Wait,” Wei Renshi interrupted. “Brother Jiao, you may only eat this much for lunch. Eat slowly, savor it—otherwise, it’ll be gone in a few bites, and that would be a shame.”

Everyone looked at Wei Renshi in puzzlement, so he explained, “Brother Jiao is somewhat overweight and has asked me to help him slim down.”

“Jiao…” Village Head Tian looked him over. “Would you be the Jiao family of Fuchang?”

“So delicious!” Jiao Haiqing shouted, not waiting for an answer. “I’ve never tasted mutton soup like this!”

“Everything tastes better when you’re hungry,” Wei Renshi replied with a laugh. “Brother Jiao, did you bring your family’s cook?”

Mouth full, Jiao Haiqing quickly swallowed, then answered, “Yes, he’s here!”

“Good. I’ll speak to your cook about how to prepare your meals. Once you’re home, be sure to eat only what he makes for you. I’m a bit busy these next few days, but I’ll go to the mountains to find you some herbs to brew in water—they may help ease your high blood pressure.”

“Thank you for your trouble, Brother Renshi,” Jiao Haiqing said. His bowl of mutton soup was already empty, and he eyed the pot longingly.

Wei Renshi pretended not to notice and served Xier a bowl, adding two ribs as well, urging her to enjoy a treat.

Jiao Haiqing stared, his mouth hanging open, practically drooling at the sight.

“Brother Renshi, just one more bite! Please, just one!” he pleaded.

“But you’ve already had your portion, haven’t you?” Wei Renshi replied, feigning reluctance. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Very well—if you can walk here from your home again tomorrow at noon, I’ll make you a rib of your own to try.”

“Yes! Yes, yes!” Jiao Haiqing agreed eagerly. “I’ll be here again tomorrow for sure!”

Wei Renshi was in high spirits—he had tested his seasonings, and, by luring Jiao Haiqing with delicious food, was encouraging him to exercise by walking between their homes. It was, in every way, a resounding success.