The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

"Thankfully... thankfully we sold everything we owned to send our child to private school for a few years..."

Wang Zhuacai squatted in the corner and spoke to Yao in a muffled voice, as if trying to convince himself.

Madam Yao remained silent, gazing at her son's profile with a complex expression—a mixture of worry, confusion, and a faint, almost imperceptible, sense of comfort. Having weathered many storms in her youth, she now vaguely sensed that perhaps... this turn of events for her son wasn't entirely a bad thing.

The next day, at the crack of dawn, Wang Zhuacai and Wang Zhonghua went to the market on Longsheng Street, their steps still damp with dew. Lü Sanjun's reputation proved invaluable, and with Wang Zhonghua's deliberate mention that it was to repay Lü's kindness and raise funds to complete the entrusted task, they rented a small, somewhat dilapidated but reasonably located shop not far from the ferry crossing for a mere two qian of silver per month with almost no trouble. The shop had originally been a closed tea stall, but its advantage lay in the open space in front, enough to fit a few clumsy wooden tables and benches.

Looking at the shop that would soon be theirs, Wang Zhuacai was filled with energy, as if he had become ten years younger. He immediately started repairing and cleaning, climbing up and down with incredible agility. Yao Shi smiled and said to Wang Zhonghua, "Look at your father, he looks ten years younger today!"

Wang Zhuacai smiled and continued repairing the leaky roof and wiping away years of accumulated grime. Wang Zhonghua, meanwhile, with his money tucked inside, moved through the bustling market like a seasoned shopkeeper.

He meticulously selected ingredients, like a seasoned chef—top-quality high-gluten flour, chewy bean curd sheets, fresh mutton still slightly bloody, thick, glossy black fungus, and plump, golden daylily buds. Especially the spices: expensive pepper, star anise, fennel, cinnamon, Sichuan peppercorns… He bought the best quality without batting an eye, spending money like water, which made Wang Zhuacai, following behind, tremble with fear: “My son, at this rate, even a treasury wouldn’t be enough!”

"Dad, don't worry. Try it if you don't believe me. These are the soul of the soup. Without them, the soup would have no flavor," Wang Zhonghua reassured him.

"Unfortunately, there are no sweet potato noodles in this era, so we can only use bean curd sheets and gluten as a temporary substitute," Wang Zhonghua thought to himself.

Finally, he bought some "trinkets" that the siblings Qin Tiedan and Qin Tiehua liked, and took with him a specially made double-eared soup pot with holes and several small, exquisite, and strangely shaped iron pot designs, and went to Qin Tiedan's blacksmith shop.

Qin Tiedan and his father, Old Qin, shirtless and sweat pouring down their bronze skin, received the blueprints in the clanging, sparking shop. Old Qin glared at them, his thick eyebrows furrowed, his eyes red from the stove fire. "Zhonghua, you rascal," he said, "this pot...it has a hole in the bottom? How are you supposed to cook soup in it? Won't it all leak out?"

Qin Tiedan scratched his head, "Brother, your little iron pot is way too small, only the size of your palm. It's too small even for frying eggs, it's practically useless!"

Wang Zhonghua laughed heartily and patted Qin Tiedan's strong arm: "Uncle Qin, Brother Tiedan, how will you know if it works or not if you don't try? Just do as I say, I'll have a clever use for it in the future. This isn't a pot for cooking soup, this is our future money-making treasure! It's called a 'grinding pan,' and it's specially used to make another kind of delicious food."

He then became serious and lowered his voice, "The shop is opening, and there are so many things to do. Brother Tiedan, you're strong, and Sister Tiehua is meticulous. Both of you should lend a hand. As for the wages..."

"Brother Zhonghua, I don't want any wages for working for your family. The gifts you bought for me and my brother were too expensive. Don't waste money on us in the future," Qin Tiehua said to Wang Zhonghua while deftly helping his brother.

"What a load of rubbish!" Qin Tiedan waved his large, fan-like hand, his booming voice drowning out the sound of hammering. "We're brothers who've risked our lives for each other, aren't we! If you mention money again, this hammer won't acknowledge you!" He paused, a shadow crossing his face, his voice lowering. "As for that Qiu Laohu bastard, you'd better stay away from him these days. He was humiliated when the three of us were saved by Master Lü, and he's definitely holding a grudge."

Wang Zhonghua's eyes were slightly cold, but a calm smile that seemed out of place for his age appeared on his lips: "I dare to sell soup on Longsheng Street, so I'm not afraid of this local bully. Don't worry, he owes me his life, and I remember it. Try me, and sooner or later, I'll get it back with interest."

……

A few days later, everything was ready.

On the eve of the opening, Wang Zhonghua set up his specially made double-handled pot in his small courtyard. Yao Shi and Wang Xiangjun were busy kneading dough, washing vegetables, cutting meat, and soaking wood ear mushrooms and daylily buds. Old Qin and Tie Dan tended the fire and did odd jobs, while Wang Zhonghua monopolized the only small stone mortar in the house, meticulously grinding various spices he had bought according to the proportions of his "secret recipe." The spicy pepper, the mellow star anise, the rich cinnamon, the numbing Sichuan peppercorns... the exotic aroma was irresistible, dominating the neighborhood, and the neighbors couldn't help but peek over the wall, gossiping among themselves.

"What's that Wang kid up to? This smells amazing!"

"I heard they're opening a food stall; the aroma alone is making my mouth water!"

"This fragrance is so enticing, even God himself could draw it in!"

……

Qin Tiehua arrived as well. She had changed into a clean blue cotton dress, old but neatly starched. She applied the face powder Wang Zhonghua had given her and deftly helped tend the fire. The flickering flames cast a healthy blush on her wheat-colored face, highlighting her alluring figure. Fine beads of sweat glistened on her nose, like morning dew on plump ears of wheat, giving her a striking, almost ethereal beauty. She occasionally glanced up at Wang Zhonghua, who was intently mixing spices, her eyes filled with curiosity and an indescribable trust.

"Ah, Brother Zhonghua, this smells amazing!" She wrinkled her delicate nose but couldn't help taking a deep breath. "It smells so good it makes my mouth water and warms me up! It's even more fragrant than the hot and sour soup at the temple fair!"

Wang Zhonghua chuckled: "Good ingredients make for a good soup! And our Tiehua girl will enjoy it even more!"

Qin Tiehua blushed and lightly punched Wang Zhonghua's chest with her pink fist: "You're so glib! How dare you laugh at me! I'll beat you to death..." She was fierce in words, but her face was full of shyness.

Wang Zhonghua quickly bowed: "Hehe, you've beaten me to death..."

Amidst laughter and conversation, he threw the ground spice powder into the boiling broth made from lamb bones and meat. Instantly, an even richer and more captivating complex aroma exploded outwards, almost enveloping the entire Wangjiagang area.

In the best of times for the Song Dynasty, ordinary people only ate two meals a day, and even getting enough to eat was a big problem. Who would be willing to eat sesame oil! The allure of that complex aroma was simply irresistible!

Wang Zhonghua added the bean curd sheets, wood ear mushrooms, and daylily buds one by one. Finally, while Wang Zhuacai vigorously stirred the pot to prevent it from sticking to the bottom, he slowly poured in the prepared gluten water like silk. The soup visibly thickened and became a glossy red, oily and tempting, bubbling and gurgling, like a pot of celestial soup from the Queen Mother of the West's Peach Banquet, which could extend one's life by eighteen thousand years if drunk.

"It's done!" Wang Zhonghua scooped up a spoonful of soup. The broth was smooth and clung to the spoon for a long time, and the aroma hit him right in the head. He was certain that this flavor, which combined the essence of later generations' wisdom, was a devastating blow to the taste buds in an era where cooking methods were relatively simple and spices were a luxury for ordinary people.

He first served a bowl to his family members who were eagerly waiting, as well as Qin Tiehua and others.