"Ah, Sister Xiang is here at the market too? My, how you've grown—taller and plumper!" Uncle Shen fanned himself, his smile awkward. "I’ve been busy with household matters and haven’t had time to visit. How is Ji Brother? Has his illness improved?"
Shen Miao stood up and replied, "He recovered long ago. Thank you for your concern."
Though she could remain composed around Uncle Shen’s family, it didn’t mean she wished to be close to them. Human nature was selfish—Uncle Shen and Aunt Ding had refused to take in their brother’s children and had mistreated Ji Brother and Sister Xiang. She couldn’t simply forget that. While the two families hadn’t openly severed ties, there was no pretending nothing had happened.
Now that she was self-sufficient and no longer reliant on Uncle Shen’s family, there was even less reason to feign closeness.
With a glance, she curtsied to Aunt Ding. "Greetings, Aunt." Without waiting for a response, she straightened and turned to Hai Ge'er, offering a perfunctory smile. "Hai Ge'er has grown taller and sturdier too."
After these polite exchanges, an awkward silence settled between the two families.
Sister Xiang had immediately ducked behind Shen Miao the moment Uncle Shen appeared. Only when Shen Miao began speaking did she cautiously peek out, though she kept a tight grip on her sister’s skirt.
She didn’t like Uncle Shen or Aunt Ding. Aunt Ding was mean—when she got angry, she’d hit people.
As the youngest in her family, Sister Xiang had been doted on by her parents, elder sister, and brother. They indulged her, letting her cry or laugh as she pleased, and sometimes, when she dug in her heels, no one could sway her.
But when her parents passed, she was too young to understand death. Naively, she went to live with Uncle Shen’s family.
In someone else’s home, a child who wasn’t their own no longer received the same leniency or affection. Even with Ji Brother protecting her, Sister Xiang still suffered.
It was in Uncle Shen’s household that she learned what "death" truly meant.
Death meant they were never coming back.
Her father and mother had become celestial officials in the heavens—gone forever. No matter how much she cried, threw tantrums, fell ill, or got hurt, they would never return.
From then on, she only had her elder sister and brother.
Sister Xiang sniffled, cautiously peering out from behind Shen Miao. When neither Uncle Shen nor Aunt Ding paid her any further attention, she relaxed and loosened her grip on the skirt, using both hands to cradle the enormous 12-inch (30 cm) grilled starch sausage Shen Miao had bought her. Skewered on two thick bamboo sticks, the sausage had split open while roasting, releasing an irresistible aroma, though it was heavy as a brick.
Holding it with one hand earlier had been exhausting—she’d nearly dropped it!
She took a big bite, then looked up to find Hai Ge'er staring fixedly at her sausage.
Instantly, Sister Xiang narrowed her eyes and retreated behind Shen Miao again.
Hai Ge'er was the worst! Aunt Ding was a terrible cook, so their family often had street food bought by hired hands. They ate out so often they’d all grown as round as footballs. But such luxuries never extended to Sister Xiang and Ji Brother. Whenever Hai Ge'er had something delicious, he’d flaunt it in front of them while they went hungry—never sharing a single bite.
Hmph! Now she had her elder sister. She got to eat delicious food every day, and she wouldn’t share with him either! Let him drool! She wouldn’t even let him look!
Sticking out her tongue at him, Sister Xiang happily settled in Shen Miao’s shadow, munching on her sausage with exaggerated smacks—normally, she ate quietly, but today, she made sure to be loud.
Sure enough, Hai Ge'er craned his neck, watching her eat as the rich, smoky aroma of the sausage taunted him. The scent of charred meat and the numbing spice of Sichuan pepper made him swallow hard, itching to ask where she’d bought it—until Aunt Ding clapped him on the shoulder. "Let’s go! We still need to buy ink and paper at the bookstore!"
Uncle Shen puffed out his chest and remarked pointedly to Shen Miao, "Indeed, indeed. Hai Ge'er will soon take the Imperial Academy’s entrance exam for youths. You know how clever he is—always at the top of Teacher Liu’s class. We must be off now. You and Sister Xiang take your time browsing."
Despite Hai Ge'er’s gluttony, laziness, and sharp tongue, he inexplicably had a knack for academics—no wonder Uncle Shen was so smug.
But what did that have to do with her? Shen Miao only said flatly, "Safe travels, Uncle."
As she turned back to browsing the dogs, Sister Xiang suddenly popped out from behind her like a spitting kitten. "My brother’s taking the exam too! It’s not that special!"
Uncle Shen burst into laughter, while Aunt Ding sneered, "Oh? Ji Brother is attempting it too? Well, any boy of age can apply. But applying and passing are two different things. Without a tutor or discipline, do you really think he stands a chance? Don’t take offense, dear, but you’re wasting your time. The Imperial Academy is a state institution! Though commoners are permitted to test, do you know how many boys in the capital compete for just a hundred spots? Even Hai Ge'er—with a tutor guiding him and his father coaching him daily—has spent years preparing, and we still dare not claim he’ll pass. As for Ji Brother..."
He probably doesn’t even know what’s on the exam!
Aunt Ding left the rest unsaid, daintily dabbing her lips with a handkerchief, her disdain palpable. Their family had paid handsomely to learn the academy’s past exam topics—knowledge most applicants could only dream of.
The Imperial Academy’s entrance test was nothing like ordinary school exams.
Shen Miao glanced at Hai Ge'er, whose cheeks were stuffed with food, crumbs littering his clothes, and smirked. "If someone like Hai Ge'er can take the exam, why can’t Ji Brother? Just because he lacked opportunities before doesn’t mean he’ll always be at a disadvantage. Aunt, you shouldn’t judge people by outdated standards."
Aunt Ding frowned. What did she mean, "someone like Hai Ge'er"?
She turned to her son—his face pudgy, eyes glued to Sister Xiang’s sausage—and realized with irritation that he did look rather dull-witted and unscholarly.
Fury flared in her chest, but before she could retort, Shen Miao had already curtsied and walked away with Sister Xiang.
"Take care, Uncle, Aunt," Shen Miao called over her shoulder, steering Sister Xiang toward a pet shop. "We’re quite busy ourselves, so we’ll bid you farewell here."
Aunt Ding seethed, turning to pinch her son’s shoulder. "All you do is eat! Is that all you’re good for?"
Hai Ge'er pouted, his pancake nearly slipping from his grasp. "Mother, why did you hit me?"
"Move along already! Running into that niece of yours brings nothing but bad luck!" Aunt Ding snapped, her face flushed with anger.
Aunt Ding was furious—furious that she had once again been outwitted by Shen Miao. Since when had she become unable to win an argument against her?
Uncle Shen and Hai Ge'er exchanged a glance before shrugging in unison and trailing after their hot-tempered matriarch.
After a few steps, Aunt Ding gritted her teeth and glanced back. Shen Miao had already picked out a small, yellowish-furred puppy and was haggling intently with the seller, not sparing them so much as a glance.
As if they were utterly insignificant.
This only fueled Aunt Ding’s resentment. She thought bitterly: She’s been sent back home in disgrace, with no parents to rely on. Let’s see what kind of life she and that sister of hers can scrape together! And as for Ji Brother passing the exams—what a joke! A boy who skips school even after money’s been spent on his education—what hope is there for him?
But while Aunt Ding stewed in her anger, Shen Miao had already put Uncle Shen’s family out of her mind the moment she turned away.
They say a noble heart remains unshaken by praise or blame. If Uncle Shen’s family looked down on her, so be it—she didn’t live for their approval. She would walk her own path and let them talk all they wanted!
So she happily continued her search for a dog.
The previous pet vendors she had visited had dogs that looked listless and poorly kept. But as she walked a little further, she came across a second stall run by a kind-faced woman known as Wan Wuniang.
This stall sold only puppies.
Shen Miao had originally intended to buy a grown dog, so she shouldn’t have lingered. But Wan Wuniang was cradling a plump little puppy in her arms, stroking it affectionately. Unlike other vendors, her wooden crates were lined with handmade cloth padding, and the dogs inside—though fewer in number and variety—were clearly well-raised, healthy, and sturdy, with glossy coats and wet noses.
Shen Miao’s eyes landed on a long-haired pup with golden fur on its back and white on its belly, pink paws, nose, and tongue. It was larger-boned than its littermates and noticeably chubbier. When she lifted it by the scruff, its legs dangled naturally, unafraid and unprotesting, its big, dark eyes like glistening grapes as it gazed up at her.
Adorable. Shen Miao was instantly smitten. This was the one!
She had initially wanted a full-grown dog, but the earlier vendors had kept their dogs tied to posts with rough ropes, cramming five or six into a single cage with no room to even turn around. Every one of them had dull eyes and matted fur.
Wan Wuniang’s stall was different. She didn’t sell adult dogs—only a few puppies in two or three well-kept crates.
When Shen Miao inquired, Wan Wuniang, who was feeding her puppies dried field-mouse meat, replied, "This young lady should know—I usually run a pet shop on Horse Market Street. I’m only here for the market today, so whether I sell many or few doesn’t matter. Every dog I raise is cared for with the utmost attention—none of them are passed around from trader to trader. You can see that just by looking. I only want to find them good homes. I earn my silver, you get a beloved pet, and the pup gets a loving family. Money should be earned honorably, and this is the only kind of business I do."
Her words struck a chord with Shen Miao. No wonder the dogs at the other stalls had seemed so lifeless—they were likely exhausted from long journeys, possibly even stolen. Especially the adult dogs—who knew where they’d come from?
If they were stolen goods, she absolutely couldn’t buy them.
"Big Sister…" Sister Xiang suddenly called out softly.
Shen Miao turned to see that Sister Xiang had already finished her grilled sausage and was now clutching the chubby puppy, pressing her cheek against its soft fur.
Wan Wuniang stroked the puppy’s head, her voice brimming with pride. "You’ve got a good eye, young lady. This one’s the finest of the litter. When it grows up, it’ll be a fierce guardian—perfect for hunting, too, if a noble family wants it."
"How much for this one?" Shen Miao asked, resolved.
"Eighty coins, and I’ll throw in a padded dog bed and a leash. How’s that?"
Shen Miao narrowed her eyes and held up five fingers. "Fifty."
"That’s far too low!" Wan Wuniang waved her hands in protest.
But Shen Miao had done her research, having already checked several vendors. In the Song Dynasty, dog-keeping was a popular practice, with prized breeds in the south costing several strings of cash. However, Wan Wuniang’s dogs were neither fierce mastiffs nor exotic Persian hounds, nor were they famed hunting dogs like the slender-limbed xiquan. A sturdy local pup like this, meant for guarding homes, typically sold for just a few dozen coins. After some haggling, Shen Miao finally secured the deal for sixty-two coins, plus a bag of dog food.
Yes, the Song Dynasty already had full-service pet care. Pet shops sold all kinds of supplies—like tang kang (a grain-based dog food), fish or pork intestines for cats, and shrimp for fish. There were even grooming services, known as "reforming cats and dogs."
As Shen Miao finalized the purchase, Wan Wuniang added, "My shop is about twenty zhang south of Horse Market Street—look for the green banner with a yellow dog’s head. If you ever need a dog bed, a bath, or a trim, come find me. I’m excellent at grooming! And if this little one ever falls ill, don’t try treating it yourself or abandoning it—bring it straight to me. I know a brilliant veterinarian, Wen Shiqiniang, whose clinic is right next to mine. She’s saved countless dogs. Remember that, young lady!"
Shen Miao nodded, committing it to memory. This Wan Wuniang is a rare kind soul.
After browsing a little longer without finding anything else worth buying, Shen Miao headed home with the puppy in her arms.
To her surprise, two figures were already loitering near her doorstep. She quickened her pace, and Zheng Neizhi turned at the sound of footsteps, smiling as he clasped his hands in greeting. "Ah, Mistress Shen, perfect timing. The madam—"
"Please, come inside for tea, Zheng Neizhi. We’ll talk there." Shen Miao cut him off, mindful of eavesdroppers. She had no intention of broadcasting the sale of her recipes so soon and hurriedly ushered him indoors.
Ji Brother hadn’t returned home yet, and with the stove cold and empty, there was naturally no tea to offer. Shen Miao could only hurriedly set down her basket and the odds and ends in her hands, then sheepishly went inside to fetch a bowl of water. But Zheng Neizhi had come to discuss business and waved it off with a polite smile before stating his purpose:
"The matter previously discussed with Madam Shen has been approved by the mistress. She was very fond of the shortbread cookies and particularly praised the egg yolk pastry with minced meat and taro paste. So, she readily agreed to the price you proposed. However, the mistress also insisted that Madam Shen not only write down the recipes but also personally instruct Chef Fang in making them—thoroughly, so he wouldn’t waste time deciphering the instructions and delay important matters."
"Of course, I’m available every afternoon after my morning stall," Shen Miao replied. Old Man Yang had just sent his apprentice the day before to inform her that the stall cart would be ready tomorrow, and she didn’t want to delay her daily earnings. After all, every little bit of steady income counted!
Zheng Neizhi considered the situation. The Xie household was currently preparing for a banquet, and with few distinguished guests visiting at the moment, it would be convenient for Shen Miao to come teach. "Then I must trouble Madam Shen to come to the Xie residence to teach these two pastries. Firstly, as a woman, it wouldn’t be proper for Chef Fang to visit your home daily—it might invite gossip. Secondly, learning to cook requires purchasing and preparing ingredients, and it’s inconvenient for Chef Fang to carry them around. Therefore, I believe it would be more practical for Madam Shen to teach at the Xie household. What do you think? Also, please prepare a list of ingredients needed for the lessons. I’ll arrange for someone to procure them in advance. Please ensure Chef Fang learns well."
"Of course, of course. Thank you for your thoughtful arrangements, Zheng Neizhi." Shen Miao smiled, her eyes curving happily.
Zheng Neizhi truly lived up to his reputation as the chief steward of the Xie household—efficient, considerate, and never leaving loose ends. Having Chef Fang come to the Shen home daily with bundles of ingredients would indeed draw too much attention, just as Zheng Neizhi had pointed out.
With the matter settled, Zheng Neizhi gestured to the young attendant accompanying him, who promptly brought forth a hefty wooden box. "Please count it, Madam Shen."
The attendant hurried outside to retrieve a large wooden box, which he carried with both arms, his steps heavy and his face dripping with sweat. Once inside the Shen residence, he set it down on the small courtyard table, panting.
Shen Miao’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be?
She reached out and lifted the lid—inside were stacks upon stacks of gleaming copper coins, neatly strung together with red cords. Zheng Neizhi kindly helped her count: eighty strings in total, meticulously arranged inside.
After verifying the amount, Zheng Neizhi helped repack the box and even let her keep the fine wooden case.
"Eighty strings exactly, not a single coin short."
"Oh my—" Shen Miao couldn’t tear her eyes away. She reached for the box, then suddenly remembered to feign modesty. "Zheng Neizhi, really, you could’ve paid after Chef Fang learned the recipes! Your mistress has patronized my little stall before—there’s no reason to distrust me. She’s far too generous. Well then, I’ll humbly accept this in advance."
Before she even finished speaking, she was already clutching the box to her chest.
Zheng Neizhi suppressed a chuckle. "This is only proper. As long as Madam Shen teaches diligently, the Xie family will honor the agreement."
The box was heavy—so heavy it made her heart bloom with joy.
Beaming, Shen Miao showered Zheng Neizhi with effusive praise, complimenting not only the Xie mistress and the elderly madam but also Xie Ninth Brother, Yan Shu, the coachman Zhou Da, Chef Fang, the gatekeeper Yan Qi, and even Zheng Neizhi himself for his hard work.
Such sweet, flattering words from a lovely young woman could easily make anyone’s head spin. Even Zheng Neizhi, who already had grandchildren, found himself blushing slightly. He hastily finalized the written agreement and prepared to take his leave.
"Let me see you out!" Shen Miao glanced around, then quickly stuffed the money box into the chicken coop—ignoring the startled squawks of the chicks—before lifting her skirts to escort him.
Her steps were practically floating as she walked him to the gate.
Who knew the Xie family would be so delightingly generous, paying the full sum upfront? The shiny new coins had dazzled her so much she could barely contain her glee. She had to press a handkerchief to her mouth to stop herself from grinning ear to ear in front of Zheng Neizhi.
As customary, she accompanied him to the end of the alley, where he bowed and boarded his carriage.
Once he was gone, Shen Miao rushed back to retrieve the box from the chicken coop. She glanced at the newly weaned puppy she had just bought, then at Sister Xiang, who sat obliviously on the steps, playing with the pup’s ears. A wave of unease washed over her.
How could she possibly leave so much money at home?
By evening, Ji Brother trudged back home, his cheeks flushed with excitement and eighteen copper coins tucked in his pocket.
Earlier that day, at Lanxin Bookstore, he had encountered a student from Biyong Academy. While he and Grandpa Zhou sat contentedly behind the counter, savoring the egg yolk pastries with minced meat and taro paste, a head with a neatly tied topknot suddenly popped up over the counter.
Ji Brother nearly dropped his pastry in surprise.
To his astonishment, the young man—Ning Yi—begged to buy one.
Grandpa Zhou recognized him and laughed. "Ning Yi, Ning Yi! Shouldn’t you be studying at the academy instead of sneaking out again?"
The student was tall and well-built but had a boyish face. He grinned. "I heard a new lamb pancake shop opened near Nanxun Gate and wanted to try it. I was just stopping by to buy some Xue Tao paper when—" He pointed at Ji Brother’s pastry. "What kind of cake is this? I’ve never seen it before. It looks delicious. Which shop sells it?"
Ji Brother explained it was homemade and not for sale.
But Ning Yi wouldn’t take no for an answer. Reluctantly, Ji Brother sold him one from his own share. Remembering his sister’s muttering about how the pastries cost nearly ten coppers to make and should sell for eighteen, he quoted that price.
To his surprise, Ning Yi didn’t haggle at all—he paid immediately and took the pastry.
With the first bite, Ning Yi’s eyes drifted shut.
The flaky, buttery crust crumbled delicately between his teeth, releasing a rich, wheaty fragrance. He took another eager bite, and the savory, velvety yolk spread across his tongue, its slightly grainy texture blending perfectly with the sweet pastry. The interplay of flavors was unexpectedly deep and lingering.
"Excellent, absolutely excellent!" Ning Yi was utterly amazed after taking a bite and couldn't help but ask Shen Ji where his family lived, even promising to visit soon to place an order for these egg yolk pastries. "Salty and sweet are opposing flavors, yet your sister's skill has harmonized them so perfectly. And the red bean paste is exceptional too! I’m a man who lives for good food and have tasted many red bean fillings, but this is the first time I’ve encountered one so silky smooth and delicate. It not only balances the richness of the yolk but adds another layer of warm, sweet fragrance. Truly marvelous, absolutely marvelous!"
Shen Ji was wide-eyed—it was his first time seeing someone who could practically compose an essay after just one bite of pastry.
Ning Yi, after finishing the egg yolk pastry, abandoned his plans to buy lamb pancakes and instead eagerly pestered Shopkeeper Zhou—Shen Ji had brought five pastries today, intending to eat two himself and give the remaining three to Shopkeeper Zhou.
Earlier, he had sold one to Ning Yi and eaten one himself, leaving none for him, but Grandpa Zhou still had one left uneaten.
This last pastry was something Grandpa Zhou had deliberately saved for his evening meal, so he shook his head vigorously like a rattle-drum and turned away, clutching the pastry box tightly. "No, no! You can't have it!"
What followed was a comical chase between Ning Yi and Grandpa Zhou over that single pastry, with Grandpa Zhou eventually cornered and even pursued into the back room.
Shen Ji watched in stunned silence. Having grown accustomed to his sister’s cooking, he never imagined Ning Yi could get so worked up over a single egg yolk pastry.
Then again, it wasn’t surprising—his sister’s culinary skills were truly unmatched! Sometimes Shen Ji even felt his sister had an endless well of brilliant ideas to create such exquisite treats.
At any rate, he had managed to secure another loyal customer for her!
He had planned to share this amusing incident with his sister, but the moment he returned home, she said, "Ji Brother, you’re finally back! Dinner’s in the pot—help yourself later. Keep an eye on Sister Xiang, the puppy, and the chicks. I’m heading out for a bit—I’ll be back soon!"
"Huh?"
Shen Ji stood dumbfounded at the doorstep, his back foot not even fully inside, as his sister dashed past him in a blur, vanishing in an instant. He barely caught a glimpse of the heavy wooden box she was clutching in her arms.
Shen Miao sprinted across Jinliang Bridge and then stormed into Old Man Yang’s house like a whirlwind.
"Old Man, I’ve come as promised to ask you to build me a house!"
The sudden declaration startled Old Man Yang, who nearly sliced his finger while planing wood on the ground. His apprentices stood frozen in shock.
Shen Miao pulled him along, then sought out Artisan He and his apprentices. With their recommendations, she gathered a crew of pile drivers, stonemasons, and laborers for hauling and odd jobs.
Once everyone was assembled, she fixed her blazing gaze on the bewildered craftsmen and declared with bold ambition, "One month, fifty strings of cash, three large tiled houses!"
Old Man Yang, Artisan He, and the others stood dumbstruck for a long moment before turning to leave in unison. "...We’re out."
"Wait, wait! The price is negotiable! We can still talk this over!"
