Cen Zhi was a traveling merchant who roamed far and wide. Having just traded some northern furs, he walked with a light step, leading his camel along the bustling Bian River, where boats and ships came and went, until he reached the Golden Beam Bridge. Bathed in sunlight, he glanced around—the capital city of Bianjing was as lively as ever, and it seemed even more prosperous than when he had last visited half a year ago.
The furs he had brought this time were of excellent quality, and he had just exchanged them for a stack of banknotes. Feeling relaxed and content, he decided to find a tavern to buy some wine and meat for a meal.
As a merchant who frequently traveled between the north and south, his journeys often took half a year, leaving him somewhat unfamiliar with the sights and customs of Bianjing. After some thought, he vaguely recalled a nearby eatery called Kang’s, where he had eaten mutton last winter—the taste had been quite good.
But he couldn’t remember which side of the Golden Beam Bridge Kang’s was on. Standing on the bridge and looking around, he noticed a small shop on the opposite riverbank with a bustling crowd at its entrance. There was a faint clamor, and it seemed people were still rushing toward it.
His curiosity piqued, he immediately led his camel in that direction.
Cen Zhi had always loved a good spectacle. The scar on his face was a souvenir from one such occasion—he had once been so engrossed in watching a married couple argue and fight that he leaned in too close, eager to hear every word. Just as he stuck his head between the brawling pair, the fierce wife, mid-swing at her husband, accidentally scratched him, leaving a mark that remained to this day.
Yet far from mending his ways, his habit had only grown worse over the years.
Now, whenever there was a commotion, he would rush over without a second thought. If he missed one, he would even regret it for days, scratching his head in frustration, desperate to know what had happened.
Hurriedly dragging his camel closer, he saw that it was a noodle shop—though not particularly large, it was cleaner than most, with tiled floors being the only notable difference.
Inside, there were only five or six tables and chairs, but the place was packed. A crowd had gathered at the entrance, and both inside and outside the shop, curious onlookers—neighbors and passersby like himself—had gathered. Some had even arrived by carriage, parking at a distance before rushing over on foot.
Puzzled, Cen Zhi approached and saw that the crowd was gathered around two long tables, each guarded by two sturdy men, with a young boy assisting by reading out words.
The tables were covered with red cloth and held two large bamboo tubes filled with wooden sticks, each topped with a red mark.
Young women and men crowded around the tables, eagerly shaking the tubes until, with a snap, a paper-wrapped stick would tumble out. They would snatch it up, step aside, and carefully peel back the edge to reveal its contents.
While those in front were still nervously unwrapping their sticks, those behind were already pushing forward for their turn.
Cen Zhi was baffled—was this noodle shop also offering fortune-telling?
Just as he was about to ask, a dark-skinned man nearby suddenly raised his arms and cheered as if possessed, "I got it! I got it! Dog, read it for me—what does it say? 'Fish play among new lotus leaves, birds scatter as petals fall'? Yes! It’s the lotus-leaf ceramic pot I’ve been dreaming of! I finally drew it!"
With that, he clutched his stick and dashed inside.
Behind him, a few young women stamped their feet in frustration. "I got 'When life is joyful, drink your fill—don’t let the golden cup sit empty under the moon' again! Ugh, I already have three wine discount vouchers!"
"Same! I have two 'Bamboo rain, pine wind, the sound of a zither; tea steam, wutong moonlight, the whisper of books.' It’s so strange—I don’t even like tea, yet I keep getting tea vouchers! Shiyiniang, what about you? What did you get?"
The round-faced young woman called Shiyiniang grinned triumphantly. "I got 'Amid the lush greenery of the world, even simple meals bring joy'—it’s a free plate of vegetables. Not bad, since I love all of Shopkeeper Shen’s dishes."
The other two sighed enviously and nodded toward another group of young women. "But I really want that mermaid doll on her embroidered pouch. I just can’t seem to draw it!"
"I want the wooden fish keychain, but no luck either."
Following their gaze, Cen Zhi noticed that some of the young women had small, plush dolls attached to their embroidered pouches—round-faced, smiling figures with human torsos and upturned fish tails, exquisitely crafted.
Others deliberately displayed large key rings with wooden carvings of red-capped carp, engraved with the words "Fortune Smiles Upon You."
After some hesitation, the young women conferred. "Should we order a few more grilled fish dishes to earn more draws? I have to get it today!"
"Good idea. I’ll order more too. Shopkeeper Shen’s grilled fish is the best anyway, and we can save the extras for later. But after the festival, the draws will end, and the VIP discount will go from 10% off to just 5%. Better stock up now!"
"Come on, let’s go—before they run out!"
Eavesdropping, Cen Zhi grew restless. After some internal debate, he tied his camel to a post, asked one of the men to keep an eye on it, and followed the crowd inside.
Most of the people inside were lining up to exchange their draws. Cen Zhi joined the back of the queue and, after asking the person ahead, finally understood what was happening.
It turned out that Shen’s Noodle Shop was celebrating the Lotus Festival with a new promotion. Here’s how it worked:
Shopkeeper Shen had created a batch of "VIP cards." Anyone who had ever eaten at Shen’s—even just a plate of fried soybeans—could join for free.
Shopkeeper Shen would register the member’s name, address, and birthday in a ledger. For these two festival days, VIP cardholders enjoyed a 10% discount on all purchases.
During the festival, every 260 coins spent entitled the customer to one draw. No draw was empty—each stick came with a prize: some offered free side dishes, others discounts on wine or tea, and some gave small fans, wooden carvings, embroidered dolls, or even ceramic pots.
Standing on tiptoe, Cen Zhi watched as the dark-skinned man from earlier squeezed through the crowd, proudly carrying his prize—a ceramic pot shaped like a lotus stem, its lid inlaid with a lotus leaf, intricately carved in an antique style.
When Cen Zhi finally reached the counter, a beautiful young woman stood behind it, smiling warmly. "Welcome, sir! Are you here to order fish or exchange your draw?"
Cen Zhi asked humbly, "What do you mean by 'order fish'?"
"Our grilled fish is 98 coins per serving. If you’re a VIP, ordering three servings at once earns you one draw. We offer exclusive services for VIPs—if you order multiple servings but can’t finish them all at once, you can store the extras with us. We’ll note it down, and you can come back to enjoy them anytime later."
So this was how they stored fish! Cen Zhi suddenly understood, then looked up and down at the beautiful young woman before him with admiration. She was a born merchant! What a clever way to sell fish!
To be fair, when people came to a shop to buy food, most would purchase just enough for one meal. But this young woman had a different approach—she lured customers into buying fish in advance through a lottery system. Many, eager to participate in the draw, ended up storing more fish than they needed, some even stocking up over a dozen portions. How long would it take them to finish all that?
Just as this thought crossed Cen Zhi’s mind, the young woman seemed to read his hesitation. With a smile, she added, "The fish you store with us isn’t just for you! Once you’ve stored your fish, I’ll give you fish vouchers. You can gift them to friends or family—they can redeem the vouchers for fish anytime. And these vouchers are valid for a whole year! As long as it’s not our day off, you can come whenever you like."
This reassurance eased many people’s concerns. With a whole year to use the vouchers, they could either take their time eating the fish themselves, gift them to others, or even resell them if they wished. So what was the harm in storing a few extra portions?
Cen Zhi, however, was still hesitant. It was his first time here, and he didn’t know if the food was any good. If he stored too much fish now, he might end up leaving Bianjing for his trade trips before finishing it all—what a waste that would be!
Forget it, he thought, turning to leave. But just then, the young woman let out a soft sigh.
"However, this fish-storage lottery promotion is only running for these two days. As you can see, my shop is small, and hosting this event is actually a loss for me. If it weren’t to thank our loyal customers, I wouldn’t have the heart to do it. But look at these prizes—the ceramic basins, the folding fans, the wooden carvings—aren’t they exquisite? And you can’t find them anywhere else; I had them specially made. So if you miss this chance, you won’t get to win these lovely items later. I’m not saying this to sell more fish—I just think it’d be a shame for you to miss out on such a fun event, don’t you agree?"
Cen Zhi’s heart skipped a beat. The one thing he couldn’t stand was missing out on excitement! After a moment’s thought, he gritted his teeth and pulled out a small string of coins. "Three portions… of this… grilled fish?"
"Wonderful! May I have your name, address, and birth month? When your birthday month comes around, remember to visit—we’ll give you a complimentary bowl of longevity noodles!"
Cen Zhi answered carefully, watching as the young woman recorded his details in a peculiar "VIP Membership Book" lined with grids. Under "VIP Name," she wrote "Cen Zhi," under "Membership Date," "June 14th, Baoyuan Year 3," and under "Address," the inn where he was staying. She also noted his birth month as "September 18th" and finally wrote "Three" under "Fish Stored."
Once registered, the young woman tore off three stiff paper tickets made of wood pulp, glued one end, and stamped them with the "Shen’s Noodle Shop" seal—once on the front, once on the back, and another overlapping stamp on the side. The tickets bore the shop’s name, the quantity, and some illegible scribbles scattered about like wriggling earthworms—likely her anti-counterfeit measure.
"Mr. Cen, take these tickets to the entrance for your lottery draw," she said with a smile, gesturing for the next customer to step forward.
Before Cen Zhi could reply, a burly man carrying his daughter on his shoulders, who had been waiting impatiently behind him, shoved him aside and slapped three full strings of coins onto the counter.
"Thirty portions!"
Cen Zhi was stunned. Thirty? That was a lot!
Even the shopkeeper, Madam Shen, tried to dissuade him. "Sir, please store only what you can eat. Don’t overdo it—spend within your means. I appreciate your trust, but you should consume rationally."
Yet the more she advised, the more determined the man became. "I’m storing that much. I refuse to believe I won’t draw the silk doll!"
He gently patted his sniffling daughter and comforted her, "Don’t cry, sweetheart. Daddy has money—we’ll keep drawing until we get the prettiest mermaid doll, alright?"
With a resigned sigh, Madam Shen processed his order, gave him his change, and handed over thirty fish tickets, each stamped meticulously. "Here you go," she said with a smile.
The man immediately carried his daughter outside to draw their prizes.
Cen Zhi followed to try his luck, but with only one draw, his luck was poor—he won nothing but a discount coupon for drinks.
Still, he didn’t leave. Instead, he stood by with his camel, engrossed in watching others draw. Many, like him, couldn’t afford to keep drawing but stayed to spectate, creating a lively crowd around the table that attracted even more curious onlookers. Some, after learning about the promotion, also went to store fish.
Some were as restrained as Cen Zhi, storing just three portions for one draw before stopping. Others, stubbornly refusing to believe they were unlucky, drew four, five, even over a dozen times.
One lucky winner drew a "hidden" grand prize—a purple-robed silk doll holding a gold ingot, said to appear only once in dozens of draws! The crowd erupted in cheers, as thrilled as if they’d won themselves. Others, failing repeatedly, angrily threw their discount coupons to the ground, drawing sympathetic groans from bystanders.
Cen Zhi ended up standing there all day, watching. Several times, seeing others’ excitement, he felt the urge to store three more fish for another draw—but he resisted. As a traveling merchant, every coin was hard-earned, and he had a wife and children waiting at home. After much deliberation, he held back from further extravagance.
Still, the day was immensely entertaining—fun and thrilling in its own way.
As night fell, Shen’s Noodle Shop began serving dinner, and the lottery table was carried inside. Those hoping to draw again would have to wait until the shop reopened the next day.
Most of the crowd didn’t disperse. Having stored fish, they decided to redeem a portion for dinner.
Cen Zhi also claimed one grilled fish and eagerly took a seat. Soon, he spotted the burly man again, now with his wife and child, proudly carrying the exquisite ceramic basin he’d won. In a booming voice, he requested Madam Shen to cook his fish in the lotus-leaf basin instead of a regular one, then sat at the central table, chest puffed out with satisfaction.
When Cen Zhi’s grilled fish arrived, so did the man’s.
The man looked even more triumphant—his was the only fish in the entire shop served in a unique basin!
He was eating the same dish as Cen Zhi—a new flavor, the sour and spicy golden soup lotus root belt grilled fish. The broth was golden yellow, dotted with floating peppercorns, while thin strands of lotus root belt nestled beneath the fish, served in a lotus leaf-shaped clay pot that perfectly complemented the dish, making it a feast for both the eyes and the palate.
Several customers who hadn’t managed to win the clay pot in the day’s lottery immediately gathered around. Some praised his luck, others admired the lifelike lotus leaf design, and still others complimented the intricate carvings… In short, things one didn’t possess always seemed more desirable once someone else had them.
Clay pots were inherently less valuable than porcelain, even considered cheap in the past. But Shen Miao had cleverly assigned them rarity by making them a lottery prize, so no one spoke of their original worth anymore—only their exclusivity, which now made them seem precious.
As a merchant, Cen Zhi easily saw through the trick, but he couldn’t deny Shen Miao’s ingenuity in luring people in. He glanced down at his grilled fish. A layer of spicy oil floated atop the broth, the rich aroma of fish mingling with the pungent sour-spicy scent that made his mouth water, urging him to take a bite.
He picked up a piece of fish. The flesh was tender yet firm, not mushy, with a slight bounce to it. Some parts had separated from the bones, revealing delicate white streaks tinged with pink—proof that the fish had been freshly killed, a mark of good quality.
Cen Zhi nodded in approval and took a sip of the broth. The explosion of sour and spicy flavors on his tongue was perfectly balanced—fiery but not overwhelming, tangy but not excessive. His appetite was instantly whetted!
The fish was fresh, the broth rich, and the lotus root belt underneath was crisp as bamboo shoots, soaked in the sour-spicy soup. Each bite was crunchy, bursting with juices, thoroughly infused with flavor. Paired with a bowl of steamed rice, each grain distinct and fluffy, and a ladle of the sour broth poured over it—the meal was pure satisfaction!
By the time he finished, Cen Zhi was warm all over, his body humming with contentment.
Wiping his sweat, he exhaled in satisfaction, finally understanding why so many customers were willing to prepay for fish at Shen’s. Shen Miao had countless tricks to attract patrons, but people fell for them because her cooking was simply that good!
Such delicious grilled fish—what harm was there in paying in advance for a few servings? Besides, prepaying came with the lottery, and it was cheaper than usual. Why not take advantage?
Even Cen Zhi found himself calculating as he ate. Shen’s offered three flavors of grilled fish, and he had already prepaid for three servings. He could come back tomorrow and the day after to try them all.
Otherwise, he’d feel like he hadn’t gotten his fill.
Ah—was this why Shen Miao had set the rule of "three fish per draw"? Truly shrewd.
Later, Cen Zhi redeemed his liquor voucher. Originally, he had only planned to buy a small jug to sip leisurely with his meal. But Shen Miao pointed to a line of fine print—he had to purchase three jugs to use the voucher!
Annoyed, he thought her too cunning, but then she explained that any leftover liquor could be stored, and on average, each jug would be three coins cheaper than buying individually. "The liquor is still yours—you’re just paying ahead. Isn’t that better?"
Once again, he was persuaded. He obediently handed over forty-five coins, drank one jug that evening, and stored the other two.
As he ate, he mused that since he still had two more fish, they’d pair perfectly with the remaining liquor… Later, flushed and tipsy, Cen Zhi failed to realize that even as a seasoned merchant, he had still tumbled headfirst into the seemingly reasonable but aptly named "prepaid spending" trap.
He finished his meal at a leisurely pace, downed the last of his liquor, and staggered out of the shop, belching.
His camel was still tied up outside. Blinking blearily, he stared at it, counting with his fingers in confusion. "Hic… how do I have three camels now? No, wait—why does this camel have three heads?"
The camel, forgotten and starving after being tied up all day, pawed the ground irritably. Its drunken master, oblivious, tried to climb onto its back. The camel, now thoroughly provoked, whipped its head around, glaring furiously before spraying him with a mouthful of foul-smelling spit.
"You beast! Rebelling against your master?!" Cen Zhi roared.
The only reply was another wet, stinking blast from the camel.
Late at night, Shen Miao finally bid farewell to the last table of customers.
For the first time, she was so exhausted her back ached. As she closed the shop’s wooden panels, she reflected that the promotion had been more successful than expected. She’d worried no one would prepay—after all, it required trust. What if she shut down and ran off with the money? To ease such concerns, she had to prove her worth.
The key was making people believe her shop wouldn’t fail. And that depended on the quality of her fish.
If it was good, business would thrive, and customers would gladly prepay.
That’s why this promotion had to happen now—not when she’d just opened, nor when she’d introduced new dishes without an established clientele. Coincidentally, other shops had started serving grilled fish too, inadvertently advertising for her. After all, everyone who tried them would say, "Such-and-such place also has grilled fish like Shen’s!" or "How does such-and-such shop’s grilled fish compare to Shen’s?"
She was the first to offer it, and most who tasted her fish couldn’t forget it. Even if they found "new favorites" elsewhere, they’d still compare them to her "old reliable." With that reputation, launching the promotion now was effortless.
After closing, Shen Miao checked the backyard. Youyu had dozed off while scrubbing clay pots, Aunt Gu had gone home rubbing her sore back, and Sister Xiang and Chen Chuan had collapsed on the front porch without even washing their faces.
At least the weather was warm—otherwise, they’d catch a cold sleeping like that.
Shen Miao draped quilts over them. They’d closed so late tonight, but she’d anticipated it and arranged for Youyu to stay over after his "overtime."
She shooed Youyu off to bed, leaving the remaining pots to be washed in the morning.
Lei Ting and Zhuifeng were asleep by the gate, Zhuifeng snoring like a saw, loud and uneven, making Lei Ting press his paws over his ears, his brow furrowed in annoyance.
Shen Miao extinguished the courtyard lanterns and, holding a candle, made two trips to haul the day’s earnings to the cellar, where she happily counted the money.
Today, she’d gained about a hundred new members. Among them, roughly a third had only dipped their toes in, prepaying for three fish. Even if they didn’t win anything, they wouldn’t prepay more—these were the frugal ones.
Another third had more disposable income, prepaying for ten or twenty fish, content with whatever they won in the lottery. They were satisfied and still rational, not going overboard.
There was also a small group of people—the legendary "big spenders" who would throw money around without a second thought. They didn’t just want to draw lots; they wanted to collect them all! Shen Miao recalled that the most extravagant was a plump, wealthy gentleman who had prepaid for eighty servings of fish, refusing to stop until he finally drew the coveted mermaid doll in purple robes from the blind box.
Guarding a pile of copper coins, Shen Miao counted until her hands ached, and still, she hadn’t finished. There were even bits of broken silver mixed in, which she’d have to weigh later to determine the exact amount.
But this wasn’t pure profit. After all, most customers wouldn’t pay for their fish later! She’d still need to tally the accounts to see how many servings of fish remained unclaimed before deducting costs to calculate the gross profit.
After putting the money away, Shen Miao returned to rest, exhausted but pleased.
Her blind box event would run for one more day tomorrow, so she needed to recharge. Today, the crowd had just gotten the hang of it, and she expected even more visitors the next day.
She had already posted a notice that the shop would close for half a day the day after, advising customers not to come in vain. That meant tomorrow was the last day of the festive lottery.
She also had to attend a banquet at the Xie residence. In her mind, she rehearsed the investment pitch she’d been refining for days, ensuring it was polite, logical, and persuasive.
Meanwhile, Shopkeeper Kang, who had spent the day watching in despair outside Shen’s shop, returned to his own store with a heart full of anguish. Sitting behind the counter, he propped his forehead on his hand and sighed repeatedly.
His heart felt utterly chilled.
A clever young clerk in the shop approached and whispered, "Boss, why the long face? If Madam Shen can play these tricks, so can we! Starting tomorrow, let’s issue… VIP cards or something, and have customers prepay for fish too!"
Shopkeeper Kang looked at him as if he were an idiot, pushing the pockmarked face away with a finger. Weakly, he said, "Let me ask you—if you’d already prepaid for fish at Shen’s place, would you still go to another shop to eat?"
The clerk stammered, "Well…"
"Besides, can we magically produce all these strange, extravagant gifts for customers by tomorrow? Do you think it’s that easy, just flapping your lips and making it happen?" Shopkeeper Kang’s frustration boiled over. "I thought you were sharp, but turns out you’re just another fool!"
The clerk fell silent.
Shopkeeper Kang tugged at his hair in frustration.
He had underestimated her. Her earlier inaction wasn’t out of fear—she simply hadn’t considered them worth her attention!
With her VIP cards and prepaid fish blind box event, she had locked customers into her shop, not only making a fortune but effortlessly dismantling their attempts to suppress and corner her.
Why couldn’t anyone in his shop come up with such brilliant ideas?
Irritated, Shopkeeper Kang shooed the clerk away and resumed his sighing.
At the Xie residence on Bell and Drum West Street near the Great Xiangguo Temple…
Xie Shiyiniang cradled the two dolls she had drawn from the blind box, humming a tune from The Tale of Minister Wang Divorcing His Wife, as she headed to the seamstress’s quarters. She wanted the seamstress to tailor two outfits for her dolls!
The little dolls from Shen’s shop were adorably crafted—round heads, round bodies, round tails. The mermaid doll she had drawn had an orange tail, utterly charming, but its outfit was shoddy, with poor fabric. She planned to dress it in fine gossamer silk!
Just as Shiyiniang stepped excitedly over the threshold of the sewing room in the northwest courtyard, she was surprised to see Ninth Brother already inside.
The family’s most skilled seamstress was hanging a newly finished dark green duijin jacket embroidered with silver lotus patterns on a high stand, smoothing the sleeves for him to inspect.
Ninth Brother was supposed to be on break from the academy—what was he doing here? Shiyiniang froze in surprise, then found her gaze irresistibly drawn to the exquisite garment.
The robe was breathtakingly beautiful! The fabric flowed like clouds, the embroidery as delicate as mist, as if bringing to life the line from The Songs of Chu: "Clad in robes of azure, adorned with white rainbows."
But… as stunning as it was, who was this robe for?
Shiyiniang blinked, then suddenly brightened—could it be… a surprise gift from her brother?
