Perhaps it was because Pei Liang had single-handedly destroyed what had once been their bright prospects, and had not only stripped away their family’s long-buried secrets but also left her own name in tatters—notorious even now despite her current fortunes, with nothing but scorn and contempt behind her back.
So when Madam Wei first laid eyes on Pei Liang, she felt a flicker of fear.
But she quickly recovered, reminding herself that years had passed, and the Wei family was no longer what it used to be. Her daughter’s culinary skill was exquisite, earning the admiration of countless officials and nobles. Wealthy young gentlemen hovered around her day and night, and the formidable Li Shen secretly shielded her.
The Pei family had long since fallen. They had fled under cover of darkness years ago—that scene at the restaurant had clearly been nothing more than a last gasp of defiance. The Wei family had spent years building their reputation in the capital, and with the Pei family gone for so long, their old connections had long since dried up. The two families were no longer equals. Why should she fear this girl?
With that, Madam Wei broke into a smile. “Well, well—no wonder my eyelids have been twitching all morning. So we have a distinguished guest today. If it isn’t little Chef Pei?”
“What’s the matter? Little Chef Pei returning to old haunts—could it be you’ve forgotten your place and still think you're the young mistress of Fragrant Sky House? I can hardly blame you for lacking manners. After all, your family kept this establishment for generations. Seeing it all again must stir up such memories—it’s only natural you’d momentarily lose your bearings.”
“But you must understand—Fragrant Sky House now bears the Wei name. I run my own business and discipline my own staff. So I hope little Chef Pei won’t take offense at how I handle my own people.”
She shot a venomous glance at the servant who had shouted “young mistress,” mistakenly thinking her daughter had arrived, and sneered: “You’ve eaten Wei family rice for years and you still think you’re the Pei family’s dog?”
At her outburst, the faces of those who had brightened at seeing Pei Liang turned grim, and they dared not openly greet her.
Pei Liang merely smiled, casually taking a seat at a nearby table.
“It’s been a few years, but Madam Wei has certainly acquired an air of authority. I’m rather impressed. Truly, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it—that face that was once beaten black and blue, begging for mercy on the ground, snot and tears flowing into your mouth.”
Madam Wei’s face went pale with rage, fury surging through her.
But Pei Liang wasn’t finished. “Speaking of which, when you were dragged out and thrown into the backyard, paraded before all the chefs and servants of the restaurant—there are still some old-timers around who witnessed that.”
“So it’s not that I can’t tell where I stand. It’s that—when you put on all this airs before a crowd of people who remember exactly who you were—doesn’t your own face burn with shame? Or have age and failing memory simply let you forget everything?”
Madam Wei now presided over such a large establishment. With her daughter’s fame, officials and nobles treated her with smiles and flattery. But toward those of equal standing, or those beneath her—the hired help and common folk—she had long grown accustomed to having her way, speaking with absolute authority. Gone were the patience and cunning of her humbler days. At her core, she was cruel, sharp-tongued, and arrogant.
How could she stomach such humiliation from Pei Liang?
Madam Wei erupted: “You tramp from a bankrupt family! Look at who you think you are now! Bring a few hired thugs to puff yourself up, and you think you can run wild in my establishment?”
“The lot of you vanished like the dead for years—if you’d just stayed in whatever hole you were hiding in, we’d have left each other alone. I never went looking for you, and yet you dare come back!”
She laughed coldly. “Good. Fine. You coming back is perfect. All the shame and humiliation your family put me through—I’ll make you pay back tenfold, a hundredfold. And I see your hair’s still pinned like an unmarried girl—you don’t yet know what a woman’s misery tastes like, do you?”
Pei Liang turned and said from behind her: “Miss Wei, one must be quite a talent to make a public vow and then simply break it—what a way to silence so many voices.”
Madam Wei turned and saw her daughter standing just inside the restaurant entrance, her expression rather strained.
Wei Yingshu’s feelings toward Pei Liang were mixed—resentment and wariness. It was Pei Liang who had once sullied her reputation, shattered her delusions of moral superiority, and exposed the shameful side of her mother for all to see. If she had started out as a girl of pure intentions, well—human nature being what it was, when confronted with her mother’s disgraceful conduct, where her conscience landed versus family loyalty was a choice she had to make.
And Wei Yingshu had clearly chosen family. Once that line was crossed, there was no stopping the slide.
Unlike the helpless confusion of earlier years, with time and all the internal and external reinforcement, Wei Yingshu had probably come to a very different conclusion about what had happened back then.
Right now, hearing her mother spout such vitriol, she felt a mix of satisfaction and annoyance. The old woman had let Pei Liang provoke her into losing her composure. Why broadcast her intentions so loudly? While the Pei family was no longer what it had been, Pei Liang herself had gained considerable momentum lately, and she had her fair share of jealous detractors behind her back.
If she meant to tarnish Wei Yingshu’s reputation deliberately, the matters she hoped to achieve could become difficult indeed.
So Wei Yingshu pursed her lips and offered Pei Liang an apologetic smile: “Miss Pei, please don’t take offense. My mother has been suffering from insomnia and anxiety lately—irritable and quick to anger. Do forgive any rudeness.”
She then chided her mother: “Mother, a guest is a guest. Why would you scream at one like that?”
Years had passed, and the parent-child dynamic had clearly flipped. Madam Wei, at her daughter’s words, immediately quieted down and said no more.
When Pei Liang noticed Wei Yingshu made no response to the agreement they had once spoken of, an amused glint flashed in her eyes. The current Wei Yingshu was a far cry from the innocent, blindly passionate, somewhat naïve culinary devotee she had been in the original story.
Pei Liang glanced at the wooden signboard on the wall listing the restaurant’s specialties, then addressed Wei Yingshu: “Is the kitchen still serving meals at this hour?”
A flicker of barely concealed disdain crossed Wei Yingshu’s eyes, though her outward manners remained impeccable: “Of course. What would Miss Pei like to order?”
Pei Liang placed her order. But Wei Yingshu did not move—simply took the order sheet written by the head chef and headed into the kitchen with two apprentices in tow.
Madam Wei covered her mouth with a handkerchief and laughed: “Oh, please don’t mind, little Chef Pei. Our Yingshu is simply too busy these days. The distinguished guests who visit Fragrant Sky House every day—far more than in that old Pei era—all demand that she cook for them personally. But you see, one person only has so much energy, and she simply cannot accommodate every single patron.”
The message was clear: you, from a fallen household, are hardly worthy of having the famously-sought chef cook for you personally.
Though, to be fair, Madam Wei wasn’t wrong. In recent years, the proportion of high-ranking officials and nobles dining at Fragrant Sky House had indeed surpassed that of Pei Liang’s day.
After all, Pei Liang had only reached three-tenths of Grandpa Pei’s culinary mastery, and those hyper-discerning elite customers found cause for complaint and stopped coming.
And when the Wei family’s scandal was exposed by Pei Liang, though their regular clientele stopped visiting, young officials like Gao Lezhang—members of influential families—had practically made Fragrant Sky House their daily dining hall to prop up Wei Yingshu’s reputation. For their family banquets and celebration feasts, they insisted on hosting them at Fragrant Sky House. Years of this, combined with Wei Yingshu’s growing culinary renown and increasing favor from distinguished patrons, led her to deliberately take the “high-end route.”
Fragrant Sky House was her father’s lifelong obsession, so of course she would keep it running. But ordinary customers hoping for a taste of Chef Wei’s personal cooking? They’d have better luck reaching the moon.
It was already near noontime. After Pei Liang ordered, a few more guests filtered into Fragrant Sky House one by one. To her surprise, they turned out to be regulars from the old days when the Pei family ran the place.
Madam Wei and Wei Yingshu were startled. These people hadn't set foot in Celestial Fragrance House in years, but since they were all nearby shop owners or residents, they were still recognizable.
It turned out that when Pei Liang had gone to inspect the new restaurant across the way earlier, some sharp-eyed folk had spotted her. Most of the surrounding establishments were family businesses passed down through generations, and these were neighbors who had known each other for decades. They had watched Pei Liang grow up—how could they not recognize that face?
Then they saw her turn and enter Celestial Fragrance House, and when she didn't come out after quite a while, they knew there was bound to be some entertainment inside. Word spread like wildfire—one telling ten, ten telling a hundred—and old regulars along with pure curiosity seekers began filing in one after another.
A few would commandeer a table, order some dishes, and let their eyes drift toward Pei Liang and her party. By the time Pei Liang's food had been served in full, the restaurant was already bustling—a sight rarely seen these days.
Wei Yingshu said, "Since all the dishes are now on the table, I won't disturb you further. Enjoy your meal, Miss Pei."
But Pei Liang replied, "As a fellow cook, I'd think that the recognition of a peer would matter to you, Miss Wei. Unless you've stopped caring about the reputation of this establishment altogether?"
With Pei Liang putting it that way, how could Wei Yingshu possibly leave?
Someone in the crowd even chimed in: "The cook-off between you two young chefs a few years back is still fresh in our minds. Wei won that day, and Pei had no complaints—she handed over Celestial Fragrance House without a fuss. And at that time, Wei swore in front of Pei that she'd run the place well and never tarnish the name of a century-old establishment."
"Now that the lady's come back to take a look around, it's only proper that Wei stay and hear what Pei has to say, isn't it?"
In truth, everyone knew that oath had gone right out the window the moment it was spoken. And now that venomous woman of the Wei family was standing right there in the main hall.
If Wei Yingshu left now, it would be like admitting she was inferior. When it came to culinary skill, she still felt a smug superiority over Pei Liang, so she stayed put.
Pei Liang's order was modest: braised shark fin in brown sauce, four-joy meatballs, stir-fried dried tofu, and a winter melon and pork rib soup.
She took a sip of the shark fin broth first. With all those people around, not a single one dared to speak, afraid of drowning out her voice.
After a moment, Pei Liang set down her spoon and smiled at the head chef. "Uncle Lin's skills have sharpened even further. This shark fin is rich and succulent, silky on the palate, with a sauce that's perfect in both color and fragrance—thick, glossy, and lingering on the tongue. Your timing on the heat and seasoning has improved by more than a single notch compared to a few years ago."
Uncle Lin gave a bashful smile. "In our line of work, it's all about experience and age. I hardly deserve—well, Miss Pei, I'm flattered you'd single me out."
The surrounding crowd was sorely disappointed. Some muttered under their breath: "Isn't Pei here to stir up trouble? Why is she singing praises?"
"I don't buy that the Wei family, with that grasping, shortsighted shrew of a mother, can run this place well. Haven't you heard? These days, the guests at Celestial Fragrance House are sorted into grades."
"Probably because Wei Yingshu isn't taking the bait, and Pei, who used to work with the old staff from the Pei days, doesn't want to embarrass the old cook."
"No drama here—let's go, let's go—"
Just as some were about to get up, Pei Liang spoke again: "You do deserve it. Because if not for your steady hand, this braised shark fin would have been uneven in texture and practically inedible."
"Uncle Lin, you single-handedly saved this dish. Doesn't that warrant praise?"
The crowd's eyes lit up, and they sat right back down.
Wei Yingshu's face darkened. She had always been enormously proud of her cooking—even Pei Liang had lost to her back then. So why should she care about the other cooks in the kitchen?
She gave a sardonic smile. "Miss Pei certainly knows how to win people over, coming from a family that's run restaurants for generations. No wonder the staff here still moon over their old masters after all these years."
"Saying that Uncle Lin single-handedly saved the dish makes it sound like I, the head chef, am nothing but dead weight. Ask Uncle Lin himself—does he dare claim such a thing?"
Pei Liang smiled. "Miss Wei, I suspect these past few years you've kept your eyes so fixed upward that you've forgotten how to look down."
She reached for the spoon and stirred the thick, amber-colored sauce, revealing the translucent shark fin beneath.
Wei Yingshu's heart lurched. She whipped her head around to glare at Uncle Lin.
But Pei Liang spoke first: "Miss Wei, why take it out on Uncle Lin? Braised shark fin is a delicate, time-consuming dish. It requires hours of slow simmering—the shark fin with duck, old hen, ham, and steamed dried scallops over a low flame, so the fin can fully absorb the essence of those ingredients."
"Even if Uncle Lin wanted to put out a proper, presentable dish for the sake of the restaurant's reputation, he'd need the time to do it, wouldn't he?"
The crowd was half-following, half-lost. Then Pei Liang scooped a spoonful of shark fin into a small bowl of clear water beside her.
Stripped of its thick, amber sauce, the fin revealed its true form.
A few seasoned gourmands in the crowd had already cottoned on. They pointed at Madam Wei and cursed: "Just as suspected—a leopard never changes its spots."
"What is it?" someone impatiently demanded.
Pei Liang said, "This shark fin isn't one whole piece."
"Shark fin is divided by parts—there are loose fins, hooked fins, and wing slices. Each part differs in thickness, length, and texture, and so requires different handling times."
"In a proper bowl of braised shark fin, if the pieces are uneven in softness and chew, how is anyone supposed to swallow it? Did customers come here paying top dollar for a signature dish made from scraps you didn't want?"
"You, the Wei family, run Celestial Fragrance House—and you stew mixed trimmings from different parts of fin into one bowl. The only reason this fin came out tasting uniform is that Uncle Lin, with his sharp attention, compensated for it. If he hadn't, no one would have noticed the problem—so whose credit is that, if not his?"
"While simmering, Uncle Lin had to keep constant watch on time and heat, adding each different cut of fin at the right moment, adjusting precisely so that a heap of offcuts could become something fit to serve."
Uncle Lin's face showed shame. "A cook shouldn't cut corners or pass off inferior goods as premium. Alas!"
By now, the diners understood. They erupted in abuse at the Wei mother and daughter: "Absolutely outrageous! Greedy, cunning, vicious, and ignorant—you Weis have it all!"
"When the Pei family ran this place, not once in over a hundred years did anything like this happen. Quite the accomplishment, widow Wei."
Wei Yingshu once again experienced the feeling of being denounced by a hundred fingers, of being spat upon by all. Pei Liang had not been here more than a few moments, and already she had ripped down years of Wei Yingshu's glory and ground it under her heel. She truly was an irreconcilable enemy.
A murderous glint flickered in Wei Yingshu's almond-shaped eyes. But Madam Wei hurriedly raised her voice in defense: "Nonsense! We never passed off inferior goods!"
"Celestial Fragrance House serves distinguished guests all day long. Surely they know better than the lot of you? Of course we have whole pieces of braised shark fin. But what, are we supposed to throw away perfectly good premium ingredients just because we don't use them all?"
"Naturally, we sell them at a lower grade for a lower price. It's a matter of mutual agreement between buyer and seller. Where's the fraud in that?"
Then she gave Pei Liang a contemptuous once-over. "Everyone knows the Pei family lost half their fortune and had to leave the capital. I refuse to believe that old man Pei Fugui could rebuild his wealth from nothing in just a few years."
"I was simply being kind to little Miss Pei, pitying her reduced circumstances—she still tries to keep up appearances and order such expensive dishes. That's why I gave her the lower-grade fin, to save a bit of coin for the family's daily bread."
That mouth of Madam Wei's—she twisted black into white better than anyone. If most of the people present didn't already know her true nature, she might have gotten away with it.
Pei Liang, however, couldn't have cared less. She smiled and said, "But the menu doesn't specify that this shark's fin soup comes in different grades, and there's only one price listed."
"Head Steward Wei, how exactly do you decide which grade a customer wants? Or is it that your pair of discerning, wealth-gauging eyes make the judgment for you?"
The crowd burst into laughter. Wasn't the Wei family exactly that—a pair of wealth-gauging eyes? They fawned over the rich and powerful while brushing off ordinary customers with the bare minimum of effort.
Here was a restaurant owner who, on her own whim, decided which grade of dish a customer was worthy of. Looking down on people like a dog barking at the poor, and saying it as if it were the most natural thing in the world—it was simply laughable.
The mother and daughter of the Wei family turned red as pig's liver with embarrassment, but Pei Liang didn't push the shark's fin issue any further.
She picked up her chopsticks again and took a bite of the four-happiness meatball, chewing it slowly and carefully.
Wei Yingshu sneered: "What now? Has Miss Pei found something else to complain about? If the flavor of a dish made from ordinary pork and spices doesn't suit your taste, then that's a matter of skill, wouldn't you say?"
Pei Liang said casually: "Miss Wei, it's a bit too early to say that. If a restaurant has a problem with passing off inferior goods as premium, it wouldn't just stop at the rare ingredients. Someone who's used to cutting corners would show it in every aspect."
"But what I'd like to ask you, Miss Wei, is this: do you only consider the distinguished guests, for whom you personally step into the kitchen, as your customers? Are the ordinary patrons—the ones who form the very foundation of any restaurant—simply beneath your notice?"
How could Wei Yingshu possibly admit to such an accusation? She glared at Pei Liang, about to fire back.
But Pei Liang spoke first: "What I mean is, Miss Wei, as the head chef in charge of the entire kitchen, how long has it been since you actually tasted the dishes coming out of that kitchen and done any quality control?"
With that, she handed over a clean pair of chopsticks: "Miss Wei, please!"
Wei Yingshu, already backed into a corner, had no choice but to take the chopsticks and take a bite. And sure enough, she immediately found the problem.
But her expression relaxed slightly—she didn't seem to think it was a big deal.
Just as she was about to speak, she heard Pei Liang laugh softly: "Why does Miss Wei look so relieved?"
"Any other head chef would be burning with shame right now."
"You—"
"Let's set aside the quality of the meat for now. This dish doesn't use a choice cut. In the old days, Heavenly Fragrance House always used the best front pork shoulder. Now that the Wei family runs the place, deciding that another cut works better—well, there's not much to say about that."
"The quality of the other spices, sauces, and the freshness of the scallions—they're passable, I suppose. But the water chestnuts in these meatballs..."
"As everyone knows, adding minced water chestnuts to four-happiness meatballs cuts through the grease and enhances the freshness, adding a nice texture. Unless someone has a particular love for heavy, rich dishes, half a meatball the size of a fist is enough to make you feel greasy. The water chestnuts neutralize that, and their crisp, pleasant bite is what keeps you from getting sick of it. You could say they're the key to the whole dish."
"And the water chestnuts used should naturally be the finest—crisp, plump, full of sweet juice. But the water chestnuts in this dish..."
Pei Liang furrowed her brow, her eyes full of undisguised disgust: "I don't even need to go into the kitchen to know that this batch of water chestnuts is bland, watery, and lacking in substance."
"If Uncle Lin hadn't added extra ginger juice and chopped scallions to mask the fishiness, and thrown in some minced lotus root for good measure, this plate of meatballs would have ruined your reputation."
"So I'm curious—why does Miss Wei think this is just a minor issue?"
"That's right," said a connoisseur in the crowd. "If a four-happiness meatball is so greasy it's hard to swallow, then why would anyone come to this restaurant to eat? Any regular eatery could do the same."
"Just as Chef Pei said—if the Wei family is cutting corners on quality, they wouldn't just stop at a few ingredients."
"Good thing I haven't been to Heavenly Fragrance House in years."
"Can I cancel my order? You've got problems with your food—don't even bring it to the table. Don't worry, I'll still pay for the tea."
Wei Yingshu's ears turned bright red. She wished she could crawl into a crack in the floor and disappear.
The crowd in the main hall was all talking at once—some sneering at the Wei family's lack of integrity, others gossiping about the family's scandals over the past few years.
Wei Yingshu felt utterly humiliated in front of Pei Liang, the woman she'd once considered a defeated rival.
She silently prayed for someone to rescue her from this predicament. And it seemed heaven heard her plea.
A group of men burst in—it was the son of the newly appointed Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture, leading a squad of constables.
As soon as he entered, he barked: "All of you, shut up! Gathering to cause trouble, do you want a beating? You're not ordering food, so why are you occupying someone's restaurant? Get out. All of you, now!"
Then he turned to Wei Yingshu with a look of concern: "Yingshu, are you all right? I heard someone was giving you trouble."
His gaze then narrowed onto Pei Liang like a blade.
Pei Liang just smiled: "What, I can't have a meal at a restaurant? I can't point out when the food is bad?"
The Prefect's son sneered: "Prison food isn't good either—go ahead and complain all you want there."
Pei Liang shrugged and stood up: "Fine then. Since the establishment doesn't welcome me, I'll be on my way."
But before she left, she tipped the plate of stir-fried dried tofu directly onto the table, looking at the people across from her: "This dried tofu is from last night. I'm afraid someone might get diarrhea if they eat it after it's been taken back to the kitchen. Not too much to dump it out, is it?"
The crowd heading for the door gasped.
Given everything that had happened before, they had no reason to doubt Pei Liang's word.
But day-old dried tofu? Even the shabbiest little shop wouldn't stoop that low, would they?
They were still reeling from the shock of the Wei family's shameless profiteering when they heard Chef Pei add one more thing—
"Oh, by the way. In seven days, the number one restaurant across the street will have its grand opening, and everything will be twenty percent off. All our old patrons are welcome to come and show their support."
"It's just that I haven't finished hiring staff yet. Such a worry, such a worry."
"Pfft!" Someone in the crowd couldn't hold back their laughter.
