Lin Wu rolled up her sleeves, washed her hands clean, and began to knead the dough until it became smooth and elastic, then covered it with a damp cloth to rest and rise. While waiting for the dough to proof, she turned to preparing the filling.
These days, filled steamed buns with meat were already made quite elaborately, mostly with lamb, and the additions were numerous—besides the lamb and seasonings, people liked to toss in pine nuts and almonds. Lin Wu, however, wasn't fond of that. It made her feel like she was eating a five-nut mooncake bun, losing the true flavor of the meat. So she didn't add any of that, and instead made solid, meaty, pure savory pork buns.
But the chestnuts in a small basket nearby caught her attention. These were common in the mountains and nothing special to look at. She quietly took a few, boiled them until cooked, carefully peeled out the golden-yellow chestnut kernels, then crushed them with a wooden spoon and mixed in a little sugar to make some sweet filling.
By then, the dough had risen—fluffy and soft. She kneaded it again, divided it into evenly sized portions, and rolled each into a wrapper that was thicker in the center and thinner at the edges. Scooping in the filling, pinching and sealing the tops in one smooth motion, she pleated each bun with fine, even folds. Soon, rows of plump, snow-white buns lined the board.
By the time her steamer was billowing with fragrant steam, most of the other women had already finished and carried their dishes out. The kitchen was left to her alone, watching the heat.
"Oho, these buns are beautiful!" The young servant who had led her in earlier came back to check on things. Seeing the buns just out of the steamer, he praised them, then asked, "But why do a few of these have little yellow spots on them?"
"The ones with the yellow spots are chestnut-filled, sweet ones," Lin Wu replied as she tidied up the stove. "Just a mark so they don't get mixed up."
"Sweet?" The young servant gave her a curious second look. Having traveled with the caravan far and wide, he'd seen plenty of savory meat buns, both plain and fancy, but a sweet bun stuffed with chestnuts was a first for him. He found it unusual but didn't pry further, picked up the tray piled with buns, and hurried out.
The young servant carried the buns into a guest room.
"Ah, those two cooks had to fall ill now of all times—both at once, no less," Manager Zhang sighed as the young man entered. "This little place makes it hard to find a decent cook. Of the few dishes sent over just now, only the meat preserves and oven-roasted chicken from that woman in the blue jacket were passable."
"Uncle Zhang, if you ask me, let's just stock up on dry rations for the road and make do!" The young servant set the tray of buns on the table and muttered, "These temporary women from town—what can they really make? Just rough, everyday home cooking. They don't have broad experience, and their families aren't well-off. How can they compare to proper vendors who live by their cooking skills?"
"You and I can eat dry rations, but do you expect the master to chew on cold, hard flatbread too?" Manager Zhang shot him a look, then his gaze shifted to the buns just brought in. "Hmm, these buns have a bit of a look to them. Seem quite soft and fluffy."
He reached out and picked one up. The soft, yielding touch of the bun surprised him slightly. "Not bad, indeed very soft. The dough proofed beautifully."
"The first bite is mild, and the meat filling is seasoned just right—savory and fragrant." He nodded approvingly after taking a bite. Unlike the fancy buns stuffed with a medley of nuts, this one had a solid filling with rich, juicy meat, paired with a soft, airy exterior that soaked up all the savory juices. It gave a simple, hearty sense of satisfaction.
"Is it really that good?" The young servant took one with some skepticism, bit off a large chunk, paused for a moment in his chewing, then stopped talking altogether and wolfed it down one bite after another.
After scarfing down the entire bun in no time, he wiped his mouth and praised it sincerely: "Delicious! Truly delicious! Uncle Zhang, I've eaten my fair share of good things traveling with the caravan, but a savory bun that hits the spot like this? First time!"
Meanwhile, Manager Zhang tried one of the buns marked with the yellow dot. One bite, and a hint of surprise crossed his face. "This one's actually sweet?"
"Excellent!" After savoring it, he couldn't help but admire it aloud. "This sweet filling is quite creative. The chestnut filling is sweet just right—soft and smooth getting down. It feels like this is how it was always meant to taste."
The natural sweetness of the chestnuts and their creamy texture melted on the tongue, with no bitterness at all—only a gentle, warm sweetness.
Seeing this, the young servant curiously reached for one of the sweet buns.
Manager Zhang was quick, slapping him lightly on the back of the hand with a sharp "smack." "You greedy thing! These are for the master."
"Uncle Zhang," the young servant pulled his hand back with a grin, "the master is still at the inn. By the time we take them over, they'll be cold and lose their flavor. Why don't we just hire that woman for the trip? Then there'll be plenty to eat on the road." He was scheming in his heart, hoping for another bun.
"Hmph, don't think I don't know what's going through that head of yours. Keep these buns warm on the stove and send someone to the inn to fetch the insulated food box so we can pack them up." The master was fond of sweets, so the sweet buns should suit his taste.
After the young servant left, Manager Zhang carried the plate with the remaining buns back to the kitchen.
Seeing Lin Wu still standing quietly in the corner with her hands folded, he addressed her in a warm tone: "Madam, excellent skill. These buns are wonderfully made—especially the sweet ones. Quite original."
Lin Wu's face lit up with surprise, and she quickly said, "Thank you for your kind words, sir. You flatter me. It's just that my little child at home is picky, so I had to figure out soft, easy foods she'd eat. It's nothing fit for fancy occasions."
"A mother's loving care is itself good craft," Manager Zhang said gently, holding out the tray in his hands toward her. "If you'd be kind enough, madam, keep these warm. We'll deliver them to the master shortly."
Lin Wu took the tray with both hands and, as instructed, placed the buns back into the steamer, which still had lingering warmth.
"May I ask... when will the decision be known?" she asked, a little nervously.
"Don't worry, madam. With skill like yours, having you join our caravan is a stroke of luck for us." Manager Zhang replied. As the caravan's manager, he was in charge of handling all the logistics of the journey—hiring a temporary cook now and then was well within his authority, no need to report every detail to the master.
"Thank you, sir!" Lin Wu said her thanks repeatedly.
She hesitated for a moment, then added, "But... there's one more thing I need to tell you, sir. I hope you won't take offense."
"Oh? Speak freely."
"I have a four-year-old daughter with me," her voice carried a hint of unease. "We are widowed mother and daughter, and my mother-in-law at home won't accept us. There's nowhere left for us in our hometown. I sold everything we had to go to Ling Prefecture to seek shelter with relatives. But our money is limited, so I thought I might trade on my cooking skills to cover our travel fare. We don't need wages—I only ask that we have a place to stay and safe journeying along the way."
"With a child?" Manager Zhang's brow furrowed slightly. This was indeed unexpected. "Well... that could be a bit inconvenient. A caravan's journey is hardly a pleasure trip."
"She's very young but extremely well-behaved—she never cries or fusses. I promise to keep an eye on her and won't cause any trouble for anyone! Please, sir, be merciful." Lin Wu quickly assured him, her voice tinged with urgency.
“Do you have official travel papers?” Manager Zhang pressed on.
Lin Wu’s heart tightened, but her expression remained unchanged, her eyes still cast modestly downward. “I wouldn’t dare deceive you, sir. This time, I was left with no choice but to slip away quietly with the child. My mother-in-law and the rest of the clan know nothing of it, so I have no official papers.”
Manager Zhang did not answer right away. Instead, he studied her once more.
The woman before him wore a coarse cotton dress washed almost white, her skin rough and sun-darkened from years of hard labor, her hands bearing the thin calluses and tiny cracks of endless household work. She looked for all the world like an ordinary, destitute village wife.
He weighed the matter in his mind. If she were a runaway slave from a wealthy household, she likely wouldn’t be so sun-baked, and fugitives usually fled alone—rarely did they burden themselves with a small child. If she were an official’s female relative or a wanted criminal, her looks and bearing didn’t fit, and there had been no relevant wanted posters at the city gates or on the streets lately.
The most probable explanation was exactly what she claimed: a poor soul driven out by her mother-in-law, with nowhere left to turn.
Ordinarily, that would be enough. But this trip, the master himself had come along, and everything required extra caution. He needed to weigh the decision further.
With that in mind, Manager Zhang merely said, “I see. Your situation is truly pitiable, madam. Still, taking on a small child along is no small matter—this must be reported to the master before a decision can be made. Go back and await word. Once there’s a definite answer, I’ll send someone to let you know.”
“Yes, thank you, sir.” Lin Wu answered timidly, worrying that the job would fall through. She sighed inwardly, left the address of her inn, and turned to leave.
She had just stepped across the threshold of the kitchen door when she heard a cheerful, brisk voice not far off.
“I hear all the cooks have finished their trials today. Be careful now, get the kitchen tidied up properly—don’t delay this afternoon’s meal…”
Before the words trailed off, Lin Wu saw a familiar-looking auntie—neatly dressed, with a silver hairpin and pearl earrings—walking over with a young woman in tow. The auntie caught sight of her, paused in surprise, then broke into a smile and hurried over.
“Oh my! Isn’t this Mrs. Lin?”
“Auntie, what a coincidence—I’ve run into you again,” Lin Wu said, recognizing her as the kind-hearted woman she’d met at the silversmith’s shop a few days before. Setting aside her worries, she smiled and returned the greeting.
