Chapter 58 Chapter 58 Shepherd's Purse, Eggs and Spring Stage Drama Even if you...
At dawn the next day, perhaps because it had rained all night, the morning mist slowly enveloped the city of Chang'an like a layer of veil. The red camellia flowers in the courtyard were condensed with overnight dew and sparkled in the dim morning light.
A Pan sleeps less and is the first one to get up every day. She stretched, carried the wooden bucket to the well, and saw Duan Zhiwei, who rarely got up earlier than her, standing by the wall, doing something unknown.
Duan Zhiwei was startled when he heard the sound of the wheel pumping water. He turned around and saw Ah Pan, who asked with concern, "It's cold this morning. Why are you standing there? Your face is almost as red as the camellia. Did you catch a cold?"
Of course not, she just helped her lover over the wall and left.
The customs of the people in this dynasty are open-minded, and it is common for women to divorce and remarry. It is also common for young girls to make good friends. Even Ouyang Xiu wrote a poem "Wang Jiangnan" to give a romantic footnote to the tryst between men and women: "The body is like He Lang, who is fully covered with powder, and the heart is like Han Shou, who loves to steal fragrance."
Han Shou in the Western Jin Dynasty even dared to climb over the wall to meet the daughter of a powerful official in the middle of the night, let alone Chang'an, a place with open-minded people and the center of the world.
After realizing this, Duan Zhiwei felt less guilty. She yawned and prepared to go back and get some more sleep.
The results were announced today, and Zhen Hui had been fidgeting since early morning. With a pale face, he chewed a piece of dry steamed bun, then left the restaurant using his hands and feet like a puppet.
Soon it was the Shangsi Day on March 3rd. Restaurants had already ordered a truckload of shepherd's purse and stewed a pot of shepherd's purse and boiled eggs. There was a saying among the people that "eating shepherd's purse in spring was like taking an elixir of life". It was said that eating this could prevent spring plague and keep the waist and legs from aching all year round.
Duan Zhiwei also cooked a pot of shepherd's purse and eggs, and introduced light spring limited dishes such as toona sinensis sprouts mixed with gluten and young willow sprouts mixed with tofu.
After hearing the doctor at the clinic say that it is important to nourish the liver in spring, she went to the butcher shop and bought some pork liver. According to A Pan, it is popular in Cantonese to drink pork liver porridge in spring. In Duan Zhiwei's opinion, this should be the prototype of modern Jidi porridge.
Wisps of smoke rose from the restaurant. Today, a huge clay pot was set up at the door. The thick, white porridge was bubbling inside. In order to prevent the bottom from getting sticky, Duan Zhiwei and A Pan could only take turns stirring it with a long spoon.
The dish is filled with crispy pork liver, tender pork and other ingredients, which are faintly visible in the dense porridge base. Duan Zhiwei has always been willing to add ingredients to the dishes, which is one of the reasons why Duan's restaurant has a good reputation among the people.
Every bursting bubble in the hot porridge released a fresh aroma, which quickly attracted passers-by, and diners came over one after another to have breakfast.
It was the time of spring when the weather was getting warmer but still cold. I was freezing in the spring breeze while walking on the road. I sat down in a restaurant and a bowl of steaming porridge that was still bubbling was served to me.
Gently blow away the heat, scoop up a spoonful, the thick rice porridge melts in your mouth, the lean meat is fresh, tender and smooth, the pork liver is soft and glutinous, the spiciness of shredded ginger and pepper and the fragrance of chopped green onions go down your throat together, driving away the coldness of early spring. Served with a small dish of pickled snow mustard greens, it has a crispy and juicy texture and is very appetizing when paired with white porridge.
Presumably, all the candidates had gone to see the results announced, so not many people came to have breakfast this morning. Duan Zhiwei was happy to have some peace and quiet, as he was only worried about whether Zhen Hui could make the list.
Everyone in the restaurant was also concerned about this matter and was a little absent-minded at work until noon when the sun was high in the sky. Zhen Hui came back with a pale face, and then huddled down on the small bedding at the door, staring blankly at the thriving toon tree at the door.
"It looks like a bad situation." "Forget it, let's not go over and ask him, so as not to upset him." Duan Zhiwei and Aunt Duan whispered to each other.
Zhen Hui suddenly jumped up from his bed, opened his arms and shouted wildly, "Got it!"
Everyone who was still trying to figure out how to comfort him was stunned.
Zhen Hui ran up to everyone and said happily, "I won!" Then he stood at the door of the restaurant and started dancing the cheerful Hu Teng dance.
Hu Teng Dance is a solo dance for men. The movements are simple, consisting of some leaps and jumps. It is very popular in Liangzhou and can also be found in many restaurants in Chang'an. I don't know where he learned it from.
This dance is only good-looking when performed by a strong Hu man. The poet Li Duan once described it in "Hu Teng'er": "Hu Teng is a man from Liangzhou, with skin as white as jade and a nose as big as a cone. He wears a light tung cloth shirt rolled up front and back, with a long grape-shaped belt hanging down on one side..."
Therefore, Zhen Hui, who was wearing a gray robe and was short but jumping around with his sleeves waving, looked like he was possessed by something unclean.
The diners thought he was crazy and were afraid to approach him. It was Aunt Duan who mustered up the courage to pull him back into the restaurant. He went into the backyard and started dancing by the well again.
Everyone in the restaurant was also very happy for him.
However, it was very busy at noon. The number of local tribute candidates who could make the list in a year was no more than 300. It was truly like a thousand troops crossing a single-plank bridge. Therefore, most of those who came to the restaurant for lunch were those who had failed the exam. The restaurant was filled with a thick cloud of gloom.
As for those who were on the list, how could they even bother to look at such a small restaurant? They happily went to Pingkangfang early to "see all the flowers in Chang'an".
Zhen Hui jumped around in the backyard excitedly for the whole afternoon without eating or drinking. Finally, Duan Zhiwei said, "There is still the palace examination. Don't let your joy turn into sorrow and get rejected by the sage himself."
Zhen Hui immediately became depressed again.
It was a great honor for his own restaurant to have a Jinshi. Duan Zhiwei hung a sign at the door of the restaurant:
"The accountant of our store has passed the imperial examination. Today, all diners who come to the restaurant to eat can receive a bowl of shepherd's purse and boiled eggs for free."
The price of eggs has been quite high recently, and Aunt Duan feels a little distressed.
Duan Zhiwei was more open-minded than her. After all, this was a publicity tool. In the future, the scholars who came to Chang'an to take the imperial examinations every year would probably be willing to sit here for good luck.
Unexpectedly, the scholars did not come, but a group of women with children came. They were all ordinary residents of Xuanyangfang. They came to eat a bowl of sticky eggs to express their joy and hope that their children would pass the imperial examination and become Jinshi in the future.
The restaurant's stock of eggs was quickly depleted.
After a busy day, at night, all the restaurants closed and Yuan Shenji climbed over the back wall again.
Duan Zhiwei was lying on an ivy bench, flipping through a storybook with great interest. He saw him come in and asked him if he had used his evening snack.
The emperor is about to host a banquet for the newly-appointed Jinshi in the apricot blossom forest on the bank of Qujiang River. The Jinwu Guards are busy guarding and deploying defenses on the bank of Qujiang River and are exhausted.
Yuan Shenji saw a bowl of kumquat balls and a plate of rice cakes beside her, so he took two bites of the rice cakes and said with a smile, "You are so free."
Duan Zhiwei rubbed his neck and complained, "I've been busy all day."
Yuan Shenji finished a plate of rice cake in just a few bites, and knew that he was hungry, so he asked, "Do you want a bowl of sour leek soup steamed buns?"
This steamed bun was cooked casually by Duan Zhiwei at night. It tasted very appetizing, sour and spicy. Everyone liked it very much and no soup was left.
She stood up and prepared to go to the fire room, but he hugged her, tightened his arms slightly, and then loosened them, smiling and saying, "I'd better not eat leeks tonight."
It took Duan Zhiwei a while to realize what he meant. He actually disliked the strong smell of leeks and it was difficult to get close to them. So she glared at him and wanted to push him away.
Yuan Shenji took her into his arms and let her lean on his solid shoulders: "I still need to patrol Suzaku Street tonight, I will be leaving soon."
The two of them snuggled together and chatted for a while. Yuan Shenji saw that it was almost dark and let go of her: "Wang Qian has just written a play. I will take you to see it the day after tomorrow when I have a day off."
Wang Qian was obviously a child of an aristocratic family. He was not interested in fame and only loved to write various storybooks. He also took over the storytelling in temples. He was a free and easy person.
The books written by this person were quite interesting, so Duan Zhiwei happily agreed. The tribute students from Chang'an would be leaving the capital soon, so he had quite some free time these few days.
Duan Zhiwei did not expect that the theater was already packed with a group of spectators, with no place to sit. It was the tea master who was walking around who led them to the private room on the second floor.
Wang Qian was waiting in the private room with a smile on his face. After the Spring Festival, he seemed to have gained some weight, and when he smiled he looked like Maitreya.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, they sat down. A few plates of peach blossom pastry were placed on the table in front of them. Duan Zhiwei picked up a piece to taste. It was a combination of the sweetness of peach flesh and the fragrance of honey. It had very rich layers. Duan Zhiwei had learned something new.
The curtain on the stage is about to open. Today's play, "Immortal Painting", tells the story of a scholar who falls in love with a beauty in a painting in a bookstore. The bookstore owner says, "The girl in the painting is named Zhenzhen." If he takes the painting home, calls her name every day, and pours her with a hundred kinds of grass ash wine, she may walk out of the painting. ”
In order to make the beauty walk out of the painting, the scholar called her name every day and night. A hundred days later, the beauty really walked out of the painting.
The two lived in harmony and love, and the beauty even gave birth to a son for him. Unexpectedly, one day, a scholar friend instigated him, "Since your wife came from a painting, she must be a monster. If you don't kill her, she will become a disaster sooner or later!"
The scholar believed it and took up his sword to kill her. The beauty cried and said, "I am a fairy from Mount Nanyue. I was moved by your love and came to marry you for the rest of my life. But now it seems that you have given up on me."
So he brought the child back to the painting. The beauty was still there, but there was a child beside her.
When the Jinshi saw it, he regretted it deeply.
The ups and downs of the play won the applause of the whole room. Duan Zhiwei was furious after listening to it: "After all, I gave birth to a child for him, but he picked up a sword and wanted to kill people just because of a slander. Such a scum still has the nerve to cry."
As a writer of storybooks, Wang Qian always likes to listen to readers' feedback. After he finished writing "Beauty in the Painting", many ladies who read it expressed their feelings about the poignant story, and some even hoped that he could give it a good ending.
This was the first one to criticize so harshly, so he asked, "According to Madam Duan, what should be the best ending?"
Duan Zhiwei said: "How could such a rotten person who can't tell right from wrong be a Jinshi? If he becomes an official, he will be a corrupt official. Don't let him bring trouble to the court and the people. Submit your resignation as soon as possible, go back to your hometown and cry slowly while holding the painting."
Wang Qian laughed out loud after hearing this.
Yuan Shenji listened to her long speech and fearing that she might be thirsty, he quietly pushed a cup of tea towards her.
When Yuan Shenji drove her back to Xuanyangfang in a carriage, she was still chattering, and soon looked at Yuan Shenji and asked, "If I were really a fox spirit, would you still like me?"
Yuan Shenji thought her question was interesting and couldn't help but look at her with a smile: "So what if you're a fox spirit? You're so nice, I'll accept you as a fox spirit."
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