Light and fresh, with a perfect balance of savory and salty flavors, this is the essence of Hangzhou cuisine, perfectly suited to Mo Xi's taste. No wonder Su Dongpo once praised it, saying, "Of all the banquets in the world, none can compare to those of Hangzhou," and there's even the famous story of "dismounting upon smelling the aroma." From Tianxiang's Dongpo pork, to Wai's West Lake vinegar fish, Kuiyuanguan's shrimp and eel noodles, Zhiweiguan's "Happiness Double," and Huzhou Ding Lianfang's thousand-layer tofu buns, the variety is dazzling and delightful.
This is a huge investment, Mo Xi couldn't help but be suspicious. No one gets up early without a reason; Ling Qi, that shrewd businessman, must have something to gain. Mo Xi didn't ask; the fox's tail would be revealed sooner or later anyway, so she'd make her money first. Mo Xi's claws reached for Xingfu Shuang.
Happiness Double is made by mixing dough with pork lard, white sugar, red beans, candied dates, and walnut kernels, and filling it with candied dates, walnut kernels, candied kumquats, Buddha's hand radish, green plums, pine nuts, raisins, and osmanthus sugar. It is then steamed. It is named for being served in pairs.
They devoured the food with great gusto, leaving nothing behind.
Looking at the mess of cups and plates in front of him, he put down the black jade bamboo chopsticks with satisfaction, and became more serious, saying, "What's wrong? You look so worried." He hadn't seen her touch her chopsticks much from beginning to end.
Ling Qi said awkwardly, "Actually, it's nothing."
Mo Xi lifted her eyelids and rolled her eyes at her: "I know you too well. Just say what you have to say, look at your cowardice." Ling Qi was always decisive and ruthless, but now she looked like a shy little wife, and Mo Xi understood a bit.
After hesitating for a long time, Ling Qi finally closed her eyes, her face filled with a reckless expression, and resolutely shouted, "Seventh Miss, I'm engaged!" Good heavens, her voice was so powerful it startled a flock of birds. Anyone who didn't know better would have thought she was about to be beheaded.
Ling Qi is two years older than Mo Xi, and at eighteen, she is in the prime of her life. In recent years, she has devoted herself to managing the family business, which is considered late compared to girls from ordinary families.
"Oh, is the other party missing an arm or a leg? Or did you catch them red-handed philandering? Want to return them?" Mo Xi said slowly, taking a sip of osmanthus honey tea.
"Can't you wish me well! No, he's fine." Her tone shifted from sharp and stern to tender and sweet, without a moment's hesitation in building up her emotions. Mo Xi cursed inwardly for prioritizing romance over friendship. Knowing that the Seventh Miss could utter the words "fine," it truly meant she was fine. She was genuinely happy for her.
"I have a favor to ask, sister. Could you stay here for a few days? My eighth sister has been depressed since last winter, and now she's even more so. She ignores everyone and sometimes sits by the window all day staring out the window. She has no appetite, and her chin is getting thinner every day. She's turning into a sickly beauty. It's quite pitiful. You're always so clever, could you cheer her up?" Although Ling Qi didn't know Mo Xi's background, she was a young woman who had traveled the world and was knowledgeable and capable. She was good at reading people and making funny faces.
"It's probably not that simple. She's lovesick." Mo Xi said, seeing that she had changed the subject. Although she herself was like a rock that couldn't be warmed, other people's girls, especially those from families like the Ling family, were pampered and raised in luxury. What could they possibly worry about except marrying a good husband?
"To be honest, although I'm out in the public eye because of my business, my eighth sister is so beautiful and gentle, she rarely sees strangers. It's just the two of us in our family, relying on each other, so naturally I cherish her dearly. If she really takes a fancy to someone, even though we're all social classes, and commerce is considered lowly, I'll fight for her even if she's a prince or nobleman. When I ask her who it is, she won't say. She just grits her teeth, shakes her head, and refuses to speak, only shedding tears." Ling Qi paused, seemingly having something difficult to say.
Ling Qi didn't urge him, already having a vague idea of what was going on.
"But a young lady like her rarely leaves her home. Even my business dealings are all done in the front hall, so I can't easily cross her. Besides, she's always been proud and arrogant; those money-grubbing types wouldn't even look at her. I'm afraid..."
"I wonder what kind of background my brother-in-law has? How could he betroth our Seventh Miss to him?" Mo Xi played with a jade cabbage chopstick rest in her slender white hand, her usually calm eyes filled with a playful expression.
"Sigh, nothing can be hidden from you. The one you've chosen is Du Heng, the third young master of the Du family of Chrysanthemum. I'll be frank, Eighth Sister probably has feelings for him. She met him once last winter solstice when they sent over festival gifts, and she's met him a few more times since then."
Mo Xi had heard a little about this third young master. When she went to the Du family to steal flowers, she had even seen his chrysanthemum poem. Putting aside everything else, just looking at his handwriting, she could tell he was upright and steady. Moreover, the Du family's business would definitely be inherited by his older brother, and the third young master loved reading and was focused on the imperial examinations, so he had a promising future. Even though scholars lived a frugal life, these two families would never be short of money. This was truly a case of using someone else's flowers to offer to Buddha. Little did she know that she had unintentionally become a matchmaker. It was because she had ruined the years of painstaking cultivation that the Du family followed the clues and found Ling Qi, determined to send her to the authorities for questioning. The two had quite a fierce battle. At the time, Ling Qi was in a bind. You know, Mo Xi was such a troublemaker, and she was elusive, so where was she supposed to find her? And afterwards, she couldn't tell her, otherwise, Mo Xi would find all sorts of ways to extort her, not stopping until she was skinned alive.
"Let's meet the Eighth Miss first." This is a power struggle within the household, two women vying for one man? What kind of situation is this? There's no such thing as a power struggle in the organization's training. She knew there would be no pleasant banquet.
Seeing that Mo Xi agreed, Ling Qi finally showed some joy. But what if it really was true? Thinking of this, she frowned again. It was because of this concern that she couldn't press her too much, but she couldn't just let her suffer, after all, she was her own sister. That's why she found Mu Xi, an unrelated person.
Eighth Sister is so beautiful, and I have always been strong-willed, but I can never surpass her in looks. What if...? Thinking of this, the worry on her face deepened.
Mo Xi knew what she was thinking and said seriously, "You have always enjoyed reading Li Qingzhao, how could you not know those two lines of poetry praising osmanthus?"
Why need it be light green or deep red? It is naturally the first-class among flowers.
Ling Qi was naturally open-minded, but being a young woman, she inevitably hesitated when it came to matters of the heart. After carefully considering the two sentences in her heart, she found herself with a different mindset than before. She smiled and said, "Thank you for your advice, sister. I was foolish. I almost made a mistake." She took out the prepared osmanthus honey as a reward.
Mo Xi didn't stand on ceremony, opened the package, and a rich, warm fragrance wafted out. The Jiangnan region is often shrouded in misty rain, and over time, her old shoulder injury had become aching. This remedy had the effect of dispelling wind and dampness, making it very suitable. Furthermore, the *Compendium of Materia Medica* records that osmanthus can "nourish the spirit, improve complexion, and with prolonged use, lighten the body, prevent aging, and give the face a radiant glow, making one as beautiful as a child." Truly a superior beauty product. She happily accepted it.
Boating on West Lake
( ) Su Shi's "Water Brightness"
Dark clouds, like ink, fail to obscure the mountains; white rain, like leaping pearls, scatters wildly into the boat.
A sudden gust of wind swept across the land, scattering the debris; the lake stretched to the horizon.
Released fish and birds follow people to their deaths, and ownerless lotus flowers bloom everywhere.
The waves can make the mountains bow and rise, and the sails seem to return with the moon.
If one does not become a great hermit, but a moderate hermit, one can attain long-term leisure, which is better than temporary leisure.
I have no home to return to, and my hometown has no such beautiful lakes and mountains.
Shuiming was later renamed Wanghu, which, while losing some of its elegance, gained two parts of its true meaning. At this moment, Shuiming is standing not far away, gazing at its reflection in the water.
Mo Xi, traveling with the Ling sisters, inevitably felt somewhat constrained by her ladylike manners. Firstly, her wish to sit on the eaves of the lakeside pavilion and sip some osmanthus wine was no longer possible. Being an assassin wasn't her fault, but frightening the Eighth Miss would be unacceptable.
Boating on the lake at night, admiring the moon from the boat. It's a perfectly natural and carefree experience, but Mo Xi suddenly recalled Su Shi's poem, which stirred his emotions. Hometown—that's a thing of the past. Even if the place and scenery are the same, what difference does it make? The mountains are no longer mountains, the water is no longer water.
The martial world is not a place, it is people. For an assassin, once in the martial world, there is nowhere to hide. There is no way back, only forward.
Mo Xi picked up a Yue ware celadon lotus leaf-shaped cup, took a sip of Longjing tea, and cursed inwardly: Damn it! She's only been with this Eighth Miss for an hour, and she's already acting like she owns her place. What are you hiding? How old are you? Don't you want to live anymore?
Ling Qi held the Xiahe Green Jade Glass Cup, drinking her favorite rock sugar osmanthus tea, but her mind was somewhat elsewhere.
Before the Eighth Miss was a Golden Herb and Blessing Pot, made with fish skin, pork ribs, taro, bamboo shoots, chicken, bamboo fungus, shiitake mushrooms, chestnuts, glutinous rice, and ginseng juice. She stirred it back and forth no less than thirty times with a delicate porcelain spoon inlaid with a jade cicada handle, but she couldn't manage to eat a single bite.
Mo Xi saw it all and felt a pang of heartache. What a waste of that golden herb and blessing cup.
The Eighth Miss was dragged out of her room by Ling Qi. Even the few words she uttered were directed at Ling Qi.
Her beauty was indeed extraordinary. Her delicate eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and her lips were a touch of rosy cherries. That perfectly described her. Now, with her melancholy expression amidst the wind and dew, her eyes, like autumn waters shrouded in mist, appeared even more captivating.
"Is this ginseng soup not to your liking?" Ling Qi sighed softly, finally unable to bear it any longer.
"Thank you for your concern, Seventh Sister. It's very kind of you," the Eighth Miss said softly.
"Perhaps it's too refined. Actually, sometimes coarser food tastes better. For example, Laba porridge is more appetizing." Mo Xi ate and took some, thinking that she should do her part somehow.
"Yes, I tried some when Lingyin Temple was distributing porridge last year, and it was quite good." The Eighth Miss was really giving face by replying.
"The vegetarian food there is good, but it can't be taken out; it's only for worshippers." Mo Xi felt this deeply; she had often gone to Ru Wu's place for meals. This monk was a highly virtuous one, and his vegetarian food was different from that of the young novices. Even monks have their privileged class.
"Seventh Sister, I want to go to the temple to kneel and worship Buddha."
"Alright, I'll take this opportunity to clear my head and find some peace and quiet." Ling Qi silently chanted a Buddhist prayer. Regardless of who was in her heart, she was about to draw her sword of wisdom and sever all ties of affection.