Mo Xi looked around the storeroom with curiosity. Overall, the rows of cabinets resembled the layout of a pharmacy. In just a few moments, the shopkeeper's eye twitched at least three times. Mo Xi chuckled inwardly, decided not to get in the way, and took her leave.
Tang Huan asked the maid in green to see her out, and Mo Xi then started chatting with her.
"Does your young master have a cough? Why don't you try ginger and honey? It's the best for moisturizing dryness."
“You are too kind, young lady. But you may not know this, our young master is practically a miracle doctor himself, but this cough of his has been refusing to be cured.”
"What do you mean by 'the miracle doctor is only half a doctor'?" Mo Xi quite liked this straightforward young girl.
"As the saying goes, an onlooker sees most of the game, and the same principle applies to diagnosing illness. It's better to treat others than to treat yourself. Don't you agree, young lady?"
“That’s absolutely right.” After a pause, Mo Xi seemed to remember something and added, “We met by chance today, but I didn’t have my umbrella with me. May I ask where you live so I can pay you a visit and express my gratitude?”
"It's the first house next to Zhuque Bridge."
Green Cloud
Two days later, Mo Xi went with a thank-you gift.
The girl in the green dress opened the door and happily invited Mo Xi inside.
The five-courtyard mansion, though quiet and secluded, didn't appear grand. The garden was lush with flowers and trees, and a stream flowed gently. In the center of the covered walkway was a miniature garden landscape. A waterwheel, about waist-high, diverted water from a small waterfall on a rockery into bamboo pipes; once full, it poured into another section, cascading down to irrigate various parts of the garden. Seeing Mo Xi's interest, the girl in green didn't urge her, but instead explained the garden's layout to her.
It was indeed Tang Huan's doing.
The last section of the garden is the most spacious, containing a large maple forest whose crimson hues, after being touched by frost, paint the sky.
Tang Huan seemed to have given prior instructions, as the girl in green led Mo Xi directly to the study.
Mo Xi presented a thank-you gift, which was an orchid planted in a purple clay pot, with two flowers blooming side by side, the flowers being lake green, a top-quality orchid.
The girl in green's eyes lit up, and she said, "How do you know my name, young lady?"
"I just thought that Green Cloud was a good match for you, but it turns out to be quite a coincidence." The Wind Group couldn't find any information about Tang Si's sister, but they did discover that his personal maid was named Green Cloud, and it really was her.
"I'm just a maid, how could I be worthy of the title of Lady of Lanzhong? You flatter me, Miss." Although she said this, her tone was not self-deprecating at all, and she happily accepted the compliment. For a moment, she completely forgot about her mistress, Tang Huan, and just wandered around the room, trying out different arrangements, but none of them felt quite right.
“Now that I know your name, it would be too formal for you to call me ‘Miss’ again. My surname is Mu and my given name is Xi, Mu as in trees and Xi as in streams.”
Tang Huan was somewhat surprised and amused by their seemingly oblivious conversation. This flower was so precious, yet they had bypassed him, its owner, and given it to their own maid. This young lady's actions were truly fascinating; her name, though seemingly ordinary, possessed a natural elegance that suited her perfectly. Green Cloud was the most prized of orchids, worth more than a fortune, let alone being a spring flower. Yet, in this late autumn, it was in full bloom, its fragrance wafting even without wind. It seemed that for this flower, the underground heating in his study would have to be turned on before winter, but that would dry out the air; he needed to find a solution. He, so astute, hadn't considered that the garden's water source was a hot spring; transplanting the flower to the courtyard would have been much more convenient.
Mo Xi, unaware of his thoughts, simply surveyed the study with wide eyes. The furnishings were simple and elegant, with sets of thread-bound books piled high on the mahogany bookshelves against the wall. Most were books on natural philosophy and pharmacology, but there were also many tales of the strange, miscellaneous notes, and biographies, demonstrating the owner's wide reading.
On the desk sat a jade peach-shaped brush washer. Scattered around it were fine-brush paintings, which at first glance looked like blueprints.
Seeing that her gaze was fixed on the blueprints, Tang Huan not only did not try to hide it, but instead asked, "I heard that the 'Tangram' sold at the Jiqiao Pavilion was just a doodle by you, Miss. I am currently designing something, and I wonder if you would be interested in taking a look."
Mo Xi's heart skipped a beat. Just as she was about to answer, the servants outside announced that dinner was served.
Tang Huan smiled again and said, "Luyun, please lead Miss Mu to her seat first. Tang Huan will be there shortly." The last sentence was addressed to Mo Xi, revealing his real name.
Mo Xi was secretly shocked and puzzled. Little did she know that Tang Huan had displayed extraordinary beauty since the age of eleven or twelve. Every woman he met was initially captivated by his appearance, but upon learning of his disability, they either pitied him or distanced themselves; none could remain indifferent. Mo Xi was always aloof and casual in her dealings with others, never showing any deliberate warmth even when she wanted to approach them. This very aloofness and casualness was rare with Tang Huan.
In ancient times, it was customary not to speak while eating, but Tang Huan was quite talkative, talking about the scenery and customs of Sichuan. He also mentioned that the great calligrapher Wang Xizhi, who once lived in Wuyi Lane, had written the cursive script "Yanjing Tie" to his friend Zhou Fu in Sichuan, and asked about the landscape descriptions in Yang Xiong's "Shudu Fu" about "fire wells sinking into secluded springs, high flames flying and fluttering in the sky" and "the salt lakes on the shore".
Legend has it that this salt well site was originally a barren wasteland. Someone discovered brine seeping from the ground, so they dug wells and boiled salt on the spot. The deeper the well was dug, the more salt was extracted, prompting many to imitate this practice. A total of six wells were dug, arranged in a hexagonal pattern, collectively known as the "Hexagonal Wells." One night, amidst thunder and lightning, a bolt of lightning struck, and flames suddenly shot out from the deepest well, rising several meters high. The people revered this as "divine fire," and this is the origin of the Fire Well. Mo Xi found this intriguing and secretly guessed that this must be the earliest discovery of natural gas. Tang Huan, with his potential to become an industrialist, had already conceived of using ceramic pipes to transport natural gas for lighting.
After dinner, I returned to my study, where the potted green plant was already placed on the top shelf of the bookshelf, perfectly complementing the carvings of plum blossoms, orchids, bamboo, and chrysanthemums.
Tang Huan's drawings depicted a garden landscape, but unlike the Jiangnan gardens that emphasize the essence of mountains and water, Tang Huan's design aimed for grandeur and openness. Such designs often employ axial symmetry, and Tang Huan's was no exception. While classical Chinese gardens boast of "a single peak representing a thousand-foot mountain, a single scoop representing ten thousand miles of rivers," they are ultimately confined to a small space, making the concept somewhat self-deceptive. Furthermore, the common technique of winding paths leading to secluded spots seems incongruous when used to express grandeur and openness. Mo Xi was completely ignorant of these concepts, but she felt that Chinese people appreciate gardens more for the beauty of form found in individual trees and flowers, while Western gardens pursue geometric layouts formed by quantity. Similarly, Chinese gardens use rocks and streams to create secluded, hidden, and ever-changing scenery, while Western gardens use fountains, waterfalls, large lawns, and sculptures to create an open visual impact.
Mo Xi couldn't draw, and she couldn't explain it just by talking, so she could only bite the bullet and scribble a few strokes. It was rare that Tang Huan could understand what she meant from the blobs of black ink.
With just a few words, Tang Huan felt a sudden enlightenment, and in his heart, he regarded Mo Xi as a mentor. Little did he know that in Mo Xi's eyes, Tang Huan's danger level had risen several percentage points. This man appeared weak, but he had extremely high aspirations. To be able to use such a blueprint, what kind of foundation must he have built!
Car oil
Mo Xi walked down the street, secretly calculating that, judging by his pace, the murderous Tang Shao would arrive in Jinling in just one or two days. The Tang Clan's tragic wedding had already become the top gossip topic in the martial arts world. According to information obtained by the Wind Group, Xiao Qingyuan, the leader of the Yuejian Sect, had personally mobilized his forces, preparing for a major attack on Tang Family Fortress. Although Mo Xi didn't know what tricks Tang Si had played, the Tang Clan had issued twelve imperial edicts to recall Tang Huan, yet Tang Huan acted as if nothing had happened. This disregard for imperial orders was an open secret. And the Tang Clan's numerous manpower had failed to intercept Tang Li. She could only look up at the sky at a 45-degree angle, hoping that Tang Shao would step up and eliminate Tang Si, so she wouldn't have to play double agent every day.
Over the past few days, he had become quite familiar with Tang Huan, Lü Yun, and their group, and even occasionally exchanged a few words with the servant boy named Ahen. Yesterday, Tang Huan sent him to deliver a letter, inviting Mo Xi to Jushui Pavilion to sample the new dishes.
Mo Xi sensed someone rapidly approaching from behind. Turning around, she saw a ragged child running towards her, only to suddenly stop abruptly just before reaching her. The child seemed somewhat embarrassed, wiping her face with her thin, small hands, adding two more whiskers to her already smeared face. It was the little beggar from the Heji restaurant that day. She bit her lip shyly, but still raised her head, looking directly at Mo Xi with her clear, bright eyes, and respectfully bowed, mimicking an adult, saying, "Thank you for the meal, young lady."
Mo Xi was somewhat pleased to see her again and asked gently, "Are you hungry?"
Unexpectedly, after nodding, the little girl shook her head vigorously, saying in a clear voice, "Xi'er didn't come to beg for food. Xi'er only came to thank you, Miss." She seemed a little anxious, afraid Mo Xi would think she was clinging to her, and turned to run away. Mo Xi gently pulled her shoulder with her right hand, squatted down to her eye level, and said seriously, "Xi'er, would you be willing to do me a favor?" The little girl nodded vigorously, revealing a sweet smile. Mo Xi composed herself and slowly explained. Xi'er surprisingly showed a resolute expression, saying, "I will certainly not fail you." Mo Xi smiled slightly, gave her some loose silver, and told her to keep it safe. This time, Xi'er didn't refuse, but bowed deeply again and turned to leave.
Mo Xi knew that giving her more money might actually bring her a fatal disaster. She herself had once been struck on the back of the head with a broken brick by a fellow beggar on the street over a single silver ingot, leaving her unconscious for three days and nearly dragged to a mass grave as a corpse. The scar was still there, only hidden in her hair to prevent disfigurement. From that moment, she understood one thing: so-called allies are those who will stab you in the back, people you'll never be wary of.
Jushui Pavilion.
Mo Xi arrived early and waited for him in the Lan room. He had only just finished his first cup of Tieguanyin tea when Tang Huan arrived. It was quite a feat for Ahen, with her small frame, to carry Tang Huan, who had long arms and legs, around.
Today's menu is a whole fish feast. The newly introduced dish is the yellow croaker in soup. Mo Xi recalled the tragic story of the chef Kenny Bee in Tsui Hark's film "The Chinese Feast," who was dumped halfway through preparing this signature dish of the Qing Dynasty's Manchu Han Imperial Feast, but had to give up halfway through the competition because he was worried about his wife who was giving birth.
Jushui Pavilion's dish is quite elegant and charming, with onions at the bottom and kale hearts inside.
This time it was Tang Huan's turn to speak eloquently, "This dish is called 'Soup-filled Yellow Croaker,' and its most bizarre and rare feature is that it contains the entire universe within its belly without leaking a drop of water. This dish uses precious ingredients and is complicated to prepare. There are three main difficulties: first, deboning the whole fish; second, preparing the broth; and third, filling the fish with soup and then frying it. Miss Mu, please give it a try."
Mo Xi thought to herself, "You're the epitome of being both poisonous and meticulous, no wonder you praise this dish so highly." She didn't stand on ceremony; she was still curious about a dish she'd only seen in movies in her previous life. She immediately followed the instructions and gently pierced the fish's belly with silver chopsticks. Tiny, translucent balls, like dewdrops, slowly emerged, enveloped in clear broth. Even before tasting them, the aroma was irresistible.
"Is there a trick to deboning this raw fish?" The fish meat is fresh, tender, and snow-white, and one bite is truly delicious and rich.
"The secret to removing the bones without breaking the fish is to make a small incision near the mouth and gills to remove the contents from the belly. Then, the fish is cleaned and deodorized, broth is added, and the opening is sealed before cooking. The broth is made by simmering eight kinds of precious seafood and mushrooms with clear chicken broth. The finished broth is tea-colored and crystal clear."
Mo Xi carefully examined the ingredients and could only distinguish them as bird's nest, scallops, shark fin, abalone, skirt, and sea cucumber.
This dish is both dynamic and serene, its flowing motion exuding an elegant and refined charm; it also resembles a splashed-ink landscape painting, radiant and luminous. Even Tang Huan's every move while eating is breathtakingly beautiful. Mo Xi finally understands why people say that handsome men can succeed in proposing with a handful of celery.
Mo Xi secretly wondered if Tang Li was about to attack, yet Tang Huan showed no sign of anxiety. She wouldn't believe it if Tang Huan wasn't completely confident. She could only hope to take advantage of their internal strife and fish in troubled waters.
Mo Xi, smiling, scooped up the fish ball and shrimp soup she'd been longing for from the ditch. Just as she was about to put a ball in her mouth, it slipped from her silver chopsticks, rolled, and landed on Tang Huan's lap. Seeing this, Mo Xi quickly put down her chopsticks, apologizing as she frantically tried to wipe it off. Oil stains are easily spread and should be gently blotted with a handkerchief, not rubbed on like this. Sure enough, the oil stain on the light blue robe had already spread, becoming increasingly difficult to clean.