This dish, "Mantanghong," was prepared with lake shrimp, beef thick soup, snakehead fish fillets, plump and crisp local specialty jumping mushrooms, and an assortment of vegetables.
The dish received unanimous praise from the entire table. Li Fubo declared he would be a frequent patron. Although the Master Craftsman could not handle much spice—needing three gulps of wine for every two mouthfuls of food—the heat was utterly addictive, forcing him to dab his running nose with a soft cloth several times.
Madam Ying tugged at He Lingchuan and murmured, "Tasty as it is, it makes the guests lose all decorum." Everyone eating it had a flushed face and a runny nose; how did that look for a high-end banquet? It was fine for family dining, but for entertaining guests, it was somewhat...
He Lingchuan nodded repeatedly. "Mother is entirely right!"
He also noticed plates of river snails stir-fried in chili oil on other tables, clear evidence that the new dishes were being met with great enthusiasm.
Only three days after the city gates reopened, Hesu Restaurant was packed to the brim again. He could practically hear the pleasant clinking of silver coins pouring into the registers.
In truth, ever since the army dispatched by He Chunhua won its opening battle, eighty to ninety percent of the civilians who had fled Dunyu had returned. Yet the original order had been thoroughly disrupted. With so many homes, shops, fields, and estates changing hands, and so many goods swinging wildly between crashes and price spikes, settling such turmoil would inevitably take time.
This had dealt a heavy blow to Dunyu as well. Theft, looting, disputes, and street brawls were breaking out with alarming frequency.
The prefectural government was prepared for this. He Chunhua issued one decree after another aimed at quelling the conflicts.
As long as the people were here and retained faith in the new Governor-General, the wounds would heal sooner or later.
Everyone understood this truth.
Setting down the scroll and rubbing his tired eyes, He Lingchuan gave a long stretch, his joints popping crisply.
For him to study books with such diligence, he had to be in a dream.
Indeed, he was currently in Wenxuan Pavilion within the dream world's Panlong City—the largest library in the region. Over the past five days, he had finished reading over a hundred volumes from the collection.
Yes, the past five days.
In previous dreams, he had always returned to reality after a day or two. But He Lingchuan found that this time was different. Day and night had alternated five times in this dream realm, and he was still here.
Several times when he dozed off, he thought he would wake back in the real world, only to open his eyes and find himself facing the bookshelves of Wenxuan Pavilion once more.
Having to study even in his dreams—what an exhausting life!
Yet griping aside, He Lingchuan turned to the next book.
Reading with divine consciousness was far faster than normal reading in reality, taking merely a second or two to scan a page. Furthermore, the books here were rather thin, with few massive tomes.
Panlong City seemed quite peaceful over these past few days. The monster tide brought on by the last descent of the Emperor's Flowing Dew had mostly subsided. The newly spawned monsters were either smart enough to recognize who truly ruled the Chipa Plateau, or the Panlong patrols beat them until they saw reason.
This cycle played out every few years, so everyone was well accustomed to the routine. Incidents of villagers being attacked and farmlands destroyed had essentially vanished, and the Chipa Plateau had returned to quiet.
Under these circumstances, He Lingchuan's workload as a patrol guard was drastically reduced, and he did not have to deploy for days on end.
Skinny complained about this constantly.
Aside from restocking essentials, buying food and drink, and heading to Martial Review Hall to trade blows, He Lingchuan spent these days using the library to enrich his mind.
Too much fighting grew tedious, and since Meng Shan was still recuperating and had not yet returned to duty, He Lingchuan decided to switch up his routine.
Wenxuan Pavilion was bustling with people, all of them thirsting for knowledge. Small groups often gathered in corners, murmuring quietly in heated debate.
He had heard that some scholars and cultivators would occasionally set up forums here to give lectures.
However, He Lingchuan was slightly disappointed; the collection within Wenxuan Pavilion was not as boundless as he had imagined.
It was a tall tower divided into six levels from top to bottom. Aside from the top floor, which housed ancient texts and certain confidential records, the other five levels were open to the public. There was only one catch:
No books could be checked out unless one obtained a specially approved warrant.
On every level, the shelves reached from the floor straight to the ceiling. Reaching the higher volumes required climbing a ladder.
And yet, despite that, the shelves were still half empty.
He Lingchuan discovered that travelogues, broad encyclopedias, and miscellanies were exceedingly rare, and the dozen or so volumes available were already tattered from constant handling.
What filled the shelves most were political records and military treatises—works recording the politics, economies, and figures of surrounding states, along with analyses of famous battles throughout antiquity and modern times. They covered an astonishing variety of subjects, enough to dazzle the eyes.
Over the past several days, he had spent the most time reading such military books, gaining immense insight from them.
There were also various mythological and supernatural chronicles from the Middle Ancient Era, arcane and wondrous, which felt utterly incredible to read in the present age.
Even so, He Lingchuan had a faint feeling that certain subjects he wished to read could not be found anywhere in Wenxuan Pavilion.
For instance, treatises on divination and hexagram casting.
To tell the truth, he had collected a few such texts in reality, but upon reading them, they were either bewildering or felt somewhat lacking. Or perhaps he simply lacked the talent for such studies.
Yet in Panlong City's Wenxuan Pavilion, there was not a single book on the subject.
He had searched the library's catalog until his eyes blurred.
Was he simply too unfamiliar with the place to know how to search, or were the books he wanted locked away on the top floor?
Gathering the books he had read to return them, he caught sight of a figure flitting past ahead—one that looked remarkably familiar.
Thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him, he rubbed them and looked again. It was indeed her.
He Lingchuan quickened his pace to catch up, moving so abruptly that the old librarian shushed him sharply on the way.
Reaching the figure from behind, he gave a moderate cough. "Miss... Sun?"
The person paid him no heed.
He Lingchuan had no choice but to raise his voice. "Sun Fuling!"
Only then did the young woman turn around.
She still had the same snowy skin, crimson lips, and bright, almond-shaped eyes.
She let out a soft murmur of surprise. "Why are you here?"
"To read." He Lingchuan waved the books in his hand. "I haven't seen you for days."
Over the past five days, he had returned home occasionally, finding Sun Fuling's courtyard even quieter and more deserted than his own.
"Shumin Academy organized the year-end examinations, and I was one of the examiners setting the questions, so I wasn't allowed to leave the academy grounds for the past few days." This was to prevent the exam prompts from leaking.
"And now?"
"The exams ended today, so I'm heading back." Sun Fuling breathed a sigh. "The children get a thirteen-day winter break, and I finally get to rest too."
"You've worked hard. Is it a paid break?"
"No, if we don't teach, we don't get paid," Sun Fuling said with a smile. "Though the academy did distribute some rice, cooking oil, and three jin of mutton to us."
Wasn't that far more practical than money? What an enviable winter vacation. "Are you going to run a private kitchen for any kids during the break?"
"What private kitchen?" Sun Fuling blinked, unfamiliar with the turn of phrase. "I don't know how to cook."
"..." Ever since arriving in this world, this was the very first time He Lingchuan had heard a girl declare so matter-of-factly that she could not cook.
"I mean, will you be offering special tutoring sessions for one or two specific children?"
Sun Fuling shook her head. "The academy forbids it. There are severe penalties if anyone gets caught."
"Why is that?"
"They're worried we would hold things back in regular class and only teach the key material during paid tutoring, which wouldn't be fair to the other children."
He Lingchuan returned his books first. As the two walked out of Wenxuan Pavilion, he noticed that Sun Fuling had two volumes tucked beneath her arm.
"You're allowed to borrow books?"
"Of course." Sun Fuling brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm a teacher at Shumin Academy."
Special privileges!
The sunlight was brilliant today, and the snow on the steps was thick, crunching underfoot.
Outside Wenxuan Pavilion stretched a pair of covered colonnades alongside a long street, paved flat with polished water-ground bricks. With temperatures sitting seven or eight degrees below freezing, street vendors were reluctant to stand guard outdoors, but the permanent storefronts were mostly open, with shopkeepers stepping out to drum up business.
From far away, He Lingchuan caught the aroma of steamed rice cakes wafting from a shop ahead, and his appetite was instantly whetted. Over the past few days, he had eaten nothing but flatbreads stuffed with scallions and eggs. While good both hot and cold, eating them constantly had grown tiresome.
He asked Sun Fuling, "Are you hungry?"
Sun Fuling exhaled a plume of white vapor. "Starving. I've been eating at Shumin Academy these past few days, and it's the same few dishes over and over again. I grew sick of them long ago. Hmm, what should we buy?"
"How about this shop?" The fragrance of the rice cakes was simply irresistible, and in bitter cold like this, he desperately needed plenty of carbohydrates.
Stepping inside, they found the shop quite small, but filled with billowing clouds of white steam and wonderfully warm.
It was a steamed bun shop. Flower rolls, plain buns, meat buns, sweet scallion buns, and various other pastries sat neatly inside tiered steamers.
Yet none of these were the source of the scent He Lingchuan had smelled.
Sniffing deeply, he walked over to a round steamer. When the lid was lifted, square white rice cakes were revealed within, pristine as freshly fallen snow, steaming hot and wonderfully fragrant.
"We'll take this." With Sun Fuling's nod of approval, He Lingchuan handed over several copper coins.
"Right away! You'd like some fuling cake, sir?" The plump woman making the buns had a round face, looking not unlike a white steamed bun herself.
"Uh..." Fuling, as in Sun Fuling's name?
Sun Fuling beat him to it, nodding vigorously. "Yes! Cut large slices, even larger—make sure to cut the jujubes on top into them as well."
And so, the two of them stepped out of the shop carrying pieces of fuling cake as large as bricks. In the freezing cold where one's breath turned to ice, the pastries warmed the palms of their hands pleasantly.
He Lingchuan ate with great delight. The cake was spongy, dense, and piping hot. Beyond the unique herbal fragrance of fuling, chewing it released a subtle, lingering sweetness from the starch, and the shop had even mixed in bits of dried longan fruit.
Best of all, it was truly filling.
Glancing at Sun Fuling, he saw her cradling the cake in both hands, taking quick little bites in a manner that reminded him of a chipmunk gnawing on a nut.
Just watching her eat made it clear how delicious it truly was.
Walking side by side with Sun Fuling amidst the steady stream of people, He Lingchuan experienced, for the very first time in Panlong City, a gentle sense of leisure—the quiet, simple contentment belonging to ordinary folk.
This city and these people were, after all, brimming with the warmth of everyday life.
He could not help letting out a long, easy breath.
Sun Fuling tilted her head and asked, "What's the matter?"
"Have you ever been to the sixth floor of Wenxuan Pavilion?"
Her voice remained calm. "I went once with others to help move some documents."
"Are there lots of secrets kept there?"
"Naturally. Perhaps the authorities decided certain secrets aren't suitable for commoners, or perhaps they're kept locked away high above to prevent enemy spies from stealing them." Sun Fuling smiled. "Otherwise, why would that floor be kept locked and guarded?"
"Hmm, why do you ask?"
Chapter 245