Chapter 38: Tasting the Spicy Soup of Hexia Street, Cherishing the Slow Passage of Growth

“September’s chives, come and buy them!”
“Steamed buns, fresh meat buns just out of the oven—thin skin, plenty of filling, come and try them!”
Warm morning sunlight bathed the Inner Canal, its misty breath nourishing both banks. On the northern shore, Hexia Ancient Town cycled through its familiar routines; a new day began with the well-known cries of vendors. Looking north across the town, one could see the distinct lines between buildings, a testament to Hexia’s broad embrace—here resided salt merchants whose wealth rivaled nations, noble families of officialdom, and ordinary folk eking out their lives at the lowest tier.

As always, Master Shen set out from home, stepping lightly from the alley, turning onto Lake Mouth Avenue to savor his beloved Yangchun noodles. His days were carefully arranged: noodles in the morning, rice at noon.

Walking through the bustling avenue, the thick aroma of everyday life filled the air. The townsfolk of Hexia’s streets and alleys were accustomed to everything here.

Ever since he had a grandson, Master Shen’s mood soared. He strode along the stone-paved street, recalling what his daughter-in-law had said yesterday, chuckling to himself; what child is weaned right after birth? It couldn’t possibly work.

Before entering the noodle shop, he saw it steaming with activity—diners coming and going, the waiters busy and excited.

“Master Shen, good morning!” The waiter greeted him with a cheerful smile. “The usual?”

“Of course. But today, give me only half the noodles.”

“Certainly.”

This Yangchun noodle shop was the busiest on Lake Mouth Avenue; people would rather wait in line here than go to the deserted shops nearby, which spoke of their poor business.

“What a wonderful aroma!” The waiter brought over the Yangchun noodles, naturally with two eggs. Master Shen inhaled the scent and praised it.

“Finished eating, the payment is on the table,” Master Shen wiped his mouth.

“Take care, Master Shen!” The waiter’s warmth was unwavering.

The reason Master Shen wanted only half a bowl of noodles today was that he planned to savor Song’s Spicy Soup. Having witnessed Song’s restaurant host banquets, Master Shen saw with his own eyes that not only was their Huaiyang cuisine unrivaled, but their breakfast—thanks to a small bowl of spicy soup—had become wildly popular.

Lingering on the taste of Yangchun noodles, he quickened his pace.

From afar, he could already hear the lively commotion at Song’s breakfast shop; the coming and going of customers caught Master Shen’s attention.

“Boss, another bowl!” A voice echoed, stern and commanding. Looking up, Master Shen saw several wealthy salt merchants of Hexia Town drinking spicy soup, among them one fat, familiar face.

“Coming!” The waiter responded promptly, soon ladling a bowl from the deep round wooden barrel and handing it to the merchant.

Spotting Master Shen, the staff hurried over, “Master Shen, what a rare guest, please sit, please sit.”

“I’ll have a bowl of spicy soup,” Master Shen said as he found an empty spot.

“Right away.”

Master Shen observed the diners, sipping spicy soup and eating dry dishes—some had tofu skin wrapped around fried dough sticks, some ate buns, others enjoyed glutinous rice cakes.

“Master Shen, please try this.” Boss Song personally delivered the spicy soup.

“Oh dear, Boss Song, you honor me!” Master Shen stood to receive the blue-rimmed bowl.

“This is my treat.” The boss offered a piece of tofu skin-wrapped fried dough, “Enjoy slowly.”

The bowl before him steamed with heat. Master Shen knew the staff well, who could recite the ingredients like cherished treasures.

There were four key components: wheat gluten strips, vermicelli, kelp shreds, and tofu skin strips. The soup must be thickened with starch, otherwise it would be watery and bland. In the past, the starch settled from washing gluten was used. Gluten had to be washed, left to stand in clean water, then gently slipped into boiling water to cook and torn into small pieces.

Kelp was naturally soaked in advance, cleaned, cut into fine strands, and simmered until tender. The rest—vermicelli, tofu skin—were washed and cut into strips.

Water was brought to a boil in a large pot. Once boiling, half-cooked kelp was added, followed by other ingredients in order: peanuts, tofu skin, gluten, vermicelli. Everything was brought to a boil.

After a brief wait, the fragrant spicy soup was ready. A ladleful poured into the bowl, topped with cilantro, drizzled with fragrant oil, and splashed with soy vinegar. The thick, sticky broth and green cilantro nestled among the tofu skin and kelp, dotted with gluten strips, all beneath a gentle layer of aromatic oil.

Listening to the staff’s explanation, Master Shen inhaled gently; the intertwining aromas of spice and vinegar expanded, each sip both sour and spicy, delicious to the palate.

Especially in the bone-chilling winter, a bowl of thick, chewy spicy soup would stimulate the appetite, instantly warm the body, and refresh the spirit—leaving one wholly comfortable.

Speaking of the Ming Dynasty, we must trace history back to 1500, when Zhu Youcheng reigned as Emperor Xiaozong, in the Hongzhi era. During his rule, Xiaozong renewed administration, encouraged open expression, and removed entrenched abuses inherited from Emperor Yingzong. He was hailed as a “revitalizing sovereign.”

Xiaozong first dismissed and punished all corrupt and superfluous officials left from Emperor Xianzong’s reign, then selected and promoted worthy talent, entrusting capable ministers with important responsibilities.

Xiaozong was diligent in governance, holding court twice daily. He strictly curbed the power of eunuchs; the Embroidered Uniform Guard and Eastern Depot acted cautiously, punishments were lenient. He practiced thrift, avoided grand construction, and reduced taxes.

His vigorous reforms made the Hongzhi era the most favorable period since the mid-Ming. The Ming history described Xiaozong as “respectful, frugal, disciplined, diligent, and caring for the people.” Under his rule, the Hongzhi era was marked by clear governance and prosperous citizens—known as the “Hongzhi Restoration.”

Yet in 1505, Xiaozong passed away; his son Zhu Houzhao ascended the throne as Emperor Wuzong, in the Zhengde era.

Wuzong’s indulgence in pleasure led to a turbulent reign, with frequent wars—external threats from the Tartars and Dayan Khan, internal rebellions and civil unrest.

Seasons shifted, years slipped by, and Shen Kun had unknowingly reached the age for private tutoring. Attending a private school was the main way many families provided education for their children—usually a learned teacher set up classes at home, enrolling students for basic instruction. The curriculum focused on early learning, fostering reading and writing skills and basic knowledge.

Students typically studied “The Three Character Classic,” “Hundred Family Names,” “Thousand Character Text,” and Confucian classics like “The Four Books” and “Five Classics.”

Entering a private school involved parents or elders choosing a suitable school and teacher, paying a fee known as shuxiu, and then the child could attend. Students were expected to observe strict discipline—arriving on time, listening attentively, completing assignments. The schools also emphasized moral education, respect for teachers, filial piety, and traditional virtues.

In the Ming Dynasty, private education was crucial for cultivating talent and preserving culture. Many distinguished scholars, literati, and officials received their foundational education there, laying a solid groundwork for future achievement.

Given the context of the Ming, Shen Kun and Wu Cheng’en of Hexia Town in Shanyang County, Huai’an Prefecture, were born at an unfortunate moment, yet the Shen and Wu families maintained their dedication to Confucian values, determined to shield them from worldly distractions and focus solely on classical study...

“Kun’er, come over and recite ‘The Three Character Classic’ for your mother.” Under the cool canopy of the Shen household, the young mistress sat enjoying the breeze; with no school today, she decided to test her son.

“Yes, Mother, coming!” Soon, a seven- or eight-year-old boy ran out from the study. Round-faced and lively, with a square cloth tied atop his head, he was the protagonist—young Shen Kun.

“Mother, ‘Man at birth, nature is good. Natures are similar, habits differ. If not taught, nature changes. The way of teaching values focus...’” The boy recited fluently, his childish voice bringing his mother endless joy.

“Hmph, well done! Kun’er, you’re so clever. I love seeing you study.” Outwardly calm, the young mistress’s heart surged with pride; how could she not praise such dedication?

“Mother, I’ve finished. Can I go play now?”

“Go ahead, but don’t wander far.”

Little Shen Kun happily ran out to find his friends. Watching his departing figure, the young mistress felt a mix of emotions.

She remembered her own childhood, educated in a similar private school, reciting those ancient texts.

Now she passed on these traditions and values to her son, hoping he could maintain a pure and kind heart in a turbulent era.

She knew that private school was not only a place for learning, but also for moral education—here children learned respect for teachers, filial piety, brotherly love. These virtues would accompany them for life, forming the foundation of their character.

Beneath the unattainable halo of the imperial examination, countless scholars toiled; some succeeded after years of hardship, bringing glory to their families, while most failed and bore lifelong regret.

Yet this era was far from peaceful—the Ming Dynasty was undergoing unprecedented change and turmoil. Though Shen Kun and Wu Cheng’en were born at the wrong time, they held fast to their faith and pursuits.

In their youthful years, they focused on the classics, hoping through effort they might one day serve the Ming, and prove themselves.

In this special period, private education was vital—not only providing knowledge and moral cultivation, but imparting faith and spirit. This spirit would inspire them to forge ahead and strive for lofty goals.

“But Mother, sometimes Brother Xiao Liu and the others like to catch crickets and make them fight—isn’t that rude?” Young Shen Kun’s question echoed his mother’s own concerns.

“Well...” She mused, “Children sometimes play together, but these are small matters. What’s truly important is respecting others and not hurting anyone’s feelings. Even crickets are living creatures; we shouldn’t harm them carelessly.”

She gently stroked Shen Kun’s head and said earnestly, “Kun’er, remember—wherever you are, be kind, be polite, respect others. Only then will you be respected.”

Shen Kun nodded thoughtfully. He understood he must not only learn to read and write, but also learn to be a good person.

Night fell; the private school lights still shone brightly. The young mistress gazed at the moon outside the window, filled with reflection. The times were uncertain, but her commitment to her children’s education and hopes remained steadfast.

She believed that as long as they persisted in study and upheld basic principles, they would find their footing even in turbulent times.

As seasons passed, the mornings in the private school were filled with the sound of reading. It was an ocean of knowledge, a cradle of faith. Here, the children grew step by step, preparing to fulfill their ambitions for the Ming.

At seven or eight years of age, Shen Kun left the alley each day to study with his teacher; Lady Shen and the young mistress tended to the household, while Master Shen and the young master could manage the family business in peace.

Time flew by, and Shen Kun spent several springs and autumns in private school. His learning deepened, his character grew ever nobler. The young mistress’s teachings, like spring rain nourishing all things, subtly shaped their worldview and values.

During his days at the school, the young master befriended many likeminded companions—they explored the meaning of life together, pursued their ideals side by side, encouraged one another, and progressed together, swimming in the sea of knowledge, savoring the beauty of the world.

Shen Kun no longer satisfied himself with book learning alone; he began to pay attention to society, contemplating how to use his skills to change the world. They realized that behind the Ming’s prosperity lay many social issues—wealth disparity, corruption among officials. These problems stirred their sense of justice and responsibility, compelling them to contribute to the nation’s progress.

Under the young mistress’s guidance, Shen Kun not only became learned but also mastered the ways of conduct. He listened to others, respected everyone’s feelings. His humility and kindness won universal respect and affection.

Lady Shen and the young mistress watched the children grow with deep satisfaction. They knew that for true glory, the children must take the imperial exam.

Master Shen and the young master felt pride as well, seeing the children learn not only knowledge but also how to be upright people. They believed the children would shoulder the family’s legacy and bring honor to their lineage.

Meanwhile, in the leaf shop on Copper Alley, the slender Wu Rui—Master Wu—still wore the scholar’s typical attire. His goatee remained, the square cloth still tied atop his head, the gray-blue bamboo robe draped over his shoulders, and flat black cloth shoes on his feet.

Regarded as a madman by the people of Bamboo Alley, Master Wu was in truth a casualty of the imperial examination system.

What happens next, let us wait for the story to unfold...

Feng Yunxiao met a pair of phoenix-like eyes, their gaze cold and gloomy, tinged with dissatisfaction.

Elder Qian’s position at Yuntian Academy was due to his considerable strength.

Xuan Lishuang pondered the matter, when suddenly footsteps echoed from all directions, sending her nerves taut—she watched her surroundings with heightened alertness.

Huangfu Minghan narrowed his eyes, his expression growing darker, cold as the depths of winter.

The confirmation of identity alone was enough to draw attention, and with Li Yang’s resonant voice, instantly, everyone strained to listen.

In the ancient night, only lanterns illuminated the darkness; though the Left Prime Minister’s residence was brightly lit, it could never fully illuminate the entire estate.

Suddenly startled by a cold voice from behind, Old Lady Dong turned hastily, saw it was someone from Prince Chuan’s retinue, and quickly ran to hide behind Dong Lingyun.

Yet, they had only just confessed their feelings—why were they now doubting each other’s love? Was love itself too fragile, or were his previous words mere empty promises?

Nalan Qingyu saw a stream of white smoke drifting from Yingying’s jade flute.

“Wow, sister, you’re amazing! Hurry and kill these monsters—turn them into roasted eagles!” Yu Linlin exclaimed in delight.

Ling Tianxiao saw her stop struggling, grinned wickedly, and took a golden pill from his breast, swallowing it without a word.

When Gao Jing’s injuries fully healed and he was ready to return to the greater world, he received a call from Shen Qian.

Xia Tian looked at her brother’s shameless demeanor and felt anger, yet could do nothing.

“Star Rainbow Sword!” She summoned the Stellar Rainbow Ring, and a seven-star shield enveloped a radius of dozens of yards.

Those large hands were covered in thick calluses, the cracks filled with wood shavings, making them appear black and ugly.

This made the Demon-Extinguishing Pill exceedingly rare, rarer even than most grade-five elixirs.

You claim to be Young Master Xiao; shouldn’t you prove it yourself? Why must I prove you are not?

Xia Tian found it amusing, signaling with her eyes toward the two on the sofa; Lin Anping laughed with her.

True Qi comes in varying degrees of purity; when cultivators absorb and refine the world’s spiritual energy, their bodies filter out the less pure energy, lengthening the time required for cultivation.

Beiye Ao had survived countless deadly battles, but surrendering—he could never do.

“Mr. Lin…” I hurriedly shook him, only to find my hand covered in warm blood; the loud “bang” just now was clearly the sound of him falling, injured.

Actually, she didn’t know that Tian Er Miao’s parents were mostly in Paradise City, caring for the pregnant eldest sister Tian Yu Miao.

He calculated that the chaotic demon fetus had slaughtered an unimaginable number of creatures—too many to count, like the souls of a boundless purgatory.

Yet none expected that their revered manor lord, upon seeing that young man, would bow respectfully.

“Ah, young master, you’re back—did you have a good time?” The man greeted Xiao Kuang with a forced smile.