Transmigrated into an Ancient ABO Fantasy World: A Culinary Comeback - Chapter 2

The plan was to visit the county town for some market research. After finishing her meal, Wang Xiaojin wasted no time. She rummaged through her house and managed to scrape together a few small silver pieces and several strings of copper coins. By the current standards of the Jade Dragon Kingdom, it added up to about one tael of silver, equivalent to 1,000 wen.

This was all the wealth she had. The Jade Dragon Kingdom valued commerce, and compared to other households, her savings were pitifully meager. From what she knew, most villagers earned at least 3,000 wen a month, she didn’t even have that much.

With the money tucked away, Wang Xiaojin borrowed Uncle Zhang’s donkey cart from next door and clip-clopped her way to Dongyang County in no time. Dongyang was a mid-sized county, its city walls built from bluestone and topped with pavilions. Though not towering, they exuded a rustic charm.

True to a commerce-driven nation, the streets were bustling with people vendors carrying loads on shoulder poles, hawkers at stalls, some in coarse hemp clothes, others in powdered boots. There were fortune-tellers, street performers, and all sorts of folk, creating a lively scene. The town even had greenery, with quaint, closely packed buildings lining the streets, most of them shops. A breeze swept through, fluttering the cloth banners and shop signs.

If a mere county town was this prosperous, Wang Xiaojin wondered, what must the capital be like? With such thriving commerce, her business prospects couldn’t be bad.

She guided the donkey cart at a leisurely pace, observing where she might set up a stall. What kind of food should she sell?

She noticed the food industry here was quite developed fried, steamed, stir-fried, all kinds of spices and ingredients were readily available. Surprisingly, beef was the cheapest meat, at just 20 wen per jin. Given that, Wang Xiaojin decided to make banmian authentic Anhui beef banmian, a Hebei specialty. Though banmian seemed complex, it was actually one of the simpler snacks to prepare.

After circling the town all morning, she also noticed that the areas along the Dongyang River, which cut through the city, were particularly lively. Near Dongyang Bridge, a large-scale water conservancy project was underway, with dozens of strong, hardworking men and women sweating it out on the embankments. Wang Xiaojin’s eyes lit up these were her ideal customers!

With her mind made up, she turned the donkey cart toward a few selected market stalls. She bought 25 jin of flour for 150 wen, along with various spices, chili peppers, beef, beef tallow, pots, pans, and utensils. By the time she finished shopping, her pockets were nearly empty, as if she’d been robbed.

By evening, after a full day of wandering, she returned home with a cart full of goods. She cooked dinner for her elderly mother and immediately began preparing the ingredients without rest. Still, she felt uneasy would the ancient palate take to banmian? If it didn’t suit their tastes, she’d be stuck with unsold stock.

So she worked with extra care, first melting large chunks of creamy-white beef tallow to refine the base for the banmian. The finished base resembled hotpot broth in appearance but had a completely different flavor.

The process released an intensely pungent and rich aroma. Her mother watched curiously as Wang Xiaojin tossed in handfuls of unfamiliar herbs and spices, as if concocting an elixir. Not daring to interrupt, she occasionally helped by carefully adding firewood to the stove.

Soon, a large pot of base was ready fiery red, glossy with oil, and studded with small, deep-fried black chili peppers. Wang Xiaojin ladled it into a basin and left it in a cool spot to solidify naturally for 24 hours. Once set, it could be used like pre-made hotpot broth just a small chunk could flavor a whole pot of banmian soup.

Early the next morning, Wang Xiaojin got up to check. The base had hardened into solid blocks. She took out the 25 jin of flour she’d bought the day before and began kneading it into dough, shaping it into evenly sized sticks and setting them aside. This was enough for about 50 servings not too much, just a test run.

Without a dough mixer, Wang Xiaojin’s wrists were sore from kneading. The food and beverage industry was truly no easy feat, every step was interconnected, requiring meticulous planning and physical effort. By the time everything was ready, the sun was already high in the sky.

After informing his elderly mother, he loaded all the utensils and ingredients onto the donkey cart and headed for the county town. Truth be told, he owed much to Old Zhang’s donkey cart lately. He made a mental note to treat the man to a proper meal someday.

Arriving beneath the Dongyang Bridge, he found a spot near the river workers’ worksite and set up his stall. After arranging everything, a decent-looking little food stand took shape.

By noon, though it was mid-autumn, the sun still beat down fiercely. The river workers, having finished their shifts in small groups, hurried off in search of food. Given their heavy labor, most didn’t spare much thought about spending on meals. Their wages were decent 200 copper coins a day, adding up to six strings of cash a month so a mere dozen coins for lunch was nothing to them.

Xiang Dazhuang, a burly and honest woman, was among them. She lumbered out from the embankment onto the street, intending to follow her usual routine of heading to her favorite noodle stall for a hearty, filling meal. Wiping sweat from her brow, she barely noticed her surroundings until an intensely rich and unfamiliar aroma hit her nostrils, instantly stirring her appetite.

Following the scent, she spotted a new vendor on the right, a lean but strong woman deftly handling her equipment with ease.

Curious, Xiang Dazhuang approached and eyed the pot of red broth brimming with chili peppers, swallowing hard. “Little boss, what are you selling? I’ve never seen this before.”

Wang Xiaojin, the first customer of the day standing before her, smiled warmly. “I’m selling hand-pulled noodles. This is the broth simmered with beef fat. Care for a bowl?”

“Then I’ll take one!”

“Coming right up!” Wang Xiaojin pinched off a few strips of dough, rolling and slapping them against the counter with crisp, rhythmic snaps that drew the attention of passersby.

“Impressive technique! Never seen anything like it,” Xiang Dazhuang couldn’t help but exclaim.

Wang Xiaojin dropped the noodles and some greens into the boiling pot. If one wanted to be particular, this was the “first broth” batch. Once cooked, she ladled them into a bowl wide, jade-like ribbons of noodles. She topped them with a generous scoop of the rich, spiced broth from the bottom of the pot, drizzled on some of the vibrant red chili oil, and finished with a few small fried chili peppers and chunks of beef. The bowl of hand-pulled noodles was ready.

Handing it to Xiang Dazhuang, Wang Xiaojin apologized, “I don’t have tables or chairs, but there are some tree stumps around.” Unfazed, Xiang Dazhuang squatted down and dug in without hesitation.

After mixing the noodles to coat them evenly in the spicy broth, she blew on them and took a slurp. The noodles were springy, slick with oil, and packed with heat. Xiang Dazhuang let out an involuntary “Mmm!” She tossed in a few more of the slightly charred chili peppers, biting into them to release their fragrant, spicy juices. A sip of the broth warmed her stomach with an indescribable depth of flavor rich, savory, and utterly satisfying. Every element was perfectly balanced, coming together in a way that hit all the right notes for her.

The hulking woman squatted there, chopsticks flying, lost in the bliss of eating, sweat pouring down her face. Even Wang Xiaojin found herself craving a bowl and made a generous serving for her own lunch. Others weren’t far behind soon, river workers and pedestrians began gathering around. Within just an hour, all 50 prepared bowls were sold out. Xiang Dazhuang alone had devoured four of them. At roughly seven taels per bowl, she’d polished off nearly two pounds of noodles.

The diners were all astonished, except for the fellow river workers. Among them, a man named Lu Da joked that Xiang Dazhuang had spent too much money today and would surely get an earful from his wife when he got home. Only then did she finally stop eating, and the image of a henpecked husband sparked another round of laughter from the crowd.

Dazhuang scratched his head and explained sheepishly, “My wife didn’t bring me any pancakes today. Usually, I need to eat a few more to feel full.”

Wang Xiaojin also laughed and decided to waive the cost of the last three bowls, charging him only eight coins in total. After all, his enthusiastic eating had drawn so many customers, it was only fair. Seeing this, Lu Da loudly praised her generosity, sparing Dazhuang from a potential scolding or worse from his wife.

Lu Da had a knack for humor. After happily slurping down two bowls of noodles, he wiped his sweat and came over to offer Wang Xiaojin a suggestion: “It’s so hot today. Why not serve some cold dishes to go with the noodles? It’d help cool the spice too.”

Wang Xiaojin thought it was a good idea. Cold dishes wouldn’t be much extra work, so she agreed.

By around 1 p.m., Wang Xiaojin packed up for the day. All 50 bowls had sold out. At eight coins per bowl, with a profit of four coins each, she’d earned 200 coins today. If she made this much every day, she’d only earn six taels a month nowhere near enough to repay her debt to that scoundrel Qin. Just thinking about him gave her a headache. Clearly, she’d need to make more noodles and add cold dishes to boost sales.

Before heading home, she stopped by her usual supplier to buy another 50 catties of flour, along with some potato starch and other ingredients. Potato starch was versatile, it could be used to make sheet jelly or potato noodles. The first cold dish that came to mind was the colorful “Five-Ingredient Sheet Jelly Salad,” tangy, sweet, and refreshing, sliding smoothly down the throat, a perfect pairing with the banmian.

Tomorrow’s cold dish would be sheet jelly, then. As the donkey cart trundled along the dirt road, Wang Xiaojin let the breeze wash over her, her mind already set on the plan.

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