Chapter Seventeen: The Patron

“What is a soufflé? And what is braised pork?”
Wang Heng’s eyes widened.
She had never heard of these things before, but her instincts as a food lover made her salivate uncontrollably.
Good things were always delicious things.
Wang Mian: ...This is bad. She got too carried away and let it slip.
But what could she do? She had waited for months and only managed to catch this one patron.
Though the girl was young, she was generous with her money.
A string of copper coins—Wang Mian glanced at it and estimated there were no fewer than a hundred coins.
Her cheap father in this ancient world would go to the docks, laboring from dawn till dusk, exhausting himself for only a dozen or twenty coins.
But Wang Mian, with just one serving of Immortal Tofu, had earned over a hundred coins.
The cost of making Immortal Tofu was nearly zero.
The leaves from the Immortal Tree were picked in the woods at the back of the mountain; aside from the labor for processing, there was little expense.
In this era, labor was the least valuable commodity.
Wang Mian hadn’t even needed to use the main workforce of her household—just a handful of children, and they managed to make Immortal Tofu for several days.
A few days of effort, and this one transaction had more than doubled her earnings.
It was worth it!
Absolutely worth it!
This young lady from the noble household was obviously a little foodie—the perfect fat sheep Wang Mian needed.
To keep milking her, Wang Mian had to go all in, to win her over decisively.
...But perhaps she had gone too far; her pitch was a bit too much.
Whether it was soufflé or braised pork, they both required a crucial seasoning—sugar!
There was no sugar in the Great Zhou.
Brown sugar, white sugar, rock sugar—none of it existed.
For the nobility, the main source of sweetness was honey.
Or, in the south, there were fruits like sugarcane.
But Yizhou was in the north.
After arriving, Wang Mian tried to subtly probe, and found that her grandparents and parents had never even heard of sugarcane.
Of course, her family was so poor that their knowledge couldn’t represent the era’s full standards.
Maybe sugarcane existed, but her family simply had no access to it.

But Wang Mian couldn’t be certain whether this “patron” she had stumbled upon knew about sugarcane, or possessed seasonings ordinary people couldn’t dream of.
“...To answer you, young lady, soufflé is a kind of pastry—soft, fragrant, sweet, and melts in your mouth. But without certain seasonings, I can’t say for sure if I can make it!”
“Braised pork is much the same...”
Afraid she’d promised too much, Wang Mian tried to temper her words. Making no money was a small matter; offending a noble could cost her life.
“What seasoning do you need? My family has plenty!”
Wang Heng was completely hooked, unwilling to let her go easily.
“...Sugar! I need sugar! If there’s no sugar, sugarcane will do!”
Wang Mian couldn’t dodge the question any longer and braced herself to state her needs.
“There’s no sugarcane!”
Wang Heng pouted, her lips drooping in disappointment.
She looked so pitiful and aggrieved.
Madam Fu saw this and her heart ached.
She regretted letting this farm girl onto the carriage, giving her the chance to fill Nine Miss’s head with wild ideas.
Wang Mian forced a laugh; she had expected this outcome.
Seeing Wang Heng’s disappointment, Wang Mian felt guilty: Look at me, tempting a little foodie when I can’t deliver.
Though Wang Mian looked about the same age as Wang Heng, she had already lived two lives.
Before crossing over, she’d graduated from university and was working herself to the bone at an e-commerce company.
After arriving here, her age shrank considerably, but she was still eight years old.
Her body was severely malnourished, so she appeared only five or six.
In both mental and “actual” age, Wang Mian was older than Wang Heng, so she regarded her as a little sister.
To satisfy her own interests, she was “bullying” a little girl—
Just as Wang Mian was feeling remorseful, Wang Heng suddenly exclaimed in delight, “Wait, I have zhe syrup!”
She remembered that before leaving, her grandmother had given her many precious ingredients, including a jar of zhe syrup.
“Zhe syrup? What is zhe syrup?”
Wang Mian had never heard of it.
Madam Fu snorted, “You boast of making delicacies that even nobles haven’t tasted, but you don’t even know zhe syrup?”
For a cook to claim expertise yet be unfamiliar with ingredients commonly used by the wealthy—what a joke.
“Zhe syrup is made from sugarcane juice.”
A month ago, merchants from the south had shipped some sugarcane along the Yi River.

Wang Heng had eaten sugarcane and tasted zhe syrup.
Sugarcane couldn’t be stored long, but zhe syrup lasted longer.
Her family had used their traditional preservation methods to keep a jar.
This time, as Wang Heng was sent to the manor, Madam Xie—who usually disliked her—was unexpectedly moved by pity, and knowing her fondness for food, gave her some treasured ingredients from her own kitchen.
Among them was the jar of zhe syrup.
“Sugarcane juice? Oh, sugarcane juice will do!”
The moment she learned it was sugarcane juice, Wang Mian’s eyes lit up.
She could turn sugarcane juice into sugar.
With sugar, she could unlock more delicacies.
Soufflé and braised pork would no longer be empty boasts!
“If you trust me, young lady, give me the zhe syrup and a few days’ time. I promise to make dishes you’ll love!”
As Wang Mian finished speaking, she realized her boldness.
She’d lived in the ancient world for months and understood the scarcity of resources.
In modern times, sugar was everywhere and cost less than a few dollars; here, it was a luxury only the powerful could enjoy—
Priced like gold!
And often unavailable even for those who could afford it!
She had just asked for the zhe syrup outright, but the other party didn’t even know who she was—
“Wang Da Ya, resident of Wang Family Temple. The temple belongs to my Wang clan, and the villagers were originally tenants of the Wang clan...”
Wang Mian was considering whether to introduce herself to gain their trust, but Madam Fu had already revealed all her information.
Wang Mian listened in shock. From stopping the carriage to being allowed aboard to answer questions, less than an hour had passed, and her background had already been thoroughly investigated?
After her surprise, Wang Mian accepted it: Of course. They were nobles.
One command, and attendants and servants would ride off to gather information.
In no time at all, everything was clear.
What struck Wang Mian most was the authoritative tone of Madam Fu, who had mentioned “under my Wang clan’s name.”
Could it be that this young lady she’d stopped was from the Wang family temple’s main household—the Wang clan of Langya?
Amazing. By randomly stopping a carriage, she had caught the real patron!