Chapter Six: The Zhen Family Fried Rice

No matter how eloquent Zhen Qian was, it was difficult to change the mindset of these ancient people in an instant. In his previous life, when selling financial products, he always packaged his opinions so cleverly that clients became fully convinced. But now, that was no longer necessary. Although his ideas were hard for these people to accept, they were all his servants and retainers; as long as he persisted, naturally none would oppose him.

“Next, I’ll divide the work we need to do…” The thirty-six people in the courtyard had always had their individual duties—sweeping and cooking, each responsible for their own tasks. Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei only needed to look after Zhen Qian. But in his eyes, this arrangement was far from sufficient. The efficiency was abysmal; essentially, each person did almost nothing all day.

“From now on, besides attending to my daily needs, Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei will also learn from Steward Wang how to manage this courtyard. Xiao Zhu will handle all external affairs; Xiao Mei will be responsible for the inner court. I won’t specify the details—Steward Wang will teach you both. Old Wang, you’re still in charge of the gate, but with an added duty: help me keep an eye on the market trends in Zhen Ding… Steward Wang, apart from your usual tasks, I want you to pay special attention to everything that happens in the rear court. I must know about every single matter that occurs there each day, no matter how trivial. Everything is to be recorded!”

As he finished speaking, his study boy, Wang You, came running up the corridor, panting. “Young Master, the Meng family’s little girl is here. Do you want to see her?”

After Zhen Qian’s fall from his horse, Meng Xiaoya had been assigned to him as a concubine by the authorities. She had tended to him for a few days but, fearing she might sense something amiss as an outsider, Zhen Qian found an excuse to send her away from the household. Unexpectedly, she had come again today.

Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei’s expressions turned awkward—another concubine meant another mistress over their heads, something they naturally resented.

“Send her back,” Zhen Qian said. He had no intention of seeing Meng Xiaoya. She was, after all, an outsider, entirely different from his loyal servants. He hadn’t fully adapted to this era yet, and with so many loopholes, it would be easy for her to discover he was an imposter. The fewer complications, the better.

Wang You, though he felt the young master had become a little strange since the memory loss, never dwelled on it. People acted oddly after losing their memories; that was normal enough.

“Very well, I’ll send her away right now!”

Once Wang You had left, Zhen Qian continued, “Wang Po and Chrysanthemum Lady are still at the temple praying for me. Someone should notify them to return. As for the rest, I’ll observe them for now. Loyalty isn’t lacking, but ability isn’t something that changes overnight. Let them work with peace of mind; I won’t treat them badly.”

Wang Qun and Wang Peng accepted their instructions and departed. Xiao Mei was about to speak when Wang You returned, “Young Master, Meng Xiaoya heard you’ve recovered and insists on seeing you. She’s hoping for a meeting.”

The news of his recovery was probably spread by Steward Xing. As for how Meng Xiaoya got wind of it, she was clearly somehow connected to Xing.

“What does she want with me? Didn’t I tell her to stay with her family for a while?”

Wang You glanced at Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei, his tone somewhat circumspect: “She’s your concubine, Young Master. If she stays at her parents’ home too long, people will gossip, and that won’t be good for the Zhen family’s reputation.”

Zhen Qian could guess Meng Xiaoya’s thoughts. When she’d first arrived, she was utterly dejected—being assigned to serve a fool was the last thing she wanted. The moment he suggested she return home, she packed up and left; there was no affection between them. He didn’t blame her.

But as long as the concubinage wasn’t annulled, she was still counted as his woman in the eyes of the world. No doubt, Meng Xiaoya wanted to end this arrangement—she’d probably even be glad to receive a letter of dismissal. That was likely her motive today.

With that in mind, Zhen Qian said to Wang You, “Send her some vegetables and fresh meat. Tell her I’m still recuperating and that any excitement might cause a relapse. Tell her to come back in three months.”

“That’ll do, I suppose,” Wang You replied, winking at Zhen Qian. He didn’t know what was on the young master’s mind, but the matter couldn’t be dragged out forever. He wished it could be resolved soon.

“Master, it’s not proper to keep delaying this. If you don’t care for her, why not just write a letter of dismissal and send her home? Having a concubine living at her parents’ house isn’t good for our family’s reputation.”

Zhen Qian did want to dismiss Meng Xiaoya, but how could he write such a letter? His brushwork was a disgrace. Bringing her into the household was equally out of the question—it would mean another set of eyes watching him. After much deliberation, delay seemed the only option.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself. These two girls also didn’t want another concubine around. Their words pushed him to dismiss Meng Xiaoya, only stopping short of saying it outright.

“The first step is always the hardest. There’s a mountain of troubles, and I don’t even know where to begin.”

Zhen Qian’s situation was truly precarious now. Since his amnesia, a host of matters had awaited his handling. Living among the aristocracy, constantly under scrutiny from all sides, one wrong move and he’d be caught out. As the legitimate eldest son of the Zhen family, Lady Xing wanted nothing more than to see him gone.

Xiao Zhu interrupted his thoughts, “Master, what would you like for dinner?”

After a month of bland food, Zhen Qian was nearly driven mad. He’d always been particular about his meals; while he couldn’t always have the most exotic dishes, his food had always been refined. Aside from his busy work life, tasting delicacies had been his favorite way to relax.

“Anything will do.”

Though his injuries were healing, the endless worries left him with no appetite, especially at the thought of facing Lady Xing.

Soon, Xiao Mei brought several dishes and a pot of wine.

There was a plate of tender spring chives sprinkled with salt, steamed goose with sticky rice, green vegetables with dried mushrooms, and a side of sashimi with dipping sauce. Everything looked and smelled delicious, but the taste was somehow lacking.

Xiao Zhu poured him a cup of wine, golden and amber-hued, sweet and mild—essentially rice wine, nothing unusual.

Seeing him take only a bite of each dish and then lose interest, Xiao Zhu assumed his taste hadn’t returned and scolded Xiao Mei, “Sister, the master’s only just recovering. Isn’t it too soon for him to eat such things?”

Xiao Mei was also puzzled. These had always been his favorites. “Master, are the dishes not as good as before?”

He hadn’t noticed during his previous bland meals, but now the difference between Tang Dynasty cuisine and modern cooking was glaring. The ingredients were wasted.

He couldn’t say so directly—taste isn’t something you change overnight. Adapting to Tang Dynasty food was no small challenge.

“It’s nothing. I just want a change of flavor.”

Xiao Mei didn’t understand. “Master, what would you like? I’ll cook it for you right away.”

“Never mind.” Zhen Qian dropped the idea of having her redo the dishes and smiled, “No need for the trouble. Take me to the kitchen. Today, I’ll cook a couple of dishes for you.”

Xiao Zhu was startled. “Master, when did you learn to cook? That’s a servant’s job!”

“What’s a servant’s job? Food is the essence of life. If a person can’t even cook for themselves, they’re just a parasite.”

Having servants to wait on one’s every need was a nobleman’s privilege. Zhen Qian knew that well enough. In this courtyard, over thirty people revolved around him—thirty people serving a single person. If that wasn’t happiness, what was?

But this wasn’t the life he wanted. Human nature leans toward comfort, but it depends on timing. Now was not the era for idle enjoyment; luxury would only sap his resolve. If he really embraced such a life, he’d soon be waiting to die. He understood that perfectly.

The two girls watched him curiously, unable to fathom why he suddenly wanted to cook—a notion completely foreign to them.

But stepping into the kitchen, Zhen Qian was instantly dumbfounded. He’d expected the kitchen to be less modern than he was used to, but perhaps still somewhat like the countryside kitchens of his own time.

But the ladles, spatulas, and utensils… He was dizzy with dismay. He’d underestimated things. The kitchenware of his own era was nowhere to be seen. On the stove were only a few huge iron pots and various steamers, even an oven for baking flatbread—but not a spatula or ladle in sight.

He promptly abandoned his plan to cook. This was nothing like the kitchens he knew—calling it primitive was being generous.

Of course, this was just his own impression. For people of the Tang Dynasty, this kitchen, while not luxurious, was already above average.

“Master, what would you like to cook? I’ll fetch the ingredients at once!”

Fetch ingredients? What for! Zhen Qian was speechless. Even the most skillful cook can’t work without the proper tools. He needed the right equipment—without a spatula, what could he possibly do?

He was about to turn and leave when a sudden idea struck him. How foolish he was! If there was no spatula, why not have one made? If everything was ready-made, how could he ever show his ingenuity? If he wanted to make a name for himself, he would have to overcome difficulties. At that thought, he chuckled and said, “Heat the iron pot until it’s smoking. Prepare rice, eggs, diced chicken, shrimp, green peas, carrot, chopped scallions, cooking wine, salt, pepper, and so on. Today, I’ll make you both a serving of Zhen’s Special Fried Rice. I guarantee you’ll want to swallow your tongues!”