Chapter 51: Chapter 51

With the 『Stream-Side Elder’s Divine Power — Fragment』 tucked close to his chest, Shen Xiuhan left the Ji Manor.

Though this trip had yielded no further leads on ‘Diaohailou,’ managing to secure the fragment was already an immense gain.

The annotations alone on the fragment had let slip any number of hidden secrets of the martial way.

Secret arts, divine powers…

And that so-called “Divine Presence” — in all likelihood, the even higher realm that lay beyond the legendary “Astral Strength.”

Shen Xiuhan drew a deep breath, settled his emotions, and turned back toward Mei Hall.

For the stretch of days ahead, his first priority was now clear.

He had to stockpile fifteen days of Intelligence, then Deduce this 『Stream-Side Elder’s Divine Power — Fragment』 ahead of anything else — see just what hidden wonders this method from ‘Diaohailou’ truly held!

He stepped into Mei Hall.

On the blue-flagstone training ground, outer-court disciples were still drilling their fists, shouts and calls rising in waves from every direction.

Today’s overseer was not Xu Chuan, nor was it Xiang Yunting, but a stranger.

He was lean-built, his cheekbones a touch high, with no spare expression on his face — quiet and reserved.

There were four male disciples in the martial hall’s inner court. Apart from Shen Xiuhan, he had already met Xu Chuan and Xiang Yunting.

This could only be Fourth Senior Brother, Shen Huai.

Seeing Shen Xiuhan come in, Shen Huai gave the faintest nod — as good as a greeting.

Shen Xiuhan returned the nod in kind and let his gaze sweep the training ground.

He saw no sign of Xiao Wen; nor were any of the other disciples who had been picked up at the retainer posting meeting present.

Presumably, they had all gone to their respective postings to report in.

Shen Xiuhan withdrew his gaze and headed for the inner court.

By the time he arrived, the hour was already noon, and the cookhouse was busy.

Madam Shi, the cook, was bustling in front of the stove.

At the sight of Shen Xiuhan, Madam Shi quickly set down her work and greeted him warmly:

“Sixth Young Master has come! We haven’t seen you at the hall these past two days — will you be having your meal today?”

To the maidservants, cook-women, and grooms of Mei Hall — those who handled the sweeping, the cooking, and the stables — the order of rank was as clear as day from night.

Outer-court disciples were merely men who had paid tuition and come to go through the motions: outsiders, little more.

Only the inner-court disciples, who had passed the rite of admission, counted as true masters held high above.

So, in private, they called each inner-court disciple “Young Master” or “Young Lady” in the order they had been admitted to the inner court.

Shen Xiuhan waved a hand in calm refusal:

“No need to trouble yourself. I’ll just take something and be off — I won’t be eating at the hall today.”

At that, a flicker of quiet pleasure crossed Madam Shi’s eyes, though her words stayed courteous:

“Aiya, how can that do? Young Master works hard tempering his qi-blood — you can’t go hungry…”

“Truly, no need.”

Shen Xiuhan cut her off politely, his gaze drifting toward the ingredients on the worktable.

Madam Shi did not press any further; inside, she was already beaming.

A cook who doesn’t pilfer — and the five grains go ungathered.

Mei Hall had always treated its inner-court disciples well, and on the matter of food in particular, never stinted.

But most of the inner-court disciples held postings out in the city; at any given day, only one or two stayed at the hall.

As head cook of the cookhouse, Madam Shi had a standing habit of quietly bundling up the extra meat and dishes cooked each day — or the leftovers — and carrying them home.

The past two days Shen Xiuhan had not come in, yet the hall had still prepared his midday meal as usual.

And today it had been prepared in full again.

Since Shen Xiuhan was not going to eat, that meant another good spread of meat and dishes she could take home tonight.

Her little boy at home had just turned six — right at the stage of growing quickly, most in want of this kind of meat.

That little piece of business of Madam Shi’s — Shen Xiuhan, Xu Chuan, and Xiang Yunting had long known of it.

Seeing that she had a sense of limits and dared only take leftovers — never skimming from purchase funds, still less cutting short the disciples’ portions — they had turned a blind eye and said nothing.

Had it been otherwise, the cookhouse would have changed hands long ago.

Shen Xiuhan looked around the cookhouse once.

On the stove there were dishes of meat already prepared, along with two fresh-caught river fish.

Shen Xiuhan pointed to the fish and asked:

“Are these two yellow croakers for Master’s midday meal today?”

Madam Shi blinked, then nodded quickly:

“They are. The hall master favors fish dishes, and is especially partial to yellow croaker. Two or three times every ten days, she’ll have fish…”

Shen Xiuhan nodded, then shifted his gaze:

“Is there soy sauce?”

“…Uh, yes!”

Madam Shi, thoroughly confused by the question, hurriedly pointed at the seasoning tray beside the stove:

“It’s the soy brewed at Old Chen’s place at East Bridge Head — the richest, most savory flavor…”

“Very good.”

Shen Xiuhan rolled up his sleeves and walked to the cutting board: “Today’s midday meal for Master, I’ll cook it myself. You go and handle the meals for the others.”

“Thi— this won’t do, Young Master!”

Madam Shi blanched in fright and hurried forward to stop him, her voice urgent:

“Hall Master’s meals have always been cooked by this coarse maidservant — if the hand suddenly changes and the taste’s off, and that puts Hall Master off her food, this coarse maidservant cannot bear the blame…”

Shen Xiuhan couldn’t help a silent laugh.

Oh, come off it.

With cooking like yours, that Master has kept you on as cook all this time — that’s already her being kind-hearted.

Shen Xiuhan waved a firmer hand:

“No need for further words. I come of fishing stock — preparing fish dishes is something I’m well at home with.”

With that, he took up the two yellow croakers, fetched a basin of clean water, and set to work.

Scaling, gills out, belly opened — in one smooth flow.

Yellow croaker had tender, delicate flesh, fine scales, few bones and thick meat — one of the best-tasting freshwater fish, and the finest kind for red-braising.

He rinsed the fish clean; the knife fell, and he scored a few diagonal slits down each flank.

He picked up a piece of ginger from beside him, crushed and shredded it, cut scallion whites into segments, and tucked them all into the fishes’ bellies.

Madam Shi, standing off to one side, watched with something close to a blank stare.

She had cooked fish for years — always tossing them whole into the pot, at most throwing in a couple of slices of ginger.

When had she ever seen preparation this careful?

Shen Xiuhan paid her gaze no mind. He heated the pan, poured the oil, and slid the fish in gently.

“Sizzle!”

The hot oil burst open in a cloud of white smoke.

The fish held its shape on hitting the pan, its skin drawing tight. He waited until one side had been pan-fried to a golden brown, then used the spatula to turn it over gently. He then poured soy sauce into the pan, added some yellow wine and clean water.

The braising liquid bubbled and slowly thickened.

The salty fragrance of the soy mingled with the deep richness of the yellow wine, drifting out on the rising steam.

He lidded the pan and turned the flame low to let it simmer.

After about half an hour, the sauce had reduced down, thick and glossy, coating the fish in a perfect, even glaze.

The flesh was white and tender, the color of the sauce enticing, and the rich fragrance wound straight up into the nose.

“Mmm… so fragrant…”

Standing off to the side, Madam Shi’s nose twitched; before she could stop herself, she had swallowed.

This fish — the color, aroma, and flavor were all there. It and the fish she made looked to be two entirely different dishes!

No, never mind her…

Even the head chefs of the restaurants and inns of the inner city — their work was likely no better than this, surely?

He plated both braised fish, drizzled them with the thickened sauce that remained, filled two bowls of white rice, and set everything on a serving tray.

Shen Xiuhan lifted the tray and stepped out of the cookhouse:

“Many thanks for having me — I’ll take this fish over to Master myself.”

Madam Shi opened her mouth, watching his retreating back, and couldn’t help muttering inwardly:

‘Thank heavens he’s a martial cultivator…’

‘If fish cooked as fragrantly as this were his trade, my place at the cookhouse would be the one at risk…’

Rear courtyard, the main chamber.

Shen Xiuhan ascended the steps with the tray, freed one hand, and knocked softly on the door.

“Enter.”

Mei Shuangfeng’s voice came from within.

Pushing open the door, Shen Xiuhan had just stepped over the threshold when his expression gave a small start.

Because, apart from Mei Shuangfeng seated behind the purple-sandalwood desk, there stood another figure at her side.