Ch 73: Guide to Feeding a Villainous Husband

Partnering with Xing Yiming to open a candy shop was undoubtedly a profitable venture.

Qin Xia was still focused on saving money to eventually open a restaurant and buy a house in Shengjing. Therefore, when it came to making money, he approached every opportunity with utmost diligence.

Peppermint and sour plum candies were made using similar methods—preparing the mint juice or sour plum juice and then mixing them with sugar syrup.

Before the mixture solidified, it was cut into small pieces, and once it hardened, it became semi-transparent hard candy.

The key to this process was not using rock sugar, which had many impurities, but rather the rarer white granulated sugar.

White sugar in Dayong was difficult to produce, as it required a filtration method called “muddy water rinsing,” which took over ten days to yield a batch of fine white sugar similar to modern granulated sugar.

Thus, white sugar was expensive. Qin Xia had spent one tael of silver on a single package—a price that was several times higher than regular sugar.

This meant the candies, once made, couldn’t be sold cheaply.

After three attempts, the final batch came out more crystal-clear than the previous ones.

He popped a peppermint-flavored candy into his mouth and realized that using peppermint leaves could help balance the cost.

Next, he moved on to making nougat.

Compared to milk candy, nougat simply had added nuts.

Qin Xia bought some pre-roasted sweet almonds and, using the same method as milk candy, made a thick milk syrup. He poured the candy mixture into molds he borrowed from Xing Yiming and carefully placed the almonds inside.

Once cut, the nougat had a perfect balance of milky sweetness and crunchy almonds. It was less overwhelmingly sweet than regular milk candy.

Qin Xia ate two pieces in a row, regretting that he hadn’t made this candy before Yu Jiuque left.

Since he was also busy with the restaurant, he could only find time here and there to make the candy, so it took him two days to gather all the ingredients and finally attempt making jelly candies.

Qin Xia knew that making jelly candy required cornstarch, but he wasn’t sure which type of starch would work best. To test this, he prepared potato starch, pea starch, and corn starch, planning to try each one.

Jelly candies needed to be fruit-flavored, so he bought several types of seasonal fruits from a fruit vendor in advance.

The most common fruits at this time of year were pears, melons, mulberries, cherries, and some wild berries from the mountains.

Wild berries had lovely colors, but they weren’t very sweet—most of them were sour enough to make your teeth hurt.

Melons and cherries weren’t easy to juice, so after surveying his options, Qin Xia bought pears, mulberries, and some wild berries, along with a bag of hawthorn.

Back home, he started by juicing a few pears, intending to begin by making pear-flavored jelly candy.

He boiled the syrup, added the juice, poured in the starch, and cooked it over low heat while stirring constantly…

After a long trial, Qin Xia was drenched in sweat and his arms ached, but he finally reached a conclusion—pea starch worked best.

Chewing on a freshly made piece of candy, he quickly scribbled a few notes on paper with a brush.

Pea starch was more expensive than the other two, but given that white sugar was already a costly ingredient, it didn’t seem like such a big deal.

Besides, their business wasn’t based on low-margin, high-volume sales—these costs were manageable.

By the end of the night, Qin Xia had produced three batches of jelly candies: pear, hawthorn, and berry flavors.

The pear-flavored candy lacked color, making it closer to the natural color of sugar, while the hawthorn and berry flavors—one red and the other purple—looked much more appealing.

In a few more weeks, when peaches, pomegranates, and crabapples were in season, he could expand the flavor options.

Soon, these candies were delivered to Xing Yiming.

The peppermint and sour plum candies were refreshing and crisp—one cooled the mind, and the other quenched thirst and cut through greasiness.

The nougat looked similar to milk candy at first glance, but the nuts inside complemented the rich sweetness of the milk perfectly.

The jelly candy, however, was the real showstopper.

After tasting the candies, Xing Yiming finally understood the texture Qin Xia had described—it was soft but not sticky, with a chewy “meaty” feel. When you squeezed it, it would quickly bounce back.

“These candies need unique names to make them stand out as something only we offer,” he suggested.

The two of them racked their brains and first came up with names for the hard candy and nougat.

They renamed the hard candy Yujing Candy (Jade Crystal Candy), since “yujing” refers to crystal in ancient times, perfectly matching the candy’s clear and glossy appearance. The flavors were prefixed for differentiation, like Mint Yujing Candy and Sour Plum Yujing Candy.

The nougat was renamed Guoren Mi Rutang (Nutty Honey Milk Candy), to make it clear to buyers that it contained nuts.

As for the jelly candy, they couldn’t find a more fitting or concise word than “soft.” The word itself was enough of a selling point.

With everything ready, within a month, their candy shop, named Pinyifang (Tasting Sweets Shop), opened on Banqiao Street.

Qin Xia took a batch of mint candies and placed them on the counter at both his restaurant and the canteen. Every customer received one mint candy when they paid their bill, with the candy wrappers printed with the Pinyifang logo. Anyone who liked the candy would know where to buy more.

Soon enough, people realized that Pinyifang was also one of Qin Xia’s ventures, and many went to the new shop to show their support.

As Qin Xia predicted, the best-seller in the summer heat was the mint candy.

With the weather growing hotter, popping a mint candy into your mouth brought instant relief and refreshment.

Eating one after a meal could freshen breath, sending a cool breeze straight to the top of your head, which also helped stave off drowsiness.

The scholars burning the midnight oil became the most loyal customers, and soon, the candy became wildly popular among them.

The two types of nougat, sour plum candy, and jelly candies also sold well. For several consecutive days, the shop couldn’t keep up with demand, selling out daily. Xing Yiming had to quickly hire two more workers to keep up with production.

One thing after another kept Qin Xia busy, leaving his days completely full.

When occupied, he didn’t have time to think about Yu Jiuque much, but every night when he returned home, just before bed, he couldn’t help but glance at the empty dressing table.

Ah Jiu had only taken three things with him when he left.

The first was the silver hairpin Qin Xia had given him, the second was the goldfish fan they had bought during the Lantern Festival, and the third was a shuttlecock made from Da Fu’s fallen feathers.

As Qin Xia ran his fingers along the edge of the dressing table, he was about to blow out the lamp and go to sleep when he suddenly noticed that the drawer beneath the table was slightly open.

His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly pulled it open.

Inside the nearly empty drawer lay a small bamboo tube. Qin Xia steadied himself, picked up the tube, and examined it closely by the light of the oil lamp.

He had only seen something like this in TV dramas—it was the kind of small, light container often tied to a carrier pigeon’s leg.

There was indeed a small piece of paper inside.

Holding his breath, Qin Xia used a fine hairpin that Yu Jiuque had left behind to carefully pull out the note and gently unrolled it.

The handwriting was unmistakably Yu Jiuque’s.

Given the limited space on the note, there were only a few words written on it—anything more wouldn’t have fit into the bamboo tube.

“Arrived in Shengjing, safe, no need to worry.”

The tension that had built up inside Qin Xia for so long suddenly dissipated.

He didn’t bother questioning where the bamboo tube had come from—most likely, it had been delivered secretly by one of Liang Tianqi’s men, to avoid detection.

He also didn’t know if he would have the chance to send a reply to Yu Jiuque, but regardless, just knowing that he was safe was enough.

Qin Xia placed the bamboo tube under his pillow.

That night, he slept peacefully, without dreams.

…

May 5th, the Dragon Boat Festival.

This was Qin Xia’s first Dragon Boat Festival in Dayong.

Following tradition, before heading out, Qin Xia hung leaves of calamus on the door and sprinkled realgar wine around the house and courtyard using grass dipped in the mixture.

On his wrist, he wore a changming lü, a long-life thread bracelet that Fang Rong had given him the day before. It was woven from colorful silk threads, occasionally peeking out from his sleeve.

“Wear this and don’t take it off easily. Wait for the first rainy day after the Dragon Boat Festival, cut it off, and toss it into a puddle, alright?”

In Qin Xia’s memory, Fang Rong would always make these bracelets for Liu Douzi and the original owner each year. But this time, she made an extra one, which she ended up tying around Da Fu’s neck.

“Our Da Fu should live a long life too!”

“Gagaga!”

Da Fu, playing along, affectionately rubbed against her.

When Qin Xia arrived at the restaurant, the glutinous rice had already been soaked.

The staff from the dining hall were also there, arriving early for a group effort to make zongzi (rice dumplings).

“This year, we’re making two kinds: sweet and savory. The sweet ones will have red bean paste or honey dates, and the savory ones will have salted egg yolk and pork belly.”

The workers, sleeves rolled up, stood in surprise.

“Zongzi can be made with meat?”

“I’ve never had savory zongzi before in my life.”

Zheng Xinghua and Zhuang Xing thought back to the day before, when Qin Xia had specifically asked them to stew a pot of meat and peel the yolks from salted duck eggs.

“Savory zongzi is a Dragon Boat Festival specialty in the southern regions. I’ve tried it before, and it’s quite tasty. Qin Ji has always offered food different from other places, and since our customers trust us, we should give them something new to try.”

His words convinced the staff, and given the boss’s culinary skills, no one doubted whether adding meat to the zongzi would be a waste of ingredients.

However, since the zongzi would contain meat, the wrapping technique was slightly different from the triangular sweet ones. Qin Xia demonstrated how to wrap the meat-filled zongzi, then assigned those who learned quickly to be in charge of making the savory ones.

The prepared braised meat was a glossy red, its aroma already mouthwatering.

Each zongzi contained a large chunk of meat along with a whole salted egg yolk.

Qin Xia set the prices: sweet zongzi were eight wen each, or two for fifteen wen. Savory zongzi were twenty-five wen each, with a deal that if you bought four, you’d get one sweet zongzi for free.

The first batch was steamed for the staff to try.

Naturally, everyone wanted to taste the meat zongzi first. Even those who thought savory zongzi sounded strange couldn’t resist the sight of the large chunks of meat, which made their mouths water.

Qiu Chuan and Qiu Yao, the sibling duo, shared one. They each bit from one end, the freshly steamed zongzi still hot. The first bite didn’t reach the meat, but the sticky rice had already absorbed its rich flavor.

“So this is what savory zongzi tastes like.”

“Delicious! As expected from the boss.”

“Honestly, even if they were priced higher than twenty-five wen, I bet people would still buy them.”

Qin Xia wasn’t too interested in the meat zongzi. Instead, he picked one of his childhood favorites, the sweet honey date zongzi, and finished it in a few quick bites.

By lunchtime, two large steamers had been set up in front of Qin’s Restaurant, filled with freshly steamed, hot zongzi.

Qiu Chuan called out to passersby while ushering customers into the restaurant.

There weren’t any complex dishes requiring Qin Xia’s attention, so he sat at the front counter, handling the accounts, watching Qiu Chuan and Qiu Yao move briskly between the tables.

At one table sat a family of four. The father had bought two savory zongzi and two sweet ones at the entrance. He handed them to Qiu Chuan, asking him to unwrap them and serve them on a plate.

The two young children were eating, with sticky rice smudged on their faces, their legs swinging as they babbled on with innocent questions.

“Daddy, does the emperor eat zongzi during the Dragon Boat Festival?”

“Yes, of course, he does.”

“Then the emperor must eat golden zongzi, right?”

The remark caused the surrounding diners to chuckle.

The children’s parents sighed helplessly, explaining that they had taken the kids to watch a theater performance a couple of days ago.

“Ever since then, they’ve been going on about the emperor and empress.”

Qin Xia overheard this and couldn’t help but smile.

…

A thousand miles away, in the imperial city of Shengjing.

According to palace tradition, on the Dragon Boat Festival, the emperor would attend a midday ceremony at the Wumen Gate, where he would offer cakes to the court officials.

Afterward, the emperor would lead the officials to the palace gardens to watch archery and dragon boat races.

However, this year, the emperor was unwell, so all the festive activities were simplified.

The civil and military officials were given the day off, each receiving gifts of zongzi, aihu (amulet of herbs), palace fans, and colorful sticks. They all returned to their homes.

With the court officials on leave, even the palace maids and eunuchs could take a brief breath of relief.

The close attendants were all dressed in formal robes adorned with five-poison aihu patches, going about their duties beneath the palace’s red walls, adding to the scenery.

Two young palace maids hurried along, having been given a task, and as they reached a corner, they nearly collided with someone.

The leading maid looked down and first saw embroidered boots, then the qilin pattern on the robe. Her legs immediately buckled in fear.

“Your servant greets the eunuch! Please spare us, Your Grace!”

The maid behind her quickly knelt as well, pressing herself to the ground, too frightened to raise her head.

The qilin pattern was an imperial design, and in the inner palace, only a grand eunuch could wear it.

These were powerful figures who could crush them with just a finger!

“Stand up.”

The palace maids didn’t know which powerful eunuch they had encountered, but he spoke surprisingly kindly.

Trembling, they got up and saw that the eunuch, along with the young attendant at his side, had already picked up the things they had dropped.

“When working in the palace, be mindful of your actions. This time, you encountered me, but if you run into another master next time, twenty strokes of the cane might leave you half dead. Understood?”

“Yes, we will remember!”

The eunuch said nothing further and walked away slowly, bypassing them.

Once he was a good distance away, one of the palace maids whispered, “I recognize that young attendant. He serves under Eunuch Yu, the newly appointed head at the Directorate of Ceremonies.”

“You mean… the one who just spared us was Eunuch Yu?”

“Yes…”

The knowledgeable maid quickly added in a low voice, “That’s the same Eunuch Yu who used to serve in the Imperial Stables and has recently gained the emperor’s favor. He’s been promoted to the Directorate of Ceremonies as a personal attendant!”