At least it wasn't chaff and wild vegetables—Fei Qian comforted himself with this thought.
He swallowed a piece of millet cake and took a sip of mutton soup. Although the food in ancient times was all-natural, free of preservatives, and of the highest quality, Fei Qian couldn't help but sigh quietly.
While mutton stewed with saltwater and a bit of cassia twigs was considered a delicacy in the Han Dynasty, something not everyone could afford, it still left him longing for the flavors of his past life.
Compared to the bean porridge he had to eat when he first arrived in the Han Dynasty, this was a significant improvement.
But after eating this kind of food for so long, even the greasy, MSG-laden broth from hotpot restaurants in his past life seemed nostalgic…
As for dishes like twice-cooked pork, fish-flavored shredded pork, husband and wife lung slices, boiled beef, kung pao chicken, and mapo tofu from Sichuan cuisine—
Or West Lake vinegar fish, Longjing shrimp, braised pork, West Lake water shield soup, Jinling meatballs, and three-layer duck from Jiangsu and Zhejiang cuisine—
Not to mention Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, Luohan vegetarian feast, dragon and phoenix banquet, and the Shaowei banquet—all the dishes Fei Qian had enjoyed in his past life were now just memories, accompanied by an uncontrollable flow of saliva…
In the long history of Chinese culinary development, the invention of any dish was closely tied to the social productivity and tools of the time.
Fei Qian had initially thought that with his experience as a half-foodie in his past life, he could at least rival imperial chefs in the Han Dynasty, or at the very least, become a decent cook. However, the primitive cooking tools of the era quickly shattered his dreams.
In modern Chinese cuisine, three key elements played a crucial role: stoves that allowed precise control of heat, woks with excellent heat conductivity, and an ample supply of vegetable oil.
Only with these three conditions could a variety of dishes flourish, and cooking techniques like frying, stir-frying, boiling, and steaming evolve.
The nomadic Xiongnu and Xianbei tribes, even by the Tang and Song dynasties, still lacked proper stoves. They relied on open fires, and their cooking methods were limited to roasting and boiling.
In comparison, the Han people had a few more options, such as steaming and stewing, but their culinary techniques were still monotonous. For example, do you know what the most famous and prestigious imperial dish was, one that every Han Dynasty person would speak of with reverence, reserved only for major festivals or celebrations?
The legendary—Five Cauldron Feast! During Emperor Wu of Han's reign, the official Zhu Fuyan once said: "A man should either feast from five cauldrons in life or be cooked in five cauldrons in death!" Even if one couldn't eat from five cauldrons in life, being cooked in them after death was an acceptable alternative.
Such was the profound love for the Five Cauldron Feast!
Don't think the Five Cauldron Feast was some intricate and elaborate dish. In reality, it was just meat boiled in five bronze cauldrons…
Ideals are plump, but reality is bony.
The Han Dynasty didn't have iron woks—those didn't appear until the Tang Dynasty. Cauldrons were reserved for nobles, and most Han people cooked using copper pots or clay jars. These pots had thick, round bodies and small handles that heated up along with the base. Unless you had trained in the iron palm technique, flipping or tossing the pot was out of the question—unless you wanted to shatter it…
By the way, vegetable oil was scarce in the Han Dynasty. The most common type was sesame oil, which was brought back from the Western Regions by Zhang Qian. Hence, it was called 胡麻 (huma), meaning "imported goods," and its price was self-explanatory…
Fei Qian had initially tried to make a name for himself in the culinary world.
When Fei Qian expressed his dissatisfaction with the food and announced his intention to create delicious dishes himself, Uncle Fu allowed him to indulge once.
However, when Uncle Fu saw Fei Qian pour expensive sesame oil into a copper pot, his eye began to twitch. And when Fei Qian, unable to control the heat due to the pot's thickness, turned a perfectly good bunch of green herbs into charred sticks, Uncle Fu could no longer tolerate it.
From then on, Fei Qian, the spendthrift, was banned from the kitchen, and a potential culinary star was extinguished before it could rise.
That said, small-scale improvements were still acceptable to Uncle Fu.
For example, the millet cakes—steamed first and then lightly toasted—Uncle Fu approved of this method, as the toasted cakes were crispier and more fragrant. "My young master is so clever," he would say.
Or the boiled mutton—adding a bit of cassia twigs to remove the gaminess—Uncle Fu also approved of this, and he would secretly add the twigs each time, fearing others might steal his young master's secret recipe.
Thus, food in ancient times was quite limited, and only the upper class and those in power had access to abundant meals, allowing them to grow fat and wide—a state known as "福态" (futai, blessed appearance).
One of Uncle Fu's wishes was for Fei Qian to achieve this "Futai." He always felt that Fei Qian had become too thin after his illness.
Every time Fei Qian ate, he would invite Uncle Fu to join him, but Uncle Fu would always smile and shake his head.
Uncle Fu found joy simply in watching Fei Qian eat. In his heart, as long as the young master ate well, slept well, and stayed healthy, that was the happiest thing.
Thankfully, Fei Qian had sold a few liuli artifacts; otherwise, they wouldn't even be able to afford boiled mutton, let alone millet cakes. Ah, if only they had chili peppers—without boiled beef, they could at least make boiled fish or boiled mutton…
Speaking of beef, Fei Qian suddenly remembered something and asked, "Uncle Fu, Young Master Cui sent an invitation yesterday, asking me to visit his estate in the next few days. What do you think?" Of course, in the invitation, Cui Hou mentioned that the main purpose was to enjoy the scenery, drink tea, discuss classics, and exchange knowledge. Only at the end did he casually mention that a cow had recently died on his estate, and he invited Fei Qian to join him for a beef feast.
Although the Han government strictly prohibited the slaughter of plow oxen, a cow that had "accidentally died" didn't count. In the Han Dynasty, a full beef feast was akin to dining at a Michelin-starred restaurant in modern times—something ordinary people rarely had the chance to experience. Thus, Cui Hou's invitation was quite a high-class gesture.
"The Cui family… I've heard some rumors about them," Uncle Fu hesitated but decided it was best to share. "There's a respectable family in the northern part of the city. It's said that the Cui family took a liking to their heirloom jade and insisted on buying it. When the family refused, their son was accused of colluding with the Yellow Turban rebels and thrown into prison. The family, desperate and with no way out, eventually offered the jade to the Cui family, and only then was the son released with a verdict of 'no evidence.' Also, it's said that Cui Hou is close with many wandering warriors in the city, and his estate is guarded by many skilled fighters…"
Fei Qian frowned. "So, it's better not to go?"
Uncle Fu shook his head. "The Cui family, after all, were high-ranking officials in the previous dynasty and still have connections in the court. If you refuse without a good reason, it might not end well." He had a point. Even though the Cui family had declined, a starved camel is still bigger than a horse. They weren't something Fei Qian, a mere branch of the Heluo Fei family, could afford to offend.
To put it in modern terms, it would be like a former national-level family inviting a reserve government employee to a banquet, and the employee refusing—that would just be laughable.
Yes, refusing would be a slap in the face to the Cui family.
In the Han Dynasty, such face-slapping behavior could turn friends into enemies. A classic example was the feud between Tian Fen and Dou Ying during Emperor Wu of Han's reign. Tian Fen was the Chancellor, while Dou Ying held the title of Marquis of Weiqi. Once, Tian Fen ran into Guan Fu, a close friend of Dou Ying, and jokingly said, "Guan Fu, I'd like to visit Dou Ying with you, but since you're in mourning, let's forget it."
Guan Fu, however, took Tian Fen's words seriously and replied, "If you want to see Dou Ying, it must be for an important matter. How can I let my personal mourning delay state affairs? Let's set a time—how about tomorrow at noon?"
Tian Fen, finding Guan Fu's response dull, simply hummed and left.
But Guan Fu thought Tian Fen had agreed and immediately informed Dou Ying. Dou Ying spent the entire night preparing, cleaning the courtyard, and preparing food and wine. The next day, he and his wife waited outside from morning until noon, and then until evening, but Tian Fen never showed up.
Dou Ying asked Guan Fu, "Didn't you say Chancellor Tian Fen was coming?" Guan Fu, puzzled, replied, "Yes, he said he would." He then rode to Tian Fen's residence, only to find that Tian Fen had long forgotten about the appointment and was already asleep after a full meal. Dou Ying, feeling deeply humiliated, began to oppose Tian Fen at every turn.
In the Han Dynasty, face was sometimes valued even more than in modern times.
After all this, it seemed Fei Qian had no choice but to go.
Fei Qian felt a headache coming on. If what Uncle Fu said was true, then the Cui family's sudden invitation might be a case of courtesy before force. Just as they had targeted the jade from that respectable family, this time they were after the liuli technique. If it came down to it, would handing over the technique cause unforeseen consequences?
Worse still, what if the Cui family became insatiable?
Fei Qian couldn't help but curse inwardly. Why was it that in all those TV shows and novels, other time-travelers could invent things so easily, and everyone from emperors to commoners was so kind and gullible? Yet here he was, having barely made a few liuli pieces, and already he was being targeted, constantly worrying about his safety. What kind of nonsense was this!
He would just have to deal with things as they came. What else could he do? Many things weren't ready yet, and fleeing now would be too early.
"Since I can't avoid it, I'll go!" Fei Qian decided, slapping the table. He would treat this as a small test. If he couldn't handle this, how could he survive among all the other talented and powerful figures? That said, there might be another way—to seek help from his main family.
As the saying goes 大鱼吃小鱼,小鱼吃虾米 (big fish eat small fish, small fish eat shrimp). If he was the shrimp, then he needed to find a big fish to scare off the small fish like the Cui family. In modern terms, if you didn't want to listen to your boss, you had to cozy up to your boss's boss.
"By the way, Uncle Fu, where is the Cui family's estate? Do you know how far it is from the city?"
"Yes, it's not far. About eight or nine li north of the city, at the foot of Mount Mang."
Fei Qian nodded. That wasn't too far. But Mount Mang… why did that name sound so familiar?