Chapter 2: Delivering Crab Soup at Night

“So much?” Cao Chengyu exclaimed in surprise.

The head cook nodded.
“Madam said that young master has been studying all day and needs to replenish himself. She told us to prepare extra.”

“Uh… all right… just leave it here. Xiaosan, you stay; the rest can go.”

“Yes, young master.”

Once the others had left, the youngest kitchen hand, Xiaosan, approached Cao Chengyu.

“Young master, shall I bring out the utensils?”

“Yes! Let’s get started!”

“Right away.”

Nimbly, Xiaosan produced a large number of bottles and jars from a hidden compartment beneath the floor. Each container had a small paper label stuck to it.

Chili powder, snow salt, oyster sauce, aromatic vinegar, cumin powder, pepper, spicy sauce, garlic sauce, teriyaki sauce, and so on—all of these had been blended by Cao Chengyu himself, bottle by bottle. While some condiments did exist in this world, they were rare.

Xiaosan had played a significant role in this process. As the young master, Cao Chengyu was technically forbidden from cooking himself—such a thing would be shameful if word got out. That was why only a young, illiterate kitchen hand like Xiaosan, after proper “ideological education,” could become his right-hand man.

“Young master, what shall we cook today?”

Seeing the eager look in Xiaosan’s eyes, Cao Chengyu suddenly realized that in the past, whatever food he couldn’t finish would go to Xiaosan, but this time, there probably wouldn’t be any left for him.

He patted Xiaosan’s shoulder with a serious air.

“Xiaosan, this time, I have a special use for the food we prepare. You can have some of the dishes made by Chef Huang and the others. Also, bring me a little roast duck and some pancakes—I’ll have a bite as well.”

“All right…”

“Is there anything else you’d like me to help with, young master?”

“Tend the fire, and keep it blazing.”

“Understood.”

Xiaosan felt no resentment at all—for him, any kind of meat dish was already a luxury beyond reach. To hope the young master would cook especially for him? Pure fantasy.

“Oh, Xiaosan, after you finish eating, run over to the ironworks on Heming Street and have them make this for me.”

Xiaosan readily agreed, taking a thin wooden board with a drawing sketched on it.

With a few bites to tide himself over, Cao Chengyu quickly set to work.

Next to the city of Xianque ran a tributary of the Luo River called the Lan River, which was abundant in crabs. Fishermen often caught fat river crabs and sold them to wealthy households.

Therefore, the Cao family’s kitchens were never short of big crabs.

The preparation of crab soup was fairly simple.

After shelling the river crabs, they were stirred in boiling water. During the cooking, spring onions, ginger, rice wine, and other aromatics were added to remove any fishiness and to enhance the flavor. When the meat came loose, the other ingredients would be fished out.

Then, beaten eggs, diced meat, chopped scallions, aromatic vinegar, and other seasonings were added. A touch of sweet potato starch would be used to thicken the soup until it became a glossy, rich broth.

Cao Chengyu also added a little oyster sauce and his own seafood sauce to deepen the umami. The result was a shimmering, flavorful crab soup of exceptional freshness.

He tasted a spoonful: the fragrance was rich, the crab meat tender and smooth, and amid the savory notes there was a subtle sweetness—a truly delicious dish.

While it hardly compared to the master chefs of his former life, here, it was superb.

While the soup was still hot, Cao Chengyu straightened his clothes and fixed his hair. With his handsome and sunny face, he cut a striking figure.

He hurried off to deliver it to his aunt.

His aunt, Lin Yunjiao, lived in a small building within a side courtyard of the Cao family estate. After her husband, Cao Donglai, passed away, she had been ostracized by the other branches of the family. Her material circumstances were comfortable, but her spirit suffered.

Cao Chengyu had visited her a few times as a child and had grown close, often coming by.

Really, he swore, before today, his visits here were purely to watch—no, not for that—well, to play. Yes, to play, as a child.

The gate of the side courtyard was flanked by two rose bushes. It was not yet the season for blooms, so the foliage was a dull, inky green—lacking in beauty.

Cao Chengyu bent low, slipping furtively past the gate, around the rockery, hugging the wall, and quietly approached his aunt’s boudoir.

Inside, the lamps were bright. Judging by her habits, she was probably doing embroidery.

Taking a deep breath, Cao Chengyu, his hand trembling slightly, knocked on the door.

A gentle, refined voice answered.

“So late—who is it?”

“Aunt, it’s me.”

“Chengyu? You’ve come to see your aunt so late; how thoughtful.”

Footsteps approached, and with a creak, the door opened.

Standing before him was a beautiful woman with a face like a blooming peach blossom and elegantly arched brows, her mature features lit up by a joyful smile.

“Come in quickly. It’s cold outside on a winter night. Don’t catch a chill coming to see your aunt.”

“All right.”

Invited in, Cao Chengyu accepted his aunt’s concern, though his gaze couldn’t help but drift toward her generous and enticing figure.

Snapping back to himself, he found he was already seated by the long table, the bowl of crab soup in his hand now resting on the tabletop.

His aunt glanced at the crab soup but didn’t question it. Instead, she leaned back on the long bench opposite, picked up her embroidery needle again, and asked,

“Chengyu, is there something you need from your aunt? It’s late—there’s nothing much here to entertain you with.”

She sat alone on the bench, the lamplight illuminating her jade-like complexion, her beauty glowing like the new moon, as if snow were heaped upon blossoming trees. Her posture was elegant and serene, her bearing both graceful and languid, her manner soft and charming, her words gently teasing—a beauty truly beyond compare.

He was momentarily entranced.

“Chengyu? Chengyu?”

“Ah… Aunt, I just got home and realized I haven’t visited you in a few days. I hurried to the kitchen for a bowl of crab soup, to wish you good night.”

“Crab soup? The kitchen has such delicacies and has never brought any to me.”

She set aside her embroidery, knelt by the table, and curiously lifted the lid from the clay pot. One sniff, and she was taken aback.

“How fragrant! Let your aunt have a taste.”

Though thirty-five, she acted with a girl’s excitement, picking up the jade spoon and eagerly tasting the soup.

“This…”

The freshness bloomed on her tongue, and a subtle sweetness came through with each chew. The tang of vinegar blended perfectly with the crab, whetting her appetite.

The more she ate, the more delicious it seemed.

Before long, she had finished the entire bowl.

No sooner had she finished than she began to complain.

“Hmph, those kitchen hands—always giving the good things to the other branches, never sending me so much as a taste. Only you, Chengyu, think to share something good with your aunt.”

“Your care for me has not been in vain.”

Ding! Favorability +3!

Cao Chengyu smiled with delight—his efforts had paid off. He quickly added,

“If you like it, Aunt, I’ll have the kitchen prepare a bowl of crab soup for you every day.”

“Wouldn’t that cause trouble if your third or fourth aunt found out?”

“They’ll never know,” Cao Chengyu replied confidently.

After all, he was the one making it. Unless he said something himself, who could possibly know?

“Well… all right then.”

His aunt appeared hesitant, but inside she was secretly delighted. At her age, she couldn’t just ask her nephew outright for such a favor.

Based on the system’s prompt—Favorability +1—Cao Chengyu keenly confirmed his guess.

After chatting with his aunt for a while longer, he took the empty clay pot and quietly left.