Chapter Thirty: Cloud-Silk Soup

Zhao Shuihe’s words left me stunned. Everything she said was almost entirely correct.

"Cloud-Silk Pottage" is derived from the Huaiyang dish "Wensi Tofu." Because Lu cuisine, particularly that of the Jinan prefecture, excels in pottage preparation, it has been absorbed and adapted by modern northern culinary schools. Its preparation is slightly simpler than Wensi Tofu, but the two are essentially the same. This dish is renowned for its precise knife-work, fresh and savory flavor, and elegant appearance.

Most importantly, this pottage is indeed the best dish I currently make. The ingredients are simple, but it is a true test of one's craft. Put simply, one must slice a block of tofu thirty-six times horizontally and seventy-two times vertically—utilizing the techniques of the heavenly and earthly spirits—to create tofu shreds as fine as reed sprouts. These are then added to a pot with starch, scallions, finely minced meat, and other seasonings to create the pottage.

Once served, the tofu threads in the soup appear like clouds or wisps—an exquisite presentation that perfectly embodies the refined elegance of "Yangchun Baixue" (Spring Snow). Furthermore, the flavor can be adjusted to the diner’s preference, making it suitable for all ages. Because it is inexpensive and geared toward the working class, it also corresponds to the humble nature of "Xiali Baren" (the common folk). This connection between the high and the low is in perfect harmony with the "Doctrine of the Mean" practiced at our Fuzi Temple, which is why I love it so much. This pottage is the signature dish on my menu and the hallmark soup of my August First Restaurant.

I was utterly bewildered. How on earth could Zhao Shuihe have deduced all of this from me? In my helplessness, I immediately asked Xian Hongye, "You didn't tell her... what dishes I make, did you?"

Hongye shook her head helplessly.

"Don't be so stubborn!" Zhao Shuihe chided me, looking triumphant. "Then I'll make you understand exactly how you 'died'!"

As she spoke, Zhao Shuihe repeated the process of her "keen observation" and deduction back to me. Come to think of it, I had overlooked the details. Zhao Shuihe had known of me for a long time; she knew I was the apprentice—albeit one who had not yet performed the formal rites—to her "grandson," Zhao Haipeng. Even so, she had no idea what my skills or heritage were. After all, I had been separated from my old squad leader for three years, and in those three years, no one knew whether I had progressed or stagnated.

At this point, Zhao Shuihe said with a smug expression, "Until you drew your blade against the Fire-Tailed Lian, I had already seen through your capabilities. What you do best is your 'knife-work.'"

Her words brought me to a sudden realization. This afternoon, when Lei Ren was performing the "Five Sons Moving Mountains" rite for my old squad leader to inquire about the "Dead Man’s Divination," we were on the verge of uncovering the true cause of his death. But at the very last moment, the Fire-Tailed Lian—the creature that had fought me to a standstill at Shiren Gu—appeared at the worst possible time. Its arrival disrupted our spirit-communication ritual with the old squad leader, which infuriated me. Seeing an old enemy, I rose in a fit of rage and drew my blade, intending to finish it off then and there to prevent further trouble. Although I miscalculated at the last moment and missed my mark, I still managed to slice off a piece of the beast's tail, which slightly vented the anger in my heart.

My series of movements, though fast, must have been seen clearly by Zhao Shuihe as she stood at the memorial hall. My signature move of reversing the dagger was indeed something I had evolved from cutting-board techniques under the guidance of my old squad leader; it was no surprise she had noticed that. However, I still could not easily believe that she could discern exactly what I cooked just from a few simple blade strokes. It was simply too mysterious.

Therefore, I asked her expectantly, "How did you judge my cooking skills from all that?"

Zhao Shuihe gave a smug little laugh. "Isn't it simple? You people from Fuzi Temple have good knife-work, but your brains are generally not very sharp."

She then told me that when I struck at the Fire-Tailed Lian, she had keenly noticed that I used wrist power—a subtle, "late-to-start-but-first-to-arrive" variation of the "Scale-Shedding Blade." The Scale-Shedding Blade is a technique mastered by "water-station chefs" who specialize in descaling fish. Because fish scales are tough and protected by mucus, they are difficult to remove. Water-station workers, who process dozens or hundreds of fish daily, would struggle to clean them properly without professional techniques. For a long time in history, this was a major problem for chefs. It wasn't until the end of the Northern Song Dynasty that it was solved by Song Wusao, the "Ancestor of Fish Preparation."

Song Wusao, who lived between the two Song dynasties, was a master chef as famous as the later beauty Xiao Meiren. Her life was filled with legends, and she left behind two precious legacies for Chinese culinary arts. One is her famous, enduring dish, "Vinegar-Glazed Fish," and the other is the "Scale-Shedding Blade" technique used by water-station workers.

I had used the very same Scale-Shedding Blade, taught to me hand-in-hand by my old squad leader, when I was in the cooking squad. At this, Zhao Shuihe said with undisguised pride, "Knife-work boils down to three things: 'force, precision, and speed.' The Scale-Shedding Blade also demands delicate power and calculation. You did well in all of these; apart from my brother, I have never seen anyone surpass you in knife-work."

I gave a faint, wry smile, accepting the praise.

Zhao Shuihe then continued her logical deduction: "With such excellent knife-work, would you not use it in your cooking? Therefore, your best dish must be one that tests knife-work to the extreme." In the culinary world, the "famous dishes" that demand the most of one's knife-work are Squirrel Mandarin Fish and Wensi Tofu (Cloud-Silk Pottage).

"And how did you know I made Wensi Tofu instead of Squirrel Mandarin Fish?" I asked.

"Isn't that simple?!" Zhao Shuihe sneered. "Sister Hongye told me everything. With your pathetic little August First Restaurant and only two people on staff, who is going to eat Squirrel Mandarin Fish? Even if you knew how to make it, you wouldn't have the opportunity to practice. On the other hand, the down-to-earth Cloud-Silk Pottage is much better suited to your level."

Her words stung, but she was right. Comparatively speaking, Squirrel Mandarin Fish is more high-end and typically not served in small eateries. But the main ingredient of Cloud-Silk Pottage is tofu, making it perfect for the working class. Moreover, Cloud-Silk Pottage is significantly simpler to make than traditional Wensi Tofu, fitting the small restaurant principle of "efficiency is king, thin margins and high turnover."

As for the rest, she didn't even need to say it. My knife-work was good, so naturally, I preferred slicing and shredding. Among mainland dishes, Shredded Pork with Garlic Sauce and Hot and Sour Shredded Potatoes are the most demanding of knife-work. Although both are Sichuan dishes, they are so popular and relatively simple to make that every chef knows them. Because of my knife-work, I made them well, which meant more customers, and consequently, I made them more often.

The truth was laid bare. I had to admit that Zhao Shuihe’s ability to "see the whole leopard by observing a single spot" was truly formidable. I had lost, but I was still not entirely convinced. It was obvious that the path she had laid out for me had been calculated since midday. Even though I had eaten half her bowl of spring noodles, she had come prepared. How could I compete with that?

Thus, I said, still unconvinced, "You won, but you had this planned since noon. That… that’s not fair!"

"I knew you'd say that!" Zhao Shuihe said triumphantly, pulling out her coin. She toyed with it as she looked at me and said, "I’ll give you one extra chance. If you can answer this, I’ll declare you the winner. How about that?"

I had no choice but to agree.