Chapter Seven: The Gourmet

After Fang Guohuan and Luo Kun became separated in the Spinning Top Temple, Fang Guohuan wandered off alone, sorrowful, and continued his journey toward Tianyuan Temple on Lianyun Mountain. One evening, as dusk fell, he came upon a cluster of villages and approached the doorstep of a modest farmhouse at the edge of the village. He knocked gently, and an elderly man opened the door. Fang Guohuan clasped his hands in greeting and said, "Good evening, sir. I am a traveler passing through, and humbly ask for lodging for the night." The old man, seeing a solitary young wanderer, dusty from the road and seemingly having traveled far, was somewhat surprised and stepped aside, saying, "If you do not mind the humble abode, please come in."

The house was indeed simple, with only a bed, a cabinet, and a table. The old man brought out a basin of clear water, saying, "You must be weary from the road. Please wash your face." Fang Guohuan thanked him, set down his bundle, and washed his hands and face, feeling much refreshed. The old man then brought out a bowl of yellow rice and a plate of tofu, placed tea on the table, and said, "We are poor farmers, and have no fine wine or delicacies. If you do not mind, please eat to fill your belly." Fang Guohuan was deeply grateful and ate with thanks. After the meal, the old man cleared the dishes, took a cup, and sat across from Fang Guohuan to drink tea together. Seeing only the old man in the house, Fang Guohuan asked, "Sir, are your family members out?" The old man shook his head, "I have no family, I live alone." "Oh," said Fang Guohuan, sipping his tea and chatting briefly, after which the old man led him to another room to rest.

The room was tidy, with a wooden bed by the wall, simple bedding, some farm tools piled behind the door, and a bamboo basket hanging from a beam. Fang Guohuan pushed open the rear window, seeing a vegetable patch behind the house and another farmhouse nearby. Night had fallen, and lights glowed in the neighboring house, voices raised in conversation. Fang Guohuan paid no heed and lay down on the bed.

From the neighboring house, voices carried: "The sky is clear and the moon is high; why don't we brothers enjoy the moon and drink wine in the courtyard, as the ancients did with such elegance?" Another replied, "Brother Wang, you are right. We are men of letters, and must not let drinking fall into vulgarity." There was the sound of moving tables and chairs, and their voices became clearer as they settled in the courtyard. One said, "Though we are not born of the same parents, we are as close as blood brothers, true confidants. Among all the ancient heroes in books, few share such camaraderie as we do." The other responded, "Indeed! Take our writings, for example—rarely equaled in history. Who among the so-called talents of the world can compare to us?" Fang Guohuan, hearing their opening remarks, thought, "Even in this rural village, there are men of such classic spirit and boldness." But as their boasting grew, he frowned and went to the window to look.

In the courtyard, a table had been set up with a jar of wine and some peanuts and fruits scattered about. A burly man stood with one foot on a stool, chest bare, drinking heartily from a bowl. Beside him, a small man in a robe and square cap sat picking at the food, furtive and slouched. The burly man drained his bowl and, feeling inspired, exclaimed, "Among the ancient drinkers, Li Taibai was unparalleled! If only we could have lived in his time, we too would have composed a hundred poems over wine." The small man, choking on his food, took a gulp of wine and grinned, "Exactly! Our writings are no less than the ancients. If Li Taibai were here, what could he do against us?" Fang Guohuan found their bragging tiresome and returned to bed, though their voices continued by the window.

The wine had emboldened them, and the burly man declared, "With a true friend, a thousand cups are too few; when the mood strikes, sing loudly! Come, let’s drink our fill tonight!" The small man, fired up, jumped up, knocking over a stool, and shouted, "Ten bowls first! Whoever doesn't drink is a coward!" What followed was a raucous bout of drinking, laughter, and curses.

After a while, the burly man said, "This night of revelry is worth living for." The small man replied, "A hero with good wine is invincible. Let’s curse the world! Who dares answer?" Then he added, "Brother Lu, tonight is rare and joyful, but the moon is dull, the courtyard too dim. Why not burn down these two grass huts to brighten things up?" The burly man said, "No need for permission among brothers. I'll fetch the fire!" A woman ran out, protesting, "You mustn’t! If you burn the house, where will my child and I live?" Fang Guohuan, startled, hurried to the window. The burly man punched the woman, yelling, "You know nothing of a drinker's mood! Don't spoil our fun!" He struck her repeatedly until she fled with her child to seek refuge at a neighbor’s.

The burly man fetched fire from the kitchen, slapped his chest, handed it to the small man, and said, "Brother Wang, burn them all! Only then is the night truly wild." The small man was delighted, tossed the fire onto the roof, and flames quickly spread. Fang Guohuan was shocked by their reckless abandon; in the dry weather, the fire grew rapidly, engulfing the huts in moments. The two men danced and shouted in front of the blaze, drinking wildly. Driven back by the heat, they took their wine jar into the vegetable patch, sat on the ground, and stared at the inferno.

The blaze alarmed the villagers, who rushed out with basins and buckets to put out the fire. The burly man blocked their way, "What are you doing?" A young man replied, "Your house is on fire! Didn't you notice?" The burly man snarled, "My house, not yours. Get lost! Don't spoil our fun." The villagers, seeing the isolated huts and the burly man’s indifference, stood by and watched. Before long, the houses were reduced to ashes. The two men, exhausted, fell asleep in the garden clutching their wine jar, and the villagers dispersed, laughing among themselves. Fang Guohuan shook his head, closed the window, and went to sleep.

Early the next morning, Fang Guohuan was awakened by loud arguing. He opened the window to see the two drinking companions grappling with each other. The burly man roared, "You heartless fool! Why did you burn my house while I was drunk?" The small man retorted, "You brought the fire and told me to burn it, now you blame me? Absurd!" The quarrel escalated, and some villagers watched from afar, amused. An elder stepped forward to mediate, "Do not fight, or the whole village will suffer. Better settle it before the county magistrate." The two men were taken away by the villagers. Fang Guohuan, intrigued by the dramatic turn of events, waited in the village to see the outcome.

By midday, the old landlord returned and found Fang Guohuan still present, but was unconcerned. Fang Guohuan asked about the two men, and the old man laughed, "The county magistrate listened to their bickering for half a day, realized they were just drunkards causing trouble, angrily ordered forty lashes each, and threw them out of the court. The story’s spreading all over the county now." Fang Guohuan smiled wryly, left some silver for the old man, and departed.

Fang Guohuan continued on his way, eager to reach Tianyuan Temple on Lianyun Mountain to seek out master chess players and improve his skills. He often recalled what Monk Zhishan from Maple Grove Cottage had said: "Are all the world’s chess masters gathered at Tianyuan Temple? If so, to become their disciple would be all I ever wished for. My master said that true talents and hermits either dwell deep in the mountains or in bustling cities; to meet someone better than oneself is always rewarding." Fang Guohuan’s heart yearned for Tianyuan Temple, and he pressed on tirelessly.

One day, under the scorching sun, Fang Guohuan grew thirsty and found no villages along the way. Suddenly, he spotted a large locust tree by the roadside, its lush branches shading almost half the path like a giant umbrella. Joyfully, he hurried under the tree, where the shade was cool and refreshing, not a ray of sunlight penetrating. The ground was packed down, and a ring of flat stones circled the roots, showing it was a frequent resting spot. Not far away, a clear stream trickled invitingly. Fang Guohuan drank his fill, washed his face, and felt invigorated. He sat under the tree, sighed in relief, and took a steamed bun from his bundle to rest.

At that moment, a group approached from another road, led by two elegantly dressed young men on horseback, followed by over a dozen servants carrying two square boxes. The servants, pointing and smiling, quickened their pace upon seeing the locust tree. They stopped beneath it, and one young man said, "Cousin, what a splendid spot; let’s rest here and escape the heat." The other agreed, "Just what I wanted." They dismounted, their servants taking the reins to water the horses by the stream. A servant spread a mat on the stones for them to sit, and another handed them towels soaked in the stream to freshen up. Four servants placed the boxes together, which turned out to be food containers with layered compartments. A servant drew out a tray and served two exquisite dishes. Soon, six dishes were arranged, along with wine and tableware, and the servants withdrew. Fang Guohuan, seeing them from behind the tree, thought, "These two are refined—surely noblemen," and continued eating his bun.

The two young men toasted each other and laughed, one saying, "In the wild, beneath the blazing sun, drinking wine in the shade feels delightful." The other replied, "As long as you enjoy it, cousin. When we reach the next town, we’ll find a grand restaurant and sample the local specialties to satisfy your palate." Fang Guohuan listened and thought, "Let’s hope these two are not troublemakers like those previous drunkards." Then one sighed, "I, Zhao Mingfeng, have tasted nearly all the world’s delicacies. Life is but a few decades; when it ends, how much of the world can you take with you? Those princes and nobles shine for a time, but their glory is fleeting; only the pleasures of the palate are true enjoyment." The other said, "Cousin is renowned as a gourmand in Jiangnan, and not without reason. I, Zhao Sheng, though not your equal, have followed you for years, sampling the world’s cuisine, and am a half-gourmand myself." They laughed heartily. Fang Guohuan marveled, "Such lovers of fine food! This Zhao Mingfeng speaks with distinction—not an ordinary man."

Zhao Mingfeng continued, "I’ve tasted the great dishes of north and south for years, but truly satisfying ones are rare. The cooking of Han Yugong, the world’s greatest chef, I have never experienced—a lifelong regret." He shook his head wistfully. Zhao Sheng added, "Han Yugong was imperial chef, honored as 'the world’s foremost cook' by Emperor Jiajing, but after the emperor’s death, rumor has it Han retired to civilian life." Zhao Mingfeng sighed, "I searched for years but found no trace of him. Perhaps he has passed away. If I never taste the cooking of the greatest chef, then my pursuit as a gourmet is in vain." Zhao Sheng said, "They say Han Yugong’s skills are miraculous; even ordinary dishes, once he prepares them, surpass exotic delicacies." Zhao Mingfeng replied, "Though it’s just rumor, it shows his mastery. If I could hire him, no price would be too high." Fang Guohuan felt a new respect, thinking, "This man’s taste is extraordinary. For me, chess is life’s joy; for Zhao, it is gourmet food. Such passions drive one to relentless pursuit, forgetting all else."

Zhao Sheng continued, "Your father is the richest man in Jiangnan, perhaps the richest in the world. Han Yugong, or even ten or a hundred chefs, could be summoned at will." Zhao Mingfeng sighed, "A genius is unique; I have not even glimpsed him, let alone hired him. Even with all the wealth in the world, some desires cannot be fulfilled." Fang Guohuan thought, "Judging from their words, Zhao Mingfeng is no ordinary person—either the son of nobility or a great merchant." Zhao Sheng added, "Your fame as a gourmet owes much to your father. Without his generosity, you would not have such resources. Last year, you outbid a dozen noble sons to taste Liu Bencai’s signature dish—the Nine-Curve Black Dragon Pork—paying ten times the asking price, and became the talk of Suzhou." Zhao Mingfeng laughed, "You’re right. Father says he earns the world's wealth, while I savor the world's flavors—our achievements equal. He even envies my carefree life!" He laughed and toasted Zhao Sheng again. Fang Guohuan was impressed, thinking, "Zhao Mingfeng is open-minded and not the frivolous, wasteful sort. He merely loves fine food; perhaps it’s due to his upbringing."

As Zhao Mingfeng drank and laughed, he noticed Fang Guohuan behind the tree and, revealing his generous nature, sent a servant, "A Bing, invite that gentleman to join us." The servant approached Fang Guohuan, bowed, "Sir, my master invites you." Fang Guohuan, surprised by the invitation, stood, bowed, "I am Fang Guohuan, and apologize for disturbing your gathering." Zhao Mingfeng stood, "So you are Mr. Fang. Since we share this shade, let’s drink together." Zhao Sheng nodded but did not rise. Fang Guohuan wished to decline, but Zhao Mingfeng’s warm invitation made refusal awkward, so he thanked him and sat, as a servant laid out a set of cup and chopsticks. Zhao Mingfeng poured a cup himself, toasted Fang Guohuan, and asked, "Mr. Fang, you travel alone—where are you bound?" Fang Guohuan, sensing Zhao Mingfeng’s friendliness free of arrogance, replied, "I come from Hebei, journeying to Hunan in search of Tianyuan Temple." Zhao Mingfeng was surprised, "From Hebei to Hunan is thousands of miles—your solitary journey commands respect." He felt a newfound admiration for Fang Guohuan. Fang Guohuan smiled, "It is for personal interest, much like yours, and I do not shrink from hardship." Zhao Mingfeng realized Fang Guohuan had overheard their conversation and laughed, "With such perseverance, you are a kindred spirit." He joyfully toasted Fang Guohuan again. Fang Guohuan, seeing the exquisite food and wine, said, "You, Zhao, enjoy fine cuisine wherever you go—such fortune is enviable." Zhao Mingfeng replied, "The joys of life are no more than this." As a nobleman, he rarely found honest conversation partners; seeing Fang Guohuan’s modest attire but confident bearing, with a hint of boldness, he was pleased and regretted not inviting him sooner. Their conversation was harmonious.

A breeze cooled the air, easing the heat, and Zhao Mingfeng ordered the servants to pack up and invited Fang Guohuan to travel with them. Fang Guohuan, seeing their paths aligned, gladly accepted. Zhao Mingfeng was delighted and offered Fang Guohuan his mount; Fang Guohuan politely declined, but Zhao Mingfeng insisted, and they set off together, laughing and talking. Zhao Sheng, feeling uncomfortable, dismounted and let his servant lead the horse, trailing behind. After ascending a slope, a large market town appeared, surprisingly close to the locust tree, prompting laughter among them.

Entering the town, they sought out a famous local restaurant, "Four Seas Tower." Zhao Mingfeng led Fang Guohuan upstairs, and Fang Guohuan, unable to refuse, followed. Zhao Sheng went to the kitchen and ordered, "Bring every specialty, regardless of price. If my master is pleased, there will be generous rewards." The five or six master chefs were stirred and set to work, pots and pans clattering. The manager, recognizing the distinguished guests, summoned the proprietor, who came out to greet them. Soon, dish after dish was brought up, filling two joined tables. Zhao Mingfeng sat at the head, Fang Guohuan and Zhao Sheng at his sides, the servants at the flanks. The proprietor introduced each dish’s unique qualities, speaking at length, leaving Fang Guohuan bewildered at the complexity of cuisine. Zhao Mingfeng and the others were accustomed to such explanations and paid little attention. After describing several dishes, the proprietor pointed out two main courses, elaborating with pride. Unexpectedly, Zhao Mingfeng naturally added several comments on their culinary origins, all details the proprietor had omitted, leaving him stunned. Fang Guohuan silently praised him, thinking, "Zhao Mingfeng’s knowledge of food is profound—he must have devoted much study to it. Truly a gourmet!" The proprietor, seasoned as he was, quickly recovered, recognizing a true connoisseur, and ordered, "Bring two jars of fine aged wine from the cellar." He smiled, "Since you are honored guests, these jars are on the house."

Once the wine and dishes were served, Zhao Mingfeng gestured, "Mr. Fang, please enjoy and do not stand on ceremony." Fang Guohuan thanked him, marveling inwardly. Zhao Mingfeng sampled each dish with just a chopstick or two, savoring slowly, shaking his head more often than nodding, leaving the proprietor anxious. Zhao Sheng and the servants ate heartily, focusing on dishes Zhao Mingfeng had tasted. Fang Guohuan was amazed, seeing that Zhao Mingfeng was indeed familiar with searching out gourmet food. At meal’s end, much remained uneaten. The proprietor anxiously asked, "Our humble fare—did it suit your taste?" "The wine is better than the food," Zhao Mingfeng replied coolly. The proprietor grew more nervous, "Our food is ordinary, unable to satisfy your palate. Please forgive us." He sensed the guests were genuine and not frauds, and feared trouble. Zhao Mingfeng, impatient, said to Zhao Sheng, "Pay for the meal, let’s go." Zhao Sheng went to settle the bill. The proprietor, relieved, offered tea, but Zhao Mingfeng ignored him and, once Zhao Sheng returned, rose with Fang Guohuan, "Mr. Fang, let’s go. Tomorrow we’ll try a better restaurant." The proprietor bowed, "I apologize for not serving you well," secretly breathing a sigh of relief.

As they reached the stairs to leave, the proprietor suddenly called, "Please wait, I have something to say." Zhao Mingfeng paused. Zhao Sheng, annoyed, said, "Is there a shortage on the bill?" The proprietor replied, "No, please sit and hear me out." Zhao Mingfeng hesitated, then sat, "Speak, proprietor." The proprietor steadied himself, "You are no ordinary guests. I am ashamed our restaurant could not satisfy you." Zhao Sheng urged, "Get to the point!" The proprietor said, "I will. Today I see that your taste surpasses ordinary chefs. I know of a place where a culinary master resides." Zhao Mingfeng was delighted, "Where is it? How far?" The proprietor answered, "Not far. Ten li east of this town is Shiyan Village, home to an old man called Master Shiyu. He moved here over ten years ago. Some have tasted his cooking—unmatched, as if not of this world. However, he is eccentric, rarely socializes, and seldom cooks for others. He has one hobby: he is a master at chess, unmatched in the region. Greedy guests who pester him are rebuffed; he has declared that anyone who beats him in chess once will have a greater master prepare a dish never seen before. If someone wins twice, this master will cook a whole banquet of unparalleled flavors. If someone wins three times, they will taste all the world’s delicacies." Zhao Mingfeng was ecstatic, "Is this greater master Han Yugong?" The proprietor shook his head, "No, it is said to be a girl of fifteen or sixteen." "A girl?" Zhao Mingfeng was astonished, then slapped the table, "No matter who—so long as she cooks exquisite dishes, I must visit." The proprietor warned, "Master Shiyu set this rule to deter idle gourmands. Only those who win at chess may taste his food. No matter how lavish your gifts, without chess skill, he will not see you. Better not go and be turned away." Zhao Mingfeng sat back in disappointment.

He lamented, "Had I known, I would have brought Uncle Tian Yangwu, the chess master of Jiangnan. With him, my wish would surely be fulfilled." He stomped in frustration. Zhao Sheng said, "Isn’t it likely Master Shiyu is just an ordinary cook, bluffing with a chess riddle?" The proprietor replied, "A year ago, a local scholar named Cao Shuiyin, a respectable man, went to challenge Master Shiyu at chess and won a game. He was rewarded with a dish prepared by the girl. After tasting it, he returned in ecstasy, and upon sampling our restaurant’s food, frowned and spat it out, saying it was tasteless. Cao Shuiyin is usually serious, so his words are probably true. I tried to hire the girl with a heavy reward, but was refused." Zhao Mingfeng asked, "Did Cao Shuiyin then get to taste more dishes daily?" The proprietor replied, "He tried, but lost his next game to Master Shiyu; his earlier victory was mere luck. After several defeats, he left to travel, vowing to master chess and return for the culinary prize. He hasn’t been heard from since."

Zhao Mingfeng, anxious, said to Zhao Sheng, "Ride to Suzhou at once and summon Uncle Tian Yangwu. With his title as 'Chess King of Jiangnan,' he will surely win." Zhao Sheng hesitated, "The journey is long—over a month round trip. Besides, Uncle Tian often travels, and may not be in Suzhou." "Hmm..." Zhao Mingfeng was at a loss. Fang Guohuan thought, "Since Master Shiyu is a chess master, this is a rare chance to learn; I must visit and help Zhao Mingfeng, repaying his kindness." He was about to offer to play chess in Zhao Mingfeng’s stead when Zhao Mingfeng resolved, "Since a culinary master is here, this is a rare opportunity. Tomorrow we’ll go and try our luck." Zhao Sheng agreed, "Even if we fail at chess, we’ll beg for food." The proprietor smiled wryly, "Such gourmands, begging for food—rare indeed!" Fang Guohuan thought, "Let it be, I’ll go along tomorrow and see what happens." Zhao Mingfeng thanked the proprietor, sent Fang Guohuan to a guesthouse for the night, and prepared to visit Master Shiyu the next day. Before leaving, he rewarded the proprietor with ten taels of silver, who gratefully sent a fine meal to the inn, which Zhao Mingfeng accepted.

That evening, Zhao Mingfeng visited Fang Guohuan’s room, handed him a packet of silver, "Mr. Fang, tomorrow I will go to Shiyan Village and cannot accompany you further. Here are thirty taels—use them as needed. Perhaps we’ll meet again." His manner was helpless. Fang Guohuan declined, "I appreciate your kindness, but I am in no hurry. I am fond of chess; since you have difficulties, I will go with you tomorrow and hope to help." Zhao Mingfeng was moved, "Mr. Fang, you are indeed a man of honor. Let’s go together." Fang Guohuan was struck by Zhao Mingfeng’s dedication to gourmet pursuits.

Early the next morning, Zhao Mingfeng, Fang Guohuan, and their party left the guesthouse and inquired their way to Shiyan Village. Zhao Sheng, sensing Fang Guohuan’s continued presence, suspected him of freeloading and grew resentful, but dared not speak in Zhao Mingfeng’s presence, treating Fang Guohuan coldly. Fang Guohuan, aware of Zhao Sheng’s feelings, ignored him.

Upon reaching Shiyan Village, they asked a villager for Master Shiyu’s address. The villager glanced curiously at the group and pointed out the way. Arriving at a courtyard, they were met by a man busy with chores, who, seeing strangers at the gate, asked through the fence, "What brings you here?" Zhao Mingfeng bowed, "Please inform Master Shiyu that Zhao Mingfeng from Gusu wishes to pay his respects." The man muttered, "Another glutton," then asked, "You may see my master, but does this gentleman play chess well?" Zhao Mingfeng awkwardly replied, "I know chess, but am not an expert..." The man interrupted, "My master has ordered that anyone coming for food is not to be seen unless he is a true chess master. If you are not, it’s pointless—please leave." He turned and walked away. Zhao Sheng hurriedly said, "My master has come a long way. If we cannot taste your delicacies, we are willing to kneel and beg until you relent." With that, he and the servants knelt en masse, leaving Zhao Mingfeng embarrassed. Fang Guohuan was astonished by their extreme measures for Zhao Mingfeng’s palate. The man, seeing a dozen kneeling at the gate, was startled and ran inside to report. Fang Guohuan knew it was time to step forward and said to Zhao Sheng and the others, "Rise, everyone. Don’t disgrace Mr. Zhao." Zhao Sheng protested, "If you wish to help, you should kneel with us—it would repay my master’s kindness!" Fang Guohuan shook his head, "Though kneeling shows sincerity, it harms Mr. Zhao’s reputation as a gourmet. Since Master Shiyu has set the rules, I will accept his chess challenge." He took a bewildered Zhao Mingfeng and walked into the courtyard, leaving Zhao Sheng and the others dumbfounded.