Damn it, I'm in the garbage book I wrote

Chapter 915 The New Xianyang Debuts!

Within three days of Changsun Wuji's memorial being submitted to the palace, the imperial edict was issued.

Her Majesty the Queen approved the memorial and added at the end, "To share joy with the people is the greatest virtue."

The imperial decree spread like wildfire, reaching every prefecture, state, and county within ten days.

The Wei Kingdom also cooperated by distributing the news of the competition. It's no joke that those northerners could never beat the gourmands from the south. We had to give them a good beating.

Soon, the old chef from Lingnan began packing his bags, carefully wrapping the dried mushrooms and preserved duck, and putting the fruits he couldn't name into bamboo baskets.

His apprentice squatted in front of the stove, carefully wrapping the 20-year-old clay pot with straw, while several plump white geese honked noisily behind him.

"Master, I heard that Guanzhong is dry, this clay pot might crack."

"If it's cracked, it's cracked. We'll buy new ones when we get to Xianyang." The old cook didn't even look up, continuing to pack various spices into the boxes.

Meanwhile, the men of the northern desert tied up the dried beef and mutton tightly, and then placed whole, processed lambs on their carts. A young herdsman, touching the silver knife at his waist, said to the old man beside him, "Father, this time when we go to Guanzhong, we must let those people from the Central Plains taste the flavors of our grasslands!"

The camel bells jingled as a caravan from the Western Regions, laden with cumin, sesame seeds, and secret spices in leather bags, instructed its members in broken Mandarin: "Once we reach Xianyang, find a place to dry these spices; they mustn't get damp."

The convoy from Northeast China was carrying wild game and mountain produce. Thick cotton quilts covered the goods, which were filled with ice made of saltpeter, for fear that the heat on the road would spoil the food.

The chefs in Jiangnan work the hardest, constantly changing the water for the live fish in the wooden buckets and carefully tending to the vegetables in the baskets.

The master chef from the Central Plains brought his family's traditional noodles, and the pot of broth that had been simmering for thirty years was sealed tightly in an earthenware jar.

The official road leading to Guanzhong was bustling with activity. The shouts of people from all over the country and the rumble of carts and horses mingled together. There were people driving oxcarts, pushing wheelbarrows, and carrying loads on their shoulders, all heading towards Xianyang.

This new city, built over twelve years on the north bank of the Wei River, cost the imperial court an immeasurable amount of money and was entirely constructed by craftsmen from Fuliang. The city walls remain as tall and majestic as ever, but once you pass through the city gate, the scene inside leaves newcomers speechless.

Everywhere you look, there are buildings made of red bricks, arranged neatly as if measured with a ruler. The streets are wide enough for eight horse-drawn carriages to run side by side, and the ground is paved with dusty cement, so you don't have to worry about getting muddy feet on rainy days.

The most impressive thing is its drainage system, which is truly ingenious. Since its invention, the smell of sewage in the city has disappeared, and the cleanliness brings a sense of well-being.

The shops facing the street now have bright, clear glass windows instead of the old paper windows, making it easy to see what goods are displayed inside.

Several elderly men from the countryside stood in front of the shop, pointing at the glass window with expressions of disbelief.

"Is this a window made of crystal?" An old man reached out tremblingly to touch it, then quickly pulled his hand back.

A shop assistant from the next shop stood at the door, trying to attract customers while explaining with a smile, "Sir, this is glass, much cheaper than crystal."

And then there's that huge thing in the city center—dozens of enormous towers. Waterwheels and pumps carry water from the Wei River into them, and then the water flows through bamboo and iron pipes buried underground to every household. When you open the pipes, clear water gushes out. This news spread on the way here, and many people wanted to see this strange thing for themselves.

When Song Wu Sao, who was known as the best fish sashimi expert in Jiangnan, walked into Zhuque Street with her apprentice, she almost thought she had gone to the wrong place. She had been to Suzhou and Hangzhou, Nanjing, and Fuliang, but she had never seen streets so straight as if they had been drawn with ink lines, houses so square and without even a flying eave or upturned corner, all with uniform red brick walls. They looked neat and tidy, but they lacked a certain charm.

"Master, look!" The young apprentice pointed to several buildings still under construction in the distance, his voice filled with surprise: "Those buildings are so tall, all made of bricks, won't they collapse?"

A dark-skinned man nearby overheard this, grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth: "Young man, don't worry, this is the formula given by Commander Xia. It has iron bars added, called reinforced concrete, it's very sturdy! Not to mention four or five stories, even if you build it higher, it won't be a problem! I work here myself, judging from your accent, you're from my hometown, aren't you?"

The young apprentice immediately went up and chatted excitedly with the person.

Song Wu Sao didn't speak, but silently observed this unfamiliar city. Sunlight shone on the glass windows, reflecting a dazzling light. People came and went on the streets, mostly cooks like her who had come from all over. Some were already familiarizing themselves with the new brick stoves, while others gathered in twos and threes to chat.

To host this culinary competition, the new Xianyang city government cleared out its central square and the two widest streets adjacent to it. Hundreds of stoves made of blue bricks were being built, and laborers were busy grouting the joints with white mortar. Ingredients transported from all over the country were piled up like mountains, and the aroma of various spices mingled together, already making people's mouths water even before the fire was lit.

Cooks, merchants, and onlookers from all over flocked to the area, crowding the main streets of the new Xianyang. The sounds of hawking, laughter, carriages, and arguments mingled together to create a lively symphony of everyday life.

Outside Chang'an, Li Zhi stood on the highest watchtower, gazing at the increasingly bustling new city across the Wei River. Dusk was falling, and lights were already twinkling in the direction of the new Xianyang, with the faint sounds of commotion carried on the wind still audible.

“Father’s move was truly brilliant,” he exclaimed to Li Chengqian and Tuoba Shang beside him. “Look how busy the roads leading to Xianyang are now.”

Li Chengqian stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze calm: "Xianyang has seized this opportunity to showcase its grandeur to the world, and products from all directions have been exchanged for each other. This policy has brought many benefits. This new city, which has been criticized for being wasteful and burdensome to the people, has ultimately not disappointed."

Tuoba Shangke had no interest in listening to any of this. He sniffed hard, as if he could really smell the aroma from the other side of the Wei River: "Who cares what kind of river it is? I just want to know when we can go over there and eat to our hearts' content! I heard that a restaurant in Lingnan makes dragon and tiger fighting dishes, and snakes and cats cooked together! They also have roasted camels stuffed with lamb, and lamb stuffed with chicken!"

Seeing his drooling expression, Li Zhi could only shake his head helplessly: "Second brother, mind your manners."

"Maintenance?" Tuoba Shang scoffed dismissively. "Can formalities feed you? Isn't this place just for eating? If you're not going, I'll go."

After speaking, Tuoba Shang began to climb down, not wanting to endure hunger for even a minute longer. Meanwhile, at the Prime Minister's residence, Changsun Wuji, the old minister who had once been critical of Xia Lin, was carefully reviewing the list of famous chefs from various regions and the inventory of supplies submitted by his subordinates.

He had to admit that the vibrant energy and market vitality brought about by Xia Lin's seemingly casual stroke were far better than any method he could come up with.

Xia Lin is Xia Lin; no one else can do this.

The central square of the new Xianyang, along with the connected "Baiwei Lane" and "Zhenxiu Street," has now become a grand gathering place for gourmets and ordinary people from all over the world.

After thinking for a moment, Changsun Wuji turned to his wife and said, "Madam, let's take the children with us today and go to Xianyang to experience the joys and sorrows of life."

Although there are still many days before the official competition, the culinary masters who arrived early are already eager to compete.

Some were familiarizing themselves with the heat control of the new brick stoves, some were showcasing their unique skills to enhance their reputation, and some simply set up their business.

As a result, the brand-new urban area was like being thrown into a huge, boiling, and fragrant pot.

The air was filled with a mixture of hundreds of fragrances.

The master chef from Lingnan tended his clay pot, where the "old-fire soup" bubbled and steamed, the sweet aroma of herbs intertwining with the rich flavor of meat and bones, rising gently with the rising steam.

The whole roasted lamb set up by the man from northern China was slowly turning over the charcoal fire. The succulent fat dripped onto the embers, occasionally bursting into fragrant smoke that mixed with the strong aroma of cumin and chili powder, forcefully filling the nostrils of passersby.

In front of the Western Region merchants' stall, a huge tandoor oven radiated scorching heat. Freshly baked buns were golden and crispy, their beef and mutton fillings releasing a rich and enticing aroma, attracting passersby to stop and watch. Another Western Region chef was preparing a piece of marinated camel meat, ready to demonstrate his secret "pit-roasting" technique, a sight that also drew a crowd of onlookers.

The experienced chef from Northeast China had a large fish on his cutting board. Holding a sharp knife, he skillfully scraped off the scales, preparing to demonstrate his signature stewed fish. The fish was tender and fresh, and this way of eating was both rustic and appealing.

In Jiangnan, the scene at the chopping board is quite different. Skilled chefs wield their knives with lightning speed, slicing fresh fish belly into pieces as thin as cicada wings, almost transparent, and then arranging them into lifelike peony and butterfly shapes, drawing cheers from onlookers.

The pastry masters from the Central Plains were not to be outdone. With ease, they could manipulate the dough in various ways as they pulled and slapped it, drawing cheers from passersby. Children were so captivated that they forgot to take the sugar figurines their mothers offered.

The crowds thronged shoulder to shoulder, the smells of sweat, cosmetics, and earth mingling with the aromas of various foods, creating a unique and vibrant atmosphere of everyday life.

Merchants dressed in silk shrewdly examined the rare spices and novel kitchen utensils, whispering to their companions about purchasing. Ordinary people in coarse cloth and short jackets, holding their bewildered children, gazed longingly at the freshly baked, golden-brown naan bread sprinkled with sesame seeds, carefully counting out a few copper coins.

Even some scholars and literati who usually adhere to the principle of "a gentleman keeps away from the kitchen" could not resist the temptation at this moment.

These guys who talk endlessly about classical Chinese are now standing at roadside stalls, some holding bowls of spicy and sour soup, sweating as they eat. Others are marveling at a plate of glistening shrimp dumplings. A few young men who look like scholars are gathered around a stall selling mutton stew, arguing about how big to break the bread into for the best flavor.

"That was awesome! That was fucking awesome! When I get back, I'm going to get one made in Jinling too, and you guys can all come and have a go."

With a handful of roasted mutton sprinkled with chili and cumin in his left hand and a steamed rice cake dripping with honey in his right, Tuoba Shang ate with gusto, his face and mouth covered in oil and sauce. As he ate heartily, his eyes scanned the surroundings like searchlights, looking for his next target.

Li Zhi and Li Chengqian followed behind him, trying their best to maintain the dignified demeanor of royalty, but their eyes, which kept drifting towards the various food stalls, still betrayed their restless desires.

"Second brother, you...you slow down." Li Zhi couldn't help but whisper a reminder as he watched Tuoba Shang devour his food, while he himself couldn't help but sniff the rich aroma of mutton in the air.

"What are you pretending for? You're even pretending while eating." Tuoba Shang retorted vaguely, stuffing the remaining steamed rice cake into his mouth in a few bites, and pointed to a long queue not far away: "Look over there! I heard it's a master chef from Shandong, his braised dishes are absolutely amazing, if you go late you won't get a single bite!"

Li Chengqian, more attentive to the diverse crowds gathered in the newly established Xianyang because of its delicious food than to satisfy his own appetite. He noticed that, in addition to the temporary food stalls, the permanent shops with their large glass windows were also taking the opportunity to offer a variety of novel goods. Exquisite glassware, brightly colored cotton fabrics, and intricately crafted clocks were displayed alongside tapestries, gems, and dried fruits from the Western Regions, attracting the attention of people from all directions.

People, goods, and capital converge here at an unprecedented speed and scale. He even saw several people in the crowd dressed in low-ranking official robes, holding notebooks and jotting something down from time to time. They must have been officials ordered to observe the city's conditions and customs.

"Brother Chengqian, look over there."

Xiao Wu had followed us unnoticed. She had changed into ordinary girlish clothes and pointed to a relatively quiet corner at the edge of the square. There, several chefs from different regions were gathered together, gesturing and exchanging ideas. A chef from Lingnan was explaining the use of dried mushrooms to a chef from the Western Regions, while another pastry chef from the Central Plains was demonstrating how to make dough, all while a man from the northern desert watched intently. Despite their different languages, they were chatting animatedly through gestures and demonstrations.

Li Chengqian nodded slightly and said with a smile, "If only the world could always be this peaceful."

At this moment, Sister-in-law Song was carefully wiping the knives in front of her stove, while her apprentice was washing the ingredients to be used tomorrow.

"Master, this place is really strange. Even the stove is made of bricks. It's probably difficult to control the heat."

"Stop talking nonsense." Song Wu Sao didn't even look up. "Prepare all the ginger and scallions. We can't lose face for Jiangnan."

As night fell, countless lanterns were lit in the square. The stoves in each household were still burning, and the chefs were preparing for the official competition a few days later. The aroma in the air grew stronger as night went on. Xia Lin, walking through the crowd, almost wanted to cry, because he had forgotten how many years it had been since he had seen such an authentic night market. The only thing missing now was a bottle of iced cola—not sugar-free, but full of unhealthy white sugar and carbon dioxide that would make one make an unpleasant sound.

(End of this chapter)