Chapter 241: Red Soup

Li Shuang stood on the corner tower, watching their retreating figures. His heart felt heavy.

To stay or to leave? For anyone, it was a high-stakes gamble concerning life and death, but he had already decided to stay.

To his surprise, Li Zhi had also chosen to remain rather than escape Dunyu amidst the chaos.

Old Master Li was currently out on bail. If he were to leave Dunyu City, the 150,000 taels of silver bail money would be confiscated, and not a single coin would return to the Li family.

However, the Li family didn't care about that amount of money, and Li Zhi likely didn't either.

Li Shuang had always considered his uncle to be mediocre and impulsive, but this time, his composure was surprisingly good.

He felt very displeased. If Li Zhi had fled, the Li family would have been leaderless again, and he could have easily taken charge.

Now, he would have to wait another month or so.

The situation within Dunyu City was changing by the day, and he was getting quite impatient.

Darkness fell, and Ding Zuodong arrived at Heshu Tower.

Shan Youjun accompanied him. Dunyu City was rife with disorder today, and Ding Zuodong carried valuable contracts, fearing they might be stolen.

Few restaurants in the city were open for business today; Heshu Tower was an exception.

Ding Zuodong had promised generous sums to everyone, from the cooks to the waiters. Of course, the most important factor was that the restaurant now belonged to Young Master He. With the owner, who served as a bellwether, remaining so calm, the staff grudgingly settled down.

However, this old establishment had only two tables of guests tonight, both regulars and avid drinkers who would come even if the sky weren't falling.

As soon as Ding Zuodong entered, he sniffed: the air was filled with an indescribably wonderful aroma.

As a severe enthusiast of fried peanuts, he could discern the heavy, broad oil aroma within, but what were the other scents that so aggressively permeated one's lungs?

He called over a waiter and asked, "Where is the great owner? Also, what dish is the kitchen making that smells so good!"

The waiter answered both questions with a single sentence:

"The owner has been in the back kitchen for two hours and said he won't see anyone else except you."

Ding Zuodong and Shan Youjun were both astonished. At such a critical juncture, the owner was actually immersed in the kitchen, spending the entire afternoon there?

He truly had a big heart; things outside were almost turning upside down!

The two hurried to the back kitchen and unexpectedly saw Mao Tao outside the door. Ding Zuodong recognized him as He Lingchuan's subordinate, but he hadn't expected the man to be sitting on a chair, guarding the door.

Fortunately, Mao Tao also recognized Ding Zuodong and yelled inside, "Boss, Manager Ding is here!"

He Lingchuan's voice came from the kitchen: "Manager Ding, please come in."

Only then did Mao Tao stand up and step aside.

Their curiosity piqued, the two walked in and saw that there was no one else in the kitchen besides He Lingchuan.

"Owner, what are you doing?"

There were numerous basins on the table, an initial count estimating twenty to thirty of them. Fortunately, this was a large restaurant with an astonishing quantity of tableware. Inside the basins was a vibrant red liquid...

Ding Zuodong pointed at a basin: "Wait, is this oil?"

He was certain that the unusual aroma emanated from the basins. But the liquid inside was a vivid red mixed with crimson gold, giving off an intense, almost murderous aura.

He Lingchuan walked over: "Yes. How were your results today?"

He could smell the oil all over him, especially his hair which felt very greasy.

At the mention of their achievements, the wrinkles on Ding Zuodong's face smoothed out: "We got it! Owner, we successfully acquired 'Oil Tiger'!" He then pulled out a stack of contracts from his pocket and handed them over. "I also took the opportunity today to acquire two shops and thirty mu of irrigated land; they were so cheap I couldn't bear to let them go."

Shan Youjun leaned in from the side: "The old brand specializing in sesame oil, 'Oil Tiger'?"

"Is there a second one? Unless it's a fake!" Ding Zuodong said, rarely elated. "Originally, 'Oil Tiger' was going to be sold to the Shu family, but I snatched it away by bidding just ten taels more than them! Hehe, always ten taels more, no matter what. You should have seen that brat from the Shu family; his face turned liver-red with anger."

Years ago, he had been unfairly accused and driven out by the Shu family, harboring resentment until now. He finally vented a small portion of it.

"He bid against you?" He Lingchuan asked, holding a large ladle and scooping something from the boiling pot.

"Only once. I jabbed him with a couple of remarks, and he swung his sleeves and fled."

The last time the Shu family's head steward saw Ding Zuodong, he had looked down his nose at him and tossed a string of coins to dismiss him. Coincidentally, it was the same steward this time, but he was so enraged by Ding Zuodong that he didn't dare to retort, and could only leave dejectedly.

The feeling of bullying with power—one couldn't say it was invigorating, but rather, profoundly satisfying.

Ding Zuodong felt once again that he had definitely hitched his wagon to the right star.

"Congratulations, owner! The entire 'Oil Tiger' enterprise, including dozens of qing of land, five oil pressing workshops, and seven oil product stores, all belong to you now!"

One of Dunyu's and its surrounding area's major staple products was oil.

Peanut oil, rapeseed oil, and sesame oil could be sold far and wide, both within and outside the province, and even presented as tribute to the capital city.

"Oil Tiger" was a thirty-year-old local brand in Dunyu, even possessing its own raw material fields, ensuring controllable quality and widespread popularity.

It had always been one of the key acquisitions Ding Zuodong had suggested to He Lingchuan, but before today, the previous owner couldn't bear to part with it, vacillating so much that even the Shu family couldn't secure it.

"If it weren't for today's special circumstances, I might not have been able to acquire it."

"You've all worked hard," He Lingchuan said, pouring the contents of the pot into a bowl, then dousing it with the vibrant red oil from a basin. "Here, have a taste."

The two hesitantly took the bamboo chopsticks the owner handed them, momentarily pausing: "Ah, this?"

This Young Master He didn't seem like someone who could cook. Could it be a hidden skill?

Shan Youjun was more straightforward. He reached out with his chopsticks, picked up a piece of meat stew.

Then another, a sprout.

He put it in his mouth, chewed, and his cheeks slowly stopped moving, his eyes widening.

He Lingchuan didn't understand what he was trying to express: "How is it?"

Shan Youjun didn't have time to reply before he let out two loud sneezes.

Fortunately, he remembered to turn his head first.

"Choking! Cough, cough, cough..." Shan Youjun couldn't string a sentence together, his face flushed crimson.

He Lingchuan was prepared. He brought a cup of water, scraped two clumps of ice and snow from an outside branch to add to it, and handed it to him: "Drink this, and you'll be fine."

Shan Youjun took it and gulped it down, finishing it in one breath, then let out a long "Ah."

Ah, freedom.

His reaction was too exaggerated, so He Lingchuan found a pair of chopsticks and took a bite himself to taste it.

Hmm, it wasn't the best taste from his memory, but it was acceptable. After all, he was just a foodie, not a master chef.

"Old Ding, you try it."

Seeing Shan Youjun's reaction, Ding Zuodong felt apprehensive, but since the owner requested it, he had no choice but to pick up his chopsticks.

He didn't know what he had eaten, but the flavor exploded in his mouth.

Numbness, spice, and aroma took turns, finally coalescing into a single word: "savory."

He Lingchuan asked with a smile, "How is it?"

"I, I can't put it into words." For the first time, Ding Zuodong felt inarticulate. "What did I eat?"

"Pig's blood."

"I'll try it again." Ding Zuodong reached out with his chopsticks and picked up another piece of meat stew.

Shan Youjun watched from the side and couldn't help but say, "Don't you think it's spicy?"

"It only has flavor if it's spicy." Red oil dripped from the corner of Ding Zuodong's mouth, and he remained oblivious. "You're not from here, you wouldn't understand!"

He Lingchuan already knew that people in southern Xiazhou loved spicy food; small chili peppers were even abundant there.

Shan Youjun, seeing how much he enjoyed eating, couldn't help but reach out with his chopsticks again.

Although he kept hissing and gasping from the spiciness, the taste was peculiar; the more unbearable the spice, the more he wanted to eat.

The two ate spoonful after spoonful, and the bowl quickly emptied, leaving only the vibrant red oil. Even after the last sprout was gone, Ding Zuodong still scooped around with his chopsticks a few times, still wanting more.

Shan Youjun, his throat burning, went directly outside to eat snow.

He Lingchuan tossed two pieces of paper over: "Wipe your mouths."

"How unseemly, how unseemly!" Ding Zuodong wiped his mouth, and the paper was covered in red oil. "I've made a fool of myself in front of the owner, but this dish truly is delicious."

He went to the water jar, scooped out a spoonful of clear water to drink, and then went to find another piece of paper.

It was so spicy his nose felt completely clear.

He Lingchuan pointed at the red oil and asked, "Do you think the people of Dunyu will like this?"

"Yes!" Ding Zuodong gave a thumbs-up. "Definitely, absolutely."

The people of Dunyu loved spicy food, but they had never combined oil, spice, saltiness, and numbing sensations. Ding Zuodong felt that this flavor would surely make them tremble from the depths of their souls.

"Then I'll leave this to you. Have Heshu Tower's head chef research dishes as quickly as possible. I'll write down the ingredients for you."

From the moment Ding Zuodong acquired the old, renowned restaurant, He Lingchuan began pondering the "Collection of Hundred Aromas" he had obtained in the Panlong dream. The spices within it indeed had specific preparation methods for the "mala" (numbing and spicy) series. Moreover, in his previous life, he had eaten so many mala hotpots, maocai, chuan'r, and red oil pots that the taste was already imprinted in his memory, and once triggered, he couldn't resist wanting to eat it.

So, this afternoon, he brought spices from the apothecary and started experimenting here.

It was somewhat successful, though just barely.

As the owner, his work was done at this point, and he couldn't invest more energy. The rest would be up to Ding Zuodong and Heshu Tower.

Ding Zuodong was overjoyed: "We have an apothecary, and we have oil mills; making this won't be a problem. The recipe should be made by a dedicated person to keep it secret, adding another signature dish to Heshu Tower!"

He Lingchuan chuckled: "No matter how much we try to keep it secret, it will still spread. Even if others don't know the exact recipe, they'll try to replicate it."

Red oil wasn't inherently difficult to make. Its very existence pointed others in the right direction.

Ding Zuodong also understood this principle: "Hold onto it for as long as possible."

He Lingchuan scooped water to wash his hands when he heard Ding Zuodong say, "The Zhan family has left. I heard they sold all their remaining grain and fields to the provincial government, including the military farm fields they had originally acquired."

"Even before we came to Dunyu, the Zhan family was already selling off assets and half their people had moved away. Now they have even less reason to stay," He Lingchuan said, not surprised at all. "Many people followed the Zhan family, didn't they?"

When large families like this migrated, other minor nobles and common people who intended to leave would follow, partly out of conformity and partly for safety.