Great Song Dynasty Writer

Chapter 369 Braised Carp with Noodles, Puyang Recipe

Lu Beigu sat upright inside the carriage.

It's a bit painful to think about; this newly purchased carriage cost a full 210 strings of cash, and he would need to save up three months' salary to pay Shen Kuo back.

Originally, he was thinking of just buying a cheap one.

But after trying out a carriage at a dealership, I discovered that those cheap carriages were cramped, had extremely poor shock absorption, and were simply torture to ride in.

Lu Beigu wasn't the type to endure hardship without effort, and he certainly didn't want to ruin his lumbar spine just to save money.

He figured that since he was going to buy his own carriage anyway, he might as well go all out and buy a more expensive one.

The interior of the carriage was quite spacious. Facing him was a small table that served as a desk and dining table. He sat on a long brocade seat that he could comfortably sit on and curl up on when he was tired.

Four integrated wall cabinets are installed on both sides, each with a different size and internal structure, but all of them can be locked from the outside to prevent items from falling out. One is a bookshelf for writing implements and books, another is a food cabinet for snacks and drinks, another is a living cabinet for pillows and bedding, and the last one is a luggage rack for various bundles.

The carriage's shock absorption was also quite good, making it much smoother to ride than the vehicles he had rented before.

Of course, what attracted Lu Beigu the most was actually the gimmick the merchant was promoting to him—the entire carriage was made of thickened elm wood planks, and the windows and doors could be locked from the inside, providing complete protection against attacks from ordinary arrows.

In fact, Lu Beigu knew very well that paying for such a product that was being marketed and was almost impossible to use in daily life was a very low-value proposition.

Moreover, if we were truly surrounded, even with this function, it would be useless. If the carriage could block arrows, could the horses pulling the carriage also do so? If the horses were injured or dead, could the carriage grow legs and run on its own?

To put it nicely, it's called stalling for time; to put it bluntly, it's called waiting to die.

But then again, having this function is better than not having it; what if it could save your life someday?
So, in the end, Lu Beigu still paid the money.

Shen Kuo was delighted to learn that he had been assigned to the position of guard. When Lu Beigu expressed his concerns about safety, he personally made some minor modifications to the carriage.

Shen Kuo installed a long, narrow hidden compartment under the carriage, large enough to hold a halberd. If there was any danger, Huang Shi, who was driving the carriage, could simply pull it out to defend himself.

The so-called "Heli stick" refers to a long stick with an iron hoop wrapped around its upper end, which shifts the center of gravity forward. Its characteristic is that the iron hoop increases the striking power, combining the flexibility of a stick with the armor-piercing ability of a blunt weapon.

Compared to common clubs, white clubs, and whistle sticks, the halberd is more lethal and can effectively kill even lightly armored units wearing leather armor.

In the hands of a master, breaking through armor or even shattering bones with a single blow is not difficult.

Most importantly, this weapon is legal to carry. The reason why it is not widely used is because it is long and heavy, making it difficult to carry around easily.

But this shortcoming is not a problem at all for horse-drawn carriages.

You get what you pay for.

This business trip was his first time riding a long distance in a new horse-drawn carriage, and the experience was indeed quite good; he was very comfortable.

The car window was already open, and he slightly lifted a corner of the blue cloth curtain, letting in the morning breeze carrying the scent of damp earth.

As the towering gate towers of Jingyang Gate receded into the distance, the view outside the city suddenly opened up.

It was late spring, and the official road was crisscrossed with fields and wheat seedlings that had sprouted ears, gleaming with a green and yellow luster in the morning light.

Early-rising farmers were drawing water for irrigation, the creaking of waterwheels mingling with the sounds of carriages and horses on the official road.

Along the way, one could see many villagers carrying vegetables, fruits, and firewood to the early market. Upon seeing this group of officials, they all made way to the side of the road, their eyes filled with awe.

After walking a few more miles, the farmland on both sides temporarily disappeared.

To the left of the official road was a military camp wall built of rammed earth. Here, a bustling market had spontaneously formed. On the open ground outside the fence, thatched sheds and cloth umbrellas were densely set up, and stalls stretched along the camp wall.

Freshly slaughtered fat sheep hung upside down on wooden racks, and the butcher's assistant swung his cleaver, the chopping board thumping loudly, blood flowing down the gutters into the soil; live chickens, their feet bound, were stuffed into bamboo cages, their clucking and flapping wings mingling with the shouts of bargaining; peasant women squatted behind coarse cloth mats, in front of them were pineapples, spring leeks, and tender lettuce still glistening with dew, and beside them, crucian carp freshly caught from a tributary of the Bian River swam in earthenware basins; and vendors carrying loads of wheat cakes and flatbreads weaved through the crowd.

Many soldiers on leave crowded around these stalls, exchanging copper coins for cooked meat and vegetables, or surrounding a quack doctor selling liniment for bruises and sprains, watching him slap plasters on the backs of soldiers lying on long benches, massaging and kneading them with a series of crackling sounds.

On the right side of the official road, however, was a different scene altogether. A large garden was enclosed by a vermilion fence, with flying eaves and brackets peeking out from among the lush ancient cypress trees. Occasionally, figures dressed as eunuchs would hurry past along the wall. This was the Beizhai Palace and Shuixin Hall, which belonged to the imperial family.

Just across the street from the bustling market on the left, this side is very quiet.

People from towns and villages near Kaifeng were reluctant to go to that market area. Only a few shrewd stall owners selling seasonal flowers and fruits would place their baskets full of red cherries and white mulberries closer to the main road, hoping that palace servants coming out to buy things would take a second look, so that they might be able to make more money.

Because Lu Beigu's carriage was quite heavy, its normal speed was not particularly fast. At this moment, it was traveling alongside a clerk riding a mule.

Why are there so many vendors selling live chickens at this market?

After observing for a while, he poked his head out and asked.

"Reporting to Imperial Censor Lu," the clerk said, bowing on the mule, "it's because in the eighth year of the Dazhong Xiangfu era, a large-scale avian epidemic broke out in the Central Plains, Hebei, and Shaanxi. In the ninth year of the Dazhong Xiangfu era, Emperor Zhenzong issued an edict prohibiting the killing of chickens in the capital. Chickens had to be killed outside the city. The current emperor is benevolent and filial. After ascending the throne, he did not rescind this edict. As a result, not only are chickens no longer raised in the palace, but very few are also raised in the city. Fresh live chickens are all killed outside the city and then transported into the city."

"I see."

As Lu Beigu spent more time living in the capital, he discovered that the capital did indeed have many strange and unusual rules.

Most of these rules were policies formulated by previous officials to deal with certain events. Although times have changed and the preconditions for formulating the policies no longer exist, subsequent officials have still inherited their inertia.

I suspect that's how those mountains of code were created.

Now that the Song Dynasty has reached its mid-dynasty stage, these strange inherited rules are only a small part of what makes the whole society increasingly sluggish. The real problem lies in the deep-seated and intractable malpractices, such as the "three redundancies" problem.

"If we change it, people won't be used to it, and it could very well lead to new negative chain reactions."

Lu Bei thought to himself, "If we don't change things and just continue like this, we'll collapse sooner or later."

The reform was an inevitable action that arose when Song society reached a certain stage in its development in order to save itself.

No one can stop this trend, because many real-world problems exist objectively and are beyond human control.

For any official, if they don't consider their descendants, whether the reform succeeds or fails, as long as the reform succeeds, they will gain wealth and power; if it fails, they can temporarily shift the focus of their problems.

The carriage slowly traveled north along the wide official road, its wheels sometimes crushing scattered vegetable leaves and sometimes startling sparrows pecking at grains.

There are two important routes from Kaifeng to the Hebei border. One route goes through Kaifeng, Chenqiao, Changyuan, Chanzhou, Daming, Hejian to Xiongzhou, and is called the East Route. The other route goes through Kaifeng, Chenqiao, Huazhou, Xiangzhou, Luozhou, Shenzhou to Xiongzhou, and is called the West Route.

These two roads diverge at Chenqiao.

As the place where Emperor Taizu Zhao Kuangyin donned the yellow robe, Chenqiao Post Station was nominally a post station, responsible for transmitting imperial decrees and military intelligence, as well as welcoming and arranging accommodation for passing officials.

But in reality, there is a super-large town built around Chenqiaoyi, a transportation hub.

Its outline is still in the distance, but the bustling sounds of the city are already coming with the spring breeze.

Upon entering Chenqiao Town, the main street is several meters wide, with deep grooves left by wheels on the bluestone pavement. Two- or three-story buildings line both sides, such as foot shops with flags, pawnshops decorated with colorful silk, and exchange shops with signs bearing the character "解" (meaning "to resolve" or "to expedite").

The wharf of the canal, which was dredged from the old course of the Yellow River, was bustling with activity. Boats loaded with grain had just unloaded their cargo when they were filled with porcelain and medicinal herbs destined for the north. The boatmen's shouts and the cries of laborers looking for work made ripples appear on the water's surface.

A cavalryman in charge of military reports galloped past Lu Beigu's carriage, and pedestrians on the road hurriedly made way for him. He had a small flag on his back and his clothes were billowing in the wind as he headed straight for the post station.

They strolled slowly in the same direction as the cavalry.

If the town entrance is mostly filled with shops related to trade, then further in, service shops become more common.

Lu Beigu lifted the curtain of the car window and saw scholars composing poems on the second floor of the teahouse, peddlers throwing dice and shouting in the tavern, an old doctor practicing medicine on the street in front of the pharmacy, and even a fortune teller setting up a stall with a cloth banner that read "predicting good or bad fortune".

He got off the carriage at the entrance of Chenqiao Post Station. A complex smell wafted over him: the muttony smell of lamb, the smoky aroma of roasted new tea, the fishy smell of horse urine, and the dampness of the canal water.

It was midday, and the Chenqiao Post Station was quite large. The group, who had been walking all morning and were very tired, had a good meal and rested for more than an hour.

Later that afternoon, the group continued their journey from Chenqiao Town, passing through Pan Town and arriving at Changyuan County for the night, covering a total distance of 85 li (approximately 42.5 kilometers).

The next day, their pace slowed considerably. After leaving Changyuan County, they barely made it into Huazhou by the afternoon, covering only forty li. They then traveled another ten li or so and decided to stay overnight in Weicheng County.

On the third day, they traveled even slower, but fortunately they finally left Huazhou and arrived at Weinan County in Chanzhou, not far from the border between the two prefectures.

Only then can it be considered that they have officially entered the territory of Hebei East Road from Jingji Road.

After a quick meal, Lu Beigu and Cui Taifu discussed matters in a private room.

“Imperial Censor Lu, I’ve been busy traveling the past few days and haven’t had time to discuss things properly with you. Now that we’ve entered Chanzhou, we need to carefully discuss our next steps.”

Cui Taifu laid out the Ministry of Justice's files on the table and pointed to one of them, saying, "The file records that Zhao Village is located fifteen li northeast of Puyang County in Chanzhou, about three li from the old course of the Liuta River. Last year, the river breached its banks, and this village was the first to be hit. All the houses were destroyed, and the villagers either drowned or fled. It is now probably abandoned. The so-called 'name taboo' means that even if it is true, there are very few witnesses and physical evidence now, making it extremely difficult to investigate."

"Villages may be destroyed, but place names remain."

Lu Beigu stared at the paragraph that had been circled in red ink and said in a deep voice.

"As you said before, the first thing we should do when we arrive in Chanzhou tomorrow is to consult the local chronicles and county records to find out the history of Zhao Village. I've been thinking about this for the past two days, and we must find out the details, especially whether the village was named before or after the emperor's ascension to the throne. If it was before, it's a historical legacy and understandable; if it was after, then the local officials cannot escape blame."

"clear."

Cui Taifu nodded and added, "As for the claim that 'the shovel resembles a funerary object,' that is even more unfounded."

He glanced at the closed door and said in a low voice, "To be honest, I think all river-control machinery has a set pattern. Even if the shapes are similar, it is difficult to directly link them to 'ominous'. I think this is just a fabrication. We should investigate the source of the rumor and see if someone deliberately spread it and made a far-fetched connection."

"First, we need to investigate everything that needs to be investigated."

Lu Beigu explained his point of view: "We are ordered to investigate the case. Even if it is a false statement, we still need to conduct on-site investigations so that we can have evidence when we report back."

Cui Taifu smiled apologetically and said, "It's my fault. I fell into my old habit of investigating cases. I know that finding the source of rumors is not the most important thing, but I still want to get to the bottom of it."

"I understand. We will definitely investigate this thoroughly when we have the opportunity, but we need to complete our main task first."

Lu Beigu said, "Upon arriving in Chanzhou tomorrow, we should first pay our respects to the prefect, reveal our identities and purpose, then review the relevant documents, and then personally visit the old site of Zhao Village and the breach site to interview the villagers. We should also pay extra attention to whether any suspicious individuals have been active here, stirring up trouble."

“Okay.” The two discussed until the appointed time before resting.

Lu Beigu lay on the bed, listening to the faint sounds coming from outside the window, his mind filled with a myriad of thoughts.

This trip, seemingly an investigation into baseless rumors, could in fact change the political landscape of Hebei and even the imperial court at every step. He had to be cautious and proceed with extreme caution.

On the morning of the fourth day, the team continued their journey north.

Lu Beigu opened the window, and his heart sank as he looked out.

—The difference between Chanzhou and Huazhou is like heaven and earth!
The collapse of the Liuta River last year, which claimed countless lives, is still a year old, but the damage along the river has not yet healed, and the tragic scenes of the survivors are shocking.

The area along the official road in Chanzhou, which should have been filled with thousands of acres of fertile fields and neatly arranged villages, is now dotted with fields washed away by floods, collapsed roofs, and large tracts of muddy wasteland.

The withered mulberry and jujube trees stood crookedly beside the murky puddle, like countless desperate arms pointing to the sky.

Because of the collapse of the dam, after the Yellow River thawed and rose in the spring this year, small streams of water have been flowing along the breached dam to this side, and the air is always filled with a lingering, stuffy smell, a mixture of silt, decay, and the fishy smell of water.

What's even more heartbreaking is the endless stream of refugees on the roads.

They were helping the elderly and carrying children, most of them dressed in rags, pale and thin, with empty and numb eyes. Some elderly people leaned on tree branches, coughing and panting; some women carried their only remaining tattered bundles, and the babies in their arms cried weakly; and many teenagers were barefoot, shivering in the chilly spring air.

"My lord, please have mercy and give me some food."

A gaunt man rushed to Lu Beigu's carriage, knelt on the ground, and kept kowtowing, his forehead covered in dust.

“My family’s farmland and house are all gone, my wife and children are all dead, and I’m left with my old mother. We really can’t go on living like this.”

Huang Shi, who was driving the car, looked at the blind old mother next to the man and his heart softened. He took some dry food and gave it to him.

The man accepted the gift with profuse thanks, but was reluctant to eat it himself. He carefully handed it to his blind mother, murmuring, "Mother, eat. Mother, eat."

Not far ahead, an even more tragic scene came into view.

Under a withered tree by the roadside, a woman with a pale face slumped on the ground, with a straw marker stuck in the ground beside her.

A pale and thin girl, about six or seven years old, was being led by her hand, sobbing softly, her little face covered in tears and mud.

The woman's eyes were unfocused; she seemed deaf to her daughter's cries, only shouting at the convoy, "Three bushels of rice! Just three bushels of rice!"

Lu Beigu got out of the car and personally took some pastries stored in the car for her.

"A sin."

Cui Taifu got off the mule cart at some point, walked to Lu Beigu's side, and sighed heavily.

“Last year, the dikes breached, and the farmland and homes of the people of Chanzhou who were lucky enough to survive were completely destroyed. The government’s relief was limited. They barely made it through the winter, and now there is another famine in the spring. What other way can they survive except by selling their children? Most of those heading south are trying to find a way to make a living in the capital.”

Lu Beigu remained silent, as if a huge rock was lodged in his chest.

The historical records' understated description of "the river breaching its banks, drowning tens of thousands of people" has now become a stark reminder of the tragic scene before our eyes.

After giving away almost all the dry rations they carried, the convoy, with no food left to distribute, finally set off again, leaving the cries along the way behind.

On the evening of the fourth day, they spotted the city walls of Puyang, the capital of Chanzhou.

Puyang was a strategically important military town, with imposing city walls and strict defenses.

The judge of Chanzhou was already waiting at the city gate. After verifying the official documents, he respectfully led them into the city.

Shi Changyan, the prefect of Chanzhou, had already received the news and led a group of officials from the prefectural government to wait for him in front of the government office.

He succeeded Li Zhang, the former prefect of Chanzhou and commander of the river repair team, who was one of the main people in charge of the Liutahe case and has now been exiled.

Shi Changyan's main task was to do his best to clean up this mess.

He clearly knew why the Censorate and the Ministry of Justice had jointly sent representatives, so he was extremely cautious in his words and actions.

"Imperial Censor Lu and Minister Cui have had a long and arduous journey."

Upon meeting, Shi Changyan spoke very politely, his voice slightly hoarse.

After exchanging greetings, Lu Beigu got straight to the point: "Prefect Shi, we are here on imperial orders to investigate the matters related to the rumors, and we will need to stay in Chanzhou for a while. We are afraid that we will be a great inconvenience to you."

"Imperial Censor Lu is too kind."

Shi Changyan turned to the side and said, "The young master has prepared a simple banquet to welcome you both. Please."

As dusk settled, the back hall of the Chanzhou prefectural government office was brightly lit.

More than a dozen dining tables were arranged in order, with silver candlesticks, wine jugs, and warming bowls gleaming in the candlelight.

Prefect Shi Changyan personally accompanied them and invited Lu Beigu and Cui Taifu to the table.

"I have only a few local vegetables and wild game to express my feelings. Please don't take offense."

Although the words were humble, the dishes that were served one after another were clearly prepared with care. First came a number of exquisite dishes for display, as well as cold dishes, followed by hot dishes.

There's "Meat-Pickled Melon," made by shredding fresh melon strips and stir-frying them with shredded cooked mutton and ginger, then drizzling with sauce for a savory and flavorful taste; "Shrimp and Mushroom Soup," made by simmering freshly caught shrimp and freshly harvested mushrooms together to make a soup, thickened with a light cornstarch slurry, and sprinkled with chopped cilantro for an extremely delicious flavor; "Braised Meat," which involves simmering carefully selected lamb belly over low heat until the meat is tender and falls off the bone, resulting in a thick broth; and "Stir-Fried Rabbit," made with plump and tender wild rabbits in spring, where the rabbit meat is cut into chunks and stir-fried quickly with scallions, ginger, and other ingredients for a fresh and delicious taste.

Then, Shih Chang-yen clapped his hands to signal that the main dish was about to be served.

Two strong servants steadily lifted a huge silver platter, lifted the lid, and on the platter lay a Yellow River carp that was at least two feet long and weighed nearly twenty pounds.

The fish was perfectly shaped and had a bright red color. It was covered in a thick, amber-colored sauce made with vinegar, sugar, ginger, garlic, and spices, indicating that it had just been cooked. As soon as the lid was lifted, a sweet and sour aroma filled the room.

The most striking feature is the fish's body, which is covered with a layer of fine, hair-like batter fried to a golden brown, as if the carp were draped in a golden robe.

“Imperial Censor Lu, Cui Xiangyi, this is ‘Carp with Noodles’ prepared using the ancient method in Puyang.”

Shi Changyan personally took the chopsticks and gestured, introducing: "The method involves taking live carp from the Yellow River, first roasting it in oil to set its shape, then simmering it in a secret broth over low heat to infuse it with flavor. The roasted noodles are the real skill, requiring the dough to be repeatedly stretched into countless strands before being lightly fried in oil, ensuring it is crispy but not burnt. When eating, the roasted noodles can be dipped in the sauce or enjoyed with the fish. It combines crispiness and tenderness, making it a local specialty."

"You two have come from afar, please enjoy some local flavors to relieve your fatigue," said the judge of Chanzhou, who was standing nearby.

The officials in the hall immediately echoed in unison, their voices a jumbled mess.

Lu Beigu's gaze swept over the beautifully crafted carp, but he couldn't help but recall the tragic scene of starving people and children being sold along the official road during the day. The silver chopsticks in his hand felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

Cui Taifu seemed to sense something and hurriedly spoke first, somewhat unconventionally, saying, "Prefect Shi is very kind, but we have important responsibilities and such expense is really too much for us."

Shi Changyan waved his hand and laughed, "The two imperial envoys have come to investigate on behalf of the court. If we can't even provide a decent meal, wouldn't it make Chanzhou seem neglectful? Besides, this carp is a local product. We are just doing our duty as hosts."

Just then, Lu Beigu slowly put down his chopsticks, the silver chopsticks striking the porcelain plate with a crisp "clang".

His gaze fell upon Shi Changyan, who sat at the head of the table, and his words broke the barely warm atmosphere of the gathering.

"Prefect Shi's hospitality is truly admirable; this braised carp with noodles is indeed a delicacy, but..."

Lu Beigu paused briefly, looked around at the delicacies spread across the table, and said in a deep voice, "As we traveled from Huazhou into Chanzhou, we saw fields lying fallow and villages in ruins. Many refugees were blocking the roads, some barely clothed and pale. Some people even had to sell their children to get a few bushels of rice. Their pitiful state was unbearable to witness. This is all the lingering disaster caused by the Yellow River breach last year."

“I have heard the saying, ‘The kitchen is full of fat meat, the stable is full of fat horses, the people look hungry, and the fields are full of starving corpses. This is like leading beasts to devour people.’ Today, seeing this feast, and thinking of the suffering of the people I have seen along the way, I am truly uneasy. I cannot eat this fish!”

"Moreover, although it is not my duty to look after people's livelihoods on this trip, I still can't help but ask Prefect Shi—do you know how many people in Chanzhou are like this, whose homes have been destroyed and who have no means of livelihood due to the river's breach? How is the prefectural government handling the relief, compensation, and resettlement of displaced people now?"

The atmosphere in the hall suddenly froze.

The previous clamor and laughter abruptly ceased, and all the officials lowered their heads and composed themselves.

The flickering candlelight made Shi Changyan's smile appear somewhat stiff.

"What Imperial Censor Lu saw was indeed the truth."

He tightened his grip on the wine glass slightly, hesitated for a moment, then sighed deeply and answered in a heavy tone.

"As everyone knows, the Liuta River breached its banks last year, and Chanzhou suffered the most severe damage. The number of people who drowned, froze, or starved to death was already in the tens of thousands, according to the initial statistics of the prefectural government at the time. Since I succeeded Li Zhang as the prefect of Chanzhou, I have been worried day and night, and have never forgotten the suffering of the people. Although the prefectural government has done its best to provide disaster relief, most of the fields have been destroyed. This spring, there is a shortage of food, and the people are in dire straits. The prefectural government has neither manpower nor funds. What can we do?"

The judge beside him also put down his wine cup and said earnestly, “Imperial Censor Lu may not know this, but after last year’s disaster, although the court allocated some money and grain, it was just a drop in the ocean. Moreover, the state treasury was also depleted due to disaster relief and repairs to the city walls. At present, we can only set up a few soup kitchens in the state capital and various counties, distributing soup twice a day to alleviate the hunger. As for helping people resume farming and rebuilding houses, it is difficult to carry out such matters on a large scale without the court’s special funds, grain and manpower support.”

Hearing the judge's words, Shi Changyan tilted his head back and drank the wine in his cup in one gulp, saying with some bitterness.

"To be honest, the reason I went to such lengths to host this banquet for Imperial Censor Lu was that I thought if you two enjoyed your meal, I would then be able to make a request."

Lu Beigu frowned slightly, but still said, "Prefect Shi, please speak freely."

Shi Changyan refilled his wine cup and raised it to Lu Beigu, saying, "It is certainly important that Imperial Censor Lu is here to investigate on imperial orders. However, if upon returning to the capital, you can also truthfully report the plight of the people of Chanzhou to the Emperor and urge the court to provide assistance as soon as possible, then the people of Chanzhou will be fortunate, and I will be eternally grateful."

After listening, Lu Beigu remained silent for a moment.

It is true that the officials in Chanzhou were inactive, but it is also likely true that the prefecture itself had difficulty providing disaster relief.

Being overly critical of the other party will not solve anything and may even prevent us from getting the full support of the Chanzhou local government during the investigation, which is not a wise move.

Lu Beigu raised his cup in return and said in a deep voice, "Prefect Shi, rest assured, although I have come under orders, I must prioritize the people's suffering. However, this investigation must be conducted to obtain the truth before I can report back to the capital. Therefore, I hope that the prefectural government can fully cooperate."

"It's natural."

Shi Changyan quickly stated, "The entire prefectural government will fully cooperate with Censor Lu and Secretary Cui in investigating this matter."

(End of this chapter)