Republic of China, 1928: Starting from a Wonton Shop

"Is it really that delicious?" Feng Gengguang found it amusing and picked up a piece to try.

It didn't matter if it wasn't worth it, but after trying it, Feng Gengguang's smile froze, then turned into surprise.

"Excellent! Absolutely excellent!" Feng Gengguang slapped his thigh. "It's been so long since I've had such delicious braised pork. It seems Mr. Situ wasn't exaggerating."

"You flatter me, gentlemen. It's just a simple home-cooked meal. It's my good fortune that it's appreciated by such distinguished guests."

"Home-style cooking?" Stuart put down his chopsticks, looked thoughtfully at the bowl of meat, then at Mei Lanfang, and suddenly said, "Mei, I'm thinking, if we really want to go to America, besides your Peking Opera, wouldn't Chinese food culture also be a bridge?"

Upon hearing this, Li Chunsheng sighed inwardly.

really!

The air in the room seemed to freeze as soon as Stuart said those words.

Mei Lanfang put down his teacup. His eyes, which usually sparkled with charm, now showed a hint of seriousness. He glanced at Feng Gengguang, then at Stuart, and finally his gaze swept over Li Chunsheng, who was standing to the side.

Logically speaking, such core secrets should not be discussed in front of outsiders.

But perhaps the braised pork was too delicious tonight, or perhaps Li Chunsheng's knowing attitude earlier had earned him some trust, or perhaps Stuart and Feng Gengguang were in high spirits at the moment, the three of them did not immediately ask Li Chunsheng to leave.

"What does Mr. Situ mean?" Feng Gengguang, after all, was a business tycoon, and he keenly caught the implied meaning in Situ's words.

"Mr. Feng, Mr. Mei." Stuart adjusted his glasses. "We have been preparing for our visit to the United States for years. Funding, repertoire, and personnel are all almost ready. But recently I have been thinking about a problem: cultural barriers."

He pointed to the snow falling outside the window: "Most Americans have never heard of Peking Opera, or even seen real Chinese art. In their minds, China is backward, or even somewhat strange. It will be very difficult for us to bring Peking Opera to them and get them to accept and even appreciate it."

Feng Gengguang frowned and said in a deep voice, "This is exactly what I'm worried about. If we go there with all our might, the foreigners in the audience won't understand or comprehend what we've learned..."

"So, we need bridges." Stuart's gaze fell on the bowl of braised pork. "Not just in art, but in life. Americans are people too; they have taste buds and aspirations for beauty. Take this braised pork, for example. Although it's made in a Chinese style and uses Chinese seasonings, that deliciousness is universal."

"If, while promoting Peking Opera, we can also make Americans realize that China not only has ancient operas but also such an exquisite and ingenious culinary culture, wouldn't that spark their greater interest in Chinese civilization and make them more willing to try and understand Peking Opera?"

Stuart's words were very insightful.

This is a typical approach to cultural diplomacy, using easily accepted cultural elements to break down hard barriers of prejudice.

Mei Lanfang listened intently, "Mr. Situ is right. Art originates from life."

Li Chunsheng, who had been silent all along, was in turmoil at this moment.

He knows this history all too well.

Mei Lanfang's visit to the United States was a remarkable achievement in 20th-century Chinese cultural history, but at the time, it was a huge gamble.

They faced enormous economic and public pressure for this trip. At the time, many people in China were not optimistic, believing that foreigners simply could not understand Peking Opera.

As it turned out, Mei Lanfang succeeded. He not only won over American audiences, earning honorary doctorates from Pomona College and the University of Southern California, but also allowed the world to truly appreciate the charm of Chinese opera for the first time.

But the process was so arduous that outsiders could hardly imagine it.

"Boss Li."

Suddenly, Stuart turned to Li Chunsheng. "You've been listening for a while, and I've noticed your expression changing, as if you're deep in thought. I'd like to hear your opinion on this matter, as... well, as a folk gourmet."

Li Chunsheng was taken aback, not expecting to be called out by name so suddenly.

Li Chunsheng cupped his hands in greeting. "I'm just a cook. I don't understand any grand principles or Western customs, but in my opinion, many principles in this world are universally applicable."

He pointed to the bowl of braised pork.

"Take this bowl of meat for example. If you were to serve it directly to a foreigner who has never eaten Chinese food and tell him that it is fatty pork from the pig's belly, he might find it greasy, disgusting, or even dare not pick up his chopsticks."

Stuart nodded, signaling him to continue.

"But if we tell him that it is made with twenty kinds of spices and simmered over a low flame for three hours to extract the oil, leaving only collagen, with an amber color and a pudding-like texture," Li Chunsheng used a modern adjective, "then he might become curious and be willing to try a bite."

"Once he takes the first bite, he will be captivated by the taste. Then, if we tell him about the intricacies behind the dish, the cooking time and temperature, and the Chinese people's pursuit of exquisite food, he will become interested in the person who made the dish, and even the nation as a whole."

Li Chunsheng paused, looking directly at Mei Lanfang: "The same principle applies to Mr. Mei's plays. Foreigners may not understand traditional opera, but they understand aesthetics and emotions. As long as they can experience it for the first time, they will naturally be impressed."

"Great!" Feng Gengguang slapped his thigh, his gaze towards Li Chunsheng changing. He no longer looked at a young cook with some skills, but rather as a promising young talent with some insight. "Wanhua, this young boss is no ordinary person! His insight is far superior to those old fogies in our industry who only know how to nod their heads!"

Mei Lanfang looked at Li Chunsheng with some surprise, as if he were seeing him in a new light.

"Boss Li," Mei Lanfang said gently, "a word from you is worth more than ten years of study. It seems I didn't eat your braised pork for nothing; it not only nourished my stomach but also broadened my horizons."

Stuart was even more pleased. He stood up, walked over to Li Chunsheng, and patted him on the shoulder: "Young man, you have great ideas. If you have the opportunity, I would welcome you to visit Yenching University, or we could need your suggestions on the menu when we form a delegation to the United States."

Li Chunsheng was flattered: "You flatter me, sir."

He knew that Stuart's words were probably just politeness. A delegation of that caliber to the United States would definitely have top-notch chefs, not someone like him who ran a small restaurant.

But he didn't care.

To be able to participate in this discussion about Chinese culture going global at this historic moment, and even to express one's own views, is already a great honor for a time traveler.

"Alright, it's getting late."

Feng Gengguang glanced at his pocket watch, stood up, and said, "Let's not waste any more time here, Mr. Situ. Shall we go to the front hall to discuss the fundraising and preliminary publicity in more detail?"

"Okay." Stuart also stood up and put his scarf back on.

Mei Lanfang escorted the two to the door.

Just before leaving, Feng Gengguang suddenly stopped, looked back at Li Chunsheng, took out a business card from his pocket, and handed it over.

"Boss Li, this is my business card. If you encounter any difficulties in Beijing in the future, or if you want to expand your business, you can bring this to Xinhua Bank to find me."

This is Feng Gengguang's personal business card!

In this city of Beiping, this thin piece of paper is sometimes more useful than real gold and silver!