I opened a bookstore in ancient times

"After my family's cassia bark left, I didn't think about food and drink, I was in a trance, day and night turned upside down, and I didn't have the heart to write, so I didn't write."

Fu Ling unhurriedly turned over a page of the book, and took Uncle Wu's words very smoothly.

The addition of the word "out" is really not abrupt at all.

Seeing the calm look of the person on the couch, Su Yao couldn't help but feel a little funny in his heart.

It seems that authors from all over the world dare to say anything in order to avoid updates.

The smell of agarwood in the room was sweet, and the naive big orange was still lying at Su Yao's feet and licking his fur claws, almost "being" hanged up just now without realizing it.

Cats are such a good excuse.

No wonder the author loves cats.

Su Yao just pretended to be unaware: "So there is such a thing. Mr. Fu's cassia bark is so beautiful, it's a pity to lose it, but fortunately, it's back now - it seems that it will take some time to come back, and it's so beautiful. So strong."

The robust big orange "meowed".

Uncle Wu forced a polite smile.

The person on the couch looked motionless.

Seeing that he didn't answer, Su Yao continued to ask: "But after Guipi came back, the husband didn't write anything, is there something else that delayed it?"

Uncle Wu didn't dare to speak anymore.

There was silence in the room for a while, and Fu Ling said casually: "It's cold, the ink won't melt, so I can't write."

Well, it's the ballpoint pen that can't finish the homework.

Students often use excuses.

"It's true that it snowed heavily for a few days in the twelfth lunar month, and it was very cold." Su Yao nodded and said with a smile, "But the weather is beautiful, and it will be sunny from the first day, and it will catch up with the early spring, and it will be warmer after the next year." Not much. Mr. Fu's ink is not good?"

Fu Ling didn't look up, but didn't turn the page for a while: "Shops are closed during the New Year's Eve, and there is no paper at home."

Su Yao smiled: "Paper was much more expensive in the old capital last year. It happened that I got some paper from the Fang family in Huizhou. During the Chinese New Year, I specially gave it to my husband as a gift."

"Really?" Fu Ling paused his fingers on the book, and his voice sank immediately, "Uncle Wu, is there such a thing?"

"Hey, it's the old slave who forgot." Uncle Wu hurriedly apologized, "The old slave is old and there are many things during the festival, so I forgot it for a while..."

There is also a backlash.

"It's okay."

Su Yao smiled again, and said slowly, "Now there is paper and ink, and the cats are looking very good. After the first lunar month, there are fewer people welcoming and sending them off. The solar term is good, and it is quiet here, sir. Now, sir, When are you going to start writing?"

Su Yao blocked all his words.

The person on the couch frowned slightly, as if he was a little angry at Su Yao's stalking.

Originally, Su Yao, such a talkative person, didn't want to be like this.

But nowadays, literature and ink are emphasized, and the contacts between bookstores and gentlemen are not just ordinary copper coin transactions because of the bookish atmosphere.

The contract is a piece of paper, all the terms on it are negotiated, the date is divided into proofreading and engraving, and there is absolutely no forced buying and selling.The penalty for breach of contract is just a mutual agreement, and it has not been set at an unreasonable sky-high price.

If Fu Gezi starts this way, in the future, wealthy gentlemen will pay a small sum of money to settle their affairs, and the manuscripts will be perfunctory and late.

Su Yao cheered herself up.

The one on the other side is the one who owes the manuscript, so you can't treat him as a master.

But Su Yao cut off his words. If the old man wants to stay lazy, he can only call him sick.

Su Yao was wondering whether this handsome and handsome face would be so thick, when he saw Fu Ling's frowning brows suddenly relaxed.

There was a slanting wind outside the window, and the sky was a bit gloomy.

The man curled his lips and closed the book: "Unfortunately, Boss Su, I have a toothache and can't write."

Really so cheeky...

Toothache, for good reason.

Su Yao couldn't open his teeth to check if there was any pain.

But the pigeon's next sentence let Su Yao know that his teeth don't hurt at all.

There seemed to be a little rain outside the window, and Fu Ling leaned back on the couch in a leisurely manner: "The wonton skin I ate last night was too thick, which made my teeth ache all night. I'm sorry, Boss Su, I can't write this manuscript, and I can't hand it in."

Su Yao: ...

Su Yao spit out old blood.

Last night's wontons are today's teeth, thank you for being able to speak.

Is this steel wonton?

Although Su Yao is a transmigrated person, the food in this world is clearly not much different from his original world.

Bully who hasn't eaten wonton?

Su Yao, a gourmet lover and cook, expressed disdain for his practice of dumping the pot for wontons.

Su Yao had to sip his tea and forcefully suppressed his stomach to complain.

Isn't it just wonton?

Su Yao pressed his stomach once again, and put out a standard professional smirk: "Mr. Fu likes to eat wontons?"

Fu Ling frowned unobtrusively, as if he was wondering if he was so sloppy, the little boss still didn't leave.

Of course Su Yao couldn't leave.

As a businessman, the one who fights is thick-skinned.

He didn't answer, so Su Yao went on and said: "For wontons, one is the skin, the second is the stuffing, and the third is the soup base. The skin is the thing that touches the mouth, so it's important. If you can't do it right, Most uncomfortable to eat."

Mr. Fu, who is full of words and ink, did not discuss the elegance of wonton with him.

Su Yao smiled to himself: "I know a little bit about wontons. If Mr. Fu likes to eat thin skins, I can make paper-thin wonton skins."

Fu Ling paused when he heard the words: "The skin is as thin as paper?"

Su Yao nodded: "Yes."

Seeing that the conversation was going off track, Uncle Wu was about to stop him, when Fu Ling casually said, "I'm sorry to bother you, Boss Su, I'll let you use the kitchen. It's just right, let me learn a lot."

Uncle Wu is very clear about Fu Ling's character.

From ordinary people in the market, to court officials, and even to royals and nobles, he treated them all according to his temper, and he was never polite to others.

It's not surprising that he can do such a thing as asking the guests to cook for himself.

But Boss Su seemed to be too good-natured, he didn't think he was disobedient at all, and rushed to the kitchen without hesitation.

Uncle Wu made arrangements by the stove, and went out to join Qi Bo: "Hey, your son cooks, why don't you help?"

The rain was falling under the eaves, and Qi Bo had just waited outside with his plum blossoms in his arms. At this moment, he only smiled reassuringly: "My son cooks, so I don't need to make trouble."

"Isn't your son a Juren?" Uncle Wu clicked his tongue twice, "Scholars raised their fingers without touching the sun, and they can cook?"

Qi Bo smiled slightly: "My son knows how to cook since he was a child. He went to Beijing for the exam for more than two years, and he cooks by himself. He has improved a lot."

He said here, and said: "People say that the capital is prosperous, and there is food and drink from all over the world. I think my son has seen the big world. Maybe it's Menggao who taught him that the craftsmanship is so good."

What kind of master can a cook in Beijing be.

Uncle Wu muttered to himself, my family Fu Xiang has scolded every famous restaurant in the capital.

There are still a few good imperial chefs in the palace.

It is impossible for Boss Su, a scholar who has failed to return to his hometown, to have seen the imperial chef.

Uncle Wu made up his mind that this wonton would not catch his son's eyes, so when Su Yao called him, he didn't have any expectations.

But when he lifted the heavy curtain, he was startled.

The room is full of fresh fragrance.

The tables and cases are neatly arranged, clean and not messy at all, only a few traces of movement can be seen.This posture looks like someone who is used to cooking at the stove, and is by no means a novice who can only cook a few dishes.

Su Yao rolled her cuffs, showing her white and slender wrists, and smiled at Uncle Wu: "Your house has all the things, which saved me a lot of effort."

How to put it, Uncle Wu looked at Su Yao's elegant and handsome appearance and stood by the stove, holding a big spoon, without any sense of disobedience.

Even the slightly rising water vapor in the pot made the young scholar look even more lively with red lips and white teeth.

Ah, incense.

Uncle Wu came back to his senses, and looked at the fragrant bowl of wontons.

Because his son's eyes are sharp and his mouth is poisonous, Fu Zhai's pots and pans are more exquisite and beautiful than other people's.

What Su Yao chose was a palm-sized blue and white porcelain cup with a small spoon of the same color, with a lively pattern of koi playing with lotus.

Inside the cup are eight small and exquisite wontons, with ethereal and gauze-like skins, wrapped with a small mouthful of fresh meat filling, only slightly reddish in color, floating in the clear chicken soup with seaweed shrimp skin, like goldfish playing in water .

The fruit skin is as thin as paper.

The paper may not be so thin, the wonton skin is just like a layer of gauze.

The mellow chicken soup, suspended with crushed seaweed and shrimp skin, adds a touch of umami.

The same is true for the filling of pork mixed with fresh diced shrimp, a fresh layer with a mouthful of fragrance, full of taste and not greasy.

The skin is thin, and the stuffing should not be too much. One bite is a whole, fat and lean pork, and there are soft and elastic diced shrimp in it.

Although time is limited, Su Yao is quite satisfied with the finished product.

Uncle Wu was surprised.

For the color and fragrance, Su Yao had to adjust the color again.

He cut some golden shreds of egg skin and put it in the middle, but only pushed a bowl of chopped coriander over: "I don't know if Mr. Fu eats coriander. Order some green, it will be more beautiful."

Although Fu Ling is picky, he is a solid foodie.

There is no such thing as picky eating.

After receiving the instruction, Su Yao simply ordered some coriander.

Well, the little wonton is more like a goldfish in a flower pond.

Su Yao went to clean his hands: "Please trouble Uncle Wu to bring it over."

Uncle Wu hastily left with the little wontons in his hand, being extremely careful.

That is, in old Beijing.

This bowl is placed in the capital, and it is unknown how much it will be sold for.

Boss Su is really a wonderful person.

Some young royal cooks in the palace seem to be inferior to him in their skills.

In fact, the types of food in this world are not much different from where Su Yao came from. There are peppers, potatoes and corn, but some dishes are not as exquisite as Su Yao's.

But even with the exact same recipe, Su Yao can cook it better than others.

After all, Su Yao's original workplace was a time-honored chain of Chinese restaurants, and he served many high-end restaurants.

The choice of ingredients, knife skills, strength of kneading dough, amount of ingredients used, heat, and cooking time are all engraved on the hands.

According to the same recipe, two very different dishes can be made, the difference lies in the chef himself.

Fu Gezi is a master in piano, chess, calligraphy and painting, but Su Yao is an expert in firewood, rice, oil and salt.

Su Yao dried her hands in satisfaction, and followed Uncle Qi to the Nuan Pavilion.

Let's go and watch the pigeons eat.