Chapter Four: The Product Launch

As soon as he returned to the courtyard, Daniu and Maozi came back, pushing a wheelbarrow loaded with several large stones. After letting them rest for a bit, he sent them out for two more trips. Meanwhile, he infused his sword with spiritual energy and began to carve the stones—cutting, digging holes, making grooves. Soon, three small millstones were finished, perfectly sized for individual use. The local diet consisted mostly of coarse grains, and the flour was very rough; he was merely refining it a little, making it finer.

After Daniu and Maozi made two more trips, Yang Cheng had completed nine stone mills and was helping arrange them. Old Yang, accompanied by the six women, returned in pairs, pushing carts laden with their purchases. Three carts were filled to the brim. Wheat was common here and not expensive—just five silver coins for about a hundred jin. Wild beast meat was pricier, especially for the premium pork belly cuts; a hundred jin cost two spirit coins and seventy silver coins. Vegetables, on the other hand, were so cheap that, together with various spices like scallions and ginger, the total came to just over eighty silver coins.

After instructing everyone to sort the goods, he personally demonstrated how to mill the flour, and then directed everyone to start grinding. They worked until dusk, then added fermentation aids to the dough, kneaded it well, and left it in the kitchen to rise. Then he had everyone start preparing dinner.

At dinner, Yang Cheng addressed the group: “After the meal, take a brief rest. Tonight, I’ll need everyone’s help to work a bit more—we’ll need more for tomorrow.”

“Yes, young master, we’ll do as you say. It’s no trouble at all,” Daniu replied gruffly between bites.

“That’s right, it’s no trouble,” the others echoed.

That night, oil lamps were lit throughout the Yang residence, filling the courtyard with warm light. After everyone had rested, Yang Cheng assigned two people to continue grinding flour, then sent Old Yang and two others to wash and mince the meat and vegetables. He personally demonstrated kneading dough and rolling skins to the remaining four.

Once all the preparations were complete, Yang Cheng brought out two large tables and had everyone gather around. He demonstrated making dumplings—filling, folding, pleating—and after a few demonstrations, let everyone try. Once their dumplings were cohesive and pleasing to the eye, he had everyone work together, continuing late into the night. By midnight, trays of dumplings were lined up in the kitchen on clean wooden boards.

Before resting, he personally steamed a batch in a large bamboo steamer he’d made long ago in idle moments, serving them to everyone.

Everyone was full of praise. Not only did these dumplings look appealing, they tasted delicious—far better than the coarse grains they were used to. Even Old Yang was surprised; he’d raised the young master since childhood, but never knew where he’d learned such a skill.

Yang Cheng was filled with emotion as well. It had been many years since he’d tasted these flavors—each bite was a rush of memories.

After sending everyone to rest, he slipped into the secret chamber to check on the mysterious guest, who was still unconscious, then went to sleep himself.

At dawn, everyone enjoyed a hearty meal of dumplings. He instructed two of the women to steam extra batches, while Old Yang, Daniu, and Maozi were sent out to buy some insulated food boxes. Maozi loaded the boxes full of dumplings onto the wheelbarrow. Then Yang Cheng gave Old Yang and Daniu their instructions.

Old Yang and Daniu exchanged puzzled looks but chose to trust their young master, heading toward the southern district. They deliberately sought out small taverns, where business was usually slow.

Old Yang, carrying a steaming box of dumplings, approached the owner with a flattering smile. “Master Yan, please try these delicacies our young master made, especially brought to honor you.”

Master Yan glanced dismissively at Old Yang, thinking, “I see this old man around often, but I don’t even know his young master’s name. Honor me?”

But as Old Yang drew near and opened the box, Yan’s eyes lit up—these crescent-shaped dumplings, white and neat, looked quite appetizing.

He picked up a couple to try, and found them delicious—he couldn’t help but eat another. Old Yang then presented a second box. “Master Yan, the ones you just tasted were meat-filled. Try these with vegetable filling.”

Master Yan was full of praise. With his business sense, he immediately saw the potential and quickly asked, “What are these? They’re far tastier than the rough food we usually have. How much do they cost?”

Old Yang replied, “No rush, Master Zhu. Our young master invites you to the Yang residence tomorrow for our product launch. There’ll be more surprises waiting for you.”

“Product launch? What’s that supposed to be?”

“I’m not sure myself. The young master just said that you’ll see more delicious foods if you come.” Old Yang scratched his head in embarrassment. “Here, this box is for you—share it with your customers. We’ll be honored to have you tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, I’ll be there. Uh, which Yang family is it?”

Old Yang laughed awkwardly. There were countless Yang families in the southern city, and his own house was so obscure few knew it. “Just turn right at the main street and...”

“Don’t forget to come!”

Master Yan, staring at the box, couldn’t bear to eat it himself. He shared a few with his customers to see their reactions, confirming his suspicions when they, too, praised the taste. With his tavern so quiet, he thought: if I could sell these here, I’d draw much more business. I’ll go tomorrow—if I can buy them, good; if not, maybe I can figure out how to make them myself.

After visiting a few establishments, Old Yang and Daniu split up. Their task was to visit seventy or eighty taverns in the southern district. With the district’s population in the millions, who knew how many taverns there were? The young master had instructed them to give away all the dumplings for sampling—a free giveaway, which made them uneasy, but his orders had to be followed.

Meanwhile, Yang Cheng stayed home with the women, working on buns and noodles.

The next morning, the courtyard gates were thrown wide.

The Yang family courtyard was filled with cushions borrowed from neighboring households. In front stood a low table draped with red cloth, next to three large kettles of boiling water, and a long wooden board lined with small bowls.

Soon, many of the invited tavern owners arrived. Old Yang and the others had already been dispatched to the eastern city district; the women were left to greet the guests. By Yang Cheng’s instruction, they would do this for four consecutive days, one district per day.

Though Yang Cheng had only asked Old Yang to visit seventy taverns, their thoroughness meant they’d approached nearly a hundred.

After waiting a while, Yang Cheng judged that most had arrived—the courtyard was packed. Aside from those who scorned the invitation, over sixty had come. Seeing so many people standing and sitting, Yang Cheng felt a bit nervous; he’d done this sort of thing before, but wasn’t sure how it would be received here. Still, it was just promotion, sales, and limited-time offers.

Among the crowd, a rotund, jovial man caught Yang Cheng’s eye. Plump-faced and smiling, he seemed to radiate good fortune. As soon as he sat on a cushion, he became the center of attention, with many tavern owners gathering around him to chat.

Seeing the crowd, Yang Cheng thought the place was too small—next time, he’d need a bigger venue for such events.

Clearing his throat, Yang Cheng called out, “Everyone, may I have your attention, please?”

Instantly, the noisy courtyard fell silent. “Young Master Yang, what’s this product launch all about? We’ve been waiting here for ages. I just want to know: how much are those dumplings we tasted yesterday, and can you supply my tavern?” asked Liu, the owner of Gathering Guests Tavern.

“Yes, yes, just tell us straight—can you sell them? I’ve got plenty to do back at my place,” echoed Li, owner of Welcome Inn.

“No need to rush,” Yang Cheng replied, “I’ll just take a little of your time. Since you’re here, let me first offer you something interesting to eat. We’ll discuss business after—rest assured, you’ll be satisfied with my answer.” He signaled to the women.

Following his instructions from the day before, the women got to work in front of the guests. They dropped pale, thread-like noodles into the boiling pots, stirred them, then served them into small bowls. They added seasoning, sprinkled scallions and chili powder, then poured sizzling hot beast fat over the noodles—the aroma immediately filled the air.

A loud gulp sounded from someone in the crowd; no one laughed, as everyone swallowed their saliva in anticipation.

Over sixty bowls of oil-splashed noodles were distributed. Following the women’s instructions, everyone mixed the noodles and began to eat.

“Wonderful—so satisfyingly spicy!” exclaimed the plump man, finishing his small bowl in just a few bites. “Young Master Yang, this is delicious, but you’re a bit stingy with the portions.”

The crowd laughed.

Spicy and fragrant—it was indeed a treat, if only there had been more. Everyone ate with regret at the small serving.

Yang Cheng said nothing, observing their reactions. He’d intentionally used small bowls so people wouldn’t be full—leaving them wanting to try more.

Meanwhile, the women kept busy—more noodles, more bowls. This time, they ladled over beast bone broth that had simmered all night, topped with slices of tender meat and fragrant greens. The bowls of meat noodle soup were passed out. Soon, the courtyard was filled with the sound of slurping, followed by satisfied sighs.

“Mmm, smooth and tender—delicious,” someone praised.

“The color is so fresh and white—looks great too,” another remarked.

The crowd buzzed with admiration.

Yang Cheng clapped his hands for attention. “All right, everyone. You’ve just tasted oil-splashed noodles and shredded meat noodles. There are many other ways to enjoy these noodles, and we’ll demonstrate more in a moment. I trust you all tried the dumplings we sent yesterday—today, we’ll serve them in a different style.”

Two of the women poured a layer of fat into a large pan, heated it, and arranged dumplings in a neat layer. As the oil sizzled, the aroma of frying filled the air. Once the bottoms turned golden, they added a bit of water, covered the pan, and waited. After a few turns with the spatula, golden-bottomed dumplings were soon served to the guests.