Chapter Thirty-Three: Su Zuo's Creation

Su Zuozuo, born of a displaced background and lacking in innate talent, harbored a deep-seated sense of inferiority. Because of this, he emphasized the mastery of "fundamental skills" far more than the local Huaiyang pastry chefs, and he focused intensely on training the next generation. In their view, their skills were naturally deficient; only by subjecting their fingers to extreme conditioning from childhood—sometimes from the moment they left the womb—could they ever hope to catch up with local masters who possessed centuries of heritage, and ensure their descendants would not have to hang their heads in shame as they did.

Consequently, Su Zuozuo’s method of finger training was extreme, even deviant. I had heard rumors that if a child of the Su Zuozuo lineage wanted to learn pastry arts, they had to begin by soaking their hands in vinegar from the age of three, then practice the thief’s art of retrieving copper coins from boiling water. Later, they would be taught sleight-of-hand tricks to enhance the absolute dexterity of their fingers. Only once they had mastered these basics would they be taught the craft of making pastries. All of this was merely to hone the flexibility and strength of their fingers. There was no other way; after all, they were the looked-down-upon Su Zuozuo.

Thinking of this, I looked at the coin clutched tightly in Zhao Shuihe’s hand and sneered. Was her uncanny coin-rolling skill not just a basic trick of the trade? She thought she was covering her tracks, but she had only overplayed her hand. Furthermore, I had one more vital piece of evidence to link her to the Su Zuozuo: my knowledge of the history of Zhao Family Mansion. My old squad leader once told me that many of the Zhao clan left the mansion during the Republic of China era, mostly fleeing the chaos of the War of Resistance. Zhao Haikun had also told me that this Huainan branch was a distant relative they had only recently reconnected with. Thus, the historical background of Zhao Shuihe’s lineage likely dated back to the Republican era, which coincided perfectly with the emergence of the Su Zuozuo.

Synthesizing all these clues, I connected everything regarding the Su Zuozuo and Zhao Shuihe. I told her my thoughts: "If you were from Yangzhou, you would speak with a Yangzhou accent; if you were from Huaian, you would use a Huaian dialect. But you speak with a Beijing lilt, clearly intending to hide your origins. You played with that coin to trick me into thinking you were a master from a Yangzhou pastry lineage that values hand strength. The plum-blossom pastries you made were meant to lead me to believe you were a white-case chef from the Huaian school."

Zhao Shuihe listened, pouting, and remained silent.

"You are a cautious girl, deeply guarded against me," I continued with a sigh. "But your 'coin-rolling' was a superfluous act; it precisely exposed your identity. Only the Su Zuozuo tradition emphasizes such extreme, grueling training methods, because they strive to surpass the local Huaiyang schools, and thus focus more heavily on the basics."

"Then how did you know I could make 'steamed buns'?" Zhao Shuihe couldn't help but ask.

I recalled my reasoning. "If you were merely deceiving me from the start, that wouldn't be entirely true. I feel that one thing about you, Zhao Shuihe, is genuine. You didn't lie about it."

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

I nodded slightly. "You said that in the art of pastry, the person you admire most is the Beauty Xiao. That is absolutely true. And it is said that the Beauty Xiao’s specialty was steamed buns. Therefore, you would surely follow in her footsteps and love making them."

My answer left Zhao Shuihe speechless. She bit her lip, tacitly admitting it. Seeing her like this, I chuckled inwardly, knowing I had "guessed" correctly. In truth, I had no idea what her specialty was. But I knew one thing: like all those from the Su Zuozuo background, she carried a sense of inferiority etched into her bones. It was a feeling they would try their hardest to conceal, like a birthmark. Therefore, she would naturally assume that what she made best was the steamed bun, for while it is the simplest pastry, it is also the most difficult to perfect.

To make such a pastry well is one of the greatest tests of a white-case chef’s fundamental skills. The Beauty Xiao’s fame did not come from revolutionary new dishes, but from her invention of the "three-water" and "glutinous-rice" doughs, her theory of using touch, and the fact that her buns and dumplings were "delicate, lovely, and white as snow." That was the pinnacle of the craft!

By saying she could make them, I was, in a roundabout way, "flattering" her. Knowing her pride was as high as the heavens, I knew she would gladly accept the praise. I knew this elevation was the ultimate validation of a Su Zuozuo background—the ultimate affirmation for a white-case chef. She was bound to fall for it.

Sure enough, after I finished, Zhao Shuihe nodded with satisfaction. "Your mouth is sharp, but you have a keen eye. You were right this time; we’ll call it a draw!"

"A draw?!" I was stunned. "That’s not what you said before! You said if I guessed it all before sunset, I would win!"

I cast an urgent glance at Xian Hongye. She was the witness and had to be fair—besides, she was the one who had planted the 'White Food Curse' in me.

Facing Shuihe’s reneging, Hongye also nodded anxiously. "Shuihe, you cannot break your word. Not for the sake of lifting the curse, but for the 'upholding of honor and duty' spirit of the Five Viscera Temple, you cannot go back on your promise!"

Damn! Xian Hongye’s way with words was incredible; as an executive at a state-owned enterprise, she was truly impressive. Her words raised the stakes and gave Zhao Shuihe enough face to retreat gracefully. No one could have resisted that.

Consequently, I piled on, "If you don't lift the curse, you’ll be breaking your promise and failing the Five Viscera Temple. See for yourself what you'll do!"

These words sealed her fate, turning me from a loser into a triumphant victor. Wanting me to kowtow to a young girl and call her 'Grandmaster'? She should look in the mirror! Aside from her chest being larger than mine, where was she better than me? Ha! Hahaha!

Unlike my triumph, Zhao Shuihe, having slapped her own face, was filled with regret, but it was too late. She had set the terms, and she had to honor them. After a moment of internal struggle, she gripped the coin and nodded. "Fine, you win."

"How do I lift the White Food Curse? How do I break the eating incantation?!" I asked eagerly.

Zhao Shuihe’s expression was dismal. She clearly didn't want to help an opportunist like me, but after a moment of thought, she nodded slightly. "Fine! I'll tell you. Actually, the incantation..."

But just as Zhao Shuihe was about to reveal the truth I had been waiting for, an untimely cat’s meow suddenly shattered everything!

The shrill "meow" made the three of us tense up instantly. Zhao Shuihe snapped her head toward the direction of the sound. She stopped speaking, her eyes wide, pointing toward a corner. That direction... was the coffin of my old squad leader.

Following her gesture, I immediately realized what was about to happen. I, too, whipped my head around. The three of us saw it at the same time: atop the squad leader’s coffin, a pure black stray cat stood on the edge, staring intently at my squad leader, staring at his deathly pale face beneath the black bowl.

Looking at that cat, a great, overwhelming terror rose within me. Because, in the vigil of the dead, the most ominous event—the "cat jumping over the corpse"—was about to occur!