The Immortal’s Abode, like most of the reputable taverns and restaurants in the capital, only opens its doors around noon. Once it does, guests quickly flood in.
Besides dining and drinking, the establishment also serves as a place for business transactions and gatherings of friends.
It was just past noon when three or four people stepped into the Immortal’s Abode, only to be informed by the waiter that there were no empty seats available.
“There are private rooms available. Would you like one?” The waiter asked with a smile.
Private rooms, of course, were more expensive than regular seating. The group exchanged glances, and one of them glanced over at the main hall.
“The seats in the main hall seem to have dwindled again compared to before,” he remarked. “There’s plenty of open space over there—why not set up a few more tables?”
The waiter maintained his cheerful smile.
“That wouldn’t be ideal. People find the smoke bothersome, so it’s better to keep the tables spaced out,” he explained. “If you don’t wish to take a private room, you could wait a short while and return later.”
Hearing this, the four had no choice but to step back outside.
“‘Afraid of the smoke’?” one of them shook his head and said. “It’s obvious they’re doing this on purpose, forcing people to take private rooms.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. It’s a popular place, after all,” another replied, rubbing his hands together while glancing around the street. “So what now? Where should we eat?”
“We came here for ‘Passing Immortal’—since we can’t eat here, it doesn’t matter where we grab a quick bite,” someone else said.
This street was lined with restaurants, one after another. The group casually stepped into one and took their seats. Just as they were about to order food and wine, they overheard what seemed to be a dispute at the neighboring table.
“…Ah, how can you be so foolish? All you need is a heat source—whether it’s a charcoal brazier or a warming clay stove, as long as it can keep things hot, it’ll do. Then, just place a pot on top—a clay pot or a sand pot, either works. The key is to remember to use bone broth…”
“Sir, what kind of dish is this?”
“This is the ‘eat-as-you-please’ method! Now hurry, go fetch the ingredients!”
The commotion drew the attention of everyone in the hall. When the waiter finally brought over the requested items as instructed, the onlookers were even more astonished.
“I’ll have another handful of greens and a chicken—just chop it up for me,” the man said.
Though helpless, the waiter had no choice but to comply.
“How exactly do you eat this?” someone nearby couldn’t help but ask.
At the table sat two diners facing each other, both dressed in elegant scholar’s robes, their movements refined and cultured—though their way of eating…
One of them, after washing his hands, tore apart a bunch of greens with a couple of quick pulls and tossed them into the small clay pot. The other dumped in an entire plate of chicken.
“You just eat like this—add whatever you like, however you like. That’s why it’s called the ‘eat-as-you-please’ method,” one of the scholars said with a smile.
“This… isn’t it just like the ‘Passing Immortal’ at the Immortal’s Abode?” a man watching from the side couldn’t help but remark.
“Immortals? That’s food for immortals. What I’m making is for ordinary folks—no need for so many rules, just do as you please,” the scholar said with a smile. As he spoke, he glanced around the table, picked up a cup of wine, and poured it into the pot.
The bone broth bubbled instantly, its rich aroma blending with the scent of the wine.
The scholar sitting across from him burst into laughter.
“Last time, Liuquan even added Sichuan pepper sauce—his mouth swelled for two days, yet he still called it a thrill,” he said. “Now that you’re adding wine, I wonder if we’ll end up drunk without even drinking.”
Their laughter, along with the enticing fragrance, drew the attention of the entire hall. People whispered among themselves, exchanging curious glances, until all eyes eventually settled on the boiling pot.
“Waiter,” one of the four who had just left the Immortal’s Abode turned to the server and said, “Bring us one of these as well.”
The waiter was momentarily stunned, letting out an “Ah?” in surprise.
With them taking the lead, others in the hall also began placing the same order.
“Yes, yes, just as a side dish to enjoy—some greens, a pot of broth, a chicken or a duck, how much could that even cost?” The scholar chuckled, lifting his chopsticks. “Listen, waiter, don’t you go overcharging us. Over at Tai Ping Residence, they’re honest folk—broth and vegetables are free; they only charge for the raw meat.”
That truly wouldn’t cost much at all.
The crowd erupted in chatter, voices overlapping in excitement. The commotion had already drawn the attention of the manager, who had come over smiling, though his eyes flickered with keen interest upon hearing the exchange.
“Sir, are you saying that this dish is served elsewhere?” he asked with a smile.
“Indeed! Outside the city, at Tai Ping Residence. Though, to be precise, they don’t actually serve it—it started when a guest, too hungry to wait, made it themselves. Tai Ping Residence doesn’t prepare it; they simply provide whatever ingredients people ask for. The fun of it lies in making it yourself—however you cook it, that’s how it turns out. Delicious or terrible, it’s all part of the experience,” the scholar explained with a grin.
“Now that spring is here, one could even take it on an outing,” another scholar added, swaying his head thoughtfully. He raised his cup and downed the wine in one go, as if he were already picturing the scene. “Out in the wild, the earth as your seat, a handful of fresh greens, a freshly hunted game, and a jug of wine—that is true refinement.”
The manager, still smiling, turned to give orders to the waiters.
“Go, serve our guests,” he said, then nodded warmly at everyone. “Naturally, we won’t charge for it. A handful of greens and a pot of broth—our establishment will provide those as a courtesy. As for the meat, if you want it raw, we’ll charge the raw ingredient price, as it should be.”
At these words, the diners cheered. Even those who hadn’t originally intended to order the dish changed their minds—after all, it cost little and promised an enjoyable experience.
An experience of ‘eating as you please.’
The manager turned away, a faint smile on his lips, his expression thoughtful. Standing behind the counter, he cast a sidelong glance outside—there, the grand, colorful façade of the Immortal’s Abode loomed in the distance.
He turned back to survey his own hall. The waiters moved swiftly, setting up charcoal stoves at each table one by one. As more pots were placed, a light haze of steam and smoke began to rise, softening the air within the tavern.
The method was simple—just a pot and a fire. The key was that it cost next to nothing.
Those without money cared about the price. Those with money never minded spending a little more.
He wondered whether the first person to introduce this way of eating had done so unintentionally or with a purpose in mind. If it had been unintentional, then they were simply a carefree soul. But if it had been deliberate…
It seemed that the Immortal’s Abode had truly met a formidable opponent.
The smile on the manager’s lips grew wider as he once again looked outside, his gaze resting on the fluttering banners of the Immortal’s Abode.
With a long sigh, he stretched out his words as if speaking to himself, “What joy is there in being an immortal? A carefree life is the most unburdened of all.”
A few drunken guests, swaying as they supported one another on their way out, happened to overhear him. One of them, eyes hazy with intoxication, turned to look at him.
“Sir, that little verse is well sung,” he said, repeating the line to himself before slamming his hand on the counter, his breath thick with alcohol. “What joy is there in being an immortal? A carefree life is the most unburdened of all! Well said!”
The manager burst into hearty laughter and stepped forward to support the staggering man.
“Sir, you have sung it well,” he replied with a grin.
The drunken men chuckled and staggered out the door, their laughter spilling into the night.
“…What joy is there in being an immortal… A carefree life is the most unburdened of all…”
Their drunken voices rose and fell, the tune drifting down the street, breaking apart and coming together again in the night air.
Madam Qin smiled gently as she looked at her son, Young Master Qin, who had just taken his seat.
“Why didn’t you go out to play today?” she said. “The spring weather is perfect.”
Young Master Qin looked at his mother.
“Mother, I’m already sixteen, not a little child anymore,” he said with a helpless smile. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”
It was as if, in the next moment, she might reach out to pat his head and ask whether his finished his meal.
Madam Qin continued to smile gently.
“Yes, yes, you have grown up,” she said, laughing at the maids kneeling beside her.
“Mother, I’ve grown up. You said so yourself—let me do as I please with everything,” Young Master Qin said. “So, is my marriage part of that?”
Madam Qin raised her sleeve to cover her mouth, tilting her head as she squinted her eyes and smiled at the maids.
“Uh-oh, someone must have complained,” she laughed.
The maids didn’t dare join in the laughter, looking a bit helpless.
“Madam, please listen properly to Shi’san-lang, don’t interrupt,” they said.
Madam Qin laughed even more.
“See? Everyone is on your side,” she said with a smile.
Young Master Qin looked at her without smiling.
Madam Qin immediately stopped smiling.
“Then, what did Lady Cheng say to you? Was she scolding you?” she asked, leaning in with a hint of curiosity. “Did she say you shouldn’t repay her with youself?”
Young Master Qin rolled his eyes helplessly.
“Do you even need to ask that?” he said. “Mother, stop teasing me.”
Madam Qin straightened up, still smiling.
“I just want to help you,” she said.
“Mother, I’ll handle it myself,” Young Master Qin replied. “Right now, she’s still upset. If we act like this, it’ll only make her more angry. Besides, both of us have no intention of going down that path.”
Madam Qin let out an “Oh” and seemed slightly displeased.
“Is she really that good? How come she’s looking down on our family?” she said.
“Mother, which one is more important- me or how others think of me?” Young Master Qin asked.
Madam Qin quickly forced a smile.
“Of course, you are the most important. What others think doesn’t concern us,” she said.
“Since that’s the case, you should be happy for me,” Young Master Qin said.
“I have always been happy for you,” Madam Qin immediately replied.
Young Master Qin smiled and nodded at his mother.
“Isn’t that so, Mother?” he suddenly said.
Madam Qin looked puzzled.
“Why do you say that, my son?” she asked.
Young Master Qin sighed softly, his gaze drifting toward the door.
“That Lady Cheng’s mother knew her child was born foolish, yet still couldn’t bear to let her die. Mother, you know I’m disabled, yet you’ve never turned me away,” he said in a low voice. “In your eyes, someone like me, with all my flaws, is still treated like a precious gem, isn’t it?”
Madam Qin’s nose tinged with the scent of tears, and she almost cried.
“Of course,” she straightened her back, “The children I’ve raised are treasures of the world.”
With that, she sighed again, looking at Young Master Qin.
“Enough, I won’t blame that young lady. You don’t need to make excuses for her,” she said.
“I speak from the heart,” Young Master Qin replied sincerely.
“Words from the heart are never without reason,” Madam Qin smiled and said. “My son, you’ve been sparring with me in wit since you were three. Now that you’re sixteen, I should have improved a bit as well.”
Young Master Qin laughed heartily, and the maids, without hesitation, joined in the laughter as well.
“She refused, didn’t she?” Madam Qin asked.
“That’s why I said you should be happy for me,” Young Master Qin replied with a smile.
“Then, does that mean Lady Cheng is so unattractive that you’d rather not treat your leg and spend your life with her?” Madam Qin asked with a teasing smile.
“Mother, please don’t change the subject,” Young Master Qin said helplessly.
Madam Qin chuckled and fell silent, still smiling.
“The doctor does not treat herself,” Young Master Qin said. “If she agrees to marry me, it means she won’t treat my leg.”
“How could that be?” Madam Qin shook her head in disbelief.
“Because marriage isn’t about forcing gratitude,” Young Master Qin explained. “She’s treating my leg because of marriage. To me, this feels like being coerced. I’m marrying her because of my leg, and to her, it’s the same. If she treats me, we will think it’s only natural. If she doesn’t, it will breed resentment. Whether my leg heals or not, we will have lingering bitterness. We would become a pair of resentful spouses, and the household would never be peaceful. So, how can there be any joy in that?”
Madam Qin and the maids were left stunned, exchanging glances.
“I see,” she said, nodding thoughtfully.
“Now that she doesn’t agree to the marriage, I still have a chance for treatment,” Young Master Qin said with a smile. “I can either move her with emotion or persuade her with reason. She treats and heals, I pay with gratitude. There’s benefit and favor for both sides. Isn’t that the best option for me?”
Madam Qin nodded and let out another thoughtful “Oh,” as if suddenly understanding.
“Then let this marriage be,” she said briskly, turning to look at the maids. “Go to the Zhou family and explain—first, we were too abrupt. Then, we had Master Minghai look into it. Shi’san should not marry too early, and we don’t want to delay Lady Cheng. We’ll talk about it again in the future.”
The maids responded in agreement.
Young Master Qin smiled and thanked her before preparing to leave. Just as he reached the door, Madam Qin called him back.
“You almost confused me again with all this talk,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Actually, it’s that Lady Cheng doesn’t find you attractive, right?”
