General Tie Zhan was in a fantastic mood.
He had just stood guard at the Grand Opening of the Dry-Well Department Store for four hours without a single rich merchant’s wife daring to cut in line. As a reward, Old Guo had given him a special brown-paper bag containing four extra-large Rank 4 Furnace-Blood Braised Pork & Scallion Buns, fresh out of the top-floor steamer.
Even through the thick oiled paper, the rich, savory aroma of slow-simmered pork belly fat, star anise, and sweet spirit-well broth made Tie Zhan’s stomach rumble like distant thunder.
“Wait until I get back to my tent and pour a saucer of aged black vinegar,” Tie Zhan muttered happily, his mouth watering as his heavy iron boots thudded against the clean cement sidewalk. “Four buns, one pot of hot tea, and then two hours of night-shift spear drills with the boys. What a life!”
He had barely taken ten steps past the corner of the military barracks when a figure in flowing red silk stepped out from behind a trimmed desert-willow tree and blocked his path.
“Oh my! My ankle!”
With a soft, pitiful gasp, Madame Red-Silk pretended to twist her embroidered silk shoe on the flat pavement. She swayed gracefully like a flower in the wind, letting her white face-veil slip down just enough to reveal her glossy red lips and the tiny beauty mark beneath her left eye.
