The first rays of morning sunlight found Li Wei and Guo Fucheng already on the path winding up the nearest hill, their woven baskets bumping against their hips. Fucheng carried the large granite mortar wrapped in a cloth, while Li Wei carried two smaller knives and a water flask.
"The best spot is just past the old stone fence," Fucheng instructed, his voice low and steady. "It gets morning sun but is shaded from the harsh midday heat. That's where the most fragrant herbs grow."
Li Wei nodded, her mind already shifting from historical theory to practical botany.
"We are not looking for common cooking herbs today, Fucheng. We are looking for aromatics, anything with a sharp, complex scent that can be dried and ground. We need flavor that lingers."
They reached the designated spot, a wild, overgrown patch nestled among rocks and gnarled, ancient trees. While Fucheng set down the mortar and began clearing away some brush, Li Wei dropped to her knees. This was her element. She moved slowly, reverently, her scholar's eye distinguishing subtle shades of green and intricate leaf patterns.
"This is it," she murmured, holding up a cluster of thorny, red-stemmed leaves. "Wild mountain pepper. The smell is sharp, almost citrus, but the core flavor is fire." She knew from her research that this was an ancient precursor to the prized Sichuan pepper.
She also found wild fennel bulbs with feathery leaves, which would provide a hint of sweetness, and a few patches of what looked like a regional variation of star anise, its potent, licorice scent unmistakable.
Fucheng watched her work, marveling at the intense focus on her delicate face. She didn't move like a pampered scholar's daughter; she moved with the efficiency of a seasoned herbalist.
"How do you know these?" he asked, pointing to a patch of dark green leaves that he himself had always avoided, thinking them poisonous.
"I know the shape of the leaf and the history of the root," Li Wei replied, carefully severing the plant near the base. "My family library, before... before everything, had texts detailing local medicinal and culinary uses. This plant ,you dry it, grind it with the mountain pepper, and it draws out the pepper's heat without overpowering it."
He simply smiled, a look of deepening trust in his eyes. "You instruct, Xiu'er, and I will harvest."
For the next two hours, they worked in synchrony. Li Wei identified and described the plant's properties; Fucheng, with his immense strength and familiarity with the land, carefully pulled them up, ensuring the roots remained intact to encourage regrowth. It was a partnership of knowledge and muscle, a perfect division of labor.
Back at the farmhouse, the courtyard was transformed into a temporary drying rack. Li Wei separated the herbs into bundles, meticulously hanging them from the eaves, ensuring air circulated to prevent mold. She then set the stone mortar on a low wooden stump.
"This is the hard work," she announced, picking up the heavy pestle.
She took the dried mountain pepper and added the first secret ingredient: roasted white sesame seeds, purchased at the market. She began to grind them together, the sesame releasing its oily aroma to coat the pepper flakes, which would preserve the spice blend for longer and deepen its nutty flavor.
The heavy pestle was too much for Shen Xiu's weak body. After only a few minutes, sweat beaded on Li Wei's brow, and her arms shook.
Fucheng stepped forward without a word, gently taking the pestle from her hands. "Show me the rhythm, Xiu'er," he said.
He was a man accustomed to rhythmic, back-breaking labor. Under Li Wei's precise instruction"Grind, do not pound! Consistency is everything!"—Fucheng fell into a powerful, even tempo. The granite stones hummed, and the courtyard air became thick with an intoxicating, complex scent: smoky, nutty, peppery, and faintly sweet.
Li Wei added small amounts of the other ingredients: the dried fennel, a pinch of salt she had refined, and a secret, powdered root that would give the mixture a rich, earthy color. They worked together for over an hour, creating three small bowls of the final product a fine, reddish-brown powder unlike anything else sold in the local market.
"This," Li Wei announced, holding up a pinch to the sunlight, "is the Scent of the Daxia Hills. It will sell for triple the price of any common seasoning."
Fucheng looked at the spice, then at his wife, his face alight with pride. "It is magnificent, Xiu'er. But who will buy it? The villagers are set in their ways. They are cautious with their coin."
"Then we will not sell to the villagers," Li Wei said, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "We will give them a taste, and they will tell us what the price should be. We will start with the hardest sell of all: the market stall owner