The capital of Nanyuan Kingdom was called Daliang. Chen Ping'an knew the capital's sights and customs like the back of his hand, so he picked a thriving late-night eatery and ordered grilled fish.
There was a Qingqin River outside Daliang, whose black carp were exceptionally plump. Grilled fish paired with Daliang's Lotus White was a match made in heaven. Cheap and fine, it was loved alike by nobles and peddlers. Yet the moment Chen Ping'an put his chopsticks to the fish, he knew it was one of those "transferred fish"—fish brought in from ponds and rivers elsewhere, then left to soak in the Qingqin River for a few days. He said nothing, merely glanced at the young proprietor. The fellow looked as though he had been carved from the same mold as the old proprietor. Most likely, the old man had grown too old and passed both the eatery and his craft on to his son. The grilled fish's secret chili oil, seasonings, and side dishes were all unchanged. Only one flavor was missing: honesty. Of course, perhaps this little eatery was merely struggling to make ends meet. The Qingqin River's fish had now become a river delicacy reserved for Daliang City's wealthy. Thus, the roadside eatery had gained one extra seasoning: livelihood.
Chen Ping'an had led them to the little eatery. There was an empty table against the wall, with two long benches. Liu Xianyang sat down first and claimed one bench, sitting in its middle. He slapped the table and asked whether they had any liquor.
Gu Can had been standing beside the table. Chen Ping'an gestured for him to sit on the inner side. After Gu Can sat down, he reached out and shifted the end of the bench near Chen Ping'an outward. When Chen Ping'an stepped