The trotter gravy was rich and luscious, the goose breast steeped in flavor.
Oxtail was plucked from the fragrant braising pot, sea clams scooped from tender chicken broth.
Wang Yang was a little tipsy.
The young Legal Clerk stood in a corner, his figure half concealed by shadow. He watched Wang Yang and the others trade toasts over exquisite dishes while mechanically gnawing the flatbread in his hand. Dry crumbs grated between his teeth, like sand and wax, impossible to swallow. His colleagues, meanwhile, had been rewarded with wine and food by Wang Yang. Though they could not sit at his table, they ate with dancing brows and obvious relish.
One commandery official clicked his tongue. "The Fragrant Snow Tower actually serves oxtail. What a rarity."
Another official said:
"The Fragrant Snow Tower sends someone out every month to make inquiries. Whenever an ox dies of old age or an accident, they immediately send lavish gifts to its owner, then report the death to the authorities on the owner's behalf. Once the authorities have verified everything, they issue the paperwork and collect the taxes and fees. Only then do they draw up a contract to buy the ox, have a guarantor provide a written guarantee, slaughter it for meat, and register the matter with the office to obtain a permit.
"There are procedures upon procedures and all manner of expenses involved. Simply being willing to spend money won't get it done. An ordinary restaurant doesn't have those connections. I hear the proprietor's surname is Cao, and Dao Tan is behind him. The Dao family has considerable wealth and influence, and seems especially fond of opening restaurants. The Drunken Moon Tower in the capital was opened by Dao Tan's elder brother, Dao Hui."
"So that's how it is. No wonder the