I Rely on Ancestral Recipes to Survive

In the spring of the third year of Daye, I took over the dilapidated restaurant in the west of Bianjing City. Everyone is waiting to see when the Su family's young lady will pawn her dowry. Instead, I dug out the ancestral recipe and fried the lost "" in an iron pot. Until the down-and-out scholar who often came to have a meal suddenly came to the door, followed by the Huangmen Minister: "Ms. Su, Your Majesty said... If we can't eat that exquisite peony bream again, I'm afraid our shop will be destroyed." I weighed the frying spoon and smiled slightly: "Tell Your Majesty, we need more money."