The Story of Yishengzhai in Luzhi

Luzhi Yishengzhai Restaurant was founded in 1940. Nestled in the bustling heart of the town, it occupies a two‑story building with a ground floor and an upper level, connected by a narrow waterway that links it to nearby homes. Set alongside the water and near a bridge, the restaurant boasts bright windows and immaculate furnishings; boats glide past just outside the panes, while baskets suspended from overhead cranes carry fresh fish and shrimp. The owner, surnamed Yang, is tall and robust, with piercing eyes and a fondness for letting his beard grow long—his thick, bushy sideburns reminiscent of Li Kui’s, giving him an air of effortless grace and a keen sense of innovation. The townsfolk affectionately call him “Old Man Yang with the Beard.”

A story has been passed down in town about Master Yang, who shot to fame in a single stroke:

In 1945, with the victory of the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression, Suzhou City hosted a culinary competition that drew participants from ten major towns across the surrounding countryside. The rules stipulated that each town would send one chef, who would bring his own raw ingredients and, within thirty minutes, prepare on the spot four stir-fried dishes and one soup. A five-member panel of judges would taste, score, and award prizes on the spot. On the day of the event, the venue was orderly and fully equipped. Before the contest began, each contestant submitted a menu for the judges’ review. The dish names were varied and imaginative, most lavishly worded, evoking poetic imagery and sparking the imagination—yet Master Yang’s entries stood out as plain and unremarkable: “Stir-Fried Douban,” “Stir-Fried Bean Sprouts,” “Stir-Fried Bamboo Shoot Tips,” and “Tofu, Egg Yolk, and Pork Liver Soup.” One judge, upon seeing this menu, scoffed and muttered incessantly, “These are nothing but ordinary home-cooked dishes from the countryside; they’d be better off withdrawing to avoid tarnishing the competition’s reputation.” Another judge chimed in: “I once visited Lüzhí and sampled the cuisine at Yishengzhai—it was indeed quite good. I’ve heard Master Yang is fond of unconventional ideas. Since he’s already here, let’s give him a chance; no need to make a fuss—he won’t embarrass himself.”

On the competition stage, the clatter of pots and pans mingled with the glow of flames, while tantalizing aromas wafted through the air and steam rose in plumes. Before long, the ten master chefs had finished their work, each presenting their creations on a separate table for evaluation. The judges sampled each dish one by one, scoring as they went. In the end, when the scores were tallied, it was the table from Luzhi that took first place—with the highest total. The judges exchanged puzzled glances, all quietly recognizing that Master Yang’s cuisine was indeed exquisite and unlike anything they had ever tasted. Yet, since they couldn’t visually assess every raw ingredient, they called upon Master Yang for clarification. He answered each question in turn, and the judges suddenly understood.

The results were announced publicly: six recipients earned third prize, two received second prize, and one was awarded first prize. Not a single winner came from Luzhi. The awardees wore expressions of joy, stepped onto the stage to accept their banners, and returned to their seats with smiles—each one, without exception, glancing toward Master Yang.
The judge announced, “The grand prize winner is Master Yang from Luzhi. The citation reads: ‘A household‑style dish name, brimming with suspense. Ingenious ideas, a uniquely Luzhi‑inspired ingredient blend. Masterful cooking—delicious and unforgettable. Though the price is high, it’s truly worth every penny.’” A ripple of astonishment swept through the audience. The judge quickly interjected, “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm—now, Master Yang will take the stage to share his signature Luzhi‑inspired ingredients.”

Master Yang took the stage and bowed slightly. “Distinguished judges and fellow chefs, let me introduce the ingredients I’ve used for my dishes: for the Sautéed Douban, I’ve taken the two gill fillets from the head of a mudskipper; for the Sautéed Bean Sprouts, the oil-soaked barbels of a carp; for the Sautéed Dried Beancurd Sheets, the water‑soaked webbed feet of a goose’s paw; for the Sautéed Bamboo Shoot Tips, the tongue of a sparrow; and for the Tofu, Egg Yolk, and Pork Liver Soup, the brains of chickens and ducks, along with crab roe and the lungs of a Chinese perch.”

The audience listened attentively. When the lecture concluded, the room erupted in applause and cheers. A well-to-do gentleman rose to speak: “Master Yang truly has a masterful touch—his dishes are extraordinary, delightful, and full of unexpected flair. Though the ingredients are costly, he can pull it off every time. I’d like to invite Master Yang to my home to prepare a feast of today’s finest dishes, so my whole family can savor them. I wonder if Master Yang would be willing to oblige?”

Master Yang replied, “I am deeply honored by your kind words—thank you very much. However, I never go out to cook; when my regular customers come, they insist that I be the one to prepare their meal, so please forgive me. If you would do me the honor of visiting Yishengzhai, I invite you to Luozhi to savor our cuisine. You can sit upstairs by the window, take in the sight of the little bridge and flowing water, and listen to the rhythmic sound of oars as boats pass by—enjoying the quaint charm of this ancient town while you dine. It’s truly a delightful experience. But do make a reservation first, as preparing the dishes takes time. On the day of your visit, I will personally take the helm and welcome you with warm hospitality. And as a special treat, I’ll present you with a grand dish—braised chicken with watermelon—and four exquisite cold appetizers: fragrant toon buds, malan greens, pickled amaranth, oil‑fried shad, plus a small jar of Shaoxing osmanthus‑carved delicacies. Let’s strike up a friendship. You are most welcome at Yishengzhai in Luozhi.”

Master Yang’s impromptu advertising earned the admiration of the entire audience. From then on, Yishengzhai in Luzhi shot to fame, becoming the most renowned restaurant in the ancient town. During the Cultural Revolution, the name “Yishengzhai” was branded as a symbol of feudalism, capitalism, and revisionism, and the restaurant was forced to cease operations. Master Yang passed away in 1984 at his daughter’s home in Changzhou, at the age of 80.