A Family of Longevity: The Exceptional Su Clan

In the patriarchal society of Song Dynasty China (960–1279), male scholars often outlived their female counterparts—a pattern starkly illustrated by the famed Su family. Scholar Su Xun lived past fifty, his legendary son Su Shi (better known as Su Dongpo) reached sixty, while Su Zhe, the youngest, surpassed seventy. By medieval standards, these were remarkable lifespans for educated men who endured political exile, warfare, and the stresses of public office.

Yet the women orbiting these literary giants faced tragically abbreviated lives:
– Su Xun’s daughter Banian (nicknamed “Eighth Sister”) perished at seventeen from abuse by her in-laws
– Su Zhe’s daughter Wanniang succumbed to illness at eleven
– Su Shi’s first wife Wang Fu died at twenty-seven, likely from postpartum complications
– His concubine Zhaoyun—immortalized in poetry—met her demise in her thirties after a culinary shock

The Perilous Realities of Song Dynasty Womanhood

Court documents and private writings reveal three grim reapers stalking Song women:
1. Childbirth: With no antiseptics or cesarean options, maternal mortality haunted every pregnancy
2. Disease: Tuberculosis, malaria, and nutritional deficiencies ran rampant
3. Domestic Violence: Legal codes granted husbands near-absolute authority over wives

The case of Su Xun’s daughter Banian exposes systemic failures. Despite her elite status, neither her father’s political connections nor Song legal statutes (which theoretically punished spousal abuse) could save her from marital brutality—a chilling testament to the era’s gender norms.

Death by Delicacy: The Snake Soup Incident

Zhaoyun’s bizarre demise unfolds like a dark comedy. Exiled to Guangdong with Su Shi in 1094, she unknowingly consumed snake stew—a local specialty disguised as seafood. Upon learning the truth, the concubine suffered psychological trauma so severe it triggered fatal physical decline. Contemporary sources like Zhu Yu’s Pingzhou Ke Tan document this episode while revealing Guangdong’s adventurous cuisine:

> “Southerners relish snakes, selling serpent stew in markets. They rebrand creatures—calling rats ‘house deer’ and grasshoppers ‘thatched shrimp’—to make them palatable.”

Even earthworms weren’t spared. Culinary historian Zhang Shizheng records their preparation: stuffed into bamboo tubes and roasted—a practice that would horrify Jin Yong’s fictional gourmet Hong Qigong, who deemed worms “the vilest fare under heaven.”

The Philosophy of Flavor: Yuan Jiong’s Saltless Existence

The chaos following the 1127 fall of Kaifeng forced scholar Yuan Jiong into impoverished exile. His memoir Kuai Zai Ji reveals an unexpected silver lining: discovering food’s benwei (本味)—the primal essence of ingredients—through salt-free cooking.

While modern “authentic flavor” trends involve dipping sauces, Yuan’s family adapted to extreme deprivation:
– Unseasoned river fish initially repelled them
– Over time, they detected subtle sweetness in plain-boiled carp
– The experience mirrored Confucius’ acquired taste for bitter calamus

This ascetic approach contrasts sharply with Kyoto’s yudofu (tofu hot pot)—a spiritualized version of Yuan’s necessity that now commands premium prices at Zen temples.

Imperial Cravings: Emperor Renzong’s Crab Rebellion

Young Emperor Renzong’s (r. 1022–1063) crab addiction provides a delicious case study in palace politics. As recorded by historian Sima Guang:
– The ruler binged on crustaceans until developing fengtan zhi zheng (wind-phlegm syndrome)
– Regent Empress Liu banned all seafood from court—enforced by terrified eunuchs
– Foster mother Empress Yang secretly smuggled crabs, earning Renzong’s lifelong loyalty

This culinary cold war underscores how food shaped Song power dynamics. The crab embargo likely stemmed from genuine health concerns (traditional medicine views crab as excessively yin), but Renzong perceived it as oppressive control—fueling resentment against Empress Liu’s prolonged regency.

Legacy: From Historical Tragedy to Modern Reflection

The Su family’s gendered mortality gap mirrors broader Song trends. Census data suggests urban elite women averaged just 24–30 years—far below male contemporaries. While modern medicine has alleviated biological vulnerabilities, cultural echoes persist:
– Postpartum confinement (zuo yuezi) still prioritizes new mothers’ recovery
– Guangdong’s snake restaurants now thrive as exotic attractions
– Minimalist “authentic flavor” cooking enjoys global gourmet status

Zhaoyun’s story particularly resonates as a cautionary tale about cultural displacement. Had she accompanied Su Shi to Hangzhou instead of Guangdong, history might remember her as more than “the concubine frightened to death by dinner.”

Through these intertwined narratives of loss, adaptation, and craving, we taste the complex flavors of an empire where—as in all eras—food was never merely sustenance, but a mirror of society’s deepest fears and desires.