Chapter 37: Chapter Thirty-Seven: Beef

The next day, Mo Shan went out, and when he returned in the evening, he carried a large bundle filled with wild beef.

"I went to see Old Zhao—he still had a lot left. No one bought it, and he couldn't eat it all, so I took it all back."

Liu Ruhua soaked the meat to remove the blood, then marinated it with spicy and aromatic seasonings.

These seasonings were gathered by Liu Ruhua from the mountains and sun-dried by herself; she learned the drying method from a neighbor's aunt, and it was a common seasoning among cultivation families in Xiancheng, though Liu Ruhua's version had a better fragrance.

The wild beef was marinated overnight; the next day, it was placed in the stove and boiled for half a day. Liu Ruhua fished out the meat, drained the pot's water, then added fresh water and spicy seasonings, first boiling it hard, then simmering it low and slow—this process continued for another night and day.

On the third evening, the stove fire was finally extinguished, and the lid was lifted.

Hot steam surged out, filling the entire house with the aroma of meat blended with seasonings.

Liu Ruhua took a small knife, sliced off a piece of meat into thin slices, placed it on a plate, set it on the table, and called to Mo Hua: "Hua'er, come taste it."

Mo Hua picked up his chopsticks, took a piece into his mouth, chewed a few times, and found it tender, flavorful, with lingering fragrance—the slight gaminess neutralized by the spice, revealing a unique taste.

"Mother, this is the best meat I've ever eaten!"

Mo Shan also took a bite, his eyes brightening, and praised his wife:

"Better than the chefs at any tavern."

Liu Ruhua smiled, tasted a piece herself, then still felt unsatisfied:

"The flavor's still a bit off—the seasonings should be lighter, the spice stronger, and the heat higher…"

Mo Hua thought it was already delicious—he had lived over ten years and never tasted meat this good. Whether he'd eaten better in his other life, he couldn't recall.

The wild beef tasted excellent, giving Liu Ruhua confidence to open a eatery. She sliced some from the pot, packed it into small food boxes, and had Mo Shan and Mo Hua distribute some to neighbors and friends.

Mo Shan delivered them to neighbors and friends in the demon-hunting squad.

Mo Hua carried the boxes first to Feng Laoxian at Xinglin Pavilion, thanking him for curing his mother, then delivered one to Master Chen, since the stove had been forged by him—the braised beef must be tasted by its maker.

Master Feng, skilled in dietary healing and abstaining from excess, still couldn't resist tasting a few slices of the beef and praised it endlessly.

Master Chen, needless to say, split half the beef among his disciples like Chen Dazhu, and kept the rest for himself to savor slowly with wine.

A few portions were taken by Mo Hua to Brother Da Hu's home.

Brother Da Hu and the others all bore the surname Meng, and were one family, but the three were not blood brothers.

The Meng family had once been prosperous, three generations under one roof—the old patriarch had three sons, each of whom gave him a grandson: these three grandsons were Da Hu, Shuang Hu, and Xiao Hu.

But fortune didn't last—Shuang Hu's father died hunting a demon beast; Shuang Hu's mother, consumed by grief and illness, soon followed him.

Xiao Hu's father vanished while traveling on business, having taken up with another female cultivator and never returned. Meng Master sent people to inquire; some said he had changed his name and started a new family, others claimed he had been bewitched by an unscrupulous demon woman, had his marrow drained and soul extracted, and been refined into a human pill.

Either way, he was gone. Xiao Hu's mother, ashamed, remarried.

The old patriarch had once hoped his descendants would multiply for generations, producing a Foundation Establishment cultivator and becoming a minor notable family in Xiancheng—but in the blink of an eye, two of his three sons were gone. Overcome with grief and rage, he fell ill and soon died.

Now the only pillar left was the eldest son. He never complained, raising his two brothers' children as his own—eating together when there was food, starving together when there wasn't; when the children misbehaved, he beat them all together and scolded them all together.

But as the three boys grew, their appetites grew too, and the already poor household became even more strained than others.

When Mo Hua brought the beef, the Meng family was having dinner.

Da Hu, Shuang Hu, and Xiao Hu were gnawing on steamed buns and pickled vegetables; when they heard Mo Hua had brought beef, their eyes widened. When he opened the box and the aroma drifted out, all three drooled.

Aunt Meng glared at the three boys. "Before eating someone else's food, thank them first!"

Shuang Hu immediately thumped his chest. "Mo Hua! Brothers don't say formalities—anyone who bullies you, I'll beat them for you!"

Da Hu and Xiao Hu chimed in together: "Me too! Me too!"

Aunt Meng raised her chopsticks and tapped each boy's head once, grumbling: "All you do is think of fighting, never of studying. If the three of you together were half as sensible as Mo Hua, I'd burn incense to the heavens!"

After speaking, seeing the boys staring longingly at the meat, her heart softened.

"Eat, eat—but remember to help your Uncle Mo and Aunt Liu with chores later. Don't just eat others' food for free."

The three boys nodded quickly, each took a piece of meat and placed it in their father's and mother's bowls, then finally began eating the rest.

As soon as Xiao Hu tasted the meat, he widened his eyes: "This meat is amazing!"

Da Hu and Shuang Hu, mouths full, nodded vigorously.

Mo Hua was delighted that his mother's cooking received praise.

Uncle Meng and Aunt Meng tasted the meat, nodded repeatedly, then passed the remaining pieces to the three boys.

Aunt Meng, envious, said to Mo Hua: "Your mother's cooking is truly excellent!"

Mo Hua replied: "Aunt Meng's cooking is excellent too!"

Aunt Meng laughed, taking Mo Hua's small hand: "I can't imagine how such a well-behaved, thoughtful child was born."

Uncle Meng tasted the beef, curious: "Is this wild beef? It doesn't taste like it."

"It's wild beef—cooked a very long time."

"No wonder," Uncle Meng nodded, then added to Mo Hua: "I heard you're opening an eatery. If you need help, tell your uncle and aunt—we'll help."

"Thank you, Uncle Meng!"

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Mo Hua rose to take his leave. Aunt Meng packed some freshly steamed buns and wild fruits into his hands.

"We don't have much to offer—take these buns and fruits home."

Mo Hua didn't refuse, packed the buns into the food box, and walked home while nibbling on the wild fruits.

Anyone who tasted the beef slow-cooked in the stove said it was excellent.

Liu Ruhua further refined her seasoning, adjusted the cooking heat, and made several bowls of beef noodles for Mo Hua to try—the broth rich and deep, the noodles chewy, the beef fragrant and fresh; Mo Hua smiled with closed eyes.

In addition, Liu Ruhua added other drinks and snacks to sell at the eatery.

Alcohol was a must, but cultivation families were poor, and the grains used for brewing were of low quality, so the taste wasn't good. But Liu Ruhua's own brewed liquor was entirely different.

Her liquor infused herbs and fresh fruits, had low alcohol content, and carried the rich fragrance of various flowers and fruits—slightly intoxicating, sweet, with a lingering aftertaste; Mo Hua especially loved it.

The food offerings included, besides beef, pastries, fruits, pine nuts, and beef noodles.

With help from neighbors and friends, preparations were complete, and the eatery opened on the first day of the month.

Originally, following street naming customs, it was to be called Mo's Eatery—but at Mo Hua's suggestion and Mo Shan's agreement, it was ultimately renamed "Liu's Eatery."

Liu Ruhua couldn't win against the father and son, so she had no choice but to agree.