Chapter 101: The Marvelous Kitchen Chapter 100: Door-to-Door Visit
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Protagonist:
Song Miao
Yesterday was the Cold Food Festival; because the prepared ingredients were few, and Xiao Lian had burned all night, Song Miao did not need Cheng Erniang's help the next day, only telling her to take her daughter to the clinic early. On her way back from the stall, she happened to meet the mother and daughter on the road.
Xiao Lian was burned out and weak, and Cheng Erniang carried her in a bamboo basket. Seeing Song Miao, she came forward to help push the stall cart.
Song Miao hurriedly told her to put the child on the cart and asked what the doctor said.
"They said it was spleen deficiency, and phlegm-damp stagnation, and that she caught cold-damp qi and caught a cold wind..." Cheng Erniang's face was full of regret. "If I had known, I wouldn't have let her touch water—but this child insisted on helping me wash people's belts!"
The two spoke as they returned home. Cheng Erniang wanted to decoct medicine for her daughter, but the Song family had no medicine pot left—it had been taken by someone long ago.
Song Miao said: "There doesn't seem to be anything like that for sale nearby. First soak the medicine; there's a shop selling plates, bowls, and pots in the fangzi to the east. I happen to need to buy vegetables, so I'll bring it back for you."
Cheng Erniang said: "I'll go with the young lady and bring back some things for myself too. I've already been scraped and moxibusted on the ear, and I should really be sleeping. I'm of no use at home anyway."
After a while, the two settled Xiao Lian and went out to buy things.
Arriving at the fangzi, Song Miao found the pot shop by memory. While waiting for Cheng Erniang to choose, she saw many sandal pots inside and thought they would be good for stewing soup or simmering rice, so she picked out several large and small ones and settled the bill together with the medicine pot.
Cheng Erniang tried to grab them, but Song Miao smiled: "I need them too. Am I never going to get sick in the future? It's only a few coins. When Er Niangzi does business herself in the future, it won't be too late to grab them then."
"I wish I had that skill!" Cheng Erniang stopped grabbing and couldn't help sighing. "I have no talent. When I was young, the girls next door sewed and mended with me, and their stitches were better than mine. The sachets and embroidery patterns they made were accepted by the shops, but I had nothing worth showing."
"I spend every day around the stove, and what I make can only fill my belly—it's not tasty at all. At my age, all I can do is wash clothes for people."
Song Miao smiled: "If everyone could make tasty food, who would I sell my food to?"
She added: "Er Niangzi said you grow vegetables very well. When we have money in the future, let's buy the houses next door and across the way, open a vegetable plot, and let me see if the vegetables are good."
After a while, Cheng Erniang laughed and said: "What is that? Just scratching for food in the farmer's field!"
She added: "I only hope Xiao Lian can have a skill to rely on in the future, anything at all, as long as she can support herself, I'll be relieved!"
Because she was worried about leaving Xiao Lian alone at home, after buying the sandal pots, clay pots, and some meat, Song Miao told Cheng Erniang to go home first while she slowly browsed. Besides the stall ingredients, she also bought some daily necessities.
By the time she returned home, it was already noon.
Entering the back courtyard, she first smelled a medicinal scent. It turned out Cheng Erniang was decocting medicine and washing clothes.
Seeing Song Miao return, she hurriedly stood up and said: "I can't go into the room. Young Lady, take out your clothes. While my hands are wet and the soapberry has released its juice, we can wash them together."
Speaking, she pointed to a wooden basin by the door and said: "Young Lady, put your changed clothes here from now on. I'll take care of them. Washing together saves soapberry—my hands and feet are very clean, you can rest assured!"
A few pieces of clothing, a simple matter. Under one roof, we naturally help each other. Song Miao did not decline and went back to her room to get her outer garment.
Cheng Erniang was particular about her work. She soaked Song Miao's clothes separately in a basin, not mixing them with her own and her daughter's, and said: "Xiao Lian usually loves cleanliness. How are her clothes so dirty and smelly today? I don't know where she rolled in the mud."
Hearing this, Song Miao went to look. Indeed, on the two small pant legs was something black and sticky. Now soaked in water, as she got closer, there was a foul smell.
The stain stuck to the fabric like an oil stain, but not quite. It had a strange rancid smell, a bit like a dead mouse, making one nauseous.
Song Miao felt the smell was somewhat familiar but couldn't say what it was. Looking closely, she saw the shape and pattern were horizontal lines, and the head was like half a large oval.
She compared the position and even tried it with her own foot, asking: "Was it that man yesterday who kicked it? It looks like a shoe toe print."
Cheng Erniang was stunned for a moment. Looking closely, she suddenly understood: "It must be. No wonder I said she had a big bruise on her leg. I thought she bumped into something and scolded her a few times. Really, why didn't she say anything!"
"Kicked so hard it left a bruise, it must hurt a lot." Song Miao couldn't help frowning. "Leaving aside that this person is unreasonable, how can their shoes be so dirty and smelly?"
She added: "I'll go see the child."
After a while, she entered the room. Xiao Lian lay on the bed, one eye open and one closed. Seeing Song Miao come, she immediately opened both eyes and called softly: "Sister!"
Song Miao asked if she felt uncomfortable and what she wanted to eat.
"There's nothing I want to eat. Whatever Sister makes, I'll eat."
Song Miao touched her forehead again. It wasn't so hot anymore, but for some reason, the child looked very low-spirited. She couldn't help asking: "What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable somewhere?"
She also asked if her leg hurt and if that fierce man yesterday kicked hard.
I don't know which sentence triggered it, but tears suddenly welled up in Xiao Lian's two small eyes. She cried pitifully and said softly: "Sister, Mother said she doesn't blame me, but I still feel... I feel like there's a worm burrowing in my heart!"
"I really didn't run around yesterday. I told him that place was very stinky—very, very stinky! He wouldn't listen. I didn't block anyone, and I didn't stand close. They said I did something wrong, that it was wrong, that they wrongly blamed me..."
The more sensible the child, the more sensitive her mind.
Song Miao hurriedly handed her a handkerchief to wipe her tears and softly comforted her. Then she scolded that fierce man and the slaughterhouse owner quite a bit before saying: "Your mother knows you feel wronged, but she doesn't dare to talk about this matter. She's afraid that if she says too much, you'll keep thinking about it and feel sad..."
Xiao Lian sobbed and said: "Mother doesn't say anything, but I still keep thinking about it, and my heart feels sad..."
She added: "Sister, don't mind me. I'll cry by myself. I'll be fine after crying a bit!"
Song Miao went along with her words and answered. Then she went out to find Cheng Erniang, explained the reason, and said: "She probably keeps thinking about this matter, feels she was wrong, and feels wronged, with it all knotted up in her heart. You might as well talk it out with her."
Hearing this, Cheng Erniang indeed put down her work and hurriedly went to find her daughter.
It was nearly noon, lunchtime. The sky outside was overcast, and soon it started drizzling.
The rain would get heavier, then lighter, never stopping. Soon, rain vapor and dampness drifted into the room.
Song Miao was blown by the wind and felt somewhat chilly.
She looked at the pot on the stove. Inside was still half a pot of bone broth left from the morning, kept warm. Originally, she planned to eat noodles with this soup at noon, but after thinking, she decided to mix some dough instead. She cut a piece of Mei Tou Meat and mixed it with two rehydrated shiitake mushrooms chopped into a paste, preparing to eat wontons with this broth at noon.
Since Xiao Lian was still sick and her diet should be light, she didn't plan to make big wontons, but small ones.
Just as she finished frying the egg skin and cutting it into fine strips, and took some soup to soak the mustard greens, Cheng Erniang came out. Seeing the four-sided dough sheets and meat filling on the stove, she hurriedly said: "Young Lady, are you wrapping wontons? Let me help!"
Song Miao said: "No need. Watch the fire and help boil half a pot of water."
Speaking, she began to roll the wontons.
The so-called rolling: because the wrapping method uses a thin bamboo splint to lightly scrape half a splint of meat paste, press it on the edge of the wonton wrapper, and use the meat's stickiness to flip the meat splint five, six, seven, or eight somersaults on the wrapper. When pulling it out, the bit of meat paste brought out is wrapped around the edge of the wrapper. Taking advantage of this stickiness, pinch the opposite corner to secure it firmly.
She rolled very lightly, loosely and slackly, making the wontons look bigger than they actually were. But once in the water and boiled, the wrapper would present a wrinkled, wavy shape, sticking to the meat filling.
Song Miao's movements were always fast. By the time Cheng Erniang brought back half a pot of water and sat down, Song Miao had opened the stove door, added firewood, and made the fire burn bright. She saw that the winnowing basket was already piled full, and the wonton wrappers had only the last sheet left.
She saw the wrapper on Song Miao's hand, thin as gauze, almost able to see the fingers below. She couldn't help saying: "Such a thin, transparent wrapper!"
She asked again: "Should I turn the fire down a little? Otherwise, if I'm not careful and overcook them, the filling will leak out."
Song Miao smiled and said: "It's fine. I added egg white to the dough, so even if they're cooked through, the wrappers will be soft but not mushy."
Speaking, she took advantage of the boiling water to drop the raw wanzi in batches, scooped them out with a strainer, and served them into three bowls, then added a little vinegar and a pinch of white pepper to Xiao Lian's bowl—this white pepper was still what He Qi had sent last time; she hadn't seen him for a while.
Soon Cheng Erniang brought the wanzi over to her daughter, saying: "Sister specially made these hot wanzi for you; you'll feel better once you eat them."
Though these words were meant to coax a child, Xiao Lian was very willing to listen; she grabbed a spoon, held the bowl, and began to eat.
The soup was warm, the wanzi hot, mixed together, brought in from outside, and cooled by the wind and rain; by now they were just right to eat.
Green scallions, green-and-white mustard greens, clear bone broth, yellow egg strips, and the wanzi wrappers thin as gauze or paper; once cooked through, they looked like waves or mountain ridges, and in the surging waves and uneven ridges, the plump color of the meat filling inside was all the more apparent.
One bite, and the hollow folds held plenty of broth; the wrapper was soft and tender but not mushy, the filling neither too much nor too little, all clean and sweet meat fragrance mixed with a hint of mushroom freshness, with no trace of sinew left, yet because the texture was well-kneaded, there was a slight springiness, even a faint illusion of crispness; swallowing it down, a touch of vinegar sourness and peppery warmth returned, making the freshness even more pronounced.
One bowl of wanzi, exceptionally fresh and clean.
Xiao Lian had no appetite at first, but ended up eating ten or more in one breath; at first she liked the wrapper best, after a few she liked the filling, and by the end she liked everything, and after finishing, she even gulped down all the soup.
If a child can eat, half the illness is already cured.
Seeing her daughter had an appetite, Cheng Erniang finally let out a big sigh of relief.
Sure enough, Xiao Lian's fever broke that very night; after a few more doses of medicine, her cough also improved, and the matter was left aside for now.
As for Xiao Lian, ever since then, whenever she saw someone sick or someone with a fever, she always told them to eat wanzi; whoever coughed, she always urged them to eat almond tofu and almond juice white lung soup, and would seriously explain that if it didn't work, it was only because they hadn't eaten Song Xiaoniangzi's cooking, otherwise it would surely cure them, and she simply refused to admit it was the medicine's effect.
From Qingming Festival Festival Day on, the rain almost never stopped.
When it rained, business was hard to do.
Song Miao's breakfast didn't worry about selling, but going back and forth in wind and rain was always inconvenient; the idea of setting up another stall never truly came to pass, and she could only wait for the weather to improve before trying again.
Instead, the delivery business at Zhuque Gate Patrol Station and the Capital Prefecture Office had already gotten started, and the daily ordered quantity was steadily rising.
Entering the third month, the weather gradually grew hotter; on Qingming Festival Festival Day when it rained, it was still cool, but after just two days, that coolness turned into stuffy dampness.
Song Miao originally used to close her stall every day, buy meat and vegetables back, tidy up what needed tidying, and put the next day's water-bath preserved goods into the well; when taken out of the water, they were still very fresh.
But now she saw the weather gradually warming, with nonstop rain and very damp conditions; after much thought, taking advantage of having an extra pair of hands now, she changed to getting up every morning, first going to the nearest meat shop to buy pork and mutton killed that day, to keep it fresh.
That day Song Miao had just closed her stall and was pushing her cart home; just as she reached Taixue Road intersection, she saw several people poking their heads out, waiting by the roadside, looking hesitant.
One or two, all very familiar faces—the very group from before who had once helped her copy books and driven away a crowd of pig trotter rice Taixue students.
She found it very strange, stepped forward and greeted them, saying: "I heard from Young Master Cheng that you all were seconded to the Capital Prefecture Office; have you finished your business and come back? Why are you all squatting here?"
The one at the head was Wang Chang; seeing Song Miao, he looked like he had found a savior, and first cried out "Bitter!", about to complain, but someone beside him said: "Don't say it here! Find a place—be careful someone hears!"
Song Miao found it even stranger and asked: "Don't you have class today?"
The words had barely fallen when several people had already shrunk back, hiding and skulking.
Song Miao had no choice and said: "If you're not in a hurry, come to my house for a bit."
Soon after returning to the Song Family home, Cheng Erniang and Xiao Lian were already home; seeing guests, some poured tea, some served food.
Once one side learned she was Young Master Cheng Zijian's sister and niece, and the other side knew they were acquainted with his brother and uncle as classmates, they stood on no ceremony, fetched several cushions, and sat down to talk together.
Wang Chang had been holding it in for a long time; his bitter complaints finally burst out in a torrent, first calling out "Song Stall Owner", then saying: "We have such a hard life! This secondment doesn't even give us time to catch our breath; everyone has to check the clan registers according to quota every day, working from daytime into night; last night I still hadn't finished by the third quarter of the zi hour—and the duty clerk even complained we were using lamp oil too fast, saying if this continued, they wouldn't issue any more tomorrow!"
"The work assigned can't be finished without staying up late; say a few more words and you get lectured, saying we ourselves don't know how to do things!"
"All they know is to talk about us; how come they never see that Cai family man doing any work!"
"Exactly! This thing seems useless even when done; every day mistakes and omissions are found; taking the lists out, after several days no one comes to supplement the materials; the clan registers still lie there, and no one knows what we've been doing every day!"
Everyone spoke one sentence here, one sentence there; sometimes one after another, sometimes all at once; everyone complained to the heavens, leaving Song Miao's two ears not knowing whom to listen to first.
At this moment someone continued: "Song Stall Owner doesn't know; when we came, they said meals were included, but actually there's nothing to eat; that Cai Xiu said he's reporting upward, but it won't be approved for a while, so he told us to first pay for food ourselves, and settle things later..."
"Food near the government office is terribly expensive! Our little subsidy—how could we bear to buy more? We can't even fill our stomachs every day, and still have to suffer—won't we end up having to pay out of our own pockets?!"
Song Miao finally understood the general situation and asked: "Can't you quit this job? Can they forcibly keep you? Does it count as having already quit?"
"It's not easy to quit." Wang Chang had a mournful face; "Someone raised it, but that Cai Xiu said if everyone just left midway, it would disgrace the school and disgrace the teacher; we must get the approval of the teacher and the school rector, and have Taixue intervene to negotiate with the Capital Prefecture Office, before it's possible..."
End of Chapter
