Chapter 123

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

Eleven or twelve streams, small fish found everywhere in little rivers — cute as they are, they don't taste good, have no meat to speak of, even making fried dried fish isn't worth the oil; whether anglers or fishermen, anyone who catches them first curses their bad luck then hurriedly throws them back in the water.

As for buying vegetables, if a household accidentally gets a couple slipped in by the fish stall, they scold the boss for eating salty food and stealing from their scale!

Such things, Song Miao collected them and naturally felt not the slightest burden.

The more she watched those fish swimming randomly in the water, the more she liked them; she busily thanked him, then chased after him to carefully ask their names again.

Whether a person is truly happy is actually very obvious.

Song Miao smiled with narrowed eyes, her eyes curved, when asking questions she didn't even lift her head, just stared at the fish observing them back and forth.

She watched the fish, Han Li watched her watch the fish, and couldn't help smiling along.

The encounters and relationships between people are truly mysterious.

Getting along with this Boss Song is really excessively comfortable.

So comfortable that he unconsciously wanted to come help do things — make tables and chairs, move and carry things, even yesterday when finding books in the Shu Ge, after finishing proper business he couldn't resist flipping through the Fish Mirror, and this morning going to buy tung oil, passing by the river, before he even reacted he had already paid the fisherman to buy some wild fish back.

And while doing these messy assorted things, he didn't even think about their purpose or meaning.

He simply thought this way, simply did it, finished it, and sure enough saw the other party happy, and his own heart felt some inexplicable satisfaction.

Even if every time there wasn't that much good food to eat, he was still very happy.

Of course, having it was still best.

These fish he was all used to seeing, no need to look closely, and he couldn't stare at the person either — after all not very polite — so he could only lightly glance, watching her smile as she watched the fish, studying the fins and tail, and also wondering how with such a thin, skinny fish, that belly could be so bulging.

Though just one glance, he still felt that face resembled a tiny lotus bud, right at the moment of waiting to bloom; the small dimples on her cheeks were like clear water droplets on lotus leaves in early morning, gently swaying with the breeze, faintly appearing, then quickly falling into the water and disappearing.

Han Li blanked for a moment, and for an instant strangely felt like sitting right there on the ground, waiting to watch it slowly open.

He steadied his mind, then went to answer the name.

A casually made-up name, quite perfunctory — just the likes of Jia, Yi, Bing, Ding — but he crouched down and introduced each fish's name and appearance to Song Miao one by one — remarkable that he really could tell them apart, not randomly making it up — and also said: "When you have time, give them some nice, pleasant-sounding names."

Then said: "Think slowly, no rush, next time I'll come and match them up one by one for you."

Song Miao, knowing he had other arrangements, asked: "Busy this afternoon, will you be back for dinner in the evening?"

And said: "Young Master helped make so many tables and chairs, how could you be sent off with just one meal?"

How could Han Li bear her asking like this? He couldn't help calculating the time in his heart, then calculating the arrangements, and said: "Should be able to; if I can't make it in time, I'll have someone send word back."

Song Miao agreed, lifting the wooden bucket's partition — only now discovering the bucket contained half a bucket of tung oil used for brushing wood.

Though the fish were small, there were still ten or so; since these fish would all take the surname Song, would become her own fish, Song Miao couldn't bear to use the original coarse porcelain basin for raising moss — fearing the space would be cramped and restrictive.

She searched around; the family had an old broken oil jar; she busily brought it out and washed it, put in the stones Xiao Lian gave, counting it as giving the fish a home.

Having settled the lucky little fish, it was the unlucky big fish's turn.

Yesterday she and Cheng Erniang bought quite a lot of meat and vegetables, precisely preparing for rainy days when going out would be difficult; at this moment she caught a big carp, killed the fish and removed the bones.

Carp has five fishy parts on its body: gills, teeth, the black membrane and blood in the abdomen, and also the slime on its body — Song Miao carefully handled all of them.

Actually sour bamboo shoot braised fish is best with fish chunks, because the fish bones support the flesh, making the meat texture firmer; once bones are removed, the meat easily falls apart.

But today that Han Li had other arrangements, and there was a child at home; fish meat with bones is troublesome to eat, not to mention easy to choke on the throat.

Song Miao thought a bit, only removed the small bones between the meat and the large spinal bones, kept the belly bones, cut all the rest of the fish meat into large pieces rather than slices, and didn't use anything to coat them; hot wok cold oil first pan-fried the fish meat, fish bones, fish head, using only salt to pan-fry, first pan-fry to set shape, wait until slightly cool then re-fry, fry until both sides golden yellow, add boiling water, add a few Sichuan peppercorns, high heat boil until the soup turns thick and white.

Here the fish soup was boiling, smelling that the rice had already cooked fragrant; Song Miao started another wok to stir-fry sour bamboo shoots, and another wok to fry tofu puffs in oil.

The tofu puffs just need to slowly roll in oil, occasionally letting Cheng Ernian press and watch the fire and turn them; but the sour bamboo shoots she had to stir-fry herself.

First put in some fermented black beans to stir-fry fragrance, then put in lots of crushed cornelian cherry, mustard seeds, and stir-fry together with sour bamboo shoots.

Hot oil, fierce fire, the sour-spicy flavor was almost instantly stimulated out; the whole room was filled with choking spicy oil smoke.

Song Miao stood at the stove, choked right in the face, tears streaming down one side while the sour-spicy smell made her crave it; she hurriedly sent Xiao Lian, who was in the back wiping tables and playing, to the back courtyard, to avoid being smoked.

Cheng Erniang had quick eyes, didn't need Song Miao to instruct, already stepped forward and opened the main doors wide.

The Song family front hall was originally a food shop, very large; eight doors normally only two opened; now the doors opened, wind blew, finally dispersed quite a bit of that oil smoke choking spiciness.

Cheng Erniang then busily brought a fan to fan wind at Song Miao's face, saying: "Oil smoke smoking people like this, for now it's alright, cooking little; if later the food shop truly opens, best to stir-fry less, otherwise how can Madam alone manage so much."

And said: "Pity my hands are clumsy; even glutinous rice balls, shaomai, such foods, made for so long, still following Madam's given recipe and method, the results still don't taste right; otherwise I could help with much more."

Song Miao smiled: "Big fire small fire, condiments put first or put later, there are always many habits that differ from person to person; the resulting flavors naturally also differ; if it were that easy to make the same, wouldn't every street and alley be full of my Song Ji flavor glutinous rice balls and shaomai? Then who would still come wait to buy mine?"

For a moment Cheng Erniang also laughed, couldn't mind the fire, hurriedly fanned a few more times to blow the oil smoke away from Song Miao's face.

Song Miao then said: "This wind vent, when oil smoke is heavy, facing the wind it easily blows in the face; the back courtyard kitchen would be better — after all this was originally just a stove for morning cooking rice noodles and noodles, temporary use, ultimately not as handy as a proper big kitchen."

And said: "Heard someone made a water-powered fan; if we also had that thing, the back courtyard kitchen already has windows, facing it to blow, maybe the oil smoke could be reduced quite a bit."

While the two spoke, the sour bamboo shoots were already stir-fried extremely thoroughly.

Song Miao waited a bit more, then took the fried and drained oil tofu puffs, casually chopped them a few times with the knife, tossed them into the wok to stir-fry evenly, picked out the fish bones, poured in the fish meat and fish soup, and added a head of Chinese cabbage to boil together.

Waited until the sour bamboo shoot flavor boiled through into the fish soup and fish meat, the Chinese cabbage also cooked soft, sprinkled a handful of small celery sections; the thoroughly sour-fragrant braised fish directly served in one pot.

Because this pot was very large, serving in bowls wasn't good for picking up food; Song Miao simply padded an iron rack on the wooden table and carried the whole pot over.

When it was time to eat, the table displayed a lavish one big pot, inside packed nearly full to the brim; called braised fish but actually lots of soup, already close to half-braised half-soup, simply fragrant beyond description.

Han Li made tables and chairs for half a day, his belly long empty; seeing this one pot, his stomach nearly cried out.

Xiao Lian who served rice, didn't know if it was because he was tall, or because he was a guest, or for the sake of that "Lian" character chair, gave him a bowl of rice nearly overflowing.

This time the rice was pearl rice; rice oil and rice resin fragrance were both very sufficient.

The fish meat chunks were two kinds: one with bones, all long bones from the belly area, a light slide with chopsticks and they come off; one without bones, completely pure fish meat, eating it basically no need to fear bones.

Whichever kind, they had all completely absorbed the sour-spicy flavor.

Compared to the river snail rice noodles from that day, the sour and spicy flavors of today's sour bamboo shoot fish were somewhat milder. Ordinary people eating sour bamboo shoots only taste sourness, and often the fermented flavor is too strong, even making them think it smells bad, but actually behind that sourness is the freshness and sweetness of the bamboo shoots providing support.

Now both cooked together, the fish's freshness was raised to its peak by the sourness and spiciness, merging as one with the bamboo shoot's sweetness and freshness. That rich, full-bodied flavor truly made one's mouth water.

It had been raining these past days, the river water was muddy, and the fish's muddy fishy smell was naturally much heavier than usual, but the flavors of sour bamboo shoots, evodia, and mustard seeds suppressed and balanced it, so the muddy taste was long gone, leaving only a rich sour, spicy, fresh aroma.

This fish was slightly larger, its flesh not as tender as other small fish, but this time they were not eating it for its tenderness.

A carp of this size, boiled into soup with fish bones, yields a white soup with rich flavor and more gelatin. The meat is just right—not too rough and dry, nor too thin in flavor.

Song Miao deliberately cut the fish into large pieces, pan-fried them twice. The outer layer was crispy and fragrant, the inside fish meat fragrant.

When eating the belly meat, the area around the belly was full of gelatin, even slightly glutinous, sticking to the mouth with sour and spicy soup juice. When eating the boneless meat, one could take big bites and chew. The meat was elastic and firm, still striving to keep its own fish freshness inside, while the outside was mainly sour and spicy flavor, with crispy fragrance as a supplement.

The tofu puffs were fried by themselves. The white tofu inside was almost only a bit near the edge, completely different from the store-bought ones that are solid tofu puffs in the middle. By now they had absorbed the soup juice. Taking a bite, the fresh sourness of sour bamboo shoots, the numbing spiciness of evodia, mustard seed, old ginger, and Sichuan pepper, and the rich flavor of fish soup—it truly burst with soup juice.

If there were a mouthful of rice in the mouth at this time, the flavor of the sour, spicy, rich fish soup mixed with the bean fragrance of the tofu puffs, plus the rice fragrance of the rice. Chew once, and it smells good several times. The mouth, tongue, and even the nasal cavity are all filled with that sour bamboo shoot sour-spicy flavor. But when swallowed down the throat, the fish freshness suddenly burst out, catching the eater completely off guard.

Then there was the Chinese cabbage, naturally sweet and tender. After being boiled in this fresh-sour spicy soup juice, its sweetness became even more obvious. The celery was very refreshing and crisp.

Four people ate one large carp, cooked with side dishes into a full pot, plus another pot of rice. In the end, not a bit was left, not even the soup juice—they mixed it all with rice until clean. This sour bamboo shoot fish soup mixed with rice made people want to shout "Young Lady!"

While eating, almost no one had time to speak. After finishing, everyone sat on their chairs, as if still savoring the aftertaste.

After a long while, Cheng Erniang said: "I must learn this dish well. If we open a food shop here in the future, Young Lady, this sour bamboo shoot fish should definitely be made the signboard dish. No matter how much a portion costs, people will order it!"

Not only Xiao Lian, but even Han Li was nodding in agreement.

After lunch, because time was tight, Han Li brushed tung oil on all the tables and chairs, then took his leave first.

After he left, while Cheng Erniang was tidying up, she suddenly took a bamboo hat and brought an umbrella over to show Song Miao: "That Young Master Han brought back rain gear today, but it seems he took the wrong one."

She also said: "Our top is a hat bucket, this one is pointed—this one is woven more finely, and the umbrella is also wrong. His umbrella is much bigger."

Song Miao looked and saw that indeed the items were wrong.

"Young Master Han actually makes mistakes too," she couldn't help but laugh, "Anyway, he'll be back for dinner tonight. Let's not put them away for him; we'll return them when the time comes."

But when it was past the Wei Hour in the afternoon, a patrol soldier hurriedly came to knock on the Song family's door.

Song Miao answered the door and saw it was actually a familiar face who had come to the house before to keep watch on Dui Mian. She hurriedly asked the purpose of his visit.

The patrol soldier said: "I just returned from the Capital Prefecture Office. That Han brother asked me to come and pass on a message: the government office has business, so he won't be able to come tonight. The meal originally agreed upon doesn't need to be prepared. He'll come by again when he has free time another day."

He had just finished his leave and ran back to the government office. Song Miao found it somewhat surprising, but felt it wasn't proper to ask too much, so she only nodded and thanked him, then exchanged a few pleasantries with the patrol soldier.

She had only meant to ask a few greetings, but unexpectedly the patrol soldier sighed and said: "I'm doing fine. It's just that the last time we went together, that Censor Xin seems to have gotten into trouble."

Song Miao was startled and hurriedly asked for the details.

The patrol soldier said: "I don't know the specifics myself. It's all hearsay from inside the government office. They say last night they received an urgent message sent back. Several people were injured outside, and Censor Xin was injured the most seriously. He should be on his way back now, probably arriving in a day or two."

He also said: "I don't know what the situation is. We few have been discussing it, thinking that when he returns, we'll all go visit him together."

Xin Feng was a person with an explosive temper and a somewhat coarse disposition, but he was a good person. That day he had taken good care of Song Miao.

Especially when he led the deployment and capture of the gambling den across from Dui Mian, which could be considered solving a major problem for Song Miao.

Hearing this disjointed story, she was truly worried for him. She hurriedly said: "If you officials are chipping in to visit Censor Xin, please count me in for a share!"

As she spoke, she was about to go get money.

The patrol soldier hurriedly waved his hand and said: "It's still early. Wait until we get news, then I'll come tell you."

At this very moment, inside the Capital Prefecture Office, Han Li had just stepped into the room when Qin Jie, behind the desk, immediately called out to him. Without waiting for him to approach, Qin Jie came over himself, his expression very grim, and said: "Zheng Yan, Xin Feng has stirred up trouble. He captured Lv Mao in Baima County, but had bad luck—he was escaped from, and he himself was also slashed by a knife."