Chapter 135

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

Song Miao understood at once.

She asked, "Can they be taken care of now?"

Han Li nodded, first returned to the room to take out a bag of money and give it to Song Miao, then said: "Wherever I can't take care of things, I entrust them all to you; please trouble yourself to oversee and tidy up, and help make up for deficiencies."

Song Miao would have come to ask even without money, let alone now that there was money.

Plus the cart drivers among the escort team, the group numbered over forty; although some had left, there were still quite a few, and one household could not accommodate them all, so they were scattered among various homes in the village.

Before departure, she first went with the large flatbread, then asked the hosts who were lodging them to help go house to house, collecting the clothes and dirty wet shoes everyone had taken off the previous day, saying she would find someone to help wash them—of course they hadn't been washed yet, nor did she dare wash them, for everyone feared they would have to leave today and wouldn't be able to finish, and instead they would just get stinky if covered up.

Only after marking everything one by one did she ask about dietary restrictions.

No one dared say they had any dietary restrictions.

When Han Li took his people away, Song Miao asked the host who was lodging them to help find some people to wash the clothes.

Now the water had risen, and the rain did not stop; the water in the fields could not be drained, everywhere was a vast expanse of water, and everyone in the village was worried, not knowing where their livelihood lay. Having gotten these jobs, as long as she asked, no one refused.

Song Miao also bought firewood from each household, and after asking people to wash the clothes, she made sure to help dry them.

Only after this matter was properly handled did she ask where they could buy things.

This village was not large, and there were no market towns before or behind; ten li ahead there was a somewhat larger village, but market days fell on the second, fifth, and eighth, and today happened to be the eleventh. Even if it were a market day, according to what the host said, going there they wouldn't be able to buy anything.

"Recently the floodwaters have risen severely; I heard that the roads out of many villages have all been cut off, and the previous two market days were not held."

After the host finished speaking, he asked again, "Miss, what vegetables do you want to buy? It's a pity the vegetable garden behind my house has been flooded by water; otherwise, right now is exactly when the mustard greens are coming out. We can't finish eating them ourselves, and we can't sell them. Even if I don't take your money, you can pick them for free."

Song Miao had long guessed that the floodwaters in the Capital were severe, and outside they would only be worse.

Although she herself had not brought many fine soft things, she had brought kitchen utensils and quite a few durable ingredients. Hearing the mistress say this, she did not ask for meat, only for vegetables.

Learning that there were several small earthen hills behind the village, and that there were vegetable fields planted on the hills that had not been flooded, she had someone take her to buy some, though only ordinary rapeseed, mustard greens, and the like.

After everything was packed up and she rested a little, it was already afternoon.

Knowing that everyone had set out early, and that it was raining and waterlogged outside, they would probably return early. Seeing that it was about time, she called the large flatbread over to prepare the dishes together.

First she made steamed buns.

She and the large flatbread each kneaded a portion of dough, and she gradually told him the ingredient ratios, how to use old dough, how to let it rise, why to let it rise that way. After the dough had risen, she went to do other things.

Among the ingredients she brought, dried goods were the most abundant.

She washed the shiitake mushrooms, carrots, scallions, cured sausage, and cured meat; the shiitake mushrooms and dried shrimp were soaked first. After handling them properly, what should be diced was diced, what should be drained was drained.

—She intended to make a hodgepodge simmered rice.

The main ingredient was cured meat, but since there were many miscellaneous things, it could not properly be called cured meat rice.

Seeing that the large flatbread worked hard and put in effort, though quite solid, his knife work was rather casual. She went over and asked him, "When you cut vegetables like this, do you use your forearm to exert force?"

The large flatbread had never thought about it, and no one had asked him. He just did whatever was convenient. Hearing this, he felt it himself and found it was indeed so, and hurriedly nodded.

Song Miao said, "I see you often press down with your arm, and always use your forearm to exert force. Once you press crookedly and the knife edge is wrong, the angle will be different, and the ingredients will be cut unevenly. That's one thing, but it also easily causes wrist pain."

She also taught him how to use the forearm to lead the wrist, how to use the wrist to exert force, how the knife follows the wrist, and so on.

When she had previously taught Cheng Erniang, and now when she taught the large flatbread, she was always very meticulous. Not only did she give verbal instruction, she would also take his hand and guide him.

Although it was no secret art, just ordinary experience summed up by predecessors, it was still far better than a novice fumbling around alone.

The large flatbread tried it according to what Song Miao taught. At first he was not used to it, after all it was different from his previous method. Slowly changing and adjusting, cutting along, he indeed was not so easily tired.

Song Miao watched him cut cured meat for a while, then said: "Smoked cured meat has a hard texture. Today's simmered rice will be cooked in a sand pot, so there's no fear of it not being cooked through. But if it's to be used for stir-frying, this kind of smoked thing is extremely dry and hard. It's best to steam it first, so it becomes soft and easy to chew."

She also told him that when making simmered rice, the cured meat and cured sausage are best cut thin and cut on the slant, so that the meat can be as close to the rice as possible, letting the oil fragrance permeate it. But it can't be too thin, otherwise when eating the cured meat and cured sausage, the flavor will be too bland.

The large flatbread had followed a master and had done two years of miscellaneous odd-job work for nothing. He knew very well how hard it was to learn a skill.

He had previously admired and respected Song Miao greatly. Now, having followed her to cook a meal, he became like a little chick, regarding Song Miao as the first living creature he saw when he broke out of his shell. He followed her wherever she went and imitated everything she did.

Seeing the child's great enthusiasm, Song Miao did not discourage him. She gradually had him do chores and taught him carefully.

After the ingredients were prepared, she watched the time and stir-fried half of the cured sausage and cured meat cubes in lard. Then she added shiitake mushroom cubes, scallion cubes, and carrot cubes. After stir-frying until fragrant, she added salt, then added the soaked rice and lightly stir-fried it together.

After stir-frying until even, the rice grains were mixed with all the ingredients. She added a little soy sauce, then added water that did not cover the raw rice by half a finger. Then she divided it into three large sand pots. What remained and could not fit was left in the large iron pot.

The rice was just half-cooked when noisy voices came from outside.

At that moment, the host hurried in and said, "The scholars outside are back!"

At the village entrance, seeing those young students running as fast as flying, one by one like monkeys rushing into various houses, Lu Wenming, who was last, couldn't help but sigh quietly.

He was already over forty years old and could not compare with these youngsters full of vigor.

Today he had been rushing about outside all day. Crossing mountains and wading through water was one thing, but just now while measuring, he accidentally slipped, and his right foot, along with his shoe and trouser leg, got wet.

He had not brought many changes of clothes, and he only had three pairs of shoes. In the previous days of rushing on the road, he inevitably got them dirty and wet. Now the pair on his feet was the last one, and they were soaked with yellow mud water. With every step, water came from his foot. It was truly terribly uncomfortable.

He felt very vexed in his heart, but had nowhere to vent and no way to speak of it.

At this age, he had elders above and children below in his family. He had read books for many years but achieved nothing. Not wanting to be supported by his parents and wife for a lifetime, he asked someone to introduce him and became a staff advisor under an official.

He had worked diligently for several years and considered himself down-to-earth. He clearly did the most work, but he always could not compare with others in gaining the official's favor.

This time, when Lao Min came to find people to go to Hua Prefecture, the official selected people from below. Everyone knew it was hard labor with no benefits at all. You pushed me, I pushed you; no one was willing to go.

In the end, he was the one forcibly dragged out, and he couldn't refuse no matter how he pushed back.

Yesterday, those few literati and retainers discussed leaving, and naturally they called him too.

But how could he act so recklessly?

First, having promised something, without special reason, he really couldn't just walk away. Second, if he left, after all he received a monthly stipend. How would he explain it to the official? How would the official explain it to Lao Min?

He had suffered through a night, and today measured water conservancy records for a whole day. In the morning and at noon he only ate cold hard dry rations. Now his whole body was soaked wet, his belly was hungry, his body was tired, and his clothes and shoes were sticky.

Even though he was no longer young, Lu Wenming still couldn't help but feel a sourness in his nose.

It was too hard to endure.

He didn't know how many more days of this he could bear, and could only grit his teeth and persevere.

Stepping into the room in leaky shoes, he had just pushed open the door when a fellow student inside called out: "Brother Lu, are your clothes wet? Hurry and change into a dry set, it's time to eat—the owner of the house just came by and said he'll take us to the ancestral hall shortly; Song Xiaoniangzi has prepared food."

Lu Wenming knew that this Song Xiaoniangzi was someone Han Li had hired to manage the meals in Hua Prefecture this time, though he didn't know how she managed it or why such a young lady was hired, but right now he truly had no energy to spare for criticism.

Hearing there was food to eat and he wouldn't have to chew dry rations anymore, he hurried to the bedside, quickly changed his pants, took off his shoes, and was about to walk barefoot when the student beside him said: "There are new shoes here, Brother Lu, wear these!"

Lu Wenming looked and saw they were a pair of wooden board shoes, very crude, but with high heels; in such rainy weather, his feet wouldn't easily get wet, and they were more breathable.

He was a little surprised and asked: "Where did they come from?"

"The master of the house said they were bought and sent by Song Xiaoniangzi according to Han Li's instructions."

After speaking, he pointed to a chair by the bed and said: "Our clothes and shoes have been washed and dried too—don't say anything, I was just worrying about it; today I'm wearing my last set of clothes, if I wash them they won't dry, and if I don't wash them I have nothing to change into!"

Lu Wenming went over and touched them; sure enough, the clothes and shoes were not only clean but dry to the touch, and even slightly warm, probably dried not long ago.

Clearly, it was just a set of clean clothes, shoes, and socks, plus a pair of wooden board shoes—things not worth mentioning on ordinary days—but at this moment, they dispelled much of the vexation in his heart.

The two put on their shoes and hurried to the ancestral hall.

Song Miao and Da Bing had been waiting inside the ancestral hall for a while; seeing people slowly arriving, she returned to the kitchen, stir-fried several pots of cauliflower with lard, and then began to boil soup.

Clear soup was the quickest to make.

There was already a large pot of boiling water on the side; she heated an empty pot, used a little base oil to gently fry ginger slices over low heat, then added dried shrimp and stir-fried them slowly to bring out the seafood aroma. Since pepper was too expensive, she was reluctant to use it, and instead added a little Sichuan pepper to stir-fry with them.

Once the aroma was fully released, she poured the boiling water into the pot, boiled it briefly, then scooped out the ginger slices and Sichuan pepper to discard. She added a small circle of fish sauce, then tossed in three or four toasted sheets of purple laver.

As soon as the laver went in, she closed the stove door, then raised her hand high and poured the beaten egg liquid in a circular motion to disperse it. She only added salt and oil when the pot was lifted off the stove, then sprinkled a handful of scallion grains.

A large steamer basket of buns, a large pot of soup, and several large sand pots of rice were placed on the table. Though all were covered with lids, the aroma still kept slipping out from the gaps.

So after everyone dried their heads and bodies, washed their hands, changed into dry clothes, and arrived one after another wearing wooden clogs and board shoes, before even entering the door, their noses couldn't help but sniff deeply.

It was the aroma of cured meats, with a faint smokiness, and a hint of half-fermented, half-cured wine scent.

Having been hungry for a day, upon smelling such an aroma, who could still bear it?

Everyone rushed in in a swarm.

Song Miao smiled and greeted everyone, saying: "Young Master Han specifically instructed this morning, saying you've all worked hard these past few days, and asked me to make some hot food—truly, there's nothing to be had here before and after, and with rain blocking the road, I couldn't buy anything, so I had to make do with whatever I could scrounge. I hope everyone will be forgiving."

She added: "Since it's Young Master Han's own money subsidizing this, the funds are more than enough. If you're not full, just come find me; it's all my fault!"

While speaking, she had already followed Da Bing to lift all the pot lids at once.

Even with the lids on, the aroma was already impossible to contain. At this moment, as the lids were lifted, in that instant, many people sitting nearby had the steaming hot aroma hit their faces, and their eyes widened.

In each large sand pot, cured sausage was sliced thin, revealing an oily bright red color between crimson and date-red. The cured meat was also sliced thin, half fat and half lean. The lean parts were amber-colored and oily, while the fatty parts were directly transparent, crystal clear and oily bright.

The rice had absorbed the oil forced out by the cured sausage and cured meat slices cooked over high heat in the sand pot, and was stir-fried then simmered, making it especially tempting, with each grain distinct.

Bowl after bowl of rice was portioned out in front of everyone and placed on the table.

After a few token courtesies, the group fell upon the food like fierce tigers, grabbing their chopsticks.

Lu Wenming, over forty years old, burst forth with the speed and strength he had at twenty.

He was so hungry his eyes went red, snatching food with a group of youngsters, all signs of his earlier exhaustion gone. He shoved a mouthful of rice into his mouth, chewed it haphazardly twice, and swallowed it down—but just after swallowing, he began to regret it.

In his mouth, a host of delicious things were wrestling, each with its own merit. The cured sausage slices carried a sweet, mellow wine fragrance; the cured meat slices had the salty aroma after smoking. A bite of tender yet chewy lean meat—the more he chewed, the more fragrant it became, the texture and flavor tightened, requiring several more chews to slowly release. Then another bite of glistening fatty meat.

That fatty meat, after curing, fermenting, air-drying, and smoking, and cut to just the right thickness, was no longer genuinely greasy when eaten, but rather an indescribable flavor—not greasy, not fatty, crisp, truly bursting with oil, incredibly fragrant.

The carrots and scallions were both very sweet and had been cooked soft. When eaten, they rolled from the tip of the tongue to the root of the tongue, then down into the throat. Relying on their naturally fresh sweetness, they went head-to-head with the oily aroma of the other cured sausage and cured meat, fighting back and forth evenly.

Even more excessive was the rice. The grains were plump and full of rice aroma, but they had also absorbed the essence of the cured flavors, carrots, scallions, and shiitake mushrooms, carrying a rich salty-fresh taste and a clear sweetness. With one small mouthful, likely from near the bottom of the pot, it even carried some scorched rice.

That scorched rice was about as thick as a single grain of rice, its color even a shade deeper than golden yellow, amazingly fragrant. Chewing it went crackle crackle, crisp and crunchy, not sticking to the teeth at all.

Not hard-crisp, but purely crispy-crisp. As the teeth came together, the oily aroma exploded in the mouth—so fragrant it made one inexplicably feel deeply sinful, as if eating a few more bites, even if one died right then, would be no pity.