Chapter 173

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

After he spoke, the attendant beside him immediately agreed, turned, and walked toward the back.

A subordinate official at the same table stood up as well, saying, "I'll go see what there is to eat today."

The two went to the back kitchen together.

It was already nighttime, and since there had been many people coming and going at the station recently, the station runner was incredibly busy, carrying two large pots to deliver hot water to each room. Seeing the subordinate official at the head, he immediately recognized him as the nitpicker from yesterday.

He felt a jolt in his heart, quickly stopped, and said, "Sir, you've worked hard; you're actually so busy you're only coming back now. There are dishes left in the kitchen, and our cook is here tonight. Shall I call him?"

To the station runner's surprise, the subordinate official, who had been so picky yesterday and nearly slammed the table upon learning the cook was absent, now shook his head and said, "No need. Since there are dishes left, we'll help ourselves."

He added, "I see the tea outside is empty. Deputy Commissioner Fa just sat down; hurry and bring a pot."

The station runner knew that "Deputy Commissioner Fa" referred to the Deputy Transport Commissioner and dared not be negligent, hurrying off with the pot.

Meanwhile, the subordinate official and the household servant entered the kitchen. The oil lamp inside was still lit, and they had already begun rummaging through pots and stoves.

The former opened a pot he had been checking, and inside were several bowls of dishes, all rich in oil and red sauce. Having sat in the pot for a long time and kept warm by hot water, the meat was tolerable, but the soy-braised mustard greens and lettuce stem leaves had turned yellow, looking quite unappetizing, so he frowned.

The Deputy Transport Commissioner's household servant leaned over and saw that among the other dishes were many Xun Guan mustard seeds, and a pungent Xun Guan spiciness could be smelled from nearby. He was also troubled, saying, "Sir had stomach pain twice today. At noon he only managed half a steamed bun, and tonight it's been delayed until now. He originally wanted a comforting meal, but why does the kitchen only make such spicy dishes!"

Hearing this, the subordinate official's expression changed slightly, and he asked as if unintentionally, "Is Deputy Commissioner Fa's spleen and stomach not good? I've never heard of this before. This morning I heard him say he had no appetite, and I only thought the food was too bland..."

The household servant said, "Sir, once he gets busy, he always forgets to eat, especially these past two years..."

He stopped there, didn't continue, and suddenly changed the subject, saying, "Tomorrow I'll go say hello to the kitchen and ask them to make one or two light dishes, otherwise Sir won't be able to eat anything!"

The subordinate official said, "I'll handle this matter myself."

He then put on a look of great dissatisfaction, frowning and scolding, "This station kitchen is truly irresponsible!"

If Cook Zhang were here, he'd surely shout injustice until his throat was hoarse!

—I protest!

Who's irresponsible?!

Who the hell said yesterday that my cooking had no flavor?! Wasn't that you?!

Finally I gave it flavor, and now you're saying "this station kitchen," one day this, the next day that—just give me a straight answer!

Unfortunately, Cook Zhang was sleeping soundly in the miscellaneous room and couldn't defend himself.

The two of them made "tsk" sounds and sighed, took the food out of the pots, looked for trays, found one on the central table, and besides the tray, they also saw a food box. Just as they were about to use it to hold the dishes, they opened it and found it also contained food.

The subordinate official disliked it even more, saying, "This station kitchen in Hua Prefecture is truly lazy. Yesterday they packed our food in food boxes, one portion each, but today they only packed one portion, claiming it's too troublesome, and didn't bother with the rest!"

Saying this, he greeted the household servant and, carrying the food box and a tray himself, went out first to deliver the meal to his superior.

In the front hall, Deputy Transport Commissioner Wang Shuji was rather absent-minded.

Seeing the station runner bring tea, he thanked him and asked, "When exactly will the road to Jingcheng open? Do you station people have any news?"

The station runner hurriedly said, "This year the rain has been truly heavy, and the river water has changed course. A tributary has cut right across the official road. Until the water recedes, I'm afraid the road might not open unless we take a detour. However, it's been sunny these past two days and the water is receding. By the time it takes to make the detour, the original road might already be mostly open."

Wang Shuji calculated the days in his mind and asked again, "How does one take that detour?"

The station runner said, "This year the water is high, and the old road might not be passable. I dare not guarantee it. However, a group from the Du Shui Jian in the Capital is staying at our station; they came by the detour. Sir, if you're in a hurry, you might ask them if their route is passable."

Hearing the three words "Du Shui Jian," Wang Shuji made an "oh" sound, pointed outside the door, and said, "All these fences, cloth banners, signboards, tables, and chairs—were they set up by the Du Shui Jian? Are they recruiting people? What's with such a grand display?"

The station runner hurriedly denied, "No, it's Song Xiaoniangzi recruiting people herself."

Because the superior official asked, he had no choice but to relay Song Miao's public explanation exactly.

Wang Shuji had been an official for many years and naturally had some discernment. He had been quite annoyed, but hearing the station runner's explanation, he was actually amused.

After sending the station runner away, a young man sitting to Wang Shuji's right couldn't help but ask, "Uncle, what are you laughing at?"

Speaking to his nephew, Wang Shuji naturally had no reservations, saying, "I laugh that the Du Shui Jian, for no reason, has been forced to borrow a young lady's name."

He added, "Hua Prefecture... the Intendant here is probably a son-in-law of the Min Family of Lu Zhou, right? That man's temperament is well-known—the Du Shui Jian has been assigned a task and has most likely come to Hua Prefecture to help dig channels and manage water. This should be handled by the Zhou Ya conscripting laborers, but instead of using laborers, they're paying to recruit manpower, recruiting up to a thousand at once. It's clearly the Du Shui Jian's intention. Borrowing the name of a cook's wife, not daring to show themselves, nine times out of ten, it's the local clerks making trouble."

Saying this, he couldn't help but add a warning: "Remember, between officials and clerks under heaven, it's never the east wind overpowering the west wind, but the west wind overpowering the east wind. In the future, as an official, if you can't subdue one side, power will slip from your grasp. You'll earn a bad name, gain no benefit, and if things go badly, removal from office isn't impossible."

He gave his nephew several examples, such as in a certain year, a certain person, because clerks falsified public account books, he didn't notice. When the Court sent inspectors, they found the treasury and accounts didn't match, he received a low evaluation. This person couldn't find the troublemaker, so he simply punished all the clerks involved together and ordered everyone to make up the shortage.

The following year there was a great drought. When the Court wanted to open granaries for relief, they found that the grain under his jurisdiction was short by half.

For such a huge basket of trouble, he inevitably lost his position and was demoted, and was even detained by the Circuit Court of Justice and put in prison as a jailer for quite a while.

Just as he was halfway through, seeing the subordinate official bring over a food box, he closed his mouth.

The subordinate official stepped forward, and the nephew hurried to welcome him, helping to lay out the dishes from the tray one by one. As he laid them out, he shook his head and said, "Why are all these dishes like this? Either pickled and salty, or piled with Xun Guan."

He said to Wang Shuji, "Uncle, your stomach isn't good; you can't eat such stimulating food. Why not ask the cook to make two more dishes?"

Wang Shuji shook his head and said, "I have no appetite; nothing tastes good. Why trouble others? Making so many dishes is already hard work. Calling people up late at night, and they have to get up early tomorrow to make breakfast—right now we can't even finish what we have, making more would be wasteful."

He pointed to the yellowed mustard greens among them and said, "It's not entirely inedible. I'll eat this."

Saying this, he indeed picked up a bite with chopsticks and ate it to show the three of them.

Mustard greens absorb flavor, and the vegetable oil and sauce were generous. When just out of the pot, it was actually not bad at all. But now, having sat for half the night, it had become watery, not to mention the sauce flavor had soaked in, and it was already somewhat salty and bland.

—This isn't Cook Zhang's fault; it's everyone's fault for coming back too late. No family's simmered mustard greens can withstand being left like this.

After eating that bite, Wang Shuji said nothing, only drank several large gulps of tea, then silently swallowed two mouthfuls of rice. When he raised his chopsticks again, he no longer dared to pick at the mustard greens, but circled them on the table.

He felt there was no dish he could start with, when he saw his nephew take out a bowl from the food box.

The bowl was half soup, half dish. The soup was thick and white. Fried eggs, white and yellow mottled, and pork with a faint pink tinge lay half-submerged in the soup. There were also several large, long things like date balls, just showing their pointed tips, sprinkled with scallion flowers, half-green and not green, also left for a long time, but still trying hard to look like a fresh garnish.

This dish looked like something his stomach and intestines could eat.

Wang Shuji ladled a spoonful into his bowl and ate a mouthful with rice.

He chewed that mouthful for a good while.

The attendant beside him was very considerate, and seeing this he hurriedly said, "Sir Deputy, since your spleen and stomach are not in good shape, you'd best not force yourself. This humble official sees there are still dishes in the back kitchen; I wouldn't want to trouble that chef to get up. How about I have someone cook and rinse this dish for you?"

Speaking, he made as if to lift the tray and call someone.

Wang Shuji had food in his mouth and couldn't speak well, but he hurriedly raised his chopsticks and waved his hand; after swallowing, he hurriedly said, "No need, no need, this dish is fine, it suits my stomach very well."

Speaking, he quickly ladled another spoonful into his own bowl.

In this spoonful was exactly one Shrimp Jujube.

That Shrimp Jujube was lightly fried; the outer fried layer was only slightly golden brown, and because it had soaked in the soup juice for a long time, it absorbed a bit of the soup.

Meat and Egg Soup was indeed fresh and sweet, but this Shrimp Jujube was made of pure shrimp meat; besides egg white, not even flour was added. At this moment, biting down, the texture was springy and firm.

Because he bit with his front teeth, the four upper and lower teeth seemed to be tightly pinched by something exerting force against each other. After biting through repeatedly, the shrimp meat juice locked inside finally slowly merged into the original Meat and Egg Soup. Beyond freshness and sweetness, there was an added shrimp freshness, and a hint of celery freshness.

The soup was originally comfortably fresh and sweet, but now it could actually become even richer and fresher—simply advancing layer by layer.

Eating this bite of food, Wang Shuji inexplicably felt like when he was a youth, reading a comfortable prose poem for the first time.

At first reading, it was clear and elegant, smooth and fluent, easy to recite. When it reached the climax part later, it was like eating this extremely fresh meatball with egg, meat, and soup all at once—it could actually push up layer by layer, line by line using comparison and rhyme, word by word rhyming. By the end, reaching the conclusion, there was even a lingering aftertaste left in the mouth and nasal cavity.

Such writing, though not as famous as those well-known prose poems, would have another kind of freshness in the heart, making people want to recall it from time to time.

At this very moment, Wang Shuji hadn't finished eating yet, but was already prepared to recall it.

He ate a bite of meat and egg, a bite of soup, a bite of Shrimp Jujube and a bite of rice. He indeed knew how to chew slowly and carefully. While eating, he said to his nephew and the attendant, "You all eat quickly too, have a bite first to tide you over. Today I didn't expect that after the Yellow River changed course, the official road conditions would be so bad, and the river water so turbulent. We were delayed on the way for a long time, causing you to suffer with me."

He also pointed to the Meat and Egg Shrimp Jujube Soup and said, "This dish is Head Vegetable, right? When yours comes up later, hurry and taste it. It truly tastes good and can be eaten often!"

He also said, "We will go inquire with those Du Shui Jian people tomorrow about the route. If we can go, we'd better go early. Arriving in Jingcheng one day earlier means peace of mind one day earlier."

"If we can't go, we might have to stay several more days. We might as well greet the kitchen in the Yi Guan Guan and ask if they can still make this dish. If it's inconvenient, I'll take out some money to compensate them and ask them to work a bit."

Wang Shuji was daydreaming about tomorrow here, while on horseback, Kong Fuyang was daydreaming about tonight.

The matters assigned to him had all been completed. The Zhou Xue candidates had been selected, and they would come to the Yi Guan Guan to report tomorrow morning. Tomorrow's process had also been gone through once, and it was nearly all set.

Everything was ready, just waiting for tomorrow!

A heavy stone in his heart finally fell to the ground. Finally, he was in the mood to eat!

His Meat and Egg! He had tasted both the egg and the meat inside. Truly worthy of Song Xiaoniangzi's skill! Hey! And there were long, long meatballs. Though he hadn't tasted them, their appearance had a slightly golden brown outer skin, and the cut surface was faintly pale. That pale color looked like shrimp color. I don't know if it's shrimp meat balls, but just looking at them, they look delicious!

He hadn't had a chance to eat yet, hehe! I, Kong Fuyang, am here too!

Arriving at the Yi Guan Guan door, he reined in his horse, dismounted, and upon entering first called out "Liu Ge."

The yamen runner Liu Ge didn't come out, probably busy. Kong Fuyang didn't think much of it. He simply didn't trouble the other man, tied up his own horse, patted its buttocks twice, added fodder and water. Then, with a smile on his face, he hopped and skipped toward the back kitchen.

As he walked, he brushed past a servant carrying a tray of food.

Kong Fuyang turned sideways to make way.

Upon entering, he went straight to the central table.

The oil lamp was still lit, the room was still that room, and the table hadn't changed much—only his food box was missing!

Kong Fuyang had been hungry all the way. It was like the sky had fallen. He searched the kitchen once, rummaged through pots and stoves, and only got half a pot of white rice. There was nothing else beside it. Frustrated and anxious, he almost wailed to the sky. At this moment, he finally thought of that servant just now. He didn't remember whether the tray in the other's hand had his Song dishes. He hurriedly turned back and followed the direction of that person toward the front hall.

At this time it was very late. There were only two or three tables in the front hall; the rest were drinking tea. Only one table in the corner had many dishes laid out. Not only that, but the servant from just now was standing beside it, and another extremely familiar food box was placed beside the table.

—It was his food box!

Kong Fuyang still harbored a sliver of hope in his heart. He carefully went up, not too near, not too far, and glanced over.

That glance already saw the bowl in front of Wang Shuji.

The thick white soup in the bowl had only a layer of bottom left. Whether egg or meat, or the long date-like meatballs, all were nearly gone.

He didn't know if it was from hunger or discomfort. Kong Fuyang almost couldn't stand steady. He took a few steps forward, performed a greeting, and almost suppressed the anger in his heart as he asked, "Gentlemen, may I ask—where did this food box, this food, come from?"