Chapter 267

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

Soon, He Lao Furen's reply came again: "Good, good! Don't rush, jumping up and down like a monkey, blocking my eyes."

As soon as Song Miao entered the Second Gate, she saw several people under the eaves; He Lao Furen was seated, with a small ice mountain behind her, and two maidservants each had a small low stool and were also seated, fanning her gently with fans, while smiling and watching the performance over here.

Zhu Jie'er called out "ai ai," stamped her feet, honestly stepped aside, then looked at Xiao Lian and said urgently: "Let's speak louder, don't be afraid!"

Two maidservants, two old nannies, several attendants, and He Lao Furen and Zhu Jie'er all looked over at once; Xiao Lian was actually a bit timid, but when she looked up and saw Song Miao, then turned to see Zhu Jie'er, she steeled herself, introduced herself, and said: "... I have memorized thirteen chapters of the 'Inner Canon of the Yellow Emperor,' and identified over a hundred medicinal herbs from the 'Classic of Herbal Medicine'..."

Her voice was still a bit weak, but as soon as she finished answering, Zhu Jie'er led the applause, saying very seriously: "Xiao Lian spoke wonderfully, much louder than just now when she spoke for the first time!"

For a moment, everyone under the eaves clapped along with her.

Xiao Lian's face turned red; though a bit embarrassed, she was mostly relieved.

Tomorrow she would go to meet Doctor Lin, recommended by Chen Laoxiansheng; her heart was full of anxiety, and her mother kept urging her to perform well and not disappoint the Young Lady and the old teacher's kindness—such a rare opportunity, if missed, she would regret for a lifetime.

Although she knew this was reasonable, besides reciting those books over and over—though she couldn't memorize much, as the medical books contained too much content, and she could only rote-memorize many things, reciting slowly, with no other choice—she grew increasingly anxious.

Ever since becoming friends with Zhu Jie'er, although they couldn't meet all the time, they could correspond often; sometimes Young Master He or people from the southeast and northwest branches helped deliver letters, sometimes servants from the He family who came to deliver letters brought them back.

They just chatted about family matters—what they ate, what they learned, what they did, and what they would do next, plus words like "I miss you, do you miss me, you don't miss me as much as I miss you"—the letters went back and forth without urgency, slowly and leisurely.

This last letter was different from before; she mentioned the scheduled day to meet Doctor Lin, and after expressing her worries, she received Zhu Jie'er's reply the same day; then the He family sent an invitation card; the next day, that is today, Zhu Jie'er came with He Lao Furen to visit.

Because Zhu Jie'er said that at this time reciting more books wouldn't help much, it was better to make time to practice her courage; it was better than having knowledge in her belly but being unable to speak when the time came; even if she had no knowledge, looking impressive and speaking fluently would make her more likable.

—As a result, they practiced for an entire afternoon.

Zhu Jie'er was the one in charge; not only did she direct who stood where and who played what role, she also designated who would ask what questions—she had drafted two long pages of questions yesterday, consulted several doctors, and now brought them out to "practice."

As they practiced, Xiao Lian felt she hadn't improved much—after all, what she didn't know she still didn't know—but when standing before people, compared to before, she was much better! She dared to speak!

Seeing that they were practicing seriously behind her, Song Miao stood for a moment, did not go forward to disturb them, and was about to avoid them, when Zhu Jie'er turned around and saw her; with an "aiya," she ran over on her short little legs, calling out "Song Jiejie" in her mouth, and circled around Song Miao acting coquettishly: "Jiejie, we've been busy all this afternoon, and you've been watching just now!"

She also said: "Xiao Lian has worked so hard, and I've worked very hard too—can Xiao Lian and I eat an extra pigeon tonight? Grandmother is so good and dotes on us so much! Brother Qi is also good; he read books this afternoon! They also want to eat an extra pigeon each!"

After Zhu Jie'er finished speaking, she turned back and looked expectantly at He Lao Furen.

Having received her granddaughter's approval, He Lao Furen was about to speak but closed her mouth for a moment; meeting Song Miao's gaze, she thought it over and still nodded.

Song Miao had long heard He Qi say that because Zhu Jie'er had not been properly nurtured in the womb and was born prematurely, her nails hadn't even grown fully; she had been weak since childhood, especially with a weak spleen and stomach; once she ate a little too much, she was prone to indigestion.

Because meat was especially hard to digest, the household strictly managed her and did not allow her to eat more.

Children are often greedy for tasty food, and Zhu Jie'er was no exception; but she knew not to make things difficult for the maidservants and nannies; whenever she craved something, she would proactively ask the adults who could speak before eating more.

After He Lao Furen nodded, she hesitated for a moment; perhaps feeling that eating an extra whole pigeon was too much, she added a sentence to make up for it: "Then you and Xiao Lian share one pigeon; don't just think of yourself and eat it all alone."

Hearing this, Zhu Jie'er pouted and said unhappily: "Grandmother, why have you been looking down on me lately! Am I, Zhu Jie'er, such a stingy person? I was originally going to share it with Xiao Lian; you say this, and it breaks my heart!"

He Lao Furen laughed heartily and waved her hand: "Wrong, I was wrong! Our Zhu Jie'er is on good terms with Xiao Lian and is generous; without others reminding her, she will proactively share it herself!"

She also laughed and said to Song Miao behind her: "Young Lady, choose the fattest one for them; just consider this old woman making amends to the young ones!"

Zhu Jie'er was easily coaxed; hearing that she and Xiao Lian had gotten the fattest pigeon, she immediately cheered up, circled around He Lao Furen just like before, repeatedly saying things like "I knew Grandmother was the best," and after saying a few sentences, she slapped her head and said: "Aiya, distracted by the pigeon, I almost forgot the serious business—Grandmother, you still have many questions to ask!"

"You say: Hmm, she can be considered somewhat willing to learn; as for that Xiao Lian, recite a few herbs from the 'Classic of Herbal Medicine' for us to hear!"

While saying this, she kept staring at He Lao Furen, urging her to put on a serious face; after urging her, she urged He Qi who had come in to either hurry back to the front to study or quickly come over and sit, not to stand idly in the way; she also used her gaze to encourage Xiao Lian, and while busy, she stole a moment to send Song Miao a pouting smile, as if saying: "Look quickly, am I great, quickly praise me, Song Jiejie!"

Song Miao smiled and nodded vigorously at her, then stepped aside to avoid disturbing the "serious business" here.

Seeing that the time was not early, Song Miao went to the back kitchen.

The kitchen had many multi-layered shelves; on the shelves, layer upon layer, were bamboo-woven large winnowing baskets; and Da Bing was weighing meat jerky and dried cuttlefish together with two female helpers, then sealing them with oil paper and pasting labels with flour paste.

After Song Miao entered, she asked a few questions, checked the meat jerky situation, estimated the time, and called Da Bing to go to the front to help prepare dishes and tend the fire.

He Lao Furen did not order any dishes; she only told Song Miao to watch her cook, saying that she, her grandson, and He Qi just needed a simple meal, and not to treat them as guests, but just as an exchange between children and elders; but Song Miao naturally would not be so neglectful.

Although the staple food today included char siu steamed buns, because He Lao Furen usually liked rice, Song Miao still prepared rice for her.

There were three main guests at the table; besides He Qi, the other two were one old and one young, with small appetites; Xiao Lian was a companion guest and barely ate anything; the main dish was roasted pigeon, and the rest depended on what came; the quantity of dishes could not be large, but the variety could not be few.

Knowing that He Lao Furen and the others had seen many good things at home, and that her shop was ultimately small and could not compete on ingredients, she simply decided to only make home-style dishes.

Roasting meat required fire, and soup required lowering the heat; Song Miao prepared to stew dried cabbage and pork bone soup; the dried cabbage was slightly cool, clearing heat and benefiting the intestines; the pork bone was neutral in nature, nourishing yin and moistening dryness; she also added a small handful each of northern and southern apricot kernels to moisten the lungs and stop coughing, plus dried figs to strengthen the spleen and moisten the intestines, some soybeans, a piece of dried tangerine peel, two honey dates, a piece of fresh ginger smashed flat; boil over high heat, skim off the foam slowly, then simmer over low heat slowly.

Once the soup was on, she could free her hands to do other things.

When the two people had done half the work, Cheng Erniang and Zhang Siniang, who had gone out to buy ingredients and deliver various foods, also returned; one went to the back to help turn and portion the meat jerky and dried cuttlefish, the other helped here as an assistant; additionally, Wang Sanlang, after parking the cart, feeding the mule, and thoroughly cleaning the cart body and wheels, found a corner and went to fetch water and chop firewood, and moved things around here and there without end.

Song Miao, with Zhang Siniang and Da Bing helping her, soon prepared all the dishes that needed to be made; thinking the back kitchen should have been cleaned by now, she instructed the two to move all sorts of things to the back, preparing to cook in the back kitchen to avoid oil smoke affecting the guests' appetites.

After the fire was lit, she arranged for Zhang Siniang and Da Bing to go select ingredients themselves to prepare meals for the He family and He family's attendants.

"See what's usable, and each of you cook a table of dishes with what you're good at."

Both were cooking for guests with their own hands for the first time; they immediately became nervous and each busied themselves.

When Song Miao had them helping, she was naturally relaxed; now only she was working alone, just as skilled and at ease; she stir-fried what needed stir-frying, pan-fried what needed pan-frying, finished everything according to the time He Lao Furen had previously instructed, without the slightest delay, and invited the guests to the table.

Leaving aside the grandmother for now, the granddaughter had run back and forth and kept using her brain, and was truly hungry; as for He Qi, he had held two books and read all afternoon, and was also long hungry; so one big and one small both raised their heads together, staring at the Second Gate waiting for the dishes to be served.

The first dish was naturally the roasted pigeon.

At noon they had already roasted a batch, making a group of scholars wish they could write biographies for it; as soon as it was served now, before even leaving the Second Gate, the aroma had already drifted out, causing He Lao Furen, who had been sitting upright, to take a deep breath and look up.

The skin of the roasted pigeon was a caramel yellow slightly heavier than golden, oily and bright; the whole body was wrapped in a thin layer of oil forced out by the hot charcoal; at first glance, it seemed not even as thick as paper, truly like cicada wings; through the skin, the meat juice below flowed very slowly in a layer of gap between the thin skin and tender meat that had been roasted out.

This dish was served by Song Miao herself.

She placed the hot plate on the table and explained softly: "This roasted pigeon is especially hot; eat carefully. Originally it should be cut into pieces, divided into two or four portions, but once cut, the meat juice would run out; I thought I'd better ask first—should it be cut or not?"

"I won't cut it; I want to see for myself how the meat juice runs—but Zhu Jie'er's fat pigeon should be cut."

Since they sat at a square table that was not large, He Lao Furen didn't need the maidservants to help arrange the dishes, and even felt they were in the way; hearing Song Miao introduce it this way, with sharp old eyes, before she had even finished a sentence, her chopsticks stretched out and immediately clamped the roasted pigeon at the head of the table into her own bowl.

He Qi also hurriedly followed suit, clamping one for himself, and said: "I don't need to cut it either; I have a big mouth, I know how to gnaw it myself!"

Only she herself admitted to having an equally large mouth, yet because she wanted to share with Xiao Lian, she had no choice but to wait for Zhu Jie'er to finish cutting, occupying the side table, so anxious she nearly stamped her feet.

When the carved pigeons were brought over, one old, one grown, and two young, they almost simultaneously blew on them together.

The pigeons were scalding hot; before they even neared the mouth, the heat rushed onto the face, the skin extremely thin, crisp, that crispness even carrying a hint of dryness inside, chopsticks touching it would emit a distinct "crack-crack" hard friction sound.

He Lao Furen held two pigeon legs, originally intending to tear one off and gnaw a bite first, to taste the flavor, but the moment she tore it open, with a "pop," scalding meat juice mixed with oil nearly spurted out, almost spraying her face.

She was startled into dodging, then hurriedly threw the pigeon back into the bowl; after confirming it was a false alarm, she let out a breath, and at this moment looked down to find the bowl bottom had already accumulated a thick layer of juice.

But even though this much had already been lost, when she finally truly bit down, her mouth was still full of juice — the meat juice burst forth, truly describable as magnificent, scalding, bright, salty-fresh, not a trace of greasiness, smooth with a touch of perfectly proportioned oil richness, incredibly fresh and sweet.

Another bite, the skin thin and crisp, fragrant beyond measure, inside the pigeon meat fine and tender, even the breast meat not the least bit tough — seventeen-day marvelous-age pigeons, the meat fibers not yet fully grown, fat-lean proportion just right, juice abundant, absolutely no getting stuck in teeth, even for an old lady like He Lao Furen, biting was very easy.

Seasoning exceptionally good, marinating even better, not a hint of bad gaminess, the marinade penetrated thoroughly, even the thickest meat parts fully flavored, even sucking the bones carried fragrance, yet the thin meat layers would not be overly salty, or the seasoning taste too heavy.

This seasoning made one unable to taste any superfluous spice flavors, the mouth full of only salty-freshness and the meat's own fresh fragrance, simply as if only salt had been used, highlighting nothing but the meat aroma.

The pigeons roasted too fragrant, too tender, every bite oozing oil, dripping juice, clearly six whole pigeons, yet everyone at the table still ate with lingering desire.

But by now dishes had already been served one after another — the soup had long been uncovered and set out, very rich and mellow, a few sips, from the throat all the way down, moistening to the belly.

One plate of char siu, fresh out of the oven, extremely fragrant, fatty but not greasy, leaving fragrance throughout the mouth.

One small dish of chrysanthemum heart stir-fried pork strips, the chrysanthemum heart tender, crispier than bean sprouts, juicier, the pork strips only lightly tossed with soy sauce, stir-fried extremely tender, one bite meat fragrance, one bite chrysanthemum heart clear fragrance.

Also another small plate of stir-fried bitter melon, this dish stir-fried first, then returned to the wok to stir-fry again, sufficient oil but not greasy, stir-fried soft and cooked, bitterness returning sweetness, sweetness within bitterness, clear and bitter — Xiao Lian, Zhu Jie'er refused to eat, He Qi frowned disliking it, only He Lao Furen kept nodding, frequently moving chopsticks, almost eating it clean.

Also sour-sautéed lotus tips, stir-fried fresh, sour, crisp, tender, lotus root clear fragrance abundant, additionally Zhu Jie'er's requested straw raincoat cucumber, and the perilla cucumber He Lao Furen wanted to eat more of.

After-meal dessert was one small bowl of rock sugar mung bean soup drink, sweet just right.

The three finished eating, clearly full, yet Yu still felt insufficient; before departure, Zhu Jie'er hadn't even spoken yet when He Lao Furen already took the lead saying: "Tomorrow we'll see what Doctor Lin says, regardless, I'll send someone to ask, let us know first — if there's good news, tomorrow night I'll still bring Zhu Jie'er to congratulate Xiao Lian!"

He Qi couldn't interject, could only desperately signal Song Miao with his eyes, while nodding, also kept pointing at himself with his index finger to indicate.

The three ate an early dinner, rode away in a carriage, the sky still broad daylight.

Just sent the people off, the front hall still tidying and sweeping, Song Miao didn't need to lift a hand herself, was just about to drink two sips of tea then go to the back to sort out division of labor, when she heard an excited voice from outside.

That person called through the door: "Song Xiaoniangzi, are you in or not? It's me, Lao Xin!"

Song Miao heard this, hurriedly put down the tea cup in hand, went out to look, and sure enough Xin Feng stood outside the door.

He no longer used a cane, at this moment grinning, standing outside the door, seeing Song Miao come out, an extremely happy and proud appearance, pointing at a middle-aged person beside him, loudly said: "Look who I brought you — a craftsman from Niuhang Street, surname Gan, he makes stoves! Song Xiaoniangzi didn't you say you wanted a big stove?"

"Come, go to the back courtyard to see, whatever kind you want to build, discuss with him — your sister-in-law already paid the bill, this stove, she's having it built for you!"