Chapter 35: Miao Chu Chapter 35: Envy

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

The facts proved that even if Cheng Zijian truly arrived late, it did not affect the others' constant thoughts of the Song Stall Owner's lunch.

As soon as the master dismissed class, six or seven students who had early on scrambled to help carry things rushed out of the Xue Zhai.

"How come Zijian hasn't returned yet? It would be bad if it gets too late!"

"That Song Xiaoniangzi's home is at the end of Sanzao County Alley, separated by two long streets; how could we ask her to push the cart over alone?"

"Should we just not wait for him?"

"Then who would guide the way?"

"He hasn't been there either, has he? Could it be he knows the way? In any case, it's just the tail end of Sanzao County Alley, the Nan Lu Academy rear gate; once we reach the area we can ask around, it's just one alley, how hard could it be to find?"

The few of them quickly made up their minds and together strode out of the Taixue Rear Gate in high spirits, heading toward Sanzao County Alley.

It was indeed separated by two streets; even with them running and hurrying, it took two incense sticks' time before they saw the "Song Ji Food Shop" signboard up ahead.

The signboard was originally gilt, but by now the gold paint had long since fallen off cleanly, the wood was half-askew, and the characters could not be seen clearly.

But the students' focus was not on this; they only stared at the distance between the Nan Lu Academy rear gate and the Song Ji Food Shop, calculating it over and over.

"What luck the Nan Lu people have, no wonder they always want the Song Stall Owner to come back and reopen the food shop — it's just too close!"

"Look at those clusters of flowers and trees blocking it; at a glance it's a dog hole; crawling out and in at that time, how convenient!"

"If we hadn't run fast, a round trip would take nearly half a double-hour; if we also had to eat — eat a bit slower, we might not make it back in time for class."

"It's still too far; we can't ask her to come back and open this food shop, otherwise what would we eat?"

Someone quickly thought of a cunning scheme.

"Actually there's another way: we could also crawl through their Nan Lu dog hole, then we'd only have to pass through their academy to come and go!"

"That would require dodging their instructors."

"Nan Lu's people can all dodge them, so why can't we? Anyway they don't recognize us; even if caught they can't do anything to us!"

"Tsk..."

"Still you, huh!"

"Just say if this idea is good or not! If the food shop truly reopens, will you crawl through or not?"

"If Song Xiaoniangzi wants to open the food shop, I will definitely support it — lunch and dinner will be taken care of!"

"Me too!"

The group chatted and laughed, and soon arrived at the Song Family Eatery entrance; each of them had just been studying how to crawl through the dog hole, but now they turned into bashful, proper scholars who couldn't even bring themselves to step forward and knock on the door.

Song Miao had already prepared the remaining dishes; at this moment she was inside making the sauce.

No matter how it's braised, it's still pork trotter, somewhat fatty; besides the rich braising sauce, she also specially prepared a garlic Zhu Yu white vinegar sauce to cut the grease.

That garlic paste had been soaked in water to remove the garlic stench, so eating it one need not worry about offending others; with white vinegar soaking and Zhu Yu added, using it to dip the meat, one could eat a whole pork trotter without it feeling greasy — even an old pig would want to run far away upon seeing it.

Just as she was ladling it into covered bowls, she heard a knock at the door; Song Miao answered and saw six or seven students standing at the entrance, shy and awkward.

"Song Xiaoniangzi, Cheng Zijian has business with the master and cannot come for a while; we feared you alone could not manage the carrying..." The leader, who had also carried glutinous rice in the morning and was very familiar, said with hands and feet bound in restraint, "But we don't know what we can help with?"

Song Miao smiled and let everyone in, saying: "Everything is already prepared; when we reach the Taixue rear gate, I only need to boil a soup on the spot."

The other party replied: "Where is there so much trouble? No soup is fine too; if soup is really needed, it can be made right here, we'll carry it all together, and the Song Stall Owner won't have to run back and forth!"

The rest chimed in agreement.

"It's vegetable soup; freshly boiled tastes best, otherwise the leaves will turn yellow." Song Miao explained, "Besides, I also need to go out to purchase supplies; it's on the way, no time lost."

Since she put it that way, the crowd, though embarrassed, was even more unwilling to refuse; for a moment they were directed — those carrying things carried things, those lifting things lifted things, and there were also those pushing the cart — and the group went out the door.

Many hands make light work; moreover, young scholars have no lack of strength, and even if strength fell short, that single heart for good food had long since replenished the expended strength tenfold.

Arriving at the Taixue rear gate, the cart stopped; taking advantage of everyone unloading, Song Miao first opened the stove door of that small furnace.

A pot of water had been sitting on that furnace; now she moved it aside, placed a large soup pot on, added base oil and ginger slices and stir-fried salted duck egg yolks.

From afar, raw salted duck egg yolks have no smell, but unexpectedly Song Miao used the spatula to poke them into small pieces and fried them in oil, frying a great many in one go.

Salted duck egg yolks fried in oil for fragrance, compared to chicken egg aroma, have another kind of richer salty freshness; ginger removed their fishiness, as if concentrating the essence of the yolks — the brine had originally refined and refined the essence, pressing it into the salted duck egg yolks; now passing through oil, the fragrance slowly rose from the deep pot bottom, at first mild, then increasingly fragrant, increasingly rich.

The students lifting pots on both sides couldn't help but look over and ask: "Song Xiaoniangzi, what soup is this?"

"Salted Duck Egg Boiled Mustard Greens Soup." Song Miao said, "For clearing heat — I heard Young Master Cheng say you've all had excessive internal heat lately."

She added: "Some might find mustard greens bitter and not to their taste; just treat it as medicine and eat it."

As she spoke, seeing the salted egg yolks were nearly done frying, she put the already washed and broken mustard greens into the pot, gave a simple stir-fry, then poured in boiling water.

It was boiling water to begin with; not long after entering the pot it boiled, drawing out the flavor from the salted duck egg yolks fried into yellow oil, and the soup quickly turned a milky yellow.

Only then did Song Miao slowly add the sliced pork shoulder meat, and without waiting for it to change color, poured in the remaining salted duck egg whites; no more salt was needed, the salted duck egg whites were already enough for seasoning, and she used the residual heat to cook the vegetables and meat inside.

Once the soup boiled, the color turned from milky yellow to clear.

She wrapped the two pot handles with a cloth bundle, moved aside, and said: "Be careful, this soup is done, but the pot is too hot, don't burn your hands."

Immediately two students, while thanking her, stepped forward and carried off the soup pot; as they left they didn't forget to free a hand and wave back at Song Miao again and again.

Seeing all the food had been moved about seven or eight parts, only that leading student from earlier remained standing by with nothing to do; Song Miao took a food box from the cart and handed it to him, saying: "It's Sanzao County Radish Crisp, for cutting grease — after all this meal is a bit fatty."

The student took it in hand, both surprised and delighted, and asked: "Is it the radish crisp from the glutinous rice?"

"The taste is the same, just cut into larger pieces; I pickled it with white vinegar and soft white sugar for two days, very flavorful; this time I added more Zhu Yu, so it's a bit spicy, don't know if any of you don't eat spicy."

"All eat! All eat!" This student didn't even ask, already patting his chest and guaranteeing it; looking around and seeing no familiar faces, he first thanked and saluted Song Miao, then said, "After we finish eating, tonight we'll send these pots back to you."

The two parted words for a moment.

That student, carrying the food box, was about to turn, but used the turning motion as cover; taking advantage of Song Miao's unpreparedness, he conjured a cloth bag from behind his back like a magic trick, "Clang!" threw it onto the cart, then bolted toward the Taixue rear gate, looking back as he ran and shouting: "Song Xiaoniangzi, hurry and collect it; if you don't, how will we have the face to come beg for food and drink in the future!"

Having learned from the precedent of Cheng Zijian forcibly throwing money at her, Song Miao actually already had some premonition, but the other party's movements were truly furtive, and moreover that cart was large — a dead object wouldn't dodge, so there was simply no way to guard against it.

She chased a few steps, then simply couldn't be bothered to chase further, put the cloth bag away properly, sighed, and found it somewhat amusing, just slowly pushing the cart home.

Carrying a food box of Sanzao County Radish Crisp, Wang Chang ran until his lungs panted along with him; looking back, seeing that Song Xiaoniangzi hadn't been able to catch up, he only then dared to slowly come to a stop.

He stood resting for a moment, first letting out a breath of relief, then couldn't help swallowing a mouthful of saliva.

His mouth was dry and parched from running.

He looked at the food box in his hand.

Wang Chang really liked eating the vinegar-pickled white radish in Song Ji's glutinous rice — the taste was different from anywhere else, extremely crisp, the sour-sweet balance particularly good, six parts sour, four parts sweet, and also carrying a spicy flavor.

What a pity the portion paired with it wasn't much.

When he tasted that flavor in the morning, he almost ate it counting each piece.

But right now, here was a whole box of it!

He looked left and right, saw no one staring, and secretly opened the food box.

The fresh vinegar-sour scent of white vinegar-pickled white radish instantly drilled into his nasal cavity, simply waking the nose.

Inside, the radish chunks were cut in the shape of broom heads, vertically sliced through to the root, easier to absorb flavor, and a little tail was left to maintain the shape so they wouldn't fall apart, soaking in the vinegar juice, pale white and glistening moist — one look and you knew they were crisp, one sniff and you knew they were delicious.

The food box even thoughtfully came with a pair of bamboo skewers!

— Who could still endure this!

Wang Chang hesitated no longer, immediately speared a piece with a bamboo skewer and popped it into his mouth.

The moment he tasted it, his mouth was stimulated by the sour-spiciness into secreting saliva nonstop, simply unable to control himself as he chewed frantically.

But the more he chewed, the more saliva flowed.

So crisp!

Truly fucking crisp!

Song Xiaoniangzi hadn't lied to him — it was the same taste as the vinegar radish bits in the glutinous rice, and also his favorite sour-sweet proportion.

The difference was, this time the white radish was cut into pieces fully half a palm in size, completely preserving the white radish's own crisp-tenderness.

The white radish wasn't peeled; the skin-on parts still had a tiny bit of chew, but as soon as the teeth exerted just a smidgen of force to pierce through, they hit tender flesh, extremely crisp — so crisp that upper and lower teeth touching would directly snap it open all the way through, the radish flesh going *guagua* with sound.

Once bitten open, the flavor soaked through with sugar and white vinegar rolled around in the mouth, juice overflowing.

The radish's own spicy-green taste was completely gone, leaving only the gentle notes stirred up by vinegar-sour and sugar — sour, sweet, crisp, tender, spicy — truly beyond what writing or language can express; only by eating it yourself can you experience the flavor within.

Such large pieces of vinegar white radish — Wang Chang ate five or six in a row, simply eating until addicted.

He actually was a little afraid of spice; that spicy flavor had real presence, making one *siha siha* with heat, any more and he couldn't take it, but without this degree something always felt lacking.

Vinegar white radish doesn't fill the stomach, and is especially appetizing.

The more he ate the hungrier he got, and no matter how reluctant, thinking of the food still waiting for him up ahead, he finally mustered all his strength, covered the food box, and hurried off to catch up with his companions — one hand frantically sucking at the nasal mucus the spice had forced out that no amount of wiping could clean dry.

At this time, not a short time had passed since Taixue let out, and the road was full of pedestrians.

Students have always been most proactive about eating; in the crowd many had already finished, just coming out of the canteen, and some had just filled their own rice bowls with food, preparing to return to their study halls to eat.

Everyone was originally walking their own paths, but who would have thought that walking along, several figures suddenly emerged from the road's front corner.

Among them two carried bamboo baskets, two carried soup pots, another two each carried a deep pot, and a person chasing up from behind held a food box.

Such a formation drew everyone's sidelong glances.

Someone spotted a familiar face among them, stepped forward to hail them, and asked: "Where did you get these good things? What's all inside?"

If a good deed isn't shown before others, how is it different from wearing brocade at night?

Perhaps some people of great wisdom could manage it, but the person being questioned obviously couldn't.

This person was just carrying a pot, and answered quite proudly: "Made by the stall owner of Song Ji Glutinous Rice — she said she wants to thank us for helping copy books!"

And added: "I haven't eaten either, won't know what it is until later — only heard it's pig trotter rice."

For a moment the crowd erupted in clamor.

In the morning when that Song Xiaoniangzi gave the copyist gentlemen glutinous rice and shaomai, it had already caused quite a few onlookers, and much discussion.

But those things could ultimately be bought at the stall, even if you had to queue early; no matter how envious, a few sour words about good luck and it was over.

Who knew, this time they actually pushed their luck, endless!

Pig trotter rice!

Just hearing the name you know it definitely won't taste bad, yet that young lady doesn't sell it — want to eat but can't find a place to buy.

Just copying books, is it worth this much!

I can copy too!

The crowd was both resentful and curious.

Class had just let out, everyone was idle.

Once idle, people love watching excitement; well-fed idlers even more so.

Quite a few people immediately followed along, wanting to see what difference that so-called pig trotter rice had from the lu pig trotters others sell outside, just treating it as walking a few more steps to digest.

There were also those holding their own rice bowls originally intending to return to their study halls, who because it was the same road, though not intentional, also tagged along at the rear.

For a time a long, disorderly queue of people trailed behind the several of them.

The several of them didn't bother paying attention, each carrying their loads.

Upon entering the study hall, the people staying behind inside saw them and had already been watching with pierced eyes; they rushed up to welcome them, repeatedly saying "hard work," and pointed out the cleared space with tables and chairs in the middle for the food to be placed.

When the food box lids, pot lids, bowl lids and so on were lifted one by one, the room was simply like a pot exploding — the crowd almost pounced as they swarmed over.

After all, Wang Chang's stomach held enough vinegar white radish to give rise to a sliver of guilt; he hurriedly shouted: "Don't rush, Zijian hasn't returned yet!"

"Leave a few portions for him."

"Just leave a few portions out, no need to wait for him, otherwise the food will get cold, how would that do justice to Song Xiaoniangzi's hard work!"

"Exactly, exactly, Song Stall Owner specially boiled the soup at the door just so the leaves wouldn't yellow — we mustn't let her such kind heart go to waste!"

Speaking, they did not stop their hands at all, snatching one enormous Lotus Leaf Wrap after another from the big pot into their hands, unable to wait even a moment, they hastily opened them.