Chapter 50

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

Song Miao took the bamboo shoots the porter handed over and tested them at the very spot he had pinched.

Indeed very tender.

Right now spring bamboo shoots are in season; they are needed for vegetarian shao mai too, and looking at the shape and size of these small shoots, they are very suitable for making stuffed bamboo shoots.

This is a dish she has liked since childhood, but the fresh bamboo shoot season is short and the preparation of stuffed bamboo shoots is rather troublesome, so she hasn't had it for quite a while.

These past few days incidents have occurred frequently, and Song Miao feels very weary; although it is troublesome, she still plans to buy something she loves to eat to replenish herself.

She rummaged through the small shoots in that bamboo basket; they looked like a lot, but added together they amounted to just over ten catties, so she negotiated the price with the porter and bought the whole basket.

People who love bamboo shoots all know: for winter shoots it's three liang of meat per catty, spring shoots are better, but getting half a catty of meat per catty is already something to secretly rejoice over.

This basket, after setting aside what's needed for tomorrow's shao mai, the remainder will probably only be enough for her to eat two meals.

Having bought the small shoots and goji leaves, Song Miao couldn't be bothered to go back and unload the cart first; she simply took the cart into the fangzi, bought the meat and vegetables she needed, and only then returned home.

But she had only gone halfway when she heard a burst of urgent horse hoof sounds ahead, and someone shouting to clear the way.

The road here is not wide, and the cart takes up space; Song Miao knew she was in the way, so she hurriedly looked at the road, wanting to pull aside in advance.

The rider opposite had also spotted the cart here early on and slowed down in advance; when he got closer, the man on the horse suddenly exclaimed "Eh?" and called out: "Stall Owner Song!"

The voice was full of delighted surprise.

Song Miao looked up and saw that the man on the leading horse was indeed an acquaintance — it was actually He Qi.

Early in the morning, a perfectly good student not attending class — why is he galloping a horse in the middle of the street?

She was a bit surprised, and returned a greeting.

Upon seeing Song Miao, He Qi's face broke into a smile; he didn't even stay on the horse, immediately vaulting down, and asked: "Why is Stall Owner Song here? Is everything all right?"

Song Miao heard there was more to his words, which made it even stranger, and replied: "I'm fine, I was just about to go home — but why does Young Master He ask like this?"

Hearing that she was fine, He Qi finally looked like he had let out a breath of relief, and said with a smile: "You didn't set up your stall this morning, and the news spread throughout the Taixue: they say you were arrested by several patrol officers, person and cart together, and no one knows the reason; fearing you might be bullied inside the patrol station, Cheng Zijian sent someone to find me."

"I happened to have requested a few days' leave at home; when I got the news, I worried something had happened to you, so I came by to take a look."

He spoke lightly in a few sentences, but Song Miao knew it couldn't be that simple; she hurriedly thanked him, and added: "Young Master He specially requested leave, yet I've troubled you to come running out; I fear it delayed your proper business."

And said: "It was just a bit of small trouble, already resolved; Young Master should go attend to your matters first, and when I have the chance later, I'll come properly to express my thanks!"

He Qi chuckled and said: "What proper business could I have? Just some messy household affairs, finished early, otherwise I couldn't have come out."

His party totaled four riders; the other three followed, and at this moment they all dismounted and came over.

He Qi casually handed the horse's reins to one of them, and told that person: "You go back and tell Cheng Zijian at the Taixue Lower Hall that I've seen Stall Owner Song, she's safe and sound, I'll send her home in a bit, tell them to set their minds at ease!"

Song Miao hurriedly added: "If it's convenient, please trouble the young man to also pass a message: these few days I have some matters, so I temporarily can't go to Food Alley to set up my stall; please let them know too, so they don't make a wasted trip."

The attendant took the reins, agreed at once, and rode off on the horse.

After the man left, Song Miao said to He Qi: "Young Master He really doesn't need to escort me; even if your household matters are finished, you still have to go back to class — how can you linger here?"

He Qi giggled and said: "I managed to get leave, I still have to stay home a few days; I'll go back to class after they finish the public examination."

Song Miao was stunned for a moment, a vague guess forming, but she didn't dare ask.

He Qi didn't wait for her to ask; he explained himself, rubbed his nose, saw the followers weren't close, lowered his voice and said: "I'm using this as an excuse to skip the exam!"

He looked very pleased with himself.

Finished speaking, he rubbed his belly and looked at the steamer baskets on the cart Song Miao was pushing, and asked: "Stall Owner Song, is there anything left on this cart? I'm starving, I haven't eaten breakfast!"

As he spoke, he already took the initiative to step forward and grab the cart handle, then said: "I'll push the cart for you, you take out some food for me, how about that?"

Song Miao hurriedly stopped him: "It's all sold out!"

She summarized the matter in a few words, then said: "Ahead there's a shop selling chicken shredded noodles; I heard the taste is quite good; shall I take Young Master He to try it?"

He Qi listened, frowned and thought for a long while, first ignoring the chicken shredded noodles, and only asked: "Do you want me to go back and find someone, think of a way, and say hello to the dutou at the patrol station?"

Song Miao's acquaintance with this He Qi wasn't very deep; moreover, from his tone and his usual words and deeds, although his family background was good, he didn't seem like someone who could make decisions for himself, so she didn't want to trouble him.

She shook her head and smiled: "Today those patrol officers have already invited me to set up stall in their back alley; moreover, after the Taixue public examination ends, it's a holiday, and Food Alley will have a couple of days' gap anyway; I'll change locations first, and we'll see about the rest later."

"That bunch of rascals even dare to barge into a private residence; there's likely someone backing them; your trouble, I'm afraid, isn't really resolved yet." He Qi was anxious on her behalf, "And right now the ones letting you set up stall are just ordinary patrol officers; their words may not hold; what if one day someone higher up comes and tells you not to go anymore — what will you do?"

"Furthermore, if they deliberately tricked you into cutting ties with our group first, then later if anything happens no one will know — wouldn't that leave you entirely at their mercy?"

He Qi analyzed it all, and finally concluded: "For these few days just forget it; anyway I'm still at home, I can't eat... cough, after a few days when the exam is over, you'd still better go back and set up stall in our back alley at Food Alley!"

Between people, there really is a sense of good or bad feeling in the heart.

Song Miao didn't feel those patrol officers were scheming against her, nor was there any necessity — if they really wanted to do something, there are plenty of other methods.

But this He Qi is ultimately well-meaning, and what he says isn't without reason, so she agreed along with him.

As they spoke, they had already arrived at that chicken shredded noodle shop.

Song Miao pointed to the shop diagonally ahead to the right, and said: "There, that one; today I'm treating, inviting Young Master He to eat a bowl of chicken shredded noodles, how about it?"

He Qi followed her gesture and looked over; he only glanced once, then turned back to look at Song Miao, wanting to speak but stopping.

"Is it that you don't like eating noodles?" Song Miao also caught on, "Then what does Young Master He want to eat? It's a pity it's neither early nor late; many restaurants probably haven't opened, otherwise we could find a good restaurant and order a few dishes."

At this point He Qi could no longer hold back, and said: "What's so good about food made outside! I was too embarrassed to mention — Stall Owner Song, whatever you have at home, just give me a couple of bites to make do!"

"I heard from the people Wang Geng sent that these few days while I'm on leave at home, the shao mai and glutinous rice you saved for me, I couldn't eat any of them! It's killing me!"

And said: "They also had pig trotter rice, and taro braised pork belly, and I didn't get a share of any of them! Couldn't even beg for them, nowhere to find them!"

He complained endlessly, and by the end his mouth was pouting.

Song Miao couldn't help laughing, and said: "Me cooking is the simplest, but we still have a ways to walk back, and cooking would take more time; I'm afraid Young Master would suffer from hunger."

"Where would I starve to death!" He Qi hurriedly declared.

"Then what would you like to eat?"

"Anything is fine, I'll eat whatever there is! Since when does someone eating for free get to be picky!"

That He Qi complained again: "These past few days at home, taking advantage of my return, they've done nothing but stuff me with chicken, goose, and mutton — it's terribly greasy. The kitchen steward got orders from Grandmother, and fearing I'd get internal heat, mostly steams and boils everything — what a waste of good meat. I've eaten until I haven't an ounce of appetite — my liver and lungs are perfectly fine, where's this supposed fire-heat coming from!"

Although he said this, Song Miao naturally couldn't just fob him off with whatever ready-made food was on hand.

She thought for a moment — the rice wouldn't be done in time, it takes too long; baked cakes and steamed buns take even longer.

As for noodles, that He Qi just now didn't want to eat noodles; whether he truly didn't want them, or just didn't want ones made outside, she didn't know.

Spotting a rice noodle shop in the distance, Song Miao asked: "How about I stir-fry some rice noodles for Young Master He? Cook them in lard, toss in shredded lean meat, stir-fry over high heat until fragrant, and add some tender mustard green hearts."

She added: "I'll use the round fine rice noodles, add plenty of cornelian cherry — spicy and hot — so it won't feel so greasy. Pair it with spring bamboo shoots — spring bamboo shoots go perfectly with fried eggs — and serve a bowl of boiling soup. Though it's a bit simple and slow, it wins on speed — what a pity there's no pepper, otherwise the fried eggs would be even more fragrant."

As she spoke, He Qi swallowed repeatedly, and hurriedly said: "All good, all good! Where's it simple and slow! Just listening makes it smell fragrant!"

Hearing there was no pepper, he got so anxious he nearly jumped up, and said: "My family has some!"

Speaking, he hastily turned and instructed the person following behind him: "Dongzhi, ride your horse faster, hurry back and find me some pepper! Quick! Quick!"

That person acknowledged busily, and sure enough mounted his horse, wheeled around, and galloped off swiftly.

Once the man had gone far, that He Qi suddenly stomped his foot: "I was stupid! If I'd known, I'd have told him a few more things — told him to bring some other ingredients and seasonings!"

Even though Song Miao had long known this He Qi was particularly fond of good food, she was still startled by his swift and decisive manner, and hurriedly stopped him: "No need, we have everything else at home."

The two walked along chatting, just idle talk.

He Qi wasn't old, but his personality was very lively; yet his upbringing was also very good — he spoke and acted with a proper sense of propriety.

He couldn't get hold of Song Miao's cart handle, so he earnestly helped by pushing the cart body from the side.

When they reached that rice noodle shop, Song Miao bought some raw noodles that had already been boiled and soaked.

She deliberately chose round noodles of medium thickness; unsure of He Qi's appetite, she specially asked for two extra portions.

Once back at Suanzao Alley, Song Miao opened the door, parked the cart properly; He Qi hadn't entered yet, but was hesitating outside for a moment.

He had brought three people; two had already been sent away; now only one remained.

"Beizhi." Taking advantage of Song Miao walking away, he hurriedly called that servant over: "This is my first time visiting Stall Owner Song's door — I can't go empty-handed. You go outside and watch for suitable things to buy."

That Beizhi acknowledged busily, found a place to tie He Qi's horse, and immediately rode off on his own horse.

By the time Song Miao came out carrying stools, she saw only He Qi left outside.

She didn't ask further, just served tea and brought out some fried wrapped items.

He Qi took the tea, but refused to eat the food.

"I'm not hungry, I can hold out!" he vowed solemnly. "This belly of mine is saving room for the rice noodles Stall Owner Song stir-fries!"

Seeing Song Miao was just then preparing ingredients, he crowded up close and said: "Let me help out too — what can I do?"

Song Miao brought out a small bamboo basket and asked him to help peel bamboo shoots.

Certain he mostly wouldn't know how, she even demonstrated twice.

He Qi indeed had never done this work, but after watching twice he got it; he peeled slowly, but very cleanly.

He finished peeling one, specially brought it to show Song Miao, and asked: "How's that? No mistakes, right?"

Once he got Song Miao's nod, he became even more enthusiastic, didn't even drink his tea, just lowered his head and kept peeling bamboo shoots.

Seeing he had something to occupy him, Song Miao no longer paid him mind, and busied herself.

She first opened the stove door and lit the fire, rinsed the fine noodles in clear water several times, until not a trace of cloudiness came out, then set them in a bamboo sieve to drain; then she took out the various ingredients.

Front leg meat — lean, not fat — cut into threads; carrot, scallion, pickled vegetable also cut into threads, but slightly finer than the pork threads; ginger, garlic, scallion minced; then mustard greens, washed clean, and she indeed picked out the most tender hearts from the middle.

Once the side dishes were all ready, she took out four chicken eggs and beat them scattered with chopsticks.

Looking at He Qi again at this point, he had only peeled seven or eight small bamboo shoots.

Song Miao went over to lend a hand, and together they made ten-odd shoots — roughly enough for one plate of vegetables.

By now the fire was already blazing; two stoves, the water on the left was already boiling.

She blanched the small bamboo shoots in salt water for a while, ran them through cold water, smacked them with the back of the knife, quickly cut them into flat little granules, and left them to air; for now she didn't stir-fry them, but turned to look at He Qi and said: "Not missing that bit of pepper — why not eat this first to pad the stomach?"

He Qi was already so hungry he was drinking tea; at this he could hold back no longer, and hurriedly nodded: "Next time I get the chance, I'll come eat with pepper added..."

With that one sentence from him, Song Miao immediately put the lard in the wok.

Hot wok, warm oil; first stir-fry the ginger and garlic mince, once the fragrance comes out scoop them out, then add plenty of crushed cornelian cherry.

Cornelian cherry is pungent and spicy; very quickly a spicy-hot oil flavor chokes out — at this point add the meat threads, just wait until they slightly change color, then pour in the carrot threads and scallion threads, and sprinkle in a pinch of base salt for seasoning.

The several vegetables are cut with particular thicknesses, all still only about thirty percent cooked; Song Miao then put the drained round fine noodles into the wok, and added salt and soy sauce to season.

Her left hand kept adding vegetables and noodles to the wok one by one, while her right hand wielded the ladle without stopping for a moment; because it was a large stove, she couldn't toss the wok, so she just kept stir-frying continuously.

Whether stir-frying rice noodles, or noodles, or rice, the most crucial thing is fierce fire and fast hands.

Only by stir-frying fast enough will the heat be even, only then can the seasonings thoroughly penetrate, and better lock in the food's aroma.

The stove was blazing hot right now, fierce high fire; Song Miao had also added ample oil — the pork lard fragrance mixed with the cornelian cherry's spicy choke, plus pork aroma, scallion aroma, and the aroma of stir-fried rice noodles — the rice noodles pressed by hot oil, mixed with the other ingredients, sizzled continuously in the wok; truly fragrant beyond measure, full of wok aroma.

She deliberately stir-fried the noodles until they had a touch of scorch — that scorch was just the right state — and with the soy sauce, made the flavor extremely fragrant; especially the rice noodles stir-fried over fierce fire completely absorbed and wrapped up the lard and sauces, then lifted by the cornelian cherry's pungent spice — truly both choking and spicy and fragrant.

Stir-frying a wok like this actually took hardly any time at all — just the space of a few sentences — but by now the whole room was already filled with the aroma of stir-fried noodles and that oil smoke.

Even Song Miao was choked into stepping back; He Qi not only didn't retreat, but instead swallowed saliva and hurriedly crowded to the stove side, unable to help crying out: "This is too fragrant!"

So fragrant he went dizzy.

But the dizzy person hadn't stood there long before he was also choked into coughing straight away.

Song Miao hurriedly added half a ladle of scallion, stir-fried a couple more times, then plated it and handed it to He Qi, sending him off: "You eat this first."

He Qi held the plate, excited beyond measure, but still knew to ask: "Stall Owner Song aren't you eating?"

"I've eaten already, not hungry right now, you eat yours." Song Miao said, and handed him a pair of chopsticks.

The stir-fried noodles plated out, the wok was clean and dry, no excess oil, no burnt bottom.

Song Miao washed the wok, and using this same stove added oil again, using hot wok cold oil to stir-fry those half-dried bamboo shoot granules.

The bamboo shoots hadn't dried long enough and still carried moisture, crackling in the pot; after stir-frying for a while, the water was finally fried dry, but once dry, the bamboo shoot fragrance slowly rose.

Song Miao added a little salt, stirred it evenly, then scooped out the bamboo shoot granules and poured them straight into the egg liquid, stirring a few times; once the oil temperature in the pot rose, she immediately put them back into the pot.

The beaten egg liquid met the extremely hot oil and instantly expanded, bringing the aroma of pan-fried eggs, hissing loudly.

The portion of bamboo shoots was not small, divided evenly with the egg liquid; having already been stir-fried in oil, they had released the bamboo shoots' own fragrance, and now, pan-fried by the hot oil, the half-contained fragrance burst forth again.

The eggs were pan-fried to a golden brown with lard, so the fragrance was naturally rich, but the egg's fragrance was a gentle fragrance, while the stir-fried bamboo shoots' fragrance was a clear fragrance—completely different from the earlier stir-fried rice noodles with cornel, more homely, yet equally tempting.

Once the egg and bamboo shoot granules were fragrant on both sides, Song Miao used the ladle to divide them into six, then pieced them back into their original shape and placed them into a plate.

By then the water in the pot beside her had boiled; she first added oil and salt, then put in the washed wolfberry sprouts, and as soon as they were just softened, she ladled out the soup.

He Qi carried the stir-fried rice noodles over; although starving, he actually held back from eating, specially found a plate and washed it clean, and had just divided out a small portion when Song Miao brought the dishes and soup over on a tray.

He smiled and pointed at the small portion that had been divided out, saying: "This stir-fried rice noodle is too fragrant! No matter what, I couldn't keep it all to myself; I want to share some with Stall Owner Song to taste."

Before his words had finished, when he saw the tray before him, his eyes lit up.

It was a plate of pan-fried egg with bamboo shoot granules as round as the fifteenth moon, golden and glistening, browned yellow, with many bamboo shoot granules showing in the middle—the shoot tips white, the shoot centers yellow, the shoot tails tender green—all carrying the oil sheen and slight browning from pan-frying, complete in color and fragrance, making one's appetite open wide at a glance.

There was also a bowl of wolfberry sprout soup, not a trace of meatiness, even the oil was clear oil, simply the taste of wild branches on the mountain—the stir-fried rice noodles with cornel and pan-fried egg with bamboo shoot granules were both rich in flavor, while this wolfberry sprout soup was used to clear heat and cut grease.

Song Miao smiled and said: "Young Master He, eat first; I truly am not hungry. If you can't finish, just set it aside for now."

Hearing this one sentence from her, He Qi could not wait another moment; he seized his chopsticks, picked up a bite of stir-fried rice noodles, and sent it to his mouth.