Chapter 69

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

This man took the paper in his hand and compared it against the door lintels of each house; when he saw the few paint-flaked characters on the "Song Family Eatery" signboard, his beard trembled at once, looking very excited.

Seeing Song Miao right at the doorway, he hurried forward a few steps and asked, "May I ask, young lady, is this the Song Family Eatery at the end of Suanzao Alley that sells 'Song's Green Bean Paste Glutinous Rice'?"

Song Miao was startled at first, then replied, "It is, but I wonder what brings you here, old sir?"

The old man's face immediately broke into a smile. "I've come looking for that stall owner Song — wasn't she selling glutinous rice and shaomai behind the Taixue before? My family's younger generation bought some back, I tasted it, and it was extremely delicious. But for some reason, these past two days I haven't seen anyone setting up a stall."

"It just so happens I'm at leisure today, so I came myself to see if I can buy a few portions to take back and eat!"

He asked again, "Does the young lady know if that stall owner Song is in?"

Song Miao smiled and pointed at herself. "I am that stall owner who sells green bean paste glutinous rice."

The old man froze. "So it's such a young little lady."

But as soon as he finished speaking, he immediately asked again, "Why hasn't the young lady set up stall these two days? At this hour, do you still have any glutinous rice or shaomai for sale?"

"Old sir, you've come too late. Today's food was all bought up in advance; right now there's nothing left." Song Miao said.

The old man froze for a moment, looking utterly incredulous. He glanced at the sky and couldn't help asking, "What time is it? I came this early today, yet there are still people who queued before me?"

Song Miao explained briefly, just saying it had been pre-ordered, which was why not a single portion remained so early.

"Truly, good things must be snatched up." The old man sighed, then asked, "Then how can I eat it in the future?"

Song Miao smiled. "Wait until the Taixue public examination ends and they properly resume classes; I'll go back to setting up stall behind Food Alley in the mornings. Since old sir likes it, just have your family come buy then — I'll reserve a portion for you."

Hearing he'd have to wait for the students to return from break, the old man wore an expression as if the sky had fallen. "Waiting for them to start school is far too long. Will there be any tomorrow?"

"There will be, but I have to set up stall at dawn, so I'm afraid we might not meet."

The old man said, "If we could arrange a time for someone to meet halfway..."

But he immediately negated it himself. "Forget it. If something comes up midway, both sides waiting isn't right, not waiting isn't right either."

An old man of such advanced age, so persistent just to eat a bit of my cooking — as the cook who makes it, Song Miao was delighted yet couldn't bear to refuse. "If old sir doesn't mind, I happen to be making breakfast; why not stay and sit a while?"

The old man exclaimed "Ah!" in pleasant surprise, saying, "Wouldn't that be rather rude? Would I be troubling the young lady?"

But even as he said it, his legs moved like a horse's hooves — he actually knew the way on his own initiative, already following along, and stood properly by the door waiting for Song Miao to push the cart in, then very diligently went to pick up the wooden pads from the ground.

By the time Song Miao had steadied the cart, the old man was already holding the wooden board with both hands and had entered the room, asking, "Young lady, where should this be put?"

Song Miao hurried forward to take it. "I'll do it!"

The old man stepped aside. "Look down on whom! In my youth I rode horses and fought wars; even now that I'm older, I'm still far more robust than ordinary people! A mere board is nothing!"

Regardless of his boasting, this old man looked short and thin, his back slightly hunched — he had nothing to do with the word "robust" at all.

Afraid he'd throw out his back, Song Miao hurriedly stepped aside and casually pointed to the nearest spot.

The old man was still quite particular; he placed the wooden board neatly against the corner, patted the dust off his hands, admired his own placement with great satisfaction, and only then sat on the cushion Song Miao brought.

Seeing him settled, Song Miao asked, "Does old sir prefer sweet or savory?"

"Both work, I love both! The guest follows the host's convenience — how can a guest be picky? Just make whatever you were originally going to make." The old man hurriedly said.

Since he put it that way, Song Miao asked no more and went straight to the stove.

Back when she set up stall in Food Alley, students often asked if there were sweet snacks, and some urged her to make Huang Bobo again.

But Huang Bobo is truly laborious to make; the existing varieties already tied up most of Song Miao's energy, so she couldn't really add this one.

However, the variety of foods must change with the seasons.

Especially when the weather turns hot, glutinous rice and the other soups and drinks are fine, but shaomai isn't as suitable — first, it's ultimately a bit greasy; second, bamboo shoots and shepherd's purse are only in season once a year, and afterward there are none.

Earlier there were too many messy matters; she temporarily couldn't free her hands, so she could only shelve it.

Result: yesterday when she pushed the cart out, many passing customers asked again if there were sweet snacks.

Taking advantage of today's stock all being bought by Qin Zong, saving much effort and freeing up time, she thought to try making a new variety.

Since it's for stall sale and a gap-filler, naturally low cost and simple preparation must come first.

As for flavor and appearance, those can be secondary.

Song Miao thought, perhaps she could try Snow Steamed Cake.

This is a sweet snack, ingredients simple and cheap; the flavor isn't particularly outstanding, but it's very palatable — a common breakfast in the south.

But for some reason, Song Miao rarely saw it in the Capital.

Snow Steamed Cake suits young and old alike; even if students don't like it, she could take it elsewhere to hawk and still sell out.

This morning she had already measured and ground both japonica rice and glutinous rice into powder; now she added water, sifted it twice, saw the steamer was already steaming, couldn't be bothered with molds, just laid cheesecloth at the bottom of the steamer basket, layered the sifted fine powder mixed with finely ground brown sugar powder three layers, and put it straight on to steam.

While that was steaming, this thing gets a bit dry on the throat if eaten too much, so it must be paired with a drink or two.

Song Miao freed her hands and started making soup.

Because Qin Zong said his portions of soup only needed white radish, in the end there were still some ribs left, plus a base of pork rib clear soup with white radish.

Song Miao originally planned to drink it herself, but now with an extra person, it wouldn't be enough.

She thought a moment, took a yam that Sun Lizheng had sent over the past few days, peeled and cut it into sections, and moved it into a small pot to braise together with the rib soup.

While Song Miao worked here, the old man watched with great interest; when she finished, he smiled and said, "I can also tend the fire, young lady — why not step aside and let me watch the fire?"

An eager, raring-to-go look.

Remembering this old man's earlier boast of being "robust," Song Miao didn't dare believe it for a second. She hurriedly stopped him: "It'll be ready in a moment, old sir just needs to sit a bit longer."

The old man looked quite disappointed, looked left and right, and said, "Little stall owner, your room is too simple. Doing business, you should still be particular — how about I write you a 'Fortune and Treasure Enter' central hall scroll?"

He boasted again: "My horsemanship and archery may be ordinary, but my calligraphy is very presentable."

Song Miao smiled, pointing at the two stoves before her. "Old sir jokes. I have pots set up here, fires burning; every day it's heavy oil and heavy smoke — what calligraphy or painting could withstand such damage?"

"What's the big deal? When it gets dirty, I'll just write you another one!" The old man didn't think much of it. "It's just that my large-character brushwork is ordinary; otherwise I could even write you a signboard!"

As he spoke, he actually became serious, tapping the bench before him with his knuckles, closing his eyes, shaking his head for a moment, then suddenly opening them and saying: "Got it, I'll write you a 'vulgar yet elegant' one..."

But before his 'vulgar yet elegant' hall couplet could be recited, he saw Song Miao lift the steamer basket lid, and instantly a faint fragrance wafted out.

That fragrance was a very simple, gentle rice aroma, blended with a faint, elusive brown sugar scent.

The old man instantly fell silent, completely forgetting what he was about to say.

Song Miao didn't even use a knife to cut it; she directly took the ladle, scooped a piece of snow steamed cake into a plate, paired it with a pair of chopsticks, brought it to the bench before the opposite side, and said: "Old sir, help me taste first — is this sugar too much or too little?"

The old man immediately took the chopsticks, picked up a corner of the snow steamed cake, and put it in his mouth.

Warm, a very comfortable rice fragrance.

Two kinds of rice ground into extremely fine flour, steamed out exceptionally light and soft, snowy white, very soft, fluffy yet not scattered, with a touch of that thick willow catkins, pre-rain heavy clouds mouthfeel.

The fragrance was particularly pure, without a trace of seasoning flavor.

The rice itself has a faint sweetness; as you chew, that clear sweetness emerges, just feeling slightly bland, the next bite brown sugar rolls into your mouth — turns out the snow steamed cake is two layers of japonica and glutinous rice flour sandwiching a layer of brown sugar.

Brown sugar is truly fragrant!

Brown sugar fragments were melted by the steam, releasing a strong sugar fragrance, seeping upward and downward into the rice cake, but not seeping deeply; eating the brown-sugar-permeated rice cake parts is especially fragrant and sweet, with a slightly firmer chew, and sometimes where brown sugar was sprinkled more, biting down gives a flowing pulp sensation.

The old man blew huffing and puffing, finished a ladleful of snow steamed cake, comfortably let out a long breath, his feet even involuntarily shifting into a comfortable extended posture.

When he came to his senses, seeing Song Miao across from him watching him, he reacted and hurriedly said: "Delicious! Truly delicious! Such a comfortable steamed cake! As expected, the five grains nourish people!"

Song Miao barely held back from sighing along, only able to ask: "Old sir still hasn't told me — is this sweet or bland?"

The old man froze, thought seriously, and said: "Seems just right, yet also seems a bit bland, but eat another bite and it seems sweet enough."

He muttered to himself, hurriedly lifted the plate before him, handed it to Song Miao, and said: "Young lady, give me another piece, this time I'll definitely carefully taste whether the brown sugar is too much or too little!"

Song Miao could only give him another piece, but this piece was much smaller; when passing it over, she specially added: "After all it's rice food, eating fills the belly, old sir don't stuff yourself."

Looking at the soup pot now, sure enough it was top-grade Rong County yam, but boiled for a moment, a chopstick inserted could easily pierce through.

She then ladled another bowl of soup for that old man.

Radish and rib soup as base, yam added in, the soup's flavor one can imagine is very sweet and fragrant.

Yam strengthens the spleen and nourishes the stomach; though shape remains, eating it is already extremely soft, tongue and upper palate alone can dissolve it, those ribs also braised very rotten, meat fragrance completely boiled into the soup, meat texture a bit indistinguishable.

Simply empty form, actually completely soft and rotten mouthfeel a bowl of soup, perfectly suits that old man's mouth with only half his teeth left.

He ate a breakfast comfortably, simply didn't want to leave, incessantly sighing: "This is the life an old man like me should live! The breakfast one should eat!"

Song Miao smiled: "If old sir likes it, tomorrow have family come earlier."

She gave a time: "Knock on the door, by then I mostly haven't gone out yet."

The old man hesitated, but shook his head, saying: "I'll come myself; these two days the younger generation are all busy with the Taixue examination, afraid they can't spare time to come."

"That's too early." Song Miao shook her head, persuaded: "Doesn't matter one or two meals; wait a couple days till I return to set up stall, eating then isn't late either."

The old man was extremely conflicted, finally saying: "Fine, today I slacked off, tomorrow likely have to go read those scrolls again, may not escape; if I can push it off, I'll come early to ask young lady for food, if not, wait a couple days."

As he spoke, he fished out two handfuls of copper coins from his sleeve pocket, didn't count, casually placed them on that bench, laughed: "Today thanks to Song little stall owner's hospitality, I'm surnamed Chen, this past while have been teaching at Taixue, later if there's anything good to eat, don't forget this old man!"

Song Miao froze a moment.

She had preconceived, always thought this person lived nearby, had a grandson studying at Taixue, especially just now hearing him say "younger generation all busy with Taixue examination," who would have thought he's actually a teacher.

Currently Taixue teachers are also called Erudites, establishment very few, must teach Upper, Lower, Inner three Halls, mostly select those in prime of life, elderly ones not often seen.

This old master before her looks already past seventy, and calls himself surnamed Chen, cannot help but make Song Miao think more.

She couldn't help asking: "Wonder if teacher knows a Taixue student, named Han Li?"

The old man stunned: "You mean Zheng Yan?"

Seeing Song Miao nod, he instantly rejoiced, saying: "Zheng Yan is also my younger generation!"

Song Miao then bowed, smiling asked: "Then old sir must be the Chen Yan Chen Xiansheng who once served as teacher to two Emperors, with students all over the world?"

Just ate someone's good food, immediately praised face-to-face, don't know if that snow steamed cake was a bit sweet, or ate too much rice food, Chen Fuzi actually a bit dizzy, laughing heartily: "Unworthy, unworthy!"

Also laughed and scolded: "Little rascal cunning! Earlier asked him, he still said didn't know you, only accepted that student named Cheng Zijian's kindness, winding around, managed to get some good food — that pig trotter rice, braised pork belly, I all got a bite or two, each very much to this old man's appetite!"

"Had I known, why bother going round and round, from the start should've just reported his name, wouldn't that be much simpler!"

Song Miao smiled: "Also just met two days ago."

She briefly told a few sentences of how the two met, then said: "Originally still wanted to ask that Young Master Han to introduce, now since teacher personally here — this daughter has a presumptuous request, though a bit rash..."

Chen Fuzi waved hands repeatedly, saying: "What presumptuous, I came to your door begging for food, that's not presumptuous!"

Song Miao smilingly told the request about wanting to check the buying bid public notice scroll.

Here Song Miao was entrusting Chen Fuzi for help, in Taixue's teaching hall, several masters also gathered a group of Upper Hall students, saying: "The grading matter, is entrusted to you all."

Taixue Public Examination once a year, but only for Lower and Inner two Halls, Upper Hall students have separate examination, not included, and among Upper Hall students those with excellent grades, inevitably called by masters to help grade answer sheets.

Today grading is Lower Hall's classics and meaning answer sheets.

Started grading from morning, graded straight to afternoon, Upper Hall students only simply ate a few mouthfuls of rice in between.

Grading is extremely tedious, especially those Lower Hall answer sheets each absurd in its own way, in these people's view, truly waste of time, yet cannot decline.

Taking advantage of teachers not present, naturally everyone full of complaints.

However others merely complain answer sheets poor, complain matters trivial, yet one person said laughingly: "You all only know to speak, yet not as smart as certain people, knowing to slack off."

Everyone hearing this looked over, but saw the speaker was actually Cai Xiu, one of the Four Sons.

"Who slacked off?" someone asked.

Cai Xiu smiled, but didn't directly name names, only said: "One person just received a transfer order, you guess who?"

Immediately someone answered: "It's that Han Li, right!"

Cai Xiu laughed heartily, saying: "Still Zheng Yan smart, which time not early early finding excuse to slip away, these many years, who has seen him grading alongside us?"