Chapter 6

Inside the house, Mrs. Liu was shouting, “Cui’er! If you don’t eat, there won’t be any left!”

Xue Cui dashed back inside like a gust of wind and started wrestling with her nephew over the last portion of sugar water.

She was determined to find out just what made it taste so good.

Xue Cui was stronger and managed to take a sip of the syrup. “Must be something Shen Qing taught that Xiao woman. Let Father go ask him!”

Mrs. Liu let go of her grandson. “We’ll ask your father when he’s back.”

The Xue mother and daughter pair were clearly scheming something. The three daughters-in-law, however, all wore different expressions of discomfort.

***

Even if Xiao Wanling had known about the Xue family’s intentions, she wouldn’t have cared. Making Immortal Tofu was simple and easy to learn, but that was far from all she knew.

She quickly caught up with Shen Qing and proposed, “Shen Qing, let’s buy a cart.”

Shen Qing had no objections. The silver was hers now—she could do whatever she wanted with it. Once the village head returned, he’d hand over the tax silver. Remembering he still owed a delivery to the restaurant, he made a swift decision. The ox cart was necessary. He’d need to head back into the mountains and fetch the grey wolf, too.

Xiao Wanling immediately handed him the money pouch. “Also buy two water buckets. Get the cheapest rice you can find, as long as it hasn’t gone moldy, it’s fine.” Old rice was best for rice cakes. It made them fluffier and less sticky.

She gave him a thorough list of instructions, which Shen Qing nodded and memorized one by one.

Xiao Wanling slung on her basket and went to gather stevia and grass jelly herbs. She picked and washed mulberry leaves to dry in the shade.

Then she turned to the half-finished bamboo bathhouse. Behind the house was a pile of wood and bamboo.

She milled the remaining rice and cornmeal into flour and began experimenting with rice cakes. She started layering sticky rice paste with corn paste. Two pots boiled side by side—one for steaming, one for syrup.

The finished cakes were set aside to cool, with a basin of cold water beneath them to speed things up.

Then she split some bamboo to weave into a basket.

On the nearby slope, Aunt Wu was clinging to a mulberry tree, panting from the climb.

She had brought over a bolt of hemp cloth. Xiao Wanling counted out 350 copper cents. The money she just earned is spent again.

Aunt Wu didn’t fuss too much. “I’ll bring the scissors and thread over later.”

She clapped her thighs and muttered that she’d almost forgotten her basket at the bottom of the slope. Xiao Wanling and she worked together to carry the basket of beans, grains, radishes and cabbages up the slope.

Xiao Wanling poured her a cup of tea from a bamboo tube. “Take a break, Aunt Wu.”

She also wrapped three snowy white rice cakes in banana leaves. Aunt Wu immediately said she was taking them home to let the whole family have a taste.

The fresh radish tops could be pickled. The cabbage would do for buns. The mountain really was rich in resources, even in summer; cool shaded areas could grow leafy greens and root veggies.

As for yeast, there was no rush. That would take time.

The sun went down, and Shen Qing wouldn’t be back until the next day.

Xiao Wanling ate and turned in early.

—

When she woke the next morning, she felt refreshed. She steamed a new batch of rice cakes and prepped her ingredients and tools for the day.

She was just worrying about how she’d manage the stall on her own without Shen Qing when the village head’s son arrived with several village men. “Shen Qing asked us to help you carry things.”

Xiao Wanling gratefully nodded and thanked them sincerely. Before they left, she gave each of them two pieces of rice cake.

The men had never seen such soft, fragrant white cakes. They brought them home like treasures, eager for their wives, children, and parents to taste.

The tea steward passed by and caught a whiff from afar. “Smells good even from a distance.”

Xiao Wanling recognized his voice and turned with a smile, uncovering two rice cakes and setting three bamboo tubes on the counter. “Fresh out of the steamer!”

He took a bite and slowly chewed. Such delicate treats he’d only had in city restaurants. He never expected to find something like this at a mountain village tea stall. That Shen Qing kid really had luck on his side.

Soon, morning workers swarmed the stall. The steward chuckled. “Madam Xiao, save me three portions for lunch.”

(T/n: All the woman in ancient china were called according to their maternal family surname. i.e. Madam Xiao)

She nodded with a smile. “Got it.”

Jiang Ting squeezed to the front, sniffing deeply. “Two sweet ones for me! And two of those white cakes.”

She placed her clay jar on the stone and glanced around with darting eyes. All the jars and crocks were covered with banana leaves or cloth. This Xiao woman wasn’t careless.

Xiao Wanling scooped a bowl of chopped Jade Tofu into a jar, poured in syrup, and wrapped up two rice cakes. “Eight cents please.”

Jiang Ting paid but didn’t leave. She squatted outside with Xue Cui, whispering conspiratorially.

Aunt Wu and her daughter-in-law approached, chatting and laughing. When she saw them, she clicked her tongue. “Trying to steal recipes again? That’s how she feeds herself! Have some decency!”

Xue Cui jumped up as if stepped on. “Who’s stealing? Do you have proof?”

Aunt Wu’s daughter-in-law, carrying food in her hands, panicked. “Lower your voice, people are watching.”

Xue Cui stood her ground. “I didn’t steal anything, so I’m not afraid!”

“Xue Cui! You are still dawdling? Work’s started!”

The tea steward had his hands behind his back, voice booming. “Do you want this job or not? The other stewards keep asking who that wandering girl is—I’m embarrassed to admit you work under me!”

Villagers picking tea and mulberry leaves all laughed. Xue Cui’s face turned beet red. She glared at them and kicked a pebble before storming off.

Xiao Wanling chuckled and went back to work. The rice cakes sold like hotcakes. Since she was running low on plain rice paste, she used the remaining cornmeal to make a two-layer version.

A skinny man approached the stall. Xiao Wanling remembered him. “We still have some Jade Tofu. Sweet or savory?”

“Sweet. Any rice cakes left?”

“Yes.”

She handed him a bamboo tube and a rice cake wrapped in banana leaf.

The pot was about ready. She uncovered it and poured in another layer of cornmeal paste.

The man stared in awe. He’d never seen snacks like these before and made a note to come back at lunch.

She made a three-layered batch, sliced them in half and then portioned them evenly.

It wasn’t even noon yet and she had sold out. Immortal Tofu, Jade Tofu, Grass Jelly, all gone. Children came from the village only to return empty-handed.

Xiao Wanling washed the jars and cleared out the stove ashes. The village head’s son came to help pack up again. “Let me know if you need anything.”

It was stiflingly hot outside. She went home, took a bath, changed into clean clothes, and grabbed a nap.

Then she locked the door, slung her basket, and covered her head with a blouse as she went to look for wild herbs. The Stevia and jelly herbs by the roadside had already been picked clean. The mulberry leaves at the entrance were now out of reach.

So she headed toward the mountain behind the house with her heart pounding. It was a wilder area, rarely trafficked. Rumors said a tiger once attacked someone there during winter.

But it was summer now so food should be abundant. She had even spent the night out here before. That thought helped her relax.

She heard the sound of water and followed it, soon finding a crystal-clear stream. The breeze carried a cool, refreshing touch. She could see small fish and shrimp swimming in the water.

Following the stream uphill, she found a patch of wild celery.

She carefully pinched off handfuls of stalks, leaving the roots so they could regrow.

Suddenly, a rustling noise came from behind. She glanced back but saw nothing. Uneasy, she quickly made her way home.

That evening, she sliced some oil-preserved meat and stir-fried it with wild celery. Once the pan dried, she drizzled oil along the edges, rendered the meat, and added blanched celery. The fragrance of dinner filled the air.

Just as she finished making it, someone called her name. She looked up to see Shen Qing returning, arms laden with goods.

He had sacks of grain, two water buckets, a sewing basket. It looked like he was a walking supply shelf. Xiao Wanling burst out laughing. “Wash up, it’s time to eat!”

Shen Qing unloaded everything under the eaves, splashed water on his face and hands, wiped his arms, and hung the towel on the line.

The table held meat-fried wild celery, roasted fish stuffed with radish and cabbage, and a dish of golden pickled vegetables.

Shen Qing scooped up a bowl of spicy tofu salad, perched on the stool, and began shoveling food into his mouth. With every bite, his eyes grew wider.

The entire meal vanished in few minutes. Even Xiao Wanling, who knew his appetite, was shocked. It was like he hadn’t eaten in days.

She mixed flour and water, covering the bowl with another one to let it rest.

Shen Qing washed the dishes, fetched water. “Wanling, I’ll go bring the ox home from the village.”

“Alright.” She sat at the table grinding rice flour, thinking about making him new clothes from Aunt Wu’s hemp cloth. Aunt Wu had stayed up late sewing it as it was meant for trade.

She soaked and washed the cloth, remembering her earlier mention of making soap. Shen Qing had brought it up several times.

There was pig fat on hand. She’d seen lotus and wild chrysanthemums by the river. She’d crush and strain them, then mix with wood ash. What she needed now was shells.

Shen Qing returned just then. Xiao Wanling told him, “Next time you’re by the river, bring back some clam shells.”

Clam meat was so fishy that no one liked eating it, but Shen Qing nodded anyway. He was already leading the ox down to drink.

The old ox snorted and tried to yank free to munch on jelly grass. Shen Qing gave a light tug and the ox, pained, reluctantly moved along.

Soon, Shen Qing returned with a half-basket full of clam shells.

Xiao Wanling took some meat, cleaned the shells, and tossed them into the charcoal to burn.

Shen Qing tied the ox to a mulberry tree and came over. “Can we eat the meat?”

“We can,” she replied, washing her hands. “But we’ll need strong-flavored seasonings like yellow wine, chili, Sichuan pepper, ginger, and garlic to cut the fishy taste.”

Shen Qing paused. “What do those look like? I’ll bring them back from the mountains.”

Xiao Wanling described each one carefully, drawing rough shapes on the ground with a stick.

He memorized it all, then went behind the house, and the sounds of hammering and clanging soon filled the air.

She chopped radish into bits, salted them, and steamed a pot of radish cake (Dim Sum) for dinner.

After two hours of work, Shen Qing placed a wooden bathtub at the door with a proud grin. “See if it fits.”

The long-awaited bathtub was finally done. Xiao Wanling rushed over. “It’s perfect!” So he had been making it behind the house all this time.

At last, she enjoyed a long, hot soak. Grinning, she sat beneath the eaves, drying her hair.

When Shen Qing came out, she proposed, “We’ve got a ox cart now. I’ll make more snacks and tea, so we can sell them at the market. Next time you go into town, bring some along.”

Shen Qing paled at the idea of being swarmed by people, hesitating. “You’re not coming with me?”

“I can,” she said. “Once I’ve closed the stall. We’d have to rush back before night.”

He shot to his feet. “I’ll go get the cart from the Xue family!”

Xiao Wanling tugged his sleeve. “The road’s too narrow.”

Shen Qing scratched his damp hair. “Then… we’ll build a road?”

Translator’s Note:

Meat-Fried Wild Celery:

Roasted Fish Stuffed With Radish And Cabbage:

Golden Pickled Vegetables:

Radish Cake: