Braised pork, a dish that requires plenty of meat, sugar, oil, and spices—in short, an expensive dish—rarely appears on the dining tables of ordinary people, yet many have heard of its reputation.

One of Lin Yue’s childhood dreams was to eat a meal of braised pork during the Lunar New Year. This wish had lingered since he first heard the name of the dish as a young child, all the way until his teens, when his family’s financial situation improved. Only then did his mother steel her resolve, grit her teeth, and buy a palm-sized piece of meat. She then sought out a master chef who knew how to prepare the dish, and only then did the dish finally make its way onto the Lin family’s dinner table.

Lin Yue still remembers that evening: the oil lamps on the table were lit brightly—two of them, in fact. Right in the center of the table sat a small earthenware bowl, filled to the brim with braised pork, glossy and bright red, its sweet aroma irresistible.

The whole family was overjoyed that day, even though it had cost a fortune, and for the two months before and after they ate the braised pork, not a single trace of meat was to be found in the house.

The family of four sat gathered around the table. Each person picked up a piece of braised pork the size of a thumb—marbled with fat, though the fat outweighed the lean meat. The juices dripped from the meat, soaking into the rice and infusing it with that rich, sweet aroma.

With just that bowl of braised pork, Lin Yue ate a full three bowls of mixed-grain rice that evening; he even mixed the last bit of sauce with his rice to finish it off.

This dish, which appeared only once, became Lin Yue’s favorite. Later, he saved up money to buy some meat himself, but his mother wouldn’t let him, saying he should save the money for future use and not spend it recklessly.

Although Lin Yue knew his mother was right, he was still very upset. However, later on, he and Lin Yang went to town together to sell pastries and the fruit from their home, earning quite a bit of money. This time, his mother finally didn’t stop him.

Although the second serving of braised pork didn’t seem quite as fragrant as the first, he still enjoyed it very much.

As Lin Yue stirred the meat in the pan, memories of the past suddenly came flooding back. He felt a pang of homesickness. Next time he went back, he’d buy a few pieces of meat—his parents and Lin Yang must be craving braised pork too.

He cut the pork belly into large chunks, blanched them to remove the gamey smell, and stir-fried them in the wok until the fat rendered out before removing them. He then scooped out half the rendered fat into a jar to save for cooking, and used the remaining fat in the wok to caramelize rock sugar. Once the sugar had caramelized, he added the pork belly back in to coat it with the color, then seasoned it with wine and soy sauce. Finally, he added hot water along with the spices, scallions, ginger, and garlic he’d prepared earlier. Bring to a boil over high heat, then simmer over low heat.

As the firewood crackled and burned, steam began to rise around the pot lid, and an enticing sweet aroma filled the air.

Tender, glazed braised pork, rich spare rib soup, and a bowl of sliced cucumber and baby bok choy—this was the Shen family’s dinner tonight.

As soon as Song Xunchun and Shen Zhengchu arrived outside their own courtyard, they caught the scent. Song Xunchun even sighed, “I wonder whose house is stewing meat tonight—it smells so good.”

To their surprise, the aroma grew even stronger as they pushed open the courtyard gate—it was their own home.

The two washed their hands and went back inside. Looking at the food on the table, they exchanged glances, both stunned. Today’s meal was almost better than what they’d have during the New Year or at a banquet—dishes like spare ribs and braised pork belly were usually served only one at a time on such occasions.

Song Xunchun knew at a glance that this must have cost a pretty penny. She thought to herself: I’d better give Yue’er a little extra allowance. At the rate the household is spending, he won’t be able to save any of the money he earns.

Seeing that the two of them weren’t moving, Lin Yue hurriedly called out, “Dad, Mom, come in and eat! What are you standing there for?” Shen Zhengchu laughed, “The food looks so good today that your mother and I were just staring in amazement.”

Shen Lingzhi nodded vigorously. “Me too! The braised pork my brother made smells absolutely amazing—it’s even better than the food at a banquet!”

At a banquet, there are at least eight people per table, and a bowl of meat would disappear the moment it was served—especially when sitting with children, Shen Lingzhi simply couldn’t compete with them.

When Lin Yue served the rice, he only filled three bowls. “Father, Mother, Lingzhi, you eat first.”

Song Xunchun had just picked up her chopsticks when she put them down again, looking puzzled. “What’s going on? Who prepares such a huge spread and then doesn’t eat any of it themselves?” Shen Zhengchu and Shen Lingzhi also looked at him with puzzled expressions.

Lin Yue quickly shook his head. “Mother, I just thought that Huaizhi has been coming home late these past few days and has been eating dinner alone, so tonight I wanted to wait for him.”

Usually, Lin Yue would keep the food warm in the pot and not wait for him, but tonight was different—he really wanted to wait for Shen Huaizhi to return before eating.

Song Xunchun immediately said, “In that case, let’s wait a little while too. Huaizhi should be back in about half an hour. Let’s wait for him together.”

Lin Yue shook his head immediately. Waiting was his own choice, and besides, he wasn’t that hungry yet. But Shen Zhengchu and his wife had been working in the fields all day—how could they possibly delay their meal any longer?

“Mother, really, there’s no need. You two go ahead and eat. I’ll go out to meet him in a bit; he’ll be back just in time for dinner.”

Song Xunchun was still hesitant. After a long pause, she finally spoke: “All right, I’ll take your word for it. Has the meat been served yet? We need to put it in the pot to keep it warm right now. That way, you’ll have something hot to eat later. If it cools down and we have to reheat it, it won’t taste as good.”

Lin Yue nodded. “The meat and vegetables are all set; just the spare ribs are missing. But since this is soup, it cools slowly—it’ll be just right by the time we eat.”

By the time Lin Yue met up with Shen Huaizhi, they were almost at Yushui Village. From a distance, he could see Shen Huaizhi coming toward them with his bookbag on his back, muttering to himself.

Lin Yue waved in his direction, only to be met by a stunned Shen Huaizhi.

The moment Shen Huaizhi saw Lin Yue, he was completely taken aback, his mind racing with the thought, “Has something happened at home?” He immediately ran up to him, grabbed Lin Yue’s hand, and asked urgently, “Why are you here? Has something happened at home?”

Lin Yue looked even more bewildered and shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to pick you up. We’re having braised meat for dinner tonight. I’m waiting for you to eat with us.”

Shen Huaizhi finally let out a sigh of relief, then added, “Why didn’t you eat first? I’ve been coming home late these past few days, and it’s almost dark now. Don’t wait for me next time.”

“It’s not like I wait for you every day. All right, let’s hurry home. If we delay any longer, the food will get cold.”

Back home, the kitchen had already been tidied up spotless, and the kettle on the stove was nowhere to be seen—perhaps Shen Lingzhi had gone back to his room to wash up.

Lin Yue quickly set the food on the table and served Shen Huaizhi a bowl heaped high with meat. “Try some. I think today’s braised pork should taste pretty good.”

Shen Huaizhi was a bit surprised to see the food on the table, but he didn’t say anything. He just silently served some pork for Lin Yue as well. “You really didn’t have to wait for me. If you’d like, just keep me company while I eat.”

Lin Yue nodded half-heartedly; after all, he wasn’t free every day.

Still, he felt a pang of emotion. Studying was no easy task. After a long pause, he spoke up to comfort him: “It’s no big deal. The eighth day of the month is coming up soon, and by then you won’t have to come home this late anymore.”

Lin Yue’s words of comfort didn’t seem to help; Shen Huaizhi visibly grew more anxious. Having studied for over a decade, he knew he wasn’t a prodigy. Just passing the Tongsheng exam a few years ago had been a struggle, and now that he was preparing for the Xiucai exam, he was truly worried he wouldn’t pass.

Still, Shen Huaizhi said, “There aren’t many days left. We won’t even need to get up early on the 8th—we won’t have to on the 6th.”

“Huh? Why?”

Shen Huaizhi took a sip of soup and replied, “The Prefectural Capital is quite a distance from here. If we walk, it’ll probably take the whole day. The exam is on the eighth, so we’d have to leave by the morning of the seventh at the latest. But just to be safe, the teacher suggested we go on the sixth, so we can rest in the Prefectural Capital for a day before taking the exam.”

Lin Yue nodded, leaving on the sixth did indeed make the most sense.

The two chatted casually while they ate, making for a lively meal. After they finished, Lin Yue put down his chopsticks and hesitated. “I remember there are families in the village who raise cattle and donkeys, and some who raise oxen. Why don’t we rent one to pull a cart? We could ride there, which would be faster. Otherwise, if you walk all day, it might affect your performance on the exam, and that wouldn’t be good.”

Shen Huaizhi refused. Livestock was expensive, and renting one wasn’t cheap either. Once they reached the Prefectural Capital, staying at an inn would be another expense—they should save wherever possible. He’d climbed mountains and crossed rivers countless times since childhood; walking for a day was still easier than a day’s farm work.

Seeing that he couldn’t change Shen Huaizhi’s mind, Lin Yue fell silent, thinking he’d discuss it with his parents later. As long as they gave the word, Shen Huaizhi wouldn’t be able to refuse. That night, Lin Yue fell asleep once again under the dim glow of the oil lamp, unaware of when Shen Huaizhi had even lain down on the bed. Before he knew it, it was August, and the corn in the fields had turned yellow.

This time, Lin Yue and Shen Lingzhi’s food stall didn’t take a break because they’d taken on a special order the day before—they had no choice but to go, and they’d even added new items to the menu.

Since the farm work required extra hands, the snack stand—which had originally been run by both of them—was now handled by one person at a time. On the first day, Lin Yue took the shift, while Shen Lingzhi got up early to join Shen Zhengchu and his wife in the fields to harvest the corn.

Lin Yue also got up early to clean the yard, feed the chickens, water the vegetables, and prepare food.

Since making gluten and cold noodles is a bit of a hassle, serving only cold noodles and cold shrimp is too monotonous, and the recent snacks haven’t been very creative either, Lin Yue came up with a new dish: cold rice noodle rolls.

He soaked the rice and glutinous rice the night before. When he woke up in the morning, he boiled the rice into a paste, then mixed in cornstarch until smooth. He lined a steamer with a steaming cloth, spread the rice paste over it, and once the rice sheet became translucent, he lifted it out with a bamboo spatula—and the simple cold rice rolls were ready.

The best way to enjoy cold rice rolls is to fill them generously with fillings—such as mushrooms, ground meat, or wood ear fungus—and then dip them in a sauce. However, preparing the fillings is quite a hassle, so Lin Yue simply cut the rice sheets into wide strips and ate them mixed with a dressing, just like cold noodles.

Running a stall alone is quite a hassle, but fortunately, there weren’t many orders today, and they were all concentrated around noon.

Having set up their stall on North Gate Street for so many days, Lin Yue and his team had become well-acquainted with the family running the steamed bun shop next door. It was common for them to lend a hand whenever one of the other stalls was swamped, so today Lin Yue specifically asked her for help.

“Aunt Zhang, Sister, could you please watch the stall for me for about fifteen minutes? I’ll be right back after I deliver this order.”

Aunt Zhang hesitated for a moment before saying, “Alright, I’ll have Ping help you watch the stall, but if any customers come, she might not be able to handle them.”

Ping is a little girl with a round, rosy face, just over ten years old. She usually comes to set up the stall with her mother and often stops by Lin Yue’s stall to play.

Lin Yue quickly smiled and said, “Thank you, Auntie. Just keeping an eye on things is fine. If any customers come, just tell them the boss isn’t here and ask them to wait a bit or come back another time.”

Lin Yue walked over and slipped two pastries into the little girl’s hands, then poured her a cup of chilled shrimp soup. With a serious expression, he said, “This is a thank-you gift from your big brother for your help. You can’t refuse it.”

Ping was a bold girl. She glanced back at her mother; seeing her mother say nothing, she sat up straight and replied, “Thank you, big brother, but this is too much. Just one pastry will do. The pastries you make are delicious; I really like them.”

Lin Yue shook his head. “If you like them, how can you eat just one? Besides, pastries can be easy to choke on, so having a cup of chilled shrimp broth to go with them is just right. Take it now, or else I won’t ask for your help next time.”

Getting a pastry for doing a small favor was an offer Ping simply couldn’t refuse. “Then next time you ask for my help, you won’t have to give me anything—just consider this payment for that time.”

“We’ll worry about next time when it comes.”

Lin Yue finished speaking, smiled, ruffled her hair, and then turned to leave.

When doing farm work, the day always seemed to pass both quickly and slowly. It felt fast because, despite working all day, the crops in the fields still weren’t harvested; it felt slow because his hands kept repeating the same motion—chopping off cornstalks and grabbing them, shaking the ears loose and tossing them into the bamboo basket. The leaves brushed against his cheeks, arms, and neck, causing a tingling itch after just a moment; when they brushed against his sweat, the sensation turned from itch to a stinging prickle.

Several days passed in this flurry of activity, and before they knew it, it was the fifth day of the month. Shen Huaizhi was set to depart the very next day.