Chapter Bonanza (5/10)

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

On board the ship.

Guan Hai and Su Zhixuan each took a seat at the table, while the other went into the kitchen to fetch the food.

“Brother Huangfu, let me handle this.” Su Zhixuan held out his hand.

Huangfu Tieniu handed him the tray, then carried the meals for himself and his husband.

Su Zhixuan looked down at the food. It was simple, but the aroma was irresistible, and his heart, which had been in his throat, finally settled. Only after the food was set on the table did he say, “I never expected Brother Huangfu to actually know how to cook—your skills are that good.”

“You flatter me. As long as it’s edible, that’s all that matters,” Huangfu Tieniu said as he served portions to his husband.

The ingredients on board were very ordinary, and with the hot weather, the vegetables were all shriveled and wilted from the sun, while the meat was either sun-dried or salt-cured. Xianling wasn’t used to this kind of meat.

Tang Xianling poured some cold tea for Tieniu, then took a handkerchief and handed it to him. “Wipe your sweat.”

“Hey, thanks,” Huangfu Tieniu said cheerfully. He took the handkerchief to wipe his sweat, then handed the bowl and chopsticks to his husband. “I cooked this today—go ahead and eat.”

“Then I’ll definitely finish it all!” Tang Xianling said, showing his appreciation.

Guan Hai and Su Zhixuan averted their eyes, choosing not to watch the couple’s interactions, and simply buried their heads in their meals. After just one bite, both exclaimed, “Delicious!” and “It really is delicious—I never expected Brother Huangfu to be such a good cook.”

As scholars, they weren’t completely clueless about food, but cooking was still beyond them. The meal Brother Huangfu Chen had prepared used the same ingredients as the one the cook had made the day before, yet it tasted far better.

“My family runs a restaurant, so I know a little about it,” Tieniu explained.

“No wonder.”

“We’re truly fortunate to have met such a skilled cook on our journey,” said Guan Hai. Originally, it was his argument that had left them without a meal, but now, by a stroke of luck, they’d stumbled upon such excellent cooking—and his guilt and self-reproach had vanished.

Tang Xianling ate his meal; Tieniu’s cooking skills had truly improved.

“Delicious!”

That day, Tang Xianling polished off every last bite. Huangfu Tieniu watched with delight, let out a sigh of relief, and thought to himself: It should have been like this all along—then Xianling wouldn’t have gone three days without eating and lost his appetite.

Three days passed in this manner, with Huangfu Tieniu cooking every meal. Sometimes he’d make a few stuffed pancakes or boil a pot of noodles. There wasn’t much good meat or vegetables on the boat—even the most skilled cook can’t work miracles without ingredients—so this was the best they could do.

That day at noon, the boat docked. The steward announced they would restock supplies, stay the night, and set sail again the following afternoon.

Many passengers disembarked; some went to the small town to buy food, while others headed to an inn to spend the night and take a bath—on the ship, they could only wash themselves with a washcloth; there was no way to take a proper bath.

Tang Xianling and Huangfu Tieniu planned to go ashore to see if they could find a place to take a proper bath. When the two mentioned this, Guan Hai and Su Zhixuan decided to join them.

The four had been sharing meals for several days, and their bond had grown closer. Chatting over meals was inevitable; these two men were both principled and considerate. For instance, when Tieniu cooked for them, the two voluntarily offered to pay him extra cash for his efforts.

Guan Hai was twenty-six this year, and Su Zhixuan was thirty; both were married with families and had come to Lujing to seek out a master and pursue their studies.

Since this town supplied provisions to ships traveling north and south, it was quite large and bustling. Carrying their bundles, the four first found an inn, asked for water to bathe, and after washing up, ordered a table full of fresh dishes.

Tang Xianling ordered extra stir-fried seasonal vegetables—fresh and crisp. Outside the inn, a porter was selling fruit, so Tieniu bought some fresh pears.

“Life on the boat was so dry; now everything tastes delicious.” Tang Xianling took a clean pear, bit into it with a crunch, and found it juicy—not overly sweet, but with that characteristic pear flavor: crisp and sweet with a hint of tartness.

He really enjoyed them; they made his mouth water.

Guan Hai and Su Zhixuan nodded in agreement and went to buy pears as well. Before the meal was served, the four of them munched on their pears, all exclaiming, “If I had to spend year after year living on a ship, that would be a real hardship.”

“You’re right,” Su Zhixuan agreed, and as he spoke, a thought occurred to him. “Hasn’t our Great Rong Dynasty’s fleet been out at sea for five or six years now?”

Guan Hai couldn’t quite recall.

Tang Xianling remembered and said, “The fleet set sail in the twenty-fifth year of the Wending era. I heard that from the shopkeeper at the West Market, though I don’t know if it’s true.”

“That must be true,” Guan Hai nodded. “I have a vague recollection of it. If we count it that way, this is the sixth year.”

“They should be coming back by the sixth year, shouldn’t they?”

“The first voyage only took four years.”

“With small boats like ours, if we encounter rough seas or strong currents, even the ship’s officers get anxious. I’ve heard the ocean is much larger than the Lu River. I hope they’ll return safely. Last time they came back, they brought many kinds of seeds, which helped ease the people’s hardships.”

“That’s right, that’s right.”

Tang Xianling listened to the two men’s casual conversation, his mind drifting a bit. It had been six years since they set out. Come to think of it, Zheng He had made seven voyages to the Western Seas in history, though their durations varied—but six years was truly a long time and a great distance.

Could it be that this place isn’t Earth after all?

Maybe it’s another planet.

Tang Xianling’s mind wandered wildly, though his main motivation was his craving for chili peppers; he’d been daydreaming about chili dishes almost every day since he left—

Tieniu saw his husband lost in thought, looking dazed and bewildered, and found him utterly adorable.

Xianling must be thinking about that chili pepper.

When the food arrived, everyone sat down to eat together.

Su Zhixuan and Guan Hai weren’t staying at the inn; they’d already paid their fare and didn’t want to spend any more money on lodging, so they hurried to the boat while the city gates were still open. Tang Xianling and Tieniu stayed at the inn for the night.

That night.

Tang Xianling couldn’t sleep. Blinking repeatedly, he said, somewhat at a loss for words, “I’m used to the rocking of the boat. Now that the bed isn’t moving, I can’t seem to fall asleep.”

“Let me hold you and rock you a little.” Huangfu Tieniu embraced his husband, gently swaying his arms and patting his back from time to time.

And sure enough, Tang Xianling actually fell asleep.

Mr. Tang: …Speechless.

Humans really do have an amazing ability to adapt.

After a good night’s sleep, the next day, the innkeeper’s assistant brought them clean clothes. Tang Xianling and Tieniu ate breakfast, slung their packs over their shoulders, and headed into town to buy some essentials—things like cardamom and tooth powder—but most importantly, fruits and vegetables.

It was still a four-day boat ride to Lujing, and after that, the boat wouldn’t stop to restock.

Tang Xianling bought some pears; Tieniu carried a slightly smaller winter melon. They also bought two live chickens, some dried river fish, and a small bag of rice—the rice on the boat was stale and tasteless.

“I’ll cook tomorrow,” Tang Xianling said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Huangfu Tieniu was pleased; Xianling was finally perked up. As long as he was eating, that was all that mattered.

“Sounds good.”

Back on the boat that night, as it rocked gently, Tang Xianling fell asleep in Tieniu’s arms. The river roared all around them, and he drifted off immediately. Huangfu Tieniu listened to the sound of the river outside the window and looked at his husband sleeping soundly in his arms. His heart felt calm and at peace, without a trace of that “fear of approaching home.”

It seemed that, just as he had said before, Lujing and the Huangfu family were truly like strangers to him—they held no sway over him.

Early the next morning, they began with dry bread and thin porridge—the bread was a type of dry ration soaked in the porridge. Guan Hai and Su Zhixuan were quite considerate; they wouldn’t dream of troubling the Huangfu couple to prepare all three meals a day, so they usually took care of breakfast on their own.

They had just disembarked the day before and bought quite a few dry cakes in town.

By noon, the two went to wait outside the kitchen to see if the Huangfu couple needed any help—the Huangfu couple had never let them come in to help before. Since the kitchen staff and the ship’s cook were already there, the two of them simply recited their lessons outside and quizzed each other.

Today was different; today, Mr. Tang had gone in as well.

“Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Tang.”

“Is there anything the two of us can do to help?”

Tang Xianling smiled and politely declined.

Guan Hai and Su Zhixuan stood outside where they wouldn’t block the way to review their lessons. When they were reciting, they sometimes got so absorbed that they’d lose track of time and need someone to call them back; today, as they recited, their minds easily wandered off.

“What time is it?”

“It’s still early.”

The two exchanged glances, both understanding what the other was thinking, and said in unison, “It smells so good.”

Then they added, “The scent is extraordinary today.” 

“It really is different—it’s so alluring.”

They both glanced toward the kitchen from a distance.

The ship’s kitchen was quite spacious, though cluttered with odds and ends. With a total of over sixty people on board—passengers and crew combined—there were only two cooks. They had to prepare meals for over sixty people every day, so the cooking was far from refined; as long as it filled their bellies, that was enough.

The fat cook who had threatened them earlier was especially sloppy.

When Tang Xianling walked in, the fat cook gave him a glance, but Tieniu stepped in front of him, and the fat cook just grunted and went back to his work.

It was a hot summer day, and the cook was kneading dough in just a vest; beads of sweat were dripping down—

Tang Xianling looked away, not daring to watch any longer; he was afraid he might get queasy. After all, he’d been eating from the ship’s mess hall for two days since boarding. He began cooking. Today he was making noodles again—some cold noodles. Tieniu had slaughtered a chicken and plucked it with deft hands. They also had the winter melon they’d bought; usually, they ate winter melon stewed or stir-fried, but today he pan-fried a small winter melon pancake.

They sliced the winter melon into thick pieces, sprinkled them with salt to draw out the moisture, then coated them in a layer of batter—the batter needed to be seasoned—before frying them slowly in a little oil until both sides were golden brown.

The two of them always work in perfect harmony in the kitchen. While Tang Xianling was soaking the noodles, Huangfu Tieniu had finished preparing the chicken and even peeled and mashed the garlic into a paste. Huangfu Tieniu, being strong, started rolling out the dough, while Tang Xianling boiled the chicken—

With few spices on board—just the basics like ginger and garlic—Tang Xianling decided to cook the chicken himself. He planned to serve shredded chicken with cold noodles later, using his “golden touch” to remove the gamey smell from the meat.

One chicken was enough to feed four burly men.

Tang Xianling stretched out his skinny arms and legs, trying to look like a burly man. He hummed to himself as he cooked, in high spirits, especially as the aroma grew stronger and stronger—it was the scent of winter melon fritters.

The two kitchen helpers nearby had been watching the couple cook earlier; the chubby one, who had a bone to pick with Tang Xianling, even snorted, “Winter melon, huh?” implying that winter melon wasn’t anything special.

That chicken wasn’t bad; if it were deep-fried, it would be delicious.

Before long, the chubby husband watched as the lanky husband boiled the chicken in plain water, his eyes filled with disdain and pity, as if to say: “This husband can’t cook—he’s ruining the chicken.”

Boiled in plain water—no flavor at all. How awful it must taste.

A perfectly good chicken, ruined!

Then the aroma of the winter melon fritters began to waft through the air. The two kitchen helpers exchanged glances, and the one who’d never been married even chatted casually with Tieniu for a moment: “Usually, winter melon is stewed or stir-fried—it’s pretty unusual that your husband prepares it this way.”

Tieniu picked up his chopsticks, picked out a piece, and handed it to the other man.

This cook hadn’t done anything to offend them.

The fellow was taken aback—he hadn’t expected the other to share a piece with him. Figuring a piece of winter melon wasn’t exactly a rare delicacy, he accepted it without hesitation and took a bite. The freshly pan-fried winter melon had a golden-yellow batter coating; it was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside—winter melon isn’t usually crispy.

“Huh?” The cook was quite surprised by the texture of the winter melon fritter. “It’s so refreshing.”

It wasn’t particularly tender or soft, but the first bite was refreshing. Even though it had been deep-fried, it was light and fresh. He chewed carefully and realized where the umami flavor was coming from—shrimp must have been added to the batter, right?

But he didn’t see any shrimp.

That’s really strange.

But they were truly delicious.

“What did you put in these winter melon fritters?”

Tang Xianling heard the question, glanced at the gruff cook, and replied, “Dried shrimp, crushed and ground into a powder—don’t grind it too fine; it’s better when it’s a bit coarse, so there’s a bit of texture.”

“I see.”

Dried shrimp are cheap and plentiful; every household in the towns along the river can afford them. As for winter melon, needless to say, it’s a cheap, lowly vegetable. But when you combine the two and add a little flour, it becomes a uniquely delicious dish.

Tieniu had finished rolling out the noodles. Over at Tang Xianling’s station, he scooped out the chicken, separated the large pieces with chopsticks, and set them aside to cool—he’d be shredding them into strips later. He then began preparing the sauce…

Cold noodles aren’t as fragrant or alluring as hot dishes.

The aroma Guan Hai and Su Zhixuan had just caught was that of the winter melon fritters. The two had originally been standing a bit farther from the kitchen door, but now they were moving closer and closer. It was just lunchtime, and quite a few passengers had gathered at the door to buy food; some asked, “What’s for lunch today?”

Mid-sentence, they added, “It smells so good.”

The two cooks inside thought to themselves: “That aroma definitely isn’t coming from the noodles we’re making.”

By the time Tieniu called Su Zhixuan and Guan Hai to eat, a crowd of passengers had already gathered at the entrance to buy meals. Tieniu handed the food to the two men, who each carried their portions back inside to eat: large bowls of cold noodles with shredded chicken, topped with a row of winter melon fritters.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Brother Huangfu, you’ve worked hard today.”

Tieniu said, “The food today was made by Boss Tang at my place.”

“Thank you,” the two said again.

It was midday, and the sun was beating down outside, so the two went into the small room to eat. Aside from a bed, the room contained only a tiny, narrow table—and no chairs—so they sat on the edge of the bed, holding their bowls as they ate.

“Today’s meal smells so good.”

“What’s that golden-brown thing on top? It certainly smells delicious.”

The two picked up their chopsticks, scooped up some food, and put it in their mouths. They were immediately blown away—it was so, so delicious. They ate one mouthful after another, first polishing off the winter melon fritters arranged on the rim of the bowl. Then, seeing the noodles in the bowl, they hurriedly stirred them; they weren’t sticky at all, likely because they’d been rinsed in cold water.

Guanhai couldn’t resist taking a bite of the noodles. “Brother Su, hurry up and eat—it’s delicious.”

Su Zhixuan picked up a strand of noodles with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. This time, he didn’t even speak—he just buried his head and ate voraciously. Both men were from the north. Whether in a prefecture, county, or town, there was always a noodle shop—and even if there weren’t, people at home could make excellent noodles. But this bowl of cold noodles today—without exaggeration—was the best noodles either of them had ever tasted.

It was simply delicious.

They finished the bowl of noodles in no time.

Guan Hai suddenly remembered his image as a scholar; he wiped his mouth with a touch of reserve and said, “Young Brother Huangfu’s cooking was already quite good earlier, but I never expected Mr. Tang’s skills to be even more exceptional. Such a simple bowl of noodles, yet made to be this delicious—it’s absolutely fragrant.”

“His family runs a restaurant. I only know it’s in Fengyuan City; I didn’t ask for the exact location,” Su Zhixuan said, feeling a bit regretful. “I was afraid of being too forward earlier.”

Guan Hai nodded; he’d felt the same way earlier. Since the other hadn’t mentioned it, he hadn’t felt it was appropriate to ask.

But now—the two exchanged a glance. Since Mr. Tang’s cooking was so delicious, they had to find out more. Once they’d mastered the skills and returned home, they could go there to eat.

That afternoon, for the late meal, Tang Xianling made rice with crispy bottom—a simple one-pot dish. The four of them divided up the food among themselves. The meat was salted pork—they were saving the chicken for tomorrow. Preparing this piece of salted pork had taken Tang Xianling quite a bit of effort; after pan-frying it, he set it aside and used the oil left in the pan to stir-fry some garlic chives.

It was somewhat similar to the methods used for salt-fried pork or twice-cooked pork.

A layer of crispy rice crust formed at the bottom of the pot of mixed-grain rice, topped with soft, fluffy rice. The aroma of the rice filled the air, even more fragrant than the rice they’d eaten before.

“This rice is the new batch we bought; it’s not the rice from the ship,” Tieniu explained.

Upon hearing this, Guan Hai Su Zhixuan nodded as he ate, saying, “No wonder it’s so fragrant.” 

“Gentlemen, we should split the cash for the rice between the two of us—it wouldn’t be right to take advantage of you two.”

“Sure,” Tang Xianling agreed.

These two scholars were quite kind.

They ate dinner at a table outside that evening. As they ate and chatted, people would glance their way from time to time. Guan Hai remarked, “They must have caught a whiff of our delicious meal.”

“The food the ship’s cook makes is like pig slop—it naturally can’t compare to Brother Tang’s cooking.”

Earlier, the two had addressed Tang Xianling as “Mr. Tang,” but after two meals together, they’d started calling him “Brother Tang” as well.

Later that day, some of the other passengers on the boat asked if they could have extra food prepared the next day so they could join them for a meal. Tang Xianling refused; the space was cramped, and using the ship’s kitchen was awkward for him in every way—he didn’t want the hassle of cooking for more people.

They were quite disappointed, and some even offered to pay extra cash.

Tieniu flatly refused them all.

The next day, Tang Xianling cooked again. This time, things got out of hand: residents from the second floor came bearing silver, asking “Mr. Tang” to cook for them. Tang Xianling pretended to have heatstroke, waved his hand, and said he wouldn’t cook the next day. Tieniu chimed in from the side, saying, “We’ll be in Lujing soon. Once we get there, you can buy whatever you want to eat. There aren’t any fresh vegetables or meat left on the boat anyway.”

The other party thought that made perfect sense—this married couple must be in business; one plays the good cop, the other the bad cop, so they don’t offend anyone.

Just like him, after all, “a friendly attitude brings in business.”

For the last two days, Tieniu cooked the meals, which dampened the eager glances of many who’d been itching to try it, though there was a hint of disappointment: the heady aroma from the previous two days was gone.

Some even asked if the couple was in the food business, where their restaurant was located, and so on.

Before Tang Xianling and Huangfu Tieniu could say a word, Guan Hai and Su Zhixuan had already given them a little plug, welcoming everyone to dine at Brother Tang’s Restaurant in Baxing District, Fengyuan City.

Perhaps because the food was so good, time flew by. That morning, the boatman called out, “We’ve arrived at Chunfeng Ferry.”

Everyone on board came out and stood on the deck, gazing into the distance.

Chunfeng Ferry was very close to Lujing; it would take only half a day to reach the city by horse-drawn carriage. Everyone had been cooped up on the boat for eight days, and now that they had finally reached their destination, they were overjoyed. Even though the boat was still some distance from shore, everyone had already gone back to their cabins to pack their luggage.

Tang Xianling and Tieniu stood on the deck gazing out for a while. Because the ship was high and the distance was great, the people at the pier on the shore looked like tiny ants, and there were boats of all sizes docked there.

“We’re finally here,” Tang Xianling sighed. Traveling long distances in ancient times was truly no easy feat.

Once the ship docked, porters and laborers were waiting at the pier to help carry cargo and luggage. A little further away, there were porters selling food—in short, there was a wide variety of everything, including sedan chair bearers picking up passengers and carriage drivers offering their services.

Guan Hai and Su Zhixuan were also heading to Lujing, so the four of them teamed up to discuss renting carriages—naturally, they rented two. However, after some haggling, they settled on a price. The two of them already had a place to stay: a classmate had written to them, suggesting they come to study under him and offering to provide lodging, ensuring they’d have a shelter from the elements for the time being.

“…My place is rather small, and on top of that, the two of us are already a burden…” Guan Hai explained; if it were his place, he would naturally have invited Boss Tang and young Brother Huangfu to stay.

“We understand. It’s fate that we’ve spent these eight days traveling together. We’ll meet again someday if fate allows,” Huangfu Tieniu said, clasping his hands in a bow.

Tang Xianling could only sigh: True kindness does exist in this world.

In this world, those with malicious hearts are few; the majority of people are sincere and genuine.

After entering the city, they parted ways. Such is the nature of human connections: a brief journey together. With communication difficult in those days and their relationship being nothing more than a chance encounter, there might not be a follow-up.

At that moment, neither Tang Xianling nor Tieniu could have imagined that they would actually meet again in the future.

Such is the persistence of a foodie.

The two found a random inn to stay at, then washed up, freshened up, and had a meal—neither of them mentioned paying a visit to the Huangfu family.

Lujing was different from Fengyuan City. Both cities were large and bustling, but their local customs and styles of dress differed; they were two completely opposite cities. Fengyuan City was orderly and steady, while Lujing was more lively—the city had many small rivers, with rows of buildings of varying heights lining the banks, and the locals wore more vibrant colors.

In the summer heat, the men and women walking the streets of Lujing wore lighter, more revealing clothing; it was no big deal to show a bit of neck or arm—just as they did in Fengyuan City.

Tang Xianling thought carefully about the differences between the two places, then realized, “I get it now. They love to wear flowers in their hair, which makes them seem especially lively; everyone looks so vibrant.”

Though they were all ordinary people, here men and women alike wore fresh flowers in their hair—whether large blooms or wildflowers, they pinned them to their buns or hair knots—and at a glance, one could see they had hope for life.

“I want to wear a flower in my hair, too!” Tang Xianling said.

Huangfu Tieniu smiled and took his husband by the hand, leading him to a roadside stall. There, an assortment of fresh flowers—still glistening with dew—was on display. The seller was a young girl who described each flower in detail, explaining that they’d been picked that morning or just after noon and kept in a cool, shaded spot ever since.

“How much is each one?”

“This one is three wen, this one is four wen…”

The prices varied, but they were reasonable—not much different from those in Fengyuan City. Tang Xianling picked out a flower for Tieniu. Tieniu blushed slightly with embarrassment but bowed his head and let his husband pin it to his hair.

Tang Xianling smiled warmly and said earnestly, “It looks good.”

Huangfu Tieniu picked out a bright red flower and solemnly pinned it to his husband’s head.

Tang Xianling: …Such a straight guy, Tieniu.

What’s with this big red flower?

But this bright red peony was the most expensive, the largest, and the finest.

Tang Xianling was delighted again. Since they were already here, they might as well dress like the townspeople and blend in—that was the only way to experience a different kind of fun.

The two went out sightseeing during the day and strolled around eating at street food stalls at night. Tang Xianling had originally intended to plan ahead and learn more about the Huangfu family, but when he asked around, the common folk had no idea—which Huangfu family? Or that there was another Huangfu family? Or what rank of official they held?

Upon hearing that his ancestor had held a fifth-rank position—and was a military officer, no less—

The tea master holding the teapot: …

Tang Xianling detected a hint of disdain in the tea master’s expression.

It’s as if a tile falling from the capital could hit a third-rank official, right?

“Fifth rank, and that’s an ancestor? What kind of official is that?”

“Oh, and a military official, no less.”

Tang Xianling: … I’m glad you’re mocking the Huangfu family, but don’t make sweeping generalizations—what’s wrong with being a military official!

“Military officers defend our homeland and protect our nation; they deserve respect,” Tang Xianling said.

Tieniu’s maternal grandfather spent his entire life in military service and died at the frontier. He didn’t hold any high rank—he was just a tiny cog in the machine—but even a cog has its own purpose and power.

Someone sitting nearby in the teahouse nodded in approval and said, “This gentleman is absolutely right; he makes a valid point.”

Upon hearing this, Tang Xianling merely nodded in acknowledgment. He had spoken from the heart—not to curry favor with anyone, nor to embarrass the tea master—but he realized there was no point in continuing the conversation with him; they simply didn’t see eye to eye.

After that, he didn’t inquire further about the Huangfu family.

Tieniu said, “No problem. Let’s go tomorrow.”

The Huangfu family had fallen into decline; in fact, in Lujing, they had already begun to decline during Tieniu’s grandfather’s later years…