Chapter 17

Tang Xianling hailed a rickshaw to the intersection of Baxing District Main Street, paid three wen, and walked into the street. He picked up some vegetables along the way. With the recent heat, the variety of produce had grown plentiful—cucumbers, round eggplants, napa cabbage, and baby greens. The wild vegetable stalls had nothing left to sell.

Huh, someone was even selling mushrooms.

It had rained just yesterday, and it seemed to have drizzled intermittently overnight. The morning sky was still overcast, yet it wasn’t raining. Someone had actually picked mushrooms to sell.

Tang Xianling crouched down and asked the price.

The small mushrooms in this basket were all clean and white, while others were grayish like shiitakes. But they were all tiny, about the size of a thumb. He’d never eaten this kind of mushroom before and didn’t know if they were a specialty of Xidu Province.

The mushroom seller was a young woman. Before her stood a larger basket, its contents neatly arranged: dry straw lined the bottom, soft cloth atop the straw, and the tiny mushrooms placed carefully upon the cloth.

The quantity wasn’t large; she must have sold some already, yet the remaining mushrooms were still of excellent quality.

“If you’d like them, half a basket is thirteen wen,” the girl said cautiously. Seeing her prospective customer silent, she hastened to explain, “I was selling them for fifteen before, but I’m worried they’ll shrivel, so I’m lowering the price by two wen. These mushrooms can only be gathered on rainy days in the mountains.”

Tang Xianling, sensing her urgency, said, “I’ve never eaten this mushroom before. I don’t know if it’s poisonous—”

“No, no! We’ve eaten them forever in our village. They sprout after rain, but they’re scarce. You have to search deep in the forest where the moss is thick. These mushrooms are incredibly fresh and delicious—great in stir-fries or soups!” the girl hurriedly assured him.

Hearing this, Tang Xianling decisively pulled out his money and bought the entire basket for thirteen wen.

“Just tip them into my basket.”

The girl sighed in relief after selling her last batch. She needed to leave the city early to get home.

Both parties were pleased with the straightforward transaction. Holding the plump little mushrooms, Tang Xianling’s mind raced with ideas: adding them to meat floss buns would surely make them fragrant. He also had red beans at home, perfect for making sweet-savory treats.

Red bean paste with pork floss.

Naturally, the bread made from today’s mushrooms was for home consumption only—not for sale. The supply was limited and unreliable.

Humming a tune, Tang Xianling walked back home. He knocked three times on the door, but upon hearing Jiang Yun’s hurried footsteps inside, he stopped knocking. Seconds later, Jiang Yun opened the door. Seeing him, a relieved smile spread across her face. “Wu-ger is back! Come in quickly. Why didn’t you buy anything?”

“Got a bucket of milk—the East Market delivery should be here soon—and these mushrooms.” Tang Xianling showed Jiang Yun his basket, then asked, “Did Zhu the butcher deliver the pork tenderloin?”

Jiang Yun: “No, I told him this morning to hold it. Do you need it now? I can go buy some.”

“No rush. I’ll grab a bite at noon before heading out.” Throat parched from his errand, Tang Xianling first went to the kitchen to drink water. Only after downing two bowls of cool boiled water did he feel refreshed. He then asked Jiang Yun if she’d eaten.

Jiang Yun lifted the lid of the winnowing basket. On the cutting board lay a palm-sized stuffed pancake. “I used the leftover filling from this morning to make a pancake. I ate one and saved this for you, though it’s not as good as yours.“

”I’ll manage with a bite.” Tang Xianling scooped water to wash his hands before taking the pancake to eat, without reheating it.

After finishing the pancake, he boiled water to scald the bamboo egg beater, then hung it on the rope outside to dry. The milkman finally arrived. Tang Xianling went to open the door. Jiang Yun, being kind-hearted, offered the young delivery boy water and insisted he drink before leaving.

“Wu-ger, I’m going to buy meat. How much should I get?” Jiang Yun saw the milkman had returned and didn’t want to delay him.

Tang Xianling: “Get it all.”

In the past, hearing this would have filled Jiang Yun with anxiety and hesitation. She would have urged Wu-ger not to buy too much. Now, though her face showed a moment’s hesitation—but only about how much money to take—she finally grabbed the money, closed the wooden door, and headed out to buy the meat.

Zhu Si delivered meat to Wu-ger’s shop that morning. Wu-ger was out fetching water at the time, so Old Tang’s wife took delivery. She mentioned that Wu-ger wanted all the pork tenderloin later that day. Zhu Si pushed his cart back to the shop and relayed this to his wife when she arrived.

Zhou Xiangping: “Wu-ger bought quite a lot yesterday. He wants more today? Did you mishear?”

“No, Sister Tang specifically said Wu-ger wants more and to set some aside for him,” Zhu Si replied.

Zhou Xiangping: “Then wait a bit. The pork loin isn’t selling well anyway.”

Morning passed, and Tang Wu-ger’s breakfast shop closed the earliest. Yet neither Mrs. Tang nor the Wu-ger came to buy meat.

Zhu Si remarked, “I told you—if they truly wanted it, I could’ve just delivered meat to their house this morning and bought it then. Why bother asking me to hold some back?”

“Mrs. Tang must be undecided,” Zhou Xiangping suggested.

Zhu Si: “Fine, I’ll lower the pork tenderloin price a bit. See if anyone buys it.”

By noon, before evening meal time, Zhou Xiangping spotted Jiang Yun’s figure. She tapped her husband, signaling him to look. Zhu Si chuckled, “She actually came to buy meat.”

“Give her a discount,” Zhou Xiangping said.

Zhu Si: “Yesterday, Wu-ger got a bargain.” He said this, but in truth, the pork tenderloin was hard to sell. At this time of day, if it didn’t sell and sat in his hands, it wasn’t making money—it was losing money.

So Jiang Yun approached the stall.

The couple greeted her cheerfully. Zhou Xiangping chatted idly with Jiang Yun: “Have you eaten? What did you have? Old Zhou said he saved some pork tenderloin for you, Sister-in-law. It’s all here.” Jiang Yun answered each question: “Just had a quick bite of pancakes at noon. After selling breakfast, Wu-ger went to the East Market and just returned.”

“Oh, Wu-ger went to the East Market? What was he buying?” Zhou Xiangping asked curiously, then blushed at her own words. “Sister-in-law, I shouldn’t pry. I suppose he was getting spices. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Jiang Yun laughed. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just said it was a quick meal of pancakes. Mine aren’t as tasty as Wu-ger’s. Everything he makes smells delicious.”

”Wu-ger has really made something of himself now—such skillful hands, and sharp in business too. When he came to buy meat yesterday, he called me ‘Madam Boss.’ Now he’s a little boss himself.“ Every word Zhou Xiangping spoke struck a chord deep within Jiang Yun’s heart.

”Sister-in-law, you’ll have nothing but good days ahead.”

Jiang Yun’s smile smoothed away the worry lines on her face as she asked for the pork tenderloin.

Zhu Si, who’d been standing by unable to interject, immediately jumped in when Sister Tang said she’d take it all: “Sister-in-law, that’s a lot—at least ten jin! You really want it all?”

“Yes.” Jiang Yun listened to Wu-ger. “All of it.”

Zhu Si gave a loud “Got it!” as he packed the meat for Sister Tang, saying, “Yesterday when Wu-ger came to buy meat, I gave him a fair price—three wen per jin. We’re old neighbors, Sister-in-law. I won’t overcharge you. The same price as yesterday evening will do.”

Jiang Yun understood Zhu Si was trying to do her a favor, so she readily agreed. “Thank you both, you and Xiangping. Once Wu-ger’s bread is ready—”

Zhou Xiangping thought, does she expect me to buy bread too?

“I’ll send you some to try.” After hesitating, Jiang Yun still made the promise.

Zhou Xiangping was stunned. Would her sister-in-law really give away free samples for business? She didn’t agree outright, just smiled and said, “No rush. Sister-in-law, take the meat home first. Take your time.”

“Alright, here’s your money.” Jiang Yun carried the meat back.

Only after Sister Tang was out of sight did Zhou Xiangping say, “That scared me to death! I thought Sister Tang was asking me to buy bread.”

“Who trades favors like that? Sister Tang isn’t stupid,” Zhu Si chuckled. His meat was already sold cheaply—was Sister Tang really going to push her luck and make them pay to support Wu-ger’s bread business? That just wasn’t how things worked.

“But what exactly is pork floss bread?”

Zhou Xiangping didn’t know either. She sighed, “Back when Mr. Tang was around, running the shop, Mrs. Tang collected every wen without fail. She’d never give anything away for free.”

Old Tang was strict. If anything went missing, and if anyone dared to criticize her in front of customers without giving her face, those customers would never dare ask her to round down the price!

But Mrs. Tang would have been mortified back then, with all those customers watching.

Zhou Xiangping thought, if Zhu Si dared to badmouth her like that in front of customers, she’d grab Zhu Si’s face!

“Children are the best,” Zhou Xiangping mused. “Wu-ger runs his own little business, and Mrs. Tang holds her head high. It’s the kids who make things work.”

Zhu Si bristled at this. “How about me? I am a grown man, and you can’t rely on me?”

Zhou Xiangping playfully scolded, “Rely, rely, rely—I rely on you for everything.”

“Now that’s more like it,” Zhu Si perked up.

At the Tang Family Courtyard.

Tang Xianling was boiling milk. The flame couldn’t be too high or too low. He cooked it on a small stove, dividing the process into three batches. Once boiled, he poured each batch into separate bowls to cool to room temperature. Once cooled—this required refrigeration—a thicker layer of fat would rise to the surface. He’d skim that off to whip into butter.

While the weather wasn’t too hot yet, Tang Xianling would soon fetch well water to substitute for refrigeration. This bread would be sold in autumn, winter, and early spring; when the heat arrived, they’d switch to other breakfast items.

The West Market did sell ice, but it was ridiculously expensive.

Tang Xianling, who was a cheapskate, did not buy any.

Jiang Yun returned, but Tang Xianling, busy at work, didn’t notice her troubled expression. “Mother, leave the meat on the counter. I’ll finish boiling the milk, let it cool, then make the pork floss.”

“Alright.” Jiang Yun replied, but didn’t leave.

Tang Xianling boiled the second pot of milk, pouring it into a basin. Only then did she notice Jiang Yun’s hesitant expression, tinged with regret. Tang Xianling paused, “What’s wrong?”

“I… when I bought the meat earlier, I told Zhou Xiangping—Zhu Si’s wife—that I’d bring them some bread to try once it was ready.” Jiang Yun’s voice trailed off as she spoke.

Tang Xianling, thinking something had gone wrong, said, “That’s only right. Mr. Zhu delivers meat to us every morning and gives us pork tenderloin at a good price. We’ve received his kindness, so giving him some bread to try is the proper thing to do.”

“This is your business. I should have asked you first.” Jiang Yun exhaled in relief, but the thought had nagged at her all the way home. Next time, she must consult Wu-ger before agreeing to anything.

Tang Xianling looked at her earnestly. “This is my business, but you help me. You even gave me the initial startup funds. Small favors like this—once promised, they’re promised.”

Jiang Yun’s eyes brimmed with emotion—a mix of gratitude and grievance, as if all the injustices she’d endured from Father Tang over the years were about to spill out.

“Mother, I’ll fetch water. Don’t touch the milk.” The third pot of milk could be boiled after fetching water. Tang Xianling truly wasn’t skilled at emotional consolation. He couldn’t very well spend the afternoon in the kitchen with Jiang Yun, first cursing Old Tang’s name and then weeping together, could he?

He had no time for such things now.

Don’t waste your emotions and time on people who aren’t worth it.

Tang Xianling shouldered the water buckets and stepped outside. When he returned with the water jars full, Jiang Yun was gone from the kitchen. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. In Wu-ger’s fading memories, Jiang Yun had always wept to him, pleading for understanding. Wu-ger had yielded at every turn, his heart aching for this mother he cherished, unwilling to cause her further distress.

It couldn’t be that  Wu-ger protected their mother, while she, an adult, couldn’t protect her own child.

The roles were reversed.

Tang Xianling had no desire to be a high-and-mighty official; he was happiest when he could focus on his culinary craft.

The milk was still slightly warm. He’d let it sit a while longer; no need to rush to chill it in cold water. Tang Xianling first boiled the third pot of milk, poured it into a basin, and then focused on preparing the tenderloin. He trimmed away the connective tissue and began cooking the meat following yesterday’s steps…

Unnoticed, the light outside the window had grown dimmer.

Tang Xianling cooled the milk basin in the well water. He began preparing the evening meal—keeping it simple today: congee simmered, eggplant steamed, then shredded and tossed with crushed cucumber for a cold salad. When it proved insufficient, he bought steamed buns from the Lu family next door.

We’ll make do.

Long after night fell, Tang Xianling remained in the kitchen, oblivious to the world outside. He didn’t even hear Old Tang wake up and start cursing. He began proofing the dough with yeast starter. The bread wouldn’t be ready tonight—he’d have to wait until tomorrow.

At night, candles lit the kitchen.

Tang Xianling finished preparing ten jin of pork tenderloin into shredded meat, packing it into a jar. The milk in the bowl was now thick enough to scoop the top layer. After transferring three bowls of milk into a large bowl, the most crucial step followed: churning butter.

“…” Tang Xianling gathered his focus, blew out the candle, and stepped outside with the bowl in one hand and the whisk in the other. Facing the bright moon, he prayed for divine favor: “It must succeed!”

Truthfully, it was mostly to save candles.

Then the frantic whisking began.

The commotion drew Jiang Yun. Tang Xianling kept working as he called out, “It’s fine. I’ll go to bed after the butter’s done. If you can’t sleep, Mother, there’s milk in the kitchen. Have some if you want.”

There are plenty left.

Jiang Yun didn’t really need the milk, but she wanted to keep her Wu-ger company. She went to the kitchen to warm the milk, heating a bowl for him too. “There’s still so much left,” she remarked.

“Just leave a bowlful,” Tang Xianling said. “I’ll knead the dough for tomorrow later.”

This dough was for bread and needed to rise overnight.

Pot-sticker dough didn’t need rising.

Jiang Yun lit the stove in the dark to warm the milk. Seeing the large basin of milk, she couldn’t help but say, “So much of it—it’s a waste. We could buy less.”

“It rained yesterday, and the temperature is low. The butter can keep longer. I made extra this time. If business is good, it won’t be enough, and I’ll need to buy more to keep making them for a few days.” Tang Xianling planned to stop selling bread by the start of summer and consider switching to other items then.

It was now past April, so he could still sell for another month.

Jiang Yun just felt sorry for the milk. Tang Xianling, knowing this, said through the stove room door, “We can’t drink it all. Let’s send some to the Lu family tomorrow.”

Lu Sanniang comes every day to buy pot-sticker buns and is quite supportive.

Giving the little girl some milk would help her grow taller.

Jiang Yun agreed.

After a while, Tang Xianling continued his rhythmic pounding. Jiang Yun couldn’t fight off the drowsiness; her eyelids felt heavy. Tang Xianling told her to go home and sleep first.

After an unknown amount of time, Tang Xianling felt physically drowsy yet mentally alert. He kept glancing up at the moon, occasionally looking down with expressions like ‘Still too early,’ ‘Starting to take shape,‘ and ‘Almost there.’ The final glance downward brought the word: ‘Done!’

Done!

Tang Xianling lit a candle and examined the bowl by its light. The milk had transformed into globules of fat and a layer of pale white whey—the fat globules were butter. He took fine cheesecloth and began straining the fat and whey from the bowl. The fat trapped in the cloth wasn’t usable yet; the final step was to rinse it in ice water to wash out the remaining milk solids.

Wrapped in wax paper like this, it could be stored at room temperature for quite a while.

His room was quite cool.

At this moment, Tang Xianling was feeling very pleased with himself.

Twenty jin of milk yielded nearly a jin of butter. After washing the butter, Tang Xianling divided it into three portions, wrapping each in wax paper.

The red beans were already soaking—this time, he’d soaked a larger batch.

He began preparing the dough. Hot water from the small stove was mixed with cold water to activate the starter yeast. Then, milk, eggs, sugar, and butter were added to the flour—

At this stage, staring at the five jin of flour, Tang Xianling instinctively knew one piece of butter wouldn’t suffice. So he unwrapped a second… then a third.

The butter he’d churned until his hands ached was gone.

Tang Xianling wept to the heavens.

Mix, knead, knead until smooth enough to cover with a bowl. It’ll be ready tomorrow morning.

The butter bowl and whisk will be cleaned tomorrow. Tang Xianling yawned, exhausted, yet his eyes sparkled with boundless joy—tomorrow, truly, he could eat a meat floss bun!

Fragrant, soft bread.

The next day.

Tang Xianling woke at his usual hour. He headed to the kitchen and found the water jar full, the whisk and bowl washed clean, and hot water boiling on the small stove.

Jiang Yun had risen even earlier. “Wu-ger,” she said, “hurry and wash up.”

“Alright.” Tang Xianling knew Jiang Yun had done all this and felt touched. “Thank you, Mother.”

Jiang Yun smiled, looking pleased. “I’ve already started boiling the red beans. Will you knead the dough?”

“Sure.”

The kitchen bustled to life as usual each morning. Preparations began: mixing the filling. Tang Xianling brought out all the leftover preserved plum greens—over four jin, he estimated. Today, he’d asked Mr. Zhu for an extra five and a half jin of pork belly.

Chopping meat, mixing filling, clang clang clang.

Jiang Yun called out, “Wu-ger, someone’s here.”

Tang Xianling added, “It’s a bit late today. Is it Old Man Cui again?”

The past couple of days had been—far too early. It seemed Old Man Cui had figured out the timing and arrived precisely on schedule. Tang Xianling carried the large bowl of filling to the front shop, while Jiang Yun followed behind with the noodle basin, saying, “Yes, but there are more people today.”

Tang Xianling thought, More is more, but how many more could there be?

Probably just four or five more than yesterday.

He and Jiang Yun entered the shop to set down their things. The oven was already preheated. Tang Xianling went to open the shop door. As soon as he opened it…

Tang Xianling fell silent: …

This is way too many.

At least ten people were lined up outside his door. Talk about getting up early for pot stickers.

“Good morning, everyone.” After his moment of silence, Tang Xianling found himself amused. Foodies who weren’t afraid to wait were everywhere. He looked at the front of the line—it wasn’t Old Man Cui, but the customer who had failed to buy pot stickers both previous times.

“Good morning, Boss Tang! I’ll take three with pickled plum vegetables and three with red bean paste,” said the lead customer.

The one behind him chimed in: “Zhang Ming, save some for us!”

The first customer, Zhang Ming, explained, “I missed out both days before—you guys must have bought them all. I’m only getting a few. Ask Old Man Cui how many he wants.”

Second in line, Cui Dabao, ordered: “Four with pickled plum vegetables, two with red bean paste.”

Tang Xianling smiled warmly: “Mother, take the money. Everyone, please wait a moment.”

It was just dawn. After speaking, Tang Xianling turned toward the counter. His gaze swept over the line, then halted abruptly. Looking again, he saw a handsome youth standing out from the crowd—taller than everyone else by a full head—

Huangfu Tieniu!

Tieniu had arrived!