Free Web NovelChapter 80: Chapter 73: Compendium of Braised Dishes (Incomplete)
By the time Zhou Yan left the library, his notebook was already filled with three pages of notes. ƒrēewebnovel.com
Whether or not it was for a love letter was unimportant. The main thing was a passion for learning, for that feeling of knowledge flooding his brain.
In addition, there was now a copy of *Romance of the Three Kingdoms* in his bicycle basket. The old man was clearly a fan and had highly recommended it, while also advising him against reading *Water Margin*.
As Zhou Yan rode away, the old man even shouted after him, "A great man’s ambition should be like the Yangtze River rushing east to the sea! Why pine for the comforts of a gentle home!"
Deafening!
Thunderous! freewebnøvel.com
’Eh? Wait a minute.’
’If the old man has such lofty ambitions, how could he be so knowledgeable about writing love letters?’
’Something’s not right. Not right at all.’
Zhou Yan first rode his bike to the bridge to buy two bottles of white liquor. After a moment’s thought, he bought another two, then rode back to the library. He set the bottles on the table and said with a smile, "Sir, I bought you some liquor."
The old man unscrewed a cap, took a sniff, and nodded in satisfaction. "From Old Zhang’s place by the bridge? You’ve got good taste, kid. Next time, I’ll teach you something for real."
"Sounds good, Grandmaster. See you later," Zhou Yan said with a laugh, then got on his bike and headed for Zhou Village.
It was a busy time of day. The villagers were either out selling beef or working in the fields, so he barely saw anyone on the way.
When Zhou Yan got back to the old family home, he saw Zhou Qi from a distance, squatting under the persimmon tree by the entrance, holding an enamel basin and drinking sweet potato porridge.
Seeing Zhou Yan park his bike at the gate, he looked up and grinned at him.
His face was grimy, but his smile was exceptionally simple and honest, and his eyes were clear.
"Take your time," Zhou Yan said with a smile. The sweet potato porridge today also had a good amount of braised beef offal in it—clearly his grandmother’s handiwork.
Members of the Zhou Family only got to eat Grandma’s braised dishes during holidays. He sure was lucky.
Zhou Yan walked in with the liquor. His grandmother was feeding the chickens, a large white goose trailing behind her. It held its head high, its red crown a vivid scarlet. Its long neck was as straight as a silver spear, and its wings were slightly spread, its snow-white feathers glinting with a cold light, like a goose general accompanying an emperor on an inspection tour.
A tabby cat was dozing on the courtyard wall, its two white paws tucked under its chest, basking in the warm autumn sun, fast asleep.
This was the mouser Grandma had acquired at the beginning of the year from a family at the end of the village in exchange for two carp.
The tabby didn’t look very big, but it was an expert at catching mice and would often catch a few sparrows for a snack.
Grandma’s previous cat had lived for eighteen years. When he was little, Zhou loved running over to Grandma’s courtyard just to pet the cat.
Now, it was Zhou Momo’s turn. Besides the goose and the cat, she also got all sorts of little snacks to eat.
There were a lot of rats in the countryside. Grandma liked raising chickens, ducks, and geese, and with so many grandchildren around, she didn’t use rat poison. That was why they always kept a cat.
"Grandma," Zhou Yan called out.
Grandma turned to look at him and asked with a smile, "What brings you here so early in the morning?"
The large goose also fixed its eyes on him, craning its neck forward and spreading its wings in an attack posture.
"Just came to see you," Zhou Yan said, casually picking up a small stick leaning against the wall and holding it horizontally in front of him. It was a defensive posture born of muscle memory.
It was a guard goose, and it just couldn’t be tamed.
It only recognized Grandma and Zhou Momo. It kept a respectful distance from his uncle, but it showed Zhou Yan no such courtesy.
There was a reason that little stick was placed so conveniently.
’If I can’t tame it, can’t I at least stew it?’
Zhou Yan had strongly recommended that Grandma stew it for New Year’s. Goose stewed in an iron pot.
Grandma shooed the goose back into its enclosure, then turned to look at the liquor in Zhou Yan’s hand and sighed. "You haven’t even finished the last batch I gave you, why buy more? You have to save the money you earn. Otherwise, it’s like a broody hen scratching for chaff—you’ll end up with nothing to show for it."
"Liquor doesn’t go bad. You can just drink it slowly. I can still afford a couple of bottles," Zhou Yan said, carrying the liquor into the main hall and setting it on the table.
Grandma came in after washing her hands, holding a large, golden-orange persimmon. She handed it to Zhou Yan, beaming. "Here, eat. I just picked it this morning. It ripened on the tree. It’s melt-in-your-mouth sweet."
The persimmon’s skin was paper-thin, encasing soft, ripe flesh. Zhou Yan took it with both hands. It felt like a wobbly globe of water, and his fingers sank into it with the slightest pressure, leaving an indent.
Images flashed through Zhou Yan’s mind. Back before Zhou Momo was born, he had been the youngest of the grandchildren and loved to play in Grandma’s courtyard. She would always give him snacks and rare treats to eat, until he gradually grew up and his visits became less frequent.
But every time he came, Grandma would, as if by magic, produce some food, press it into his hands, and watch him with a warm smile, saying, "Here, eat."
"Okay," Zhou Yan replied with a smile. He tore a small opening near the stem and brought it to his lips for a sip.
A cool, sweet pulp, containing a few crunchy seeds, was like a mouthful of nectar, melting on his tongue with a fresh, sweet taste.
After a few more sips, he peeled back the thin skin. The flesh quivered in his palm. He took a bite; the soft, tender pulp had a subtle, springy crunch to it. It was sweet without being cloying, a unique delight.
In no time, Zhou Yan had devoured the entire persimmon.
A persimmon ripened on the tree was truly delicious.
’Melt-in-your-mouth sweet! Sweet to the very soul.’
’This is the first time in this life I’ve been a son, and also the first time I’ve been a grandson.’
’This feeling of being doted on by Grandma is... kind of special.’
After he finished, his hands were sticky with pulp. Zhou Yan went to the kitchen to wash them. When he came back, he saw his grandmother pouring him a glass of water and asked, "Grandma, Uncle came to my shop for noodles this morning. He said he was starting work today, but I didn’t get a chance to ask—what position did the organization assign him?"
"The notice arrived at home yesterday. Said he’s some kind of committee member, in charge of the Suji Armament Department. He’s quite pleased with it himself, says it’s a lot like leading troops." Grandma handed him the glass of water, smiling. "I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. He was up at the crack of dawn today, exercised in the yard for an hour before leaving, just full of energy."
Zhou Yan could tell that Grandma was also very happy; she was absolutely thrilled.
’Head of the Armament Department... that should make him a town party committee member. Deputy section chief level. That’s pretty good.’
Zhou Weiguo had a stubborn personality, but his abilities were outstanding. He had a box in his bedroom filled with all kinds of certificates of honor.
With his status as a first-class merit recipient, his potential for promotion was certainly not small.
’Of course, he himself probably couldn’t care less about it.’
"Grandma, I had a bricklayer build a new stove yesterday, and I also bought a big aluminum pot about this size," Zhou Yan said, gesturing with his hands. "I’m planning to start simmering the brine tomorrow. When the time comes, can I pick you up and bring you to the shop to guide me?"
"Of course," Grandma nodded, pointing toward the kitchen. "There’s a jar in the corner of the kitchen. Figure out a way to carry it back with you."
"What jar?" Zhou Yan got up and walked to the kitchen. A large pottery crock sat in the corner, looking just like the family’s pickled vegetable crock. He couldn’t help but laugh. "I have pickled vegetables at my shop, I don’t need yours."
"Go on, open it and see," Grandma said with a smile, following him into the kitchen.
Zhou Yan stepped forward and carefully lifted the small bowl covering the top. A rich, savory aroma immediately hit him. Peeking into the crock with the limited light, he saw it wasn’t pickled vegetables at all, but a crock of shimmering, reddish brine.
"Old brine?" Zhou Yan turned around, his face a mask of disbelief.
’Isn’t this Grandma’s most prized possession? Why is she suddenly giving it to me?’
"When you’re running a shop, the food you sell to customers has to taste perfect, so they remember it after just one bite," Grandma said, looking at him. "A new brine needs to simmer for a long time to develop enough flavor. By the time you’ve nurtured it properly, your customers will have all gone elsewhere."
"This crock has half of my old brine. Take it back, bring it to a boil one more time tonight, then pour it back in the crock. Put it in a cool place and don’t touch it. Tomorrow, you can come pick me up, and I’ll teach you how to make and maintain the brine."
"Grandma, I..." Zhou Yan felt his nose suddenly stuff up, and a fire seemed to ignite in his heart.
His grandmother’s love was scorching hot.
"This skill of mine has to be passed down, you know," Grandma said, looking at him with a beaming smile. "Your mother has told me a few times that people in town still talk about my braised dishes. It’s just that your aunts and sisters-in-law... their skills are awful. If I passed it to them, I’m afraid people would curse me behind my back."
"But if you’re serious about learning, kid, I think you can do it."
Zhou Yan sniffled and nodded solemnly. "Grandma, I’ll definitely learn well. I won’t embarrass you."
"Then go find someone to help you move it. I’m off to play mahjong next door. They called for me earlier, and I told them I’d come after feeding the chickens. They’re short one player and getting antsy. Lock the gate for me when you leave, I’ve got the key in my pocket." Grandma waved her hand dismissively and turned to leave, as if she’d made a resolute decision.
"Hey, Grandma..." Zhou Yan’s emotional moment was cut short, leaving him feeling both helpless and amused.
’This, I suppose, is the typical mindset of people from Sichuan and Chongqing.’
His gaze fell upon the pottery crock, and his eyes grew fervent once more.
’This was the old brine he had been dreaming of!’
Zhou Yan picked up the crock of old brine and started toward the main hall. This one crock weighed at least twenty pounds.
[Ding! You have picked up half a pot of high-quality brine. You have obtained the Initial Old Brine. Your journey into braised cuisine has begun!]
[The other half of the brine has been detected as unobtainable. The mission is over and will be settled based on progress.]
[Mission Reward: Compendium of Braised Dishes (Fragmented)]
