Mrs. Aldridge (2)

Spicy stir-fried chicken giblets and cold shredded chicken salad made headlines again, with Countess Aldrich's tearful image of eating the dishes appearing in the newspapers. This time, the photos were remarkably clear, showing drooling from Countess Aldrich's plump lips and half-fallen tears. Everyone was speculating about just how delicious the dishes must be, and given Countess Aldrich's personality, she would surely bring the chef to Count Aldrich's mansion.

That day, Miss Ellen resumed her habit of dining at the restaurant. The owner rushed into the kitchen to announce that two nobles, Countess Aldrich and Miss Ellen, were both in the restaurant, along with several adventurers. Seeing Philip's expression, the owner tried a bite of the spicy stir-fried chicken giblets. He broke out in a sweat, covered his mouth, coughed, and hesitated to serve the set meal. In the end, it was Mi who served everyone.

The owner hid behind the rice bowl, observing everyone's reactions. Miss Eileen, who could handle the spice best, finished one serving and ordered another. Countess Aldrich choked on her first bite and slapped the girl feeding her. The adventurers, too, stopped after one bite. There was no soup served today; everyone only had a large glass of water. After a couple of sips, the adventurers suddenly had a huge appetite. They ate the spicy stir-fried chicken giblets while sniffling, and like Miss Eileen, asked for another serving. Countess Aldrich recovered and took a plate to eat the spicy stir-fried chicken giblets herself. Her image was thus captured and sent to the gossip section.

Greedy Dougto revamped the sign again, selling the cold shredded chicken and spicy stir-fried chicken giblets separately for ten copper coins each. Mi was worried Dougto would get a sack thrown in his pocket. Little April learned how to make the cold shredded chicken, seasoning it almost perfectly, but no one could cook the spicy stir-fried chicken giblets. The people of the Flower Kingdom couldn't handle the pungent spiciness, yet they loved it, sniffling and crying while shoveling huge bites into their mouths with their forks. Only Mi knew how to use chopsticks; the people of the Flower Kingdom had problems with their thumb joints, making it difficult for them to grip chopsticks properly. They also had difficulty controlling the amount of food they ate with their forks—even a god would cry if they ate such a huge fried fruit.

Cold shredded chicken salad and spicy stir-fried chicken giblets became the restaurant's signature dishes until all the chickens in the market were sold out. Kraft couldn't buy chicken, so they substituted beef, and spicy cold shredded beef salad became the restaurant's signature dish. Exploding fruit became scarce, and all the restaurants in Sun City began researching how to use it in their dishes. Every day at lunch and dinner, people passing through the food street had to cover their noses to avoid the pungent smell.

The consequences of the spicy stir-fried chicken giblets were severe; Mrs. Aldrich finished her meal and left the restaurant immediately, while Ellen waited to take Mi home. In the few days since she last saw her, Mrs. Ellen had become much more composed. This time, she possessed aristocratic authority, almost refusing to allow Mi to refuse her escort.

“You said—” Miss Ailian stared at Mi for a while, then narrowed her eyes like a cat and asked, “Where did you come from?”

“I came from Maicheng, Miss Ellen.” Mi didn’t intend to publicize her origins. She had already put away the marigold coins; now she was just an ordinary cook. Of course, that was assuming that Lady Aldrich wouldn’t provoke her again. She dared to kill even in Derek’s palace; the laws of the Flower Kingdom couldn’t touch Countess Aldrich, and she didn’t mind using the underworld. Mi didn’t realize that since the Severn incident, she had shown absolutely no respect for the nobles of Sun City.

“Okay.” Miss Ailian shut her mouth and sat up straight and quietly. Mi shifted her body slightly and leaned back against the car wall.

The carriage moved quietly for a while before stopping. The door opened, and the footstool was already set up. Ailian gestured for Mi to go first. Mi bent down and got off the carriage. Sure enough, it stopped in front of the Flower Fate Inn. The plump Sheila stared at Mi in surprise as she got off the carriage, glancing at her again and again before falling silent. Mi turned around, about to thank Miss Lian, when she saw Miss Ailian also get off the carriage, with servants standing quietly to one side. Mi didn't know if Ailian's room was still available, so she could only extend an invitation: "Would you like to come up and sit down?" Miss Ailian nodded quietly and followed behind Mi.

"Please give me a pot of tea." As they passed the counter, Mi nodded to Sheila and ordered a pot of tea. Eileen followed quietly behind Mi like a silent cat. When Mi opened the door, she saw Eileen clinging to her back and took a step back to let Miss Eileen go in first. Mi peeked back and saw that the old servant who had been following Eileen was not there.

Mi could clearly sense Ailian's nervousness, curiosity, and scrutiny. Ailian stopped looking through Mi's belongings and stood awkwardly to one side, as if she had entered a strange world. The cramped one-bedroom apartment contained only two chairs and a table; tea had to be brought up by the landlady. Fortunately, Shila was quick enough to bring up a pot of tea and two cups. Shila gave Mi a wink, gently placed the tea down, and left without a word.

Mi poured two cups of tea; the tea was clearer than usual today, indicating that Sheila had clearly provided better tea leaves. Mi handed one cup to Miss Aileen and invited her to sit down at the table.

Miss Ellen was standing in front of the small rock supporting the mountain, on which was the same phonograph she had placed last time. Suddenly, Ellen's singing filled the quiet room. When the song ended, Miss Ellen sat down opposite her: "You said my singing was neither emotional nor technical, just a waste of my talent with a loud, unrefined voice."

Mi touched her nose, picked up her teacup and took a sip, thinking to herself, "I've been criticized for talking badly about others." But she didn't intend to apologize, so she just smiled apologetically and said, "Ms. Ailian also has many excellent qualities."

Ailian picked up her cup, took a sip, frowned, pursed her lips, swallowed the tea, turned her head, and fell silent again. Ailian was playing a folk song from the Land of Flowers, "Blue Moon Song"—a slightly melancholic tune about lovers separated by distance. Miss Ailian sang it cheerfully and lively.

"Does Miss Ailian have a lover?" Mi didn't know how to deal with this noble lady. Ailian was like a kitten entering a new environment, her tail held high as she cautiously looked around, both curious and bold.

“No, I’m only thirty-five.” Miss Ailian straightened her already ramrod-like body. What’s so great about being thirty-five and still single? Mi couldn’t quite understand Ailian’s pride. At this time, Mi didn’t know that long-lived creatures didn’t reach adulthood until thirty. She only felt that this thirty-five-year-old Ailian looked like she was only in her twenties, too young and unusually naive.

Mi gave up trying to persuade the naive girl. She relaxed back in her chair and said, "Miss Ailian, can you sing 'Little Garden'?" "Little Garden" is a simple folk song, fresh and plain, without any big ups and downs. Its advantage is that almost everyone in the Flower Kingdom can sing it, but the difficulty is to sing it in an attractive way.

“I will,” Miss Ellen stood up, clasped her hands, and began to sing softly. Looking at Miss Ellen, Mi felt a sense of solemnity, like listening to a nun sing a hymn. After Miss Ellen finished singing, she looked down at Mi.

"Miss Ailian, could you sing it again in a higher key?" Mi thought for a moment and asked Ailian to sing it again. Ailian hesitated for a moment and sang it again as Mi requested. After listening, Mi shook his head and said, "Miss Ailian, your breath control is very stable and your pitch is good, but your most outstanding vocal range is in the middle register. The same song, if sung in the middle register, will have a completely different texture than the original. Miss Ailian, can you hear the difference?"

Miss Ailian didn't quite understand what Mi meant, but she realized that Mi was saying her second rendition of "Little Garden" was significantly better than the first. Ailian looked at Mi tentatively: "May I ask you to be my teacher? My vocal teacher."

Mi hadn't expected Miss Ailian to make such a request. After a moment of silence, she pointed to the opposite side and said, "Miss Ailian, please sit down." Ailian sat down opposite her with a slightly more excited expression, picked up her cup, and gulped down half a cup of water. Mi couldn't help but find it amusing; Ailian clearly didn't like this kind of tea, yet she drank it like a cow.

“I’m a cook,” Mi reminded Ailian, reminding her of where she found herself.

"That's alright, I can send a cook over!" As expected of a noble lady, she made arrangements for Mi without even asking.

“I don’t play any musical instruments and I can’t read sheet music.” Mi refused Ailian’s offer; she was already planning to go on an adventure to see if she could encounter a long-lived species.

“You know what kind of singing is good,” Ailian insisted. Mi wanted to say that anyone with ears could tell what kind of singing was good, but she thought of Ailian’s noble status; perhaps she had never heard a negative statement before, which was why she disappeared for several days in a fit of anger after seeing Mi’s manuscript.

“You can sing here,” Mi thought for a moment, “but it can’t interfere with my work.” Ailian’s mezzo-soprano is very good, and her bass is almost breathless; listening to her sing is a real pleasure.

“Oh, okay.” Ailian stood up again. “Then I’ll sing you another song. What would you like to hear?” The Flower Kingdom has many opera houses, with all sorts of fancy high notes. The opera protagonists are either the Holy King Derek or stories of various legendary heroes. Songs suitable for Ailian's mid-to-low range are actually few and far between. Mi bought quite a few phonographs to write music reviews, but she was impatient with coloratura and rarely played them. Mi planned to give them to the owner of the Flower Fate Inn before leaving.

"How about you sing 'Little Garden' again, but in a lower key?"

Ailian started singing again. "Little Garden" was a very ordinary song; the lyrics roughly translate to: In the garden, spring brings flowers, summer brings rain, under the autumn moon, my mother takes me to see the stars, in winter we can only hide indoors to avoid the cold wind, longing for the arrival of spring. The lyrics are simple, sung three times in a row. Mi suspected this song was brought by someone from outside. Along her journey, the wasteland was hot and windy, the Acropolis was slightly better, and the weather in Lincheng was closer to spring on Earth, perfect for crops. Perhaps Mi's stay was too short. The temperature in Taiyangcheng was also very pleasant; in winter, a wool felt cloak was enough, and in spring, only a coat was needed. The most popular coat in Taiyangcheng was the cloak; one cloak could be worn from spring to autumn, from summer to winter.

Ailian finished singing and looked expectantly at Mi. Mi was still thinking about the lyrics; the song depicted a world with four distinct seasons. Unable to wait for instructions, Ailian began to sing softly again:

Spring light climbs the wall in March.

The butterfly fluttered on the petals.

Raindrops tapped against the window in June.

The dragonfly secretly tasted the dew.

Little garden, oh little garden, the four seasons grow at your fingertips.

Mother gathered up the fallen fragrance and presented new buds.

Little garden, oh little garden, time has faded my hometown.

I tried to follow my shadow back, but I was always just a step away from catching up.

Osmanthus flowers mend the September dress.

Dewdrops on the leaf tips turn into white frost.

The starlight that slipped through Mom's fingers

That's enough for me to listen to half a chapter of a fairy tale.

When the north wind wanders between the roof tiles

The story curls up in the old stove.

My mother taught me to breathe on the glass.

Draw a flower to watch over spring.

Little garden, oh little garden, the rings of time grow on the threshold.

Mother counted the migratory birds returning home, shaking off the frost from her shoulders.

Little garden, oh little garden, memories are paintings in my heart.

I huddled by the warm stove, waiting for dawn, waiting for the new mud to turn the old alleyway back into its original state.

The last snowflake fell from the branch.

The pear blossoms at my mother's temples have quietly sprouted.

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