Nostalgia
What's this "sweet porridge"? Who came up with that name?!
I thought it would be a sweet drink to satisfy my cravings, but to my surprise, it tasted like pepper and star anise. If you sip it carefully, you can also taste the pungent flavor of scallions and ginger.
"Salty?" Because there were locals present, Zhu Shiyi didn't say he felt uncomfortable directly, but his face was already scrunched up like a bitter gourd.
“I knew you’d ask that,” Lin Changren laughed, unfazed. “Although this is called sweet porridge, it’s actually salty, more like a very thin bowl of salty congee.”
Zhu Shiyi nodded, not believing it, and took another bite.
...It doesn't taste good.
"It's good. People who like it will like it very much," Zhu Shiyi said politely. "Tianmo, why did you choose this name?"
“In the past, when the seller made this, he would say ‘Add some more,’ which meant whether we wanted to add something else. Over time, it became known as sweet porridge. People in the provincial capital like to drink it this way.”
There are stories like this too. Zhu Shiyi became interested: "Quite interesting."
She scooped up another spoonful and took a small sip. Once she accepted this premise, the thing... didn't seem so strange anymore.
A bowl of sweet millet porridge, steaming hot, tastes slightly sweet with hints of spinach and millet.
Subjectively, Zhu Shiyi still couldn't get used to the spice flavor, but she seemed to be able to taste its "objective flavor".
Perhaps it's an objective impression under a specific cultural context? It's intertwined with countless pieces of national history, bustling with life, truly a scene of everyday human warmth.
Experiencing the customs and cultures of other places—that's the meaning of travel, isn't it?
"Is it because you don't like the taste?" Lin Changren asked.
"It's alright," Zhu Shiyi said, trying to smooth things over. "Maybe it's just a different taste; people in Yuecheng prefer sweets."
"We only live once, so of course we should try new things," Lin Changren waved his hand. "Since we're already here, we should at least have a taste, right?"
Zhu Shiyi smiled gently: "Yes."
She doesn't seem to like trying new things. Because trying new things is risky; if you eat something bad, it will affect your mood and waste money.
Whether it's food or other necessities, she always prefers to stay within her familiar comfort zone.
But today, she suddenly realized that trying new flavors wasn't so difficult after all.
*
The host, Lin Changren, then took a liking to another guest. He snatched Pan Yue's bowl and scooped a large spoonful for him, saying, "Come on, you must have a taste too."
Pan Yue didn't say anything. He picked up the spoon and tasted the sweet porridge.
The peppery flavor filled my mouth.
To be honest, he wasn't used to the taste, but deep down, he didn't feel any negative emotions.
For him, as long as the food is palatable and meets his nutritional needs, it doesn't matter what he eats.
As people age, the number of their taste buds gradually decreases, and their function also atrophies.
Therefore, people who have a strong appetite when they are young may lose their appetite as they get older.
Pan Yue values fitness and needs to control the types of food he eats. Fortunately, he is not in his teens or early twenties, so he does not need to control his appetite excessively and his appetite remains stable.
*
"Is it good, Lao Pan?" Lin Changren asked.
Pan Yue nodded casually, "Yes, that's fine."
"Just okay?" Lin Changren seemed dissatisfied. "You're nitpicking your diet again. If you don't eat and drink to your heart's content while you're young, what if you die unexpectedly and then you won't be able to eat anything?"
Zhu Shiyi felt a chill.
What a vicious curse!
Pan Yue wasn't angry at all. He said calmly, "Eat whatever you want. After you die, I'll burn paper money for you and make you the richest man in the world."
Zhu Shiyi burst out laughing.
Your little mouth is so sweet, it's like you've smeared poison on it.
He licked his lips, wondering if he could poison himself.
"Get lost," Lin Changren snorted. "Anyway, I think it tastes better than anything else. When I'm away from home, I really miss this taste from home."
The older I get, the more I miss the taste of home—simple, ordinary, yet warm.
Zhu Shiyi empathized: "Me too."
Studying in a foreign land, in that dilapidated school cafeteria, there was nothing but chicken: braised chicken, clay pot chicken, chicken cutlet rice, chicken pot... and the students were like weasels.
As she ate the frozen chicken, she missed the taste of her hometown and her mother's cooking.
Before going to university, Zhu Shiyi would never have realized that she was also a homebody.
She even missed that unhappy home.
Lin Changren rested his elbows on the table, pointed to the ceiling, and swung his index finger in a circle: "There are all sorts of things outside. Sometimes, the more you eat, the more tired you get of them."
"The taste of this bowl of rice from Kejia is something I will always miss."
Lin Changren glanced at the plate of sea cucumber rice on the table, which was already empty. Perhaps it was the sight that stirred his emotions, but he picked up the plate, shoveled all the rice into his bowl, ate half a bowl of "longing for you," and gulped down a cup of tea.
...
The meal was drawing to a close.
During his visit, Pan Yue also asked Zhu Shiyi several questions.
Zhu Shiyi didn't take the food and drink for nothing; he answered all the questions seriously.
--
Night fell. Qin City lit up once again, and the lights lingered for a long time.
The clock tower on the shore tolls again and again, welcoming tourists from afar and old friends who feel a mix of trepidation and longing for home.
"What are the arrangements for the rest of the trip?" After a hearty meal and tea, the host, Lin Changren, was very hospitable.
Thinking about the travel guides online, Zhu Shiyi replied, "I plan to go to Fengqin Island for a walk."
“I know this road well!” Lin Changren raised his voice. “Come on, let’s go together. I’m also going to show Lao Pan around.”
...
Fengqin Island was originally an isolated island near the main city peninsula.
With the development of tourism and the needs of urban construction, a coastal pier was built between the island and the main city, connecting it to the coastal road of the main city.
Qincheng is, after all, a northern city. Even in exceptionally hot years, the evenings remain cool and comfortable.
We ate, drank tea, and talked.
When I go out with them, I don't have to be reluctant anymore.
"How refreshing." The sea breeze brushed against my face; it wasn't invigorating, but rather a little languid, yet just right, moist and pleasant.
In the distance, where the light cannot reach, the waves are faintly visible.
Zhu Shiyi leaned against the outermost side: "Yuecheng is hot even at night."
Pan Yue walked between the two and said in a serious tone, "The heat here mainly comes from solar radiation. Unlike the south, where the latitude is low and the temperature is high all year round."
Zhu Shiyi looked embarrassed.
Pan Yue is definitely a science and engineering guy.
I feel like he's the kind of person who, even when someone is heartbroken in front of him, will have to give a few words of explanation about the components of tears.
...
The sea breeze at night is gentle yet powerful.
The seaside road is bustling with people.
The three walked side by side, strolling leisurely. Under the dim yellow light of the streetlights, their shadows overlapped, sometimes long, sometimes short.
Lin Changren hadn't been back to Qincheng for two years. He walked and took pictures, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Gradually, he ran behind, leaving Pan Yue and Zhu Shiyi walking side by side.
Pan Yue turned his head and gazed into the deep sea, but what he saw most was the figure of a girl.
The lights along the coast flickered, her silhouette appearing both real and ethereal.
A gentle breeze swept by, and strands of hair, like willow catkins fluttering in the wind, lightly brushed against her arms and flashed by.
Like a butterfly fluttering its colorful wings, subtle and ticklish.
It is hard to ignore.
Pan Yue was slightly distracted.
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