Chapter 42 Chapter 42 Lotus Green Chicken Crowing Cloth.
Ji Xu rolled up his sleeves, picked out some plump red-bud taro from the basket, washed them, put them into the pot and simmered them. When they could be pierced through with chopsticks, he took them out, peeled off the skin, pounded them into a paste with a small stone mortar, mixed them with potato starch and kneaded them into dough, and then pinched them into small pieces.
There is no need for a rolling pin, just use your hands to knead and unfold it, and wrap it with the leek and egg filling. During the mourning period, Mao Gong abstains from meat and alcohol for a year, because mourning must not harm the body. Abstaining from meat is harmful to the body. Eggs are usually eaten as a tonic during the mourning period.
"What is this?" Wang Dianji asked after he bolted the door to protect himself from Chef Niu.
Ji Xu kneaded the dough wrapped with the filling, and a very uniform object with three pointed corners was made, which he gradually placed on the table.
"Taro dumplings." Ji Xu said.
"Taro corner? No wonder it's called a corner, doesn't it have three corners?" Wang Dianji twirled his beard and shook his head as if he understood.
Ji Xu thought about it and agreed. Dumplings had not yet appeared, and people at that time usually called things with stuffing wrapped in dough "馎饦".
It was not until the Eastern Han Dynasty that the medical saint Zhang Zhongjing first created the "crescent-shaped wonton", which is also known as the "crescent-shaped wonton". It is very similar in shape to the dumplings of later generations and is eaten in a similar way, both of which are boiled in soup or fried in oil.
By the Song Dynasty, the term "jiaozi" appeared, and then evolved into the "dumplings" of later generations.
Ji Xu smiled and agreed, "Yes, taro."
The taro pieces floating in the boiling water are scooped into the sauce soup. The skin is crystal clear and decorated with chopped green onions, which looks very good.
Ji Xu still served a bowl to Wang Dianji and said, "Wang Dianji, would you like to try it first?"
Wang Dianji, who had been stroking his beard and swallowing his saliva, now knew his limits and began to refuse, saying:
"Never mind, my lady is anxiously waiting, so I'll bring it over and let her taste it herself."
The Gan family had preserved eggs, so Ji Xu made a dish of cold preserved eggs and served it with the existing steamed buns with vegetarian fillings, which became a three-bean dish.
As to whether Mrs. Bai placed it on the table at the banquet, Ji Xu had no way of knowing for the time being.
She was taken to the backyard by An Nai for entertaining. When she came out, she met Chef Niu who was guarding outside the east kitchen. He looked at her with a cold face.
Ji Xu pretended not to notice and went into the backyard. Anai affectionately brought out some fruit for Ji Xu to eat and brewed a cup of tea for her. The two of them sat in the pavilion. Before they had time to talk for a while, they heard a busy voice outside the door calling:
"Mr. Mao is here! Mr. Mao is here! Anai, come to the front hall and serve him!"
An Nai pinched a piece of rice cake from the plate with several fried foods for her to eat. He told her to eat the fruit and drink the tea by herself and hurried away.
The Gan family is very generous in adding honey to the rice dumplings, which are much sweeter than those sold outside. If my sisters tasted them, they would love them so much.
Because she didn't like sweet food, she drank a cup of tea after eating the piece to overcome the greasiness. Anai added pepper leaves to the tea, which made it more fragrant.
Just as he put down his cup, he was attracted by the squeaking sound of wheels and turned his head. He saw a little girl of seven or eight years old with a round face and a gold necklace.
He wore a silk jacket over his undergarment, and an embroidered cotton trousers with a crotch. He sat in a wooden wheelchair, with the wide trousers at his left leg empty.
Although she sat low, she glared at Ji Xu and said coldly:
"So you prepared food for that Mao Gong or Gui Gong?"
Ji Xu said: "It's me, my name is Ji Xu."
The little girl said coldly, "I didn't ask your name."
"I am the most honorable daughter of the Prince of Gan in this mansion, second only to my mother and father-in-law.
I'm warning you, don't come to my house again. What kind of food will you feed Mao Gong or Gui Gong?"
Princess Gan clenched her fist and shouted.
Ji Xu then asked, "Don't you want to go to the library to study elementary education?"
"Who said that! I, Princess Gan, am fearless." Princess Gan clenched her fists even tighter.
Ji Xu nodded, "Well, you are afraid to go to the library."
Princess Gan's face flushed completely red, and she angrily threw the pear that she hadn't eaten on her legs towards him.
Ji Xu answered directly, "Thank you."
Princess Gan grew even more angry and said, "That Mr. Mao is extremely picky. Don't even think he'll appreciate the food you cook! Just wait for him to write a poem to disparage you!"
"It's okay. If this person really wrote a poem to criticize me, it means that he has no magnanimity and does not know how to appreciate things." It is inevitable that everyone has different tastes. At this moment, Ji Xu deliberately acted indifferent.
Princess Gan choked for a long time before she said, "You are so shameless."
"The princess is very shy." Ji Xu pointed at his own face and looked at her blushing face.
At noon, there was an argument in the backyard.
In the front hall, Madam Bai had already escorted Mao Gonggong to the door, and presented him with two boxes of preserved eggs, saying:
"This is what we ate at the banquet. I hope Mr. Mao will accept this small gift as a token of my husband and I's respect."
Mr. Mao accepted the gift and said, "Master Calligrapher, I will discuss this with you."
He then recited a newly composed poem and drove away in an ox cart.
"It is as bright as the moon, as soft and beautiful as cotton, its aroma is vigorous and lingering, its fragrance spreads far and wide. A pedestrian loses his mind in the downwind, a servant chews in vain and glances sideways...
This is the "Ode to the Horn" written by Mao Gong! It praises the taro horn!
Anai came back from the front hall, stammered and recited it again, looking happy.
Mao Gongyuan argued with the calligrapher and said that the princess had a good chance of entering the Sutra Academy, which was a great joy for the Gan family.
Anai hurriedly pulled Ji Xu to the front hall to see Madam Bai, "Hurry up, Madam has prepared a gift to thank you."
The daughter of the King of Gan, who was standing by, looked downcast upon hearing this. Ji Xu turned back and said to her:
"Actually, there's nothing wrong with being thick-skinned sometimes. Thanks for the pear."
Anai said with a smile, "Look at our princess, she's so happy! Quickly push her back to her room, her face is so red from the sun."
After giving some instructions, he took Ji Xu to the front hall, and all the way he was imitating the way Mr. Mao was eating the food.
"There's not a single drop of the three-bean dish left. I even drank a lot of the taro soup!"
Arriving at the front hall, Madam Bai was ordering someone to bring two rolls of Chicken Crowing cloth from the storehouse. This cloth was the latest in fashion, and one had to queue up in the county cloth shops to buy it. Furthermore, it was in limited quantities, and only the Gan family had the connections to buy so much. She said,
"The lotus-green horse is for Miss Xu, whose family is suited to such a bright color; and the mouse-grey horse is for Wang Dianji, who has worked hard today."
Before Ji Xu could say anything, he saw Wang Dianji's happy shadow running over, prostrating himself on the ground and thanking him:
"Thank you, Madam, for the reward! This old servant should do his best, so there is no hardship at all. Serving the princess in her study makes me feel so happy!"
It had been many years since Wang Dianji received such good material from his wife again. How could he not be excited?
He would make a robe and wear it out someday to show off to Niu the Chef and Niu Dianji, the uncle and nephew.
Mrs. Bai was touched by his caring words and helped him up. "You are an old man, older than me. How can you bear this? Get up quickly."
Ji Xu took the piece of chicken-crowing cloth, which was made of cotton and felt soft and comfortable. She thought it was just right for making winter clothes, so she didn't have to buy other material.
In front of Madam Bai, they were also registered as common people, so there was no need for them to kneel down and perform a grand ceremony. Ji Xu then held his hands and nodded to thank Madam Bai.
Mrs. Bai smiled and returned the gift. She saw that she was wearing thin clothes made of the coarsest ramie material, and straw sandals woven from rush. Now that the weather was getting colder in the morning and evening, her princess had to wear padded clothes.
He said, "Go to the warehouse and weigh ten pounds of cotton and give it all to Miss Xu."
After leaving Gan's house, Ji Xu held the cloth in one hand and carried ten pounds of cotton wrapped in a cloth bag in the other. The villagers kept looking back at him along the way.
Wang Dianji returned to the kiln and walked with her. He glanced at Ji Xu's bag of cotton with a sour look on his face.
Ji Xu laughed and said, "I was able to get all this thanks to Wang Dianji. He stopped that Niu cook. The cotton should go to Wang Dianji half. Let's go to the kiln together and divide the cotton."
Wang Dianji's knotted heart couldn't help but relax a little, and he said, "How could I care less about you? The Gan family makes cotton-padded clothes for an old man like me every year, but it's not like you. Keep it for your own winter clothes!"
This is the truth. He has enough winter clothes to wear. It's just that he feels uncomfortable because his wife didn't give him cotton.
Furthermore, he knew that if Ji Xu had not insisted on his presence, even if Niu Chef had straightened his back, he would have been left to count and settle accounts in the dusty kiln. Thinking of this, he spat:
"That idiot chef! He's trying to alienate us and learn your cooking skills. Do you think I can't see through his evil intentions?"
Ji Xu smiled and said, "Dianji really knows people and makes decisions."
Wang Dianji was so elated by the wind that all his worries disappeared. He said frankly:
"I will definitely have to speak well of you in the future, Madam."
Ji Zhi, who was waiting at the fork in the road, came out, glanced at what Ji Xu was holding, and asked:
"Cousin, are you okay? You were suddenly called in by the Gan family. I was worried that something might have happened to you."
Wang Dianji rushed to show off and said, "What could be the problem? The Gan family is not the kind of wealthy family that bullies others with their wealth. Your cousin is in the limelight.
The taro cores were even eaten by the filial Mao Gong. You know Mao Gong? He is the old gentleman with a beard who always wears a sash and is seen at village sacrifices.
The village’s sacrifices were held every year in Xiaoshunli, presided over by Degong, the elder of Xiaoshunli, and Maogong was among them.
Ji Zhi went to watch the sacrifices every year, so he knew this. When he heard this, his face became a little embarrassed, but he still smiled.
Wang Dianji continued, "Mr. Mao actually wrote a poem called 'Ode to the Horns' to praise the horns your cousin made. How do you pronounce it?..."
While stroking his beard, he began to chant in mimicry.
"It is as bright as the moon, as soft and beautiful as cotton, its aroma is vigorous and lingering, and its fragrance spreads far and wide. Pedestrians lose their minds in the downwind, and servants chew in vain and glance sideways..."
Ji Zhi's face turned pale when he heard this, especially when he heard Wang Dianji say:
"Look, these ten pounds of cotton and this piece of chicken-crowing cloth are the thank-you gifts from our lady."
He lowered his head for a long while, then asked Wang Dianji again, "Wang Dianji, would you like to buy some preserved naan fruit? If you like it, please introduce it to the Gan family for me. If I receive a thank you, I will not forget you."
Wang Dianji looked at her preserved fruit and shook his head, saying, "Your preserved fruit is too dry. I have bad teeth."
After thinking for a moment, he added, "You are Ji Zhengbing's cousin, so I will tell you the truth. It's not that I don't want to introduce you to some, but the Gan family's orchard is very rich, with many kinds of preserved fruits. There is no need to buy such ordinary ones outside."
Ji Zhi was silent for a moment, feeling that this was Wang Dianji's excuse.
Ji Xu proposed a solution and said:
"Don't expose the pears directly to the sun. Steam them thicker, then steam and sun-dry them three times. The skin will be firm on the outside and the inside will be runny, making it taste better."
Ji Zhi said with a dark look on his face, "What's the point of saying this now! It's already the beginning of winter, and there are no fresh pears to pick at home. The season is over."
These words were spoken in anger. How could Ji Xu know when the first wife would dry the preserved fruits? Besides, Jin Shi didn't get along with the second wife, so how could Ji Xu say this to her? It would be embarrassing and would make Jin Shi think that he wanted to harm her.
This is Ji Zhi. She just said this. After hearing this, she did not mention it at all. She just said: "I just said it casually."
Ji Zhi knew that he had said something out of turn, but he was so angry that he couldn't lower his head to apologize. All he could see was the bright chicken-crowing cloth and the soft cotton. Her winter clothes were still stuffed with reed fluff, which was not cold-resistant at all.
Holding the basket, he muttered, "I still have to go sell preserved fruit, so I can't accompany you."
He stomped his feet and left Ji Xu's side.
Ji Xu went to the city market, bought some food for his business, and then returned home.
Two younger sisters came to pick it up, one holding a piece of cloth, the other holding cotton, and they couldn't let go of it. Ji Feng was surprised and said:
"The Gan family is truly wealthy. This piece of cotton-wrapped cloth is even embroidered with fine fabric! It's much better than the red cloth used for the beams. We now have another piece of fine material."
He unfolded the chicken-crowing cloth and took a look at it, and couldn't take his eyes off it. "This chicken-crowing cloth is so soft and smooth to the touch. I heard Feng Fuzhen bragging that her aunt gave this material to her grandfather on his mother's side for his birthday.
Sister, you are really capable. You said you wanted to make winter clothes, and today you brought back these fine materials, and this cotton, so soft and comfortable. I wonder how much it would cost to buy them. How many families have that kind of money?
Ji Zhu rubbed her face against it and said, "It's so soft, just like the clouds in the sky!"
I couldn't help but stretch out my hand to press the cotton pad on the bed.
Being pushed aside by Ji Feng, Lao Chen imitated what he had heard from the adults and said:
"I think cotton is like catkins. You can't compress it. If you do, it won't be warm anymore."
Ji Zhu obediently withdrew her hand and just groped around gently, cherishing it very much.
The two followed Ji Xu to the kitchen, and Ji Feng said with longing:
"Sister, please tell us how you got all this."
While Ji Xu was making lunch, he gave a brief account of the Gan family's experiences. His two younger sisters, who were squatting under the stove and making fire, listened with great interest.
Especially Ji Zhu, who immediately learned to recite the poem "Jiao Fu".
Ji Feng was stumbling, but she was anxious because she wanted to show her skills to others.
"As hue... as the bright moon, soft... as soft and beautiful as cotton, with... a vigorous and lingering aura... Xiaozhu, how did you carry it back?"
Ji Zhu shook her head and recited it to her.
The lingering sound of the kitchen, accompanied by the smell of smoke, creates a warm atmosphere.
There was enough cotton and cloth at home, and the weather was getting colder day by day. These days, Ji Xu would go home in the afternoon after selling things, chop the firewood in front of the door and pile it under the eaves, and then learn to make winter clothes.
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The author has something to say: "Ode to the Horn" is a revision of Shu Xi's "Ode to the Cake," the original line of which reads: "...soft as spring cotton, white as autumn silk, its fragrance so strong it spreads like a thread, its fragrance soars far and wide, pedestrians lose their minds in the downwind, and servant boys chew in vain, glancing sideways..."
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