Chapter 225: Go Back and Fry It
Jiang Jianhua was squatting by the well, scrubbing clothes, his hands covered in soapnut suds. Hearing the noise in the yard, he straightened up and smiled, "Second brother and Ah Cheng's trip was not in vain. Look at the size of these snails. I'm sure we can stir-fry a big plate of them tonight."
She placed Nian'an's jacket on the bamboo pole, the elastic bands on the cuffs swaying gently in the morning breeze. "Nian'an, come here quickly. I'll put on your new clothes, otherwise your feet will catch a cold if the dew gets on them."
Nian An twisted her body in Fu Yuanshan's arms, pointing her little hand at the snails in the bucket: "Look, move."
Fu Yucheng put down the reed and stretched out his hand to tickle his armpit: "If you make trouble again, Second Uncle will put you in the bucket and keep you company with the snails."
The little guy immediately giggled and snuggled into Fu Yuanshan's arms, the silver longevity lock jingling against his chest.
Song Yushuang walked out of the kitchen carrying the millet porridge. A thin layer of rice oil formed on the edge of the porcelain bowl. "Drink it while it's hot. I sprinkled some sesame seeds in it. It's delicious."
She handed the bowl to Fu Yuanshan and filled another bowl for Fu Yucheng. "We have to repair the fence of the threshing ground today to prevent chickens from running in and spoiling the grain."
Fu Yucheng slurped his porridge and said, "I'll go after dinner. I can use the reeds I cut yesterday to make some fence stakes."
After washing the clothes, Jiang Jianhua carried the wooden basin back to the house. As he passed under the eaves, he caught a glimpse of the mugwort purses and touched them. "These purses are dried well. I'll give some to the neighbors."
She picked up the one embroidered with lotus flowers. "This is for Aunt Zhang. She always says she can't sleep well at night. Mugwort can calm her nerves."
Song Yushuang chimed in from the kitchen: "By the way, take a few of the leftover birthday peach buns from yesterday. Aunt Zhang's grandson came to ask about them yesterday."
When Fu Yucheng was weaving reed mats, Nian An squatted beside him and played with dough.
The little fellow kneaded the dough into oddly shaped pieces and stuffed them into the cracks of the reed mat. Fu Yucheng didn't stop him. When he was about to dirty the mat, he grabbed his little hand and wiped it on the stone table: "If your second aunt sees it later, she'll scold you for being a little mud monkey again."
Nian An blinked, grabbed a piece of dough and stuffed it into Fu Yucheng's mouth, causing him to dodge: "You can't eat raw noodles, silly boy."
The sun was getting hotter at noon. Jiang Jianhua came back from the town with an oil-paper bag in his hand.
"I bought a string of candied haws for Nian'an," she said, holding up a string of bright red hawthorns as she walked in. "They're freshly dipped in sugar, so crispy."
Nian An immediately dropped the dough and pounced over, licking the crystal clear sugar coating with his little tongue. He squinted his eyes because of the sourness, but he was reluctant to let go.
Xiaolan followed Jiang Jianhua in, holding a pumpkin in her hand: "The pumpkins my mother planted are ripe, and she asked me to bring the biggest one."
She saw the reed mat that Fu Yucheng had woven and reached out to touch it. "This mat is so soft, much more comfortable than the straw mat at home."
Fu Yucheng smiled and said, "After I finish weaving this for Nian An, I'll weave a bigger one for you. It'll be perfect to put next to your bed."
Song Yushuang was processing a pumpkin in the kitchen, cutting the golden flesh into pieces. "We'll steam some pumpkin cakes for this afternoon, and make some pumpkin pancakes for the kids as snacks."
Jiang Jianhua washed his hands and came to help: "I'll mix some honey water and eat it with pumpkin cake to relieve the greasiness."
The two of them were busy in the kitchen. The pumpkin chunks on the chopping board were piled up like a small mountain. The sweet aroma drifted out the window, attracting Nian An to shout in the yard, "Cake, eat!"
Fu Yuanshan came back from the fields, carrying a bundle of green vegetables on his shoulders, with water droplets still hanging on the leaves. "I went to the ditch to cast a net this afternoon and caught a few crucian carp. I'll make fish soup for Nian'an tonight."
He put the fish into the basin, and the silvery crucian carp wagged its tail in the water. "The soup made from this fish is milky white and very nourishing."
Jiang Jianhua smiled and continued, "Then I'll put more tofu to make the soup more delicious."
In the evening, the aroma of fried snails filled the entire yard.
Fu Yuanshan sprinkled a handful of perilla leaves into the pot. The green leaves rolled in the bright red soup, instantly making the aroma stronger.
"It's ready to be served," he said, placing the snails into a large coarse porcelain bowl. "Did they send it to Aunt Zhang's?"
Jiang Jianhua nodded: "I sent it a long time ago. Aunt Zhang also asked me to bring you a bottle of bayberry wine she made."
Nian An sat on a small stool with a small bowl in front of him, which contained the snail meat picked by Fu Yuanshan.
He scooped the snail meat with a small spoon and put it into his mouth, eating until his cheeks were bulging.
Song Yushuang fed him fish soup: "Eat slowly, no one will snatch it from you."
Nian An nodded with a spoon in his mouth, and held a piece of pumpkin pie in his other hand, afraid that someone would take it away.
After dinner, Fu Yucheng erected the repaired fence stakes at the edge of the threshing ground. The moonlight cast long and slender shadows on the wooden poles.
"Now the chickens can't get in anymore," he clapped his hands. "Tomorrow I'll weave some bamboo baskets and put the beans in them."
Fu Yuanshan leaned against a tree trunk and smoked, the sparks of his cigarette flickering in the darkness. "I'm going to the mountain to cut some bamboo tomorrow and see if there are any wild chestnuts to fry for the kids."
Under the locust tree, Jiang Jianhua was sewing a red cloth bellyband for Nian'an, and embroidering a small longevity lock pattern on the cloth with silver thread.
"Look at this lock-edge pattern," she showed it to Song Yushuang, "isn't it more beautiful than the painting?"
Song Yushuang took a closer look and said, "It would be better if the stitches were denser. The child's skin is delicate, so don't let the thread hurt."
Yun Tangyin sat beside him, sewing shoe soles and occasionally helping to thread the thread. "When this bellyband is finished, Nian An will wear it out. I guarantee the neighbors will praise it."
Nian'an lay on Song Yu's knees, playing with a tiger doll in his hands, his eyelids gradually drooping.
Jiang Jianhua put the bellyband into the bamboo basket: "The weather is getting cold, it's time to cover the child with a thin blanket."
She got up and went into the room to get a small quilt, gently covering Nian An with it. "This child, he played like crazy during the day, and now he can't even open his eyes."
The moonlight climbed up the fence posts, stretching the shadows of the locust tree yard into long ones.
Fu Yucheng and Fu Yuanshan sat on a stone bench drinking bayberry wine, the wine in the bowl reflecting the stars in the sky.
"Next spring, we'll reclaim the vacant land at the east end," Fu Yucheng took a sip of wine, "and plant some cotton. In the fall, I can make Nian'an a new cotton-padded jacket."
Fu Yuanshan nodded and said, "I will learn how to make a small spinning wheel and ask Jianhua to spin some cotton yarn for Nian'an so that she can make more comfortable clothes for her skin."
In the kitchen, Song Yushuang and Jiang Jianhua were still cleaning up the dishes. The sound of water and the collision of dishes was soft and gentle, like humming a gentle tune.
Nian'an smacked his lips in his dream, probably still thinking about the pumpkin cake he hadn't finished eating. The silver light of the longevity lock sparkled in the moonlight, and like the smile on the corner of his mouth, it was as sweet as honey.
The days in the locust tree courtyard are like this bowl of slowly simmering thick fish soup. It does not require too many seasonings. Just the simplest ingredients are used, slowly stewed to produce the most mellow flavor, making every ordinary moment full of indescribable warmth.
As soon as the sky was getting light, Fu Yuanshan walked up the mountain with a machete on his back.
The morning dew wet the mountain road, making it soft to step on. The wild chrysanthemums on the roadside were in full bloom, with crystal water droplets on the golden petals.
He cut down a few bamboos of uniform thickness and found a chestnut forest in the valley. The ripe chestnuts rolled out of their thorny shells like small brown beads.
"The children are in for a treat now," he said, smiling as he put the chestnuts into a bamboo basket. "We can fry them when we get home. They're delicious and soft."
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