Asking for marriage
“Seventeen, eighteen…” Yan Zhiwei squatted in the corner of the kitchen, counting the jars over and over again.
She came home late yesterday and was tired, so she went to rest early.
When she got up to wash the vegetables this morning, she found that the situation had changed drastically.
Even when stored in an icy well, the quality of green peppers is greatly reduced after a night of dampness in Lingnan; some develop spots, and some even ooze sour and bitter juice.
Yan Zhiwei sighed helplessly, carefully selected a lot of peppers, and then began to officially make salted green peppers.
Salted green peppers are not a difficult dish to make in modern times, but they are still a bit of a challenge in this era. The reason is simple: there are not enough seasonings.
For example, chicken essence cannot be used, and the concentration of vinegar in this era is too strong, making it difficult to control the amount.
But Yan Zhiwei is a seasoned chef with many years of experience. Chicken essence is only used to enhance the flavor. Ginger paste mixed with scallion whites can replace it. As for the vinegar, it can be diluted with water and the amount used should be carefully controlled.
Yan Zhiwei raised her hand and held the knife. In the blink of an eye, the ginger slices were shredded, each one the same thickness and glossy.
She then added cinnamon, star anise, Sichuan peppercorns, and bay leaves to the oil, along with rock sugar and soy sauce, to make the sauce needed for the salt curing.
With the pickled green peppers buried under the sauce, Yan Zhiwei finally finished her work. She pulled the white towel hanging around her neck to wipe her sweat, then gracefully got up to wash her hands.
Next, simply let it sit in a cool, shady place.
The kitchen is cluttered and the bedroom is too hot, neither of which is the best place to store salted green peppers.
Yan Zhiwei thought of her own woodshed, which was half abandoned due to dampness and darkness, and realized that it could be put to good use after some tidying up.
Yan Zhiwei looked towards the courtyard, where Zhu Mingyu was busy working.
She got up early to pickle green peppers, and Zhu Mingyu didn't stay idle either. He chopped firewood and started a fire, and in case he disturbed Yan Zhiwei, he specially restarted the old stove in the courtyard to cook.
It's just past noon now, and the aroma of rice is already faintly wafting through the courtyard.
Yan Zhiwei got up very early. Although she had been busy for two hours, she did not feel hungry. However, she was sleepy and barely managed to stay awake.
When all else failed, he finally succumbed to sleep deprivation.
After Yan Zhiwei let out a huge yawn, she pulled off the white towel she was using to wipe her sweat and called out to Zhu Mingyu in the yard, "I'll take a nap first. You eat first, but leave some for me in the kitchen. I'll heat it up myself when I get up."
Yan Zhiwei walked towards the bedroom, then stopped and turned back: "Remember to clean up the things in the woodshed and move all these salted green peppers in."
"Two hours of marinating is enough."
"Remember, it must be in the shade!" Yan Zhiwei murmured even in her dream.
Yan Zhiwei collapsed onto the couch for a short rest, vaguely hearing rustling sounds from the courtyard. When she opened her eyes, she saw that dusk had fallen, clearly indicating that she had slept too much.
She was afraid that the pickled peppers had gone past two hours. She originally wanted to taste them and seal the jar to preserve them, but after sleeping all night, the pickled peppers were probably over-seasoned.
Yan Zhiwei wiped the drool from her face, ignoring her sleepiness, and sprang to her feet. She quickly put on her outer coat and rushed to the kitchen.
"Zhu Mingyu!" Yan Zhiwei called out, tilting her hair to the side, but no one responded. Seeing this, she took larger steps, her face flushed with anxiety.
This man is really unreliable! Yan Zhiwei cursed inwardly, secretly vowing to lock Zhu Mingyu in the woodshed this time.
Yan Zhiwei clenched her fists and went to the kitchen, her foul words on the tip of her tongue, only to find a scene completely different from what she had expected.
She fell asleep quickly, and before she could tidy up the kitchen, it was now spotless.
The jar of green peppers is gone, the seasonings on the stove are neatly arranged, and even the pot is washed until it shines.
Yan Zhiwei looked out over the courtyard again. Freshly chopped firewood was piled on the stone steps, and even coarse cloth shirts that had been starched were hanging on the clothesline.
Why is Zhu Mingyu being so diligent today? His blockhead has suddenly become clever after a little oiling; he can think independently and help her tidy up.
"Is she possessed by a ghost?" Yan Zhiwei felt a chill run down her spine.
"Sister Zhiwei." A voice came from behind, and a girl in a peach-colored shirt smiled sweetly. She was the unmarried daughter of Aunt Fang next door.
Many years after Fang Da Niang was divorced by her husband, her daughter went back to her parents' home with her mother and changed her surname to Fang. Fang was cheerful and had a good relationship with the Yan family.
Although to be precise, she was close to Zhu Mingyu, but that's not important anymore.
“I made some rice cakes, but I remembered halfway through that you don’t eat peanuts, so I didn’t put them in. I’m bringing them to you while they’re still fresh.”
Miss Fang pointed to the small plate of pastries on the table and poured a cup of tea for Yan Zhiwei, who was thirsty.
Yan Zhiwei took the teacup handed to her by Miss Fang and heard her say that Zhu Mingyu had left more than an hour ago without explaining where he was going. He only asked her to help move the green pepper jar into the woodshed and then fill the groove at the mouth of the jar with cold boiled water to seal it.
In other words, everything that is in such good order now is thanks to Miss Fang, while that idiot brat who drank for free has actually run away!
"I have to skin this brat alive." The tea lingered on her lips and tongue, and Yan Zhiwei's lips hardened.
Yan Zhiwei grabbed a dustpan and broom from the corner and rushed out the door, bumping into Aunt Fang at the corner.
Aunt Fang was dressed in red, and her rouge was so bright it was almost blinding, as if she had applied homemade red fermented bean curd to her face.
Yan Zhiwei was startled, but then she remembered that Aunt Fang was a matchmaker and was well-known throughout the town, so she calmed down and came to her senses.
"Zhiwei, little girl." When Aunt Fang saw that it was Yan Zhiwei who had bumped into her, she changed her original pained expression to a smile.
"I have some good news to tell you."
Yan Zhiwei glanced at the small basket that Aunt Fang was carrying, which contained betel nuts and chicken wine, common betrothal gifts in Lingnan wedding customs.
What's even more eye-catching is that there's another layer of things at the very bottom that shimmer in the sunlight.
It's probably not a wedding gift.
Yan Zhiwei's eyes widened.
Sparrows on the eaves chirped happily in twos and threes.
Yan Zhiwei brewed the best tea in the house and sat down in front of the Fang family mother and daughter.
Yan Zhiwei hadn't expected this day to come so soon. A tingling, itchy sensation spread from her heart to the soles of her feet.
In her past life, she was a well-known virtuous woman in her hometown, but because she was ugly, matchmakers would avoid her. Now, someone is willing to spend a lot of money to marry her.
Yan Zhiwei subconsciously touched her cheek; her young skin was as delicate as porcelain, and even the small mole was perfectly placed.
Yan Zhiwei was somewhat pleased, but also felt a sense of loss.
Her throat rose and fell, and Yan Zhiwei trembled as she asked, "Which family is it?" But as soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them; the trembling at the end of her voice didn't sound like herself at all.
Aunt Fang was still smiling, took a sip of tea, and still intended to take things a little roundabout.
“Zhiwei, your aunt has practically watched you grow up. You were just a tiny little child when you were sent to town, and now you've grown into a young lady…”
Yan Zhiwei only learned about her age and background after she had been in the world for quite some time. She is now sixteen years old. She heard that she was only ten years old when her family sent her to the town. Her family did not even leave her a maid, but only an old woman who was old and frail to take care of her. The old woman passed away in less than two years.
It was the kindness of the neighbors that allowed Yan Zhiwei to grow up with food from many families.
Even though Yan Zhiwei, who had transmigrated here, had never personally experienced the hardships of the original owner's wandering and destitution, she couldn't help but feel a little moved and her eyes reddened when she heard what Aunt Fang said.
Aunt Fang's rough hands covered Yan Zhiwei: "You're beautiful, hardworking, and you even took Mingyu in. To be honest, I really think you're kind..."
"It's not easy for you and Mingyu to live together, and you've also run a restaurant, so you're always busy. What I mean is that there's strength in numbers, and we can help each other out as family. Wouldn't that be like strengthening family ties?"
Yan Zhiwei was so engrossed in the old lady's praise that her head was bowed low, and the handkerchief in her hand was deformed.
Yan Zhiwei doesn't consider herself an independent, strong woman, nor does she have grand ambitions. She just wants to make a living with her skills, and if possible, she hopes to make life better for the people she cherishes.
As for marriage... In her previous life, Yan Zhiwei had also longed for someone to give her a safe haven. Although she knew that it was unreliable to gamble her fate on someone else, she still loved to have some unrealistic dreams.
Is it possible for someone to fall in love with her, like a fledgling bird longing for its nest, forming an innate attachment?
Yan Zhiwei remained silent with her head lowered.
"Aunt Fang, I know how you mean it."
"But marriage is not a game, and this matter still needs to be considered carefully," Yan Zhiwei said, raising her eyes.
"Of course we need to think it over carefully!" Aunt Fang laughed again. "The main problem is that our girl is really too shy. You know she's a quiet type; how could she be brave enough to express her feelings?"
Miss Fang grabbed her mother's sleeve, blushed, and looked away.
"What I mean is, I would like to trouble you to speak to Mingyu about this matter. My daughter is a nice person, and the two of them are quite familiar with each other. If we can help bring this couple together, it would be a wonderful thing!"
Aunt Fang lifted the cloth covering the basket, revealing several plump silver fish at the bottom, in addition to betel nuts and chicken wine.
"Zhiwei, this is just a small token of my appreciation," said Aunt Fang.
Yan Zhiwei was a little confused. She pointed to herself, then to the shy Miss Fang beside her, unable to believe what she had just heard.
“Aunt Fang, you don’t mean…” Yan Zhiwei grinned, her chin almost touching the ground, “You mean you want to propose marriage for Miss Fang?”
The person she's proposing to is... Zhu Mingyu?!
Yan Zhiwei's eyes were almost shattered by the shock.
Miss Fang smiled shyly, gently smoothing her waist-length hair. Aunt Fang, too, looked on expectantly, gripping Yan Zhiwei's hand tightly.
Depend on!
Yan Zhiwei's teeth were almost ground to powder.
What kind of blindness did God have? In her previous life, Yan Zhiwei was ugly and couldn't be loved. In this life, she is a beauty, skilled, and hardworking, yet no man is interested in her.
No, compared to herself, Miss Fang actually prefers Zhu Mingyu!
Even though she was the one who met Miss Fang first, and Yan Zhiwei was always the first to step forward for her whenever she needed help, Miss Fang still fell for the dull and taciturn Zhu Mingyu, despite having Yan Zhiwei as a reference.
Could it be that Zhu Mingyu secretly hooked up with someone behind my back? No wonder he's not paying attention to his work anymore; his mind is entirely on someone else.
Yan Zhiwei's eyes were almost rolling out of their sockets.
"You may leave now." Yan Zhiwei picked up the dustpan and broom again and overturned the tea set on the table to shoo the guests away.
Aunt Fang insisted, "Let's talk in detail when Mingyu comes back."
Yan Zhiwei forced a smile, thinking that it was best if Zhu Mingyu never came back, otherwise today would be both his return day and his death day!
Yan Zhiwei slammed the door shut with a "bang." The lock creaked and rattled in the wind, which swept around the fjord and across the waves, carrying the salty-sweet taste unique to Lingnan. The sea breeze slapped against Zhu Mingyu's face.
"Achoo!" Zhu Mingyu sneezed unexpectedly, even though he was far away in the county government office.
He placed the half of the gold-plated jade he carried on the cutting board, folding it across the deep, dark brows of the man opposite him. A letter lay open, bearing only two strong, cursive characters.
— "Return quickly."
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