Neither of them even ordered rice; they completely cleared the crispy fried pork and sweet and sour fish. What left Xu Chanhua feeling unsatisfied was that her son had such a small frame, yet he ate even more than she did!
“Mom, I want to eat candied haws!”
Xu Chanhua put on a stern face. “Don’t you think you’ve eaten a bit too much? Be careful or you’ll grow into a big fat boy, and your classmates at school will all laugh at you for not being able to find a wife.”
She didn’t even know to leave some for her, his mother!
“Mom, I’m only ten years old, and you’re telling me to eat less. What if I don’t grow tall? Besides, the commands of parents and the words of matchmakers dictate everything—whether I can find a wife is your responsibility, I’m not going to worry about it.”
Xu Chanhua’s face darkened. “Eat what candied haws, eat your egg custard!”
He was just making her angry on purpose~
If he angered her too much, she’d just let this rascal stay a bachelor for the rest of his life!
She glanced at the remaining, most ordinary-looking steamed egg custard.
The light yellow, set custard in the bowl was dotted with diced shrimp pieces, and beside it was a small dish of brownish-red liquid; she wasn’t sure what it was.
Xu Chanhua dipped her chopsticks into the liquid. It had a rich soy aroma and umami flavor, but the taste was a bit too heavy on its own—this was definitely not meant to be drunk like that.
She looked around for a glimpse of Iris, but instead saw Jiang Mo walking out from the kitchen after finishing her work.
Graceful and poised, she instantly drew the gazes of many people toward her.
Xu Chanhua happily beckoned, and Jiang Mo put down the cloth she was using to wipe her hands and walked over.
“Boss Jiang, we meet again,” Xu Chanhua greeted warmly, recalling old times.
“It’s my honor that the two of you came to dine at my restaurant.” Seeing that both plates on the table were empty, Jiang Mo motioned for Iris to clear the empty dishes away.
Although Xu Chanhua was a woman and usually rough around the edges on the boat with her husband, being bold and unrestrained, she genuinely loved talking to gentle women who spoke in soft tones.
Talking to Jiang Mo made her feel as though she herself had become a bit more gentle.
“I wanted to ask, what is this used for?” Xu Chanhua pointed at the small dish of soy sauce.
“This is soy sauce. You can add it to the egg custard according to your preference. If you like a lighter taste, you can eat it just like this; if you prefer a bit more flavor, you can pour the soy sauce in.”
Xu Chanhua had a sudden realization. “So that’s how it is.”
Jiang Mo nodded, and just as she was about to leave, she was called back.
“Boss Jiang, please stay a moment.”
Jiang Mo turned her head back, her peach-blossom eyes looking toward her with a trace of confusion.
Xu Chanhua asked with some embarrassment, “That hawthorn jam I bought at your stall last time—do you happen to have any more here?”
As soon as she walked in, she had searched around and hadn’t seen any trace of hawthorn jam, only the candied haws stuck by the entrance.
“That? I still have some,” Jiang Mo said.
She had sold out of her previous batch, but since diners kept coming back looking to buy it, she had made another batch and planned to put it on the counter; she just hadn’t brought it out yet.
“That’s wonderful,” Xu Chanhua slapped her thigh. “I’m taking this hawthorn jam back for my mother-in-law to eat, and she loved it so much that a whole jar didn’t even last a few days. This time I plan to ask for a lot more.”
Not only that, but she also wanted to transport the hawthorn jam back to her own region to sell—it would definitely sell well!
Jiang Mo loved large orders like this. “How many are you planning to take?”
“Let’s start with fifty jars,” Xu Chanhua said without a moment’s hesitation.
Anyway, since it was winter, it would keep well.
“No problem. When you leave, I’ll pack them all up for you.”
Having settled a matter weighing on her mind, Xu Chanhua could finally enjoy her egg custard in peace.
She picked up her spoon and took a scoop—it came up completely empty.
Looking closer at the large bowl, where was there any trace of egg custard left?!
“XU XIAOBAO!!!”
“Mom! I saw you weren’t eating and thought you were full! You didn’t say anything—how about we order another portion of egg custard?”
Xu Chanhua: “###”
This brat!!
Jiang Mo walked out the front door of the shop to get some fresh air. The candied haws on the straw pole were all sold out, leaving only the bare straw stub.
People bustled back and forth on the street, and peddlers cried out their wares.
Suddenly, a single word caught her ear, capturing her full attention:
“Honey! Freshly harvested wild honey!”
Jiang Mo followed the shouting voice and saw a young woman around her own age, wearing dusty, oversized clothes full of patches. On her mat sat three brown ceramic jars, each about the size of a palm.
A thought stirred in her mind.
Honey.
Honey could be used to make so many delicious things.
Yinling had been calling out her wares all morning, but not a single person had come to inquire about the honey, leaving her burning with anxiety.
To gather these wild honeycombs, her older brother had been stung by wild bees all over. They had no money to buy medicine and were entirely depending on these wild honeycombs to fetch a good price.
Wild honey was a good thing; commoners couldn’t afford it, yet she was unwilling to sell it cheaply. She didn’t know if her luck was just terrible today.
Just as she was thinking of moving to another spot to keep shouting, a young woman stopped right in front of her.
A light tea-colored skirt hem grazed embroidered shoes. Yinling looked up, feeling the sunlight was dazzling, making the young woman before her look like a descending fairy.
She must be a fairy, right?
Even with her face covered, she was still this beautiful.
The fairy curved her eyebrows at her. “I’m the owner of Peach Blossom Haven across the street. How much is your honey?”
Yinling was stunned for a moment, stammering, “Honey… two taels of silver per jar.”
After speaking, she felt a bit nervous and uneasy.
Was her asking price too high? What if the other person decided not to buy after all?
Jiang Mo also felt the price was a bit high.
However, having been here this long, she occasionally saw dried sea goods, but this was the first time she had ever encountered honey.
If she missed it, she wouldn’t see it again anytime soon.
She touched her money pouch, feeling her heart sink.
That silence felt quite agonizing to Yinling. “If you want them, miss, take all three jars and I’ll knock half a tael off for you, how about that?”
Jiang Mo had originally intended to take them all anyway, and hearing the other party drop the price on her own initiative, she couldn’t help but freeze in surprise.
“Well… of course that’s fine,” she agreed hesitatingly.
Yinling immediately beamed with joy, wrapping up all four corners of the ragged cloth on the ground into a bundle and handing the whole thing over to Jiang Mo.
Jiang Mo handed over the silver, and both parties parted ways happily, each returning home.
Seeing her young mistress return from an outing carrying a tattered bundle on her back, Iris found it a bit strange.
“Miss, what did you buy?”
“Ran into someone selling wild honey, so I bought some.”
As soon as Jiang Mo returned to the kitchen, Iris followed right behind her like a little tail, watching her unpack the bundle to reveal three nondescript earthen jars.
Opening the jars, the sweet fragrance characteristic of honey drifted out. Jiang Mo dipped a chopstick in and tasted a tiny bit.
The familiar, sweet-as-nectar flavor made her eyes squint shut in delight, her sense of happiness soaring instantly.
“Miss, we already have sugar, why did we buy wild honey?” Iris asked, deeply puzzled.
She knew about honey—it was also sweet, tasting much like the sugar water they boiled when making candied haws.
“Of course it’s different. Sugar is sugar, and honey is honey. Even the slightest nuance in flavor makes a difference; how can they be lumped together?” Jiang Mo instructed with a straight face.
She was someone unwilling to compromise, especially when it came to food. Even the tiniest subtle details would result in completely different textures.
Mentioning this made her suddenly crave honey fried dough twists.
Since there were no customers right now, why not make a batch to satisfy her craving?
The moment the idea crossed Jiang Mo’s mind, she was already moving into action.
The kitchen stove fire hadn’t gone out yet and it was very warm, making it just right for fermenting dough.
Jiang Mo rolled up her sleeves, revealing a section of snowy-white wrists.
A bamboo winnowing basket was piled high with freshly sifted flour, using nothing but the finest white flour as fine as winter snow.
She poured some honey into a blue-and-white porcelain bowl—golden and translucent, sparkling and pretty, faintly exuding threads of sweet fragrance.
Iris watched without blinking. Suddenly, Jiang Mo dipped a spoon into the honey and held it out.
“Come, have a taste.”
Realizing Jiang Mo had seen through her thoughts, Iris blushed and took a taste, her speech becoming halting and vague.
“So sweet… even sweeter than the honey cakes from Sweet Water Lane on the west side of the city.”
Amused by her expression, Jiang Mo chuckled softly and turned to retrieve the bamboo rolling pin from the wall.
“I’ll let you eat your fill in a moment. First, go get the sesame seeds from last time—the kind that are roasted nice and fragrant.”
Iris scurried off in a hurry, returning with a ceramic bowl full of sesame seeds just in time to see Jiang Mo slamming the kneaded dough onto a flour-dusted cutting board.
The snowy-white dough folded and turned under her palms as if imbued with life, sometimes pressed into thin sheets, sometimes rolled into smooth round shapes, and finally cut into uniform little portions.
Iris watched in a daze until Jiang Mo looked up and called her name, snapping her back to reality just in time to realize her drool was about to drip into the ceramic bowl.
“What are you daydreaming about?”
Jiang Mo used her sleeve to wipe away a bead of sweat from her temple.
“Pour the sesame seeds into this shallow plate; we need to coat the twists in a layer of sesame clothing.” She picked up a small portion of dough and skillfully rolled it between her fingertips into a slender strip, her movements fluid. “Twists need a three-strand braid to look good.”
“Miss’s hands are so clever! This dough looks practically alive in your hands!”
Iris reached out wanting to poke the dough, only to be gently tapped away by Jiang Mo using a pair of bamboo chopsticks.
The first batch of twists went into the hot oil, and the aroma burst forth overwhelmingly.
The golden twists bobbed and sank in the oil, their surfaces gradually swelling with dense little bubbles.
Jiang Mo turned them over with long chopsticks, causing the twists to spin like little goldfish in the shimmering oil.
The surfaces of the expanding twists split open with fine, delicate patterns resembling golden sunbeams, their edges curling slightly to reveal the snowy-white layers within.
Jiang Mo scooped out the twists with a bamboo skimmer, drained the excess oil, and placed them into an oil-paper-lined porcelain dish. Letting them cool slightly, she poured them into a bowl of honey water, letting the amber honey syrup coat the golden crusts before dusting them with fragrant roasted white sesame seeds.
Iris stared straight, her eyes fixed on the plate. The twists looked as though a sky full of stars had been scattered over them; amidst the flowing honey sheen, every single grain of white sesame stood out clearly, shining brighter than pearls.
Jiang Mo handed her a twist, and Iris received it with both hands.
The twist still carried a gentle warmth. The moment she bit into it, a crisp crunch rang out, and crumbs drifted down.
Iris’s eyes widened sharply, her cheeks puffing up like a little hamster.
“Mmph…”
Holding the twist in her mouth, Iris let out a muffled gasp of amazement.
The pure sweetness of honey mixed with the rich fragrance of oil spread across her lips and teeth, and the tip of her tongue could feel the sesame grains rolling and rustling between her teeth. Chewing them with a crunch-crunch texture was utterly addictive.
In a single instant, she fell completely in love with these honey-glazed little fried dough twists.
She was done for, utterly done for.
Ever since meeting her young mistress, she had turned into a fickle, inconstant person.
Every single delicacy her mistress made—she loved whichever one was right in front of her.
If food could all be scooped up and kept close like this, what on earth should she do if she met a guy she liked in the future and started loving every single one of them too?