“Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle.”
Dozens of pieces spun rapidly in the pot. The crispy aroma of fried food and the fresh scent of shrimp grew stronger and stronger.
But… the anticipated scene of the shrimp chips puffing up like snowflakes didn’t happen.
Zhuang Yubai was stunned. Could it be that the oil temperature wasn’t high enough?
He added more firewood under the stove. The smoke was already billowing up, but the pieces just kept spinning with a “sizzle, sizzle, sizzle,” and soon turned a caramel color. If he didn’t take them out now, they’d burn!
Zhuang Yubai quickly cleared the pot.
It wasn’t the oil temperature. Maybe he put them in too early?
Unwilling to give up, Zhuang Yubai put in another batch of pieces.
They sank, bubbled, floated up with a “bloop, bloop,” and then “sizzle, sizzle, sizzle”… The same mistake was repeated all over again.
It seemed the issue wasn’t with the cooking process but with the preparation of the pieces.
He extinguished the fire. A plate of caramel-colored food lay in front of a displeased Zhuang Yubai, like a defeated general being paraded around a battlefield littered with corpses.
“Crispy and full of flavor, with a sweet shrimp taste,” Meng Zhizhang tried a piece. “These jade pieces taste great!”
Zhuang Yubai weakly lifted his eyelids to glance at Meng Zhizhang, whose face was full of sincerity. Unable to resist the invitation, he picked up a piece.
“Crunch, crunch.” It wasn’t inedible, nor was it bad, but it wasn’t shrimp chips. The texture was more like shrimp-flavored rice crackers, hard, crispy, and savory.
“Brother Meng, the jade pieces didn’t puff up, and the color is off. There must be an issue with the preparation of the pieces. I’ll need to research the ingredient ratios again,” Zhuang Yubai sighed deeply. “You probably won’t be able to take these to the private school today.”
“Who says jade pieces have to be white? Obsidian is also a type of jade, isn’t it?” Meng Zhizhang, usually so serious, surprisingly made a joke.
Zhuang Yubai knew Meng Zhizhang was trying to comfort him.
Meng Zhizhang changed into his long robe to go to the private school, taking a small bag of wheat with him, saying he’d grind some more flour and come back. He added lightly, “We still have some grain at home, and the new summer harvest is coming soon. We can try a few more times. No rush.”
The courtyard returned to silence, with only the occasional chirping of unknown birds outside.
Zhuang Yubai sat on a small wooden stool in the courtyard, the warm sunlight casting a small shadow.
He felt as if he were being drenched by the sunlight, like a long-haired doll being forcibly submerged in water, a cold, wet, and empty feeling of suffocation enveloping him.
Zhuang Yubai shivered. Though it was an illusion, the sensation felt so real, as if he had experienced it before.
The success of the gluten was real, and the praise for it was real too. But the main product—the shrimp chips—had truly failed this time.
Time, materials, and money had all been invested, yet not a penny had been earned. Oh, and that peddler Zhang hadn’t shown up since he left. Could there be a problem there too?
When things don’t go well, people often get stuck in a rut, easily negating everything from the past. While results are important, dismissing all other efforts is making a mountain out of a molehill.
But Zhuang Yubai was different. Even on rainy days, his inner sunshine was full of energy, not only recharging himself but also brightening the damp surroundings.
The long-haired doll quickly emerged from the water, shaking off the droplets, and looked up at the sky. The sun was shining brightly today. If he started making the pieces again now, they should be ready to fry by tomorrow.
When Meng Zhizhang returned from the private school, the courtyard was bustling with pieces reflecting the sunset glow. The sieves were filled with freshly washed starch and a large batch of “golden balls” waiting to be packaged.
“Brother Meng, you’re back! We’re getting ready to eat!”
Zhuang Yubai poked his head out from the bustling stove, his face beaming with a bright smile, the morning’s little cloud long gone.
Meng Zhizhang placed the freshly ground flour into the rice jar in the kitchen, dusted off the remaining flour from his hands, and took out a small bundle of wild vegetables, saying they were a gift from Aunt Niu.
The wheat bran from grinding was always left for the Niu family, as they had a donkey, and it made good feed.
Zhuang Yubai took the bundle, a handful of tender gray vegetables, and laughed, “Just right for today’s jade piece soup.”
When dinner was served, Meng Zhizhang took one look and understood what “jade piece soup” meant.
Although the first batch of shrimp pieces hadn’t been a complete success, it didn’t affect the deliciousness of the ingredients themselves. Since they weren’t fit for “external sale,” they were “internally consumed.” Zhuang Yubai changed the cooking method; if frying didn’t work, they’d boil them for personal use.
A white porcelain bowl held the light orange, semi-transparent boiled shrimp pieces, with green wild vegetable leaves adorning the top, making it a feast for the eyes. The shrimp pieces were smooth and chewy, the leaves glossy and tender, enhancing the flavor.
The fresh aroma of the wild vegetables and the sweet taste of the shrimp paste perfectly blended in the small bowl, soothing and rewarding the two young men within the humble abode.
In the following days, shrimp pieces appeared on the table paired with various ingredients: shrimp piece porridge, boiled shrimp pieces with cucumber, shrimp pieces with steamed egg…
Different combinations, same ingredients.
Meng Zhizhang accepted them all, never refusing, no matter the dish on the table, wholeheartedly playing the role of a “clean plate ambassador.” After eating, he’d always express his gratitude with a “The taste is excellent.”
*
The private school ended early today, and when Meng Zhizhang got home, it was still bright outside.
He glanced at the mulberry leaf package in his hand, pushed the door open with a light heart. Thinking about what kind of jade piece combination might appear on the table today, his eyes softened.
The wooden gate opened, and Meng Zhizhang paused, his heart sinking bit by bit.
The courtyard was quiet and bare, completely devoid of the recent chaos. The racks and sieves for drying starch and shrimp pieces were gone. The ground was clean, freshly swept, with a faint earthy scent in the air.
A bad feeling crept over him.
Meng Zhizhang understood what the scene before him meant. But he didn’t want to believe it.
The strap of his document bag dangled by his leg, shaking vigorously as his steps quickened. Swinging between the white long robe was an unprecedented sense of disorder and chaos.
The kitchen was empty too.
Empty, tidy, with pots and pans in their places, showing no signs of use.
Gone was the usual hustle and bustle, gone was the voice saying, “You’re back, let’s eat!” and gone were the eyes that grew brighter under the steam.
Everything felt like a dream that had never been disturbed.
Before he could savor it, suddenly, the dream was about to end.
Meng Zhizhang stood still in the courtyard, the remaining sunlight still strong, casting a blinding white light before his eyes.
The quiet, the solitude that had accompanied him for three whole years seemed to have returned.
Meng Zhizhang raised his hand to shield the sun, steadying himself. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of something, quickening his pace, and in a few steps, he was at the main house door.
The door was ajar. He took a deep breath, but his raised hand hesitated.
The wooden door opened, the bed was tidy, the room serene.
By the sunlit desk… someone was sitting, head down, reading a book!
Amber hair caught the light, like translucent butterfly wings, seemingly ready to flutter away with the wind.
The person was still there.
Thank goodness.
Meng Zhizhang unconsciously let out a breath. The heavy stone in his heart finally settled.
In that moment, countless thoughts flashed through his mind, and his heart, surprisingly, was in disarray.
It turned out that at some point, Meng Zhizhang had grown accustomed to having someone waiting at home. This feeling…
Meng Zhizhang didn’t think further. He walked over to Zhuang Yubai, filled with the lightness and joy of regaining something lost.
“I’m back!” Today’s sunlight was truly wonderful.
*
Zhuang Yubai looked up from his book. Today, Meng Zhizhang seemed full of energy, as if something extraordinary had made him happy.
“What’s this?” Zhuang Yubai’s gaze was drawn to the crumpled mulberry leaf package in Meng Zhizhang’s hand.
The edges of the green mulberry leaves seeped with a purplish-red juice, staining the fingers pressing down on it. The juice gathered, seemingly about to drip.
Meng Zhizhang, dressed in a white robe with a blue collar, would find it hard to clean if stained by such deep juice.
“Watch your clothes!”
Zhuang Yubai quickly closed his book on the table, got up from his chair, and took the item from Meng Zhizhang’s hand.
With his hand suddenly empty, Meng Zhizhang looked down to see that he had inadvertently crushed the mulberry leaf package he had been holding.
“No worries.” He took back the mulberry leaf package, carefully unfolding the leaves one by one.
On the green leaves lay small, purple, shiny fruits, with long green stems delicately hanging from their ends, plump and adorable.
Freshly picked mulberries.
“I ran into Liu Shu from Brother Yun’s family in the woods, and he gave me a handful,” Meng Zhizhang said, offering them to Zhuang Yubai. “Picked from the woods. Though not as big as the ones in the market, they taste great. Try some.”
Zhuang Yubai loved berries.
But berries were hard to preserve and transport, and those sold in supermarkets were picked when only 70-80% ripe. It was rare to taste fully ripe ones from the tree.
He picked one from Meng Zhizhang’s hand, gently bit into it, and the juice burst instantly, splattering his lips. The rich fruit aroma was highlighted by a clear acidity, perfectly balanced with sweetness, filling his mouth with saliva.
Zhuang Yubai gave a big thumbs up, picked the largest one, and held it to Meng Zhizhang’s lips. “Sweet! You try one too!”
“…” Meng Zhizhang was momentarily stunned.
Zhuang Yubai moved the mulberry closer, raising an eyebrow. “What, is this mulberry poisonous? You can’t eat it?”
A tremor flickered in Meng Zhizhang’s eyes as he looked at the mulberry in front of him. “…I’ll do it myself.” He reached out to take it.
“You’ll do it yourself?” Zhuang Yubai dodged back, the mulberry swaying in his hand. “Is my hand poisonous?”
“Of course not.” Meng Zhizhang, unable to catch the mulberry, hesitated, feeling a bit awkward. “I…”
“You think I’m trying to poison you and take over your entire estate!” Zhuang Yubai pretended to be angry.
“No! It’s just that I…”
Usually calm and composed, Meng Zhizhang found himself flustered, his ears turning red. He hadn’t expected to encounter a situation he couldn’t handle.
But this indeed put Meng Zhizhang in a difficult spot. Since he could remember, no one had ever fed him like this.
Coincidentally, since he could remember, Zhuang Yubai hadn’t fed anyone like this either. But for some reason, he felt like teasing Meng Zhizhang today. They’re good brothers, so what’s wrong with feeding him a mulberry!
The two stood awkwardly in place.
Sunlight shifted, the shadow of the window frame slowly climbing onto the shoulder draped with amber hair, spreading over the mulberry held high.
Someone had to give in, someone had to break the stalemate.
“Well… thank you, Brother Amber.”
Meng Zhizhang seemed to make a decision, stepping forward, bending down to reach for the mulberry Zhuang Yubai held by his ear.
Unexpectedly, just as he was about to reach it, the mulberry moved further back.
Author’s Note:
Brother Meng, go for it. It’s just a little mulberry, take it! [Evil smile]