Peel the pumpkin and cut it into small pieces. Place them in a pot of cold water, bring to a boil over high heat, add the millet, then reduce to low heat…
Sheng An used an earthen pot. The millet pumpkin porridge cooked in an earthen pot had a better texture than that made in a large stove with an iron wok.
If a clay pot and low flame were used to simmer it slowly, the porridge would taste even better than the one cooked in an earthen pot over a stove fire. However, it required constant attention to the heat, and Sheng An found it too troublesome, so she simply used the earthen pot.
Outside the kitchen, a young maid peered through the window and saw Sheng An sitting leisurely by the stove, cracking melon seeds. She couldn’t help but feel skeptical and whispered to the head matron:
“That young woman inside doesn’t look like a master chef at all. Could she be here to swindle the household?”
After all, in the past, when the master had invited renowned chefs, even if the delicacies they prepared failed to please the young master, the master would still present them with valuable gifts and send them off respectfully.
This woman looked shabby and poor—she was probably here with that very intention.
The head matron privately shared the same suspicion but didn’t voice her agreement:
“Whether she is or not has nothing to do with our kitchen. If she offends the master, she’ll bear the consequences herself. It’s not our place to worry for her.”
The young maid thought this made sense but still felt indignant: “What if she really manages to pull it off? Wouldn’t that be letting her off too easily?”
The head matron glanced at her: “Look at you, so short-sighted. If you had her nerve, why don’t you try your luck in front of the master too?”
The young maid immediately fell silent.
She certainly didn’t have the ability to swindle the master without getting caught.
As the two chatted idly, they suddenly caught a whiff of a rich, sweet fragrance that instantly lifted their spirits.
“What is this…”
The head matron instinctively looked into the kitchen, her gaze falling on the earthen pot bubbling on the stove.
The sweet aroma was emanating from that very pot.
It was unmistakably the scent of millet and pumpkin!
Yet this delicate sweetness seemed miraculously amplified countless times, as if every pore was bathed in this unique fragrance, making one’s mouth water uncontrollably.
Gradually, the kitchen doorway was crowded with people, all staring in disbelief at the earthen pot, unable to believe that millet and pumpkin, when cooked together, could produce such an irresistible aroma.
The head matron murmured, “I thought she was a fraud, but it turns out she has real skill.”
Beside her, the young maid swallowed hard, fully agreeing with the head matron’s words.
The fragrance grew stronger and drifted into the neighboring courtyard, catching the attention of several sweeping women who kept glancing toward the kitchen, assuming the head matron and her team were secretly preparing something delicious.
Their faces were filled with envy. After a sigh, they bent down and resumed their sweeping.
Sheng An felt it was about time. She lifted the lid of the earthen pot, picked up a spoon, and stirred while mashing the softened pumpkin into a paste, blending it thoroughly with the millet.
After simmering for another ten minutes or so, the aroma of the millet and pumpkin reached its peak. Sheng An deftly lifted the earthen pot and placed it on the nearby counter to cool.
The head matron walked in, swallowing her saliva, her eyes practically glued to the earthen pot: “Sheng Niang Zi, is the porridge ready? Shall I take it to the young master?”
The young master had a poor appetite—if he could manage a few sips, that would be an achievement. As for the rest of the pot, she could happily finish it herself.
Sheng An didn’t refuse: “Prepare two sets of bowls and spoons. I’ll go with you.”
Though confident in her culinary skills, Sheng An wasn’t entirely certain about this millet pumpkin porridge, given the severity of Ding Tianci’s anorexia.
She needed to personally understand the diner’s feedback to make timely adjustments accordingly.
With a reward of at least a hundred taels of fine silver, she had to ensure Master Ding felt it was worth the price.
Master Ding had already stationed someone outside the kitchen. Upon hearing that Sheng An had taken the prepared food to his grandson’s courtyard, he immediately set aside his account books and hurried over with Changfu.
Inside the room, Ding Tianci leaned on a lounge chair, his gaze involuntarily drawn to the earthen pot on the round huanghuali wood table. His throat visibly moved.
The light, sweet aroma wafting from the pot stirred in him, for the second time, an impulse to eat—something he had long lost interest in, even grown to detest.
The first time had been yesterday’s bowl of cold wontons.
“Ding Shao Ye, this is millet pumpkin porridge I cooked myself, without any seasonings. Please try it,” Sheng An said, personally removing the lid and ladling a bowl of porridge for Jian Ying, Ding Tianci’s personal maid.
As for the matron in charge, she hadn’t even been allowed to step past the outer gate, having been dismissed with a single word from Jian Ying.
Jian Ying took the bowl, testing its temperature with her palm. Only when sure it wasn’t too hot did she scoop a spoonful and carefully bring it to her young master’s lips. “Young Master,” she murmured.
Looking at the golden-hued food before him, its sweet fragrance growing stronger, Ding Tianci almost impatiently opened his mouth.
Just as the spoon touched his lips, Master Ding’s anxious voice came from outside: “Tianci, has Tianci eaten yet?”
Hearing this, Ding Tianci shifted his gaze to the doorway.
At the sight of his grandfather, a rare smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Master Ding strode in just in time to see his grandson smiling at him. For a moment, he stood frozen, somewhat at a loss.
How long had it been? How long since his grandson had last smiled?
Noticing this, Sheng An spoke up: “Master Ding, this pot of porridge is enough for two. Why not join Ding Shao Ye for a meal?”
Master Ding snapped out of his daze, wiping his eyes and nodding repeatedly. “Good, good! I’ll eat with Tianci!”
Taking the brimming bowl Changfu handed him, Master Ding—accustomed to delicacies from land and sea—initially paid it little mind.
But as the clear, sweet scent drifted into his nostrils, evoking images of vast fertile fields and abundant harvests of autumn, his attention turned fully to the millet pumpkin porridge in his hands.
Confirming that this appetite-tempting aroma indeed came from such an ordinary-looking bowl of porridge, Master Ding’s shrewd face showed an expression of disbelief.
Sheng An was pleased with the reactions of the grandfather and grandson. Her clear voice brushed past like a gentle breeze:
“Ding Shao Ye has a weak spleen and stomach, making him unsuitable for rich foods. Millet pumpkin porridge is soft, mildly sweet, and easy to digest—very fitting for his current condition.”
Master Ding listened and nodded.
Previously, renowned chefs had carefully prepared porridges for his grandson under the physician’s advice, using ingredients like minced meat, fish, or shrimp.
While such porridges were indeed fragrant and flavorful, his grandson couldn’t even bear the smell—vomiting from a distance.
They had also tried plain vegetable porridges, but those were too bland, failing to stir his grandson’s appetite, let alone persuade him to take a bite.
At this thought, Master Ding’s regard for the millet pumpkin porridge transformed completely.
Under his grandfather’s expectant and nervous gaze, Ding Tianci eagerly ate the spoonful of porridge brought to his lips.
In an instant, Master Ding was moved to tears: “Good, good…”
Spoonful after spoonful, Ding Tianci drank the porridge with increasing speed.
Seeing his grandson eating so heartily, Master Ding’s tears flowed unceasingly.
If there hadn’t been outsiders in the room, he would have long lost control and burst into loud sobs.
When only a small portion of the bowl of porridge remained, Sheng An promptly stopped Jian Ying from continuing to feed him: “That’s enough for today. If you feel hungry in the afternoon, another half bowl will suffice.”
The Ding family grandfather and grandson were no fools and instantly understood Sheng An’s meaning.
Having not eaten properly for two years, Ding Tianci’s stomach had long shriveled beyond recognition.
This large half-bowl of Millet Pumpkin Porridge was the limit of his stomach’s capacity; any more would surely make him vomit.
“Tianci, how are you feeling?”
Master Ding watched his grandson nervously, fearing he would see him retch and vomit the next moment.
Such scenes had occurred daily over the past two years.
After waiting nearly a quarter of an hour, Ding Tianci showed no signs of vomiting, and both Master Ding and Sheng An breathed long sighs of relief.
Even Ding Tianci himself found it incredible, his gaze toward Sheng An growing increasingly bright.
“Sheng Niang Zi, thank you, thank you…”
Master Ding was so overwhelmed he could barely form complete sentences, his gratitude toward Sheng An beyond measure.
This small bowl of porridge was sustaining his grandson’s life!
This young girl before him would be his grandson’s savior!
Next, Master Ding discussed with Sheng An, hoping she could come to the Ding family daily to prepare three meals for Ding Tianci until he recovered fully.
He had considered asking her to stay directly, but having inquired about her situation the previous day, he knew she was married and that staying at the Ding residence would be inappropriate, so he refrained from suggesting it.
With a hundred taels of Fine Silver dangling before her, Sheng An naturally wouldn’t refuse Master Ding’s request, agreeing to come to the estate to cook for Ding Tianci after finishing her stall duties each day.
What to cook would be entirely her decision.
When leaving, the carriage Sheng An rode in was even more spacious and luxurious.
Following behind was another large carriage piled high with gifts.
Meanwhile, Grandma Sheng stood at the entrance of the Xu Family residence, her eyes frequently glancing toward the end of the alley.
As her granddaughter’s figure remained unseen, her wrinkled face gradually filled with worry.
The old woman didn’t know how wealthy the Ding family was, nor what Master Ding had asked her granddaughter to do. She had only learned from Steward Yang’s son that the Ding family was a colossal entity that neither the Sheng nor Xu families could afford to provoke.
Grandma Sheng had never dreamed that her granddaughter would become involved with such a household.
Remembering village tales about wealthy families being cruel and unkind, where a careless word could lead to a beating death, Grandma Sheng couldn’t suppress her fear.
“I must find Jinnian, have Jinnian go check on the Ding family!”
The more Grandma Sheng thought about it, the more anxious she became. She turned to enter the house and ask Xu Chenglin where Xu Jinnian’s Fuzi lived.
Just then, her granddaughter’s familiar voice called from afar: “Grandma—”
Grandma Sheng whirled around to see a large carriage approaching up ahead, her granddaughter leaning out with a bright smile, waving enthusiastically.
Her heart, suspended for half the day, finally settled back in place.
The two luxurious carriages passing through the narrow alley immediately attracted the attention of neighbors, who gathered at their doors to watch the spectacle.
When they saw Sheng An alighting from the carriage, one by one, their jaws dropped in astonishment.
The newlywed bride of the Xu Family, what exactly is her background? How could she return in such a magnificent carriage?
Could it be like those stories sung in operas—that she’s actually a young lady from a noble family, who accidentally ended up in the countryside as a village girl, and now her real family has come for her?
Oh my goodness!