Yu Zhile found the large wooden tub sent over by Yu Haizong and dumped the seafood into it. She then scooped out the jellyfish and placed it into a separate, smaller basin.
The ancestral house had its own well. Earlier that morning, Yu Zhile had already filled the large earthenware vat with water. Now, she scooped out two ladles, added a handful of salt, and let the seafood sit to slowly purge the sand.
“The oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar were bartered for by Second Aunt from other villagers,” Yu Yue said, arranging the seasonings on the stove. There wasn’t much of anything.
The soil in Haiyu Village was poor, and the villagers’ fishing techniques were mediocre at best. In the surrounding ten-mile radius, it was considered a poor village. People didn’t earn much throughout the year and had no spare money to stockpile seasonings. Usually, when they found seafood, they simply boiled it, sprinkled on some salt, added a dash of soy sauce, and made do.
“I’m going to the town’s Supply and Marketing Cooperative tomorrow,” Yu Zhile planned, mentally listing the items she needed. She intended to incorporate cooking segments into her future live streams, so seasonings were essential.
Yu Yue nodded. He pulled cucumbers, cilantro, and ginger from a bamboo basket, along with a bunch of tender, bright green lettuce.
“Who gave us these?” Yu Zhile asked.
The village placed great importance on social reciprocity. If you gave someone a bunch of greens today, they would return the favor with some sewing thread tomorrow. The items themselves weren’t worth much; it was the act of “coming and going” that mattered.
“Chen Zhao—Brother Chen gave them,” Yu Yue said after a moment’s hesitation.
“Chen Zhao, huh?” Yu Zhile responded casually, her mind trying to match a face to the name.
The Chen Zhao Yu Yue mentioned was a Beijing youth who had come to the countryside last autumn. He had a bit of a temper; within a month of arriving, he had fallen out with everyone at the youth hostel. Since the village had no other place for him, he had simply moved into the cowshed.
“Yeah. When he has time, Brother Chen teaches me some chemistry,” Yu Yue lowered his eyes and answered in a soft voice. He had once been a famous child prodigy in the Nanfeng Commune, but after his accident at age twelve, he had never returned to school.
“Take some seafood porridge to Chen Zhao later,” Yu Zhile said, shifting the subject while silently adding two more items to her shopping list.
As the sky darkened and cooking smoke began to curl from every house in the village, Yu Zhile began preparing dinner.
Since seafood porridge required a long simmering time, she first scooped out two bowls of rice to soak in water, then set to work on the seafood.
The Tiger Prawns were still lively, but Yu Zhile grabbed them one by one, deftly removing the heads. Yu Yue sat beside her, responsible for peeling the shells and deveining them. The two siblings worked in perfect harmony, quickly processing all the shrimp.
Next, Yu Zhile moved on to the small octopuses while Yu Yue washed the vegetables. Yu Zhile skillfully sliced open the octopus heads, removing the eggs, ink sacs, and viscera. She then flipped over the tentacles, squeezed out the beak from the center, and finally used salt to scrub away the slime from the suckers.
“Xiao Bao, what is it?” She looked up to see Yu Chi staring at her and asked softly. Yu Chi’s face was round, and his dark eyes were large and bright. Being stared at by him made Yu Zhile’s heart melt.
“Xiao Bao wants to help Sister wash the rice,” Yu Yue translated.
Yu Zhile brought over a small stool for him and placed the small wooden basin of soaking rice in front of him. She then turned her attention to the jellyfish. Processing jellyfish wasn’t difficult: she first sliced the large pieces into several smaller chunks, sliced them to the proper thickness, and then julienned them into shreds.
Once all the ingredients were ready, Yu Zhile poured a thin layer of oil into a ceramic pot. When the oil was hot, she tossed in the shrimp heads and ginger slivers. A savory aroma wafted out along with a sizzling sound as the shrimp heads turned a bright orange, releasing their flavorful oil.
Yu Zhile added water and brought it to a boil. She scooped out the shrimp heads and ginger, then added the rice and covered the pot. The fire for the porridge couldn’t be too high, and it needed to be stirred occasionally to prevent sticking. Yu Yue became the fire keeper.
Yu Zhile used mud bricks to build another small, makeshift stove, filled a half-sized earthenware jar with water, and started a fire. She added an iron pot to her shopping list; cooking in ceramic jars was too much trouble. If Yu Haizong hadn’t sent over a batch of supplies this morning, the house would only have had a single earthenware jar.
Jellyfish cannot be blanched in boiling water. When Yu Zhile estimated the temperature was around $80^\circ C$, she decisively dropped it into the pot. After ten seconds of blanching, she scooped it out with a bamboo strainer. Once all the jellyfish was blanched, she rinsed it in cool boiled water, added the julienned cucumber, soy sauce, and vinegar, then sprinkled on some cilantro. It was crisp and refreshing.
On the other side, the porridge was nearly done. Yu Zhile added the shrimp and octopus pieces into the pot and stirred. Once the shrimp changed color, she added a pinch of salt, a few drops of sesame oil, and finally, the shredded lettuce, letting it simmer for another thirty seconds.
The savory-sweet aroma of the seafood porridge filled the entire courtyard. Yu Zhile smiled with satisfaction. No matter the era, good food was always the best comfort for the soul.
She scooped out a large bowl of porridge and set aside a small basin of the cold jellyfish salad, handing them to Yu Yue. “Go on. Xiao Bao and I will wait for you to come home before we eat.”
The path around the house was in good condition, so Yu Yue encountered no obstacles on his way to the cowshed. From inside, Chen Zhao’s voice drifted out: “Pah, pah! Why is it bitter? Jiang Shangqing, is this stuff even edible?”
“Those are spicy snails,” Jiang Shangqing replied coldly.
Seeing that Chen Zhao was about to start a one-sided argument with Jiang Shangqing, Yu Yue immediately called out to him.
Chen Zhao was instantly drawn to the aroma coming from the basket on Yu Yue’s lap. His eyes lit up. “Yu Yue! Did you know Jiang Shangqing was cooking these inedible spicy snails and come specifically to rescue me?”
As the seawater warmed up, spicy snails were easy to find, but they didn’t taste great after being boiled—a bit spicy and quite bitter. Even the people of Haiyu Village rarely bothered to pick them.
Yu Yue didn’t answer his question but handed over the basket. “Thank you for the vegetables.”
“It was just a few greens. How can I take so much from you?” Chen Zhao demurred, though his eyes were glued to the porridge and the cold jellyfish.
Yu Yue smiled and rolled his wheelchair away. Even several meters out, he could still hear Chen Zhao’s incessant chattering to Jiang Shangqing.
By the time he reached home, the porridge was at the perfect temperature to eat. The three of them simultaneously took a spoonful, their movements synchronized as if rehearsed, and they all wore the same expression of bliss.
The rice provided by the system was incredibly fragrant. Combined with the firm, sweet shrimp meat, every bite was satisfying. The crisp lettuce shreds added texture, elevating the flavor even further. The cold jellyfish was tangy and refreshing, with the cucumber slivers doing their part to wake up the taste buds.
Meanwhile, Chen Zhao squinted his eyes in enjoyment, and the dinner table in the cowshed enjoyed a rare moment of peace.
The next morning, as the sky was barely beginning to turn gray, Yu Zhile left the house and hurried to the village entrance where the bullock cart stopped.
Spring plowing had just finished, and there was a large market fair in town. The bullock cart was already packed with people heading to the market. As soon as Yu Zhile found a place to sit, an older woman leaned over to gossip about the family division.
“Le-ni, I heard your family got this much?” The woman spread her hand, gesturing a number. “Your Third Aunt is wailing at home every single day!”
The chatter on the cart quieted down as everyone eavesdropped. Yu Zhile gave the woman a thin smile and said softly, “You’re really worrying about things that are none of your business.”
“You! You ungrateful girl! I’m truly casting pearls before swine,” the woman sputtered, so angry she resorted to a line from a traditional opera.
Yu Zhile recognized her: Auntie Huang, one of the three biggest gossips in Haiyu Village. She loved to stir up trouble; she’d find something to say about a passing dog if she could. Yu Zhile ignored her and closed her eyes to rest, failing to notice a girl in the crowd whose eyes were flickering with unease.
“Let’s go!” Old Man Yu, the driver, flicked his long whip, and the bullock cart wobbled forward.
By the time they reached the market, it was broad daylight. Old Man Yu set a return time and, after giving instructions, drove the cart under a locust tree to rest.
The market at Nanfeng Commune happened once a month and was very lively. The stalls were mostly run by the “sideline production groups” of various villages, and things were sold cheaply. Yu Zhile was dazzled by the variety. By the end of one loop, her basket was packed tight, and she had spent less than five yuan.
Along the way, she ran into several villagers who shook their heads at her purchases, lamenting that she didn’t know how to manage a household. Yu Zhile ignored them and headed for her final stop. On the way, she spotted stalls selling starfruit and small cherries and bought a bag of each.
The villages of Dazhu and Datao were neighbors, and their stalls were set up together in a corner, with goods spread across the ground. She circled the two stalls for several minutes, feeling conflicted. There were too many things she wanted to buy, and getting them back to the village would be a problem.
The man from the Datao Village sideline group was sharp. Sensing Yu Zhile was a big customer, he took the initiative to ask, “Lass, which village are you from? If it’s on our way, we can deliver it to your door.”
“I’m from Haiyu Village,” Yu Zhile’s eyes lit up.
The man laughed heartily. “Haiyu Village isn’t far from us. Pick whatever you like.”
With his guarantee, Yu Zhile bought over a dozen pickling jars of various sizes, along with several sets of decent-looking tableware and some large earthenware vats. After picking out the ceramics, she went to the bamboo goods. Sifters, fruit baskets, bamboo chairs, bamboo sieves—she didn’t miss a single thing. Finally, she even snatched up the “treasure of the stall” that the Dazhu Village group hadn’t been able to sell for several market cycles—a bamboo rocking chair.
Yu Zhile paid the deposit promptly. The men from Dazhu and Datao villages were grinning from ear to ear, patting their chests and promising to deliver everything to her house as soon as the market dispersed.
With the meeting time approaching and a trip to the Supply and Marketing Cooperative still ahead, she hurried to the locust tree. She handed Old Man Yu two pieces of malt candy and asked him to watch her basket.
“No need for that, just go. I’ll watch it for you,” the old man waved her off. Technically, he and Old Mr. Yu shared the same ancestor, so Yu Zhile was like a grand-niece to him.
Yu Zhile pressed the candy into his hand anyway. “Grandpa, have something sweet.”
She turned and ran to the Supply and Marketing Cooperative, where she bought a two-month supply of oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar, making the clerk behind the counter stare in surprise. Next, she went to another counter and weighed out a pound of peach crisps and a pound of fruit candies.
As she passed the fabric counter, a woman called out to her, “Le-ni, why didn’t you come when Taohong was working?”
Yu Zhile stopped. The “Yu Taohong” the woman mentioned was the old lady’s favorite youngest daughter.
“Auntie, our families have split,” she said, her single sentence cutting off the woman’s attempt at small talk.
The woman gave a sheepish smile. “Oh… Taohong didn’t mention that to me.”
Yu Zhile curled her lip and left. After exiting the cooperative, however, she felt as though someone was following her. Turning around abruptly, she saw a thin figure dart into an alley. A few seconds later, the person walked up to Yu Zhile with small, hesitant steps and said weakly, “I… I just saw you buying a lot of things at the market. I wanted to ask if you want to buy some flowers to take home and plant?”
As she spoke, she lifted the layer of grass covering her bamboo basket.
“This is ‘speculation and profiteering,'” Yu Zhile said, looking at her warily.
The girl was very thin, with a chin that looked almost unnaturally sharp. Her clothes were tattered, but her fingernails were clean. Hearing Yu Zhile’s words, her face turned pale, and she shook her head frantically. “No… I… I’m not…”
“Wait, I’ll take them all,” Yu Zhile called out before the girl could run away, handing her fifty cents. The girl whispered a thank you and ran off.
By the time Yu Zhile returned to the locust tree, half the people had already arrived, gathered in small groups gossiping about her. In just a few hours, she had become the poster child for “household squanderer” in everyone’s eyes. Facing their unsolicited advice, she simply replied calmly, “Did I use your family’s money?”
It was noon by the time they reached the village. Yu Zhile used a great deal of effort to move her purchases to the front of the house, only to see a large bamboo crate sitting there.
A faint whimpering sound was coming from inside the crate.