Passing by various stalls, Ding Baozhu soon spotted a stall that seemed to be selling wontons.
Although there were only a few tables and benches, it was already packed to capacity. There were even people lining up for takeout; it seemed the flavor here was truly good.
However, after inquiring, she found that a bowl of their signature chicken soup wontons actually cost five copper coins. Since Ding Baozhu was currently in a state of being “pockets-shy,” she had no choice but to give up on it.
Fortunately, she soon found a porridge stall. She found a seat and sat down, and the woman running the stall came forward to attend to her.
Ding Baozhu asked a few questions and learned that the porridge was divided into many types: beans, nuts, and various meat or vegetable ingredients could all be simmered into it—they didn’t even leave out flowers.
But all of the above cost varying amounts of copper coins. However, if it was just a bowl of plain porridge, it didn’t cost anything. Ding Baozhu immediately ordered a bowl.
To her surprise, the proprietress smiled and said:
“Just ordering porridge won’t give your mouth much flavor. You look like a new face, young lady; why not try our homemade side dishes?”
“Spicy ginger, dried radish, pickled bamboo shoots, salted mustard—go ahead and ask around; not a single person says they aren’t delicious.”
So, this was where the catch was. She knew there was no such thing as a free meal in this world.
Since things were already like this, Ding Baozhu picked a combination of dried radish and salted mustard, which only cost one copper coin.
The porridge had likely been simmered early on and kept warm. The woman quickly brought a bowl of porridge and a small dish of side dishes.
Wisps of steam curled up from the surface of the greyish-white porridge. The small dish held yellow-red dried radish and verdant salted mustard, looking very appetizing.
Ding Baozhu picked up her chopsticks, peeled back the “skin” of the porridge, and blew on it for a good while before taking a careful sip. She tasted that it was a bowl of brown rice porridge.
A bowl of brown rice porridge was actually worth one coin, but clearly, the woman at the stall knew how to do business; by focusing on the side dishes, she could still turn a profit.
The dried radish and salted mustard were also salty, aromatic, and crisp—one was appetizing, and the other was perfect with rice. Ding Baozhu finished the porridge quickly, feeling warm all over, with a light sweat breaking out on her forehead.
With breakfast settled, Ding Baozhu continued her exploration.
Aside from the small vendors and stalls, most of the shops had opened their doors: grocery stores, oil mills, blacksmith shops, fabric and tailor shops, pharmacies and clinics, pawnshops, and various shops related to food and drink.
However, Xiang’an Town was just a small town. Although basic necessities like clothing, food, housing, and transportation could generally be resolved, there were few large-scale shops.
Ding Baozhu looked here and picked there, essentially “just looking and not buying”—this was the true essence of window shopping!
Seeing that she had almost finished browsing the town market and that there was still some time before Ding Hong finished his morning labor, Ding Baozhu found a teahouse and went inside.
It just so happened that the teahouse had invited a storyteller to tell a tale today. He had already begun, telling some supernatural legends. She chose a seat, and before long, someone came to serve her.
The lowest grade of tea here was also free of charge, but drinking tea inevitably had to be accompanied by tea snacks, and those snacks were not free.
Moreover, drinking tea has always been an elegant affair, so the snacks were actually somewhat expensive.
Ding Baozhu had seven coins left, so she spent five coins to order a dish of jujube paste pastries.
A short while later, they were brought out. On a white porcelain dish were four yellowish-white pastries, each a bit larger than a copper coin.
The teacup had also been filled with hot water, with tiny tea leaves floating in it. They were likely low-grade loose tea, leaving only a hint of tea flavor.
Ding Baozhu took a few sips and then picked up a jujube paste pastry and took a bite.
The jujube paste filling wasn’t very smooth; it was a bit coarse, and the pastry skin was just a simple dough, but at least the taste was sweet. It was best for pairing with tea and eating slowly.
But she suddenly thought that she should be able to make even more delicious jujube cakes, and some of the materials were even very easy for her to obtain.
This was because the Ding family grew two jujube trees. Every time the jujubes ripened, they would go to beat the trees to harvest them.
Fresh ones could be sold, and they could also be dried into jujube snacks for storage. Some neighbors who wanted to buy jujubes didn’t even leave the village; they just came directly to the Ding family.
Despite this, Ding Baozhu remembered that the family still kept some jujubes.
While considering the future in her mind, the storyteller’s mouth hadn’t stopped for a moment, making the tale interesting and captivating.
Estimating that the time was nearly up, Ding Baozhu had someone wrap up the remaining jujube cakes to take with her. Only then did she notice a group of people crouching or leaning against the teahouse entrance, also drinking tea and cracking nuts while listening to the storytelling.
Returning along the road to the Butcher’s Guild, Ding Baozhu noticed that the number of pedestrians on the street was increasing. Many carried baskets on their arms or frames on their backs; the flow of people was like a woven tapestry, and the noise was incessant.
Arriving at the entrance of the Butcher’s Guild, Ding Baozhu did not enter. She saw some neatly dressed people going in and coming out empty-handed; they were likely just placing orders for goods.
In less than a quarter of an hour, Ding Hong came out. It seemed it was truly hot inside the Guild; even his collar had faint sweat stains.
He spotted Ding Baozhu at once and smiled:
“Have you been waiting long?”
“No, Father, I just arrived as well.”
Ding Baozhu shook her head and answered, then smiled:
“Are you hungry, Father? Let’s go eat lunch!”
“You child, I see you were just waiting for lunch, weren’t you?”
Ding Hong sighed helplessly, but facing his daughter, he couldn’t bear to refuse. Besides, he needed to fill his own stomach, so he gave a large wave of his hand.
“Alright, let’s go. I’ll take you to the shop I frequent!”
As it neared noon, not only were more shops starting to operate, but even small restaurants and wine shops had their doors wide open, with tempting aromas slowly drifting out from within.
But in the end, the two of them arrived at a shop and sat down.
It was a shop selling “Topping Noodles” (Jiaotou noodles). Beside them were many strong men, similar to Ding Hong, who were buried in their bowls, slurping noodles loudly. It sounded delicious; she wondered if they were all colleagues from the Butcher’s Guild.
Suddenly, she heard someone nearby call out:
“Yo, Old Ding, this must be your daughter, right? She’s about to be married off soon, isn’t she? Can we come for the wedding wine?”
Ding Baozhu carefully stole a glance. There were several strong men sitting at a table not far away.
Their voices were loud; once those words were out, almost everyone in the shop knew.
However, no one really looked over—they were busy eating; who had the heart to care about such trivial matters?
When Ding Baozhu had tied her hair this morning, she had used some stray hairs to cover the nearly healed wound. Furthermore, that was considered family shame; it was impossible for Ding Hong to tell outsiders directly. It seemed these people were not from Xiangshan Village.
Before Ding Hong could speak, Ding Baozhu smiled first and said:
“Hello, Uncles. If you want to drink wedding wine, just come to our village when the time comes. Just don’t forget to bring a gift!”
She had already heard the joking tone in their words, so she made a few jokes herself and let it pass. Since they weren’t from the same village, the relationship wasn’t that close.
Those men indeed exchanged pleasantries, and seeing that Ding Baozhu was so natural and not at all awkward, they added a few words of praise before going back to ordering their noodles.
Ding Hong not only felt like he had gained some face, but he also whispered with a laugh:
“Baozhu, that hit to your head actually smoothed out your old temper. It’s truly miraculous!”
Ding Baozhu asked with a smile:
“Then does Father like me the way I am now, or the way I was before?”
“Ah, what’s there to compare? You’re my eldest daughter either way. Before, you were sometimes truly impulsive; it’s good if your temper can be restrained… Alright, let’s not talk about that. Quick, see what you want to eat?”
Ding Hong waved his hand, and a waiter hurried forward to inquire.
Topping Noodles consist of toppings and noodles, but they are sold separately. The noodles are the base, and you can order as many toppings as you want, as long as you have the money.
Ding Baozhu hadn’t done much today, so she ordered a bowl of Eight Treasure Noodles. However, Ding Hong had been busy for half the day and decisively ordered a bowl of Braised Meat Noodles.
Ding Baozhu took note and realized that the two bowls of noodles had already cost more than twenty copper coins. If this were someone who only made a living by chopping wood and selling charcoal, they would probably truly be unwilling to spend it. However, Ding Hong and his colleagues from the Butcher’s Guild were already regulars here.
Truth be told, high prices will likely always be the fate of the South…
Fortunately, Ding Hong earned a lot. Even at the Butcher’s Guild, killing a chicken could earn him a commission of about ten coins, let alone for an experienced butcher like him.
Cooking a bowl of noodles didn’t take long, and since those toppings were prepared and kept warm in advance, their noodles were brought out very quickly.
However, what was served wasn’t just two bowls of noodles. There were also side dishes like dried radish, lettuce slices, and salted mustard greens.
There was also a bowl of a relatively clear, unknown liquid. It had just been served, and at the current temperature, it was still emitting clouds of steam.
Ding Baozhu realized at once—so this was a set meal?
Ding Hong, like the other strong men, directly lowered his head to eat. He first picked up that quivering piece of braised meat and took a large bite. That braised meat, with distinct layers of fat and lean, was almost as large as the bowl’s opening and covered the entire surface. He then picked up a bundle of noodles and put them in his mouth; it looked very satisfying.
Ding Hong still had several hours of work to do; if he didn’t eat his fill, he would have no strength.
However, for those doing physical labor like them, the plain soup noodles beneath the braised meat were also a sufficient supply.
Ding Baozhu first lowered her head and took a sip of the soup. She tasted that the soup base had a hint of flavor from simmered pork bones; it wasn’t just melted lard. With this kind of soup base, as long as a few grains of salt were added, the savory fragrance would burst forth.
As for her bowl of Eight Treasure Noodles, she could see at a glance that it was a sauce-based topping. While emitting a spicy aroma, it was embedded with many different diced ingredients.
Ding Baozhu tasted them one by one and found it was much as she had thought.
The “Eight Treasures” were made with four meat and four vegetable ingredients: diced chicken, diced pork, diced stomach, and diced gizzard; diced bamboo shoots, diced dried tofu, diced shiitake mushrooms, and peanuts. These several types of ingredients were also thickened with starch, making them sticky and suitable for mixing.
Ding Baozhu mixed the noodles, coating every strand with the Eight Treasure sauce. She took only a few breaths to cool them before eating.
The taste was not only delicious, but the aftertaste actually had a hint of spiciness, though the level was just right, reaching a subtle state that was both appetizing and addictive.
There were no chili peppers here; it seemed that little bit of spiciness was obtained from other ingredients. Furthermore, she could completely tell that these noodles were hand-pulled, though fine noodles are best for this type of topping dish.
After eating a few more mouthfuls, a thin layer of sweat unconsciously broke out on Ding Baozhu’s forehead. She lifted her sleeve to wipe it and then suddenly looked at that bowl of unknown liquid.
She picked it up and tasted it, and her eyes widened slightly.