It had been a long time since Qin Yi had bathed so carefully. Perhaps it was because there was an abundance of hot water today, or because a fragrant bath bean that smelled faintly of jasmine had appeared beside the large wooden tub, or perhaps it was the aroma and laughter drifting from the kitchen that gave him a sense of ease. When he finished changing into clean clothes and stepped out of his room, he looked at the courtyard, now more than half cleared, and felt a moment of disorientation.
Bright sunlight quietly spread across the stone slabs in the yard. Beside the well stood a large wooden basin where dirty clothes were soaking. It was the most ordinary scene in a farmhouse courtyard, yet for some reason it calmed Qin Yi’s heart.
Aside from the courtyard being clean and orderly, something else about the Qin household felt different today. Looking more closely, he noticed that the window of the east wing room stood wide open. Through it he could see a sheet of pristine white paper spread neatly across the clean desk.
Qin Yi’s gaze lingered briefly on the brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone arranged on the table. A trace of surprise flickered in the depths of his dark brown eyes, though it vanished almost immediately. Turning away, he strode toward the kitchen.
The moment he entered, he saw three bowls placed on the square table. Each bowl contained more than half a bowl of clear chicken soup with chunks of meat. Jian Jia stood by the stove holding a pair of long chopsticks, calmly stirring the noodles in a large pot. When she heard Qin Yi’s footsteps, she did not even turn her head.
“The noodles will be ready in a moment. Why don’t you have some chicken soup first?”
Qin Yi picked up the large coarse porcelain bowl closest to him. After blowing lightly across the floating droplets of oil, he took a small sip.
The slightly hot soup entered his mouth, and the rich flavor burst across his tongue. His eyes widened slightly, and the dark brown pupils brightened. He lowered the bowl to look at it, then took another sip.
The fragrant broth rolled across his tongue before sliding down his throat. Its delicious flavor lingered at the tip of his tongue and seemed to rush straight to his head, leaving him momentarily dizzy.
So fresh.
It was hard to imagine that this soup had been made from a wild pheasant.
Qin Yi had cooked pheasant soup before, yet his version always turned out bland and carried an indescribable gamey smell. Holding the bowl, he fell into thought. Had Jian Jia added some special seasoning to the soup?
After examining the clay pot beside the table, he discovered that the soup contained nothing but chicken and broth. It did not seem as if any other seasoning had been added.
Could it be because of the clay pot?
The earthen pot had a rough texture, its exterior blackened by charcoal fire. No matter how he looked at it, it seemed like the most ordinary soup pot.
Jian Jia glanced sideways and saw Qin Yi standing beside the clay pot with the bowl in his hands, deep in thought. Having just bathed, his hair hung loose around his shoulders. The slightly damp curls spread like strands of seaweed, softening the sharp aura that usually surrounded him and making him appear gentler.
Jian Jia paused.
She had to admit, he looked rather good like this.
While Qin Yi was not paying attention, she sneaked another glance.
Perhaps sensing her gaze, Qin Yi straightened his posture and cleared his throat.
“It’s very fresh.”
After a brief pause he changed the subject.
“Where’s Lang’er?”
Such good soup should be something Lang’er would enjoy.
Receiving Qin Yi’s approval, Jian Jia let out a pleased sigh of relief. Earlier she had worried that the pheasant, which had died in the trap, might affect the flavor of the soup.
“Lang’er went to invite Second Uncle,” she said with a smile.
Qin Yi set down his bowl and walked over to Jian Jia’s side. Looking into the large pot, he saw hand-rolled noodles and leafy greens swirling in the boiling water. The green vegetables and pale noodles floated in the milky broth, creating a surprisingly beautiful sight.
The aroma of the noodles mingled with the scent of chicken soup, and Qin Yi could already imagine how delicious the pot of noodles would taste.
Still, he felt a little worried.
“I wonder if Second Uncle will be willing to come.”
Second Uncle was a bamboo craftsman. Elderly and frail, he had no children of his own and made his living by weaving baskets and other bamboo items. Although Qin Yi and Qin Lang had often invited him to live with them, the old man always refused. He believed it would not be proper. Even though he was getting old, he preferred to eat simple boiled vegetables rather than trouble the two brothers. Even when Qin Yi forced the game into his hands, he would firmly return it.
Even if Lang’er had gone to invite him now, there was no guarantee he would come for a bowl of noodles.
As it turned out, Qin Yi’s worries were unnecessary. Just then Qin Lang’s voice rang out from outside.
“Sister, Sister, Second Uncle is here!”
Qin Yi was startled and quickly walked toward the kitchen door. Before he reached it, Qin Lang was already stepping over the threshold while holding Second Uncle’s hand.
Second Uncle carried a small bamboo basket. A smile spread across his thin face, and his cloudy eyes shimmered with moisture. His voice trembled slightly.
“You children are too kind. Such delicious chicken soup, and you even brought it specially for an old man like me. What a waste of good food…”
Only then did Qin Yi notice the empty bowl inside the basket. He quickly stepped forward and took it from him.
Jian Jia smiled. “Second Uncle, please don’t say that. Food is meant to be eaten. We’re all very happy that you came to share the meal with us.”
Second Uncle raised his thumb in praise.
“Jia’er’s cooking is truly remarkable. In all my years I’ve never tasted chicken soup this fresh. Wonderful, simply wonderful!”
Hearing Second Uncle Qin’s feedback, Jian Jia beamed with delight. Her bright almond-shaped eyes curved like crescent moons.
“I’m glad you like it. The noodles will be ready any moment.”
Only then did Qin Yi understand how Jian Jia had managed to invite Second Uncle. Whenever he invited the old man, he had always been sincere, yet he had never thought of bringing a bowl of food directly to him. Compared with Jian Jia’s delicious cooking, his own meals truly were not appealing.
Once Second Uncle Qin had taken his seat, the hand-rolled noodles were finally ready.
The noodles, made with eggs, had a faint golden color. Each strand was evenly cut and slightly curled. Immersed in the chicken soup dotted with droplets of oil, they resembled polished jade. To keep the dish from looking too plain, Jian Jia had also picked some tender vegetable leaves and blanched them. After rolling through the broth, the leaves remained a vivid green, adding both color and texture to the noodles.
Each bowl also received a spoonful of chicken pieces. Although the cuts varied, some with more meat and others with less, the chicken had simmered for nearly an hour. The once tough meat had become tender enough that it slipped easily off the bone with a gentle bite.
They lifted the noodles while they were still steaming hot and placed them into their mouths. With every chew they felt the springy, smooth texture unique to hand-rolled noodles. The fragrance of wheat filled their mouths. With only a little salt and egg added, the noodles needed no additional seasoning to taste delicious. Paired with the rich chicken broth, the flavor became even more remarkable.
One bite of noodles, one sip of soup. Qin Yi and the others held their bowls and ate heartily.
Even beads of sweat appeared on Qin Lang’s forehead, yet he did not bother wiping them away. He focused entirely on lifting the smooth noodles with his chopsticks and delivering them carefully into his mouth.
Qin Yi knew his younger brother best. Normally Qin Lang ate like a kitten, finishing only half a bowl of porridge at most. Yet today, even after drinking half a bowl of chicken soup and eating half a bowl of noodles, he still had not stopped eating. Even when noodles flicked soup onto his cheeks, he did not pause.
After a moment of surprise, a deep sense of guilt rose within Qin Yi’s heart. It was not that Lang’er was weak or had a poor appetite. Faced with delicious food, he would naturally eat more. The truth was simply that Qin Yi’s own cooking had been terrible.
After thinking seriously for a while, Qin Yi made up his mind that he would learn cooking from Jian Jia in the future, so that Qin Lang could eat more.
Having resolved this, Qin Yi’s appetite improved even further. He picked up another mouthful of noodles and quickly finished the bowl. Then he tilted his head back and drank the remaining soup from the bottom.
Just as Qin Yi was about to put down his chopsticks, Jian Jia blinked at him.
“Are you full?”
Qin Yi was not full. The noodles in the pot had already been scooped out, and since noodles were more filling than porridge, he had simply stopped eating.
After sharing two meals with him, Jian Jia already had some understanding of his appetite. Even though he had drunk half a bowl of soup and eaten a full bowl of noodles, it was far from enough to fill him.
She set down her chopsticks and walked toward the cupboard.
“If hand-rolled noodles cook too long they get soggy, so I only boiled a small portion. There are still plenty in the cupboard. Wait a moment, I’ll cook more.”
Before her hands could touch the cupboard, Qin Yi had already opened it ahead of her.
“You go eat. I’ll do it myself.”
In Qin Yi’s view, anything he could do himself should not trouble others.
Jian Jia happily accepted the chance to rest. As she walked back to the table she explained, “When the water boils, add the noodles. Once they float, pour in half a bowl of cold water. After it boils again, you can scoop them out. Oh, and there are vegetable leaves on top of the water jar.”
Qin Yi nodded slightly. “All right.”
Second Uncle Qin held his bowl and tilted his head slightly, as though lost in thought. A faint smile appeared on his aged face, yet his eyes slowly grew moist.
When the second pot of noodles was ready, only Second Uncle added another half bowl. The rest Qin Yi scooped into his own bowl. Jian Jia lifted the clay pot and poured the remaining chicken soup into it.
The clay pot was not large, and the wild pheasant had been smaller than a typical hen. The remaining broth barely covered the noodles. Although it still tasted good, the bowl looked somewhat lacking.
Qin Yi himself had no complaints. It was the best meal he had eaten since returning home. Jian Jia’s hand-rolled noodles were far more delicious than the thick porridge he used to make.
Yet Jian Jia frowned slightly at the bowl.
“Qin Yi, can you eat spicy food?” she asked slowly.
No one knew exactly when chili peppers had been introduced to the Great Jing Dynasty. Most locals could not handle the heat, but Qin Yi had eaten plenty of spicy food during his years of military service.
Back then he had been stationed in the north. During autumn and winter, the cold winds howled endlessly. The army cooks often added chili peppers to the dishes. The heat burned the mouth but warmed the soldiers’ bodies. Sometimes when Qin Yi and his comrades went out to scout, they would carry a handful of dried chilies in their packs. Whenever they were tired, cold, or drowsy, chewing half a chili would quickly restore their energy.
Hearing Jian Jia’s question, Qin Yi nodded quietly.
“I can.” Jian Jia thought for a moment.
“Then how about I add a spoonful of chili oil?”
Chili oil?
Qin Yi was puzzled. Chili peppers could become oil? Even so, he nodded.
“Thank you.”
While sorting the packages Qin Yi had brought back earlier, Jian Jia had discovered a large bag of dried chilies. The bright red peppers were wrinkled but vibrant in color. Just smelling them made her feel slightly intimidated. She herself was not very good at eating spicy food, yet she loved experimenting anyway. Back when she worked as a food blogger, her fans often watched her gasp for water after being overwhelmed by the heat.
Fans from all over had shared delicious recipes with her, and over time she had learned several methods for making chili oil.
Now she grabbed a handful of dried chilies and walked toward the stove. The glowing charcoal embers inside were perfect for roasting peppers.
As the chilies touched the coals, their wrinkled skins quickly darkened and blistered. A sharp, fragrant spiciness filled the air. Jian Jia carefully turned them with a pair of fire tongs, waiting for the embers to roast them crisp.
At that moment Second Uncle began chatting with Qin Yi at the table.
“The Fan family will come tomorrow, won’t they?”
Qin Yi lowered his eyes. His movements slowed as he ate his noodles. After a long moment he answered quietly.
“Yes.” Second Uncle sighed softly and tried to comfort him.
“Don’t be sad. They will treat Junjun well.”
Jian Jia pricked up her ears.
Junjun was the Qin family’s tall horse.
What did that mean?
Was Qin Yi planning to sell Junjun?