Although this fish was nothing to Song Xingchen.
However, the original owner had very little oil in his stomach, and after seeing those recipes and imagining the taste, his brain instinctively produced a craving, and his mouth even started to water.
I’m so hungry for it.
She quickly carried the fish and the basin home, found some scissors, and then looked at the fish jumping on the ground.
I was dumbfounded.
When she was Song Xingchen, she had never killed a fish. Even when she wanted to eat fish, the fishmonger would kill it for her.
As Song Zhaodi, the Song family was very poor, the poorest in the whole village, and they also had to support a student. Their three meals a day consisted of coarse rice porridge with wild vegetables.
We would only have meat during holidays or when Song Yaozu came back. The biggest fish I remember ever killing was only the size of my palm.
It was almost as long as her arm, and it was also her first time killing someone.
That fish, no bigger than the palm of my hand, was eaten by the whole family.
The fish head symbolizes status and must be eaten by Song Dachuan, the head of the family.
Fish tails have many bones, which can cause children to choke, but Sun Xiuhe ate them.
Song Yaozu ate the fish body; he was the Song family’s hope for success, and they couldn’t afford to let him suffer a loss.
Over the years, Song Zhaodi has only been able to drink soup.
Her stomach seemed to be calling to her, rumbling loudly. Song Zhaodi closed her eyes and steeled her resolve.
Following the fishmonger’s example, I picked up a stone from the ground and smashed it hard against the fish’s head.
While the fish is still dizzy, scale it, remove its gills…
It’s too much trouble to wash such a big fish at home. In my memory, the original owner always washed vegetables by the river.
Besides, the freshly washed clothes smelled fishy, so they had to be scrubbed again.
She put the grass carp into a bamboo basket, slung it over her shoulder, and carried the basin of clothes in her other hand before heading to the riverbank.
To prevent her clothes from getting fishy again, she washed the clothes first, and then washed the fish.
The fish gills were thrown into the water, immediately attracting a small group of fish to scramble for the food. Song Zhaodi suddenly stopped what she was doing.
When she was little, she used to catch fish with her father, using discarded fish gills and innards. Although they couldn’t catch big fish, they could catch small fish and shrimp if they were lucky.
Following her memory, she secured the fish’s innards to the bottom of the bamboo basket, then found a twig, lifted the basket, and placed it into the water a little further away.
Next, all we have to do is wait.
Since we have nothing else to do, why not try her magic touch on the plants by the river?
She glanced at the riverbank and spotted a familiar yet unfamiliar plant that looked somewhat like celery, but grew in water.
The leaves are triangular with rounded teeth along the edges, and the stems are bluish-white, thick and straight, forming a large, lush expanse.
She plucked a stalk, and immediately the words “water celery” appeared before her eyes: sweet in taste, neutral in nature, can be used as both food and medicine.
It has medicinal properties such as clearing heat and dampness, stopping bleeding, and lowering blood pressure. It can be used to treat colds, fever, vomiting, and diarrhea.
It is rich in nutrients and can be stir-fried or used in cold dishes.
It also includes recipes for various cooking methods and dietary restrictions.
Song Zhaodi was overjoyed; she would finally be able to eat only shepherd’s purse.
Although the harvest in Shuangping Village was not good last year, every household had some stored grain, so they were not at the point of having to eat wild vegetables.
When wild vegetables are served, it’s the first time the Song family has done so. They don’t have much experience, so they just pick the shepherd’s purse they recognize.
The shepherd’s purse on the field ridges and mountains has been almost completely harvested. The whole family has been eating it for months and is almost sick of it.
Now I can finally change things up.
Song Zhaodi’s eyes lit up. She picked up her scissors and started snipping away at the tender stems of the water celery. In no time, she had harvested a small bundle.
It was almost time, so she picked up a tree branch, squatted down to steady herself, and used her strength to quickly lift the bamboo basket.
The water in the bamboo basket flowed out with a gurgling sound, and small fish and shrimp jumped around incessantly.
Song Zhaodi smiled; she was really lucky.
The bamboo basket was much heavier than she had imagined. She used her skill to slowly pull it back, and then she was stunned.
A turtle was lying at the bottom of the bamboo basket, eating the small fish and shrimp inside with gusto, completely unaware that it had become someone else’s meal.
If she weren’t afraid the turtle would escape, Song Zhaodi would have knelt down and bowed to it.
“In my past life, I sacrificed myself for others and was fearless in the face of death; this is what I deserve. Thank you, King Yama; thank you, Heaven; thank you, all the gods…”
“Zhao Di, what are you muttering to yourself?”
A male voice rang out, followed by a shadow looming over Song Zhaodi. Before she could turn around, a cry of surprise rang out.
“What a huge turtle!”
Wang Tiezhu exclaimed in surprise, pointing at the turtle in the bamboo basket, “You caught that?”
Song Zhaodi nodded, about to speak, when Wang Tiezhu pointed to the bundle of water celery on the ground and said, “Are you feeding so much water grass to the chickens?”
The people of Shuangping Village refer to all wild vegetables and grasses as “pig grass” and “chicken grass”.
Song Zhaodi shook her head, “This is called water celery, it’s edible, you can stir-fry it or make a cold salad.”
Wang Tiezhu looked incredulous, a hint of sympathy flashing in his eyes.
They’re so hungry they’re eating grass; they must be starving.
He pointed to the turtle in the bamboo basket and said generously, “Why don’t you sell this to me? You can use the money to buy some decent food.”
Upon hearing this, Song Zhaodi thought it was a good idea.
We already have a big grass carp at home, enough to eat for two days.
We should sell this turtle and use the money to buy some grain in town.
But she has never sold anything before, and she is likely to be undervalued by strangers. If she takes it home for her father to sell, Sun Xiuhe might see it and give it to Song Yaozu to nourish his body.
In my memory, Wang Tiezhu was Lizheng’s son. He was honest and upright, and never cheated in business. You wouldn’t lose money if you sold to him.
So she readily agreed, “You weigh it and see how much it’s worth.”
Wang Tiezhu responded, turned around and took the scale from the oxcart, saying, “What a coincidence! I just came back from the market, and the scale is still here.”
After saying that, he quickly tied the turtle with a straw rope and weighed it.
“Three catties and seven ounces, take a look.” Wang Tiezhu said, showing the scale to Song Zhaodi. “Your turtle is big, so it’s more expensive. The market price is fifty coins a catty, so it comes out to…”
“One hundred and eighty-five coins,” Song Zhaodi replied.
Wang Tiezhu said with some surprise, “You’re faster than me, who does accounting every day.”
Of course, the multiplication table isn’t something you can just memorize for nothing.
On the surface, Song Zhaodi remained modest, saying, “When I was working at the private school, I listened to a lot and learned some things.”
During the years that Song Yaozu studied, in order to please the private tutor, Sun Xiuhe had Song Zhaodi work for the private tutor, doing chores such as cleaning and chores.
Wang Tiezhu knew all this, so naturally he had no doubts.
He nodded, took out his money pouch from his pocket, counted the money, handed it to Song Zhaodi, and then took the turtle back home.
The small fish and shrimp in the bamboo basket had been almost eaten up, with only a few left. Song Zhaodi cleaned them and took the large grass carp and water celery back home.
Smoke curls from the chimney, and the iron pot bubbles and gurgles. The river shrimp, glistening with an enticing color, swirl and tumble with the blooming rice grains, thickening the sauce and releasing a sweet and savory aroma.
The bright green scallions sprinkled on top give the river seafood congee its soul.
Meanwhile, the fish fillets, which have been mixed with egg white, salt, and Shaoxing wine, are slid into the thick, white broth, cooked briefly, and then drizzled with fragrant fried oil.
The aroma is wonderful.
“Zhaodi, we’re back.”
“Hey, what’s that smell? It smells so good!”