In his previous life, whenever He Yi caught grass carp, he would usually drive to a food stall he frequented and have the owner slice the fish for him, then set up a pot and swish the slices through the broth. When he wanted something with a stronger flavor, he would order a green Sichuan-pepper broth; when he wanted something lighter, he would use wumi congee as the base.
Elio’s Notes: Wumi zhou (毋米粥), literally “rice-less congee,” is a smooth rice broth used as a hot-pot base. The rice is cooked down or strained until the grains are no longer distinct, leaving a silky congee liquid.
Just thinking about that taste made him crave it.
He Yi looked at the grass carp in the bucket and decided to try making a congee base so they could cook the fish slices in it. First, though, he needed to find someone who knew how to slice fish properly.
He went to ask Auntie Liu, but she said she did not know how.
He Yi was not surprised. Although Chongzi Village lay close to the river, the villagers’ fishing methods were relatively primitive and inefficient, so very few people made a living from fishing. As a result, fresh fish was not something villagers often managed to get their hands on.
And slicing fish thinly required considerable knife skill.
He Yi had grown somewhat closer to quite a few villagers lately, so he asked around. He learned that Auntie Yun from the Lu family had once apprenticed at a restaurant in town. After the restaurant closed, she married into Chongzi Village. From time to time she cooked for village weddings and funerals, and otherwise earned a little money helping people clean and prepare meals.
That made it likely she knew how to slice fish, so He Yi did not mind the trouble and went looking for the Lu family home.
When he saw Auntie Yun, He Yi realized he had actually met her before. She was the auntie who had opened the door for him the first time he came down the mountain and returned to the He family home. At the time, he had even mistaken her for Eldest Aunt.
Come to think of it, the steamed fish Auntie Yun had made that day had tasted quite good, even though He Yi had only taken one bite. He had a favorable impression of her, so he went straight to the point and explained what he wanted.
“Auntie, I’d like to ask you to slice a fish for me. It doesn’t have to be paper-thin, just thin enough to cook quickly when dipped in hot broth. I won’t make you work for nothing either. I’ll give you one of these grass carp. Pick whichever one you like.” He Yi wanted to build some goodwill, so he offered more than necessary.
Auntie Yun, however, was painfully honest and immediately protested, “You can’t do that. It’s only slicing a fish…” She twisted the corner of her clothes until it was nearly wrung out of shape, murmuring with a deeply conflicted expression.
“Then what do you think would be fair, Auntie?”
“I shouldn’t take… take something in return like that. We’re all villagers. How could I ask for a benefit just for helping out?” Auntie Yun forced a smile.
“It’s only an exchange of courtesies. Don’t feel pressured.”
“No, no…” Auntie Yun hesitated for quite a while before running off to ask her mother-in-law. When she returned, she said, “Could I… could I have the head and tail? I want to make soup for the family.”
“Of course. Thank you for helping me.” He Yi gave her a handsome smile, but Auntie Yun did not meet his eyes at all. She hurriedly picked up the bucket and went straight into the kitchen.
He Yi had not brought anything to hold the fish, so Auntie Yun even lent him two large bowls and a basket. Both bowls were filled to the brim with fish slices. To his surprise, the slices were extremely thin. Even without lifting one and spreading it out, he could see how translucent they were. Her knife skills were obviously excellent.
“I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find anyone who knew how to slice fish. Auntie, your skill is really impressive.”
“We used to make a lot of raw fish slices at the restaurant… People in the village hardly ever eat that sort of thing, so I haven’t done it in a long time. I’m a little rusty,” Auntie Yun said.
“You don’t look rusty at all. It’s probably a good thing the villagers don’t eat raw fish much anyway. Who knows, they might end up with worms in their bellies. I’m not planning to eat it raw. I want to cook the slices in congee broth before eating them. It tastes very good that way, so you can try it too.” He Yi had heard before that people in ancient times often made raw fish dishes directly from freshwater fish and probably knew little about parasites, so he felt he had to warn her.
Auntie Yun was quite surprised. She had indeed heard of this way of eating fish, but only in the prefectural seat, where restaurants would set out special banquets at certain times of year for customers to eat this way. She had never heard of people elsewhere doing it, and certainly had never seen anything like it in either her own home village or Chongzi Village.
Auntie Yun stole a glance at He Yi and felt extremely awkward. She could not shake the feeling that she was facing someone who had come from the prefectural seat.
He Yi vaguely sensed her scrutiny and did not linger. After thanking her once more, he went to Auntie Liu’s house to borrow some lettuce and ginger.
*
The evening breeze drifted gently. Under the glow of an oil lamp, thick white rice broth bubbled in a clay pot, thin shreds of ginger occasionally rolling through the liquid as steam rose continuously from the surface.
He Yi used his chopsticks to spread out the evenly sliced raw fish, then picked up one slice and dipped it into the wumi congee. Once the fish turned white with not a trace of translucence left, he lifted it out and placed it in the bowl Xue Ci was holding, reminding him to blow on it until it cooled before eating.
“That’s all there is to it. You can try it yourselves.” After demonstrating to the other three how to cook the fish slices, He Yi said as much.
Just like He Yi and Xue Ci, Madman Tang and Xu Qianli had a clay pot set in front of them with congee simmering inside. Once He Yi finished speaking, they copied his method and began cooking their own fish slices.
Xue Ci did not need to do anything himself. His bowl was already half full. He picked up a slice and blew on it, clearly desperate to put it in his mouth but still holding himself back. He hurriedly asked He Yi, “Is this good now? Can I eat it?”
He Yi gave him an amused sidelong look and deliberately teased, “I’ll taste it for you and see if it’s cool enough.”
Anyone else would certainly have understood that he was joking. After all, Xue Ci had just blown on that piece of fish himself. But this was not just anyone. It was Xue Ci, who never understood or cared about those little social twists and turns. So he really did pick up a slice, hold it to He Yi’s mouth, and urge, “Then hurry up and taste it!”
“…” He Yi had not expected that either. If no one else had been there, he might have secretly enjoyed it, but with the older and younger person across from them staring brightly at the scene, he could not enjoy it at all. He was too embarrassed even to open his mouth, so he snatched the fish slice from Xue Ci with his own chopsticks and quickly ate it.
“It’s cool enough. The slices are very thin, so they cool quickly.” He Yi avoided Madman Tang’s openly teasing gaze and lowered his eyes to continue cooking fish.
Hearing that, Xue Ci abruptly swept half the bowl into his mouth and began chewing, already trying to swallow.
“Watch out for bones. Eat slowly.” He Yi placed another freshly cooked slice into his bowl and reminded him.
Madman Tang could not stand watching any longer and deliberately said in an exaggerated tone, “How enviable. I want someone to cook fish slices for me too.”
“I know how now. I’ll make some for you.” Qianli held a fish slice steadily beneath the surface of the pot, not letting go even when the rising steam brushed her hand.
“Wonderful. Qianli treats me so well.” Madman Tang accepted the offer with delight.
He really was shameless enough to let a child cook for him. He Yi could not bear to watch and instead put some cooked fish into Qianli’s bowl.
“Thank you, Brother He. I can do it myself.” Qianli wore a serious little expression, nodding once and then shaking her head.
“All right.” He Yi let her handle it herself.
The grass-carp slices were smooth and tender, their surfaces coated in silky, dense congee broth. The broth made them easy to eat while preserving the fish’s natural sweetness.
Still, there was a considerable gap between this and what He Yi had eaten at the food stall in his previous life. His rice broth had not been cooked to quite the right degree, and it did not taste as good as the owner’s. Then again, even among other restaurants, He Yi had rarely found anywhere that could reproduce that particular flavor. Otherwise, he would not have kept returning to the same place.
Only after eating several pieces did He Yi suddenly remember that he had forgotten to prepare dipping sauce!
“…” Perhaps the fish was sweet and fresh enough on its own, or perhaps the little bit of salt in the congee kept it from tasting bland. Either way, he had completely failed to notice the missing dipping sauce at first.
He did not have soy sauce or any similar seasonings here either. All he had was sesame oil. Thinking it would at least add fragrance, He Yi went to the kitchen and brought the sesame oil over.
He dripped a little into everyone’s bowl and told them to dip the fish into it.
When Qianli saw the sesame oil, she looked surprised. She glanced at the perfectly composed Madman Tang, then at He Yi, who seemed to think nothing of it, and could not help thinking that no wonder these two could live under the same roof. Both of them spent money with an astonishingly loose hand and never seemed to feel the pinch.
Still, it was not her money being spent, so Qianli happily kept eating and could not resist exclaiming that the sesame oil really did make the fish much more fragrant.
He Yi smiled and glanced at Xue Ci, who was eating just as happily. If something this simple could satisfy them so much, then with sliced chili and soy sauce they might start pestering him to make it every day. Then again, perhaps not. With Xue Ci’s catlike tongue, who knew whether he could handle spicy food?
After eating light flavors for so long, it was difficult not to crave something spicy and strongly seasoned. He Yi had been in this world for quite some time now and still had not seen any seasoning like chili peppers. Who knew whether the Qian Dynasty had them at all? Madman Tang recognized so many medicinal herbs, and chili peppers could potentially be used medicinally too. Perhaps he had seen them before.
The idea seemed reasonable, so He Yi made a mental note of it.
After a while, all the fish slices were gone. He Yi added the washed, chopped lettuce to the pots and cooked it, then had everyone ladle the greens and congee broth into their bowls together.
The congee had absorbed the essence of the fish, and the fresh crispness of the lettuce balanced it nicely. The broth was fragrant, soft, and mellow without being greasy. He Yi was fairly satisfied.
After the meal, He Yi drew the shape of a chili pepper on a sheet of paper. After thinking for a moment, he added simple sketches of red Sichuan pepper, green Sichuan pepper, and black pepper. Without pigments he could not add color, and the brush was too thick for fine details, so beside each drawing he wrote the name, color, and traits such as spiciness or numbing heat.
Madman Tang took the paper and studied it. His brows soon drew together. After thinking for a while, he asked He Yi to describe their size, aroma, and other characteristics in greater detail.
“Red Sichuan pepper exists. The apothecary in town has processed ones… I’ve seen the green kind in books. As for these things you call chili pepper and black pepper, I’ve never heard of them. But this shape… it does look a little familiar. I feel as though I’ve seen it somewhere. I need to think. I need to think.”
With that, Madman Tang sank completely into his thoughts. He kept opening and folding the paper in his hand. Eventually he simply picked up his wine gourd and returned to the East Courtyard, muttering to himself the entire way.
That left only He Yi and Xue Ci, who had not yet returned to the mountain, staring at each other.
He Yi looked at the pitch-black sky and asked Xue Ci, “It’s this late. Are you still going back up the mountain?”
Xue Ci shook his head and said with perfect seriousness, “I’m sleeping in your room. You’ll read me a storybook.”
“…Fine.” He Yi avoided Xue Ci’s expectant gaze, pinched the bridge of his nose twice, and resigned himself to taking him back to the West Courtyard.
Torture. Real torture. Playing Liu Xiahui was not a job fit for ordinary humans.
Elio’s Notes: Liu Xiahui (柳下惠) is a classical Chinese figure famous for remaining sexually self-restrained even in intimate circumstances. He Yi is joking that maintaining that level of restraint around Xue Ci is becoming extremely difficult.
*
Guluo Town Patrol Inspector’s Office.
“I’m exhausted. What the hell is wrong with this new guy? Every day he trains us like dogs, and every other sentence is about how great the Northwest Army is. How amazing can they really be? Put me there and I could do it too! And what does any of that have to do with him? If he were really capable of commanding the Northwest Army, would he have ended up here?” He Jie had just returned from the training grounds and still had not caught his breath. Unable to hold it in, he complained to two coworkers he knew well.
“Keep your voice down. You’re back here and still talking like that?” Runner Wu, beside He Jie, jabbed him in the arm.
“Tsk.” He Jie was only brave enough to complain when no one important could hear him. He certainly did not dare let the town patrol inspector overhear, so he shut his mouth.
Just then, the gatekeeper came over and called to him. “Runner He, someone is here to see you.”
“Who is it?”
“This lowly one doesn’t know.”
He Jie could get nothing more out of him, and he did not want to offend the men guarding the gate, so he merely curled his lip and followed the gatekeeper outside. Before long, he saw a man with dark circles beneath his eyes and an ingratiating smile standing hunched beneath the eaves, rubbing his palms together.
When He Jie saw that the visitor was Zhao Wei, an old follower of his who was still loafing around the village, he could not be bothered to show him even the slightest friendliness. He asked impatiently, “What do you want with me?” Did Zhao Wei think he had nothing better to do, coming all the way here? Couldn’t he have gone to his house if he had something to say? Ah. He supposed he had never actually told Zhao Wei where his family lived in town.
Zhao Wei knew He Jie had always looked down on him, but right now he genuinely needed He Jie’s help, so he kept the fawning expression on his face. Then he thought of a certain person, and half his face abruptly darkened, twisting his features into something ugly.
“Jie, I want to report a crime! There are suspicious outsiders roaming around our Chongzi Village!”