Chapter 20: Chapter 15: Soft-shelled Turtle Soup with Crispy Rice

Juhua listened quietly as her mother and brother discussed things. All this talk of family trifles, of firewood, rice, oil, and salt, of eating and clothing, made her realize something: she had completely integrated into this family, this society. Her past life was fading away, the memories growing faint.

Suddenly, she heard her mother mention her. Juhua hugged her arm and chuckled softly. “Ma, it’s not like I’m the only one who went without new clothes. Didn’t Brother get through it the same way?”

Mrs. Yang said sadly, “That’s different! Your brother is a boy; he’s not so delicate. And he’s always been stronger than you since he was little.”

Juhua said in a soft, gentle voice, “Things will be better next year. With four adults in our family, how could we not live well? Don’t you worry, Ma!”

Seeing how sweet her daughter was, Mrs. Yang smiled too. “Yes, my girl is very capable! I’m sure you’ll raise these chickens and pigs well, and we’ll sell them for a good price.” After speaking, she got up and said to Qingmu, “Go on to bed! I’m afraid once you start your studies, you won’t be able to sleep this early even if you want to!” She then told Juhua to get to bed early as well before fumbling her way out of the room.

After her brother and mother had gone to bed, Juhua lay on her own bed, listening to the faint whisper of the wind outside. She pondered for a long while in the quiet night before slowly drifting off to sleep.

In her dreams, her mother bought soft cotton quilts for the family, making the beds so plush she never wanted to get up. It seemed the family had built a new house, and the rooms were filled with light. Juhua planted lots of wild chrysanthemums outside the window. In the spring, they were a field of verdant green; in the fall, a sea of brilliant gold.

The next morning, Juhua didn’t wake until the sunlight was streaming through her window. She lazily hugged her soft, fragrant chrysanthemum pillow, burying her face in it for a long while before sluggishly climbing out of bed.

Her mother had already finished scrubbing the clothes and was busy in the kitchen.

Juhua casually tied her hair into a braid and went to the kitchen to wash up. As she did, she said to her mother, “Ma, is the soup from last night done simmering? We don’t need to make congee this morning. We can just pour the hot soup over rice crisps. It’s delicious!”

Her mother replied, “That’s sure to be delicious. But what will you eat? I thought you couldn’t eat rice crisps?”

While scooping some boiled water from an iron pot into a small wooden basin and adding a handful of dried chrysanthemums to steep, Juhua said to her mother, “The rice crisps I toasted yesterday don’t have any sauce on them. A little bit won’t hurt.”

She waited for the chrysanthemums to infuse, then dipped a clean, soft cloth into the water and gently washed her face. The steaming water released the fresh fragrance of chrysanthemums, which instantly filled the air. The water felt hot against her skin, but with a hint of coolness that was incredibly refreshing!

Her mother pulled the simmering pot from the stove’s embers, blew the ash off the lid, and wiped the pot down carefully with a rag before opening it. Beneath the lid was a layer of parchment paper. The moment she lifted the paper, a rich, meaty aroma immediately overpowered the scent of chrysanthemums in the air, making one’s mouth water.

Juhua felt her stomach give a loud RUMBLE, and she felt even hungrier.

She said to her mother with a small laugh, “Ma, you have to bring the soup to a boil in the pot. It has to be boiling to make the rice crisps crunchy! Lukewarm won’t do!”

Her mother laughed. “I know that. You think I need you to tell me? Go call your father and brother back for breakfast. They’re in the vegetable patch.”

After washing her face, Juhua tossed the water out. On her way to the outhouse, she shouted toward her father and brother, who were busy working on a newly cleared plot of land, “Pa, time to eat!”

“Aye!” Zheng Changhe called back, looking up and putting down his hoe. Qingmu, who had been bent over in a furrow pulling weeds, straightened up, rubbed the dirt from his hands, and got ready to head home.

In the field, rows of yellow-hearted greens and cabbages that had not yet formed full heads showed hints of yellow and pale green against the dark brown soil, a particularly pleasing sight.

’Next year,’ Juhua thought, ’I’ll plant some sweet potatoes on this plot. People can eat them, and so can the pigs. By then, the whole field will be covered in dark green sweet potato vines—an even more beautiful sight! Pigs love sweet potato vines. Hmm, and the tender sweet potato leaves are good for people to eat, too.’

Juhua realized she was becoming obsessed, always connecting food with the pigs.

She turned and ducked into the outhouse. It was surprisingly clean.

This was mainly because Qingmu was so diligent. He had found a few large stone slabs to pave the floor and had even covered the latrine pit with a wooden board, leaving only a hole where one squatted. It was very convenient! The place for scooping out the manure was also at the back of the outhouse, which prevented the inside from getting filthy and smelly during clean-out.

Every time Juhua used the outhouse, she felt extremely satisfied and couldn’t help but marvel at how, although her brother didn’t talk much, he was incredibly meticulous. The outhouses of most village families were smelly with nowhere to step, nothing like the clean one her family had.

After washing her hands, Juhua was in an excellent mood. Seeing her mother heating up the turtle soup, she took four large, coarse porcelain bowls from the cupboard, rinsed them with hot water, and then brought over the jar of rice crisps. Into her parents’ and brother’s bowls, she placed crisps brushed with shrimp paste; in her own, she put plain ones. All of them were toasted to a tempting golden-brown.

Mrs. Yang ladled the turtle soup over the rice crisps. The aroma of the broth mingled with the scent of the crisps, filling the kitchen with what felt like the rich, hearty essence of life itself.

Zheng Changhe hurried over, picked up a bowl, and took a sip of the soup first. He grinned foolishly. “Delicious!”

Mrs. Yang handed him a pair of chopsticks and shot him a look. “Look at you, so greedy! Aren’t you afraid the kids will laugh at you?”

Zheng Changhe just chuckled, took the chopsticks, and carried his bowl over to the main room to sit at the table. The sound of his loud CRUNCHING was soon punctuated by the SLURPING of soup.

By the time the rest of the family sat down at the table, he had already finished half his bowl.

“This turtle soup is delicious!” he said to Juhua with a smile, his sun-darkened face glowing with happiness.

Juhua pursed her lips and smiled too.

’This father of hers,’ she thought, ’is so easy to please and so simple-hearted. As long as no major disaster strikes, he’s almost always cheerful!’

Mrs. Yang and Qingmu were also crunching away loudly. After a few bites, their mother said, “It’s rare to come across something like this. It won’t be easy to find another one this big. Big Mouth Zhao went to all that trouble just for us to reap the benefits.”

Juhua smiled. ’What if Big Mouth Zhao asks Brother about the turtle at noon?’ she wondered. She looked up at Qingmu and said, “Brother, if Big Mouth Zhao asks about the turtle at noon, just tell him we cooked and ate it last night. I’ll make some extra dishes for lunch, and you can give him a portion—we should return the favor, after all. Besides, maybe he’ll give us the next turtle he catches!”

Qingmu grunted in agreement. Seeing his sister’s eyes curve into smiling crescents, he felt his spirits lift as well. He said, “Didn’t Third Uncle Zhao also say he’d give one to you if he caught anything? They don’t know how to cook it right anyway.”

That’s how it was with some country folk. A person could cook their whole life and never improve, everything always tasting the same.

Their mother said, “Actually, this clear stew is still a bit rich. It’s not as good as the braised version from last night. But these rice crisps are fragrant and crunchy, and with that hint of salty shrimp paste, the soup is a perfect match for them!”

Qingmu chewed a large mouthful and mumbled, “Delicious. Really good!”

Zheng Changhe, however, just smiled at Juhua and said, “Let’s eat like this for breakfast from now on. If there’s no turtle soup, other soups will do!”

His wife glared at him. “Where are we going to get that many rice crisps for you to eat? You can’t toast that many at once, and it wastes firewood!”

Juhua chewed on the crunchy rice crisps, thinking about the famous “Old Duck Soup with Rice Crisps” from her past life. ’It couldn’t even compare to this,’ she mused. ’There was another dish, too, called “Sizzler.” You’d deep-fry the rice crisps until they were golden and fluffy, then pour scalding hot meat broth over them while they were still hot. The crisps would SIZZLE nonstop, which is how the dish got its name. Those restaurant owners were certainly creative!’

’But I have to be frugal even with the oil for stir-frying, let alone deep-frying rice crisps. It looks like when the pigs are grown, and we slaughter them for meat, I’ll have to make sure to render and save the lard.’

She said to her mother, “Ma, the leaves on the back mountain are in a thick layer. It would be great if we brought them home to use as fuel. The wood ash can also be used to fertilize the fields. If our whole family spends a few days of hard work on the mountain, we could gather a huge pile.”

Zheng Changhe quickly said, “Hua’er is right! I’ll go rake some up when I’m free!” He was very good-natured and never idle for a moment, like a hardworking old ox, always toiling without complaint.

After the meal, Juhua mixed the leached acorn kernels with the chopped pig feed and gave it to the pigs. She mixed in more for the big hog and less for the piglets. As expected, they all ate with great enthusiasm!

Juhua called her parents and brother over to see. The whole family was overjoyed.

Mrs. Yang said, both excited and anxious, “We have to find time to go to the mountain and gather them quickly. Oh! But we’re so busy right now. Your father, let’s the two of us go gather for a day. Preparing these things is a hassle. You have to keep changing the water to soak them; you can’t just feed them directly.”

Qingmu glanced at his sister with admiration. “I’ll finish work early tonight and come back to help gather them.”

Zheng Changhe waved a hand. “It’s village work. You think you can just leave before it’s done? What’s the rush? I’ll put my own tasks aside for now and go gather these acorns. I can rake up some leaves and firewood at the same time.”

And so, for the sake of a few pigs, the family was bustling with activity again. Her parents went up the mountain to gather acorns, while Juhua washed clothes, cooked, and fed the pigs and chickens.

At noon, she deliberately cooked some extra dried fish, fried some chives with shrimp, and made a sauce with more shrimp. The vegetable was spinach. After a moment’s thought, she added a bowl of braised peanuts.

When it was time to take lunch to Qingmu, she had packed several bowls of food plus rice, and the basket was quite heavy. Her mother offered to take it, saying she could run faster. Juhua was happy to stay put and let her mother go.

In the afternoon, Qingmu indeed finished work early—many hands make light work, and the ancestral hall was repaired quickly.

He was thinking that if he hurried home, he could gather more acorns. While packing up his bamboo baskets and carrying pole, he asked Zhao San, “Third Uncle, are you free tomorrow? If you are, could you help our family out for a day? We’re thinking of digging a well!”

Seeing that Qingmu wasn’t treating him like a stranger, Zhao San was very pleased and readily agreed, “I’m free, I’m free. Don’t worry, I’ll be there tomorrow for sure.”

Nearby, Li Changxing laughed and said, “Qingmu, short on hands? I’ll come lend a hand too!”

Qingmu didn’t want to trouble too many people, so he thanked him, “With my father and I, plus Third Uncle Zhao, we should have enough people. I won’t impose on you.”

Big Mouth Zhao chimed in with a grin, “It’s no imposition! I’ll come lend a hand tomorrow too. It’s more lively with more people working!”

Qingmu just assumed he was joking and didn’t take it seriously. He then hurried home to gather acorns.

As he rounded the edge of the village, before he even reached the small path, someone suddenly darted out from behind a large tree. It was Liu’er!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep