In the bedroom’s flat cabinet, another square little bag was added. Feng Man glanced lightly and almost couldn’t count how many things were inside. She turned her head, and the two clean family planning supplies drying by the window were taken down by the man’s rough palm and properly stored away.
Feng Man: “…”
Wasn’t this a bit too much? Someone who didn’t know might think they were opening a store.
The Family Planning Office staff had been enthusiastic. As they left, they were beaming with joy. If Feng Man hadn’t hurriedly seen them off, she suspected the two cadres might impulsively give them a few more bags of unsold stock…
Seeing this, Dong Xiaojuan smiled and teased the couple: “Young people are like this.”
Fan Zhenghua winked even more at his cousin and patted the young man’s sturdy shoulder: “Take it easy.”
He understood. Back when he had just gotten married, young and vigorous, everyone went through that phase. He was an old hand at it, an old hand.
Feng Man listened until her ears burned a little. She had been in this era for several months now and knew that people spoke quite bluntly, especially those who had been married for years—they weren’t shy at all.
Usually after dinner, the nearby neighbors gathered under the trees to cool off, gossiping about this family and that, saying whatever came to mind.
But the man beside her remained perfectly composed, without the slightest embarrassment from the teasing. His face was really quite thick-skinned.
Fan You Shan didn’t understand these things and tilted his little head curiously: “What’s wrong with young people? What does ‘take it easy’ mean?”
This time, the four adults in the house spoke in unison: “Adult matters, kids stay out of it. Have you finished your homework?”
Fan You Shan: “…”
He slipped away.
Fan You Shan ran off like smoke. How could people chatting suddenly urge him to do homework? These adults were too scary!
Thump thump thump, he ran outside to play marbles with his good friends. Fan You Shan lay on the ground aiming, his nimble fingers flicking forcefully. The transparent, crystalline marble rolled forward, smoothly falling into the hole.
“Hey! I got it in! I won!” As the only kid to land in the hole, Fan You Shan cheered excitedly but suddenly smelled a fragrance.
He sniffed hard, carefully distinguishing the scent in the air. A fresh, fragrant smell—oh, it was too alluring.
The group of kids nearby smelled it too, inhaling deeply in intoxication, unconsciously swallowing their saliva.
“What’s that smell? So fragrant.”
“Smells like some kind of soup!”
Fan You Shan’s eyes suddenly lit up: “It must be the soup my auntie made!”
Which kid from the nearby homes didn’t know that Fan You Shan had an auntie who was amazing at cooking? Her sesame flatbread with braised pork and stir-fried noodles were so fragrant. This time, it had to be something good.
“Xiaoshan, we want to go see too—not really, just smell it.” Dog Egg swallowed his saliva.
Fan You Shan looked at his group of drooling friends and nodded: “But you have to listen to me.”
“Okay!”
The fresh, savory aroma of the soup wafted from a courtyard, carried by the breeze to scatter in all directions.
Feng Man stirred the savory milky white fish soup simmering in the large iron pot with a big iron ladle.
Fish meat with bones was pan-fried with ginger slices until golden, then mashed with a spatula, poured into boiling water with chopped green onions, and simmered together. The soup gradually turned snow-white, milky like milk.
She scooped out all the mashed fish and bones with a strainer, added shredded white radish and cubed tofu, then sprinkled in goji berries and red dates, simmering for a few more minutes.
The milky white fish soup swirled with the ladle, pure white in color, dotted with red dates and goji berries on the surface—vast expanses of white accented by bright red specks, extremely beautiful.
The white and red complemented each other, whetting appetites and making one swallow involuntarily.
Dong Xiaojuan stared from the side, having never seen such white soup: “This color looks amazing, and the smell is even fresher!”
Fish was naturally tender and fresh; made into fish soup, it was even more delicious, with the aroma carrying far.
“Sister-in-law, brother-in-law, come try the new dish.” Feng Man had tested some foods a few days ago, but they were either too troublesome to make or cooled too quickly in winter, losing their best flavor by the time they sold.
After thinking it over, soup was the most suitable for winter! Simple and convenient, she could make a big pot at once. It cooled slowly when pushed out for sale, with full color, aroma, and flavor—especially the rolling hot steam, the perfect sales pitch. Just seeing it made one want a bowl.
Fan Zhenghua and Dong Xiaojuan each got a bowl of milky white fish soup. As soon as it entered their mouths, the fresh flavors rushed in, warming their limbs and bones. The rich, fresh taste lingered endlessly.
“So fresh! It warms the body too!” Fan Zhenghua gulped down a bowl, then became enamored with the tofu’s fragrant softness and the sweet freshness of the radish shreds inside. “The stuff in it is delicious too! This is perfect for winter! Us miners will have more energy for work after eating this!”
The temperature had dropped again today, with the wind howling outside. After a bowl of fish soup, from hands to feet, everything warmed up.
Dong Xiaojuan also finished a bowl, eating all the ingredients clean, and eagerly got another: “The taste is so good! I’ve never had such delicious fish soup. How are your hands made…”
Feng Man smiled and ladled herself a bowl to taste. It had been a long time since she made fish soup, and unexpectedly, it tasted just like her grandmother’s back then—full of memories.
Cheng Lang, who had finished calculating the accounts inside, came out at the noise. Feng Man hurriedly called to him: “Grab a bowl, try this delicious stuff!”
“No need.” Cheng Lang used Feng Man’s bowl directly, drinking the remaining half clean, then filling it full and eating heartily.
Thinking this man had high standards, Feng Man blinked, waiting for his verdict: “How is it?”
“Tasty.” Cheng Lang was concise.
Feng Man smiled until her eyes curved, about to urge him to have a few more bowls, when noise came from the gate.
Xiaoshan’s small head poked in from the door. Feng Man waved him over: “Xiaoshan, come drink soup.”
“Auntie, I have a few friends here.” Xiaoshan wasn’t sure if there was enough soup.
“Come in together!” Feng Man eyed the large pot of fish soup—three or four people couldn’t finish it.
As soon as she spoke, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh… six or seven little heads popped up overlapping at the door. The group of kids stared at her with sparkling eyes.
Feng Man: QAQ
That evening, the nearby kids were in for a treat. Each got a bowl of fish soup and praised Auntie Feng Man’s skills effusively.
Surrounded by the kids, Feng Man was praised like a flower. It was clear kids would say anything for food, acting coquettish—it was impossible to resist.
As night fell, the crowd dispersed. Feng Man returned to the room beaming. Soon, Cheng Lang packed everything up, closed the main room door, and entered the inner room.
“You like kids quite a bit?” The man asked indifferently.
“Not bad, these kids are all pretty cute.” Feng Man was fairly good with children.
“Want your own child?” Cheng Lang pressed.
“Not for now.” Feng Man felt she was still young and wanted a few more years of freedom. “Don’t tell me you want a kid?”
“No.” Cheng Lang had no interest in marriage or children due to his family background.
It was just that now, he was very interested in the former, but still had no thoughts on the latter.
Feng Man caught the implication in his words. So he had seen her playing happily with the kids earlier and worried she wanted to have one?
She really didn’t!
Playing with other people’s kids was fun, but raising your own wasn’t that simple.
Kids were still better when they belonged to others.
“Good.” Feng Man extended her hand to the man, preparing to shake on it. “We agree.”
Cheng Lang’s lip hooked up. He grasped the woman’s slender hand, but his gaze fell on the family planning supplies she had washed last night and hung by the window: “Good, then remember to use them later.”
Feng Man: QAQ
……
Business near the Mine District remained good, but braised pork lost heat in autumn and winter—perfect timing to switch to Feng Man’s new planned dish.
Dong Xiaojuan was eager about when to launch the new item: “Send it out tomorrow! Guaranteed to make them all drool!”
Feng Man listened to the weather report on the TV but shook her head: “Wait two more days.”
“Why?” Dong Xiaojuan didn’t understand what they were waiting for.
Fish as raw material was easy to source; they could negotiate with fish vendors or easily buy from local river fishers.
“The weather report just said a cold wave will hit in two days, with a big temperature drop. This warming thing needs to launch during the first major cold snap of the year so everyone remembers how good it is.” Feng Man had it all planned—what suited each season, timing it to customers’ sense of hot and cold.
“Oh! That’s right!” Dong Xiaojuan immediately began counting the days until the cold.
Two days later, Ink River City welcomed its first big temperature drop of the year. Early winter arrived abruptly. Residents donned thicker clothes—long sleeves, pants, and thin jackets. Even the miners doing physical labor in the Mine District wore work jackets, only removing them when working up a sweat, draping them over shoulders or tying at the waist, then putting them back on after work to face the chill.
When the weather turned cold, everyone craved hot water or a whole bowl of hot soup. Cold foods weren’t easy to eat.
Workers and nearby residents went out foraging for food, searching stalls. Where steam rose high and white smoke rolled, there was hot food.
A large pot of fresh milky white fish soup, fragrant and savory, was placed on the wooden cart along with sesame flatbread and stir-fried noodles and brought to the stall.
Feng’s had something new today. Regular customers were curious, drawn by the aroma and unable to look away from the large iron pot: “What’s this? Smells so good!”
Dong Xiaojuan started the sales pitch: “Good stuff! Guaranteed to make you feel great all over!”
With Dong Xiaojuan’s self-praise, Feng Man lifted the lid. Hot steam from the insulated deep bucket burst out instantly.
White steam rolled and scattered, carrying the fresh aroma everywhere, drilling into everyone’s noses. All inhaled deeply.
Fragrant, truly fragrant!
The bucket of soup was milky white, whiter than milk, topped with bright red goji berries and dates—beautiful and enticing.
He Chunsheng pushed through: “Master’s wife, what soup is this? How much?”
“The freshest fish soup perfect for winter, fifty cents a bowl, with plenty of sides—tofu and radish shreds. Pair it with a sesame flatbread for perfection.”
He Chunsheng paid first: “I’ll have a bowl, plus a flatbread.”
The fish soup was fresh and savory with a hint of saltiness. One sip chased away the chill. The tofu absorbed the broth, already smooth and tender; a gentle bite seemed to burst with fish soup freshness. The radish shreds were distinct, inherently sweet and fresh, intertwining with the soup for extra savoriness.
Finally, breaking the bought flatbread and dipping it—even just the crust soaking up soup brought new flavors.
Dry flatbread was crisp; soaked, soft and fragrant. Different tastes, equally delicious.
He Chunsheng finished a bowl of soup and flatbread clean. It seemed his whole body warmed up, hands and feet toasty, spirits lifted.
“Song Guodong, what are you standing there for? Get a bowl quick, so fresh! Delicious!”
Song Guodong clutched his money and shook his head: “I can’t squeeze in.”
He Chunsheng: “…”
Even with our connection to master’s wife, no backdoor?
Turning, He Chunsheng saw Brother Fan Zhenghua also queuing outside. Fine, even the closest family hadn’t bought yet. He patted Song Guodong’s shoulder: “No worries, queue up.”
Feng Man had deliberately launched the fish soup on this big cold day, and it quickly gained fame.
Most residents weren’t prepared for the cold wave. In the biting wind, with cold hands and feet, downing this hot, fresh fish soup was like rain after a long drought—unforgettable.
The large bucket of fish soup sold out fast, nearly robbed clean.
Yuan Qiumei’s speed scooping soup couldn’t keep up. Seeing only enough for one last bowl, two miners reached for money at once.
“One bowl of fish soup!”
“One for Brother Zhou, my treat!”
Yuan Qiumei looked up: one unfamiliar miner, the other her husband and his good brother.
After a brief thought, Yuan Qiumei took the unfamiliar miner’s money and scooped him the last bowl.
Zhou Yuejin, dragged by his workmate to buy food, darkened his face: “…”