??Chapter 300: Hot Potato_1
Chapter 300: Hot Potato_1
The entire yard was suffused with the aroma of food, yet Qiaoqiao hadn’t finished feeding the treasures up the mountain, so they simply couldn’t start the al.
Two staff mbers sat there, writing reports while their saliva went drip-drip.
They carried an air of aloofness, making Song Youde and Song Sancheng too embarrassed to strike up a conversation.
Little did they know, the two were also afraid that once they opened their mouths, their saliva would betray them first.
It wasn’t until Qiaoqiao finally returned and had just washed her hands clean that Seventh Uncle, with perfect timing, placed the last dish on the table, “Dinner’s ready!”
The two staff mbers instantly perked up!
Though Zu Jun was eager to invite people to eat, she hadn’t lied about one thing, that was—
Lunch really was simple homade fare.
Seventh Uncle had confidence in his cooking and even more so in the ingredients from Song Tan’s fields, which is why there were only four dishes and a soup on the large table.
Only, the portions were far larger than usual.
A pot of radish stewed with pork in a clay pot, a pot of stir-fried pak choy with pork lard crisps, a serving of fragrant onion scrambled eggs, and a dish of garlic sprouts with twice-cooked pork.
The finishing touch was a soup of schizonepeta with tofu.
At ho, they also made a pot of silver fungus soup.
In the large iron pot, rice simred, capped by a round, golden crust of crispy rice. Lifting the lid released a fragrant mist, and the eyes of the two staff mbers seed to want to follow the dish as it was carried away.
If it weren’t for retaining a shred of human dignity…
In any case, when everyone sat down, they were hardly polite, taking seats wherever they were told.
Zu Jun was almost drooling, but as a village official, she struggled to maintain her composure and dignity.
At this mont, with feigned politeness, she said, “I apologize for the plainness of our lunch. Please excuse us!”
Two bottles of Moutai paved the way, and she had practically beco Song Youde’s granddaughter by now, speaking with an air of kinship.
Plain it might have been, but neglected they certainly were not.
The two employees didn’t want to listen to her speak; they just wanted to reach for their chopsticks. Suppressing their overwhelming saliva, they also responded:
“Not plain at all, truly delicious!”
They hadn’t even tasted the food cooked in the clay pot yet, and already they couldn’t bear their cravings!
Seventh Uncle covertly curved his lips.
At this mont, Song Youde brought out a bottle of local liquor (he couldn’t bear to serve the Moutai), “How about a drink, you two?”
“No drinking, no drinking!”
All had to drive; who dared to drink?
Everyone quickly ushered him to sit at the head of the table.
“The elder must sit; we just want to enjoy the authentic farm dishes.”
“Exactly, exactly, don’t be shy!”
—Ah, let’s start eating already!
How could they as guests have the nerve to reach for food before Lao Song’s family started eating?
After so polite shuffling, they finally began to eat, one reaching for the pak choy and the other for the fragrant onion scrambled eggs.
Upon tasting, their expressions transford—it was unexpected, when did farm als beco this delicious?
What’s going on?
Both craned their necks to look at the simple stove in the yard: did these firewood possess magic powers or what?
However, this thought only flashed for a mont.
Afterward, their minds had no space for such musings. They were just issuing continuous commands—eat the pak choy, the garlic sprouts, the stewed radish with at, eat everything!
So delicious they could ow!
Thus, the four dishes were devoured like a tornado had passed through, leaving not a trace behind.
The plates were spotlessly clean, save for so soup and garlic cloves. Even the least eaten radish stewed pork now had only a small half-pot remaining. There was no need to save leftovers for the next al, as the treasures and the piglets could handle them.
Schizonepeta and tender tofu soup… Aiyo wei!!!
The taste of the locals is simply superb!
Zu Jun also ate until her belly was rounded, thankfully the loose clothes worn in the countryside hide it well.
She thought that she must find another opportunity to co for a al in a few days—those two bottles of Maotai were well worth it!
Such hidden talents in this small village, these culinary skills, these ingredients, my, they’re worthy of a state banquet and wouldn’t be traded for anything!
Song Youde was a bit embarrassed; he had the old ntality of hosting guests over many years and felt like he hadn’t fed them enough seeing the empty plates:
“Look at this, I made too little for lunch…”
“Not at all, not at all!”
Two staff mbers, who felt stuffed, waved their hands insistently. Now, they each held their waists and strolled slowly around the yard.
As they ambled, they couldn’t stop praising:
“Your family’s cooking is really delicious!”
“Indeed, in comparison to what I’ve eaten over the decades,” he said with a pained expression, “—even the good food fed to your family’s pigs doesn’t compare.”
After saying this, they looked at each other, thinking that there would be no more after this al, which made them even more heartbroken.
But Seventh Uncle actually loved seeing his dishes eaten clean, and now he brought over another big basin:
“Everyone, the Schizonepeta tofu soup was salty, how about we have so sweet trella soup to sweeten our mouths?”
More?!
The two waved their hands in horror: “No more, no more, our bellies are going to burst—hey, that actually slls quite sweet.”
The two eyed the simple stainless steel basin harboring the even simpler trella soup and couldn’t help but swallow their saliva again.
But really, they were so full…
However, Seventh Uncle no longer allowed them the space to be politely reserved.
He brought out two big bowls and fiercely scooped a spoonful for each, then he passed the small spoon over:
“Co, try the trella that we grew ourselves.”
How could they refuse?
You could tell the trella pieces were finely broken, but they were full of rich gelatin, fragrant and smooth on the palate, comforting from the throat to the stomach!
Unknowingly, they ended up walking and slurping, losing all composure as they finished the trella soup.
It was only then that they realized what had happened and blushed with hindsight.
But then they saw that everyone at Lao Song’s family was in the sa state, including the village secretary who had called them over, who now stood in the corridor spooning the trella soup one spoon after another.
Seeing them look over, he even smiled and asked, “Another bowl?”
No more, really no more! The two truly couldn’t eat another bite!
Now, holding their bellies, they began to walk in circles in the yard.
As they walked, they suddenly asked, “Fellow villager, you just ntioned that you grew the trella yourselves, do you sell it?”
Selling, of course, was an option, but how could they just sell trella?
Song Tan then interjected, “Gentlen, you’ve also seen the situation with the long-tailed pheasants. How should our family handle it? Just leave them be?”
The staff mbers rembered their official duty and promptly said, “We recorded everything; indeed, they ca to your chicken coop all by themselves and seem not to want to leave.”
“If that’s the case, then let’s handle it cold—don’t interfere. But one thing, make sure they aren’t eaten or wounded by sothing from the mountains.”
“Furthermore, while they’re in your ho, you have the responsibility to take good care of them. Don’t get any ideas… Long-tailed pheasants, frankly, how much could they sell for? But if it cos to an investigation, not to ntion anything else, two or three years would be the certain outco.”
Great!
Song Tan understood: she had been handed two hot potatoes! No, plus a whole nest of little ones!
She sighed, then looked back at the two staff mbers, and again smiled kindly:
“Gentlen, would you like so tea, or perhaps so honey water?”
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