A small plot of land in a mountain village

Chapter 46 Smoothie and Yellow Rice Noodles

After the villagers came, many more ducklings appeared on the village paths. Their yellow downy feathers were painted with their own spare red powder on their wings to prevent them from mixing with other ducks. Some even had small red strings tied around their necks.

Two restaurant owners came over and bought all the remaining hundred-plus ducks from last time, saying there were too many people during the National Day holiday. Zhang Niu just smiled. He knew their little scheme perfectly well—they just wanted to make as much money as possible during the holiday. Zhang Niu also raised the price, as a National Day reward, and casually inquired whether they would buy the large, rustic ducks raised in their village. After a brief discussion, the two owners said they could buy them; the ducks from the mountain village tasted good, just at a lower price. They told him to call back when they could sell them.

Seeing that there were far fewer ducks in the pond, Zhang Niu decided to raise more this time. With only two months until the end of the year, another batch would be enough to celebrate the New Year. Now that cell phone signal was better in the mountain village, it was easier to contact people. Buying ducklings was just a matter of making a phone call, and delivery could be arranged. This time, Zhang Niu ordered two thousand ducks at once, just enough to fill the duck shed. It didn't matter if the extras slept by the pond; they weren't egg-laying ducks and wouldn't roll into the water.

Riding my bike, I figured I should go back to the village and talk to the village head about things in the mountains. In the back of the bike was a bucket of yellowfin tuna and loach, caught over the past few days using shrimp traps; each trap held several pounds of them almost daily. The yellowfin tuna were now thicker than my thumb, their bright yellow skin shimmering in the blazing sun.

Upon arriving in the village, many villagers noticed the yellow liquid in the buckets. This drew considerable attention and curiosity.

"Kid, um... where did you catch that yellow rascal?"

"I heard they're raised by their own family. They're in those two ponds in front of the house."

Zhang Niu gave a few casual replies and dragged his cart home. That's how it is in the village; people come out to ask about everything, a characteristic of rural life.

We greeted the villagers we encountered along the way. We saw many people making steamed dough in their front yards. The temperature hasn't been high these past few days, which is perfect for making this kind of dough.

I parked the car at the gate. Carrying the bucket, I went into the yard and found Zhang Ma also making noodles. She had already hung quite a few, almost reaching the ground. Zhang Ba, on the other hand, was using two large bamboo sticks—you could say they were giant chopsticks—to separate the noodles, preventing them from sticking together. Once they cooled down, they wouldn't need much attention.

Zhang's father, who was separating noodles, saw Zhang Niu come in. "Come help your mother knead the dough. Otherwise, there won't be time to dry the other noodles later."

He put down the bucket, washed his hands, rolled up his sleeves, and started kneading dough. Zhang Niu could knead dough too. That was all he could do. Other girls were already quite adept at it at a very young age. But the little sister in the family was an exception. When she wasn't in school, she was nowhere to be seen and was quite a match for Wenwen from next door.

With Zhang Niu's help, the process was much faster, and half an hour later, all the noodles had been extracted. Noodles were hung on the wooden racks. Some racks of noodles were already showing signs of drying out slightly. It seems our extraction today went quite well. The problem with extracting these noodles is that they might be uneven, or wider at the top and narrower at the bottom. Noodles like that, when cooked, will taste like dough, lacking that refreshing texture.

Zhang's father carried a bucket to the well and poured all the yellow catfish into a large basin, seemingly intending to kill the catfish himself.

"Is this yellow mutton from your pond?" asked Zhang's father, who was sharpening a kitchen knife.

"Yes, I bought a few shrimp traps from a village a few days ago. Let's see how big these yellow prawns in the pond are," Zhang Niu replied, drawing a bucket of well water.

"You little yellow sheep. You've got quite a lot. Anyway, you brought back a lot this time. Take some to the village chief's house later to thank him for his help."

"I understand. I was going to send it anyway, even if you hadn't said anything. I also have something to discuss with him."

Sharpen the cleaver. Take out a small bowl. Sprinkle some salt on it. Grab a yellow bone and smash it on the ground. The bone twitches. Pick it up again and place it on the cutting board. Smash the cleaver from end to end; this makes it easy to pull out the bone. The blood will flow into the bowl.

With his skillful hands, Zhang's father quickly peeled out about twenty yellow loaches. He chopped them into sections so they could be stir-fried with chili peppers later. As for the remaining loaches, luckily they had some tofu they bought that morning, so they could make a famous dish called "Loach Drilling into Tofu."

The dish "Loach Drilling into Tofu" is something Zhang Niu can't make, not even Zhang's mother. Only Zhang's father can. It's one of the few dishes in the village that can cook. Most people can't get the loaches to burrow into it; they'd usually be scalded to death on the outside. What kind of dish would "Loach Drilling into Tofu" be then?

Thinking about that dish, Zhang Niu realized he was drooling. He quickly wiped it away—too embarrassing! People quench their thirst by looking at plums; he was drooling over the thought of loach stewed with tofu.

I was just about to clean the area around the well when Wenwen's mom from next door came in. I went up to her and asked, "Aunt Wen, what's up? Please come in and have a seat."

"No, I'd rather stay outside. Um... I heard from the village that you brought back a lot of yellow pheasants today, is that right?"

"Yeah. I just finished cleaning up the yellow residue. What's wrong?"

"My relatives from the county came to visit. We didn't have much food at home. While washing vegetables in front of the door, I heard from others that you brought back a lot of yellow radishes today, so I came over to see if you had any extra. I'd like to buy some for them to try."

Zhang Niu thought it was something serious when he heard this. "Aunt Wen, I thought it was something serious. It's just a yellow rice dish. Just say so, why mention money? Wait a minute, I'll go in and get a rice washing basket."

Aunt Wen breathed a sigh of relief, watching Zhang Niu's retreating figure. "That kid's really something."

He filled the rice washing basket with a lot of yellow catfish and loaches. Then he handed it to Aunt Wen. "Here, take it. Don't keep your relatives waiting."

"Thank you." She took the rice washing basket and went back.

A close neighbor is worse than a distant relative. This is still very common in rural areas. Everyone sees each other all the time. Occasionally, someone will cook dumplings or something else and share some with the neighbor. It's just for the sake of making someone happy.

Zhang's father cooked lunch, an opportunity that rarely comes around. It only happens a few times a year. He even drank the yellowish-brown blood. It tasted sweet and had almost no flavor. It's good for older people who know how to drink; it's good for the blood. Who wouldn't like that, even if it's a bit like being a wild man?

In front of the whole plate of braised eel, Zhang Niu and his younger sister each secretly grabbed a few pieces and put them in their mouths. Spicy. Boneless eel meat. Tender and fresh. It's just that there wasn't nearly enough cooked. It all shrank into tiny pieces.

The next dish, "Loach Drilling into Tofu," is quite different. Lifting the lid reveals that most of the loaches have burrowed into the tender white tofu. With only a few sticking out, the dish is considered a success. A sprinkle of chopped scallions completes the presentation.

Second update. The votes increased very little today, please vote and add to your favorites! Also, please forgive me for not being able to update as often as I'm usually quite busy.