19 Sobering Ice

The heat intensified, and even though mosquito coils were lit, several small red spots still appeared on Wei Jinyun’s skin by morning. She gently pinched the dried mud used to build the courtyard stove; it was already completely dry inside.

With that, her shop was basically repaired, only a few broken windows remained. If they didn’t fix those soon, by July or August, the four of them—grandmother and the three sisters—would surely be eaten alive by swarms of mosquitoes.

Changmen Market had now become Wei Jinyun’s daily haunt, as habitual as a trip to the vegetable market.

When she went out, Brother Meng from Li’s Delicatessen was still sitting on his usual small stool, eating porridge. He greeted her with a smile, as if nothing had happened yesterday.

“Sister Wei.”

Brother Meng set his bowl aside and picked up a jar from the ground. “Did your family lose some money?”

“No, we didn’t.”

Wei Jinyun took the jar and glanced inside. It was a simple earthenware pot containing about a hundred copper coins. She looked around. “Where did it come from?”

“When I opened the door this morning, it was just there at my doorstep.”

He scratched his head. “Not sure who’s as forgetful as me, always losing things. Since it’s not yours, Sister Wei, I’ll wait here for the owner to come and claim it.”

Brother Meng was the same age as her younger sisters but taller by half a head. Every day, while Zhao Xiangping adjusted the marinade for roasted ducks and geese in the shop, he helped by opening the door and sweeping up leftover bones.

The copper coins in the earthen jar were both new and old, some stained with oil and traces of vegetable scent.

Wei Jinyun returned the jar and ruffled his hair. “Go ask your mother—maybe it’s from the Maitreya statue at Hanshan Temple.”

Brother Meng responded with a hum and hurried inside to find Zhao Xiangping.

Changmen was still bustling; this hour was hotter than boiling porridge.

In summer, many old women set up stalls selling pickled vegetables. Though Wang Qiulan had pickled quite a few herself, they had only been soaking for two days. Wei Jinyun picked through the offerings with bamboo tongs, tasting here and there, finally deciding on three jars of particularly good flavor.

After finishing two red bean oil cakes, she headed into the wood and stone craftsman’s shop. Having visited often, she found the scent of fresh wood quite pleasant.

“Shopkeeper Wang, business has been good lately, huh?”

Wei Jinyun stepped over a mountain of wood shavings piled on the floor. “I came to pick up my wheeled cart.”

Wang the carpenter peeked out, his hair loosely tied with bits of wood shavings stuck in it. “Madam Wei, you’re here! I polished it bright for you early this morning.”

He dragged out a wooden cart about half a person’s height, a square box mounted on small wheels with a wooden handle nailed on top. As he pulled it, he proudly explained, “Wouldn’t it be great if this handle could extend and retract... I figured it out! I added two hidden clasps inside so the handle folds away neatly into a corner. Take a look!”

“Better get your breakfast first,” his wife chided, pulling the loose hairband from his head. “You’ll go crazy sleeping among the shavings all night, thinking you’re some immortal.”

“Oh, I’ll eat, I’ll eat.”

Wang went to sit nearby, munching porridge with spicy mustard pickles.

Wei Jinyun lifted the wooden handle, the four wheels rolling quietly and steadily on the ground.

She smiled softly. “More ingenious than I imagined. No wonder your shop has the highest piles of wood shavings around... I brought the money. Take a look.”

The ancients had endless wisdom. She had only provided a simple blueprint and didn’t understand the complicated structure inside, yet Wang had made it for her. With this wheeled box, whether she or her grandmother went shopping, they wouldn’t have to carry heavy loads by hand, saving their backs.

Wang’s wife waved her hand. “No rush. Just pay together with the carved windows. The two you want can be finished in two days. When ready, I’ll have Dalang deliver and install them at your shop since he took the measurements anyway.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Wang. When the shop opens, I’ll order the remaining carved windows from you as well.”

“Deal!”

Wei Jinyun loaded the three jars of pickles into her cart and bought some Qiong branches and vegetables.

Pingjiang Prefecture had many boats. From Loumen Gate, one could enter the Yangtze River and sail out to sea. The water routes were convenient, so some common seafood was cheaper here than in Bianliang. When locals craved fresh flavors, they bought some seafood.

Qiong branches were considered affordable seafood for Pingjiang residents.

Upon returning to the shop, Wei Jinyun noticed Li’s Delicatessen was closed and not open for business.

Her younger sisters unloaded the goods one by one. Wei Fuqu placed a watermelon in a bucket by the well and lowered it in, while Wei Fuling fetched water to soak the Qiong branches.

Half of the Qiong branches were washed several times and soaked in rice washing water, the other half prepared as a cold dish. The hot weather was perfect for eating cold dishes.

Once the water in the mud stove boiled, Wei Jinyun put the Qiong branches in to cook. While waiting, she sliced a fresh cucumber bought earlier into thin strips with a kitchen knife.

She handed two pieces to her sisters, who crunched on the crisp cucumber while keeping an eye on the stove.

Qiong branches only needed to be blanched once. After removing and rinsing, Wei Jinyun squeezed out the water, cut them into inch-long segments, and mixed them with the cucumber strips in a bowl.

She added two spoonfuls of vinegar and one spoonful of bean paste, stirring it all to coat the vegetables. Lacking chili and peanuts, the flavor was somewhat incomplete, so she chopped a few sprigs of coriander and mixed them in.

“Today’s meal was cooked in an iron pot. Give it a try.”

Wang Qiulan served rice for the three sisters and handed out chopsticks.

There was so much salted chicken and duck from her elder sister that Wang Qiulan stewed some with rice every other day.

Today’s dish was waxed pork pea rice.

The waxed pork coated each grain of rice with oil, mingling with the green peas, the dish rich in color and aroma. Wang Qiulan made sure to add a bit of crispy rice crust to each bowl.

The pork was sliced thin, half fat and half lean, the fat having melted into the rice during cooking, fragrant without being greasy. It had to be eaten all together—the softness of the rice, the powdery peas, the savory pork, and the crunchy crust—layered flavors offering endless delight.

Naturally, the cold Qiong branch salad was indispensable.

The prepared Qiong branches were crisp like yellow flowers, crunchy with a satisfying snap. Rinsed in cold water and mixed with vinegar, the dish was cold, fresh, and crisp, sharper than hot dishes.

The locust tree overhead had few clusters of flowers left, but its dense green leaves shaded the courtyard like a canopy. After the meal, a breeze carried the scent of locust flowers and the drowsy laziness of a summer afternoon.

Zhang Renbai arrived punctually at the neighboring shop.

He had been frequenting the area so often that he had completely mastered Wei Jinyun’s routine.

After lunch, they always took a half-hour nap with grandmother and the younger sisters before rising to work on some pastries. When he entered, Wei Jinyun was pressing cooked Qiong branch juice through a cloth into a large bowl.

After soaking in rice washing water, the Qiong branches were pounded in a stone mortar, mixed with vinegar to remove the fishiness, and simmered for half an hour to extract the juice. Wei Jinyun had bought three pounds of mulberries yesterday after closing the stall—the last mulberries of June, sun-dried on the tree, ripe and purple, their sweetness intoxicating.

Naturally, she mashed some mulberries and added them to the simmering mixture.

The purple Qiong branch juice was poured into molds Wei Jinyun carved every evening after closing, then placed in freshly drawn well water to cool.

“Coming into this courtyard, I don’t know where to stand—everywhere is so elegant.”

Zhang Renbai was the first to speak after some thought, eliciting laughter from Wei Jinyun and her sisters.

A little embarrassed, he went on, “It feels strange without Brother Meng today. Aunt Zhao took him to the attorney.”

“You’re busy at your shop, Zhang Gongzi. I’ll send you some pastries tonight.”

Wei Jinyun wrapped some mint layered cakes, while her two younger sisters pressed jasmine cakes into molds. The harmonious scene inspired Zhang Renbai to compose a poem on the spot.

“Your mint layered cakes taste wonderful. I was thinking of buying two to keep at the shop.”

Compared to the jasmine cakes, Zhang Renbai preferred the mint layered ones—soft and chewy, stretchy. Most of the samples from yesterday had ended up in his stomach.

“The price’s the same.”

Wei Jinyun cut a fresh piece from the oven and handed it to him. “Let’s keep the contract as before: twenty jasmine cakes, ten mint layered cakes. How’s that?”

“Sounds great!”

Zhang Renbai chewed the warm, sticky cake with delight. “Delicious, really delicious... What are you making now? The juice you just poured out looks smooth like agate.”

“Take two pieces home and try them, and you’ll know.”

“Perfect!”

Thanks to her parents for opening the stationery shop here.

Compared to sixty jasmine cakes daily, Wei Jinyun only made half as many mint layered cakes. New products had to be introduced gradually, refined and scarce, to leave a lasting impression.

After sharing two slices of watermelon with her sisters, she pushed the cart toward the academy’s entrance.

Before she could park, someone approached to buy cakes.

“Little Lady Wei chose a great spot. Usually, there aren’t so many buyers for my egg pancakes at this hour.”

After selling over ten cakes and taking a break to drink water, Madam Qian joked with her. She gave the two sisters egg pancakes to share and refused payment.

To repay the kindness, Wei Fuling shouted a few sales pitches, attracting several customers.

The two chatted casually. Wei Fuqu’s sharp eyes soon spotted the lady from yesterday—the one who silenced the scholar with just a few words.

“I shared some pastries with my sisters yesterday.”

Lv Lantang paid skillfully in silver, picked a cake to taste, and hesitated before speaking. “They liked it very much... Do you have any other specialties? I... I have a tea gathering.”

“Yes, I do.”

Wei Jinyun offered the new Qiong branch dessert. “Miss Lv, would you like to try this?”

The delicate treat on the porcelain plate was translucent, shimmering faintly, dotted with mulberries and jasmine flowers, like dewdrops crystallized.

“So beautiful.”

Lv Lantang lifted her spoon and gently tapped it; the dessert wobbled lightly. “Is this a vegetarian hangover jelly?”