Chapter 50: Planning the Lamb Soup

None of this was known to Ming Dai or Zhou Sinian; they had returned home early. After locking the door, Zhou Sinian went straight to take a bath, and Ming Dai hurriedly led him into the space. Without needing Ming Dai to urge him, he tossed his basket aside and dashed into his room to start bathing. Ming Dai herself was exhausted; she went upstairs, ran a hot bath, and soaked until she felt revived.

When she came out, Zhou Sinian was already outside, washing his basket at the faucet, using rose-scented shower gel. Ming Dai looked helplessly at the suds all over the ground, but there was nothing to be done—as long as he was happy. She put the rice on to steam, then went to check on the sheep pen in the back. The lambs’ wool was now dry, fluffy as little rose-scented clouds, and rather cute. The only eyesore was the scattered “chocolate” everywhere; Ming Dai wondered how she might coax the neat-freak Zhou Sinian into helping clean the pen. The answer, of course, was Chinese cuisine!

She began to make plans for tomorrow’s lamb soup. She wasn’t sure if Aunt Huang would trust her enough to let her handle the cooking. After scattering some corn as feed for the sheep, she thought that she ought to plant some grass for them too; the land in the space should be put to use.

With these thoughts, she stepped past Zhou Sinian, who was still scrubbing away, and went back inside.

They had dinner in the space: Ming Dai stir-fried spicy chicken, steamed white rice, and made tomato and egg soup. Perhaps they were simply too tired, for the two of them finished everything, soup included. Ming Dai declared that they simply had to earn money—otherwise, their appetites alone would bankrupt them!

After washing up, Zhou Sinian went to stoke the heated bed, loading it with plenty of firewood. Judging by the weather, snow would soon begin to fall, and without a warm bed at night, they’d wake up freezing multiple times. That night, the two of them fell asleep almost instantly, while elsewhere in the village, other residents—whether excited, regretful, or jealous—mostly lay awake.

The next morning, the commune members arrived at the worksite early, eager to finish quickly and eat sooner. Ming Dai and Zhou Sinian also rose early, cooked millet porridge, steamed buns, and enjoyed them with some pickles.

After breakfast, Zhou Sinian hurried to scrub the pots and wash the dishes, then stood at the door with his little satchel, waiting for Ming Dai. Ming Dai packed some seasonings into her basket before leaving.

That morning, Ming Dai had already primed Zhou Sinian: at noon, she would make a lamb soup even tastier than chicken soup. Her description made his mouth water uncontrollably, and he could hardly wait.

The two strolled over to Captain Liu’s house, where only Aunt Huang and Sister-in-law Huang were home—the children had already run off to play.

“Oh, Xiao Ming is here! Come in, come in!” Aunt Huang had already finished breakfast and was helping her daughter-in-law lay out dried vegetables under the sun. Ming Dai spotted a heap of dried green beans and was tempted. “Auntie, you’re so industrious—you’ve saved up so many dried vegetables!”

Country folk love to be praised for their diligence, and Aunt Huang beamed, “It’s just stuff from the fields, costs nothing. Tonight, I’ll have my eldest send some over for you and Zhou Sinian. You came late, and there’s no fresh vegetables in winter—you can’t eat cabbage and radishes every meal.”

Ming Dai gave a shy smile. “Thank you, Auntie. I was just too embarrassed to ask for any.”

Sister-in-law Huang laughed, “No need to be embarrassed—we’re all family here.”

It wasn’t that Huang Dalian was so generous; after all, these dried vegetables came from their own plot, but they still took time and effort to prepare. She wouldn’t give them out to just anyone—but Xiao Ming, the educated youth, was different. Her own son had eaten plenty of what Xiao Ming had brought, and she wasn’t one to take without giving in return.

Aunt Huang approved of Dalian precisely for this reason—she understood social etiquette, wasn’t foolishly generous nor miserly, and knew when to be tight and when to be loose. She was far better than their second daughter-in-law, whose pettiness everyone disliked. Truly, she had chosen the right person.

After exchanging a few more compliments, Ming Dai turned the conversation to the sheep. Aunt Huang nodded toward the main room. “It’s hanging inside. I watched over it all night, worried the mice would get to it. I salted the blood to let it coagulate; we’ll cook it all together at noon!”

Huang Dalian glanced warily at the madman squatting by the stable. “Xiao Ming, how did you two catch that sheep?”

Aunt Huang glared at her daughter-in-law. “Don’t ask silly questions!”

Sister-in-law Huang smiled sheepishly. “I was just curious.”

Ming Dai shook her head, unconcerned. “It’s fine, Auntie. Nothing to hide—we were just lucky. Zhou Sinian and I went up the mountain looking for chestnut shells to use as fire kindling, and happened to see a goat slip down the hillside. Before I could react, Zhou Sinian had already pounced and grabbed it, then knocked it out with a rock.”

Aunt Huang and Sister-in-law Huang nodded in understanding. “So that’s what happened! No wonder—you really were lucky. Animals rarely come down the cliffs, but maybe it was after the tender leaves this time, otherwise you wouldn’t have caught it.”

Ming Dai nodded along, then asked, “Auntie, how do you plan to cook the mutton?”

Aunt Huang smiled, “Your uncle said we’d make lamb soup for lunch and share it with everyone. We’ll set aside a leg for you—later, you can decide how to prepare it.”

Ming Dai’s eyes lit up—just as she’d thought, they were making lamb soup. “Who’ll be doing the cooking?”

Aunt Huang looked a bit embarrassed. “I will—since I’m the only one free. Everyone else is still working to catch up. My cooking’s nothing special—don’t be put off.”

Ming Dai’s eyes twinkled. “I’m sure anything you make will be delicious, Auntie. But….”

Her words trailed off, successfully catching the attention of both women.

Sister-in-law Huang urged her on. “But what? Say it, Xiao Ming, we’re no outsiders here.”

Ming Dai shyly touched her green headscarf. “Well, you know, I’m from the capital, and in winter we love drinking lamb soup. I brought quite a lot of seasonings with me this time—maybe you’d like to take a look and see if they’d be useful?”

She unstrapped her basket and took out several small paper packets for them to see.

Both women exclaimed, “Oh my, city folk are particular! So many seasonings just for lamb soup! We only put in some offal, maybe a bit of scallion, ginger, and salt.”

Ming Dai replied with a smile, “These are some Chinese medicinal herbs as well. My father’s a traditional doctor, and I was always sickly as a child, so we often made nourishing soups. I picked up a few things from him.”

Aunt Huang slapped her thigh in delight. “Well, isn’t that a stroke of luck! Xiao Ming, you’ll be the head cook at noon!”

Ming Dai laughed inside, but outwardly she hesitated. “Oh no, I couldn’t—Auntie, you should do it. I haven’t been cooking for very long.”

Sister-in-law Huang, already tempted by Ming Dai’s description of lamb soup, joined in the persuasion. “That’s right! Let us country folk taste what Beijing-style lamb soup is like!”

After some urging, Xiao Ming—the educated youth—agreed, delightedly but pretending to be nervous, and promised to make the best lamb soup.

Aunt Huang encouraged her with a smile, thinking to herself, “It’s all meat—how bad could it possibly taste? There’s no way anything could go wrong!”