Chapter 70: Glutinous Rice Cakes

Chapter 70: Ci Ba (Glutinous Rice Cakes)

The joyful Zhang Qiaohua took Lin Shu and visited almost every shop on the street. In her good mood, everything seemed pleasant, even the burly, shirtless blacksmith at the corner forge appeared quite handsome to her.

"We still use a pottery pot at home. Next time we come to market, I’ll swap it for a big iron wok!"

Lin Shu said, "Third Aunt, if you want to buy one, why wait? The sooner you buy it, the sooner you can use it. Cooking with an iron wok is much more convenient."

Zhang Qiaohua fell silent.

She had only spoken impulsively; an iron wok was expensive, and she’d rather save the money for Yu Shu’s education.

Seeing her reaction, Lin Shu hesitated and asked, "Third Aunt, how much does a wok cost?"

She had only overheard from her mother that iron woks were costly. Her family could afford one only because Zhou Ye had brought chunks of iron with him when he fled the famine. Those lumps couldn’t be eaten and were heavy, but he carried them all the way, ensuring no one else would grab them, and kept them along with himself.

Perhaps feeling that her parents treated him well, Zhou Ye later went to town to sell goods from the mountains and had a wok custom-made with those iron chunks, telling her mother it only cost a small labor fee.

Lin Shu didn’t know the exact price of a wok, but she knew iron was expensive these days, so she guessed it would cost around three to four hundred cash. If it were cheap, everyone in Tianshui Village wouldn’t still be using pottery pots.

Just as she thought this, her third aunt said, "To forge an iron wok, it’ll cost at least one string of cash."

Lin Shu’s eyes widened in shock.

How much? You’re kidding!

"I asked a long time ago," Zhang Qiaohua counted on her fingers. "I don’t know about other places, but here in Jingxi Town, raw iron alone costs 150 cash per jin. A wok needs at least three to four jin, and you have to account for waste, so it’s more like four to five jin of raw iron. Then you have to pay the blacksmith’s labor fee, which is about 30% of the iron cost. If you run into a shady blacksmith, they’ll even charge you for the firewood cost. A Shu, do the math—doesn’t that come to a full string of cash?"

Lin Shu: ...

An iron wok costing nearly one string of cash—how could ordinary folks afford that? In impoverished households, such a wok could be passed down as a family heirloom!

Lin Shu didn’t dare suggest her third aunt buy an iron wok anymore. What difference was there between that and urging someone to blow money on something extravagant?

After walking around for so long, Lin Shu felt thirsty and sweaty. The bowl of loose tea she’d drunk earlier had long worn off, and the bamboo cup of mountain spring water she brought was already empty. Her eyes drifted toward the drink stands by the street.

After several trips to town, Lin Shu had mostly memorized what each shop sold.

The small town had no dedicated drink shops, but there were plenty of roadside stalls selling beverages—tea, rice wine, and various soups.

Tea shops sold loose and brick tea, but roadside stalls mostly offered herbal or medicinal teas.

As for alcohol, most was rice wine, locally known as fermented glutinous rice drink.

There was a wider variety of soups. These were also called cool soups or brewed drinks, with mung bean soup being the most common and inexpensive. However, spiced herbal soups, made by boiling spices like perilla, bamboo leaves, and mint in water and letting it steep sealed for some time before drinking, were much more expensive, especially perilla drink.

Then there were floral soups, brewed from petals like osmanthus and plum blossoms, with a delicate fragrance favored by scholars and poets.

After walking around, Lin Shu only saw one stall selling spiced herbal soups.

And this very stall sold perilla drink!

The perilla drink brewed by the vendor didn’t look authentic but was priced high at 15 cash per bowl.

She knew perilla drink was especially famous in the capital. Her father and brother back at the marquis’s estate particularly favored it. Authentic perilla drink was brewed with sugar and honey, then iced, selling for as much as 50 cash per bowl!

Zhang Qiaohua, noticing her staring at the drinks, tugged her arm to leave. "That’s spiced herbal soup—very expensive. Only well-off townies buy it."

Lin Shu smiled. "Third Aunt, I’m just looking, not buying. Do I look like someone who throws money around?"

Zhang Qiaohua thought: You might not spend recklessly, but you look like you would. Can’t you see the vendor checking us out?

In the end, the two found a stall selling mung bean soup and each had a bowl.

The cooled mung bean soup was refreshing and cooling in the heat. Sipping slowly, they could taste a hint of sweetness, indicating a small amount of sugar had been added.

A bowl cost only two cash—cheap and good.

Since the bowls couldn’t be taken away, Lin Shu thought for a moment and asked the vendor for another bowl, pouring the soup into her empty bamboo cup.

"A Shu, what are you…"

Lin Shu said, "A Ye’s bamboo cup must be empty too. I’ll bring him a bowl of mung bean soup."

Zhang Qiaohua smiled meaningfully. "A Shu is really thoughtful. But A Ye is pretty great too. Without him, how could I have enjoyed such leisure today?"

Lin Shu coughed lightly and asked, "Third Aunt, would you like to bring a bowl back for Cousin Yu Shu?"

Zhang Qiaohua’s attention shifted immediately. "As his mother, I’ve had a bowl—how could I forget him? I’ll bring one back! Wait, I didn’t bring a bamboo cup. How can I take it back?... Never mind, Yu Shu is outta luck. He’ll have to drink the water I brought. I have plenty—he won’t go thirsty. If you hadn’t rushed me earlier, Third Aunt wouldn’t be empty-handed!"

Lin Shu nodded. "Exactly, it’s my fault for rushing to the tea shop to listen to storytelling and making you hurry with me."

Zhang Qiaohua laughed.

After their leisurely stroll, they had no idea how much time had passed, but the sun had shifted westward. Lin Shu estimated it was around mid-afternoon.

When they returned to the shoe stall at the town entrance, Lin Shu looked over and saw that Cousin Yu Shu was gone, leaving only Zhou Ye watching the stall.

Surprisingly, a young woman and an older woman were at the stall buying shoes. More precisely, the older woman was inquiring about prices while the young woman occasionally stole glances at the tall, sturdy man who was sitting on the ground.

Judging by their attire, they were villagers from a nearby village here for the market.

The middle-aged woman asked questions cheerfully, while Zhou Ye answered concisely—not rude, but not overly friendly either.

Before Lin Shu could say anything, Zhang Qiaohua was already on alert and hurriedly pulled her toward the stall.

"A Ye, thank you for holding down the fort for so long. But A Shu and I weren’t just enjoying ourselves—look, A Shu remembered how hard you’ve been working and brought you a bowl of mung bean soup in her bamboo cup!"

After saying this, Zhang Qiaohua gently pushed Lin Shu forward.

Lin Shu: ...

Really, Third Aunt, didn’t you see the woman was about to pay? You’re going to lose a customer.

Sure enough, the previously cheerful woman’s smile faded as her eyes swept over Lin Shu, and the young woman with her looked annoyed.

"I just remembered we have two pairs of straw sandals at home. We won’t buy any today," the woman said hastily before leaving with the young woman.

Lin Shu ignored the departing pair and handed the bamboo cup to Zhou Ye. "Here, I brought this for you. It has a bit of sugar—drink slowly, and you’ll taste the sweetness."

Though Lin Shu asked nothing and her expression remained neutral, Zhou Ye, meeting Zhang Qiaohua’s slightly accusatory gaze as if he’d done something wrong, felt he should explain.

He moistened his chapped lips, took the bamboo cup from Lin Shu, poured the mung bean soup into his own bamboo cup, drank a few large gulps, then sipped slowly. There was indeed a faint sweetness, which made him feel good.

Zhou Ye suddenly looked at Lin Shu and explained, "Those two were from Dafu Village. They asked for directions, who wove the straw sandals, and which village I’m from. I answered what I could and didn’t say much else."

Lin Shu smiled at him. "Nobody asked about that! I noticed the men’s straw sandals are gone, and one pair of women’s shoes is missing. Did you sell them?"

Zhou Ye felt inexplicably lighter in mood; he acknowledged with a hum, "A vendor was packing up to leave the city when I noticed his straw sandals were worn out, so I asked if he wanted to buy a pair. He bought the large ones. I casually mentioned that his wife at home would surely be pleased he sold out his goods, and after hesitating a moment, he also bought a pair of closed-toe straw sandals."

After saying this, Zhou Ye handed the seventy copper coins earned from selling the straw sandals to Zhang Qiaohua.

Zhang Qiaohua smiled and pushed seven copper coins back toward him. "We left in such a hurry earlier that I didn’t bring a single coin. The money for tea and the mung bean tonic was all covered by A Shu—seven coins in total. You keep it for her."

Lin Shu quickly interjected, "Aunt Third, you’re being too formal. A bowl of plain tea and a bowl of mung bean tonic are something I can afford to treat you to."

But Zhang Qiaohua insisted, "It's not proper for juniors to treat their elders. Next time, when I have money, I’ll treat you. Just take this money. If I didn’t know you’d refuse anything more, given how you brought me luck today, Aunt Third would definitely give you a red envelope!"

Seeing her insistence, Lin Shu had no choice but to drop the matter.

Zhou Ye finally accepted the money, though he frowned slightly and asked, "A Shu, didn’t you and Aunt Third order any snacks at the teahouse?"

"I only brought some spare change. The snacks at that teahouse are ridiculously expensive—not worth it. Besides, I wasn’t hungry. By the way, A Ye, do you want to know what the storyteller said?"

Zhou Ye looked at her for a moment before replying, "Not particularly." Then he handed the shoe stall back to Aunt Third. "Aunt Third, I asked Yu Shu to find a shady spot to read. I’ll go call him back."

Zhang Qiaohua felt a wave of gratitude. "I thought that boy had gone to the outhouse. I hadn’t expected… A Ye, Aunt Third will remember your kindness!"

Zhou Ye didn’t think much of it. "Minding the stall is no trouble. It doesn’t require two people anyway."

After he left, Zhang Qiaohua sighed with emotion. "That A Ye is truly excellent, A Shu. Your good fortune is yet to come!"

Lin Shu snorted. "Didn’t you say earlier that I was your lucky star? Since I’m already a lucky star, why would I need someone else to give me good fortune?"

Zhang Qiaohua chuckled at this. "You and A Ye are both lucky stars!"

Zhou Ye returned quickly, not only bringing Lin Yushu back but also carrying an oil-paper package and two strings of steamed buns. They were strung because three steamed buns were threaded onto each bamboo stick, which he held in his hand.

Lin Yushu followed behind him, a book in one hand and two steamed buns clutched in the other.

Zhou Ye handed one string of steamed buns to Zhang Qiaohua. "I bought some steamed buns on the way back, Aunt Third. Here, have two."

Lin Yushu said with a mix of amusement and exasperation, "Mother, Brother A Ye insisted on giving me these two."

Zhang Qiaohua was annoyed with herself for being a step too slow. She had originally planned to take some money and sneak out to buy snacks once Lin Yushu returned. Who would have thought A Ye, as a junior, would beat her to it?

She hurriedly declined, "Forcing those two steamed buns on Yu Shu is one thing, but I won’t take any. Aunt Third brought plenty of provisions—more than enough."

Only then did Zhou Ye take back the steamed buns, explaining, "A Shu and I had an early breakfast." Then he handed an oil-paper package to Lin Shu. "Bought two pieces of ci ba (sticky rice cakes). Have these to fill your stomach. If it’s not enough, I still have steamed buns here."

Lin Shu blinked, only then realizing she had long been empty-stomached. It was just that in her past life, she had grown accustomed to the feeling of hunger, so it hadn’t felt unbearable.

Unwrapping the oil paper revealed two golden-brown, fried ci ba, sprinkled with granulated sugar and sesame seeds. Just the sight of them was enough to whet the appetite.

Lin Shu immediately, her eyes curved into smiles. Without asking how much Zhou Ye had spent, she picked up one piece and began eating.

The outside was crispy, the inside soft and glutinous—delicious!

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Author’s Note: The method for preparing the aromatic medicinal soup is sourced from the internet.

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