Chapter 25: Roller Coaster! The Best!

The leftover core of Chinese cabbage from last night was made into a small dish of pickled vegetables by Mingdai. She dug out enough cornmeal for two, added an equal portion of wheat flour, kneaded it, and set it to ferment. Then she washed two large potatoes, shredded them, rinsed off the excess starch, and prepared the seasonings.

Just as she lit the fire, Zhou Sinian came in carrying two damp shoes. He glanced at the cutting board loaded with ingredients and looked very satisfied.

“Go put your shoes on the stack of damp firewood to dry, then wash the basin and bring it in.”

Obediently, Zhou Sinian went out. Mingdai poured oil into the wok. Once it was hot, she took out a small bowl, put in a handful of flour, and ladled the hot oil over it, stirring until it was evenly mixed. The oil paste was ready.

She pinched off a piece of the fermented dough, rolled and flattened it, placed a dollop of oil paste inside, reformed it into a ball, flattened it again, and stretched it into a tongue shape before laying it in the oil.

She fitted five of these in the pan, added a handful of dry kindling, and the little tongue-shaped cakes began to puff up. The sweet, fragrant aroma of sugar and oil drew Zhou Sinian back in.

“Sit. If I tell you to add firewood, you add firewood.”

She nudged a wooden stool over for him to sit and watch the flames at the mouth of the stove while she lit the second burner. When the pan was hot, she poured in more oil, then added slices of garlic and dried chili. The air filled with a mouthwatering, toasty scent.

She flipped the pancakes in the wok, then tossed in the drained potato shreds with a satisfying sizzle. In the front courtyard, the educated youths stared gloomily at their bowls of thin gruel, nearly moved to tears.

Mingdai worked quickly, and with two stoves going, it wasn’t long before a basketful of fried cakes and a large plate of shredded potatoes were ready.

She took out two bowls, each poured with some malted milk powder, and added hot water. Zhou Sinian promptly left the stove, his eyes fixed on the bowls on the counter.

“Drink, but be careful—it’s hot.”

Only after being given permission did Zhou Sinian reach out, lift the bowl, and take a tentative sip. Little stars seemed to light up in his eyes!

The liquid was scalding, but it didn’t stop him from slurping it down enthusiastically.

Mingdai nodded in satisfaction. Although he was addled, his manners were still intact—he really wasn’t so hard to teach.

She took a sip herself. It was a bit sweet, but she had to admit that food in these times was truly honest—the flavor was rich and fragrant.

Picking up a cake, she opened a small slit at the end to reveal the hollow center, stuffed in a chopstick-full of potato shreds and some pickled cabbage, and took a bite. The cake was soft and fluffy, the potatoes savory, and the cabbage crisp and refreshing.

Oh my, it was delicious!

She had tasted many fine things in her past life, but none seemed as good as this. Perhaps this body, never having eaten anything so tasty, was newly awakened to such flavors. In any case, she was thoroughly satisfied!

Zhou Sinian watched for a while, put down his bowl, picked up a cake, and imitated her by poking a slit in it. The first time, he used too much force and knocked off the entire end. He frowned, studied it, then simply tore off the top and ate it, revealing the hollow center. Just like Mingdai, he filled it with vegetables.

Yesterday he’d still been clumsy with chopsticks, but today he was already quite adept.

He took a huge bite, and little stars in his eyes began to spin.

Before long, he had polished off seven or eight cakes.

Mingdai watched his quick, yet not uncouth, way of eating and thought they really ought to buy a table. Eating standing up was bad for the stomach.

In the end, Mingdai ate two cakes and a bowl of malted milk. Zhou Sinian ate ten—plus a bowl of malted milk.

Impossible to feed him, truly impossible!

She shooed the disgruntled Zhou Sinian off to wash the pots and bowls. Mingdai stuffed the remaining cakes with vegetables, wrapped them in oiled paper, and put them in her backpack, along with some malted milk for later.

As Zhou Sinian washed up, he kept eyeing the backpack, itching to peek inside.

Mingdai ignored him. She locked her room, packed up their utensils, let the fire in the stove go out, slung her satchel over her shoulder, picked up the hot water flask, and headed out.

Zhou Sinian trailed after her, never taking his eyes off the backpack.

“Wheel the cart out. We’re going up the mountain to gather firewood again. I’ll give you some more cakes for lunch.”

Only then did Zhou Sinian brighten up. Without needing instructions, he loaded the axe, rope, and other tools onto the cart.

Mingdai opened the door to let the cart out, locked it carefully, and gave the lock a tug—very secure.

She noticed Zhou Sinian’s cart-pulling posture was textbook-perfect. She negotiated with him, “How about you pull me along? At noon, I’ll give you more of that sweet porridge.”

Zhou Sinian considered, then nodded. Mingdai grinned and climbed onto the cart, hugging the hot water flask. “Go slow. If you go too fast, you’ll break the flask and there’ll be no sweet porridge at lunchtime.”

Zhou Sinian immediately checked his urge to speed up and pulled the cart along at his normal walking pace.

“Look! The lunatic is pulling the cart!”

“His red headscarf looks pretty good.”

“Pretty? Why don’t you go ask for it?”

“I wouldn’t dare—I’m afraid I’d get a beating!”

“Hahaha!”

With his red headscarf, Zhou Sinian pulling the cart drew everyone’s attention, so for the moment, no one commented on Mingdai riding in the back.

At the foot of the mountain, they left the cart below as usual.

This time, they ventured deeper. At this altitude, few villagers bothered to come for firewood anymore.

Mingdai directed the madman to cut only dead or fallen trees, avoiding any live ones—getting caught chopping fresh wood would bring a public denunciation.

Dead trees were easier to chop anyway. By noon, they’d finished what had taken all day yesterday.

Mostly it was Zhou Sinian’s effort—Mingdai was nearly useless, and all the wood today was chopped by him.

Looking at the neat piles of timber, Mingdai couldn’t help but marvel—he was a real workhorse, truly a treasure she’d found!

At noon, Zhou Sinian, as if he had a clock inside him, immediately climbed down from the tree, tossed aside his axe, and gazed longingly at Mingdai.

Startled as she was gathering leaves into a burlap sack, Mingdai glanced at her watch—midday, right on the dot.

She cast a look of admiration at Zhou Sinian, dropped her sack, washed her hands with water from the flask, and found a tree stump to use as a table. She spread a white cloth and laid out lunch.

Wrapped in oiled paper were a dozen or so cakes, each stuffed with vegetables.

Zhou Sinian’s eyes lit up, but he didn’t dare reach out.

“Go ahead,” said Mingdai.

He lunged like a puppy, grabbing a cake in each hand, juices running down his chin.

Mingdai poured each of them a mug of malted milk.

Zhou Sinian, eating his fried cakes and drinking the malted milk, was so happy his eyebrows seemed to dance.

Mingdai was content, too. Ever since the old folks at home had passed away, it had been a long time since she’d shared a meal with anyone.

Having someone to eat with was actually quite nice.

Soon, both of them had finished their cakes.

This time, Zhou Sinian was full. Looking at his greasy hands, he wanted to lick them but, for some reason, held back.

Mingdai ignored him and packed everything away. She stashed the backpack and hot water flask in a tree hollow, and after a short rest, they began loading the firewood.

Again, Zhou Sinian did the heavy lifting, while Mingdai helped with odds and ends. The cart couldn’t hold it all, so Mingdai decided to deliver a load first.

“Zhou Sinian, will you pull the cart home? I’ll give you some candy.”

She took out two White Rabbit milk candies to bargain with him.

Zhou Sinian sniffed, pulled out the candy wrappers from his pocket, compared them to the ones in Mingdai’s hand, and, satisfied, nodded.

Mingdai smiled, unwrapped one and popped it into his mouth, putting the other in his pocket.

Zhou Sinian took the wrapper, added it to his small collection, folded them together, and tucked them away with a contented pat before heading off to pull the cart.

Mingdai stopped him, climbed into her reserved spot, settled in, and, once sure she wouldn’t fall off, patted his shoulder.

“Let’s go, boy!”

Soon, the shrieks of the young educated youth echoed once more along the mountain path.

This time, though, the cries were filled with excitement.

A roller coaster ride—what a thrill!