Chapter 47: The Twenty-Eighth Day of the Twelfth Lunar Month, All the Children Return Home

For the villagers of the Guandong Mountains, who had been cooped up indoors for over a month to survive the bitter winter, the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month was the most remarkable date on the calendar.

Because on this day, they paid homage to the Mountain God.

As the saying goes, the soil and water of a region shape the people who live there, and the Mountain God served as the shared faith of all the villagers across the Guandong Mountains.

To worship the Mountain God, every household in Qiao Family Village would fire up their stoves and prepare a hearty meal to sum up everything that had happened over the past year while looking forward to the new one.

Even in the present era of severe hardship, this traditional ritual remained unchanged.

Thanks to Zhang Tiejun, every household in Qiao Family Village had been allocated a few pounds of wild boar meat, which left all the villagers overwhelmed with gratitude.

As for Zhang Tiejun’s household, they were living through the most affluent New Year they had ever known.

Today, Mother Zhang, usually the homemaker, was relegated to assisting in the kitchen, while Zhang Xiaohua was strictly in charge of tending the fire.

Although a primitive earthen stove made stoking the fire troublesome, it burned fiercely and provided steady, powerful heat. The reason certain restaurants made such delicious food was precisely because of this robust, fiery energy.

Yet, this kind of purely homemade earthen stove also put a cook’s culinary skills to the ultimate test.

While stoking the fire, Zhang Xiaohua kept her eyes fixed on Zhang Tiejun as he bustled about, because he had claimed he was going to make six dishes for this meal.

You must be joking—looking back three generations in the Zhang family, when had they ever eaten a meal with six dishes? Especially in this day and age, when simply having a coarse cornmeal bun to eat was already considered fortunate.

With Chef Cai’s support, the seasonings in the Zhang family kitchen had gradually become more abundant.

"Let’s start with a few cold dishes," Zhang Tiejun said, picking up a kitchen knife for a rare moment and chopping rhythmically on the cutting board.

Sesame oil, salt, sugar, and two small spoons of soy sauce—when combined, these basic seasonings released an intensely savory aroma.

"Cold-dressed tender cabbage hearts and steamed eggplant mash, freshly picked. Without any excess seasonings, they are enough to let people taste the original fragrance of the vegetables."

Accustomed to listening to the radio broadcast of *A Bite of China*, Zhang Tiejun subconsciously muttered to himself as he cooked.

Zhang Tiejun’s already exquisite culinary skills made these two utterly homely dishes so enticing that they involuntarily caused one's mouth to water.

"Brother, let me have a few bites first," Zhang Xiaohua coaxed, sidling up to Zhang Tiejun like a little cat, pinching off a piece of cabbage heart, popping it into her mouth, and chewing happily. "Brother, what are you making now?"

"I shredded some pickled cabbage to make pickled cabbage fish. A proper northeastern feast can't possibly lack fish, can it?" Zhang Tiejun glanced at the large grass carp swimming in the water vat. "Grass carp has thick meat and few bones, making it quite a decent choice among farm-raised fish. I caught this one in a ditch. Although freshwater fish can't match marine fish for their fresh sweetness and tend to have a heavier muddy odor, this fish is purely wild, so the meat quality is still quite decent."

"Brother, you're amazing! It seems like you know everything," Zhang Xiaohua praised.

"What's so amazing about this?" Zhang Tiejun paused his knife and said with deep meaning, "I’ve already been in touch with Teacher Zhou. After the New Year celebrations are over, you’ll go to school in the city. By then, you’ll know a lot more things, and I’ll be waiting for you to come back and teach me."

Having finished shredding the pickled cabbage, Zhang Tiejun switched to a different knife technique, scoring the cleaned fish skin in a squirrel-pattern crosshatch before coating it with expensive dry starch.

"Stoke the fire a bit higher," Zhang Tiejun instructed. "We need to flash-fry it in oil."

"Ah! Just how much oil is that going to waste?" Zhang Xiaohua winced, feeling a pang of heartache.

Zhang Tiejun, however, remained unbothered. "Being frugal is right most of the time, but today is the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month. We can't afford to mess up now. If we anger the Mountain God, it won't go well."

The big iron wok began to bubble and simmer as the fish stewed. Before sealing the wok with its heavy lid, Zhang Tiejun tossed in a couple of sprigs of mint.

"Braised pork belly!"

Zhang Tiejun pulled out a strip of pork belly he had prepared earlier. Wild boar bristles were stiff and prickly, and before putting the meat over the fire, the skin had to be scorched until it turned charred and black.

Using a kitchen knife, he gently scraped away the charred hair on the surface and expertly sliced the meat into mahjong-sized cubes.

"Xiaohua, lower the heat a bit," Zhang Tiejun instructed. "Wild boar meat is tough. If the fire is too high, it'll burn easily; if it's too low, it won't cook through."

The final vegetable dish was also the one that best demonstrated a cook's true craftsmanship: green peppers stir-fried with dried bean curd sheets.

"Dinner is served! Tomato and egg drop soup!"

When Zhang Tiejun brought the soup to the table, both Mother Zhang and Zhang Xiaohua dropped their jaws in astonishment.

Such soup might not even be glanced at during prosperous times, but a rich, thick soup made at a time like this was both appetizing and heartwarming.

Zhang Xiaohua’s eyes darted up and down across the table, waiting only for her mother’s nod and her older brother’s permission.

"Dig in."

Zhang Xiaohua immediately picked up a piece of the pickled cabbage fish and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes lit up instantly. "Brother, this fish is simply too delicious! Not only does it taste wonderful, but it has a great texture when chewed, and best of all, there's a faint sweetness to it."

Mother Zhang tasted a piece as well, nodding repeatedly and praising it as an exceptionally good fish.

Though grass carp had few bones, it typically carried a heavy muddy taste. For Zhang Tiejun to handle it so skillfully was truly impressive.

Every housewife in the Guandong Mountains possessed her own signature trick when it came to cooking, and stewing fish was one of their most distinctive specialties. Every single fish could be prepared in hundreds of different ways, yet each method yielded a completely unique flavor.

The six dishes proved utterly inadequate for the three of them. The meal lasted for about half an hour before drawing to a close, leaving Zhang Xiaohua’s belly rounded out like a little mound.

Zhang Tiejun brewed a pot of green tea in an iron kettle, which finally brought his busy day to a close.

Sitting in a reclining chair in the small courtyard, soaking in the rare afternoon sunshine and draped in a thick overcoat, Zhang Tiejun gazed blankly at the snowman Zhang Xiaohua had built not far away. Lost in his trance, he drifted off into a hazy sleep.

With a full stomach, a harmonious family, and clean, crisp air, Zhang Tiejun was reminded of an old saying: "If no idle worries dwell in your mind, then every season is a good season in life."

Just like that, Zhang Tiejun slept straight through until dusk. The sun hung slanting over the treetops, and the sound of footsteps snapped him awake.

When Zhang Tiejun opened his eyes, a young boy dressed in ragged yet clean clothes appeared before him.

Looking no more than a year or two old, the little boy was nervously twisting his fingers together in deep unease, led along by a frail, emaciated woman.

Calling her emaciated was putting it politely; she was practically skin and bones. The woman’s lips were purplish and the skin around her eyes bruised black—clear signs of utter exhaustion from a long and arduous journey.

Thinking it was some impoverished beggar seeking food, Zhang Tiejun was just about to go inside to fetch some leftovers when the woman spoke in a faint voice:

"Tiejun..."

Though her voice was gossamer-thin and broken with pauses, Zhang Tiejun caught those two words with absolute clarity.

For so long, apart from his mother, there was only one person who had ever addressed him by that name.

"Older Sister!"

Zhang Tiejun instantly cried out in response.

The woman nodded, squeezing out a meager, forced smile. "We're home... My child, we're finally home."

With that, darkness clouded the woman's eyes, and she collapsed straight to the ground.