Ye Zheng wasn't a biologist. He'd seen that the crayfish looked similar and assumed they were the same sort of creature. But what if they weren't? What if these were a species unique to the Great Qi Dynasty, and were poisonous?
He realized he'd been careless. The original owner had never eaten them, after all.
“They're not poisonous,” Yun Qing said thoughtfully. “It's just that they smell strongly of mud and don't taste good. If you're craving meat, I'll go up the mountain this evening to see whether we've caught anything in the snares. Let's forget about eating these.”
“You gave me a fright!” Ye Zheng patted his chest and shot Yun Qing a reproachful look. “If they're not poisonous, that's fine. Don't worry. If they're not poisonous, we can eat them.”
After all, crayfish hadn't been a popular food for very long in his former world. In the beginning, they had been everywhere there was water, and no one had eaten them either. People said they smelled muddy and tasted awful. But cooked the right way, crayfish became an exquisite delicacy that captivated countless taste buds.
Ye Zheng's assurances weren't convincing, but as always, Yun Qing wouldn't go against his wishes over such a small thing. He'd pestered his own mother to cook them once as a child and given up after one taste. He supposed Ye Zheng would abandon the idea after trying them for himself, too.
Entering the kitchen, Ye Zheng began boasting as he chattered away. “Just you wait. If it doesn't taste good, you can smack me! The real danger is that you'll be unable to stop eating and there won't be any left by the time Dad and Mom come home.”
Yun Qing thought that feeding these things to his parents would be going too far. He quickly explained, “Mom and Dad took food with them at noon. They won't be coming home for lunch. We'll eat here by ourselves.”
“That's fine. Once we've eaten, we'll bring them a portion. It's so hot today—just eating dry rations must be miserable.”
Yun Qing: “…”
Compared with eating crayfish, he thought dry rations sounded perfectly pleasant. He was certain his parents would agree.
Yun Qing had already taken his place behind the stove to tend the fire. Ye Zheng rummaged around the kitchen for other ingredients. He found half a lotus root and some perilla leaves. Among the cooking oil, salt, sauces, and vinegar, he could find only oil and salt, plus a small piece of smoked meat.
“Do you have any chili peppers?”
He couldn't find any no matter how hard he looked, so he asked Yun Qing.
“What are chili peppers?” Yun Qing had never heard of them.
Ye Zheng described them. “They're red, and when you put them in your mouth, they taste hot and tingly. People who like them love them, but people who don't can't stand them at all.”
“Do you mean dogwood berries?” Yun Qing got up and took down a hanging basket from the ceiling beam. Inside was a small jar of spice berries, but what delighted Ye Zheng even more was the half-piece of ginger in the basket!
Chili peppers had not yet become a common household ingredient in this era. The villagers used spice berries from the dogwood family to add heat to their food, while ginger was kept in every home. When someone had a headache or fever, they sliced and crushed a piece of it to boil in water. It was used more as medicine than seasoning.
“Do you have scallions?” Ye Zheng remembered that those were native to the region.
They did! A few grew in the vegetable patch behind the courtyard, and Yun Qing went out and picked a small handful for him.
“How about garlic?” Ye Zheng's eyes shone expectantly again.
This time, Yun Qing looked a little helpless. Clearly they didn't have garlic.
How could that be? Ye Zheng remembered that garlic had been introduced a very long time ago, too.
But if he couldn't find any now, he couldn't conjure it out of thin air. To be fair, he was already grateful to have ginger, spice berries, and scallions. If this venture worked, he could always find a way to get the other seasonings later.
Finally, Ye Zheng asked whether they had any wine or spirits.
He hadn't even asked for cooking wine, since there certainly wouldn't be any. The strong grain liquor or rice wine that local men commonly drank would be enough.
Yun Qing brought him a little earthenware jar of Father Yun's liquor.
That was nearly everything. The wok was hot now, so Ye Zheng put in a spoonful of oil. It obviously wasn't vegetable oil, but a mixture of animal fats, probably from more than one kind of animal.
He'd guessed correctly. Because Yun Qing often hunted in the mountains, the family frequently had animal fat on hand. But they couldn't choose what they caught, so whenever Madam Luo rendered lard, chicken fat, duck fat, or even fat from a wild deer, she poured it into the same oil jar. The Yun family had enough cooking fat to use, but the mixture had a strong, peculiar flavor. They all thought rapeseed oil tasted better. Still, these were rural conditions, and having any cooking oil was already fortunate; they couldn't be choosy.
Ye Zheng smashed the ginger and tossed it into the hot fat, added a small handful of spice berries, then flattened and chopped the white sections of the scallions and threw those in to fry until fragrant.
As he worked, an enticing aroma of spices sizzling in oil burst through the kitchen.
Yun Qing had thought Ye Zheng was merely experimenting at random. Yet his questions had clearly been the sort that someone familiar with cooking would ask, and now there was this wonderful aroma. A strange thought occurred to him. Could Ye Zheng really make these awful crayfish taste good?
The fragrance rising from the wok was even richer than Ye Zheng had expected. Perhaps the unusual fat was responsible. The flavors of several different animal fats combined and reacted with the seasonings, producing a far more tempting aroma than ordinary oil.
When the fragrance peaked, Ye Zheng tipped the cleaned crayfish into the wok. The hot oil and spices struck the river creatures with a fierce sizzle, and the delicious smell of stir-fried freshwater seafood spread throughout the kitchen.
He tossed them skillfully with an iron ladle, ensuring that the hot oil seared every shell. The dark blue-black crayfish rapidly turned red in the heat, which also broke down some of their unpleasant flavors. After stir-frying them until every shell was firm and bright red, he swiftly splashed in some liquor and added a ladle of water. As the alcohol simmered and evaporated, it carried away the remaining muddy smell. Perilla leaves were also excellent for removing fishy odors. If they could be used to cook even notoriously muddy-tasting carp, how much more effective would they be on crayfish that had already been cleaned and fried?
After simmering for a while, he judged that the crayfish were nearly cooked. He seasoned the wok with some salt, then instructed Yun Qing to build up the fire and reduce the sauce!
The whole process proceeded in such a smooth, orderly fashion that Yun Qing gradually stopped watching to make sure Ye Zheng didn't hurt himself. Instead, he followed every instruction: low heat when told to lower it, high heat when told to raise it. He was astonishingly obedient.
There was a reason for that. Everyone had strengths and weaknesses. Yun Qing was skilled at many things, but his weakest skill was cooking. Madam Luo had started teaching him when he was ten, yet to this day the best that could be said for his food was that it was just about edible. Even Father Yun and Mother Yun, who weren't picky eaters, preferred not to eat meals Yun Qing had cooked if they could avoid it. That said everything about his abilities.
Though Yun Qing couldn't cook well, he was excellent at tending the fire. Whether the stove required a gentle flame, a roaring blaze, or a slow simmer, he could control it precisely. So when he helped in the kitchen, he mainly tended the fire for Madam Luo or kneaded dough. He had an instinctive talent for tasks that required strength and handled them wonderfully.
Yun Qing might not know how to cook, but he respected people who did. Ye Zheng had shown more than enough skill, so Yun Qing followed his lead.
Thus, although Ye Zheng wasn't accustomed to the ancient earthen stove, he didn't find cooking the meal particularly inconvenient.
When the sauce had thickened sufficiently, Ye Zheng told Yun Qing to put out the fire. He scattered a handful of chopped scallions into the wok, releasing a fresh burst of rich seafood fragrance mingled with the sharp sweetness of onion greens.
After taking two deep breaths, Ye Zheng leaned against the stove and rubbed his arms. That burst of improvisation had cost him a great deal of strength. He hadn't noticed while he worked, but now that he'd relaxed, his arms were aching.
Yun Qing extinguished the fire and came out from behind the stove. He massaged Ye Zheng's arms a few times and told him to go outside for some water while he tidied up.
Ye Zheng really was exhausted. Without arguing, he obediently left the kitchen, washed his hands in cool water, and sat at the stone table in the courtyard waiting for Yun Qing.
A short while later, Yun Qing emerged carrying a huge earthenware bowl, almost the size of a washbasin and heaped with fragrant crayfish. In his other hand he carried the leftover steamed buns from breakfast and a bowl of mixed-grain soup.
Even carrying all that, he walked with easy composure, not a crease appearing between his brows. Clearly the weight meant nothing to him. Through his thin outer shirt, Ye Zheng could imagine the muscles in his arms swelling: long, defined muscles that combined power with beauty.
After setting the food on the table, Yun Qing washed his hands. By the time he sat down again, Ye Zheng had already served a bowl of mixed-grain soup for each of them.
Now came the most important part: eating!
Yun Qing didn't ask whether the crayfish would taste good. Ye Zheng's professional manner in the kitchen had already won him over, and judging by the aroma alone, there was no way they could taste bad.
And even if the fragrance turned out to be deceptive, even if the food was disgusting, Yun Qing still wanted to take the first bite himself, to “test for poison” on behalf of his delicate little husband.
Under Ye Zheng's expectant gaze, Yun Qing picked up a “crayfish” with his chopsticks, paused, then placed it in his mouth.
“How is it? Does it taste all right?”
Yun Qing moved his mouth but didn't say anything.
“It's not good? That shouldn't be possible.”
Yun Qing shook his head. It wasn't that it tasted bad.
Rather, calling it good didn't begin to describe it.
The moment the crayfish entered his mouth, the explosion of fresh, salty, spicy fragrance had completely conquered him!
Yun Qing had never tasted anything so unusual and delicious. It was as though every wonderful dish he'd ever eaten in his entire life, added together, couldn't equal half the deliciousness filling his mouth right now!
From the delighted expression on Yun Qing's face, Ye Zheng already knew the answer.
He raised his eyebrows smugly, picked up a crayfish himself, and popped it into his mouth.
Its freshness and fragrance were his first impressions. Although it lacked the rich, complex seasonings of the spicy crayfish he'd eaten in his previous life, the native crayfish itself had finer, firmer meat. One minor flaw was that the spice berries lent a pungent sharpness rather than the clean heat of chilies, while the flavor of perilla differed from green peppers, onions, and Sichuan peppercorns. But given their limited ingredients, achieving this result was already a delightful surprise.
He could have named plenty of shortcomings if he insisted, but this was still the most delicious food he'd tasted since entering this body. Ye Zheng had no complaints and ate mouthful after mouthful with relish.
Yun Qing was the same. The crayfish had a magical flavor that made you want another as soon as you finished one. It was impossible to stop.
And really, how could it be otherwise? Forget Yun Qing, who had never tasted such fine food in the Great Qi Dynasty. Even in the abundance of modern society, crayfish were irresistible!
