Chapter One Hundred and One: Noodles with Bean Paste

Because he still had to go pick Xiaoyu up when she got off work, Chen Liang simply lathered up quickly under the shower, rinsed off, and came out.

He changed his clothes, called out to Little Turtle, and went outside to smoke.

Little Turtle, for his part, was equally straightforward: he stopped selling tickets altogether, locked the door, and walked out. “That’s it, that’s it, no more selling.”

“Hey! You little punk, how can you do that? I just got in line!” The speaker was an old woman, and Little Turtle did not dare snap back too hard.

“Then wait until I go out to use the toilet, all right? If heaven and earth can be controlled, who’s going to control me taking a dump or farting?” With that, Little Turtle shoved his way through the crowd and went out.

As soon as he got outside, he saw Chen Liang leaning against the wall. He hurried over at once. “Brother Liang, those two sonsofbitches, Hu Dabiao and his crew, came by again yesterday to steal coal. I secretly followed them, and found out they were selling it to Zhang the Pockmarked’s people.”

“Really? Good. Then this is the perfect chance to wipe them all out together, those ghosts and goblins.”

Zhang the Pockmarked and Hu Dabiao were cut from the same cloth. Swindling, cheating, and stealing - there was no filthy thing they would not dare to do.

“Little Turtle, next time you find Hu Dabiao and the rest stealing coal, come straight to the Red Star Rolling Mill to find me. Damn it, we’ll catch them red-handed and send each one of them to meet the devil.”

“Got it, Brother Liang. Just leave it to me. I’ll make sure this is handled properly!”

After settling it with Little Turtle, the two of them chatted idly for a while. When the cigarette was finished, Little Turtle looked as happy as if he had just eaten two pounds of honeyed shit. He hurried back to sell tickets, and his attitude toward customers even improved quite a bit.

At the appointed time, Chen Liang went to pick Xiaoyu up from work. The young couple lived their days like a pair of immortals, enviable beyond measure.

Xiaoyu sat leisurely on the back seat of the bicycle, her arms wrapped around Chen Liang’s waist, resting her little face lightly against his back. Her long legs swung back and forth unconsciously.

After April came to the old capital, the days slowly began to lengthen. In winter, by the time work ended it would already be dark, but now the sunset lingered on the horizon like an unending blaze, hanging high in the sky.

The two of them rode along the street like a perfect jade boy and jade maiden. Every man who saw Xiaoyu drooled, and every woman who saw Chen Liang instinctively clenched her legs.

By the time they got home, Chen Liang drew in a delighted breath and turned to Xiaoyu. “Wife, hurry up. Mom’s made soybean paste noodles!”

People in Beijing, whether now or in later generations, loved those noodles with a passion that no other food could ever replace.

It was no exaggeration to say that in later years, if one family in an apartment building got greedy and made soybean paste noodles, once the smell drifted out, anyone who caught a whiff would curse, “Which bastard is eating soybean paste noodles without closing the window?”

And after cursing, they themselves would have to make a bowl of noodles even more fragrant than that house’s. Otherwise, if they ate anything else, they would be tormented all night and unable to sleep.

Chen Liang had loved his mother’s soybean paste noodles since childhood. That aroma had sunk deep into his bones; one whiff of it and he knew for certain he could not be mistaken.

In Chen Liang’s eyes, Chen Mother’s soybean paste noodles were also simply amazing. One bite, and the whole mouth was filled with the taste of home.

When they got back, they saw that Chen Mother had already soaked yellow soybeans in plain water, then blanched them in boiling water and fished them out.

She then blanched the soybean sprouts, while washing and cutting pork belly and fresh mushrooms into small dice about half a centimeter square. Carrots, white radish, and cucumber were peeled and shredded. Celery and toon shoots were washed and cut into short sections.

She heated oil in a wok, added scallion sections, minced ginger, and minced garlic, and stir-fried until fragrant. Then she added the diced pork belly and cooked over medium heat, stirring until the fat rendered out. After that she poured in a little cooking wine to remove the smell, added some soy sauce and stir-fried evenly, and finally scooped the meat out.

She left the rendered lard in the wok. In a bowl, she mixed sweet bean paste and dry yellow bean paste until smooth, poured it into the wok, and stir-fried over medium heat until the sauce aroma came out. Then she added the diced pork belly, diced mushrooms, and minced ginger, lowered the heat, and simmered slowly for about ten minutes until the sauce and the meat had fused together completely. Only then was it delicious. During this time, it had to be stirred constantly, and if it seemed dry, a little water was added.

By then the liquid had reduced. She took it off the heat and added minced scallion whites at the end, because adding them earlier would burn them. Using the residual heat, she steamed the scallion whites through, and the fried sauce was done.

Separately, she boiled the noodles until done. Served alongside the fried sauce and the vegetable toppings, they only needed to be mixed together before eating.

Chen Liang helped Chen Mother bring everything to the table. Once the whole family was assembled, he first mixed a bowl for Xiaoyu, then made himself a great enamel basin full. With the garlic pickled on the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month that Chen Mother had made, one bite of garlic, one bite of noodles - the flavor was beyond words.

After they finished the noodles, Chen Liang looked as if he had seen a ghost when Chen Dashan calmly sat down in a chair and, right in front of Chen Mother, lit a cigarette.

You have to understand that Chen Mother had always hated people smoking in front of her. She could not control outsiders, but no one in the family had ever dared smoke in front of her, including Chen Liang.

Chen Father took a drag and instructed Chen Mother, “Flower, go make me a pot of tea.”

If it had been before, Chen Mother would have put her hands on her hips, given him two fierce side-eyes, and snapped back, “Did your hands fall off, or did your legs go lame? If you want tea, make it yourself!”

But now, after hearing Chen Dashan’s words, Chen Mother set down the work in her hands and, like an obedient little cat, picked up the teapot and went to the kitchen without a word.

Then Chen Father, as though meeting a contact from the underground party, leaned toward Chen Liang and lowered his voice. “My boy, that medicinal wine of yours is really something. Get me another jug!”

“What?” Chen Liang stared at Chen Dashan in shock. “Didn’t I already give you a jug? What do you need another one for?”

“I have to drink three qian a day. What’s so much about a ten-jin jug?” Chen Father shot him an annoyed glare.

Ever since he had experienced the benefits of that secret virility wine, Chen Father had developed a severe fear of not having enough firepower. He was terrified that one day he would go dead silent and be sent back to those pre-liberation days!

It is easy to go from thrift to extravagance, but hard to go from extravagance back to thrift. After having experienced being the absolute master of the household, to send Chen Father back to the days of timidly scraping by in the cracks of life would be more unbearable than killing him.

“Dad! Are you all right? One jug should last you almost a whole year!” Chen Liang looked at him strangely. His parents were already at this age, and his father still had such a strong addiction? Amazing. Impressive.

At that moment, Chen Mother also finished brewing the tea and brought it out. Chen Liang studied her carefully, and only then realized that in just a few days, his mother seemed to have become an entirely different person.

The former Chen Mother was not unattractive, but she had the standard look of a dowdy housewife - a sallow face, a dark complexion, and an expression full of resentment, as though everyone in the world owed her ten yuan.

But now, her complexion was rosy, her skin bright and lustrous, her brows and eyes were like a painting, and there was even a faint trace of spring in her expression. The whole woman was full of vitality. There was no trace left of her former world-weary look.