Chapter 00261: Boiled Noodles as a Delicacy
# Boiled Noodles as a Delicacy
Chapter 261
Novel: After the Immortals Disappeared
Chapter 261: Boiled Noodles as a Delicacy
Wu Qing choked momentarily, “Auntie, how could I dare to?”
“Over these years, Hong Lang has never mentioned it, but I know he reminisces about the days when he commanded thousands. It’s not easy, but now he must swim in the vast sea once again.” A Jin released a heavy sigh, “I’ve burdened him long enough; it cannot continue like this. If you are unwilling to give, then I will seek you out every day.”
Wu Qing hesitated in place for quite a while, ultimately resigned, “Fine, fine. I’ll go fetch it. Just don’t let it slip.”
The grain convoy arrived at Xin Huang when the sun had just begun to set, barely grazing the mountain peaks before it disappeared beneath the horizon.
The timing was just right.
Xin Huang was merely a small town inhabited by a thousand or so people.
As hundreds of grain carts rolled in, they filled all the empty spaces in the western part of the town.
The total number of porters and guards exceeded that of the townsfolk.
After an entire day’s journey, the horses and men were weary.
Once they stopped, they needed food, drink, and rest, causing quite a commotion in the whole town.
The small town’s capacity to accommodate guests was limited, hence the news of the grain convoy’s arrival had to be sent several hours in advance, allowing the townsfolk to prepare beforehand.
Only then could the water troughs be filled with fresh water, the fodder for the cattle and horses be sifted and prepared, and hot meals ready for the personnel.
When both weary and hungry, nothing can settle the heart more than a hot meal.
Although the porters were only provided coarse grain buns, at least they were steaming hot and could be dipped in some bean sauce.
The soldiers could indulge a bit more, receiving cooked beans, and some even got pickled cabbage to be stuffed into their buns.
He Chuanhua and his son dismounted from their horses, handing their mounts to their personal guards.
He Lingchuan was dressed in ordinary clothes.
Although Xin Huang had hosted grain convoys multiple times, its resources were still limited.
He Chuanhua noticed that during mealtimes, it was quite common to see chaos where men were thrown from their horses and supplies fell short.
The one thing giving him solace was that the army’s physician meticulously executed orders, and both human and animal food and water were checked for poison, with no irregularities found.
In truth, the army possessed Yuan power, greatly enhancing their resistance to common toxins; it was mostly the porters and livestock that had to worry.
He Chuanhua, being prudent, worried about hidden sabotage from their enemies, insisting on poison testing.
Otherwise, if the opponent sprinkled toxic powder in the drinking water, how could both men and beasts not suffer from diarrhea on the way?
After wandering around the camp twice, He Lingchuan finally pressed his stomach and called out, “Dad, it’s time for us to eat.” One’s body is iron, and food is steel; if they didn’t eat soon, they would be famished.
On the contrary, the medicinal monkey had no burdens when eating its bun, and the rock wolf also had its own rations, so none would suffer any loss.
Along the way, He Lingchuan found out that it was able to eat apples and mixed grains as well!
He Chuanhua pointed at the buns and asked, “Shall we have two?”
“After eating so many along the way, are you still not full?” He Lingchuan rolled his eyes, “Aren’t you here to understand the people’s plight? Staying in the army won’t give you a proper understanding; you must head into town for a real look while eating.”
He Chuanhua smiled helplessly, “Fine then.”
Just then, the county magistrate came to invite the commander of the grain convoy, saying he had reserved a banquet at the town's tavern to welcome the commanders.
Xin Huang belonged to Baiyun County, and though the county office wasn’t located here, the arrival of the grain convoy was of utmost importance, so the magistrate still made his way.
He Chuanhua was traveling lightly this time to inspect the people’s conditions and did not draw attention to himself, making Mo Zhe Jingxuan, originally his aide and now a functionary in Xia Prefecture, the nominal commander of the grain convoy.
The magistrate invited Mo Zhe Jingxuan, who readily accepted.
There was hardly anything delectable in such a small place, but the banquet for special guests would surely provide a hearty spread.
He could gorge himself at the tavern while He Chuanhua had to fend for himself regarding supper.
The father and son quietly left the camp without bringing the two monsters, with Mao Tao, Shan Youjun, and Jiao Tai trailing behind them.
This town was quite small, with just over two hundred combined houses, sheds, and shops.
The main street stretched only about a hundred meters, easily traversed in a few steps, and the dust was thick, with all the buildings appearing dull and gray.
There was only one tavern in town, reserved by the magistrate to host Mo Zhe Jingxuan, so the father and son decided to avoid it.
After walking around, they noticed that there weren’t many shops and few pedestrians.
However, upon reaching the well, they found a line of people waiting.
Seeing his father’s stern face, He Lingchuan asked, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s dark as ink, and hardly any houses have their lights on.” Oil for lamps and candles cost money, which poor people could scarcely afford.
At least the residents of Dun Yu would keep their lights on until after mealtime—it seemed the folks here had to eat early and sleep when dark.
“People here are too poor.”
He Chuanhua sighed, a worried expression on his face, “The further north we go, the worse it gets.”
On this trip, he realized that Dun Yu’s prosperity was dozens of times greater than that of other regions! As they traveled north, the people became poorer, the number of households dwindled, the lands grew barren, the governance became increasingly chaotic, and the livelihoods of the people deteriorated.
He had seen impoverished families at the market trying to sell their children, boasting of how little they ate while working hard, desperately begging others to buy them.
Families were all skin and bones, and the children showed no expression when sold.
He had even heard from the common folk about the army’s “killing for credit” behavior.
All manner of chaos and corruption were glaringly visible.
Poverty leads to disorder.
Without a doubt, if he wanted to govern Xia Prefecture properly, he still had a long way to go.
“Dad, worry about the country and the people once you’ve eaten your fill.” He Lingchuan pointed ahead, “How about that place?”
A food stall ahead emanated light and the aroma of cooking.
Three horses were tethered outside.
He Chuanhua’s stomach growled audibly, realizing he was hungry, “Let’s go inside.”
Upon lifting the wind-blocking curtain, everyone found the stall modest, with shabby tables and chairs, but at least it was quite spacious, accommodating seven or eight square tables.
Currently, one table of guests was eating.
Once they sat down, Mao Tao shouted, “Shopkeeper, bring us some food!”
The shopkeeper wore a pained expression, “We only have sour powder and mixed grain buns.”
He Lingchuan had already noticed people at the front and back tables slurping the powder, swallowing hard, “Bring them all, with some ingredients if you have them!”
Most of it was ready, and about half a stick of incense later, five large bowls of soup were set before them.
The sour powder was simply composed of three ingredients: coarse powder, pickled cabbage, and roasted peanuts.
Green beans grew in the area, so it was bean powder.
The cabbage had been pickled for half a winter and was already sour enough; it mixed well with the powder without needing the rare vinegar.
As for the peanuts, they were simply roasted over the fire—no thoughts of luxury frying.
The entire bowl of sour powder was devoid of any meat, not even a trace of oil floating on top.
The crowd was starving, and as they lifted their chopsticks for a bite, it felt quite refreshing.
Mao Tao glanced at the other table, imitated their request for some garlic.
Everyone slurped the powder, chewed on the garlic, and the taste was both sour and spicy, strikingly bold.
Delicious!
The place also served soup with flat noodles, essentially boiled noodles in water, embellished with two pieces of pickled cabbage, a few beans, and a dish of bean sauce to dip their mixed grain buns into.
Because there was no meat, He Lingchuan had a big bowl of sour powder yet still felt an emptiness in his stomach, so he ordered two bowls of flat noodle soup and four big buns.
Though the price was cheap, it wasn’t something the locals could comfortably afford.
As He Chuanhua ate, he asked the shopkeeper, “Do you usually get business here?”
The shopkeeper waved his hand in despair, “No money to be made, no money!”
Mao Tao interjected, “This is a vital route between north and south; I see some merchant teams passing through, better than those poor villages inland that have nothing but dirt to eat.”
The shopkeeper looked disgusted, “The taxes and rents are so high; all the money just goes to others, to the officials!”
He Chuanhua inquired, “How much tax and rent do you have to pay?” Taxes and rents were unavoidable when running a shop.
“I earn ten copper coins, and I have to hand over eight. What do you think I can earn?” The shopkeeper stirred the soup while self-mocking, “I barely scrape by without having to sell my daughter.”
A nearby customer who had been eating the powder suddenly chimed in, “Don’t listen to his complaints, others can’t even open up shop here. Today when the convoy came, all the town’s water carts were used there, leaving us with none. Look! Everyone queues at the wells. He, though, has a well behind him, while others have to fight for it.”
Since selling powder at least earned some pocket change for a meal, why wouldn’t others do it?
He Lingchuan thought it was funny, yet he could not laugh.
At an adjacent table sat three patrons dressed as merchants.
He Chuanhua asked them, “What business do you all conduct?”
“Cloth, lamp oil, that sort of thing. We’ll take some local goods back during our return trip.”
Essential commodities. “How’s business?”
All three huffed in unison, “Not good, not good, only about four tenths of what it was in past years. We won’t be back next year.”
They looked at He Chuanhua and the others, then asked, “Are you also officials or soldiers?”
He Chuanhua flatly denied, “We are heading north, following in the wake of the officials for safety.”
“What’s in the north?”
He Chuanhua casually replied, “Just hoping to collect some sugar.”
The shopkeeper interjected, “That’s a fruitless endeavor; you won’t find good quality.”
“Why’s that?”
“About thirty to forty years ago, Xin Huang was famous for producing brown sugar, well-known throughout Xia Prefecture. The surrounding lands grew sugar beets, a sight to behold. The older folks in town say that during those days, brown sugar sold readily; as soon as it was made, everyone from neighboring towns came to snag it, all the way to Dun Yu.”
He Chuanhua mused, “We haven’t seen any sugar beet fields along the way.”
“They’ve long since disappeared. Now, most of Xia Prefecture uses sugar from the Northern Demon Kingdom, yellow sugar. It’s said this is one of the conditions agreed upon by our Great Yuan and the Northern Demon Kingdom: every year, tens of thousands of catty of sugar must be bought from there, alas!”
He Lingchuan remarked, “I’ve tasted it; it tastes great and lasts long.”
He Da Shao hadn’t ever tasted brown sugar; whether in Shi Huan or Dun Yu, all the snacks he had were made with yellow sugar.
In Heishui City, he had only eaten the local raw sugar.
“Indeed, yellow sugar isn’t expensive. Ever since then, Xin Huang’s brown sugar couldn’t sell anymore, slowly leading to no one producing it, and everyone switched to growing grain, yet the land hardly yields good crops.”
A nearby merchant chimed in, “You don’t even know how powerful the Northern Demon Kingdom is. They produce several million catty of sugar each year!”
The shopkeeper fumed, “It’s quite infuriating!”
Just then, Shan Youjun gave He Lingchuan a heavy pat, his voice neither too loud nor too soft, “Hey, I’m full now, and I need to find a place to relieve myself; are you coming?”
He normally wouldn’t show such disregard for his elders, and He Lingchuan blinked, “Let’s go.”
(End of Chapter)