There were three dishes and one soup, all in large enough portions to serve several people.

Wen Chun and Wen Xuan had just heard a lot of gossip and were too lazy to even listen to the story on the radio. After finishing their meal, they begged Zhong Huisheng to continue with her stories.

Zhong Huisheng had so many stories that she couldn’t finish them in three days and nights. It was a rare opportunity for her to chat so freely, so she went off-topic and delved into supernatural tales from her hometown.

Since the stories weren’t particularly frightening and ended with scientific explanations, the two children listened with great interest and were not scared.

Wen Jiajia was quite surprised after hearing this. The aunt’s cousin, who didn’t seem to have studied beyond a private school, actually had some knowledge of physics, chemistry, and biology.

At night, Zhong Huisheng lay on the bed after a relaxing bath. The windows were not closed yet, but iron mesh was nailed to them. Moxa sticks^[1]is a tool used in traditional Chinese medicine. It’s like a herbal cigar made from dried mugwort leaves. You light it and hold it near the skin to apply gentle heat, which is believed to help … Continue reading were burning on the windowsills, and mosquito-repellent plants like mint were planted outside the windows, so there was no need to worry about mosquitoes or flying insects.

The evening breeze was gentle, carrying the fragrance of mugwort and the faint scent of lake water. The moon was exceptionally bright, casting a dreamy, hazy veil over the lake, reminiscent of the wild lake next to her childhood home.

She stood up, lowered the thatched curtains to block out the light, and fell asleep in the pitch-black room.

—

Zhong Huisheng’s arrival was a great help to Wen Jiajia. Wen Jiajia and Wei Dai had agreed to pay her 15 yuan a month. Though Zhong Huisheng was reluctant to accept it, she couldn’t resist the couple’s insistence and worked harder.

However, the house was so small that after cleaning, she didn’t know what else to do. But Wen Jiajia felt she did a lot. For instance, after Wei Dai went on a mission, Zhong Huisheng prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day.

Wen Chun and Wen Xuan were finally freed from the school cafeteria and enjoyed home-cooked meals like most of their classmates. Though the school’s cafeteria had tasty food, it couldn’t compare to the meals at home. Zhong Huisheng’s cooking was at least two or three levels above Wen Jiajia’s and Wei Dai’s, and some dishes even surpassed those made by Master He.

One day, Wen Jiajia asked about this, and learned that Zhong Huisheng’s mother was the daughter of a famous chef. Her family had been chefs for generations and was renowned for their culinary skills.

Although Zhong Huisheng had not studied cooking systematically from her grandfather, she had practiced making several family dishes over three to five years. While her skills weren’t suited for a big hotel, she could still prepare delicious home-cooked meals.

Given these circumstances, the two girls naturally preferred to eat at home. They could listen to the radio while eating and then take a nice nap in bed. Life was truly enjoyable. Wen Jiajia no longer had to rush back in the evenings to steam rice or wait for a day off to cook her desired meals.

She had casually mentioned missing steamed buns, and Aunt promised to make them the next day. Zhong Huisheng could not only make steamed buns but also flower rolls. She even said that if she had butter, she could make custard buns. With milk available at home daily, making custard buns was ideal.

Once Wen Chun expressed a desire for buns, two days later, barbecued pork buns appeared in the house. The sweet and salty barbecued pork buns were a new flavor for the sisters. While Wen Chun was okay with them, Wen Xuan was astonished, and the barbecued pork buns quickly replaced bamboo shoots and pork buns in her heart.

Wen Jiajia thought to herself: The mystery was solved; the aunt’s cousin’s maternal grandfather must be a famous Cantonese chef.

Zhong Huisheng particularly enjoyed tinkering in the kitchen, so she asked Wei Dai to make tools for her, such as a bamboo colander and a bamboo steamer. With a generous food allowance from Wen Jiajia and friendly neighbors, she worked even harder.

In just two months, Wen Jiajia had gained weight.

By the end of the year, the temperature had dropped drastically after mid-November. By December, temperatures were in the single digits and could briefly reach double digits at noon, only to drop again soon after.

The wind was biting cold, and many people agreed that this winter was much colder than the last. Wei Dai had procured two donkey carts of matches and several hundred kilograms of coal from the army in early December, solving the family’s winter fuel problem.

One day in mid-December, it started snowing. The snow was heavier and more violent than the previous year, and Wen Jiajia could hear the sound of snow breaking bamboos at night, which was so loud it woke her up.

As soon as she woke, Wei Dai was also awake. He had returned from a mission in late November, looking darker and thinner, while Wen Jiajia had become whiter and fatter. With the due date approaching, Wei Dai was increasingly anxious, fearing for her and the baby’s safety.

“Are you hungry, or do you need to go to the bathroom?” Wei Dai asked, turning on the flashlight on the bedside table.

Wen Jiajia touched her stomach and sighed, “I need to go to the toilet.”

As pregnancy progresses, the need to go to the toilet increases because the growing baby puts pressure on the bladder. Wen Jiajia sometimes had to use the toilet three times a night.

It was snowing outside, and although Wei Dai had wanted to put a spittoon in the room, Wen Jiajia refused. For her, going to the toilet was a very private matter, more so than taking a shower.

Wei Dai had no choice but to build another toilet next to the room.

The toilet was built next to the windowsill, which is small and less than three square meters. Fortunately, it could be accessed by opening a window door, so there was no need to walk through the snow.

After using the toilet, Wen Jiajia found herself no longer feeling sleepy. Hugging a pillow she had made for herself in early November—large and very comfortable—she noted that her stomach was rumbling and said, “I’m hungry.”

“Dumplings or wontons?” Wei Dai asked.

Today, Wei Dai bought some pork leg meat. He used part of it to make dumpling filling and beat the rest into a meat paste for wontons.

Wen Jiajia smacked her lips and thought for a moment: “Wontons. Dumplings are too filling.”

Wontons were different; one bowl would make her feel only half full, allowing her to feel sleepy later.

Wei Dai got up and went to the kitchen to make wontons.

Since Wen Jiajia wasn’t feeling sleepy, she got up, put on her cotton coat, and tiptoed to the kitchen, careful not to wake Aunt, who was a light sleeper and found it hard to fall back asleep if disturbed.

Because Wei Dai was just cooking wontons, he didn’t light the stove. When the water in the small iron pot boiled, he took a few frozen wontons and put them into the boiling water.

The wonton wrappers, which become hard when frozen, softened instantly in the boiling water.

“How many do you want?” Wei Dai asked in a low voice.

Wen Jiajia sat on a nearby bench, warming her hands by the stove: “Twelve. Do you want some?”

Wei Dai nodded: “I get greedy when you eat.”

It had become a habit. A few days ago, he used to take care of Wen Jiajia’s leftover midnight snacks, and now he feels a little hungry if he doesn’t eat at night.

He went out the window, grabbed another handful of wontons, and added them to the pot while continuing to cook.

While the wontons cooked, he started preparing the soup base. Since Wen Jiajia now felt nauseous after eating anything greasy, he didn’t add lard to the bowl to enhance the flavor. Instead, he just added some salt and soy sauce, and scooped a few spoonfuls of boiling soup from the pot. The soup base was prepared simply.

The wontons cooked quickly. When they were done, they floated to the surface and expanded, similar to fish balls or thousand-layer tofu in a hot pot.

Using a bamboo strainer, Wei Dai scooped up the wontons and placed them in a bowl. He skipped garnishes like seaweed, chopped green onions, or dried shrimp. A simple bowl of wontons was already very satisfying for a late evening snack.

The couple finished the wontons together. When they returned to bed, it was almost one o’clock in the morning. There was still warmth in the quilt, and with Wei Dai beside her, she didn’t feel cold.

She rested her head on Wei Dai’s arm, and he gently placed his hand on her belly.

“When do you think the baby will arrive?” Wei Dai asked.

Wen Jiajia replied, “The doctor said it would be the end of December, but I think it would be best if the baby arrived in January.”

Wei Dai asked, “Why?”

Wen Jiajia smiled and said, “That would make the baby always one year younger in age.”

“…”

Wei Dai stopped touching her belly and instead touched her head: “You don’t have a fever, so why are you talking nonsense?”

Is there such a thing as being one year younger? Compared to children born in 1977, the baby would be the same age.

Wei Dai added, “One year younger means one year less of retirement.”

For the sake of both the mother and the baby, the baby should try to be born by the due date.

Wen Jiajia thought about it and agreed. The two talked for a bit longer before falling asleep again.

The next day, the snow had accumulated to the middle of the threshold, covering everything in a sea of white. Wen Jiajia glanced at it briefly, fearing she might get snow blindness if she looked too long.

“Jia Jia, come and eat,” Zhong Huisheng called out from the living room upon hearing her get up.

“Okay!” Wen Jiajia replied, carrying two iced hand warmers.

Zhong Huisheng smiled and asked, “Did you have wontons last night?”

Wen Jiajia nodded, “Yes, Wei Dai made them.”

Zhong Huisheng suggested, “Make a pot of chicken soup the next day and use it for a midnight snack. You can have wontons in the chicken soup. Even if you’re afraid of oil, just skim it off when the chicken soup is frozen. Chicken soup really tastes better without the oil.”

As they spent more time together, they got to know each other’s personalities and habits. Zhong Huisheng was very particular about food and believed every meal, including supper, should be good. If she were present, she would blanch two green vegetables and add them to the wontons.

Wen Jiajia preferred to avoid the trouble of using chicken soup as a base and only ate the wontons unless someone helped skim the chicken soup oil.

Despite their different preferences, Wen Jiajia felt that there was no elder better than Zhong Huisheng. Perhaps she wouldn’t feel as comfortable even if Wei Dai’s mother were present.

Zhong Huisheng found Wen Jiajia easy to get along with and take care of. Both felt that the money spent and received was worth it.

***

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