Chapter 70: Qingming Rice Cakes—Would You Like a Taste? (Part 2)  

In front of Jiang Rou, the large iron wok sizzled as the glistening oil crackled.  

The minced pork was fully cooked. The next step was to add the other ingredients in order.  

First, the diced bamboo shoots—stir-fried.  

Then, the diced dried tofu—stir-fried.  

Finally, the pickled greens—stir-fried.  

If pickled greens were cooked at high temperatures for too long, they would lose their crisp and refreshing texture. That was why they had to be added last to retain the best flavor.  

These small details might seem insignificant, but sometimes, the difference between a good dish and a great one lay precisely in these little nuances.  

Jiang Rou had a natural talent for cooking. Once she made a dish, she could remember the process effortlessly. Moreover, in her previous life, with the convenience of advanced internet technology, she had learned and absorbed a lot of culinary knowledge.  

Now, in the 1970s, she navigated the kitchen with ease.  

Once all the ingredients had been stir-fried, it was time to season the dish and add the final touch—the scallion whites.  

In the blink of an eye, a large, fragrant bowl of stir-fried pickled greens and bamboo shoots was ready.  

Jiang Rou transferred the dish into a big, beige-colored enamel basin.  

Then, noticing the two children beside her, who were practically drooling, she spoke soothingly.

At the moment, using a high-speed blender was out of the question. She had to rely on traditional methods instead.  

Jiang Rou first used a knife to finely chop the wild herb balls into small pieces.  

Then, she placed the minced mouse-ear hawkweed and mugwort into a stone mortar and continued grinding them into a paste.  

This step required a lot of physical effort.  

Jiang Rou spent quite some time working on it, her arms growing sore, but she finally completed the task.  

After being thoroughly ground, the mouse-ear hawkweed and mugwort were mixed with a small amount of purified water, forming a thick, green paste.  

Now, it was ready for use.  

The last ingredient Jiang Rou took out was glutinous rice flour.  

She poured the green paste into the snow-white flour, and the next step was similar to kneading dough.  

If there was too much water, she added more flour; if there was too much flour, she added more water—adjusting until the perfect consistency was achieved.  

Before long, a smooth, pale green dough infused with the fresh fragrance of mugwort was complete.  

Jiang Rou placed the dough into a washbasin and covered it with a damp cloth to prevent moisture loss and keep it from drying out.  

Straightening her back, she revealed a delicate face glistening with sweat. Her lips curled into a bright smile.  

“Finally, everything is ready! Let’s go to the courtyard and wrap the qingtuan!”  

…  

The small kitchen was too cramped and unbearably hot.  

Now that all the preparations were complete, Jiang Rou led the two children to the sunlit courtyard.  

A basin of stir-fried pickled greens and bamboo shoots, a bowl of green dough, and a large bamboo tray for placing the finished qingtuan—everything was set.  

Standing on either side of Jiang Rou were Zhou Xiaohua and Zhou Xiaochuan.  

Their bright, round eyes stayed fixed on the process, unwilling to look away even for a moment.  

Jiang Rou’s hands were fair and delicate, her fingers slender and agile as she worked.

Jiang Rou pinched off a small piece of dough and quickly rolled it into a smooth ball in the palm of her hand. Then, she pressed it down with both palms, flattening it into a round disc.  

Holding the small, circular dough in one hand, she used her thumb to press along the edges, gradually shaping it into a small hollow pouch.  

With a spoon, she scooped a generous amount of pickled greens and bamboo shoots, stuffing the pouch until it was full.  

Then, she carefully pinched the opening shut, pressing the edges together. Rolling it back and forth in her palms a few times, she shaped it into a perfect, plump qingtuan.  

A round, chubby qingtuan—smooth and flawless.  

Jiang Rou’s hands moved swiftly, her motions fluid and uninterrupted. The two children watched in wide-eyed amazement.  

Especially Zhou Xiaohua, who was both fascinated and anxious.  

She was desperate to try—her eyes had learned the technique, but her hands hadn’t caught up yet. Her tiny face scrunched up in frustration, looking utterly adorable.  

Only after making a third of the batch did Jiang Rou finally let the two children try.  

“Yes… just like that… knead it slowly… no need to rush… Xiaohua, your hands are small, so make yours a little smaller…”  

“If you can’t seal it properly, don’t put too much filling… or it’ll spill out…”  

“That’s right! Just like that… You’re doing great! Very well done…”  

The qingtuan made by Zhou Xiaohua and Zhou Xiaochuan were lopsided, uneven, and far from perfect.  

But Jiang Rou still beamed at them with genuine praise.  

Zhou Xiaohua instantly grinned, delighted by the encouragement.  

Zhou Xiaochuan, on the other hand, kept his face tense, treating the task like a serious challenge. His hands, covered in the sticky dough, felt clumsy, and he had no idea how to apply the right amount of pressure.

“Xiaochuan, you can be gentler. You don’t need to use too much force… Let’s take our time. The more we make, the better you’ll get at it.”  

“I got it.”  

Zhou Xiaochuan lowered his head, carefully considering Jiang Rou’s words. Bit by bit, he relaxed his fingers, and instantly, his work looked much better than before.  

A qingtuan that was about sixty percent perfect was completed.  

Among all the ones he had made so far, this was by far the best.  

Zhou Xiaochuan’s eyes lit up with excitement. He couldn’t wait to lift his head—  

But this time, he didn’t look at Zhou Xiaohua.  

He looked at Jiang Rou.  

Jiang Rou had been watching them the entire time, her face glowing with a warm smile.  

When Zhou Xiaochuan met her gaze, his face suddenly flushed. Panicking, he quickly lowered his head again.  

Without another word, he buried himself in making more qingtuan.  

Seeing that the two children were getting the hang of it, Jiang Rou let them continue making the qingtuan on their own.  

Meanwhile, she started preparing the Qingming rice cakes.  

The ingredients for Qingming rice cakes were exactly the same as those for qingtuan.  

The only difference was that instead of being round and plump, Qingming rice cakes were shaped similarly to northern dumplings.

Jiang Rou first used the method for making dumplings to wrap a plump, round dumpling.  

Then, holding the dumpling in one hand, she used the pad of her thumb on the other hand to push the semicircular edge inward, forming evenly sized pleats along the edge.  

The pleats resembled delicate lace, encircling the dumpling.  

It was both intricate and beautiful.  

With that, a perfectly made Qingming rice cake was completed.  

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