Chapter 11: Tea Eggs and Meat Pies

In the kitchen, Pu Jiaojiao was already busy at work.

She lifted the lid of the small clay pot warming at the stove mouth, and at once, a wave of rich, aromatic braising scent mixed with the refreshing fragrance of tea leaves wafted out, carried by a plume of steam.

Inside the pot, around twenty tea eggs, carefully simmered since yesterday, lay quietly. Their dark brown shells were evenly covered with fine cracks, like naturally painted ink-wash patterns. In the curling steam, they looked especially glossy and enticing.

She picked up a long-handled wooden spoon and gently stirred the eggs, letting them soak a little longer in the now-piping-hot marinade, ensuring they were evenly heated inside and out.

While the eggs warmed, Pu Jiaojiao’s hands didn’t rest for a moment.

On the chopping board, the kneaded dough and the well-mixed fresh meat filling were already prepped and ready.

Her fingers flew with practiced ease—pinching dough pieces, rolling out thin wrappers, scooping filling, folding, sealing the edges. The whole process was swift and precise, without a trace of hesitation.

Sizzle—

The first crescent-shaped meat pie, filled to the brim, slid into the sizzling hot oil and immediately let out a satisfying sound.

The hot oil bubbled joyfully, the edges of the pie quickly turned golden brown, and the dough visibly puffed up, gradually taking on an appetizing golden hue.

The combined aroma of lard, fresh meat, and flour was irresistible, slipping through the cracks of the doors and windows and spreading through the cool morning air in the courtyard. Even the early crowing of the roosters seemed to carry the scent of a warm hearth.

One after another, the meat pies sizzled in the pan, and the fragrance in the kitchen grew even richer and more intense.

Before long, a small stack of freshly pan-fried meat pies had piled up in the corner of the chopping board. Each one was crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside, glistening with oil, and so plump it looked like the filling was about to burst out.

Pu Jiaojiao tapped them with her chopsticks—exactly ten pies, no more, no less.

She neatly set aside four of them onto a coarse clay plate—for breakfast.

The remaining six had to be wrapped up, separated by clean oil-resistant paper while still hot. These were precious rations for their mountain outing.

“There’s not much to eat in the mountains—these are filling,” she muttered under her breath while carefully wrapping the hot pies, then tucked the paper-wrapped bundles into a sturdy cloth pouch hanging at her waist.

The tea eggs were ready, too. She scooped out four and set them aside in a bowl, then packed another ten into a bamboo box.

She also filled two large bamboo tubes with fresh water, then placed all the prepared food into a back basket she had gotten ready beforehand.

Outside, Jing Hongyi was already up and had just come out of the house. Pu Jiaojiao called out for him to fetch some hot water to wash up, then turned to help Jing Xiaohua get dressed.

These past few days, Jing Xiaohua had been sleeping in with Pu Jiaojiao until well past sunrise.

Waking up so early all of a sudden was a bit of an adjustment.

But she was always a well-behaved child. Though her eyes were still sleepy, she obediently cooperated while Pu Jiaojiao dressed her.

Her adorable compliance made Pu Jiaojiao’s heart melt with joy. With a loud smooch, she kissed Jing Xiaohua on the cheek and rubbed her own face against the little girl’s soft one. “Huahua is just too cute! Mm-hmm, we’re going out to play today!”

The momentarily groggy Jing Xiaohua instantly perked up, stretching out her arms and flashing her little white teeth at Pu Jiaojiao. “A-niang, carry me.”

Pu Jiaojiao smiled and scooped her up from the bed, then led her to wash up. Afterward, she tied two cute little pigtails on her, only then feeling satisfied.

These past few days, she had already gotten Jing Hongyi used to handling things at home. He set all the food on the table and pulled Jing Xiaohua over to sit, focusing intently on peeling tea eggs for her.

Pu Jiaojiao and Jing Xiaohua each ate one meat pie and one tea egg. Jing Hongyi had two of each. Only then did the family set out.

Before leaving, Jing Hongyi deliberately shouldered the basket himself. Pu Jiaojiao didn’t argue and simply praised him, “Ah-Yi is a little man now, you can help with lots of things.”

“It’s only right,” Jing Hongyi replied seriously, quickening his pace to lead the way. The tips of his ears were glowing red—it was impossible not to notice.

Pu Jiaojiao, in good spirits, strolled behind him holding Jing Xiaohua’s hand. Watching the boy ahead, she noticed how his once-thin face had filled out after several days of good meals, and he now looked much more energetic.

The mountain they were heading to for their outing was called Niutou Mountain. Though it was just outside the county town, it would still take at least an hour or more to walk there on foot.

And since they were either women or children, there was no way they could walk fast—it’d probably take them two hours.

So earlier, Pu Jiaojiao had gone back to her family home and happened to catch her eldest brother, Pu Shunyi, returning from a supply run.

She had only intended to borrow the family’s mule cart, but when Pu Shunyi heard his little sister was taking her stepchildren up the mountain, he immediately volunteered to be their driver.

With someone offering to drive, Pu Jiaojiao of course happily agreed and took the two children straight to her family home to meet up.

This time, they didn’t go to the storefront but instead circled to the side gate in the back—where the mule cart was already parked.

Normally, livestock carts in the county town were kept at a centralized location and only brought out when needed.

Originally, Pu Shunyi was going to pick them up from their house, but Pu Jiaojiao declined. After all, the cart was kept closer to the Pu household—it was just a short walk, so it made more sense to meet directly there.

By the time Pu Jiaojiao and the kids arrived, Pu Shunyi was busy preparing the cart. When he saw his younger sister and the two children by her side, he waved and smiled. “Come quick, Mother made sweet fermented rice dumpling soup. Each of you three gets a bowl!”

“We’ve already eaten,” Pu Jiaojiao said, setting the basket down in the mule cart. But she still turned to ask the two children in a soft voice, “Do you want to drink a little? It’ll warm you up.”

“Grandmother’s sweet rice dumpling soup tastes amazing. I used to love it when I lived here,” she added. She hadn’t personally tasted it herself, but she still had the original Pu Jiaojiao’s memories of eating it, and she had tried Qiao Sanniang’s cooking before—so she knew it would be good.

Jing Hongyi instinctively declined. It was his first time here, and a bit shy, so he bowed and greeted politely, “Good day, Uncle Pu.”

Jing Xiaohua, on the other hand, had been here a few times with her mother and was already familiar. The moment she heard that it was her grandmother’s cooking, she tugged at Pu Jiaojiao’s hand, eyes full of longing.

She remembered well how tasty Grandma’s food was.

“It’s just something light to nibble on—it won’t hurt even if you’ve already eaten,” Pu Shunyi said heartily, patting Jing Hongyi on the shoulder. “Come on in, let your grandmother serve you a bowl. There’s time.”

Pu Shunyi’s enthusiasm was hard to refuse, and before Jing Hongyi knew it, he’d been swept inside. By the time he came to his senses, he was holding a steaming bowl of sweet fermented rice dumpling soup, warm vapor curling from the surface.