Chapter 18: Shredded Potatoes and Cornmeal Pancakes

The clothes fit well, and the shoes were just the right size. Although they were old-fashioned, he still looked quite decent in them—just a bit too thin.

Ming Dai still didn’t stop him. Eventually, he choked on the strong aroma and had to lift his head, his eyes turning red and watery as he looked at her, inexplicably aggrieved.

Ming Dai scooped up the shredded potatoes, drained the excess water, and poured them into the pan.

“Sizzle!”

The shredded potatoes momentarily masked the fragrance, making the man anxious.

But in the next moment, as the spatula stirred the ingredients, the aroma returned, and he finally quieted down.

Ming Dai picked up the vinegar bottle and lightly drizzled some along the edge of the pan. A tangy, spicy fragrance exploded in the kitchen.

She could clearly see the man’s Adam’s apple move as he swallowed.

After a few more stirs, she covered the pan with a lid. Zhou Sinian grew impatient and reached out to grab it.

Ming Dai didn’t stop him but simply said, “It’s not cooked yet. It won’t taste good.”

Sure enough, his hand froze as he stared at the lid with slight confusion.

Ignoring him, Ming Dai turned to the large stove, lifted the lid, and was immediately hit with the sweet aroma of cornmeal pancakes.

Swish!

Zhou Sinian instantly moved to stand beside the big pot.

Even though he said nothing, Ming Dai could feel his eagerness. Afraid he might burn himself, she used the spatula to pry off a piece, placed it in a bowl, and waited until it wasn’t too hot before handing it to him.

“Eat this first.”

Zhou Sinian immediately reached out and took it.

Ming Dai took the opportunity to glance at his hands. They were clean, yet also covered in wounds—his knuckles were scraped raw, the skin peeled away.

Some of the injuries were from frostbite that he had rubbed open, while others were from the fight last night.

But his hands were very clean. His fingernails were long but had no dirt embedded underneath.

He held up the pancake and took big bites. In just two or three mouthfuls, the pancake, which was half the size of Ming Dai’s face, had disappeared.

Zhou Sinian’s eyes visibly brightened. He stared intently at the remaining pancakes in the pot like a predator eyeing its prey, but he didn’t reach out to grab them.

As expected, he had his principles.

Ming Dai tested the waters—Zhou Sinian was capable of communication. Pleased with the discovery, she decided to win him over with food.

Living with him was far better than living with the educated youths or the villagers.

She continued handing him pancakes as she cooked. Before long, he had already eaten four pieces.

Ming Dai finished cooking the rest, leaving twelve pancakes in the pot.

Ignoring the empty bowl he still held up expectantly, she grabbed the thermos she had brought along.

She scooped out the excess water, poured it into the thermos, sealed the lid, and placed it on the table. Then she looked at the man still holding up his bowl and said, “This—you can’t knock it over. It will burn you. It hurts. But you can pour water from it to drink. It’s hot.”

She repeated it twice.

Then she grabbed a handful of cornmeal and slowly sprinkled it into the pot while stirring the water.

After a few stirs with the spoon, the cornmeal porridge was ready.

Beside her, Zhou Sinian had already carried his bowl over to the thermos.

He stared at it for a long time, then slowly pulled out the stopper. Watching the rising steam for a moment, he finally picked up the thermos and poured a bowl of hot water.

When he set it down, he was careful—placing the stopper back on gently.

Lifting the bowl, the steam hit his face. He took a sip, only to burn his teeth.

After that, he tested it with his lips. Once it was no longer scalding, he continued drinking.

The more he drank, the happier he became. When he finished his first bowl, he was still unsatisfied and excitedly reached for a second.

Ming Dai quietly watched before stopping him. “Don’t drink plain hot water. Bring your bowl over.”

Zhou Sinian hesitated in place for a moment, torn, but in the end, he still walked over with his bowl.

Ming Dai scooped him a bowl of thick cornmeal porridge.

He held the bowl, staring at it for a long time, sniffing at it, then cautiously testing it with his lips.

Burned.

He sniffed again, tested again.

Still too hot.

He repeated this process a few more times until it was finally at a tolerable temperature.

Opening his mouth wide, he took a big sip. The rich, sweet aroma filled his mouth, but before he could even savor it—slurp!—it slid straight down his throat and disappeared into his stomach!

Panicked, he gulped down another mouthful, only to end up with a mouthful of hot mush sticking to his lips.

Staring at his now-empty bowl, he looked a little displeased.

Ming Dai scooped him another bowl, and Zhou Sinian began repeating the entire process again.

Taking advantage of the moment, Ming Dai dished out the stir-fried shredded potatoes.

Right on cue, Zhou Sinian appeared!

He stared at the potatoes, looking both puzzled and impatient.

“Wait, let’s eat together.”

Ming Dai cleared the cutting board, placed the shredded potatoes and cornmeal pancakes neatly, and scooped herself a bowl of porridge.

Then, she took out a pair of chopsticks and handed them to Zhou Sinian.

He hesitated before taking them. Ming Dai demonstrated how to use them by easily picking up a piece of pancake.

Zhou Sinian’s eyes lit up, and he tried as well—failed.

He tried again—still failed.

Tried once more—success!

“Let’s eat!”

Ming Dai placed her bowl on the cutting board, picked up a pancake, and grabbed some shredded potatoes with her chopsticks. One bite of the pancake, one bite of the potatoes.

The sweet cornmeal porridge, the tangy, spicy, and fragrant shredded potatoes, along with the Sichuan peppercorns she had deliberately added—when these flavors collided, the taste was simply…!

Ming Dai could only say, for her first home-cooked meal in the 1970s, she was beyond satisfied!

Zhou Sinian shakily mimicked her movements, managing to pick up a single strand of shredded potato and quickly stuffing it into his mouth before it fell.

Boom!

His taste buds were revived, roaring in excitement, craving more.

And so, he started frantically picking up vegetables, completely ignoring the porridge and pancakes.

But he could only pick up one strand at a time, while Ming Dai’s single chopstickful was worth at least ten of his attempts.

As he watched the dish gradually empty, Zhou Sinian became displeased.

Ming Dai noticed his reaction. Leisurely, she used her chopsticks to draw a dividing line down the center of the plate.

Then, she only ate from her side.

After observing for a moment, Zhou Sinian understood. Carefully, he extended his chopsticks and straightened the slightly crooked end of the dividing line.

Heh, he really wasn’t willing to give up even a little.

Ming Dai only ate one pancake, one bowl of porridge, and half a plate of shredded potatoes.

Once full, she went to wash the pots and dishes.

At that moment, she was completely unaware that the people in the front yard thought she was dead and were debating whether they should inform the brigade leader.

Then, an overpowering, mouthwatering aroma filled the air, making it impossible for them to think about anything else.

Who was being this outrageous?

Breakfast shouldn’t smell this good!

How were they supposed to eat their lunch later?!

Meanwhile, Ming Dai was busy stopping Zhou Sinian from eating his eighth pancake.

He had already finished off the remaining porridge and vegetables and had eaten seven pancakes. She really couldn’t let him continue.

Ming Dai wrapped up the pancakes. “I’ll save these for you to eat when we go up the mountain.”

Zhou Sinian thought for a moment, then took out a cloth pouch from his jacket pocket—the same one she had used last night to pack him the egg cake.

Ming Dai glanced at it. It wasn’t dirty, so she placed the remaining pancakes inside.

Zhou Sinian quickly grabbed the pouch, trying to stuff it into his pocket.

Unfortunately, the pancakes were too big and wouldn’t fit.

So, he tucked them into his chest instead, pressing down firmly.

It was clear—he was very satisfied.

Ming Dai took out two White Rabbit milk candies to coax him outside.

Seizing the moment while the pot was still warm, she scrubbed the cookware and utensils, wiped down every corner of the kitchen, and thought about what else the kitchen still lacked as she cleaned.

After finishing the cleaning, Ming Dai buried the ashes from the stove to prevent any fire hazards, shut the kitchen door, and stepped outside—only to see Zhou Sinian sitting on the millstone.

Even though he was extremely thin now, she had to admit—he was handsome.

His looks didn’t quite fit the current beauty standards.

To people of this era, his features were too sharp, almost Western, and he was simply too tall.

In a time when most men barely reached 1.75 meters due to widespread malnutrition, he stood at a towering 1.9 meters.

Moreover, his years in the military had given him excellent posture—his back straight, his stance disciplined.

Even while sitting, he was as upright as a bamboo pole, which only made him look even taller.

And with how gaunt he had become, his appearance was somewhat intimidating.

Ming Dai observed his movements carefully, forming a plan in her mind.