Chapter 45: Golden Pumpkin Millet Porridge

Song Qingqian closed the door again and walked back into the inner room.

During this time, occasional noises could be heard.

She was probably looking for something.

After a short while, Song Qingqian returned.

This time, when she opened the door, the gap in the doorway widened slightly.

“Here, all the millet in my house is here. I don’t know if it’s three jin, you check for yourself.”

As she spoke, Song Qingqian handed Jiang Rou a white coarse cloth bag filled with golden millet.

Jiang Rou took it and weighed the bag in her hands. It was quite heavy—probably more than three jin.

She accepted it without hesitation.

“Now this piece of pork is yours.”

Jiang Rou handed the hemp rope tied around the pork to Song Qingqian.

They bartered, and the exchange was complete.  

At this point, Jiang Rou had seen Song Qingqian and obtained the millet she needed. She could have simply taken Zhou Xiaohua and left.  

But she didn’t. Instead, she spoke again to Song Qingqian, who was about to close the door.  

“I tasted this pork yesterday—it’s really fresh, probably from a pig that was just slaughtered. Pork like this is perfect for making boiled pork slices. It’s just as delicious as braised pork, and it’s much easier to prepare.  

“All you need is to fill a pot halfway with water. Put the pork in while the water is still cold, then add cooking wine, green onions, garlic, ginger, onions… any seasonings you have. There’s no need to be precise—just throw them in, even without cutting them.  

“Let it simmer for about half an hour. Then take the pork out, slice it, and dip it in a bit of soy sauce before eating. The taste is absolutely amazing!”  

As Jiang Rou spoke, Song Qingqian unconsciously memorized each step.  

But…  

Why was Jiang Rou telling her this?  

Song Qingqian looked at her with a puzzled expression.  

Jiang Rou suddenly seemed to snap back to reality and exclaimed: “Ah… this pork is yours now, not mine. I was overthinking… Anyway, thanks for the millet. See you another day.”  

With a smile, Jiang Rou picked up the millet in one hand, held Zhou Xiaohua’s hand with the other, and left.  

It was as if she had only been talking because she was craving pork and couldn’t help herself.  

Song Qingqian held the pork and watched Jiang Rou’s departing figure. Her eyes flickered slightly.  

Boiled pork slices…  

It sounded pretty simple.  

—  

Back home, Zhou Zhongshan and Zhou Xiaochuan had not returned yet.  

Jiang Rou took the opportunity to quickly start cooking.  

She opened the bag of millet she had exchanged with Song Qingqian—it was golden in color and of excellent quality.  

She took a portion, placed it in a large bowl, and began rinsing and soaking it.  

When washing millet, it couldn’t be scrubbed like rice.

Millet grains were small and delicate. If scrubbed too hard, they could easily turn into powder, affecting the texture.  

Additionally, most of the nutrients in millet were concentrated on the surface of the grains.  

If washed too vigorously, those nutrients would be lost.  

Jiang Rou used a pair of chopsticks, gently stirring the water.  

As the water swirled, it carried away the dust on the surface of the millet, leaving it clean.  

The golden millet settled at the bottom of the large bowl, soaking for the time being.  

—  

During this time, Jiang Rou started a fire and cleaned the iron pot before filling it with water.  

She first boiled half a pot of hot water.  

The process of cooking millet porridge was different from white rice porridge.  

White rice porridge was made by simmering rice and water together.  

But millet porridge required boiling the water first before adding the soaked millet.  

The ratio of water to millet was also important.  

It was best kept at about 15:1—meaning 100 grams of millet required 1,500 milliliters of water.  

In her past life, Jiang Rou had been a food blogger for a long time. She no longer needed tools to measure proportions—her instincts and experience were enough.  

The firewood crackled in the stove.  

The water in the iron pot began bubbling and boiling.  

Jiang Rou poured the washed and soaked millet into the boiling water.  

The tiny golden grains immediately tumbled with the rolling water.  

She covered the pot with the lid.  

Then, she turned around and began preparing an old pumpkin.  

The pumpkin had been a gift from her sisters-in-law a few days ago.  

It looked a little ugly, its shape uneven and twisted, but its deep orange color suggested good quality.  

In her past life, as baby pumpkins with a soft, powdery texture gained popularity in the market, she had rarely seen such traditional, rustic pumpkins anymore.  

Jiang Rou sliced a small round piece from the pumpkin.  

She peeled it, cut it into small chunks, and rinsed them clean.  

Then, she added the pumpkin pieces into the boiling millet porridge, letting them simmer together.  

The porridge needed to cook for about twenty to thirty minutes.

From time to time, she had to lift the lid and stir gently to prevent the millet from sinking to the bottom and burning.

While paying attention to these details, Jiang Rou did not remain idle.

Standing in front of the stove, she prepared lunch for the day.

She finely chopped a few ounces of pork, added salt and cooking wine, and mixed them well. Then, she placed the minced meat on a plate, creating a small indentation in the center, and cracked an egg into it.

It was a simple dish—steamed minced pork with egg.

She then took a long, purple eggplant and cut it into four to five centimeter sections. Arranging them neatly on a plate, she sprinkled a thin layer of salt over them.

This was the simplest and most refreshing dish—steamed eggplant.

There were only two pots on the stove.

One contained pumpkin millet porridge, while the other was cooking rice.

There were no other iron pots available for stir-frying.

The convenience of these two dishes was that they could be steamed together with the rice.

By the time the rice was cooked, the steamed minced pork with egg and the steamed eggplant were ready as well.

A small amount of soy sauce could be drizzled over the minced pork with egg to enhance its flavor.

As for the steamed eggplant, it had already softened. With a gentle pull using chopsticks, the long sections would separate into thin, delicate strands, resembling shredded scallions.

At this point, she added chopped scallions, soy sauce, and a touch of sesame oil.

With that, the seasoning for the steamed eggplant was complete.

During this time, Jiang Rou did not forget about the bubbling millet porridge.

She lowered the heat to a simmer. After being stewed for a long time, the pumpkin chunks had turned exceptionally soft.

Taking a spoon, she mashed the softened pumpkin completely, turning it into a smooth pumpkin puree.

The golden-orange puree blended entirely into the millet porridge, making it even thicker, with a deeper color—radiant and fragrant.

Moreover, old pumpkins contained a lot of natural starch and sugar.

As a result, the millet porridge required no additional seasoning. The natural sweetness of the pumpkin alone was more than enough.

With that, everything was ready.

Jiang Rou extinguished the stove fire and placed a lid over the millet porridge.  

That was the final step in making the porridge.  

With the residual warmth of the charcoal fire, the porridge would stay warm for another fifteen minutes.  

During the time Jiang Rou was cooking, Zhou Xiaohua had been hovering around her, taking small steps back and forth.  

When Jiang Rou started the fire, Zhou Xiaohua handed her firewood.  

When Jiang Rou washed the vegetables, she stood by and watched intently.  

When Jiang Rou chopped the meat, the timid little girl was startled by the loud sound and nearly shrank back into a corner.  

It wasn’t until Jiang Rou beckoned her over that Zhou Xiaohua, trembling slightly, cautiously stepped forward.  

She stood on her tiptoes, trying her best to peek over the stove. As she watched Jiang Rou work in an orderly manner, a mouthwatering aroma gradually filled the air.  

The fragrance was incredibly tempting.  

Zhou Xiaohua couldn’t stop swallowing her saliva. Her eyes sparkled with admiration as she gazed at Jiang Rou.  

At that moment, Jiang Rou had become a fairy in Zhou Xiaohua’s eyes.  

With just a flick of her fingers, delicious food appeared all over the house!  

Slurp.  

It smelled so good—so, so good! She took a deep breath, trying to absorb the delicious scent.  

Amidst the busyness, a voice suddenly came from the front yard.  

“Wife, Xiaohua, we’re back.”