Chapter 80: Braised Chicken with Scallion Oil

“How is it? Not a bad spot, right?”

Zhao Guifen admired the scene while asking Jiang Rou.

Jiang Rou nodded meaningfully. “Mm.”

She understood instantly.

Zhao Guifen was a kindred spirit.

The two of them lay on the wall like this, watching for a while.

These soldier men had all been tempered in war and fire, and their physiques were exceptional—there was nothing to criticize.

Especially when compared to some men who had gained weight after marriage, sporting round bellies—these men were on an entirely different level.

However, Jiang Rou still believed that the most outstanding one among them was Zhou Chongshan.

Zhou Chongshan had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a perfect inverted triangle ratio—truly one in ten thousand.

Thinking of this—

Jiang Rou’s red lips curled into a proud smile.

Her man was indeed the best!

Perhaps it was because Jiang Rou’s gaze had landed on Zhou Chongshan too many times, carrying an undeniable heat.

From a distance, the man lifted his head.

His dark eyes locked onto Jiang Rou’s, and their gazes met instantly.

Being caught leaning over the wall: “peeking at handsome men.” made Jiang Rou feel a little embarrassed. Her face flushed slightly.

She quickly withdrew her gaze and turned to step down from the wide bench.

As she turned around—

She noticed that at some point, Zhou Xiaohua had walked up to the bench.

The little girl tilted her head up, looking extremely eager, as if she also wanted to climb onto the bench and take a look at the “scenic view” beyond the wall.

Her dark, round eyes were filled with curiosity.

After Jiang Rou had stepped down and stood firmly, she patted Zhou Xiaohua’s head and gently advised her.

“This bench is too high. Xiaohua is still a child, and if a child stands on it, you might fall. It’s too dangerous. You can’t climb up high, understand?”

Zhou Xiaohua listened and obediently nodded.

However, her big, glistening eyes still shone with curiosity.

Jiang Rou smiled faintly. She certainly wasn’t going to tell a four-year-old the real reason.

Appreciating men was something that should wait until at least sixteen…

No! Until eighteen years old!

As the days passed—

Jiang Rou increasingly saw Zhou Xiaohua and Zhou Xiaochuan as her own children. Like a real mother, she didn’t want them to grow up too fast.

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Outside the house—

A full cart of bricks had been completely unloaded in no time under the coordinated efforts of the men.

Next came the process of mixing yellow sand with cement and water, which would then be used to plaster the walls brick by brick.

On the island, many villagers still lived in mud-brick houses.

A courtyard like this, built with bricks and cement, was already quite remarkable.

In the blink of an eye—

A square-shaped foundation was constructed, gradually taking form.

At this moment, Jiang Rou did not remain idle.

Earlier, she had mentioned making qingtuan again for everyone.

She planned to prepare them in the afternoon as a snack for the break—a light treat that wouldn’t be too filling but could still replenish energy.

For lunch, they were having steamed buns.

Zhao Guifen, an expert in Northeastern cuisine, had already agreed to help Jiang Rou. With both of them making the buns together, it would be much easier.

However, since they had invited people to help build the house, even if they were not paying them, they couldn’t just serve plain steamed buns with pickled vegetables.

That would be far too harsh.

Even if others didn’t mind, if word spread, it would reflect poorly on Zhou Chongshan’s reputation.

So, Jiang Rou had made preparations in advance.

Yesterday, she had sought out Lin Yulan.

Lin Yulan had previously worked alongside Yang Hongping, traveling deep into the surrounding rural areas to engage in community work.

As a result, she was the one in the courtyard most familiar with the villagers.

Jiang Rou asked Lin Yulan to help her purchase a free-range chicken from the villagers.

It was a large, plump hen.

Villagers typically kept hens at home for laying eggs, so even if they were willing to sell, the price was not cheap.

But Jiang Rou still bought it.

Zhou Chongshan’s allowance was generous, and they had substantial savings at home. Indulging in a bit of luxury once in a while was not a problem at all.

Before noon,

The villager who sold chickens delivered the old hen that Jiang Rou had ordered. As per her request, it had already been slaughtered and plucked.

If it were a live hen, Jiang Rou would not have been able to bring herself to do it.

The villager was an honest and simple person. He even collected the chicken blood in a small bowl and brought it along with the hen.

Once the blood solidified, it could be stir-fried and used in dishes—wasting it was not an option.

Jiang Rou paid for the chicken and thanked the villager before heading into the kitchen.

Today, she planned to cook—Waterless Scallion Oil Braised Chicken.

Earlier, when she had gone up the mountain to forage for wild vegetables, she had dug up a good amount of wild mountain scallions.

These scallions were fragrant and tender.

Jiang Rou had already made a lot of scallion oil for storage, which would make preparing scallion oil noodles more convenient in the future.

However, she still had plenty of scallions left.

Today, they would finally come in handy.

Jiang Rou first cleaned the slaughtered hen thoroughly. Using a knife, she removed some of the excess fat that was not edible, then placed the chicken into a large basin and poured hot water over it.

Scalding the chicken with hot water caused the skin to shrink and tighten quickly, making it easier to absorb color during the marination process later.

After just two minutes, she poured out the boiling water.

Next came the marinade ingredients: light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, oyster sauce, cooking wine, salt, and a generous amount of ground pepper.

Jiang Rou’s “Tao Duoduo Mall” account now had money in it, so buying small ingredients like these was an effortless task.

She could have even purchased pre-mixed salt-baked chicken seasoning and used it without anyone noticing.

However, she believed that industrially blended seasonings were not as delicious as her own mix. She trusted her own skills more.

Then came the marination process.  

The light soy sauce and dark soy sauce had to be evenly rubbed over the surface of the chicken.  

This process took about an hour. During this time, the chicken needed to be flipped multiple times to ensure an even coating of color.  

While waiting for the chicken to marinate, Jiang Rou and Zhao Guifen worked together to make tray after tray of steamed buns.  

By the time the buns were placed in the steamer, an hour had passed, and it was time to prepare the chicken.  

A thin layer of oil was poured into the iron pot.  

There was no need to wait for the oil to heat up—first, a few key ingredients were added: chopped onions, ginger, garlic, and the most important of all, wild mountain scallions.  

The wild scallions didn’t even need to be chopped; the long green stalks were simply tied into loops.  

All the ingredients were spread evenly across the bottom of the iron pot.  

Once that was done, the whole hen was placed into the pot.  

The chicken’s cavity was opened, its legs spread apart, ensuring that the inner side of the meat was fully in contact with the ingredients at the bottom.  

Then, the marinade from earlier was poured into the pot as well.  

And just like that—  

All that was left was to cover the pot with a lid and let it braise over medium heat for thirty minutes. After that, it would be ready.  

Zhao Guifen watched Jiang Rou cook from the side. When she saw her place the lid on the pot and wipe her hands, looking as if the job was done, she couldn’t help but ask in surprise,  

“Sister Rou, you’re not adding any water?”  

Jiang Rou replied: “No.”  

“Huh?” Zhao Guifen was stunned. She waved her hands anxiously. “How can that be? Won’t the chicken burn without water?”

In Zhao Guifen’s mind, dishes like iron pot stewed chicken and iron pot stewed goose always required a large amount of water to simmer, bubbling away as they cooked.  

But in Jiang Rou’s cooking process just now, not a single drop of water had been added.  

A perfectly good hen—she couldn’t bear to see it ruined.  

This was meat, after all! If it burned, wouldn’t that be such a waste?  

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