Peanut Butter

The elders often say that the blueprint for building the Forbidden City was based on the layout of Tanzhe Temple. The entire temple has a clear central axis, with symmetrical structures on both sides. Next to the Hall of Heavenly Kings, there are incense offerings, as well as a posted notice on the “Incense Offering Rituals at Tanzhe Temple.” The staff also demonstrate the rituals for visitors on the spot.

Xia Jiao, holding her ID card and phone with the payment code open, earnestly followed Wen Chongyue to bow and pray. Afterward, she pondered for a moment and asked him with some concern, “Next time, should I bring a printout of my WeChat and Alipay payment codes? What if they want to send me money via WeChat?”

Wen Chongyue praised her idea, “Good one. I think we should also jot down our bank card numbers, leaving no loopholes.”

Xia Jiao replied, “That’s right.”

Wen Chongyue added, “Opportunities always favor those who are prepared.”

Xia Jiao liked that saying a lot. As she followed Wen Chongyue past the Hall of Heavenly Kings, they passed a huge pot on the east side of the hall. It looked large enough to fit Xia Jiao and cook a clay pot rice. Some people who come to pray like to visit the enlightenment room and discuss Buddhist teachings with the temple’s monks. However, Xia Jiao thought that she didn’t have such good fortune. Wen Chongyue, being an atheist as well, simply strolled around the temple with her, admiring the Emperor’s tree granted by Emperor Qianlong.

The ginkgo leaves were golden and nearly fallen. Xia Jiao and Wen Chongyue each received a ginkgo leaf bookmark, handmade by the monks in the temple. It was beautiful. Wen Chongyue told Xia Jiao that every year on the eighth day of the twelfth month, Tanzhe Temple’s monks distribute porridge, enough to feed around three thousand people. The porridge is usually made with ingredients that warm and nourish the body, such as chestnuts, peanuts, glutinous rice, dates, and lotus seeds. In the past, Wen Qiming had taken Wen Chongyue and Yu Tan to try it, and they even bought the ingredients to cook at home.

Xia Jiao’s eyes sparkled. “That sounds wonderful.”

Wen Chongyue chuckled. “What’s so wonderful about it?”

Xia Jiao replied, “It sounds great, like a way to get some good luck?”

Wen Chongyue said nothing but suddenly picked her up, weighing her in his arms.

Xia Jiao was puzzled. “Hmm?”

Wen Chongyue said seriously, “I’m getting my good luck.”

It wasn’t Xia Jiao getting his good luck, but Wen Chongyue himself was taking “his good luck.”

She realized this.

Xia Jiao froze for a couple of seconds, wanting to leap up but stopping herself. She felt it wouldn’t be very composed. Trying to suppress the urge to squeal like a flapping bird, the warm autumn sunlight bathed them. She coughed lightly, opened her arms, and hugged Wen Chongyue. “Let’s share some good luck.”

Wen Qiming had an old friend, a former physics professor, who became a monk here four years ago. At that time, he had just finished guiding his last group of graduate students and didn’t say things like “Whether you defend your thesis or not is irrelevant.” Despite the bells ringing in the morning and evening, he still tried his best to guide students through their studies.

Later, he remained in the temple, occasionally leaving to visit his relatives.

Because of this connection, he had invited Wen Qiming to have vegetarian meals here. After Yu Tan, Wen Chongyue, and Xia Jiao had enough sightseeing, they went to Jiafu Restaurant, located on the eastern wing outside the temple. Xia Jiao found the name of the restaurant interesting, so Wen Chongyue patiently explained its origin.

It turned out that Tanzhe Temple used to be called Jiafu Temple. The restaurant had once been called Anle Tang and was a place where elderly monks lived before it was transformed into a restaurant and hotel.

During their meal, Yu Tan brought up something.

“Xia Jiao, have you ever seen Empresses in the Palace?”

Xia Jiao nodded.

Yu Tan said, “The empresses and royal concubines of the Qing Dynasty practiced here at Tanzhe Temple.”

Xia Jiao widened her eyes in surprise. “Wow.”

Yu Tan enjoyed seeing this expression on her face. Xia Jiao had a slightly proud personality, was meticulous in her work, and didn’t usually find people she clicked with. Among the younger generation, there were many scheming individuals, but Yu Tan thought highly of Xia Jiao. She was intelligent but not worldly and praised her sincerely.

Yu Tan smiled, reached out to look at Wen Chongyue, then regretfully pulled her hand back, only speaking to Xia Jiao. “This afternoon, I’ll take you out to eat meat dumplings, sesame sugar cakes, fried dough sticks, and dried fruit. We’ll have a fun time without bringing Chongyue.”

Xia Jiao hesitated for a moment, glancing at Wen Chongyue. He asked, “Aunt, I’m your nephew.”

“Who cares about that?” Yu Tan replied. “You go with your dad to the hospital for check-ups, and I’ll take Xia Jiao out. It’s the weekend, and she needs to relax. She can’t spend the whole day at the hospital. Isn’t it exhausting?”

Wen Chongyue then let go but gave a few more instructions, reminding Yu Tan that Xia Jiao had sensitive digestion in autumn and winter, so she should avoid difficult-to-digest foods. Her period was coming soon, so no cold drinks or food, and to avoid places with too many people and wear a mask…

Listening to Yu Tan, who looked like she was getting a headache, he sighed, “You act like I’m kidnapping her! I’m not going to let anything happen to Xia Jiao. I’ll take care of her. Not a single hair will be lost.”

Xia Jiao wanted to tell her aunt something.

But she decided to let that last sentence go—avoiding hair loss was way too difficult.

In the afternoon, Yu Tan took Xia Jiao to Shichahai for a visit. Unfortunately, the temperature was too low and it wasn’t cold enough to freeze yet. If it had been, during the winter, the frozen ice rink at Shichahai would have been a popular spot for the young masters of big families to show off their skills and “chase after girls,” a colloquial expression meaning to pursue a girl.

Shichahai consists of three areas: Qianhai, Houhai, and Xihai. There are many alleys hidden between them. Houhai is more of a gathering place for artistic youth to hang out at bars, and it’s only lively at night.

The place Yu Tan took Xia Jiao to was in a hidden old alley. The shops inside were either private dining clubs or traditional artisan shops selling clay sculptures or kites. Yu Tan bought a bunch of small items and split them with Xia Jiao. Originally, they had planned to visit a friend’s art exhibition, but unexpectedly ran into an old acquaintance.

Zhang Yunhe.

When they bumped into each other, Yu Tan and Xia Jiao were each carrying heavy bags. They were from Goya, which, though often mocked for looking like woven bags, probably wasn’t often used as such. Yu Tan just carried them, watching Zhang Yunhe hurriedly approach. She took the bag from Yu Tan’s hand and went to grab Xia Jiao’s. He was as quiet as ever, but when facing Yu Tan, he lowered his gaze respectfully and said, “Teacher.”

Yu Tan asked lightly, “Didn’t you say you were going to Guangzhou?”

“I just came back this morning,” Zhang Yunhe replied. “You come to Beijing and don’t even let me know.”

Yu Tan said, “I thought you were busy with work, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Zhang Yunhe’s car was parked outside. The road was narrow, so he walked ahead, respectfully saying, “The teacher’s matters are more important than work.”

— If Xia Jiao hadn’t seen the previous conflict between the teacher and student, or witnessed their confrontation an hour later, she might have genuinely thought this was a very close teacher-student relationship.

When they arrived at the art exhibition, it had already closed for the day.

The security guards had made sure everyone else had left, leaving only Yu Tan’s friend to accompany them, along with Xia Jiao and Zhang Yunhe. The friend didn’t seem arrogant or full of themselves. When Xia Jiao chatted with them, they even smiled and complimented her unique insights. Xia Jiao quietly translated in her head.

Hmm, this was probably the high emotional intelligence version of “Your comment is odd.”

Halfway through, Xia Jiao went to the restroom. When she came back, she saw Zhang Yunhe standing very close to Yu Tan. Zhang Yunhe raised his hand as if to touch Yu Tan’s face, but Yu Tan stiffly turned away, slapping his hand down hard.

She said, “I am your teacher.”

Xia Jiao took a few steps back and waited for two minutes. After hearing footsteps leave, she quietly walked out.

That evening, Zhang Yunhe drove them home. It was obvious that Wen Qiming knew Zhang Yunhe. Coincidentally, the family was preparing hot pot, so he invited Zhang Yunhe to stay.

Yu Tan didn’t say anything. She was still the familiar quiet person Xia Jiao knew, just sitting there. Wen Qiming had bought a house in Beijing for his parents, but after they passed away, it was given to Yu Tan to live in. It wasn’t far, just a ten-minute drive, so it was quite convenient.

Wen Qiming smiled and said that, in the past, starting from the first day of the “Nine-Nine^[1]The “Nine-Nine” refers to a traditional Chinese system for counting the days of winter, called “Shu Jiu” (数九). This system divides the coldest part of winter into nine … Continue reading” winter period, they would eat hot pot on the first day of each “Nine” and continue until the very last day. According to tradition, they had to eat hot pot at least ten times throughout the winter, with a different variety each time. The first “Nine” always featured mutton hot pot, followed by white meat hot pot, pheasant hot pot, and so on. By the final day of the “Nine-Nine” period, they would enjoy a special Yipin furnace meat hotpot.

There was a set of special eating utensils for that furnace meat hotpot displayed at the Forbidden City, made of tin.

Though it wasn’t yet time for the first “nine,” it didn’t stop them from having hotpot.

Also, Wen Chongyue had discussed it with his father, and this winter, he would accompany Xia Jiao to Yangzhou to celebrate the New Year. This was an agreement made before their marriage. Both were only children, and last year Xia Jiao had stayed in Beijing, but this year Wen Chongyue would go with her to reunite with her parents for the New Year.

Naturally, Wen Qiming didn’t mind. He reminded Wen Chongyue to visit often, as his health wasn’t bad, and since Suzhou and Yangzhou were not far apart, it wasn’t an issue.

The classic dish for hot pot was lamb, but Wen Chongyue mentioned to his father that Wen Qiming had not fully recovered, and since lamb is a hot food, it wasn’t suitable for someone in recovery. Today, they prepared an old-fashioned red copper hot pot with a partition in the middle: one side for mutton and the other for pork belly.

The lamb came from Xilin Gol League in Inner Mongolia. After castration, the lamb’s meat was tender with little odor. The best part for hot pot was the neck, tender and not greasy, followed by the hip part, which needed to be deboned. Finally, the front legs and the “cucumber strips” from the back legs were used.

A lamb only had these parts suitable for hot pot, and there wasn’t much, so Wen Chongyue bought it all and had a professional chef slice it thinly—about eighty slices from a pound, delicate and translucent, beautiful like flowers.

In addition to lamb and pork belly, there were napa cabbage, frozen tofu, spinach, potato slices, pickled cabbage…

When they got home, Wen Chongyue was finishing preparing the dipping sauces for the hot pot. There was sesame paste with a little salt mixed with cold boiled water; marinated chive flowers; Wang Zhihe’s fermented tofu, mashed with broth; chopped garlic, ginger, and scallions from Shandong; Shanxi vinegar; and freshly fried chili oil.

Everything was set.

There was also more than just hot pot. Two cold dishes were served: preserved eggs and a celery salad with dried shrimp. The hot dishes included stir-fried loofah with fresh walnuts, using walnuts from this year’s Mid-Autumn harvest, and stir-fried beef tenderloin with mustard greens. The staple food was sesame cakes, crispy and fragrant, with the sesame sticking to your lips.

The hot pot dinner had a sequence: first the meat, then the vegetables and tofu, and finally the vermicelli. The red copper pot was heated with charcoal, and the pot was tall. Wen Chongyue was concerned Xia Jiao might not be used to it and burn her hands—many people got burned every year, so he always fished it out first and handed it to her. Xia Jiao felt a little embarrassed, but no one teased her at the table, so she gradually relaxed.

After dinner, Zhang Yunhe gave them a ride home.

That night, they stayed here. Since the elderly had shallow sleep, Wen Chongyue and Xia Jiao didn’t make any noise and left for Suzhou the next noon.

The evening before Monday always felt particularly precious. After an intense battle—oh no, it was actually a friendly sparring match between residents of the North and South—came to an end, Wen Chongyue prepared hot water for Xia Jiao to take a bath, then he began making dinner.

First, he scooped out the peanuts that had been soaked right after he got home, removed their red skins, and blended them with glutinous rice to make a smooth paste. After filtering it, he added some sugar and slowly simmered it over low heat, stirring constantly until the mixture began bubbling. Only then did he stop.

Xia Jiao emerged from her bath just as the peanut milk was finished. Placing the drink on the table, she began sipping it while leaning close to Wen Chongyue, sniffing lightly. “Wen Chongyue.”

“Hmm?” Without looking up, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

He was planning to use the leftover peanut residue from making the milk to mix into some flour and make pancakes.

Having learned to cherish food, he rarely wasted anything.

Xia Jiao leaned closer and asked, “Has it always been the men in your family who cook?”

Wen Chongyue corrected her, “It’s our family—and yes, it’s always been the men who cook.”

Because of this, Yu Tan seldom cooked. When she was a child, she thought cooking was a man’s job. Later, her perspective changed somewhat, but all her boyfriends still took up the role of cooking, so she never really delved into the kitchen herself.

Xia Jiao sighed enviously. “If only I’d grown up in your—our family.”

Wen Chongyue called her, “Jiao Jiao.”

Xia Jiao responded, “Yes?”

“Although we’re not related by blood,” Wen Chongyue said gently, “you and I chose each other as family.”

Xia Jiao stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek softly. Carefully, she asked, “Then, Wen Chongyue, can we play the sibling game again today?”

Unexpectedly, her focus was on this. Wen Chongyue chuckled. “Of course. If you like, we can even play a master-servant game, or—”

He paused, leaning in to whisper two words into her ear.

Xia Jiao exclaimed, “No way! I’m not that perverted!”