Before going to bed at night, Mi Niang brought a bowl of warm water to sprinkle on the malt spread out in the winnowing basket. It had been soaking since last night, and with the high temperature in the kitchen, soaking overnight could activate the seeds’ vitality. In the morning, she rinsed them once before spreading them out in an empty room with a Kang.
Sprinkle water three or four times a day. After a day and night, the barley sprouted green shoots.
The next morning, Wan’er followed her in and exclaimed, “Didn’t they just sprout yesterday afternoon?”
“You can tell you’ve never farmed before,” Mi Niang chuckled at her. “With the right temperature and sufficient water, once the seeds sprout, they grow quickly.”
Wan’er had indeed never farmed before. Even planting vegetables was something she only learned after coming to the desert with Asyl. She mimicked Mi Niang’s actions of sprinkling water on the malt. “How tall does it need to grow before we can use it to make malt sugar?”
She pulled out a malt shoot and put it in her mouth, feeling bewildered and incredulous. Malt sugar made from malt shoots? These two things didn’t seem like they could be related at all.
Mi Niang held out her pinky finger. “Once it’s about this tall, it’s ready. It’ll be just about right by tomorrow morning.”
Among the six people, perhaps only Wan’er and Mu Xiang needed hands-on instruction. The others just needed a general idea, and there wouldn’t be any problems with sprouting the malt.
But Mu Xiang was so busy during the New Year that she didn’t have any free time to waste on making malt sugar.
“Mom, we’re awake,” Qiqige shouted from inside the house.
“Here they are.” Mi Niang heard the sound and walked out, asking Wan’er, “Your two children haven’t woken up yet?”
“They should be waking up soon. I’ll go check on them,” she replied, walking behind Mi Niang and casually closing the door.
She and Asyl slept with their two children in the backyard, right next to Ajima’s place. When she reached the backyard, she saw her son shoveling snow with a shovel. Feeling embarrassed for her husband who was still in bed, she barged in and scolded him, “Get up quickly! Even a ten-year-old boy next door is already sweeping the yard. Are you ashamed to lie in bed doing nothing?”
“What about my big brother?”
“He’s cooking,” Wan’er lifted Asyl’s blanket. “While you’re staying here these days, you should learn from Bahu. When we go back, I’ll enjoy some peace and quiet.”
Her husband smirked, put on his clothes, and went out, muttering, “If I don’t cook, neither do you. How is that enjoying peace and quiet?”
There was hot water on the stove, so Asyl quickly washed his face and brought half a basin of water into the house. “Should I go check the front yard first? See if my big brother needs my help.”
Passing by Ajima, he patted his shoulder. “You’re quite diligent, young man.”
When he reached the front yard, he saw that the snow had already been cleared, and the ice on the eaves had been knocked off. Smoke was rising from the kitchen, and upon entering, he saw that a pan of buttered cakes had already been made.
“Big brother, did you get up in the middle of the night?”
“Up already? Are the kids awake? They can eat as soon as they wash up,” Bahu wiped his oily hands and stood up to stir the bean congee in the pot. “They woke up early. It’s dark early and bright late in the winter in the Mobei. If you can’t sleep lying down, you might as well get up.” In the evening, they would go to bed shortly after dark and wake up early.
Asyl looked at the clean and neat yard again, realizing that he woke up early too. He could chat, daydream, and even doze off again with his eyes closed. At home, his mother would prepare breakfast, and his father would sweep the yard. Compared to Bahu, he realized how pampered he was.
“Is there anything for me to do?”
Bahu waved his hand, saying breakfast was simple, and he didn’t need any help.
“In that case, I’ll go to the backyard.” Asyl picked up the shovel leaning against the wall and went to help Ajima shovel the snow. He couldn’t let himself be outdone by a child.
As for the other person living in the backyard, Uncle Muren had risen even earlier than Bahu. By the time Bahu opened the door, Uncle Muren had already boiled water and was making butter tea. However, he was making a big pot of rice porridge. When he went to call people to eat at the sheepfold, Bahu also called people to eat.
The breakfast consisted of butter pancakes, thick bean congee, a plate of scrambled eggs with greens, a dish of fried peanuts, a plate of green onion tofu salad, and a plate of steamed blood sausages. This was the morning meal for the two families.
The blood sausages were brought by Pandi.
“We’re going to ChaoBao’s house for lunch, so I made a light breakfast. It’ll be another two hours until noon, so I’m not worried about getting hungry after eating something light,” she said.
“This is the most authentic breakfast from the Central Plains. You can tell it’s what Honey often eats,” Wan’er sighed, picking up some greens with her chopsticks and putting them in her bowl of congee. When she ate at her in-laws’ house, they replaced soup with butter tea. There were six people in the family, and apart from her, everyone had a taste for the Mobei’s cuisine and couldn’t do without beef and mutton in the morning. But as long as she didn’t have to cook, she didn’t mind any food.
Mi Niang glanced at Bahu. She had only been married to him for half a year, but as long as she wasn’t the one making breakfast, it would consist of a pot of stewed meat, a plate of butter pancakes, and a pot of butter tea.
The four children each had two butter pancakes, while Mi Niang and Wan’er each had one. The remaining pancakes went into the stomachs of the two men, along with the congee. They finished all four dishes, put down their chopsticks, and patted their stomachs, saying they were only seven or eight parts full.
“Their appetites are even bigger than our pigs’,” Mi Niang cleaned up the bowls and chopsticks, wondering, “They eat meat every day and have plenty of fat in their stomachs, so why do they still eat so much?” She suspected the two men were competing to eat. She knew Bahu’s appetite well, and he wouldn’t eat so much on a normal day.
“It’s cold in winter, so we get hungry quickly and eat a lot. We don’t eat as much when it’s hot,” Asyl said, holding his younger son in his arms. He praised, “It’s also because of my big brother’s cooking skills. The pancake crust is crispy and crunchy, while the inside is soft and chewy. Paired with the perfectly seasoned dishes, I have a big appetite.”
After the two men took the children to the sheep pen, Wan’er couldn’t help but sneer at how Asyl always ate too much. “He’s really childish. He’s in his twenties and still wants to outdo everyone in appetite.”
“Eating too much?”
“Yeah, his usual appetite is about five or six butter pancakes, and he can eat two more when he’s hungry.” She scoffed at the idea that he ate more in winter because he got hungry quickly.
“Bahu ate too much too,” Mi Niang chuckled. “Why are they so competitive about their appetites?”
“Who knows.”
After tidying up the house, Mi Niang and Wan’er went to Bai Mei’s house to help with cooking. Pandi, Ying Niang, and Mu Xiang were still busy cleaning the sheep pen and feeding the cattle and sheep, and by the time they were done, it was almost noon.
“I don’t have Mi Niang’s cooking skills, so I just stewed some mutton, braised a fish, fried some lamb ribs, and ChaoBao even roasted a leg of lamb. Don’t be picky,” Bai Mei politely invited everyone. “This is the first time you’ve come to my house for a meal since I got married.”
“With such a feast, who would complain? Anyway, I won’t complain. As long as there’s food, I could come here every day. By then, you might hear my voice and run away before seeing me,” Asyl joked, making everyone laugh, and no one bothered with formalities anymore.
“What about your parents-in-law?” Mi Niang asked. “Should we invite them to join us for the meal?”
“They went to my brother’s house. They said they’re all young people, so they won’t come to join the fun,” ChaoBao said as he placed the fragrant and glossy roasted leg of lamb on the table. “Everyone, sit down and start eating. Don’t dawdle, or the food will get cold.”
As soon as Mi Niang picked up her chopsticks, she kept an eye on Bahu. Sure enough, he couldn’t finish his meal halfway through. He took several bites of a piece of radish, and most of the scallions and garlic from the dishes ended up in his mouth. Holding a bowl of butter tea as a pretext, he occasionally took a sip, wetting his lips.
She passed the meat to Habul. “You feed him.” It wasn’t just the youngest son; after Qiqige and Jiya played for a while and then asked for food, she also tidied them up and had him feed them.
Bahu smiled gratefully at her and looked back at Asyl. He had also picked up a child to feed, but he could only feed one, and he had three!
After sending off the guests at the table, Bai Mei’s face collapsed. She pointed to the leftovers on the table and asked ChaoBao to clean up. When Mi Niang and the others offered to help earlier, she refused, leaving it specifically for him.
ChaoBao, sensing her mood, cursed Asyl and Bahu inwardly but took the task gracefully. “If you’re tired, go rest. I’ll wash the pots and pans. If you’re sleepy, take a nap, and I’ll cook dinner.”
If it weren’t for knowing Bahu’s character, he would have suspected that the two of them had conspired to act crazy today. Yesterday at dinner, not one of them acted like filial children, feeding their kids.
“You’ve been working at Bahu’s house for five years. You know how the couple gets along. I’m not asking for a perfect understanding, but at least you know a bit about it. I’m not expecting you to be like Bahu, but from now on, we split the household chores equally. I’ll do the laundry, and you cook. I cook, you do the dishes,” Bai Mei took the opportunity to make a request.
ChaoBao nodded. He wasn’t oblivious; during his years of servitude, Bai Mei had been managing everything at home. Sometimes, she even did more work than him.
“I’ll follow your lead. You go rest; I’ll tidy up,” he said.
Bai Mei was satisfied. She sighed and went into the kitchen to wash her hands and face. After coming out, instead of lying down, she took a broom to sweep the floor and fed the bones to the dogs.
Seeing ChaoBao wiping the table with a cloth, she felt a bit embarrassed and said irritably, “I’m just a hardworking woman.”
“Thank you for your hard work. What dish would you like for dinner tonight? I’ll make it for you,” ChaoBao offered.
“Let’s just have a steamed egg custard,” Bai Mei chose the simplest option.
In an ordinary marriage, sweet words were rare. They advanced and retreated, their conversations hidden within their daily meals.
…
On the day when Pandi treated them, Mi Niang and Wan’er got up early. They washed the two baskets of malt thoroughly in a wooden basin filled with warm water. The glutinous rice had also been soaked overnight and was now piled up on a bamboo sieve for steaming.
“Chop the malt finely, bit by bit,” Wan’er instructed.
With the cutting board placed in the wooden basin, the malt was piled on top of it, and the two women squatted on the ground, pressing down on the malt and chopping it bit by bit. They took turns cutting, and occasionally, Pandi would come over to take a look.
“Do you really not want our help?” Mi Niang asked.
“No, I washed and cleaned the vegetables yesterday afternoon, gutted the fish, and chopped the meat. All that’s left is to stew them. Ying Niang is keeping an eye on the fire for me,” Pandi leaned against the door frame. She had nothing else to do, so there was no need for anyone else’s help.
“You’re getting more capable now,” Wan’er admired.
“That’s right,” Pandi accepted the praise with pleasure, not feeling the least bit undeserving.
The malt was chopped, and the glutinous rice was steamed. After covering the pot to let it cool down, the three of them went to Pandi’s house for a round before returning. Then they mixed the glutinous rice and malt together, adding some warm water to mix evenly.
“We’re done with the morning’s work. Give me a hand and carry the basin into the house,” Mi Niang lifted the pot lid and covered the wooden basin, “Let it ferment for two hours, and then we can start making maltose after lunch.”
“Is it that simple? So easy?” Wan’er lifted the pot lid to take a look, unable to understand how this watery mixture could be turned into sticky, sweet maltose.
With that thought lingering in her mind, after eating at Pandi’s house and helping tidy up the kitchen, all six of them hurried to Mi Niang’s house.
The sticky glutinous rice had softened, with nearly half a basin of murky water accumulated in the basin. They poured out the rice and malt and then poured the water into the pot.
“Bring it to a boil over high heat,” Mi Niang covered the pot and let Ying Niang boil the water over high heat. Once the water in the pot was boiling, they reduced the heat to low. When the syrup changed color, they had to continuously stir it with a spoon. They took turns doing this, and halfway through, someone came to find Mu Xiang, so she left first.
“Don’t cook tomorrow at noon. Come to my house instead,” she reminded them as she left.
“We know, we know. Tomorrow, we’ll bring you some freshly made maltose,” they replied.
As the sky outside darkened, half a pot of water was still boiling. Pandi used a spoon to pick up a little to see if it was ready to be pulled into threads, then asked Mi Niang, “Is it ready yet?”
“It’s still far from ready. I estimate it’ll need another hour or two of simmering,” Mi Niang replaced Ying Niang, tending to the fire herself. She instructed the others, “Especially at this stage, we need to keep the heat low. If the fire is too high, the syrup will burn and stick to the pot. When it’s done, the maltose will also have a bitter taste.”
“I’ll go back to cook. There are leftovers from lunch, so I’ll reheat them and bring them over. We can eat together. We’ll just make do tonight,” after waiting for a while, Pandi didn’t want to risk ruining another pot of syrup over a meal, “Before, when you said it was laborious and time-consuming, I didn’t think it’d be this much trouble. Now, looking at it again, making this stuff really does take time and effort.”
Mi Niang smiled, “The real trouble is still ahead.”
Bahu didn’t eat leftovers, so when he heard they would be making do with a meal, he took Asyl to eat with the servants, “Are you overwhelmed? You should go tell the old man. He can make a bit more food.”
Mi Niang tapped her head, realizing, “I forgot about that. He’s getting used to being the master. You two go eat, take the children with you, and wash them over there after the meal.”
Then she sent Ying Niang to tell Pandi to prepare less food, “A bowl of noodles per person should be enough. Let her estimate it, so she doesn’t cook too much.”
“Alright,” Ying Niang went and soon returned with a basin of leftovers.
“I’ll go too,” Bai Mei was about to leave.
“No need to, I’ve brought everything,” Pandi brought a basin of hot noodles over, “I’ve already eaten. I’ll stir the pot, and you can eat.”
Five people were either squatting or sitting, eating their meal or tending to the fire. The sweet aroma mingled with the savory scent of meat and vegetables, flowing out through the doors and windows, melting the snowflakes that drifted down, creating a steady drip-drip in the gutter.
As the snowfall grew heavier, ChaoBao, wearing a raincoat, came to fetch Bai Mei. “It’s so late. When are you going back?”
Bai Mei glanced at the deep brown syrup in the pot, then at the several people who were still energetic despite staying up late to cook the syrup. She waved her hand and said, “I’m not going back tonight. If I don’t sleep at Mi Niang’s, I’ll sleep at Pandi’s. Take care of our son, and remember to wake him up to pee at night.”
“This…,” ChaoBao took a step inside, “I’ll wait a little longer then. I’ll wait for you to go back together.”
“We’re an old married couple, and you’re still so clingy?” Pandi teased, “Mi Niang said it’ll take quite a while. You go back by yourself. Tonight, Bai Mei and Ying Niang will sleep at my place, and the three of us will sleep together. We won’t lose your wife.”
ChaoBao blushed at her words, mumbled a few unclear words, then turned and left, probably just outside the door before turning back again. “Really not going back? How about I come back to get you later?”
“Oh, my,” Mi Niang and the others teased, enjoying the spectacle.
Feeling both embarrassed and touched, Bai Mei’s face flushed with warmth. Her cheeks were so hot they could cook syrup, but she still insisted on not going back. “I’ll sleep with Pandi. I’ll go back tomorrow.”
After ChaoBao left, she awkwardly changed the subject, fearing more teasing. “Is the syrup in the pot ready to be taken out?”
Indeed, it was. Mi Niang quickly grabbed an oiled bowl and scooped the syrup into it. She stirred the remaining syrup in the pot with chopsticks. “After all this hard work, everyone has a sweet tooth.”
She took out the wooden stick that had been boiling in the water in the back of the pot and tied it to the chair. Then she carried the syrup outside and walked around the yard a few times. The surface of the syrup hardened, forming an impression when pressed, resembling dough.
“Now comes the hard part, the repeated pulling and stretching. Before, it was always Bahu who did this,” Mi Niang said, instructing Bai Mei to step on the chair while she wrapped the syrup around the wooden stick. They pulled and stretched it repeatedly. When Mi Niang got tired, she switched with Wan’er. All five took turns. The brown syrup gradually turned yellow and then white, gaining elasticity and taking on the semblance of maltose.
Rice flour was sprinkled on the table, crushed hazelnuts were added to the syrup, and it was kneaded and pulled into long strips, then cut into pieces to finish.
“Let’s leave it like this for now. We’ll cut wax paper to wrap the candy in the morning.” Tired and weary, Mi Niang couldn’t muster any more energy.
The village had already quieted down, with no candlelights in sight. Mi Niang bid farewell to Pandi and the others closed the door and washed her face and feet with Wan’er.
“This year’s New Year feels like a real New Year,” Wan’er yawned but still looked happy. She murmured about being married far away. “You guys are all near Wahu Lake, especially Pandi, who lives next door to you. It’s so convenient to visit each other.”
Mi Niang also felt the day was lively. It was evident that Pandi, Ying Niang, and Bai Mei were happy too; otherwise, Bai Mei wouldn’t have stayed away from home. She wanted to sleep at her sister’s place, which showed she cherished their friendship.
“In the future, you can come often. The distance between us isn’t too far, and we have transportation, so it’s convenient,” Wan’er suggested.
Wan’er shook her head, lifted the basin, and poured the water against the base of the wall. Unlike Mi Niang, she couldn’t afford to be carefree. She had two elderly people to take care of, not to mention Bahu, his siblings, and their tribe, and she had to maintain relations with them.
“Let’s go to sleep,” she rubbed her hands and headed out. “I’m planning to sleep in tomorrow morning, so don’t bother calling me for breakfast.”
Mi Niang was also prepared for this. She first went to wake up the three children to use the bathroom before returning to bed. Bahu left a lamp for her; he was already fast asleep, with a shoe sole placed beside his pillow, with needles stuck in it.
The movement under the covers startled him. He turned over and glanced outside. “Done with everything?”
“Yeah, let’s not talk and go back to sleep,” Mi Niang said, not in the mood for further conversation.
“You seem to be in high spirits,” Bahu said, reaching out to hold her and sniffing her. “You smell sweet all over.”
“Don’t call me for breakfast tomorrow; I want to sleep until I wake up naturally.”
Bahu agreed, as there wasn’t much to do in winter anyway, so sleeping as much as they liked was fine.
