Chapter 67

“Mr. Wangwo’s award made the papers!” Zhenzhen ran all the way back shouting the news, but it was winter, the wind was strong, and the windows were tightly shut, so no one heard her until she stepped into the little building and repeated it again.

“Wangwo’s award announcement was released?”

“Where’s the newspaper? Let me see it!”

In no time, everyone in the little building came down and surrounded Zhenzhen. She beamed and handed out the various newspapers she had bought: “There’s not a lot of detail in the papers, but at least they’ve acknowledged Mr. Wangwo’s title of ‘People’s Artist’ and his standing in the world of literature.”

“That’s wonderful.” Su Weiran read the paper, grinning from ear to ear. The Peking Opera master, Xie Shurang, was smiling so much his eyes crinkled: “We must celebrate such good news! Even if it risks hurting my voice, I’ll still drink with everyone tonight!”

The archaeologist Xu Mengguo nodded with a smile but reminded everyone seriously, “Although Wangwo received the award, the forces trying to suppress us won’t back down so easily. We may still face some tough days ahead.”

Su Weiran smiled calmly, “What’s so hard about it? Here, we rise with the sun and rest with it. We chat with the learned, and there’s not a single dull person around. No bothersome social obligations either—it’s more carefree than a god’s life.”

Xu Mengguo chuckled and shook his head, “You’re able to write here, but I’m in archaeology. I can’t exactly go digging around for ancient tombs in this place, can I?”

Su Weiran said, “Right now, with the ‘Four Olds’ being destroyed, even outside you can’t continue your archaeological work. Worse, you’d be heartbroken seeing tombs and temples being destroyed—you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.”

Renowned traditional doctor Zhang Renzhe pointed at Xu Mengguo and said, “You’re just destined to be busy. Still, it’s a blessing that Zhenzhen is willing to learn about antiques from you. At least you have a successor.”

Xie Shurang nodded, “If Zhenzhen were willing to learn opera from me, I’d happily live here the rest of my life. That girl’s got a golden voice, such a waste that she’s not interested.”

Zhenzhen grinned and showed him her not-yet-fully-grown teeth, “I still have gaps when I talk—how could I sing opera? Please spare me, Master Xie.”

Everyone burst into laughter. The skilled physician Li Rangong rolled up his sleeves and headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. “Didn’t we say we’d celebrate properly today? I’ll cook up some medicinal dishes for everyone.”

Xu Mengguo immediately said with a grin, “Then we’re in for a treat. I’ll go catch a couple of wild rabbits. If I run into any mountain goats, even better. They’re great for nourishment in winter.”

To help everyone live better in the mountains, Zhenzhen had released a number of wild chickens, rabbits, and mountain goats into the surrounding hills, and planted many herbs in easily accessible areas.

Watching everyone busy with their tasks, Zhenzhen smiled, said her goodbyes, and left. Before going, she used her awareness to glance at Xu Mengguo, who was climbing the mountain with a rifle—and gently guided a mountain goat into his line of sight…

Because of the news of Wangwo’s award, Zhenzhen was so excited that she wanted to celebrate with a feast. After a few teleportations, she reached the southernmost island of Huaguo, found a deserted stretch of beach, took out two buckets from her storage space, and placed them into the seawater. Lobsters, abalone, scallops, crabs, sea cucumbers, and sea urchins surged toward the shore with the current, quickly filling both buckets. Zhenzhen looked at the haul and felt something was still missing, so she stashed it all away and pulled out another empty bucket. She found a rocky shore and picked a whole bucket of oysters.

These delicacies couldn’t be taken home to share with her family—their origin would be too hard to explain. So, Zhenzhen had no choice but to cook up a seafood feast for herself. It was the dead of winter and snow-covered back in Beicha, but here at the southernmost tip of Huaguo, Zhenzhen could comfortably wear just a tank top and shorts.

Sunshine, waves, sand—faced with such beautiful scenery, Zhenzhen didn’t want to cook inside her storage space. After confirming that there wasn’t a soul within dozens of miles, she boldly took out a gas stove and another clay stove, then built a simple grill using some wood.

Seafood fresh from the ocean is delicious no matter how you cook it. The crabs were rinsed and steamed directly. The scallops and oysters—each larger than her palm—were scrubbed clean of sand, then sprinkled with minced garlic and placed directly over the fire. Sea urchins didn’t even need to be cooked; cracked open and eaten raw, they offered the most exquisite flavor. Zhenzhen licked her lips—if only she had some wasabi, it would’ve been perfect.

She minced ginger and mixed it with vinegar and sesame oil for dipping sauce. By then, the crabs were cooked. Turning off the stove, Zhenzhen picked up a crab, cracked off its top shell, revealing a rich, golden crab roe inside. She removed the gills, split the crab in half, and just as she saw the roe threatening to spill out, she couldn’t wait any longer and took a big bite. The mix of roe and meat was so fresh and flavorful, it nearly made her swallow her tongue.

After eating the crab meat and roe from the soft shell, she finally dipped a piece into the ginger-vinegar sauce. The tang of the sauce eliminated any fishy smell while enhancing the natural taste.

After one crab, Zhenzhen burped, then eagerly lifted the lid to grab a male crab. Its semi-translucent crab fat had a silky texture and, combined with the meat, was incredibly tender and fresh. With two large crabs in her belly, Zhenzhen was already getting full. But smelling the garlic mingled with seafood over the fire, she felt—she could definitely go for another dozen.

She pulled on thick gloves and carefully transferred the grilled scallops and oysters to the table. Gently prying open an oyster shell, she saw the garlic and oyster flesh had melded together. She brought it to her mouth and slurped the whole thing in. The just-grilled oyster was tender and juicy, with a sweet, savory flavor, enhanced by the mildly spicy garlic and salty broth. Zhenzhen’s mouth watered—it was simply irresistible.

She devoured eight giant scallops and oysters in under ten minutes. Standing up and looking at her slightly bulging belly under her tank top, she licked her lips in satisfaction: “Good thing I’ve got teleportation. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have gotten to eat seafood once before turning twenty.”

Seeing the sun already tilting westward, Zhenzhen packed all her things into her space. After going inside to wash her hands, she glanced at the small pool filled with lobsters and seafood but felt it wasn’t enough. So, she grabbed a bucket and went out again, bringing back a good haul of seafood and fish. Since it wasn’t often she got the chance to come out here, she figured she should take back as much as possible.

Zhenzhen bundled up in thick cotton-padded clothes, and by the time she got home, it was almost dark. She took two large yellow croakers out from her space and walked into the house.

“Nai, I went ice fishing this afternoon. The fish I caught this time—I’ve never seen them before. Let’s stew them for dinner, yeah?” Zhenzhen grinned as she placed the fish in the kitchen. Before Grandma Li could scold her, she wrapped her arms around her waist in a coy hug. “I went a bit too far this time. I’ll come home earlier next time.”

Grandma Li tapped Zhenzhen’s nose, chuckling despite herself. “You talk all sweet, but wet the bed with empty promises. Always giving me guarantees, and once you’re out playing, they’re gone with the wind. You think I believe you?”

Zhenzhen gave a sheepish laugh and turned to Wang Sufen, who was cleaning the fish. “Mom, don’t braise this fish with soy sauce. It’s super fresh—just steam it. I’ll whip up a sauce to pour over it after.”

Wang Sufen told Mingbei to hang one of the fish in the storeroom, then cleaned and placed the other in the big steamer pot. She glanced at Zhenzhen. “You never cooked a day growing up, and now you’re making sauce?”

Zhenzhen washed her hands and rolled up her sleeves as she stepped into the kitchen. “I may not know how to cook, but I know how to eat. I just make it taste like how I want it to taste. It’s not like I need to handle knives or fire—how hard can it be?”

“You’re something else.” Wang Sufen still didn’t quite believe her. “Alright then, let me see what you’re gonna do.”

Zhenzhen scooped a few spoons of soy sauce into a bowl. Since the soy sauce these days was super salty, she diluted it with some cooled boiled water, added a splash of vinegar, some chopped scallions and ginger, then half a spoon of sugar, and finally drizzled in a bit of sesame oil.

Wang Sufen winced at the sesame oil, her face twitching with heartache. “We only got two taels’ worth of sesame oil coupons for New Year. Just a drop is enough, don’t go wasting it.”

Zhenzhen looked into the bowl with an innocent face. “This is a drop. Size of a soybean, see?”

“Alright, alright. Are you done?” Wang Sufen lifted the lid— the fish was fully steamed.

Zhenzhen grabbed a scallion from the corner and handed it to her. “Mom, slice this whole scallion into thin strips.”

“The whole thing?” Wang Sufen washed it and tried to bargain. “That’s wasteful—why not just chop up a bit?”

Seeing everyone was inside, Zhenzhen leaned close and whispered, “It’s fine. If we run out, I’ll grow you more.”

Seeing her daughter winking mischievously, Wang Sufen couldn’t help laughing. “Fine, fine, whatever you say.”

She placed the scallion strips on top of the steamed fish, poured the sauce over it, and then drizzled hot oil on top. With a loud sizzle, the fragrance wafted up. While the oil was still dancing over the fish, Wang Sufen brought the scallion-oil steamed fish to the table. “Come try it. Zhenzhen caught this fish this afternoon—we’ve never seen this kind before.”

Grandma Li picked up a piece with her chopsticks, chewed, and smacked her lips. “Dongzi’s mom, did you forget to add salt?”

“Isn’t that the truth.” Wang Sufen put down her chopsticks and went to grab the plate. “Zhenzhen kept bossing me around—had me all flustered.”

Zhenzhen quickly held her back. “No need for salt. I put soy sauce in the sauce. Nai, dip it in the soup.”

Grandma Li tried a piece dipped in the sauce and finally nodded. “Alright, that works. Still a bit bland, but the flavor is really fresh.”

In these days, people were tired of bland, watery dishes. Rich and heavy flavors were considered tasty. But the freshly caught yellow croaker, if cooked with too much sauce, would lose its natural flavor—Zhenzhen felt that would be a waste.

The meat of the yellow croaker was tender and had few bones. After a few bites, the whole family noticed how good it was. Wang Sufen had planned to pick bones out for Doubao, but after searching for a while and finding barely any, she happily added more pieces to the bowls of Zhenzhen, Roubao, and Doubao. “This fish is great—tender and no bones. How come we never caught it before?”

Guihua remembered the big salmon Zhenzhen once brought back long ago and guessed, “Maybe it swam in from some tributary. Our Yongcui River connects all over—you often catch strange fish or shrimp. Remember that year when Old Zhang’s family caught that huge softshell turtle?”

Zhenzhen’s mind stirred. It gave her an idea for how to introduce the big lobster. So the next day, when she brought out the giant, claw-waving lobster, the whole family was stunned.

“Oh my, that crayfish must have cultivated into a spirit! How did it get so big?”

Wang Sufen stared at the huge claws, too scared to touch it. “It’s too big—it might not cook through. Zhenzhen, maybe we should let it go.”

Thinking about that tender, fragrant lobster meat, Zhenzhen swallowed hard. “Mom, there’s definitely a lot of meat in this one. It’s fine—if you don’t want to do it, I’ll teach you.”

Seeing her daughter’s eyes fixed on the “giant crayfish,” Wang Sufen finally steeled herself and followed Zhenzhen’s instructions to steam it. Since its size far exceeded everyone’s expectations, when the garlic-steamed lobster was brought to the table, only Mingbei, Zhenzhen, Roubao, and Doubao dared to pick up their chopsticks.

The meat was so tender and fresh that Zhenzhen squinted in bliss. “It’s so good. So fresh and soft—definitely not the same flavor as summer crayfish. You guys have to try!” Seeing everyone frozen, she quickly picked up a piece for each of them. “It’s rare to find a crayfish this big. Who knows when we’ll get another chance?”

Seeing Mingbei eating nonstop and Roubao and Doubao reaching for more, the others finally tried a bite—and were instantly amazed.

“Didn’t expect crayfish this big to be even more tender than before!”

“No kidding! Zhenzhen, where did you get it? Let’s go look tomorrow and see if we can find more!”

“Oh please, who knows where it’s been hiding all these years. Finding just one like this is already a miracle.”

Zhenzhen watched with a smile as the family devoured the more than two jin of lobster. Doubao licked his lips and looked eagerly at Zhenzhen. “Auntie, I saw the lobster head is still in the kitchen. Can we stew that tomorrow?”

Zhenzhen chuckled and rubbed his little round head. “Look at you, such a glutton—just like me.”

—

After the twentieth day of the Lunar New Year, Mingdong took his family back to Anbei. Zhenzhen unpacked the biscuits from the mansion and wrapped them in paper, putting them in the small bag on Roubao’s back. “These are bulk biscuits your aunt bought at the hydrolysis plant. Eat them on the train if you get hungry.”

Tears streamed down Roubao’s face as he wiped his eyes. “Little Auntie, I really like you. Why don’t I just stay home with you and go up the mountains and down the rivers together? What if you’re scared all alone?”

Zhenzhen smiled and pinched his soft chubby cheek. “Do you like me or do you just like the food? Don’t worry, you’ll be back for summer vacation. When you come home in the summer, I’ll teach you the secrets of fishing. No one in the Li family is better than me at fishing.”

Just thinking about learning fishing from Zhenzhen made Roubao nod quickly. He wiped his tears and hooked pinkies with Zhenzhen before being led away by his dad, looking back every few steps.

After Mingdong’s family returned to Anbei, the house was much quieter without the two noisy kids. Seeing that they’d used up a lot of firewood during the New Year, Mingbei hauled back more from the mountains. On the nineteenth day of the new year, he carried bedding, soybean paste, pickled vegetables, and a thick hemp rope and headed to the youth commune.

As spring bloomed, Mingnan’s wedding was put on the agenda. The large boxes, kang piano, tables, and stools made by the carpenter were brought back and set up. Zhenzhen also brought back a few of her own paintings from the capital and handed them to Mingnan mysteriously.

“What’s this?” Mingnan looked at the rolled-up paintings in confusion. When he unrolled one and saw lotuses swaying in the wind, his eyes widened. “This painting is for me?”

Seeing Zhenzhen nodding with a grin, he excitedly opened the rest—plum blossoms, narcissus, peonies, Chinese peonies, chrysanthemums… each one unique, elegant and vivid without being gaudy.

“Little Sis, where did you get these? They look better than the ones on Big Brother’s kang piano!” Mingnan’s eyes were glued to the paintings, reluctant to put any of them down.

“I once saved an old man with a broken leg up in the mountains—he could paint. When I took him home, I noticed the walls full of paintings and made a mental note. I was going to be the kind of hero who does good deeds without leaving a name, but for you, I thickened my skin and asked him for a few paintings to decorate your kang piano.” Zhenzhen rubbed her nose and added, “Don’t go telling anyone about this, okay?”

“I won’t.” Mingnan happily held the paintings up to the kang piano to size them. “I’m going to buy glass right now. I’ve been saving glass coupons forever and thought they’d go to waste.”

With paintings mounted, the walls whitewashed, a Chairman Mao portrait hung up, and a big glass mirror on the wall, the new house was ready.

The wedding was set for the end of July. By then, it was already hot, and the vegetables from their fields were ready to eat. Living at the foot of the mountain by the river, they didn’t have to worry about meat or fish either.

Three days before the wedding, Li Mulin’s family rushed back from Bingcheng, and Mingdong also returned from Anbei with four-month-pregnant Guihua, Roubao, and Doubao. As soon as Grandma Li saw Guihua’s belly, she laughed and whispered to Wang Sufen, “I told you! During the New Year when those two went through so much toilet paper, someone was bound to get pregnant. See? I was right!”

Wang Sufen couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Mom, don’t say that in front of Guihua. She might be the mom of two kids, but she’s still shy about that stuff.”

“I know,” Grandma Li said with a grin. “Tonight, have Roubao and Doubao sleep in the front room again so they don’t kick Guihua’s belly.”

Back home, Roubao greeted everyone and then clung tightly to Zhenzhen. “Little Auntie, you said you’d take me up the mountain and to the river. You can’t go back on your word.”

Zhenzhen was just getting ready to catch some fish in the river for the wedding banquet. Hearing Roubao wanted to come along, she handed him a bucket. “Alright, today Auntie will teach you how to fish.”

The aunt-nephew duo headed to the big river. Lots of little kids were already swimming naked in the water. Roubao looked tempted—he took off his shoes, rolled up his pants, and started kicking at the water from the edge.

“Wanna swim?” Zhenzhen put their stuff down and glanced at him. Roubao immediately nodded and asked eagerly, “Can I?”

He was already seven years old. Zhenzhen had learned to swim at that age in her past life. She gave him a look and said, “Take off your shirt, but keep your underpants on—no skinny dipping.”

Zhenzhen set her shirt aside and tied a knot in her vest to keep it from floating up in the water. She led Roubao through warm-up stretches on the shore before they slowly walked into the river.

Kids of this era learned to swim by dog-paddling—no technique, just don’t drown. But in her past life, Zhenzhen had taken proper swimming lessons every summer: breaststroke, butterfly, freestyle—she knew them all. After years living near the big river and with her supernatural powers, she swam like a fish.

Holding Roubao’s hand, Zhenzhen stepped into the water and started by teaching him how to float. Roubao, watching the splashing boys nearby, began to kick and flail too—splashing water all over Zhenzhen’s face. The two of them played in the shallow water the whole afternoon, only getting out once the sun lost its heat.

Pretending to rummage in the bucket, Zhenzhen actually pulled a towel from her space. They dried off and got dressed. That’s when Roubao suddenly remembered their mission. “Auntie, we forgot to fish!”

Zhenzhen laughed and picked up the fishing rod. “Don’t worry, your aunt’s got this.”

She baited the hook and cast the line into the river. Within minutes, the rod dipped—Zhenzhen instantly reeled it in, and a large, wriggling carp leapt out of the water.

“Wow, Auntie, you’re amazing!” Roubao’s eyes sparkled with admiration. “When I grow up, I want to marry someone as awesome as you—then I can eat fish every day!”

Zhenzhen looked at Roubao’s serious little face and couldn’t help but burst into a smile, her eyes crinkling: “You’ve got ambition, huh? But why don’t you think about you catching fish to feed your wife instead?”

Roubao froze for a moment, then scratched his head sheepishly. “I just forgot, that’s all.” He immediately squatted down beside Zhenzhen, watching closely as she baited the hook. “Auntie, let me try this time, okay? Teach me—if I had your skills, I’d definitely never have to worry about finding a wife.”

Zhenzhen laughed so hard she could hardly breathe. “You sure switched tracks fast.”

Zhenzhen’s bait was specially made, and with her powers to help, it didn’t take the two of them half an hour to catch eight fish—carp, grass carp, silver carp—each one plump and lively. The smallest was over two jin, the biggest around four or five.

As the two walked into the courtyard with a full bucket of fish, Zhenzhen spotted a figure in army green inside the house.

“Second Brother, you’re back?” Zhenzhen dropped the bucket and ran toward the yard.

Mingxi turned around and smiled at her from the window. “Wild girl, where’ve you been off raising hell this time?”

—

Author’s Note:

Speaking of funny stories about my little uncle, there’s another one. One day, my mom had a fight with him, and she refused to help him buy sesame flatbread after school, no matter what. So he didn’t eat dinner that night. Around midnight, he got so hungry he had to get up and look for food.

At the time, my grandma kept a chicken nest in the kitchen, and above it was a cupboard where bowls were stored. So my uncle turned on the light in the middle of the night and stood in front of the chicken nest to reach for the cupboard.

It was summer, and he slept naked. The light startled one of the hens awake—it stuck its head out and pecked him right on the you-know-what.

His scream in the dead of night practically shook the roof off. It woke up the entire family. My mom said she laughed about that for half a month straight.