Chapter 80

When Zhenzhen arrived at Mr. Zhang’s house, Zhang Renzhe was already neatly dressed and ready to head out. Seeing Zhenzhen looking full of energy with rosy cheeks, a satisfied smile appeared on his face. He chuckled and asked, “Zhenzhen, did you go for a run this morning?”

“I did.” Zhenzhen casually took the basket from Zhang Renzhe’s hand and replied with a smile, “I ran a lap around the backyard fields this morning and also studied some French.”

Zhang Renzhe nodded with gratification. “That’s the way it should be—young people should be full of vitality, like the rising sun.” Dressed in a tank top, shorts, and holding a big palm-leaf fan, he didn’t look at all like the renowned physician known as a master of traditional Chinese medicine.

Nowadays, with the national policy fully opening up to private ownership, while purchases from supply and marketing cooperatives, shops, grain stores, and grocery stores still required ration tickets, small spontaneous markets had started to appear. These sold homegrown vegetables, poultry, fish, and eggs. Although slightly pricier, the benefit was that no tickets were needed, and everything was fresher.

When Zhang Renzhe and Zhenzhen arrived at the little market with their basket, it was bustling with people. The sounds of vendors calling out and customers bargaining filled the air. The crowd turned the originally quiet and ordinary alley into a hub of lively commotion.

Although Zhenzhen had occasionally gone to supermarkets to buy groceries in her previous life, she had been growing her own food in this one. It was her first time shopping at a market like this, and she found it quite novel.

Mr. Zhang, however, was very familiar with the place. He led Zhenzhen deep into the alley with practiced ease, where vendors sold home-raised chickens and ducks, and even fish freshly caught from the lake.

He stopped at a poultry stall, picked up a chicken and squeezed it here and there, quickly choosing the plumpest one. He then selected a duck, bought some vegetables, and headed home with Zhenzhen.

Zhenzhen had been up early, running and practicing French, and was now starving. As soon as they got home, she set the groceries aside and eagerly asked, “Sir, what are we having for breakfast?”

Mr. Zhang smiled at her. “I already made it. Go wash your hands first.”

“Okay!” At the mention of food, Zhenzhen immediately perked up. She ran to the sink in the courtyard, turned on the faucet, and washed her face and hands. In her hurry, she didn’t even bother with a towel—just wiped her hands and let them air dry.

By then, Mr. Zhang had already brought a small table out into the courtyard. He carried out a clay pot from the kitchen. Zhenzhen’s eyes lit up, and she rushed over, lifting the lid eagerly. “Sir, what did you cook?”

As the lid came off, a rich aroma of rice mixed with the refreshing scent of lotus leaf wafted out. Zhenzhen took a deep breath and looked down to see light green congee topped with bright red goji berries. Just the color combination was enough to whet the appetite.

Zhenzhen inhaled deeply, a blissful smile on her face. “It smells amazing!”

“This is lotus leaf and goji berry congee—great for dispelling summer heat and moisture. Perfect for this season.” Mr. Zhang handed her a ladle. “Scoop the congee while I go get the buns.”

Zhenzhen quickly took the ladle from him and filled two bowls to the brim, setting out the chopsticks as she watched Mr. Zhang bring over a steaming tray of buns. “Poria buns,” he said.

“Poria buns?” Zhenzhen stared at them curiously. “How do you make those?”

Mr. Zhang placed a dish of scallion oil and mustard greens on the table, picked up a bun, took a bite, and then slowly explained, “To make these buns, you start by boiling poria in a clay pot over low heat for half an hour. Once the medicinal broth is ready, use it to knead the dough. It helps strengthen the spleen and stomach—it’s good for the body.”

“I see!” Zhenzhen said, enlightened. She grabbed a bun and took a big bite, squinting with delight.

The bun dough was made from flour sifted only once, giving it a rich fragrance. The filling was hand-chopped pork belly, half-fat and half-lean, mixed with scallions, ginger, garlic, and a bit of broth. The bun had a thin skin and was packed with filling—once she bit into it, the savory juice spilled out. The combination of chewy dough and fragrant meat was rich but not greasy, and so delicious it felt like her tongue might roll up and disappear.

Zhenzhen devoured one big bun in a flash and, still unsatisfied, grabbed a second one, completely unbothered by appearances. Zhang Renzhe didn’t mind; he just watched her with a smile, reminding gently, “Drink some congee first, or you might choke.”

Zhenzhen nodded and took a spoonful of the lotus leaf and goji berry congee. Its taste was unlike any she had tried before—smooth, subtly sweet, and fragrant with a hint of lotus. There was definitely rock sugar in it!

Compared to Zhenzhen’s wolfing down, Zhang Renzhe was much more restrained. Being older, he ate mainly for health. He had just three buns and one bowl of congee, felt about seventy percent full, and put down his chopsticks.

That meant Zhenzhen got to enjoy the rest. She polished off the remaining seven buns and another bowl and a half of congee. Her belly was round and full, though she still seemed a little unsatisfied.

Seeing her eating to the point of hiccups, Zhang Renzhe couldn’t help but shake his head. “Zhenzhen, you ate way too much. Seventy percent full is enough.”

Zhenzhen rubbed her belly, thinking hard, then asked with a troubled look, “Sir, what exactly does seventy percent full feel like?”

Sitting at the tea table, Zhang Renzhe leisurely began boiling water for tea. As he poured out the water used to rinse the tea leaves, he looked at her with a smile. “Seventy percent full means you’re neither hungry nor full.”

Neither hungry nor full? Zhenzhen tried to recall how she had felt while eating but found the concept too vague. She scratched her head, looking puzzled. “Sir, for me there are only two feelings: hungry or full. Not hungry and not full still means I didn’t eat enough, right? That won’t do. If I skip even half a meal at night, I can’t sleep.”

Clearly, there was no point explaining it to her. Zhang Renzhe chuckled and shook his head. “Forget it. If you enjoy eating, then eat more. You’re young and energetic—it’s not a bad thing. Now go wash the bowl and pot.”

Having enjoyed the breakfast, Zhenzhen promptly got up to do the dishes. Then she quietly sat across from Zhang Renzhe again.

Pleased with her attitude, he poured her a cup of tea and began teaching her the basics of medicinal cuisine. “Though it’s food, medicinal cuisine follows the same roots as medicine. You can’t just throw things together. If done wrong, instead of nourishing the body, it could trigger illness.” He took a sip of tea and continued, “Sour enters the liver, bitter into the heart, sweet into the spleen, pungent into the lungs, and salty into the kidneys. When preparing medicinal food, it must be tailored to the person and the time. So you must understand the theory of Yin-Yang and the Five Elements, the internal organs, and the properties and compatibility of medicinal herbs—only then can you make good medicinal meals.”

Hearing all this, Zhenzhen couldn’t help but frown. Traditional Chinese medicine had a long history and vast knowledge. With thousands of herbs involved, truly mastering it would take ten or even twenty years.

Zhang Renzhe saw her expression and immediately understood her thoughts. Smiling, he got up, fetched two books, and handed them to her. “I have two books here. The first one contains basic knowledge of Chinese medicine and common herbs, which I compiled myself. Read it when you have free time—absorb what you can. The thicker one is a collection of medicinal recipes I’ve gathered over the years. Since you don’t yet have the foundation to make your own prescriptions, you’ll just have to memorize these commonly used ones. That should be enough to get you started.”

Zhenzhen’s eyes lit up at once. She quickly opened the thick book her teacher had given her and saw that it was meticulously organized. The medicinal recipes were classified in detail by their effects, including not only specific preparation methods but also the corresponding illnesses each dish addressed. It was clear how much time and effort Mr. Zhang had poured into writing this book.

The fact that Zhang Renzhe was willing to share such a labor of love with her made it obvious that he was holding back nothing and teaching her everything he knew. Zhenzhen felt deeply moved and, holding the book tightly, said sincerely, “Thank you, Teacher!”

Zhang Renzhe smiled as he looked at her. “No need to thank me. Just don’t stop coming to learn now that you’ve got the recipes. I didn’t go into fine detail on how to handle every ingredient and herb—that has to be taught hands-on. So don’t even think about slacking off this summer.”

Zhenzhen nodded repeatedly. “If Teacher is willing to put in the effort to teach me, then I’ll definitely study hard. Please rest assured!”

“Good.” Zhang Renzhe drained his cup of tea in one go. “Come with me now, we’re going to slaughter a chicken and a duck.”

“Alright!” Zhenzhen followed right behind him.

Zhang Renzhe was not only skilled at selecting poultry, but he was also incredibly efficient at slaughtering them. Zhenzhen crouched nearby, watching as he deftly killed and plucked the chicken. With a quick tug, the innards were cleaned out in one go. She couldn’t help but exclaim, “Teacher, you’re a chef whose talent was wasted on traditional medicine!”

“What kind of compliment is that?” Zhang Renzhe was amused by her words and chuckled. Looking at her, he began explaining some butchering tips. “You know, when slaughtering a chicken, you must fully drain the blood and remove the chicken fat, or the soup will be murky. It won’t just look unappetizing—it’ll taste worse too.”

“There’s really so much to learn!” Zhenzhen looked at the pile of greasy chicken fat and couldn’t help asking, “If the fat ruins the taste, then why are you keeping it?”

As he rinsed the cleaned chicken under the tap, Zhang Renzhe replied, “It’s no good for soup, but you can use it to fry pancakes. They’ll come out golden, crisp, and fragrant—delicious beyond words.”

Hearing that, Zhenzhen immediately started drooling. She carefully placed the chicken fat into a bowl instead of casually tossing it into the bag, and carried it into the kitchen with both hands like a treasure.

That day, Zhang Renzhe planned to cook two meat dishes: Yunnan’s famous Cordyceps Steamed Chicken and a nourishing Eight-Treasure Duck for kidney and dental health. As he cooked and explained the details, Zhenzhen listened intently, but something seemed off. “Teacher, neither of these dishes sounds like something I should be eating…”

“Exactly,” Zhang Renzhe gave her a sidelong glance. “They weren’t meant for you in the first place.”

As he added the chicken, bamboo fungus, and Xuanwei ham into the steamer pot, Zhenzhen quickly stopped him from adding the precious cordyceps. “Teacher, that stuff’s really expensive and hard to come by. Let’s be frugal and skip it?”

Seeing her pitiful look, Zhang Renzhe let out a cold snort. “You won’t even call me ‘Master,’ yet you want to eat my chicken? No way.”

Zhenzhen rolled her eyes. “You’re being so petty.”

Zhang Renzhe pulled out another batch of cordyceps, ready to add it in. Zhenzhen rushed over and grabbed his hand. “Master, Master, Master—please don’t add it!”

Zhang Renzhe froze mid-motion, then looked at her with smug satisfaction. “You said that on your own. I didn’t force you.”

“Yes, yes, yes! You’re absolutely right.” Zhenzhen snatched the herb pouch from his hand and set it aside. “Master, what’s the next step?”

Hearing her call him “Master” so sweetly, Zhang Renzhe felt particularly pleased. He nodded contentedly. “Since you’re so sincere, I guess I’ll reluctantly accept you as my disciple.”

“I’ll hold you to that!” Zhenzhen said with both amusement and exasperation. “Master, you’re acting like a giddy old child.”

“Well, that’s because Su Weiran is always showing off, saying you’re his student. And I was your original teacher! Even that brat Xie Shurang is teaching you French now. I can’t fall too far behind.” Zhang Renzhe beamed. “Once you master my medicinal cuisine, I’ll take you out and show you off—let them envy us!”

“Alright! I’ll definitely study hard.” Zhenzhen patted her chest in promise, then eagerly asked, “Master, do you need me to wash more vegetables?”

The two of them worked through the entire morning, preparing two meat dishes, four vegetable dishes, and a plate of crisp, golden chicken fat pancakes. Zhenzhen scooped up a bowl of tender, clear Steamed Chicken Soup and blew on it before taking an eager sip. The rich flavor lingered on her lips and tongue, and she slapped her thigh in regret. “All those wild chickens I ate before were wasted!”

With so many dishes on the table at lunch, the duck didn’t even make it out of the kitchen. When Zhenzhen headed home, Zhang Renzhe handed her the Eight-Treasure Duck. “Take it home for your grandma and your parents. Come back tomorrow morning.”

Rubbing her bulging stomach, Zhenzhen groaned, “Master, how many pounds do you think I’ll gain after a whole summer of this?”

Zhang Renzhe had also eaten more than usual, thanks to Zhenzhen’s appetizing eating style. Hearing her question, he looked troubled. “Honestly, I think I might gain weight too!”
—

Every ten days, Zhang Renzhe would visit the Li household to check Xie Yanan’s pulse and adjust her prescription accordingly. Xie Yanan, knowing his reputation as a master of traditional Chinese medicine, treated every word from his mouth like gospel. Not only did she take her medicine on a strict schedule, but she also followed even his casual lifestyle tips with the precision of a scientific experiment.

After taking his medicine for over a month, Xie Yanan clearly noticed improvements in her health. At the very least, her chronic lower back pain was gone, and her usual cold hands and feet in autumn were much improved. Even Mingxi remarked that her feet finally felt warm, unlike before when they were icy all year round.

While Xie Yanan was on her month-long vacation, the project Mingxi was part of also wrapped up. Considering how their research staff had practically lived at the lab for years and often worked themselves to exhaustion, the director gave everyone a generous three-month break to rest and recuperate.

It was the first time since graduating and joining the military that Mingxi had taken a real vacation. The idea of him staying home for a few days brought joy not only to Grandma Li and Wang Sufen but even to Zhenzhen.

To test Zhenzhen’s skills, Zhang Renzhe came over to the Li house and checked Mingxi’s pulse. He then carefully wrote up a pulse diagnosis and told Zhenzhen to come up with a suitable medicinal dish on her own.

Though Mingxi was young and had a strong foundation from his military school days, his transition into research meant less physical activity and more late nights, which had somewhat weakened his qi and blood. Zhenzhen chose a recipe that replenished both and took full responsibility for sourcing the ingredients and preparing the dish. Zhang Renzhe silently observed from the side without offering any hints. Only after she was done did he point out the mistakes she’d made during the process, one by one. Still, her choice of dish was appropriate, so the finished medicinal meal was served to Mingxi.

Mingxi looked in surprise at the clay pot in front of him and got emotional when Zhenzhen said she’d made it especially to nourish him. He sipped the soup and chatted with her, moved: “Originally, your second sister-in-law said that if this baby turned out to be a girl, she wouldn’t give her a food-related name. She wanted something elegant, like Xixi or Chuchu. But now I think you’re so good to your brother—maybe I’ll let you name my daughter after all.” He took another bite of tender ribs and looked at Zhenzhen with hope. “If I really do have a daughter, what should we call her?”

Zhenzhen looked at Ming Xi, torn between laughter and exasperation, and deliberately teased him: “Why don’t we just name it Bread, then?”

Ming Xi, who was in the middle of sipping his soup, instantly lit up. “See that? Great minds think alike! That’s exactly what I was thinking, but your second sister-in-law wasn’t on board.”

Xie Yanan glanced up at Ming Xi and couldn’t help but roast him: “You call that bread? What you said was dalieba!”

Ming Xi chuckled and grinned at her. “Dalieba isn’t bread? Dalieba is delicious! Chewy, filling, honest and hearty!”

Zhenzhen watched the couple bantering back and forth, and decided to quietly slip away and not get involved in their husband-and-wife antics. But just as she turned around, she heard Ming Xi call out: “Zhenzhen, don’t you think I make a good point?”

Zhenzhen turned back, gave him a big thumbs up, and said, “No problem at all. Anyway, when my sister-in-law wants to beat you to death later, we definitely won’t stop her.”
—

Ming Xi had just moved into the new house and barely had a couple of days to enjoy some family bonding before Ming Bei and Zhenzhen were heading back to school.

Before, Zhenzhen always took the bus to and from school with Ming Bei and Wang Xinwen. Even though she sometimes felt like a bit of a third wheel, she’d gotten used to it over time.

But this time was different. Xi Junjie invited her to take the bus back to school together under the pretense of practicing French conversation. Meanwhile, during a relaxed summer break, Wang Xinwen had accidentally gotten pregnant again. So their original plan of heading back to school early to review and study in the library got thrown off. After some discussion, Ming Bei and Wang Xinwen decided to head back the day before school started to rest up a bit more at home.

Zhenzhen had been at home for over a month. Though she stayed busy every day—running, practicing French, learning to make medicinal meals—she still felt a bit out of rhythm without the structure of regular study. So she decided to stick to the original plan and go back to school a week early with Xi Junjie to review her coursework.

By the time she arrived, most students were already back. The moment she stepped onto campus, she bumped into Guo Xiaoqiao. Xiaoqiao ran up cheerfully and grabbed Zhenzhen’s arm. “I was just wondering if you’d show up early. I’d be so scared sleeping in the dorm alone tonight if you didn’t.”

Zhenzhen playfully tapped her on the nose. “You’re not a kid anymore. Don’t you sleep alone in your own room at home?”

“That’s different.” Xiaoqiao beamed as she tugged on Zhenzhen’s hand. “I can’t sleep well without you around.”

Xi Junjie followed behind at a not-too-close, not-too-far distance, watching the two girls clinging to each other. He sighed inwardly: What’s with girls always hugging like that? Look at that—her head’s practically drooping onto Zhenzhen’s shoulder. What if she squashes her or something?

Just as he finished grumbling about Guo Xiaoqiao, she linked arms with Zhenzhen again. Xi Junjie’s face darkened instantly. His usually delicate and handsome features now carried a sharper, more intense edge, making him look a little less “pretty” and a little more intimidating.

He had originally thought that once school started, he’d have more opportunities to spend time with Zhenzhen, let her get to know him better, and that after graduation, things would fall into place naturally between them. But now? It felt like a long shot. Xi Junjie trailed behind, watching wistfully as Zhenzhen turned and headed toward the Chinese Department dorms, clearly forgetting he was even there.

Lowering his head in disappointment, Xi Junjie felt like the road to winning over his future wife was still long and winding. He started mentally counting the number of wild ducks in his family’s pond, wondering whether he should suggest raising a few more next time he went home—couldn’t have them all gone before he even got the girl, right?

“Xi Junjie.” Suddenly, a familiar voice called out. Xi Junjie looked up in surprise and joy as Zhenzhen stood there. In that moment, his smile was like sunshine—radiant and dazzling.

Zhenzhen blinked, a bit taken aback, before she snapped out of it. All those weeks of summer vacation must’ve helped her get used to this a little. She let go of Guo Xiaoqiao’s hand and walked over to Xi Junjie, tugging his sleeve to pull him a few steps aside to a quieter spot.

“That dinner we talked about probably won’t work today—I’m eating with Xiaoqiao. But we’re still running tomorrow morning, right?” She looked at him as he nodded eagerly. Zhenzhen gave a small laugh. “Still five-thirty. See you at the track.”

Xi Junjie nodded happily. “See you tomorrow!”