Chapter 178: Farmhouse Noodles and Homemade Wine

“I can only watch—I really don’t know how to do this,” Lin Heng laughed heartily.

He was the designated eater in the family. Sure, he could cook if he had to, but he was just too lazy.

Father Lin chuckled and said, “Just wash your hands and help knead the starch later. We’ll handle the slurry.”

“Got it.”

Lin Heng ran over to Xiulan and asked her to scoop some water so he could wash his hands. While doing so, he asked, “How much bracken starch did you make?”

“It’s all hanging over there, probably around seven or eight jin. I’ll turn it into noodles for you in a bit,” Xiulan said, pointing to a white cloth bag hanging nearby, draining the excess water.

“Once the noodles are done, I’ll whip up a cold bracken noodle salad and show off my skills,” Lin Heng said with a grin as he washed his hands.

Xiulan blinked and smiled. “Then I’ll have to give your cooking a proper taste test.”

“I guarantee it’ll win over your stomach,” Lin Heng said with a wide smile.

Then he gathered Xiao Xia and the other two kids and ran over to watch the slurry-making process.

Making sweet potato noodles takes real skill. The first step is called “making the slurry.”

Since sweet potato starch is pure starch, it sinks straight to the bottom if you just dump it in water. That’s why you need to make a slurry first.

The process involves adding small amounts of sweet potato starch to half a bucket of boiling water, stirring constantly to cook it into a thick, glue-like grey paste—similar to how lotus root starch turns into a gel when mixed with hot water.

This step requires finesse: no lumps, not too dry, not too runny. The consistency has to be just right.

Lin Yue added some starch while Father Lin stirred vigorously.

After a good while, Father Lin checked the texture and said, “This looks about right. Time to add the rest of the starch. Lin Heng, come help stir.”

“On it.”

Lin Heng stepped up to help.

The large wooden barrel, about fifty centimeters in diameter, sat on a small table. It was already half full of the cooked slurry.

With the slurry as a base, the added starch wouldn’t just sink to the bottom.

“Okay, one-two, one-two…”

They poured in more starch. The three of them, standing at different angles, used their fists to press the starch down into the slurry, then pulled the cooked mixture back up, repeating the process while kneading and mixing.

The kneading helped remove lumps, while stirring ensured the starch fully blended with the slurry.

“One-two, one-two…”

Xiao Xia and the other kids bounced around nearby, watching the action. Some cheered, some clapped, and others looked eager to try it themselves.

As the sound of their work spread, more villagers came over to watch. It was winter, and with little else to do, any lively event drew a crowd.

Lin Heng was having a blast. It was a bit hot at first, but soon it felt pretty good.

Watching noodles being made was oddly satisfying. Villagers chatted around the boiling pot, the scene as lively as a pig slaughter during New Year’s.

“Lin Heng, are you selling any of these noodles? I’d love to buy some,” Tian Baishun called out with a grin.

“Not selling. But if you want some, I’ll give you a bit,” Lin Heng replied with a smile.

Old Man Tian shook his head. “Nah, I’ll bring you some sweet potato starch and you can make me a batch.”

“I said I’d give you some—don’t be so fussy,” Lin Heng said, shaking his head.

“Nope, I insist. I’ll go get some,” Old Man Tian laughed and went off to buy starch.

Back at the barrel, Lin Heng and the others kept working. After half an hour, they finally finished the first batch.

The barrel now held a white, gelatinous sweet potato paste. If you grabbed a handful, it would stick to your hand and slowly drip down—that meant it was perfect. Too dry or too watery wouldn’t work.

Meanwhile, Mother Lin had the big pot of water boiling. The water had to be at a rolling boil but not bubbling too violently—otherwise, the noodles would break apart when dropped in.

“Ready to start? Everyone set?” Father Lin asked, holding a metal strainer with a grin.

“Ready! Just get on with it already,” Mother Lin urged impatiently.

“Alright, here we go.”

Father Lin laughed and brought over the strainer, which had a dense array of small holes at the bottom.

He poured the white starch paste into it and gently tapped. The paste dripped through the holes into the boiling water, instantly cooking into noodles.

Father Lin kept tapping to ensure a steady stream. Lin Heng held the strainer, and Lin Yue kept adding more paste.

On the other side, Mother Lin used a wooden stick to scoop the cooked noodles into a large tub of cold water.

Xiulan was in charge of rinsing the noodles in the icy water, while Liu Juan used another stick to lift them out. Once the noodles were long enough, she threaded them onto sticks to hang and dry.

The six of them worked in perfect sync, while the villagers watched and chatted under the warm winter sun. The whole scene was bustling with energy.

Homemade noodles might not look the cleanest, what with the rustic setting and all, but they were 100% pure—no additives whatsoever. Every year, buyers would come specifically for these, and they always sold out fast.

Before long, the first batch was done and hanging on the racks to dry. The semi-transparent grey noodles shimmered in the sunlight, looking chewy and springy even before cooking.

As they started the third batch, Tian Baishun returned, lugging a bag of starch. “I bought twenty jin of sweet potato starch. Can you make a batch for me?”

Lin Heng glanced at him and nodded. “Alright, we’ll add it to the last batch.”

“Great! Homemade always tastes better,” Tian Baishun said with a grin.

“No doubt about it—this stuff’s the real deal,” someone nearby chimed in.

Each batch they made used fifty jin of starch. By the time they finished the third batch, it was already noon.

So absorbed in their work, none of them had eaten. The kids nearby were starving, some whining, some crying.

“Daddy, I’m hungry~”

Xiao Xia even clung to Lin Heng’s leg, refusing to let him keep working.

“Alright, alright, just wait a sec.”

Lin Heng went home and came back with four bags of shrimp chips, handing one to each kid. Li Chengguo had brought up a whole box the day before—thirty bags in total.

“Thanks, Second Uncle~” Lin Tao beamed with gratitude. This was a treat he never dreamed of having—only Second Uncle could bring stuff like this.

“Bro, just give them one bag to share. That’s plenty,” Lin Yue said with a smile.

“It’s fine, they’re cheap,” Lin Heng waved it off with a grin.

He hadn’t had snacks like this growing up, and he wasn’t about to let these kids miss out too.

The aroma and crunch of the shrimp chips had even the other kids craning their necks, drooling.

Even the adults were curious—most had never seen shrimp chips before. The fanciest snack they’d ever had was a biscuit.

Lin Heng handed the last bag to Lin Tao. “Here, share this with the others.”

“Okay!”

Lin Tao opened the bag and handed them out. The polite kids thanked Lin Heng profusely; the rowdy ones grabbed a handful and ran off.

Lin Heng didn’t mind. He wasn’t giving snacks for the thanks.

“Let’s keep going,” Father Lin called out, and the three of them resumed work. By the time they finished the last batch, it was already past two in the afternoon.

Then they made a separate batch from Tian Baishun’s twenty jin of starch.

“This bracken starch is really dark,” Father Lin remarked as he made the slurry. It was his first time using bracken starch for noodles.

“That’s how you know it’s pure,” Lin Heng chuckled. The dark color came from the high pigment content. The bracken starch was a bit too moist, making it harder to mix. It took them half an hour to get it right.

When they pressed it through the strainer into the pot, the noodles came out jet black.

Seventeen or eighteen jin’s worth was done in no time, and the glossy black noodles were soon hanging on the rack.

“Finally done! I’m going to make lunch,” Mother Lin said, wiping her hands. She was starving.

“Let’s clean up,” Father Lin said with a smile.

They washed all the tools, then brought out a large wooden barrel from the house. They filled the gaps with sawdust and soaked it—it would be used for brewing wine in the next day or two.

The villagers started heading home. Mother Lin quickly whipped up some sauerkraut noodles. Lin Heng scooped a bowl and sat on a small stool under the eaves to eat.

The sun was still shining, and the noodles hanging in the courtyard were drying quickly in the cold wind and sunlight.

By the time they finished eating, it was already past three. Father Lin and Big Brother went out to bring back some straw to feed the cows and horses.

Lin Heng and Xiulan took a short break at home. With the fireplace lit and a cup of tea in hand as they sat by the window, it was a cozy and relaxing moment.

“Are you heading to Red Maple Mountain later?” Xiulan asked, sipping her tea. She liked to add a bit of sugar to it.

Lin Heng nodded. “Yeah, I need to let the workers know they’ve got time off.”

“Then let’s go together. I’ll pick some wild greens while we’re there,” Xiulan said immediately.

Crack!!

Just as Lin Heng was about to respond, a sharp sound rang out.

“Damn it! My Yixing teacup!”

Startled, both of them turned to look at Xiao Xia. She froze under their gaze, lips pressed tightly together, on the verge of tears.

“When you break something of your dad’s, you should apologize. Say you’re sorry,” Xiulan said, looking at her.

“Waaah~ I’m sorry, Daddy~”

Crying, Xiao Xia burrowed into Lin Heng’s arms, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just don’t break anything next time,” Lin Heng said quickly, hugging her and patting her back to comfort her.

She cried for a good while before finally calming down, still clinging to Lin Heng’s neck and repeating her apologies.

“The water I just poured was really hot. Don’t try to grab it next time,” Lin Heng said helplessly. Thankfully, it wasn’t an antique—otherwise, his heart would’ve shattered too.

“I got it,” Xiao Xia nodded, still a little scared. She had just wanted a sip of water.

After a couple of sips, the family set out around five o’clock.

Lin Heng carried Xiao Xia, while Xiulan brought a bamboo basket and a small hoe.

The three of them walked briskly to Red Maple Mountain and started digging for greens on the way back.

Lin Heng took his daughter to check out the construction site. Li Shiwei came over and said, “Everything’s pretty much done. Should we just call it a day this afternoon?”

Lin Heng checked everything one by one. Once he confirmed there were no issues, he pulled out the work log and said, “Finish up what you’re working on, then come sign off. Tomorrow and the day after are holidays. Be back here at 8 a.m. the day after that.”

“We’ll head back this afternoon then. Good chance to check in at home,” Li Shiwei said.

“Up to you. Either way is fine,” Lin Heng replied with a smile. He wasn’t the type to insist people stay.

“We’ll let your dad know and head out. We’ll be back on the 9th, first thing in the morning,” said Li Baiquan, grinning.

“Sounds good.” Lin Heng nodded. With everything arranged, he went to find Xiulan and help her dig for wild greens.

Though it was winter and a bit chilly, there were still shepherd’s purse, dandelions, and purslane to be found. Xiulan mainly picked shepherd’s purse and purslane—the family wasn’t too fond of dandelions.

“Mommy, there’s one here!”

Xiao Xia skipped around looking for greens, calling out excitedly whenever she found one.

Lin Heng held her hand as they walked slowly behind, like they were out for a stroll.

They didn’t talk much, but the atmosphere was peaceful and warm.

Some dandelions by the roadside had already bloomed into little golden flowers. Xiao Xia plucked a few and played with them in her hand.

The scene had a poetic charm to it—like “plucking chrysanthemums by the eastern fence, and leisurely gazing at the southern mountains.”

Except Xiao Xia was plucking dandelions by the roadside.

“Mommy, for you.”

In the end, Xiao Xia gave all the dandelions she’d picked to Xiulan.

“Thank you.” Xiulan kissed her daughter, beaming with joy.

By the time the three of them got home, the sky was already dark. Lin Heng noticed that his uncle-in-law and Li Shiwei hadn’t left yet, so he asked curiously.

“Your mom asked us to stay and help brew the liquor tomorrow. We’ll head back the day after,” Li Baiquan said with a helpless smile.

“Then stay. Once we’re done tomorrow, we’ll have a drink together,” Lin Heng said with a grin.

“Deal.” Li Baiquan chuckled—he loved his liquor.

After a bit more chatting, Lin Heng and Xiulan headed home. Dinner was simple: just rice, with a cold dish of purslane that Xiulan had prepared—it tasted great.

They didn’t eat the shepherd’s purse yet; Xiulan planned to make dumplings with it the next day.

With the fireplace installed, the house stayed warm at night. It was even a bit hot in pajamas, so they had to take off a layer.

They adjusted the air intake on the fireplace to lower the heat. As long as they added wood once during the night, it was enough.

Xiao Xia had gone back to sleeping in her own little bed, and there was no worry about her being cold. Lin Heng could now cuddle with Xiulan without freezing.

That fireplace had definitely been worth it.

In the morning, Lin Heng added more wood to the fire. He opened the window to enjoy the view without worrying about the cold.

He liked lying there, watching his wife get dressed piece by piece—it amused him.

Once she was fully dressed, Xiulan’s curvy figure was completely hidden under her cotton-padded coat. No one would ever guess what she was really working with.

“Get up already!”

Xiulan rolled her eyes and tossed his clothes at him.

That morning, Xiulan kneaded the dough, planning to make dumplings for lunch.

After breakfast, Xiulan stayed home to make dumplings while Lin Heng went to help his father and the others brew liquor.

They were making two types of liquor in total. Today’s batch was sweet sorghum wine, made from field-grown sorghum. Tomorrow, they’d be making Chinese date wine.

Lin Heng’s job was to help crush and chop the sweet sorghum. The grains on the stalks needed to be steamed.

Normally, once chopped, you could just mix in the fermentation starter. But Father Lin and the others liked to add some herbs too—supposedly to enhance the flavor. Lin Heng wasn’t too sure about the specifics.

Once everything was prepped, he watched his father mix in the starter. After a thorough stir, the mixture was poured into a large wooden barrel and sealed for fermentation. It usually took 21 days before it could be distilled into liquor.

Lin Heng wasn’t a heavy drinker—just the occasional sip. He thought homemade country liquor was pretty good. The alcohol content was low, and it went down smooth.

Some people claimed homemade liquor wasn’t safe, but store-bought stuff was often full of additives and “industrial tricks.”

Of course, that didn’t apply to the really expensive brands.

All things considered, he still preferred this kind of liquor, where you could see the raw ingredients yourself.

Once the brewing work was done, Lin Heng went to check on the village. All the utility poles had been installed, and there was one right outside their old house.

“Power’s coming on tomorrow. I’m actually kind of excited,” Lin Heng said, feeling the wind on his face.

It had been a long time since he’d seen light at night. He really missed the days of electric lamps.

(End of Chapter)