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"Fool!" Cui Xiaoman suddenly jumped up, snatching the gourd ladle from his hand and pouring water into the pot. The boiling oil splattered onto Lin Dahe's hand, leaving a red mark. Just as he was about to shout, the girl had already grabbed his wrist and plunged it into a nearby bucket of cold water.
"Can you use wet chopsticks for frying?" she glared at him fiercely, though her eyes curved into crescent moons, "Have you turned your brain to mush from all that studying?"
A system notification lazily floated by: [Current cooking skill rating: E. It is recommended to exchange for the "Kitchen Safety Manual."] It even included a smirking emoji.
Outside the courtyard, there was a rustling sound. A dozen little heads peeked through the gaps in the fence, sniffing the air for the scent of fried food. The boldest among them, Zhao Ergou, clung to the doorframe and shouted, "Brother Lin, my mom says your oil pot... looks like it's for frying ghost heads at the temple fair!"
"Nonsense!" Cui Xiaoman retorted with her hands on her hips, "This is fried potato cakes from the Western Regions!" She turned around and poked Lin Dahe in the lower back, "What are you standing there for? Let the kids have a taste."
Only then did Lin Dahe snap back to reality and scoop the golden-fried potato chips into a basket. As he sprinkled crushed Sichuan pepper salt over them, a sudden notification popped up: [Emotional value +5, unlocked hidden recipe "Ming Dynasty Style French Fries."]
The children rushed forward, grabbing at the basket with eager hands. The smartest among them, Wang Xiaoya, licked her fingers and asked, "Uncle Lin, this is even better than the snacks at the county magistrate's house! Did it really grow in the soil?"
"Of course!" Lin Dahe pointed to a pile of freshly dug potatoes in the corner of the yard. The yellow-brown tubers glistened under the sunlight; the largest was as big as a bowl and still damp with fresh soil. This was their third crop of the year, and surprisingly, it yielded twenty percent more than the system had predicted.
The aroma wafted far away on the autumn breeze. Seventh Uncle leaned on his jujube wood cane as he entered the courtyard, followed by half of the village. Doctor Li held a coarse porcelain bowl with several copper coins resting at its bottom: "Dahe, please send some to my old wife; she hasn't tasted fried food in six months due to her illness..."
"No charge!" Lin Dahe quickly filled a bowl and handed it over. Turning around, he noticed a hunched figure at the edge of the crowd—Zhou Liangzhang leaned on an elm stick, his left foot wrapped in dirty cloth strips; his official boots had long been replaced with straw sandals. Ever since he was dismissed due to a grain scandal, he had become like an old dog without its backbone, avoiding people at all costs.
"Lin... Lin Xiangong," Zhou Liangzhang's voice sounded muffled as if stuffed with cotton, "Could I have..." Before he could finish his sentence, Sun Butcher in front turned around and spat.
Lin Dahe pushed through the crowd and offered a bowl of freshly made mashed potatoes, deliberately drenching it with a spoonful of meat oil. Zhou Liangzhang's bony fingers trembled as he nearly dropped the bowl.
"Eat slowly," Lin Dahe lowered his voice, "For your left foot injury... it's best to mash some purslane and apply it."
Zhou Liangzhang suddenly looked up; a flicker of surprise crossed his murky eyes. He moved his lips as if wanting to say something when Cui Xiaoman shouted from beside the stove, "The batter is ready! Fool, come here!"
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the aromas wafting through the courtyard had transformed into a delightful mix—the crisp scent of fried potato wedges, the rich aroma of potatoes stewed with wild chicken, and the earthy fragrance of roasted potatoes sprinkled with coarse salt. It was amidst this lively atmosphere that Peddler Zhang burst through the fence gate; his bulging pack on his back and his coarse cloth shoes torn wide open.
"Incredible!" Peddler Zhang gulped down several mouthfuls of water from a ladle while water dripped from his beard as he hurriedly began unpacking his bag. "I saw a Persian merchant in Jinan..."
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