Mutton Offal Soup

"Did your mother eat cornmeal cakes yesterday?"

Dong Ying froze for a moment. "My family eats corn cakes often."

"Your mother must have a habit. When the corn cakes get hard, she usually soaks them in water, right?"

"Exactly." Dong Ying's expression turned grave.

Li Qingxian said, "I just performed a Fate Reading. The corn cakes you ate were contaminated with some kind of mold insect. And last night, your mother was careless and left half a corn cake soaking all night. She couldn't bear to throw it away, so she ate it today."

Dong Ying's expression changed dramatically. "Before I left this morning, my mother said her stomach felt a little unwell."

"Then that's it. If nothing unexpected happens, your mother has probably already begun vomiting and having diarrhea, and is looking for a doctor. Hurry there and use True Essence to assist the doctor's treatment. Otherwise, the consequences will be unthinkable," Li Qingxian said.

Dong Ying took off running, his left hand protecting his saber. As he ran, he looked back and said, "If you can save my mother, you'll be my, Dong Ying's, great benefactor. I'll owe you my life. If you're lying to me, get your ass down to the docks!"

"Go to Life-Preserving Hall!" Li Qingxian shouted.

Dong Ying ran on in silence.

"Qingxian, what happened?" Zheng Hui walked over with the others.

"Nothing," Li Qingxian said.

"What exactly happened?" Yu Ping asked.

"You'll know tonight." Li Qingxian smiled.

"So mysterious. Come on, let's go eat mutton soup!" Yu Ping turned and left.

Zheng Hui and Han Anbo looked curiously at Li Qingxian. Seeing that he would not speak, they let it go.

Li Qingxian pondered as he walked.

It seemed that before reaching Entry Rank, he should use the Qi-Gazing Technique as little as possible, especially on high-ranking cultivators. Using it once made him dizzy; using it twice might make him pass out cold.

The Qi-Gazing Technique truly was formidable. But what had that withered tree meant?

It seemed related to Fate Arts. He seemed to have learned about it before, but unfortunately, those important memories were still hazy.

After walking for a while, Yu Ping forcefully sniffed the air.

"We're here!"

The three followed the sound and saw Yu Ping ahead of them, looking as though his soul had left his body. He took three steps as two and turned into an alley barely more than a yard wide.

The three exchanged smiles and followed him in.

The mottled brick walls on both sides were covered in glistening green moss, while the broken pale-gray stone road stretched all the way to Happiness Street.

Beyond the mouth of the alley, people streamed back and forth. Countless voices gathered into a growing hum.

The fragrances flowing through the air grew ever more plentiful and thick.

Stepping around filthy little puddles, the three emerged from the alley.

All the sights of common life and the scent of worldly fire surged at them, wrapping them tightly within.

Yu Ping quickened his pace again, while the other three strolled unhurriedly down the pitted dirt road.

Sizzle... Fried cakes hit the oil, stirring up a faint haze that drilled into their noses, rich and fragrant.

Glug, glug... Beneath the rolling steam, reddish-brown braised meat rose and fell in the pot.

"Coming out of the pot..." The lid lifted, thick white vapor dispersed, and golden-yellow steamed corn cakes came into view.

Li Qingxian looked at the familiar scene and listened to the clamorous sounds, a joy at surviving a great calamity rising within him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw someone white and plump waving vigorously.

Li Qingxian looked over and saw Yu Ping wildly waving with his left hand, pointing at the tables and chairs below with his right. Baring his teeth and glaring, he shouted loudly.

"Hurry up, I got us seats..."

The three quickened their steps.

A white vertical banner greasy with grime trembled gently in the wind, and the filthy words "Zhang's" were clearly visible.

Six tables and rows of long benches stood outside the shop, while above its entrance hung Zhang's black plaque with gold lettering.

Li Qingxian poked his head in and found the shop packed full, with even two tables occupied outside.

"Master Zheng is here! Sit, sit! Mutton offal or mutton?" Old Zhang, so busy his feet barely touched the ground, came over. He looked warmly at Zheng Hui while pulling the towel from his shoulder to wipe down a table splashed with soup.

The nearby diners looked over. Seeing their brocade uniforms and sabers, some shrank their necks, some swallowed hard, while others remained expressionless and continued eating.

Zheng Hui waved a broad hand. "They're all friends, no need for formalities. Go on with your work, don't mind us. The usual: four bowls of mutton offal soup, three hard white-flour buns, two cut into pieces."

Han Anbo added, "And four cups of water to rinse our mouths after the meal."

"Right away!" Old Zhang said as he turned and left.

Zheng Hui's face shone with health. "Old Zhang is quite a righteous fellow. I only helped him drive off a few punks, but he's remembered it all these years. He's this warm every time, making me embarrassed to come too often."

"Captain Zheng had no ties of kinship or friendship with Old Zhang, yet he was willing to help. Captain Zheng is even more righteous," Han Anbo said.

"No, no..." Zheng Hui spoke modestly, but he smiled so broadly his mouth could not close.

Yu Ping curled his lip. "Captain Zheng, I even saved you seats. Shouldn't you reward me with a bowl of mutton soup? Every time we come, you only treat us to mutton offal soup. Do you still care about the dignity of a Tenth Rank powerhouse?"

"Old Zhang's mutton offal soup is his best dish." Zheng Hui could not be bothered to look at Yu Ping as he got up to fetch chili oil and ground pepper from another table.

Li Qingxian glanced at the prices posted on the wall. Mutton offal soup cost five coins, while mutton soup cost fifteen.

Deputy Captain Han Anbo came over carrying coarse pottery plates. Li Qingxian abruptly rose in realization and hurriedly took them. "Sorry for the trouble, Captain Han."

"It's nothing. Whoever carries them, carries them." Han Anbo smiled as he distributed the plates.

Li Qingxian helped distribute bamboo chopsticks and wooden soup spoons.

"You didn't order my white-flour buns again!" Yu Ping sighed.

Zheng Hui pushed over the chili oil and ground pepper. "Who told you to be so picky? You insist that white-flour buns only go with mutton soup, saying they taste wrong with mutton offal. Serves you right!"

"That's how it is! Everyone talks about mutton stew with crumbled flatbread. Who has ever heard of mutton offal stew with crumbled flatbread? Make it up to me with a salted duck egg." Yu Ping looked at Zheng Hui longingly.

"In your dreams."

"Just one!" Yu Ping shifted his gaze from the salted duck eggs piled atop rice husks and looked pitifully at Zheng Hui. "Brother, not even one? I haven't had one in over half a year. I guarantee today's salted duck eggs are especially good. Crack one open and oil will spurt all over your face."

"Were the salted duck eggs from the fifteenth last month eaten by dogs?" Zheng Hui shot Yu Ping a sideways glance.

"Woof, woof." Yu Ping's expression remained calm.

Li Qingxian laughed.

Zheng Hui was so irritated that he laughed. "If you were my son, I'd beat you three times a day! Wait until you slim down before you eat."

Yu Ping sighed.

Zheng Hui suddenly glanced at Li Qingxian, then at the small pile of salted duck eggs. Turning to Yu Ping, he said, "Go pick four salted duck eggs. If they don't spurt oil all over your face, you pay!"

"Brother Zheng is righteous!" Yu Ping was overjoyed. He clasped his fists, darted over to carefully select the salted duck eggs, then carried them back gingerly and distributed them among the three.

"They'll definitely ooze oil!"

"Four bowls of mutton offal soup, three white-flour buns, two cut up and one whole, coming right up..."

As the four lightly tapped their eggshells, Old Zhang, who looked around sixty, came over with a middle-aged man whose features resembled his. They carried a tray and carefully set down the mutton offal soup and white-flour buns placed in bowls.

"Thank you." Li Qingxian gently pushed the bowl of mutton offal soup toward himself, then quickly withdrew his hand from the scalding hot bowl.

The large coarse white porcelain bowl held milky-white soup, heaped with strips of mutton lung, liver, heart, stomach, and other offal. Scattered chopped scallions rested atop the little mountain of meat as steam churned upward.

With a gentle inhale, he caught an extremely faint muttony, pungent odor beneath the fragrant aroma. On a second inhale, the scent of scallions dispersed that unpleasant odor, leaving behind an intense meat fragrance.

They had truly given them a generous portion of offal.

Li Qingxian glanced at the bowls of other diners. None had as much meat as the four bowls here.

"Master Zheng, please enjoy." The father and son stood beside them.

"Go on with your work. Don't mind us." Zheng Hui waved a broad hand.

"All right, enjoy your meal. Just say the word if you need anything." Old Zhang left as he spoke.

Zheng Hui held a white-flour bun in his left hand and pinched its edge between the thumb and forefinger of his right. Pinch and tear, pinch and tear—he broke off thumb-sized pieces and tossed them one after another into the mutton offal soup, smooth and practiced.

Han Anbo poured half a bowl of cut-up white-flour bun into his mutton offal soup, set the remaining half aside, and lowered his head to eat.

"What a waste of Heaven's gifts..."

Yu Ping muttered softly. He first poured in some white pepper, then scooped a spoonful of chili into his bowl. After deeply inhaling its aroma, he stirred with his chopsticks and said, "Brother Han, mutton offal soup needs pepper and chili to remove the odor and bring out the fragrance. Eating it like that, you won't taste much."

Han Anbo smiled and continued eating his mutton offal soup with crumbled buns, adding neither ground pepper nor chili oil.

Following the way he used to eat it, Li Qingxian poured the entire bowl of chopped white-flour bun into the mutton offal soup, sprinkled in pepper, then scooped up half a spoonful of chili oil, preparing to add it.

"You've only just recovered from your illness. Wait a few days before eating spicy food," Han Anbo said, looking up.

"Right. Don't eat spicy food these next few days, and use less pepper too," Zheng Hui said.

"All right."

Li Qingxian smiled and put the chili oil back. He split open a peeled salted duck egg. Oil oozed from it, bright yellow and gleaming.

He bit into the yolk. It was soft and delicate, filled with salty fragrance.

"The rich eat as the rich eat, the poor eat as the poor eat. Mutton offal with crumbled buns is still a way to eat..." Zheng Hui nagged as he skillfully tore apart the hard white-flour bun.

The other three exchanged looks and sped up their eating.

After only a few bites, Yu Ping suddenly looked around in every direction, then stood up, squeezed into the crowd, and vanished.

"Like a monkey. Qingxian, don't you learn from him." Zheng Hui shook his head and continued tearing up his white-flour bun.

Li Qingxian lowered his head, blew over the scorching soup, and cautiously took a sip. The pepper covered the offal's mixed flavors, while the meat was richly fragrant. The mutton offal had been cooked to perfection: what should be chewy was chewy, and what should be soft was soft.

Just as the white-flour bun in Zheng Hui's hand had shrunk to half a palm's size, Yu Ping came over carrying a bamboo steamer.

"Make way, don't bump into me..." Yu Ping skirted around those blocking his way, sat on the long bench, and set down the steamer and a paper packet of soft flatbread.

Nine steaming shumai were lined up inside the steamer.

The three stopped eating and stared at Yu Ping in unison.

"What are you looking at me for? Eat your mutton offal with crumbled buns." Yu Ping slowly pulled the steamer toward himself until it reached the edge of the table.

The three said nothing and stared straight at him.

"I don't have buns, of course I can't eat my fill."

The three still said nothing.

Yu Ping gritted his teeth, sighed, and said, "One each. No more than that!"

Speaking reluctantly, he picked up his chopsticks. One hand guarded the steamer while the other placed one shumai each onto the three men's plates.

After Zheng Hui finished his, he smacked his lips. "Tsk, beef and radish filling. A great tonic."

Yu Ping lowered his head.

Li Qingxian and Han Anbo ate while laughing.

After finishing one shumai, Li Qingxian went back to eating mutton offal.

Yu Ping wolfed down two shumai, then suddenly picked up another and placed it on Li Qingxian's plate. Under the astonished gazes of the three, Yu Ping hesitated for a moment before putting down another.

"No more than that." Yu Ping looked as though life was worse than death as he lowered his head and slurped down mutton offal soup.

Zheng Hui and Han Anbo's gazes softened.

Li Qingxian looked at the shumai beneath the morning light, shining as brightly as that orange. He smiled happily, picked it up with his chopsticks, put it in his mouth, and chewed in great bites.

After finishing the shumai, he drank more mutton soup.

The meat warmed his stomach; the soup warmed his heart.

Yu Ping looked up at Zheng Hui. "Did it ooze oil?"

Zheng Hui helplessly glanced at the eggshells by his bowl. "It did."

Yu Ping breathed a sigh of relief.

Han Anbo pushed his remaining half bowl of cut-up white-flour buns in front of Yu Ping.

"Thanks!" Yu Ping beamed. Carrying his bowl, he walked toward Old Zhang and shouted as he went, "Old Zhang, add half a bowl of mutton soup—mutton soup, no mutton!"

"Coming right up!"

Before long, Yu Ping returned holding his mutton soup, happily eating plain mutton soup with crumbled buns.

"Now that's the right flavor!"

After Han Anbo finished eating, he swept his gaze around, briefly lingering on several people carrying weapons.

The sun slowly rose, and Happiness Street grew increasingly crowded.

Once the four finished eating, their whole bodies were warm, with tiny beads of sweat appearing on their foreheads.

"Comfortable!" Zheng Hui chuckled as he took a handful of rust-speckled copper coins from a leather pouch, counted them, and selected some to pay. Old Zhang refused several times, but only accepted when he truly could not refuse anymore.

After the four had gone only a few steps, someone behind them shouted, "Old Zhang, add more mutton. Don't be so stingy."

"All right, sir!"

Zheng Hui suddenly stopped and turned to look at the person ordering mutton soup, his brow furrowing.

Li Qingxian immediately grew curious. Zheng Hui was famous for his good temper, so why had his expression suddenly turned displeased?

Li Qingxian looked over. The man had removed his saber and placed it on the table. With one foot on the long bench, he sat with the swagger of a great commander.

Smiling, he sprinkled ground pepper over his mutton soup. Beneath the steam, huge chunks of mutton were piled solidly into a small mountain.

There was far more than the mutton or offal at any other table.

After looking him over, Li Qingxian saw that the man had ordinary features and wore what seemed to be a Military and Horse Bureau officer's uniform. Like Zheng Hui, he bore a white horse badge of the Subordinate Tenth Rank on his chest.

Could Captain Zheng have a grudge against this man?

As Li Qingxian pondered, Zheng Hui turned away with a dark expression and walked forward.

"Full and fed. Time to patrol the streets."

Li Qingxian did not ask further and followed behind.

The four walked outward along Happiness Street, like a giant whale plunging into a school of fish. Everyone around them slid aside to either side.

As they walked, Zheng Hui said, "After we inspect Wanping Street, we'll follow the old rules and split into two groups. We'll meet beneath Wanping Memorial Arch at the end. The earlier we finish, the earlier we return to the yamen. Anbo, partner with Yu Ping. I'll take Qingxian. Once he's feeling better, we'll switch back."

"Yes," Han Anbo answered.

"Thank you, Captain Zheng," Li Qingxian said.

"What's there to thank me for? As long as you don't cause trouble for me, that's better than anything. But you're more well-behaved than usual today. Did your illness muddle your head, or have you finally gotten your bearings?" Zheng Hui asked loudly as he walked.

The street's clamor softened Zheng Hui's voice.

Li Qingxian said, "I'm not sure either. I just feel that I need to live differently. I can't keep muddling through like before. But I can't say exactly how yet."

Zheng Hui's eyes lit up. He turned and heavily slapped Li Qingxian on the shoulder. "Good! Lord Li's spirit in Heaven will surely be comforted!"

"Well done, Little Li!" Han Anbo said with a chuckle.