Sun Wukong squatted atop a large rock by the stream, idly dragging his Golden Staff back and forth across the water, stirring the current into little whirlpools.
Chu Yang took ingredients and cooking utensils from the Storage Bag and set up a stove on a patch of flat ground beside the stream.
Today, he planned to make a pot of hot noodle soup. They had traveled all day, and everyone was tired. A bowl of steaming noodles would wash away more than half their exhaustion.
He first rinsed the flour with stream water, kneaded it into a smooth ball of dough, and covered it with a damp cloth to rest. Then he chopped some scallions, ginger, and garlic and stir-fried them in oil before slicing the piece of cured meat they had bought in town that morning and tossing it into the wok.
The cured meat sizzled in the hot oil as its fat rendered out, releasing an enticing smoky aroma.
Then he added water to the pot, along with several dried shiitake mushrooms and a small handful of goji berries. Once it came to a boil over high heat, he turned it down to simmer slowly.
While the broth simmered, he began rolling out the noodles.
The dough was rolled into a thin sheet, folded over, then cut with a knife into evenly sized noodles.
His knife work was clean and swift. Every strand was distinct, as neat as if they had been measured with a ruler.
"Brother Chu Yang, those hands of yours... tsk, tsk, tsk." Zhu Bajie poked half his head out of the water, practically drooling into the stream. "Just watching you has made Old Pig hungry."
Chu Yang smiled. "Almost done. Get out first and dry yourself off."
The broth was nearly ready, so he