Now that the stonecutter's injured leg had healed, everyone was delighted.
Old Granny's hostility had vanished as well.
The Stonecutter's Wife had gone to Back Mountain and would presumably return soon.
Although Tang Sanzang's leg was still injured, seeing the stonecutter healed made him happier than if his own injury had healed.
Recovery from a grave illness deserved a celebration.
Old Granny asked Tang Sanzang and his disciples to sit down while she went to prepare the meal.
It was no lavish banquet, but she put her heart into it.
Steaming yellow millet rice, bright and golden, carried an auspicious meaning, every grain sweet and fragrant.
She took a few pickled radishes from an earthenware jar, sliced them into shreds, and carefully drizzled on a few drops of sesame oil-crisp, with the savory fragrance of the pickling sauce.
The freshly gathered shepherd's purse was at its greenest and tenderest. She dared not stir-fry it too vigorously, so she put oil in the wok and gave it a quick sizzle and scald, leaving it fragrant and delicious.
She picked some purslane, blanched and chopped it, then mixed it into a coarse-grain batter to fry into pancakes, fragrant and filling.
She poured out some fine white flour, kneaded the dough, let it rest, and made long noodles.
She pressed and rolled the little scraps of dough left over against her finger, dropping them into the broth as little cat's-ear noodles, her young grandson's favorite.
There ought to have been some meat, but with Tang Sanzang and his disciples present, serving meat would have been inappropriate, so she gave up the idea.
Finally, she separately took out some bitter wild greens that were hard to swallow. Bitter and hard to swallow though they were, they filled the belly. She mixed in some of