The Third Ring, Still for the Kettle

Three days before Rongrong's seventh birthday, she cornered Chen An at the Kitchen door.

"You haven't forgotten the meal you promised me last time, have you?"

"No."

"What are you making?"

"If I told you, would it still count as something new?"

Rongrong stared at him for a long while, but his face gave nothing away, so she had to ask Uncle Zhou instead. Uncle Zhou was picking through vegetables. Without even lifting his head, he said he was only responsible for buying ingredients; if she really wanted to know, she could wait until her birthday.

"You two sound exactly alike."

"That proves we haven't coordinated our stories," Chen An said.

Over the past few months, Rongrong had not brought up refusing to train again. After learning that day that the Seven Treasure Pagoda could only hold seven rings, she had indeed moped for a while. But starting the next day, when Gu Rong took her out to practice support, she still went along. She still got angry when she released it too early, and when she got the timing right, she would run over to tell Chen An, describing it in even more detail than Gu Rong, who had seen it with his own eyes.

After listening to her a few times, Chen An understood that trying to comfort her on her birthday with "seven is good too" would most likely earn him an eye roll. All she wanted in the first place was a dish she had never eaten before. He just needed to cook it properly.

The night before her birthday, Uncle Zhou banked the day's cooking fires and discovered that Chen An was still soaking rice beside the basin.

"Making sticky rice tomorrow?"

"Eight Treasure Rice."

"No wonder you bought so much dried fruit and nuts today." Uncle Zhou lifted the cloth beside him, saw the red beans that had been soaking since daytime, and added, "Making red bean paste too? I'll have Chen Chuan tend the front stove tomorrow morning. You can use the small stove."

"I'll cook the red beans tonight. The rice will soak overnight, so steaming it tomorrow morning will take less time."

Chen An submerged the washed glutinous rice in clean water. As his fingers brushed through it, the grains sank, still a little hard. If he wanted it soft and sticky tomorrow without turning into a mushy lump, simply adding more water to cook it would not do. Only by soaking it thoroughly first, then steaming it in a basket, would the grains hold their shape.

The red beans could not be rushed either. The soaked beans went into the pot to simmer slowly. Once their skins split and their insides cooked soft, he mashed them into a paste and passed it through a sieve to remove the skins. Chen An added a little sugar to the pot and stirred slowly over low heat. The bean paste grew thicker as it reduced, until at last, when his spoon swept across the bottom of the pot, it only slowly flowed back together.

Uncle Zhou tended the fire for him twice. Seeing that the paste had finally reduced enough, he took the spoon from him.

"All right, I'll scoop it out. You've got cooking to do tomorrow. Go back and sleep."

"Let the bean paste cool before covering it. Don't let condensation drip into it."

"I know." Uncle Zhou rolled his eyes at him. "Are you teaching me how to run the Kitchen?"

Only then did Chen An leave with his mind at ease. Thinking that Rongrong was certain to come snooping again tomorrow, he even had Uncle Zhou move the basin of bean paste to the back.

Sure enough, Rongrong arrived early the next day, though she did not burrow into the cooking area.

She practiced with Gu Rong for a while that morning and still had sweat on her forehead when she returned. Catching a sweet scent by the courtyard gate, she stopped at once.

"Are you cooking sugar?"

"You've got a good nose." Chen An settled the steamer lid firmly in place. "Lunch first. Yours comes later."

"I'll just take one look."

"You said that yesterday too, then picked out two of the red dates I bought and took them."

"Those two were small. They wouldn't have looked good in it anyway."

She made it sound as though she had been helping him select ingredients. Suppressing a smile, Chen An steered her toward the dining table. The small stove was steaming her birthday dish, but both the front courtyard and this side still needed lunch. He could hardly leave twenty people's bowls empty just because she was impatient.

Uncle Zhou served the meal as usual. Chen An waited until the lunch rush had passed before turning back to give that bowl of sweet rice his full attention.

The glutinous rice was already steamed through, each grain translucent as he scooped it out, steam rising along the rim of the bowl. While it was hot, he folded in a little sugar and oil, mixing evenly without stirring hard enough to break the grains. The red dates were pitted and snipped open, and the lotus seeds had been cooked soft beforehand; soaked dried longan flesh, raisins, pine nuts, and walnuts were all laid out within reach. He spread a thin coating of oil inside a deep bowl, arranged the red dates and lotus seeds on the bottom, laid the other fruit and nuts around the edges, then pressed in a layer of glutinous rice.

He placed the sweet, fragrant red bean paste in the center, sealed it in with glutinous rice on all sides, and gently pressed the surface flat with his palm. If this layer was packed too loosely, it would fall apart when he turned it out later; if he packed it too tightly, it would lose its soft, sticky texture.

Watching him smooth the edges of the bowl over and over, Uncle Zhou laughed. "You're taking more care with one bowl of rice than you did chopping half a basin of vegetables yesterday."

"It's her birthday rice. If it falls apart, there isn't a second bowl to show her."

"If you really do make it fall apart, I'd rather like to see how Rongrong laughs at you."

"Please don't sit around waiting for that."

Chen An returned the bowl to the steamer, letting the hot steam meld the aromas of rice, bean paste, fruit, and nuts. Lunch had been cleared away in the courtyard, but Ning Fengzhi was still handling sect affairs, so Rongrong stayed to talk with Gu Rong. She had originally said she did not want to know the dish's name, yet she looked toward the cooking area at least three times that afternoon.

Uncle Zhou and Chen Chuan still handled dinner. Chen An tended only that final basket of rice, and once Ning Fengzhi returned from outside, they all gathered in the little courtyard.

Rongrong had received plenty of presents that day. What Grandpa Sword had given her was on her left, what Grandpa Bone had given her was on her right, and even the gifts Ning Fengzhi had brought back were arranged neatly. Yet the first thing she asked after sitting down was, "Where's my new rice dish?"

"Just finished steaming. Have some dishes first," Uncle Zhou said.

"I was only asking. I didn't say I wanted it right now."

Who would believe that? Gu Rong saw that the chopsticks in her hand were practically pointing toward the cooking area and was about to tease her, but Ning Fengzhi had already placed a helping of one of her favorite dishes in her bowl. She had practiced with her pagoda that morning and waited a while that afternoon. When it was finally time to eat, she did start off eating faster than usual.

Only after they had eaten the hot dishes on the table did Chen An bring out the steaming bowl. White steam shot up around its edges. Holding the bottom through a cloth, he first inverted it onto a plate, then slowly lifted the bowl away.

The red dates and lotus seeds lay in a distinct pattern on top, while longan and raisins showed their colors along the soft, sticky rice. The whole mound was rounded and full. As the steam dispersed, the sweet scent of red bean paste emerged with it. Rongrong, who had just said she was "only asking," had already picked up her spoon.

"Eight Treasure Rice," Chen An said. "Careful, it's hot."

"Eight treasures?"

Rongrong glanced at the rice, then at her own hand. She did not summon her Martial Soul, but picked up her spoon, scooped a small bite first, and blew on it.

"One more than seven treasures," she said. "That's pretty good."

The glutinous rice was soft but chewy in her mouth, coated in red bean paste, yet its sweetness did not overwhelm the fragrance of the fruit and nuts themselves. The lotus seeds were soft and floury, and the red dates still had a little sweet tartness; she dug out another spoonful, exposing the bean paste hidden in the middle.

"Uncle Zhou, did you smell this last night?"

"I did," Uncle Zhou said. "Someone was also watching that pot of red beans, terrified I'd make the fire too hot."

Chen An was just about to say he had not been that bad when Gu Rong spoke up.

"I was wondering why he hadn't even come to check on my bowl today. So he put all his attention into this bowl of yours."

"Grandpa Bone, there's some for your bowl too." Chen An pushed another plate over. "Besides, weren't you the one who took the most meat earlier?"

Gu Rong looked at his own bowl and indeed stopped arguing. Since it was Rongrong's birthday, he had been thinking he should not compete with her for it, never expecting that Xiao An had already set aside his share.

Ning Fengzhi tried a few bites. Seeing that even the weariness in his daughter's shoulders and back from her daytime practice was slowly easing now, he put down his spoon.

"Uncle Bone said you were steadier in this morning's practice than last time." He asked Rongrong, "Will you take tomorrow off, or carry on as usual?"

"As usual." Rongrong still had rice in her mouth and swallowed before continuing. "Dad, are you free tomorrow? I'd like you to come watch too."

Ning Fengzhi paused. Over these past days, he had heard plenty from Gu Rong about how his daughter sometimes released too early and sometimes judged the timing very accurately, yet he had never found the time to watch for himself.

"I am. I'll go in the morning."

"Then don't come too late," Rongrong said. "I'm not waiting for you before I start."

"I won't keep you waiting."

Only then was she satisfied, and she lowered her head to scoop up another spoonful of rice.

As they left the table, Rongrong was still thinking about the half plate of eight-treasure rice in the steamer and made a point of turning back to ask Uncle Zhou.

"Will there still be some tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. I'll save it for you."

"Then I'll come eat it after practice."

Seeing how happily she ate, Chen An did not tease her about the dish's name again. After helping Uncle Zhou clear the bowls, he returned to his room and cultivated for a while as usual, then washed up and went to bed. When he reached the small stove the next morning, sure enough, he found Rongrong staring at the half plate of rice saved from yesterday, stubbornly holding off on touching it. Only when Gu Rong called for her did she turn away to practice with her pagoda.