Three Rings or Not, You Still Had to Eat

Early the next morning, Fang Ming entered the Small Kitchen and first went to check the stool Shao Heng usually sat on.

The stool was there, but its occupant had yet to arrive.

"He agreed so readily yesterday. Don't tell me he got his third soul ring and forgot all about breakfast?"

Uncle Zhou was cracking eggs into a large bowl and did not even look up. "He only just got back. Let him have a full night's sleep. If you have nothing to do, mince that basin of meat."

Fang Ming looked at the stove, then at the row of empty bowls beside Uncle Zhou, and hurriedly rolled up his sleeves. Usually, he arrived late and only had to wait for food; today he had come early, and even a chopping board had been set aside for him.

Chen An added warm water to the beaten eggs a little at a time, stirred them evenly with chopsticks, skimmed off the foam, then set several shallow earthenware basins in the steamer. Cloth covered their rims so condensation would not drip inside, leaving the steamed eggs smooth. With breakfast for twenty-odd people, steaming one little bowl at a time would leave no room on the stove even for the lids, so he divided it among several large basins to be scooped out when they ate.

As Fang Ming minced the meat, he kept glancing at the steamer.

"Another new dish this time?"

"A breakfast dish from home. Steamed eggs with minced meat," Chen An said. "Keep working that slowly, and we can switch to meat patties for lunch."

The chopping immediately grew faster.

The minced meat was mixed with a little salt and scallion-ginger water, then stir-fried first to break it apart. At first, Fang Ming stood far from the wok, afraid of splattering oil; when he saw Chen An lower the ladle and heard the meat crackling against the hot oil, he could not resist edging closer.

"Don't put your head in there too." Uncle Zhou hauled him aside. "Go set out the bowls."

"I still wanted to see how the meat was fried."

"Will watching fill your belly?"

Fang Ming wanted to say yes, but the scallion fragrance from the wok made him swallow first, and even he felt that would not sound very convincing.

By the time the first batch of eggs came out, people had begun taking seats in the courtyard. Uncle Zhou gently touched the surface with the back of a spoon. It quivered, but no water seeped out; Chen An spread the cooked minced meat and a little hot juice from the wok over it. The golden egg custard cradled the fine bits of meat, with a couple of flecks of scallion green at the edges. It was no unusual dish, but fresh from the stove, it drew people's spoons more eagerly than any mountain delicacy.

Zhao Hai had already served himself rice. Seeing Fang Ming carry the basin over, he reached out to take it.

"Wait until more people are here." Fang Ming set the basin farther onto the table. "I minced the meat today. Let me see what it looks like served up first."

"You minced it?" Zhao Hai paused. "There aren't any chopping-board shavings in the meat, are there?"

"If there are, they're all for you."

As the two talked, Shao Heng finally came through the gate. The sweat from yesterday's ring test was gone, and he had washed himself thoroughly. But when he reached his stool and saw a bowl of rice already waiting before him, he stopped short.

"I thought you'd all make something of my third soul ring today."

"We already did," Fang Ming said. "Any later, and the steamed eggs with minced meat would have been nothing but eggs."

Shao Heng sat down and lifted the cover from his bowl. Not a bit of the meat on top was missing. Fang Ming was the loudest when it came to hurrying people along, but when it actually came to saving food, his hands behaved themselves.

"What will Elder Gu have you practice today?" Zhao Hai asked.

"I'll get the positioning down this morning first." Shao Heng scooped up a spoonful of egg custard. "I tested the new ring yesterday. Today it's time to practice those usual steps."

"Got a purple soul ring, and the first thing is learning to use it sparingly," Fang Ming said with a laugh.

"What else? Will you replenish my soul power for me?"

Fang Ming lifted his rice bowl and pretended not to hear. The table had been lively a moment earlier, but after the first bite, the voices grew quieter. The egg custard was soft and tender in the mouth, followed by the savory fragrance of minced meat. Spoon it over the rice, and even the plain rice went down faster than usual. Zhao Hai had meant to say a few more words, but only after swallowing did he notice a little sauce clinging to the edge of his bowl, and he hurriedly scraped up those grains of rice.

By the time Chen An sat down, Uncle Zhou had already saved the half-basin farthest inside for them.

"There's no need to eat this while it's crisp. Take your time," Uncle Zhou said.

"They don't look as if they'll listen." Chen An smiled and picked up his spoon.

He had only eaten a few mouthfuls when someone else came through the courtyard gate. Han Cheng still had his pack slung over his shoulder, and a layer of dry dust coated his boots. Upon entering, he first set his pack against a wall out of the way, then took the water Chen Chuan handed him to wash his hands.

"Senior Brother Han, you came back at just the right time." Fang Ming pulled out the empty stool beside him. "Didn't you say the day before yesterday that you wouldn't arrive until this afternoon?"

"The cart made good time. I rested at the foot of the mountain last night and came back before dawn." Han Cheng sat down and accepted the hot rice Uncle Zhou served him. "Let me have a few bites first. I've gnawed so many dry flatbreads on the road that my teeth can barely recognize hot rice anymore."

"What treasure were you escorting this time?" Zhao Hai asked.

"Rice and salt the sect bought." Han Cheng scooped a large spoonful of steamed eggs over his rice. "If you really think they're treasures, go in my place next time."

One look at the dust covering him, and Zhao Hai immediately lowered his head to eat his own food. Rice and salt were nothing to boast about, but the carts on the mountain road needed watching, and whoever was on duty had to go with them. Han Cheng had taken a box of meat dishes when he left a few days earlier; now he had returned with only a few hard flatbreads left, and was eating even faster than Fang Ming.

"Slow down. There's more in the wok," Chen An said.

"I know," Han Cheng answered indistinctly, but his spoon did not stop.

After finishing a bowl of rice, Han Cheng finally had time to listen to Fang Ming tell him about Shao Heng obtaining his ring. Fang Ming waved his chopsticks, nearly flinging minced meat onto his own sleeve.

"You weren't here yesterday. Let me tell you, that turn Senior Brother Shao made-"

"Hold your chopsticks steady first." Shao Heng reached out to block them. "I still have practice later. It's not your turn to act it out for me."

Seeing that he was in good spirits, Han Cheng smiled and congratulated him. Shao Heng did not want to hear Fang Ming's long account of the sparring match again at the breakfast table, and Han Cheng happened to have something to discuss as well. Once everyone had finished eating, he took the folded duty sheet out of his pack.

"There's another cart trip the day after tomorrow. The sect is sending rice and salt to the estate down the mountain, and we'll bring the purchased vegetables back up on the return trip. This time Zhao Hai and I will escort it together."

"Me?" Zhao Hai's spoon stopped.

"Your master agreed yesterday." Han Cheng pushed the paper toward him. "We'll take the cart down from the Inner Storehouse in the morning. There are two steep slopes on the first stretch. It rained a few days ago, so the wheels can easily sink into the mud. We'll need someone helping at the front and back. We'll have to watch it on the uphill return trip too."

Zhao Hai leaned over for a look, the fragrance of egg custard still lingering in his mouth. He did not complain about the hard work, only asking, "When will we be back?"

"Before lunch, if everything goes smoothly."

"That's pretty good, then."

"I knew lunch was all you were thinking about." Han Cheng took the paper back. "If the wheels get stuck, when we return won't be up to you."

Zhao Hai thought for a moment, then promptly turned to Chen An. "Could you save us two bowls?"

"Saving you food is fine," Uncle Zhou answered first. "But if you're late getting back, the dishes will need reheating before you eat."

Han Cheng did not get up right away, however. On the road, he had seen wheels sink into soft mud. After two people used their soul power to support the cart for a stretch, someone else had to take over guarding the road behind them; it was just that finding replacements for this trip would be difficult. He glanced at Chen An, speaking with some hesitation.

"There's one more thing. That bowl of popcorn you made for Shao Heng and the others before practice-if you have time the day after tomorrow, could you give us some? It doesn't have to be much. Just a small portion."

Shao Heng looked up. He also had to practice the day after tomorrow at the time Gu Rong had set, and had just been planning to ask Chen An after breakfast whether he could make a portion. Now that Han Cheng had brought it up, the two times turned out to clash.

Fang Ming spoke up for him first. "Senior Brother Shao has to practice with his new ring the day after tomorrow too. We had some before practice last time, and it really did save some time compared with just sitting around recovering soul power."

"I know." Han Cheng looked a little embarrassed. "That's why I'm asking first. If it's meant for his practice, just do things as usual. Don't change anything for me."

"What usual?" Shao Heng set down his bowl. "I was still in the woods the past couple of days. I only just thought of it myself."

Zhao Hai looked from one to the other and drew his empty bowl against his chest. A moment ago, he had still been hoping for hot food when they returned the day after tomorrow; now he did not dare join in asking for popcorn. Xiao An's soul power was not firewood beneath the stove, where tossing in a couple more handfuls could cook two pots.

Chen An did not agree immediately. He glanced at the steamer Uncle Zhou was clearing away, then at the duty sheet on the table.

A bowl of popcorn was not large, but if the timing of its preparation was off, that hour would pass before they even had a chance to use it on the road. Besides, breakfast the day after tomorrow could not leave the whole table waiting simply because two people wanted to hurry off on the road or to practice.

"Give me definite times for when you're leaving and stopping to rest," he said. "Come back tomorrow and we'll discuss it. Eat first, and don't put the paper in the meat juices."

Han Cheng looked down and saw that a corner of the duty sheet was already touching the edge of his bowl. He hurriedly pulled it back. Zhao Hai laughed so hard his spoon shook, though not a single grain of rice remained in his own bowl.