Popcorn had to be eaten at the right time

The next day, when Han Cheng came to the small kitchen, he did not look into the pot first.

He set a length of thick rope beside the table. It was muddy, and its end had frayed. Zhao Hai followed with two planks, asking Uncle Zhou the moment he entered whether he could borrow somewhere to wash his hands.

"Did you go to haul a cart or take one apart?" Fang Ming asked.

"To look at those two stretches of mountain road." Han Cheng shook out the rope. "I was too busy hurrying back yesterday to get a good look at the newly washed-out muddy ruts. If we wait until we're pushing the carts tomorrow to look, it'll be too late."

He looked down at the fresh mud on his boots, lifted his feet, and scraped them outside the door a couple of times. When that still failed to clean them, he simply left his boots beside the threshold and changed into the cloth shoes by the stove before going farther in. He had complained about that muddy rut the whole way here; now that he was at the small kitchen, he could not bring its mud under the dining table too.

Zhao Hai washed his hands by the well, then returned and leaned the planks against the foot of the wall. He had gone with Han Cheng to the first slope outside the sect gates that day. Rainwater had washed down from the roadside, leaving the track the wheels usually followed deeply sunken. If all they did was push hard from behind, the harder they pushed, the more easily the cart would tilt.

"Put these underneath, and the wheels will get across more easily." He patted the planks. "They're nothing precious, but we still have to bring them back afterward. Don't leave Han Cheng to shoulder an entire cart just because he's got broad shoulders."

"If you're willing to lend a hand, I'll have half as much to shoulder," Han Cheng said.

"Haven't I already found us the planks?"

As they spoke, the two of them coiled the rope again. After hearing the gist of it, Chen An felt somewhat more reassured. Han Cheng wanted a serving of BB Popcorn, but he was not planning to rely on it to push two carts up the mountain; he had already prepared the planks the road needed and the rope they would have to use.

A pot of chicken and potatoes was simmering on the stove. The chicken pieces had first been pan-fried to render some fat, then sliced ginger and sections of scallion had been added and fried until fragrant. The potatoes had been cut into fairly large chunks so that, simmered with the chicken, they would not fall apart into a pot of mush as soon as they reached the table. The steam rising beside the lid carried a savory sauce aroma. After listening to all that talk of pushing carts, Fang Ming still could not resist asking, "Can we have lunch a little earlier?"

"No," Uncle Zhou answered before Chen An could. "We'll eat when it's cooked through."

"I was only asking."

"You ask every day." Zhao Hai picked up the length of rope. "How about I tie you up by the door so you don't come back in to ask again in a moment?"

Fang Ming turned to Chen An, who was lifting the lid to check the heat and did not speak up for him at all. He could only finish picking over the greens he had brought and set them beside the stove, though his eyes kept following that pot.

It was still early for lunch, so Chen An was going to practice his Soul Power for a while. He left Uncle Zhou to watch the fire. Han Cheng did not stop him either, only saying they could settle the timing when he returned. After all, if he delayed the child's training over an ordinary cart escort assignment, he would feel guilty even while eating the popcorn tomorrow.

Near noon, Shao Heng also entered the courtyard. Fang Ming was carrying a basin of washed bowls and asked when he saw him, "You didn't finish what you were saying yesterday. Do you still want popcorn tomorrow morning?"

"I already went to speak to Elder Gu." Shao Heng drew water by the well. "I'll train as usual tomorrow morning, without waiting for Xiao An to make it."

Han Cheng looked up from the table. "Didn't you want some too?"

"Wanting it is one thing." Shao Heng dried his hands. "I'm practicing positioning this time, not going all out with Soul Power right from the start. If I really use too much, I can just stop and rest. Once your carts reach the slope, you can't tell the carters to leave both carts there and wait until I finish training before moving on."

"It won't be quite that urgent," Han Cheng said.

"You might not be in a hurry, but Fang Ming is." Shao Heng pointed at the bowls in his hands. "If you get back late, who'll taste lunch for him first?"

"I have a mouth of my own," Fang Ming said hastily.

"Then there's even less need to worry about them."

They all laughed, but Han Cheng took this kindness to heart. He and Shao Heng knew each other well; there was no need to make a solemn business of thanking him. Getting tomorrow's work done properly would be more useful than standing by the dining table exchanging courtesies at length.

By the time Chen An returned from training, the potatoes had soaked up plenty of broth, and the chicken pieces showed no trace of blood when lifted with chopsticks. He had Uncle Zhou uncover the pot, then brought out the greens stir-fried in another pan. When everyone heard they could eat, Fang Ming was the first to grab a bowl, but Zhao Hai reached out with his chopsticks first and took a piece of potato from the edge of the pot.

"Still hot!" He extended his chopsticks away from himself and blew on it twice before daring to put it in his mouth.

"Who told you to snatch one from the edge?" Uncle Zhou said.

"The ones at the edge absorb the flavor." Zhao Hai had a sound argument, but his scalded tongue refused to let him snatch a second piece.

Han Cheng ate more slowly this time. After hurrying back to the sect yesterday, he had done nothing but shovel his bowl of rice topped with steamed egg into his mouth. Sitting at ease today, he could finally taste how the potatoes were soft on the outside but still held a little shape within, and how the chicken had not simmered dry and tough. Only after eating half a bowl did he explain the mountain road situation to Chen An in detail.

"We'll load the carts at the Inner Storehouse near the end of the hour of the Rabbit tomorrow morning. The two carts will be carrying ordinary rice and salt, nothing heavy enough to need an elder. We should reach the first slope outside the sect gates around the start of the hour of the Dragon. We have to walk alongside the carts and only use Soul Power to steady them if a wheel goes askew. After that first stretch, the carters will rest by the road for a quarter of an hour before continuing toward the village."

"You want to eat it at the Inner Storehouse?" Chen An asked.

"That was my original plan." Han Cheng shook his head. "But loading the carts won't use much Soul Power, and the clock starts as soon as the popcorn enters our mouths. We'd waste part of that time sitting on the carts waiting to head down the slope."

"Then come to the small kitchen." Uncle Zhou picked up the rice paddle. "Pass through here before you leave the sect. I'll leave the little stove beside this one free. Chen Chuan and I will serve breakfast as usual. We won't let the two of you throw off the timing."

Han Cheng did not answer immediately. He knew Uncle Zhou made it sound easy, but come morning, twenty-odd mouths would be waiting, and even one fewer pair of hands would make the small kitchen busier.

"I can bring the rice out first," he said. "And I can come over tonight to pick over the vegetables."

"No need tonight." Uncle Zhou glanced at him. "Go back and get enough sleep. You're escorting the carts tomorrow morning. If you come running here to help in the kitchen tonight and doze off on the road, who's going to lend Zhao Hai a hand?"

Zhao Hai had just picked up a piece of chicken. Hearing his name, he immediately nodded. "That's right. If both carts are left to me alone, I'll end up treading right through the planks."

"It's not all on you." Han Cheng could not help laughing. "I'll be there too."

"Then don't wear yourself out first."

Chen An waited until they finished speaking before settling his own arrangements. Near the end of the hour of the Rabbit tomorrow morning, he would prepare the regular meal first, with Uncle Zhou in charge of serving it. He would spare a little time from the stove to make a small bowl of fresh BB Popcorn before the two men left. They would share it, and for an hour after eating it, their Soul Power would recover about thirty percent faster than usual. Wherever they actually used Soul Power, it would only be worthwhile if they seized that rest stop along the way to circulate it and recover. If the effect had already expired by the return journey, they would escort the carts as usual, rather than expect this one bowl to last from morning into the afternoon.

"Just that one little bowl?" Fang Ming looked at Shao Heng, as though regretting it on someone else's behalf.

"I'm having breakfast tomorrow." Shao Heng reached out and tapped the bowl Fang Ming was nearly tilting sideways. "Mind your own first."

"This piece was mine to begin with."

"Then who are you displaying it to on the rim of your bowl?"

Fang Ming shielded his bowl, afraid that if they kept talking, he might not even keep that piece. Watching beside them, Chen An felt like laughing. Earlier, he had worried they would argue over who got to eat the popcorn first and throw the timing into disarray. Now, the two men had adjusted what they could on their own.

After lunch, Han Cheng and Zhao Hai did not hurry away. They helped put away the tables and chairs, then went to the Inner Storehouse to check the planks and rope once more. Chen An placed the spatula and salt jar within easy reach, then rinsed the rice Uncle Zhou would steam the next morning. With the Dragon-Transforming Pot returned inside his body and the stove work finished, it was time to attend to his own studies.

At the storehouse, the rice and salt had already been divided into two cartloads. Han Cheng counted the sacks one by one and told the carters to place the heavier rice sacks in the middle of the cart beds rather than pile them all along the rear edge. Zhao Hai tried sliding a plank beside a wheel, pulled it back out, and checked its width. It would just cover the deepest part of the muddy rut.

"You're being more particular about this than you usually are about eating," a carter teased him.

"If I spill my food, I can get another helping. If a rice sack spills on the slope, will you pick it up grain by grain for me?" Han Cheng pulled the knot tight and only straightened after making sure a jolt would not loosen it. The carter waved a hand with a laugh, then reached over and retied the rope on the other side too.

On the way back, Zhao Hai asked whether they should shave the planks a little thinner. Han Cheng said there was no need. If they really encountered soft mud tomorrow morning, they should first get the planks firmly under the wheels and only use Soul Power if they truly could not lift the carts. They could not become too lazy even to use the planks they had brought simply because they knew there would be popcorn.

Watching him check the stove, Uncle Zhou asked, "Nervous about tomorrow morning?"

"I'm afraid their carts will arrive while I'm still washing rice."

"I'll wash the rice," Uncle Zhou said. "You just watch the heat for that little bowl."

Chen An agreed and glanced once more at the bowls laid out in the courtyard. What everyone would eat tomorrow morning and when they would leave had all been settled clearly, but Han Cheng and the others were the ones actually taking to the road. The popcorn could help for a short stretch; they would still have to deal with the mud underfoot and the cartwheels themselves.