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Chapter 37: The Aroma of Big Meat
In the kitchen, a rich, savory meat fragrance was spreading through the air.
Xiao Yan, crouched by the stove helping to tend the fire, inhaled deeply—and her mouth instantly flooded with saliva.
"Brother, can we eat now?" the little girl asked, barely able to contain her impatience.
"Just a little longer, it’ll be ready," Lu Qing replied, though his own legs were starting to ache.
In his past life, he’d been a carnivore. But since arriving in this world, aside from fish, he hadn’t had a proper meal of meat. Now, the intoxicating scent of slow-cooked pork was making his cravings unbearable.
Lu Qing was preparing Braised Pork.
Of course, due to the lack of proper seasonings, it was a simplified version—perhaps more accurately described as Stewed Meat.
He’d decided to make it because, at the Big Market, he’d stumbled upon a vendor selling Soybean Paste.
It was an elderly farmer woman, selling it in a clay jar. He almost missed it at first. But after tasting a small amount, he was delighted—the flavor was surprisingly close to soy sauce, just lacking in saltiness.
Eagerly, he bought a generous amount, leaving the woman visibly grateful.
Taking the chance, Lu Qing asked about the recipe. She revealed it was handed down from her grandfather, once a chef in a high-end restaurant in a distant city. After some misfortune, he’d ended up in this village, and the family had kept the recipe alive.
After marrying, her husband’s family was poor, so she started making the paste to help make ends meet. Beans were cheap, and even if the paste failed, the loss wasn’t much.
But people here weren’t very fond of the paste—she’d been selling it at the Big Market for years, and Lu Qing was her biggest customer so far.
Hearing her story, Lu Qing felt a pang of sympathy. He bought another jar, earning even more gratitude from her.
With that unexpected find, he’d spent extra time browsing the market. But no further surprises came.
Still, he did spot an old man selling sugar. He bought some—expensive, yes, but Lu Qing never hesitated when it came to food.
With these new ingredients in hand, he finally decided to treat himself to a proper Braised Pork meal.
He cut half-fat, half-lean pork belly into chunks, blanched them first, then seared them until golden. Then he set the meat aside and began cooking the paste—sautéing it until its aroma bloomed.
He added the slightly browned pork, stir-fried it briefly, then added sugar, salt, and water. The pot simmered, and the fragrance began to rise.
It wasn’t the authentic version, not by a long shot. But given the limitations, this was as close as he could get.
Still, even a simple version of pork, when cooked with care, was irresistible.
After enough time, the aroma filled the kitchen—so rich and deep that both siblings couldn’t help but salivate.
Lu Qing judged the time had come. He lifted the lid.
A wave of hot steam burst out, carrying with it an overwhelming scent of meat. The fragrance instantly flooded the entire house, drifting even beyond the walls.
Outside, a passing villager paused mid-step, nose twitching.
“That’s… that’s huge meat,” he murmured, eyes widening. “How much pork is Lu Qing cooking in there?”
Curious, he considered knocking—but hesitated, unsure if it was proper.
After a moment, his stomach growled. He gave up, turning back toward home.
“If I stay any longer, I’ll end up sneaking in for a bite,” he thought, hurrying off.
The scent kept spreading. Neighboring houses caught the aroma.
“Is that the Lu family?” one woman said, sniffing the air. “What on earth are they cooking? It smells amazing.”
“Since Lu Ming and his wife passed, I thought Lu Qing and Xiao Yan would struggle. But now I see they’re doing just fine.”
“I heard this morning that Lu Qing and Da An went to the Big Market, bought a ton of things, and even returned all the grain and oil they’d borrowed.”
“Chen Laodaifu really does care for his disciples.”
“Shame my son’s no good. I’d love to get him apprenticed to the old doctor.”
“Please—your boy can’t even read ten letters. He wouldn’t understand a single page of a medical text.”
“Don’t go blaming me—your son isn’t any better. Can’t even count past ten. Let’s not point fingers, eh?”
Lu Qing didn’t hear any of it.
Right now, he was reducing the sauce, thickening it to a glossy finish. Then he began serving the meat.
The fully cooked pork pieces, when lifted into the bowl, trembled slightly—soft, glistening, utterly tempting.
Even Lu Qing, who’d just made it, found himself staring, momentarily speechless.
He quickly stir-fried a batch of greens over high heat, then declared, “Dinner’s ready.”
“Xiao Yan, this is yours—eat slowly, it’s hot,” he said, placing a generous piece on her bowl.
“Got it, Brother,” she replied sweetly, then started blowing on her food, trying to cool it down.
After serving her, he took a piece for himself.
He blew gently, then took a bite.
His eyes lit up.
The pork had simmered long enough—fully infused with flavor. Tender, with just the right chew, rich and deeply savory.
One bite, and Lu Qing exhaled in quiet satisfaction.
All the effort had been worth it.
Yes, without proper seasonings, it wasn’t as layered or perfect as the Braised Pork he’d made in his past life.
But here, now, in this world, to taste something like this—after so long—was more than enough.
“Brother, this meat is amazing!” Xiao Yan said, mouth full, grease glistening on her lips.
“Of course it is,” Lu Qing grinned proudly. “I worked hard on it.”
“You cook so well! I want to learn from you, so I can make all sorts of delicious food myself!”
“That’s my girl,” he chuckled. “Just keep eating well, and when you’re a little older, I’ll teach you everything.”
“Deal!”
The two enjoyed a hearty, satisfying dinner.
After cleaning up, Lu Qing took a piece of cloth and headed next door to Zhang Da Ye’s house.
“Zhang Ye Ye! Zhang Ye Ye!”
“What is it, Ah Qing?” Zhang Da Ye stepped out from his home.
“Is your second daughter-in-law home?”
Zhang Er Sheng, Zhang Da Ye’s second daughter-in-law, was renowned in the village for her needlework.
“She’s inside. What do you need?” Zhang Da Ye called into the house. “Older daughter-in-law! Come out—Ah Qing’s here with something to ask!”
A woman stepped out, wiping her hands. “What’s up, Ah Qing?”
“Well, I bought some cloth at the Big Market this morning. I want to make two new outfits for Xiao Yan, but I can’t sew. I’d like to ask you to help—of course, I’ll pay you for your time.”
Lu Qing held up the fabric.
“Pay? Nonsense,” Zhang Er Sheng said, taking the cloth. “Neighbors help each other. Just give it to me—I’ll figure out the design. I’ll have Xiao Yan come by tomorrow to measure her size. I’ll get it done in a couple of days.”
“Besides,” Zhang Da Ye added, “you brought over such a huge piece of meat for us at noon. That was more than enough generosity.”
“I can’t have you work for free,” Lu Qing insisted with a smile. “Then it’s settled. I’ve got to go—got some reading to do.”
“Good, good. Studying’s important—go on, go!”
Back home, Lu Qing watched Xiao Yan playing in the yard.
Her clothes were still the same ones he’d altered from his old ones—now patched and frayed in several places.
Just the other day, while washing, he’d noticed some of the stitching was coming apart.
Today, at the Big Market, he’d seen a vendor selling cloth—average quality, expensive, but he bought some anyway.
He wanted someone to make her a couple of new outfits.
He hadn’t told her yet. He planned to surprise her tomorrow.
That night, Xiao Yan didn’t see the black little beast. She fell asleep with a quiet sigh.
The next morning, she woke up feeling a little down.
But her mood lifted quickly—when she learned about the new clothes.
Two days later, the dresses were finished.
When she put them on, her eyes sparkled. She showed them off for days, beaming with pride.
With supplies now well-stocked from the Big Market, Lu Qing stayed in the village.
Every day, he visited Chen Laodaifu to study. Afterward, he tended to the small garden—planting vegetables, tending the soil. In the afternoons, he’d ponder how to make meals taste better with limited ingredients.
Occasionally, he’d go fishing to feed the Nighttime Spirit Fox.
Life settled into a steady, peaceful rhythm.
Then, one morning, as he and Xiao Yan returned to the half-mountain cottage, Chen Laodaifu told him:
“You no longer need to study the Hundred Herbs Scripture.”
(End of Chapter)
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