Huo Chen, a true master of the hunt, returned in what felt like mere moments, carrying three pheasants and two hares. Xu Ying’s eyes widened with delight at his impressive haul. Placing her hands on her hips, she began to orchestrate the culinary symphony. “Huo Chen, you and Wu Qingsong take care of the pheasants and hares first. Fuying, you guys, come with me!”
Xu Ying, tying on her apron, beckoned them closer. “Look, if you want to learn, you can light a fire right here.” She called Shitou, who, brimming with excitement, quickly ran over to assist; starting fires was his specialty.
Xu Ying selected a large fish, already cleaned and halved, setting the head aside for another use. To ensure everyone could follow along, she deliberately slowed her movements, turning the preparation into a meticulous lesson.
“First, lay the fish flat,” she instructed, demonstrating with a sharp knife, “and cut it in half from the tail to the head. Then, horizontally slice the fish into two large pieces.” Next, she showed them how to separate the flesh from the bones, continuing to slice the larger pieces horizontally into uniform, appropriately sized fillets – “slightly larger is fine,” she advised.
Lu Daya, accustomed to cooking, found the task straightforward and stepped back, allowing others to try. Gu Fuying, eager to learn, volunteered to begin slicing the fish. However, with no prior cooking experience, handling the knife proved challenging. Cutting the fish, let alone achieving thin slices, consumed most of her energy.
Wu Qingsong watched, highly amused, and couldn’t resist a jibe. “You, a young lady, can’t even cut a fish!” he scoffed.
Gu Fuying, stung by his words, retorted, “If you’re so capable, you do it!”
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it!” Wu Qingsong stepped forward, confidently taking the kitchen knife. With practiced ease, he lifted and lowered the blade, and soon, the fish was transformed into neat, uniform fillets.
Gu Fuying’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You can actually cook?” she gasped.
Wu Qingsong smiled faintly. “What’s so surprising? I lost my parents when I was little, and my sister and I relied on each other. My sister was too young. If I didn’t cook, we both would have starved.”
Gu Fuying hadn’t expected such a poignant story. The corners of her eyes softened, and she whispered apologetically, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up your parents.”
Wu Qingsong shrugged, unbothered. “It’s alright. It’s just a fact. I’m used to it.” From childhood, he had endured the taunts of being a “wild brat” without parents, but over time, he had learned to internalize it. The best defense, he knew, was to show no reaction, to render their words powerless.
Xu Ying, seeing the fish perfectly sliced, took over. She placed the fillets in a basin, rinsing them repeatedly to remove any lingering fishy smell, then gently squeezed out the excess water. Transferring them to a plate, she seasoned them with salt, white wine, and the squeezed juice of onion and ginger. After a thorough mixing by hand, she left them to marinate for about ten minutes. Next, she added starch and eggs, mixing everything thoroughly.
These initial steps were relatively simple, and the group quickly grasped the technique.
Then came the side dishes, all brought from home. Bamboo shoots were peeled and sliced into strips, mushrooms into delicate pieces. Ginger was julienned, green onions finely shredded, garlic crushed, and chives chopped.
“After the fish fillets have marinated,” Xu Ying explained, “we’ll pick out the onions and ginger, then add an egg white and a spoonful of starch. Mix it thoroughly with your hands again, and let it marinate for another ten minutes. The fish will absorb the egg white and starch, making it incredibly tender.”
Next, a clean iron pot was heated, and oil was added. When the oil shimmered, Xu Ying introduced their secret soy milk sauce, along with peppercorns, stirring them together until fragrant. An appropriate amount of water followed, then green onion and ginger, and one by one, dark soy sauce, white wine, mature vinegar, sugar. The concoction was brought to a boil over high heat, then simmered over low heat for five minutes, allowing the flavors of pepper, ginger, and green onion to infuse in the soup.
After five minutes, Xu Ying used a slotted spoon to remove the seasoning residue from the soup. “You don’t have to fish them out,” she clarified, “but I don’t like eating them.” Once the residue was gone, lettuce strips and shiitake mushroom slices were added and cooked for two minutes until tender. These were then transferred to a large bowl, ready for the next step.
Finally, the marinated fish fillets were gently placed into the pot. Over low heat, Xu Ying used chopsticks to slowly separate them, preventing them from clumping. Then, the heat was raised, and the fish cooked for a few minutes. Once done, the heat was turned off, and the fish fillets were carefully spooned into the soup bowl, over the bed of vegetables. The aromatic soup was poured over, followed by a sprinkling of five grams of pepper noodles, five grams of chili noodles, and minced garlic.
The final touch: hot oil was heated in the pot once more and poured directly over the chili noodles. As the oil sizzled and hissed, the delicious boiled fish was complete. Along with the intoxicating aroma, everyone began to salivate.
Gu Fuying’s fish was also ready, a respectable attempt though not quite matching Xu Ying’s masterpiece. She gazed at her creation, her eyes red with a mixture of excitement and pride. She picked up her chopsticks, unable to resist, and sampled a piece. It was fragrant and spicy; to her, it was utterly delicious.
“Let me try it!” Wu Qingsong, brimming with curiosity, came over. He took a bite. Though it wasn’t as extraordinary as he’d imagined, it was far from bad. A rare compliment escaped his lips: “Not bad, delicious!”
Gu Fuying snorted, a smug satisfaction on her face. Of course, it’s good, she thought. She then offered her chopsticks to Gu Fuzhu, who was standing nearby. “Cousin, have a taste and tell me if it’s good.”
Under Gu Fuying’s eager gaze, Gu Fuzhu took a bite. The flavors—spicy, fragrant, and the rich aroma of fish—exploded in her mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise. “It’s delicious!” she confirmed.
Believing she had achieved a culinary triumph, Gu Fuying beamed at Xu Ying. She quickly dashed over, picked up a piece of fish cooked by Xu Ying, and popped it into her mouth. After just one bite, her eyes welled up again. She looked at Xu Ying, her face a mask of aggrieved bewilderment. “Why do we follow the same steps, yet yours is so delicious and mine is so plain?”
Xu Ying was amused by her friend’s pitiful expression. “Because I’m in this line of work,” she explained gently. “Whatever you do, you have to be good at it. And if you’ve never cooked before, you need time. If you could cook better than me after just one try, wouldn’t all my years of learning be for nothing?”
Gu Fuying smacked her lips. “But haven’t you just learned cooking?”
Xu Ying shook her head. “I only started cooking last year. But before that, I watched my mother cook every single day. So, in a way, I’d been studying for over ten years before I even started. All those years of watching are like years of studying, right?”
Xu Ying’s explanation instantly comforted Gu Fuying. She felt a surge of reassurance; for a first attempt, her boiled fish was quite good indeed. Looking at her dish, Gu Fuying decided she would take some home for her parents to taste. This was, after all, her very first culinary creation.
However, when comparing Xu Ying’s fish and Gu Fuying’s, everyone clearly preferred Xu Ying’s. Gu Fuying couldn’t help but feel a little deflated as she watched them devour Xu Ying’s dish.
Wu Qingsong, ever the provocateur, stood in front of Gu Fuying, picked up a piece of her fish, and ate it, offering a rare compliment. “Although your knife skills aren’t great, this fish tastes good.”
“Then let’s compare who cooks better,” Gu Fuying challenged, her face alight with anticipation.
Wu Qingsong paused, considering. “It seems to be me,” he concluded, a mischievous glint in his eye.