Two Eggs

Qingqing threw the deformed piece of dough down in exasperation. "This useless thing refuses to listen to me. Sticky and spineless, it's dropped on the floor twice already." She flicked it in disgust.

Yuanzheng looked at it critically. "Judging from the number of black specks I see in it, I would think it's dropped more than twice. We are not putting that into the pot to cook, by the way."

He laid down the last bundle of noodles and dusted off his hands. Glancing at Xiaohu, he reached over and snatched the piece of dough just as Xiaohu was about to nibble it.

"Don't be foolish, it won't taste good. See, now the two of you ruined two perfectly good pieces of dough. Next time if you want to learn how you need to practice slowly. Making noodles takes practice."

Qingqing shrugged her shoulders. "I lack the patience for that kind of thing," she said carelessly.

Yuanzheng looked squarely at her. "No wonder, because patience, too, takes time to acquire."

He checked the boiling water. "Time to cook the noodles."

Carefully, he slid the bundles of noodles into the water and stirred it gently with a pair of chopsticks. The smell of dough being cooked filled the air.

"Why, however did our kitchen get so busy? Are we starting a restaurant here, or is there a show taking place?"

Qingqing and Xiaohu spun round to see an old woman smiling at them from the entrance of the kitchen. She carried a grumpy-looking hen under one arm, and a basket of eggs in the other.

Guiltily, Qingqing backed away into the darkest corner of the kitchen. She immediately recognized the old woman who called Suzhen Madame White and gave the silver tael to her.

"Mother. I'm making some noodles for these two. You don't mind, do you?" Yuanzheng looked up from the pot of water.

"Of course not. Xiaohu, that cut on your leg looks bad. You should ask Physician Xu if he can spare you some salve. He's a kind man, he likely will let you have some for free." Granny Hong glanced at Qingqing, squinting to make out the face that was a pale blur in the shadows. "And who might this little maiden be? I've never seen this friend of yours before, Yuanzheng."

Yuanzheng stirred the noodles, lifting a strand to test if it was cooked. "Mother, that is Miss Qing. We only just met today. And it remains yet to be seen if we are going to be friends. She has to promise not to eat anyone first, or treat anyone like a servant."

Qingqing cautiously came out of the shadows. She realized that Granny Hong had only seen her in her snake form and couldn't possibly know who she was. Enraged, she glared at Yuanzheng. "You talk as if I don't have any manners. It's an honour to meet you, auntie." She made a graceful bow and flashed Granny Hong her most ingratiating smile. She would charm this old lady, just to show that stupid woodcutter that she could be sweet and winsome when she wanted.

Granny Hong startled her by taking her hand. The calluses on her wrinkled hands were rough as she patted Qingqing's hand affectionately. Truth be told, it was a long time since anyone spoke so politely and formally to her, let alone a pretty fresh-faced young girl. "Ah, such a sweet and gentle maiden. You're a kind soul, Miss Qing, I'm sure. It's not often our lowly kitchen is graced with such youth and beauty. Just call me Granny Hong, like everyone here does."

Qingqing was visibly flattered. She decided not to steal the hen under Granny Hong's arm after all. Anyway, it wasn't that fat, and she wasn't exactly sure how to go about roasting it.

Granny Hong fumbled in her basket and held out two smooth white eggs. "Here, son. Newly laid from the hen! Add some egg into the noodles for your guests. Come on. We may be poor, but what the gods gave us we ought to share."

Qingqing clapped her hands. "Ah, auntie! You're a kind one. I'm starving, too." She made a piteous face. Granny Hong clucked sympathetically. "Didn't you hear, son? The poor young lady is hungry. Hurry up with those noodles. As for Xiaohu here, he's always hungry, isn't he?"

Yuanzheng unhurriedly cracked the eggs into the soup and beat it with the chopsticks so it separated into a cloud of white wisps amid the leeks, like some fairytale landscape with snow-laden trees. "For someone who's starving, you have a lot to say. Xiaohu, the bowls."

He dished out the noodles and handed them each a pair of worn chopsticks. "I told you, making noodles takes time. This is called patience, Miss Qing. Without patience, you can't hope to enjoy the result. You need to enjoy the process as well."

Qingqing snatched the chopsticks from him. "You're as long-winded as a Taoist priest. Making a big deal over a bowl of noodles. I'm famished." she snapped, taking a bowl.

"Amitabha, Brother Yuanzheng is so wise." giggled Xiaohu, grabbing his own bowl of noodles.

Yuanzheng sighed as they both slurped their noodles noisily in a cloud of steam, chasing the shreds of egg around the bowls with their chopsticks.

"Soup's a bit bland," Qingqing mumbled, chewing rapidly, "but the noodles are good. You make good noodles, blockhead." She paused long enough to flash an unexpected grin at the woodcutter, then glanced around hurriedly to see if Granny Hong had heard her.

The little green snake spirit was petty and held grudges, but she was also easily distracted; she hadn't been really angry at the woodcutter to begin with, and now that she had been fed her black mood disappeared.

She put down her chopsticks with a satisfied sigh. Xiaohu goggled in shock--he had barely finished half of his bowl, though he had been wolfing his noodles with a desperate lack of manners. "Did she even chew?" he demanded through a mouthful of noodles, jabbing his chopsticks in Qingqing's direction.

Qingqing pushed her empty bowl aside carelessly. "Learn from your betters, child," she said serenely. "I can down double that amount before you've finished your portion."

Yuanzheng fished his noodles calmly out of the soup. "What's the hurry? No one's competing with you."

She shrugged. "No one could. But this little bean sprout here needed some correcting."

He shot her an amused glance. "So, are you still going to eat him?"

Qingqing raised an eyebrow and studied Xiaohu meditatively. "No," she said at last. "I wouldn't unless I was really starving. Hardly any flesh on his bones. You'll have to feed him well for me first, woodcutter. Another few bowls of noodles and he might be worth looking at then."

Xiaohu choked on his noodles and slowed down dramatically.

Yuanzheng laughed outright. "Miss Qing. You really can't go around talking like that. Someone might report you to the official."

Qingqing chewed delicately on a finger, looking meaningfully at Xiaohu. "Oh, is that so? Never mind. Just so you know."

She smiled. "Next time, woodcutter, a bit of pork would make your noodles amazing. Better than the one sold in the marketplace by that widow with the mole. Some pork belly slices, or pork balls, or maybe just a handful of ground meat--"

"Pork?" spluttered Xiaohu scornfully. "How easy do you think it is to get pork? We barely manage to see roast chicken on festive occasions. What kind of fine family are you from, eating delicacies every day like it's nothing?" He looked enviously at her. "Might as well have let me have your noodles. I can't even remember the last time I had pork."

Qingqing looked thoughtful. She had never considered this before, and her own craving for roast chicken gave an extra pathos to Xiaohu's point of view. For the first time, she felt a sudden desire to share.

Reaching into her tunic, she hunted for the silver coin. It took a while to find it, causing Yuanzheng to look aside in some embarrassment and Xiaohu to mutter, "What's wrong with her? Did she get a rash or something?" to himself over his noodles.

With a grand gesture, Qingqing held out a silver coin in her palm. "There! That's enough for roast chicken for us all. Next time I come, you'll take me to the roast chicken stall before it closes and I'll treat the two of you to roast chicken." she said proudly.

"And your mother," she added as after thought. "Because she said I was pretty." She simpered.

Xiaohu's eyes were huge. "A whole silver coin!"

Qingqing nodded, pleased. "You see? I, Xiaoqing, don't owe debts to anyone. You made noodles for me, so I'll treat you to roast chicken the next time." She danced over to where Yuanzheng sat, tossing the coin up and down on her palm like a plaything.

"As for you--" She eyed Xiaohu closely.

"Sister Qing!" Holding his bowl of noodles in both hands, Xiaohu bowed hastily to her with a broad smile, doing his best to look appealing.

Satisfied, Qingqing put the coin away. "Ah, that's more like it. No more rude talk from you or you won't even get the chicken's backside."