Transmigrated into an Ancient ABO Fantasy World: A Culinary Comeback - Chapter 4

The continuous sound of rain outside the window didn’t wake Wang Xiaojin, nor did the rooster crow, it had probably taken shelter from the rain. Instead, she was roused by the sound of water dripping onto her. Opening her eyes, she saw a small dark patch on the roof, from which droplets fell one by one, soaking and dirtying her clean bedding.

Annoyed, she got up, found a basin to catch the water, and checked the rest of the house. She thought to herself that the thatched cottage was too dilapidated and needed repairs otherwise, the winter cold would be unbearable for a modern person like her. Repairs meant another expense, and there were already too many things in this household that required money. To make matters worse, the rain today meant she’d lose a day’s earnings.

Sighing wouldn’t help. Wang Xiaojin figured the rain wasn’t all bad, it was good for the crops, a blessing from the heavens. Besides, Uncle Zhang’s family would likely all be home today, so she could invite them over for a meal to properly thank them.

With that thought, she threw on a short coat, grabbed an umbrella, and headed next door. The moment she stepped inside, Zhang Dalang’s two daughters came bouncing over, giggling and clinging to her legs. The little ones knew she always brought treats when she visited. Smiling, Wang Xiaojin fished a few small pastries from her pocket and handed them to the girls. She then informed Zhang Dalang and Uncle Zhang that she wanted to invite them over for lunch and a few cups of warm wine.

Zhang Dalang and Uncle Zhang, both simple and honest farmers, politely declined at first, but after some back-and-forth, they finally agreed. When it was time to leave, the two little ones clung to her and wouldn’t let go. It took some coaxing before she could finally extricate herself.

Around ten o’clock, Wang Xiaojin began preparing the ingredients and started cooking. For guests, noodles wouldn’t do, so she steamed rice in the large pot first.

There was still some meat left from yesterday, kept cool in the well water originally meant for dinner, but she decided to use it for the meal. She prepared several hearty dishes:

Salted pork belly, beef stewed with tomatoes, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, fried pork ribs, fried chicken cutlets, steamed egg custard, fish-flavored eggplant, mapo tofu, a large platter of cold dishes, and a seaweed meatball soup, all dishes suitable for young and old alike.

These dishes, especially the Sichuan-style ones, weren’t novel to people of this era they had already spread widely among the common folk. The county town even had a few Sichuan restaurants. The Zhang family was relatively well-off and had likely tried them before. The difference was that Wang Xiaojin had a few more “years” of experience than the locals, giving her better control over seasoning and flavors.

While she was cooking, the Zhang family next door grew restless. Zhang Dalang, catching whiffs of the fragrant aromas drifting over, urged his parents, “Father, Mother, it’s just drizzling outside, let’s hurry over. Xiaojin has already made several dishes.”

His wife, Li Shi, shot him a glare. “Glutton!” she scoffed in her loud, coarse voice. “I heard from the Ma family that this Wang Xiaojin sells some kind of board noodles in town. Pah! She used to be mute, never greeting anyone probably turned stupid from all that studying. Now she’s still the same lifeless look, yet suddenly everyone’s fawning over her. Acting all high and mighty disgusting!”

Her words were unduly harsh. Before Zhang Dalang could react, Uncle Zhang stormed out of the room and barked, “Enough! Is this how you teach the children?”

Then, softening his tone, he added, “Xiaojin is making something of herself. She’ll pay back our debt sooner or later. And here you are, looking down on her for earning money!”

Scolded by her father-in-law, Li Shi finally shut her mouth, though begrudgingly.

The family made their way to Wang Xiaojin’s house. She had just finished setting the dishes on the table in the main room and warming the wine. The six of them host and guests gathered around the table, while the two little ones ran around playing on the floor. Wang Xiaojin first handed them each a piece of fried chicken cutlet to nibble on.

Zhang Bo exchanged pleasantries with her mother, advising her that since she liked children so much, she should quickly find a Kunze to marry and start a family. Wang Xiaojin smiled without responding. Life was so tight, with a house leaking and possessions in disarray, how could she dare to bring misfortune upon another family’s daughter? If she couldn’t make it herself, would she tarnish others by calling them gold-diggers?

That said, today’s meal seemed to suit everyone’s taste. Without prior agreement, they all started mixing their rice. The fish-flavored eggplant was rich and tender, its savory juices soaking into the rice, making it incredibly delicious when paired together. The mapo tofu melted in the mouth, spicy and fragrant, and when eaten with the salty braised pork belly, it was divine. Occasionally, they’d grab a few crispy fried chicken cutlets, savoring them in silence. Mrs. Li exclaimed how delicious it was and urged everyone to grab more before it was gone.

Wang Xiaojin had originally warmed some wine, planning to engage in some drinking-table culture, but no one paid her any attention they were all too busy eating. Only Zhang Bo showed some restraint, exchanging a few words with her.

Just as well she didn’t like drinking anyway. She cleared the wine away and noticed the two little girls constantly asking for more chicken cutlets. She mercilessly refused them and served them steamed egg custard instead. Kids shouldn’t eat too much fried chicken.

In the end, both host and guests enjoyed themselves thoroughly. Before leaving, Zhang Bo, thinking of the way his family had devoured the meal, blushed and praised Wang Xiaojin: “This is Sichuan cuisine too, but I’ve never had anything this delicious.” Wang Xiaojin smiled and replied that they were all family and should feel free to ask for more whenever they wanted.

Not long after Zhang Bo left, another group of uninvited guests arrived seemingly distant relatives, a mix of Qian Yuan and Kunze, men and women, whom they didn’t interact with often. Their expressions carried a hint of hostility as their scrutinizing eyes swept over Wang Xiaojin and her home.

One of the relatives warmly linked arms with her mother and led her inside, sitting in the main hall and exchanging pleasantries about this and that. As the conversation went on, Wang Xiaojin began to sense something was off.

One boasted about how their son had been promoted and favored by the shopkeeper, another bragged about their daughter receiving a government salary, while yet another sneered, “What’s the use of studying? Aim too high, and you still can’t compare to those rough-and-tumble kids.” Another chimed in, “A child prodigy may not grow up to be remarkable.”

Their words, layered with hidden barbs, were all aimed at Wang Xiaojin, who sat quietly to the side.

Watching their expressions, Wang Xiaojin wondered: If the original owner of this body were sitting here, what would she think? How would she react? If she hadn’t earned money selling noodles, would her mother protect her, or would she stand by and let these people mock and provoke her?

But alas, she was no longer the original Wang Xiaojin. She cut them off and asked bluntly, “Did you come here to laugh at me?”

The relatives were taken aback. Clearly, her words had no bite, and they quickly retorted with their usual tactics: “How could that be? We’re here for your own good. You should try doing something else.”

“For my own good? But I’m doing just fine, I earn hundreds of wen a day. Ask my mom if you don’t believe me.”

Her mother nodded beside her. “The girl earns hundreds of wen a day selling food in the county town.”

“Oh, selling food? What’s so impressive about being a cook? It’s nowhere near as respectable as being a scholar.”

“Exactly, a few hundred wen isn’t much. After all that studying, you end up doing this.”

Their expressions soured. Wang Xiaojin smirked without warmth. “Weren’t you here for my own good? Why do you seem so unhappy now that I’m doing well?”

For a moment, there was complete silence. Finally, a chubby man broke the stillness, leaning in close to Wang Xiaojin. “Xiaojin, you’ve really made something of yourself, earning so much. Our family will be counting on you from now on. After all, we’re family.”

Wang Xiaojin glanced at the hand he had placed on her shoulder and impatiently brushed it off. “Oh, so ‘family’ means you rely on Wang Xiaojin when she’s successful, but when she’s down, you all disappear and laugh at her, is that it?”

“You don’t even feel any envy. Put nicely, you’re pragmatic; put bluntly, you’re just a fence-sitter who can’t be relied on by anyone in the end!”

“Xiaojin!” Her mother stopped her before she could say anything harsher, smiling at the crowd. “She’s just a child and doesn’t know any better. Don’t take it to heart. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“No, no, we’ve already eaten. It’s getting late, so we’ll take our leave.” The group laughed awkwardly and slunk away. As soon as they stepped out the door, Wang Xiaojin knew they would likely tarnish her reputation, but she didn’t care.

She had said those words partly to vent the original host’s grievances and soothe her spirit, and partly because she genuinely couldn’t stand such people.

In recent days, villagers had been buzzing around her like mosquitoes, but she hadn’t reacted at all those people were openly malicious, without any pretense. But today’s relatives, with their hidden daggers and feigned nobility, were the epitome of hypocrisy. Overt malice could be avoided, but covert malice was often harder to detect and inflicted psychological damage many times worse. Though Wang Xiaojin was usually composed and steady, she had no patience for such underhanded people.

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