Tang Dynasty: Slacking off in the Imperial Kitchen, exposed by Si Zi

Chapter 139 Strawberry Daifuku, so sweet and delicious!

The door was blocked by heavy snow.

Winter in Chang'an is notoriously unpredictable; the northwest wind, carrying snowflakes, relentlessly whitens the last vestiges of color in the world.

The old locust tree in the backyard of the imperial kitchen was bare, with icicles hanging from its branches, looking cold.

The only thing that stood out was the greenhouse in the corner of the imperial kitchen, which Su Mu had specially modified.

The house is heated by an underground heating system, and it even has a luxurious glazed tile roof, which can gather even the smallest bit of sunlight inside.

Outside, water freezes instantly, but inside it's warm as spring, with even a damp, earthy smell in the air.

Su Mu squatted by the edge of the field, a bamboo basket slung over his shoulder.

Right before his eyes was a lush green vine. And among the serrated green leaves hung bright red, juicy fruits.

strawberry!

These are seeds I exchanged with the system in the summer. They're said to be an improved variety, cold-resistant, and with a high fruit-bearing rate.

Su Mu had just picked one at random, never expecting it to grow so wildly on Tang Dynasty soil.

It has matured in just six months!

To prevent these rare creatures from freezing to death, Su Mu promptly built layers of heated enclosures for them.

That red wasn't the gaudy red of rouge, but rather a crystalline, watery sheen. Tiny sesame-like dots on the surface were slightly sunken, and it exuded a unique, fruity, slightly acidic aroma with a milky fragrance.

"That's about it."

Su Mu reached out and snapped off a stalk.

With a slight pressure from the fingertips, the abundant juice seeped out, staining the nail plate red.

In the dead of winter, eating only cabbage and radishes all day long, my mouth is already so bland it's practically tasteless.

Having filled a basket, Su Mu got up and went back into the house.

The fire on the stove inside the house never went out.

Su Mu poured the basket of strawberries into a wooden basin and rinsed them with cold water. The red berries tumbled in the water, looking quite beautiful.

Wash thoroughly, remove the stem, and drain.

Next, he prepared the red bean paste. He had cooked the paste a couple of days earlier, stir-fried it with lard and rock sugar, and it was dark red, shiny, and so smooth that you couldn't see any bean skins.

Su Mu scooped up a spoonful of red bean paste, flattened it in his palm, stuffed a bright red strawberry inside, and then slowly closed the opening. The dark red bean paste covered the bright red fruit flesh, leaving only the pointed tip peeking out.

The main event is the leather.

Glutinous rice flour is mixed with water and sugar, steamed until cooked, and then butter is added and kneaded in while it's still hot.

This job is tiring; it's hot to the touch and sticky.

Su Mu sprinkled a layer of cooked glutinous rice flour on the cutting board and pinched the soft, white dough into small pieces.

Roll out the dough and fill it with the filling.

The soft, white skin was stretched open to wrap the red bean paste and strawberry filling. The opening was pinched closed, and then the filling was rolled up twice in the palm of the hand.

A round, plump, white dumpling is made.

Through the translucent glutinous rice skin, you can vaguely see a blush of red peeking out from inside, like rouge spreading in the snow.

"Su Mu! Su Mu!"

A series of urgent knocks came from outside the courtyard gate, followed by Li Lizhi's loud and boisterous voice.

"Open the door! I'm freezing to death!"

Su Mu wiped the handle and went over to unlatch the door latch.

As soon as the door opened, the wind and snow swept in, carrying two figures inside.

Li Lizhi was wrapped in a thick white fox fur coat, her face red from the cold.

Fang Qingjun, who followed behind her, was more reserved. She wore a light blue cloak and carried a food box in her hand, but her exposed nose tip was also shiny from the cold.

"With such heavy snow, why aren't you warming yourself by the fire in the palace? Why are you suffering in my woodshed?"

Su Mu stepped aside to make way.

"Do you think I wanted to come?"

Li Lizhi stomped the snow off her feet as she crawled into the house, complaining, "It's all because of Qingjun. She insisted that she felt bad about eating your sugar painting last time, so she made some snacks to bring to you."

Besides, where's Sizi? I haven't seen that little girl for days.

"Sizi is sleeping in the inner room; she got tired from playing earlier."

Su Mu pointed to the tray on the stove, "Better late than never, it's freshly made, have a taste."

Li Lizhi and Fang Qingjun went over.

There were six white dumplings neatly stacked on the tray.

"What is this?"

Li Lizhi curiously poked it with her finger. "It's soft and fluffy, like glutinous rice balls? Why don't you boil them?"

"Dafu."

Su Mu casually made up a name, "Or you can call it Snow Mochi, whatever you want to call it. No need to cook it, just eat it."

Fang Qingjun took off her cloak, revealing a fitted jacket and skirt.

She looked at the white dumpling, hesitant. It looked so exquisite, so dazzlingly white, that she couldn't bear to eat it.

"Try it, the skin will harden if you leave it for too long." Su Mu picked one up and handed it to Fang Qingjun.

Fang Qingjun was somewhat flattered and hurriedly reached out to take it.

When my fingertips touched that soft, smooth surface, it was slightly cool, yet incredibly soft, like holding a cloud in my hand.

She carefully brought it to her lips, opened her small mouth, and gently bit off a corner.

The moment your teeth slice through the glutinous rice skin, an exquisite softness stretches between your lips and teeth. This is followed by the sweetness of the red bean paste, delicate and rich.

However, this is only the prelude.

As the teeth continued to penetrate deeper, they broke open the bright red fruit inside.

puff!

The abundant juices exploded in my mouth!

acid!

It was an extremely refreshing fruity acidity, carrying the unique chill of winter.

sweet!

The sweetness of the red bean paste and glutinous rice skin quickly followed, neutralizing the sourness.

The sour and sweet flavors intertwine and linger on the tongue, the juice blends with the smoothness of red bean paste and the softness of glutinous rice, instantly stimulating the taste buds.

Fang Qingjun's eyes widened suddenly.

She had never eaten anything like this before.

Unlike the cloying sweetness of imperial pastries, this had a fresh, vibrant quality. The sweet and sour taste slid down her throat, making her heart skip a beat for no apparent reason.

This feeling —

It has the delightful surprise of first sight, the lingering sweetness, and a touch of heart-wrenching tartness.

It's just like the feeling described in storybooks when you first meet your sweetheart!

Fang Qingjun subconsciously raised her head, and her gaze met Su Mu's.

Su Mu was leaning against the stove, wiping his hands with a rag, looking lazy, his bright black eyes staring at her.

boom!

Fang Qingjun felt a surge of heat rush to her head, her cheeks instantly became burning hot, and even her ears felt hot.

She lowered her head in a panic, her heart pounding as if it would jump out of her throat. This—was this something he did on purpose?

For—for me?

Is this name Dafu? Or Xuemeiniang?

Regardless of which one, the sentiment behind it is...

"Cough cough cough!"

Perhaps because she ate too quickly, or perhaps because her mind was too chaotic, Fang Qingjun choked on the glutinous rice skin and couldn't help but cough.

That enchanting atmosphere was instantly shattered.

Su Mu frowned, turned around, poured a glass of water, and strode over to hand it to her.

Eat slowly.

Su Mu's voice was quite loud, and his tone was full of disdain.

"This glutinous rice skin is the stickiest thing. Every year, the number of old men and women who choke to death from eating this stuff could stretch from Zhuque Gate to Mingde Gate."

"If you, with your delicate skin, were to choke to death in my woodshed, wouldn't the steward smash my pot?"

Fang Qingjun's hand, which had just taken the water glass, froze in mid-air.

Her girlish heart, which had just begun to blossom with pink bubbles, was completely chilled by this bucket of cold water.

Choking—choking to death?

What feelings, what first love, what bittersweetness—

All gone!

How come this person has a mouth?!