Ordinary World: Starting with a divorce from Tian Runye

"Big sister, can you hurry up?"

Li Xiangqian watched as the two heads chattered away, wondering whose gossip they were talking about.

"Okay, okay!"

"Xiangqian, everything you need is here."

Sister Zhang spread a bunch of large and small bags on the counter.

Li Xiangqian paid the money, put the items into a blue checkered cloth bag, and turned to leave.

As soon as Li Xiangqian stepped out of the supply and marketing cooperative, he saw a furtive head.

The man was pale and thin, wearing an old military green jacket that he had somehow gotten his hands on. His hair was a mess, and he was carrying a bag of brightly colored plastic sandals. He was looking furtively at the entrance of the supply and marketing cooperative.

Upon seeing Li Xiangqian, the man was taken aback at first, then grinned, looked around, and then pulled out a pair of sandals, holding them up in his hand.

"Hey buddy, these are genuine southern goods, made in Guangdong, only 50 cents a pair. Want to get a pair for your kid?"

Li Xiangqian looked down at the sandals. They were made of rough plastic, with soles so thin they were translucent, and the buckles were crooked.

Made in Guangdong? Are you kidding me? This stuff wouldn't even sell by weight at a roadside stall in Guangzhou.

"Where did you get all this stuff?"

Li Xiangqian pretended to pick up a sandal and examine it closely.

"Huangyuan, a batch of goods from the south just arrived in Huangyuan. Brother, these sandals are so fashionable, all sorts of colorful ones, all the city kids are wearing them now."

"Are you from Huangyuan?"

Li Xiangqian asked, since Huangyuan has sandals made in Guangdong, maybe it also has the oyster sauce and sausages he's been longing for.

When Li Xiangqian asked about his background, the man figured that Li must be interested in his sandals, but he was worried because he didn't know where he was from.

"Brother, don't worry, I'm from Yuanxi County, we're all from the same village, would I lie to you?"

The man continued speaking.

"If you have any problems with shoes in Shigejie Commune or Guanzi Village, you can come to Guanzi Village to find me."

Li Xiangqian was stunned after hearing this and stared directly at the person in front of him.

Jar Village? Skinny and pale, shifty-eyed, a shady business, with multiple buffs stacked together.

"Wang Manyin?"

Li Xiangqian blurted it out.

Upon hearing this, the man was initially alert, then grinned, "Yes, yes, Wang Manyin, brother, you know me?"

Sun Lanhua's husband, the number one ghost in Shigejie, would have wasted his time reading that book if he didn't recognize it.

"Oh, I know you. You must have heard of me."

"Runye's husband, Li Xiangqian!"

Li Xiangqian pointed to himself, as if introducing someone else.

"Oh my, Runye's men, they're really like family. Uncle Futang's kids and my father-in-law's kids are as close as family."

Wang Manyin slapped his thigh hard, a feeling of meeting an old friend in a foreign land welling up inside him.

In the original novel, Wang Manyin is a destabilizing factor, a middleman who resells fake rat poison, fake electronic watches, and anything else that can be resold. He is always on the right path to wealth but doing the wrong things.

By Li Xiangqian's previous life's standards, Wang Manyin was the kind of vendor who dealt in counterfeit phone cases in urban villages. He didn't make much money, but he was always energetic and always on the go.

"Brother Manyin, do you have any seasonings from the south in Huangyuan? Like oyster sauce!"

Li Xiangqian addressed Wang Manyin politely. Although Wang Manyin wasn't a positive character in the original work, he had an advantage that no one else had: he traveled everywhere, was well-informed, and seemed to be able to get his hands on all sorts of dubious things.

Although I work for the transportation department and am on the road all year round, I have a government job and my routes are fixed. The channels are limited and haven't been opened up yet. Getting any goods from the south is harder than eating shit.

"Oyster sauce?" Wang Manyin frowned. "What's that?"

"It's... a kind of seasoning. It's dark in color and has a fresh flavor. Adding a little when stir-frying makes it especially fragrant."

"Never seen it before," Wang Manyin honestly shook his head, but then his eyes lit up. "However, I know a few long-distance traders who bring in goods from the south. They have all sorts of strange and unusual things. If you're looking for any special seasonings, I can ask around for you."

Li Xiangqian's heart skipped a beat.

In the isolated town of Yuanxi County, getting ingredients from Guangdong was practically a pipe dream. Seeing that Wang Manyin seemed to have a way, Li Xiangqian was naturally overjoyed.

"Okay, keep an eye out for me. I don't need much. I want the light-colored, flavorful soy sauce, not the dark and salty kind we have here. If you can get some dried shiitake mushrooms and dried shrimp from the south, that would be even better."

Wang Manyin looked bewildered: "There's also light-colored soy sauce?"

"Yes. Soy sauce in the south is different from the soy sauce here."

How do you know all this?

Li Xiangqian smiled and said, "I heard it from an experienced driver in the transportation department."

Wang Manyin was skeptical, but his instincts as a con man told him that there was a business opportunity. If such a rare seasoning really existed, he might be able to sell it for a good price in Yuanxi County.

"Sure! Leave it to me!" Wang Manyin patted his chest. "As long as it's available in the south, I, Wang Manyin, can get it for you."

Li Xiangqian thanked him and was about to leave when he suddenly turned back and asked, "By the way, Brother Manyin, where can I buy live chickens around here?"

We are still in the planned economy era. Live chickens, as agricultural products, are subject to state-planned procurement and are rarely circulated in the market. Urban residents who want to buy chickens can usually only buy slaughtered, dressed chickens.

Wang Manyin was stunned.

"Live chickens?"

"Hmm, I'd like to make chicken soup."

In the rural and urban areas of Yuanxi County, chickens are used for laying eggs. The act of killing a chicken to make soup only happens on two occasions throughout the year: the Lunar New Year, and when a woman becomes pregnant.

In June, with more than half a year until the Lunar New Year, it's highly likely that Runye is pregnant.

"Hey, don't worry, go back and tell Runye that we'll definitely be able to get a chicken by tomorrow."

Wang Manyin patted his chest confidently, looking completely at ease.

Just as Li Xiangqian was about to thank him, he saw Wang Manyin run away in a flash.

"Huh? Why did he make me talk to Runye?"

Li Xiangqian watched Wang Manyin's retreating figure, stroked his chin, and didn't dwell on the matter any further.

He glanced down at the contents of the cloth bag: eggs, red dates, goji berries, tofu skin, ginger, and Sichuan peppercorns.

Since we haven't gotten the chicken yet, we can only try another dish first.

Fake preserved egg and lean pork congee.

If you don't have preserved eggs, use hard-boiled eggs instead.

Since there was no lean meat, I took the piece of pork that Liu Zhiying had sent last time, scraped off the thin layer of connective tissue under the fat, cut it into thin strips, and marinated it with salt.

Millet is used, but Cantonese porridge should be made with japonica rice. Millet porridge will not have the same texture, but there is no other choice.

Upon returning home, Li Xiangqian went straight to the kitchen.

He lit a fire in the stove, boiled water in the iron pot, and added millet. He brought it to a boil over high heat, then turned it down to a simmer, stirring constantly. This was a technique he had learned in a porridge shop by the Pearl River in his previous life; frequent stirring ensured a smooth porridge base.

Peel the hard-boiled eggs, mash the yolks and add them to the porridge base, letting them slowly dissolve. Dice the egg whites and add them last. Add the marinated shredded meat to the pot when the porridge is almost ready, and cook for a couple of minutes.

Finally, sprinkle with shredded ginger and chopped green onions. Since I didn't have blended oil or white pepper powder, I just used rapeseed oil.

Li Xiangqian ladled out a bowl, squatted down by the stove, and took a sip.

If the highest score is for authentic preserved egg and lean pork congee from the Pearl River, this bowl would probably get a 30. The millet was too coarse, the boiled egg wasn't salty enough, and there was pitifully little shredded pork.

But for a Guangdong soul on the Loess Plateau, on the verge of starvation, those thirty minutes were a life-saving spring.

Li Xiangqian squatted by the stove, slurping down three bowls of wine, his eyes slightly red.