Chapter Thirty-Five: Hotpot Must Be Eaten Quickly

Chen Xin jotted down the idea in her notebook, intending to cook a delicious meal for Bai Mengqing as a treat. Nothing is more enjoyable in winter than a hotpot. Bai Mengqing was from a neighboring province and had a high tolerance for spicy food, but Chen Xin felt that having hotpot with just the two of them wasn’t lively enough. So she sent Bai Mengqing off to the university to invite the rest of their close friends to join them.

Since there were still a few days before registration, less than half of their classmates had arrived so far. Among their circle, three wouldn’t be at school until the eighteenth or nineteenth. When Bai Mengqing returned, she brought not only their usual three or four friends but also two unfamiliar girls.

Both were girlfriends of the other two male classmates in their group. These days, relationships were still fairly innocent—group dinners and barbecues were commonplace. Bai Mengqing hesitated about bringing them along but, thinking that those two male classmates were reliable, she reasoned their girlfriends wouldn’t be much different. She called Chen Xin and came straight over.

“Is your classmate a local? Did she buy this house herself?” one of the girls asked, her curiosity insatiable, bombarding her boyfriend with questions.

At first, her boyfriend answered a few, but when he realized she was the only one incessantly asking about Chen Xin, her family, and even Zhang Zhang’s background—the implication being she suspected Zhang Zhang was Chen Xin’s child—he grew impatient.

“Why are you so talkative? Can’t you even keep quiet while eating?” the male classmate pushed his glasses up, turning to his new girlfriend with a serious expression. “Chen Xin and I are just classmates. How would I know about her family, and why would I need to? Zhang Zhang is Chen Xin’s sister’s child; everyone knows that. The way you’re asking, it sounds a bit off to me.”

Bai Mengqing was taken aback. She glanced at the male classmate, then at Chen Xin and the other two girls busy in the kitchen, frowning slightly.

“Maotzu, that’s enough. Don’t make trouble,” Bai Mengqing scolded Mao Xiaohong with a glare, then turned to smile at the girl. But before she could speak, the girl’s face flushed red. She slammed her glass down, shot to her feet, and stormed out.

“What’s wrong with you?” Mao Xiaohong didn’t get up, just turned to ask.

“We’re done, you jerk!” the girl shrieked, her voice sharp. “You flirt with others while dating me—do you think I’m blind? Who would even look at you if your family wasn’t well-off, with that pockmarked face of yours!” With that, she slammed the door and left. Mao Xiaohong lowered his head, shrouded in gloom.

“What happened?” Chen Xin emerged from the kitchen with a bunch of vegetables, puzzled by the scene in the courtyard. “Maotzu, your girlfriend’s upset. Aren’t you going to comfort her?”

“No need. As she said, she only cared about my family’s background and looked down on me. Why should I try to appease her?” Mao Xiaohong cracked open a can of beer, downed it in one gulp, and reached for another, but Bai Mengqing grabbed his hand.

“That’s enough, Maotzu.” Bai Mengqing signaled the others to start bringing out the dishes. “We haven’t even started eating yet, and if you finish all the beer now, what will we drink later? None of us wants to go out in this cold to buy more.”

The male classmate who roomed with Mao Xiaohong snapped out of it, helping to set up the electric hotpot and pushing two tables together. Everyone acted as though they didn’t care about the girl’s outburst, which eased Mao Xiaohong’s mood a bit, though he remained much quieter than usual.

“There are plenty of flowers in the world. Since she only cared about your family, what’s there to miss? Best to let her go early,” someone consoled. Chen Xin, not one for many words, nodded her agreement. After a few more words of comfort, the others let the matter drop. The other couple grew even more reserved, scarcely daring to speak.

After a long while, Mao Xiaohong managed to adjust, laughing at himself. “She’s not wrong, you know. Look at my face—it’s like I’ve been disfigured. What girl would want to be with me?”

“That’s not true. You actually look quite good—strong features, big eyes, high nose bridge, a handsome guy. No need to put yourself down. As for your acne, if it bothers you that much, why not see a doctor? Maybe there’s a treatment.”

“I’ve been treating this acne for years—since middle school. Nearly a decade now, and instead of getting better, it’s only gotten worse. New scars over old ones, not a patch of good skin left.”

“Maybe you haven’t found the right remedy,” the other girl finally spoke up, scrutinizing Mao Xiaohong carefully. “You might not get perfect skin again, but it’s possible to stop it from worsening. If you’re willing, you can come to my family’s clinic and let my grandfather take a look. He’s an old traditional doctor, and the medical skills have been passed down in our family.”

Few young people believe in traditional medicine these days, often thinking everything Western is superior—even preferring Western medicine. Mao Xiaohong hesitated, then made up his mind and nodded. “Could you give me the address? I’ll come by tomorrow.”

The girl wrote down the clinic’s address, glanced at Mao Xiaohong’s bowl, and smiled. “If you really want to improve, you should start practicing self-control tonight—beginning with cutting out spicy food.”

Her boyfriend immediately laughed, supporting her. “Exactly, Maotzu, don’t eat any more. Leave more for the rest of us!”

“Get out of here. Since this is my last hotpot for a while, no way am I not eating!” Mao Xiaohong finally smiled, burying his hurt deep inside.

The group of young people feasted on a rich broth made from pork bones and a fiery homemade hotpot base, eating until their bellies rounded, sprawled back in their chairs, defeated by the delicious food.

Aside from the classic homemade hotpot, Chen Xin had prepared some snacks to replace staple foods. She made egg-fried glutinous rice cakes, steaming homemade cakes until the grains were soft but still intact, slicing them half a centimeter thick, coating them in egg and frying them until golden. After draining the oil, she melted a chunk of brown sugar in a bowl over steam, then drizzled it over the hot rice cakes—a dessert so sweet, it warmed the heart.

She also kneaded cornmeal with water, salt, and sugar for ten minutes, letting it soak until soft and sticky. She shaped the dough into flat triangles, wrapped them in leaves, and steamed them for half an hour until the corn cakes were ready. The hint of salt enhanced the natural sweetness, and with extra sugar, the cakes were soft, fragrant, and carried the fresh scent of corn leaves.

One of the classmates had brought buckwheat noodles from home. For lunch, Chen Xin made beef stewed with bamboo shoots, and in the clear hotpot broth, she cooked the buckwheat noodles. After boiling for a minute and a half, she drained them, ladled beef soup over them, and sprinkled on a bit of chicken essence and coriander. The spicy, aromatic beef broth mingled with the smooth buckwheat noodles, and the boys devoured three bowls each without pause!