lovenovelstory Chapter 1: Honey, the rice in your hands is glowing!
Chapter 1: Honey, the rice in your hands is glowing!
Early summer of the tenth year of Zhenguan.
The sun in Chang'an was scorching, making the glazed tiles on the red walls of the imperial city dazzling.
In the most secluded corner of the imperial kitchen's backyard, a pile of firewood half a person's height lay. Su Mu sat on a log, holding a chipped wood-chopping knife, listlessly shaving wood chips.
He has been here for three days.
In his past life, he was a top-notch chef who won numerous awards at state banquets across the planet Blue Star. Now, however, he is the lowest-ranking woodcutter in the Tang Dynasty palace.
This drop is greater than jumping from the Himalayas into the Mariana Trench.
[Ding! The Food God System has issued a beginner's task: During your shift, use the available ingredients to prepare a dish and completely burn it onto a disc. Reward: God-level knife skills.]
The system's cold, robotic voice rang out in my mind again; this was the third time it had played.
Su Mu stuck the wood-chopping knife into the wooden stump.
It's done!
My mouth has been so bland for the past three days.
During the Tang Dynasty, cooking methods mainly involved steaming, boiling, or roasting meat until it was half-cooked and then sprinkled with coarse salt.
The smell wafting from the imperial kitchen was a mix of muttony and the unfermented smell of simmering sauce; it made you want to vomit up your dinner from three days ago.
He's a cook; his tongue is precious, he can't bear this suffering.
Looking around, it's currently the peak time for lunch preparation.
Inside the main hall of the imperial kitchen, the imperial chefs were busy as spinning tops, shouting and yelling, their pots and pans clattering loudly, and no one paid any attention to the dilapidated backyard.
Su Mu got up and went into the secluded kitchen that was usually used to burn wastewater.
The stove here is half collapsed, but luckily the pot is still usable.
He rummaged through the jar in the corner and, luckily, found a bowl of leftover white rice from last night.
The rice is good rice, tribute rice, and even though it's completely cold, the grains are still distinct.
He then pulled out a small oil paper package from his pocket, inside which was a piece of greasy pork fat and a few scallions he had just taken from the vegetable basket.
In those days, pork was cheap meat, only the poor ate it, and it was rarely seen in the imperial kitchen. But this piece of lard was specially brought back by the eunuch who was in charge of purchasing, which cost him his last bit of money.
"Fire."
Su Mu skillfully lit the dry branches and stuffed them into the stove.
Flames licked the bottom of the pot, and the black iron pot soon began to smoke.
Cut the pork fat into small cubes about the size of a fingernail and slide them into a hot pan.
"Sizzle—!"
A sharp cracking sound rang out, particularly jarring in the quiet, secluded kitchen.
Immediately afterwards, that domineering, overbearing, and unreasonable aroma of lard exploded out!
This is the most primal collision between oil and high temperature.
In a Tang Dynasty era where only steaming, boiling, and stewing were common practices, the aroma of this stir-fried oil was simply a game-changer.
Su Mu took a deep breath, his nasal cavity filled with long-lost joy.
The cracklings slowly turn yellow and shrink, tumbling and jumping in the boiling clear oil. Scoop them out, sprinkle with a little fine salt—this stuff was a divine ingredient for mixing with rice in my past life, but here it's a delicious snack.
Leave some oil in the pan, then beat the eggs.
Crack three eggs into the pan, whisk them rapidly with chopsticks, and the egg mixture will puff up as it enters the pan, releasing a golden, caramelized aroma that instantly fills the small space.
The rice was poured in, and the spatula flew as it was shoveled in.
Su Mu's wrists trembled at an extremely fast frequency. Although his body and memories had not recovered to the top level of his previous life, his skill in flipping the wok was ingrained in his bones.
Each grain of cold rice is coated in hot oil and egg, dancing a tap dance in the iron pot.
The rice grains must be fried until they jump around in the pan; that's a sign that the moisture has been forced out and the oil has thoroughly soaked in.
Finally, sprinkle in a handful of bright green chopped scallions.
Green scallions, yellow eggs, white rice, all glistening with oil!
A pungent aroma of scallion oil mixed with the scent of eggs desperately seeped out through the cracks in the dilapidated window frame.
......
The Imperial Garden, beside the artificial hill.
A tiny figure is squatting on the ground drawing circles.
Princess Jinyang, Li Mingda, whose nickname was Sizi.
At this moment, she was frowning, her delicate little face contorted in pain, her chubby little hands covering her belly.
"Gurgle—!"
My stomach is making a nasty noise.
"I don't want to sign a contract..."
The little girl pouted and mumbled in a childish voice.
The breakfast delivered by the Imperial Kitchen was mutton soup again, and the strong, gamey smell made her frown. Her father said it was good for her and good for her health, but she just couldn't swallow it; she vomited after just one bite.
She had just sent her personal maid away to get some candied fruit, and she took the opportunity to slip away.
Hungry duck!
I'm so hungry!
Little Sizi stood up, leaning on the artificial hill, feeling a little dizzy.
Suddenly, her little nose twitched twice.
What does it taste like?
It wasn't that stinky mutton smell, nor that bitter medicine smell.
It has a... mouthwatering aroma!
Little Sizi's eyes lit up, a hint of longing flashing in her large, dark, grape-like eyes. Following the direction the wind was blowing, she stumbled and ran forward on her short legs.
Pass through the moon gate and walk around a row of willow trees.
The fragrance grew stronger and stronger, so strong it seemed to be hooked, drawing her little soul forward.
Ahead was a dilapidated courtyard, the gate ajar.
That's the back door of the imperial kitchen; people usually use this door to dump swill.
But right now, an intoxicating aroma is wafting out from the cracks in that black, mottled wooden door.
Little Si swallowed hard, grabbed the door crack with his little hands, and struggled to squeeze his head inside.
The hairpins and ornaments on her head jingled as they were squeezed against the door frame, but she didn't care. With her chubby body wiggling like a clumsy little penguin, she managed to squeeze through the crack in the door.
......
Inside the kitchen.
Su Mu looked at the golden fried rice in the pot and nodded in satisfaction.
This is the legendary "Golden Egg Fried Rice"!
The rice grains are distinct, the egg flowers are evenly distributed, and each grain of rice is coated with egg. Under the sunlight streaming through the window, it truly looks like golden sand.
"The mission requires us to eat it all, right? That's easy."
Su Mu picked up his bowl and chopsticks, ready to feast.
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the doorway.
He turned around alertly.
Then I saw a pink and tender little dumpling struggling to squeeze through the crack in the door, its two little tufts of hair all askew.
Eyes facing each other.
Su Mu: "Holy crap, we've been spotted!"
He instinctively shielded the bowl to his chest.
This is a mission item; anyone who tries to steal it will be in big trouble.
Xiao Sizi straightened up, patted the dust off her skirt, but her eyes were fixed on the bowl in Su Mu's arms.
The bowl was still steaming.
The golden light flashed.
"Brother..."
Little Sizi took two steps forward, a glistening drop of drool hanging from the corner of her mouth, her words slurred: "Ni... Ni's food is glowing..."