Chapter 2
Years behind a food stall had taught me that fine ingredients and sound technique were equally important.
For good wontons, I chopped fresh hind leg pork—two parts fat to eight parts lean—into a delicate mince. Then I added seasoned water in several portions, stirring clockwise until the meat absorbed it all and became glossy, sticky, and fragrant. Crushed ice in the water was the secret to keeping it springy.
My specialties were pork with shepherd’s purse and bamboo shoots, and pork with shiitake and water chestnut. The vegetarian filling combined fennel, egg, wood ear, and other fresh ingredients. My eggs came from free-range hens and had deep orange yolks.
The simplest filling was shrimp mixed with egg white and minced carrot. I fried the yolks, sliced them into golden threads, and tossed them in just before cooking.
By the time the bowls of filling were ready, the disciples were drooling.
Tang Six looked from shepherd’s purse to shrimp in torment.
“The greens look so tender, but the shrimp is translucent and delicate. How am I supposed to choose?”
“Try shiitake and water chestnut.”
“The fennel with wood ear looks better.”
“Before I entered the sect, my little sister and I gathered wild fennel for Mother to make dumplings. I can never taste those again. Shopkeeper, two bowls of fennel wontons!”
“I want this one—and that one!”
For the hopelessly indecisive, I put several of each flavor into one bowl and called it the Family Reunion.
I worked without a moment’s rest and did not stop for water until noon. After eating, the disciples discussed taking uncooked wontons back.
Some feared punishment if the elders found out. Others proposed bringing the elders a portion in hopes of mercy.
“Eating them ourselves is one thing. What if the dining hall hears?”
“Then they should learn to cook. Must I study sword flight while starving?”
“Before today, I could endure it. Now that I’ve tasted these, how can I go back to soup that resembles swill?”
“We’ve suffered under the Swill Hall for too long!”
“The Discipline Hall’s paddles are no joke.”
Their voices faded. Everyone drooped.
A young disciple’s eyes darted. He tapped the table. “I have an idea!”
Senior Brother Jing, foremost among the disciples, was a sword prodigy unseen in a century and favored by every elder. If he pleaded for them, the Discipline Hall might show mercy.
The others still shook their heads.
“Senior Brother Jing looks as though strangers should stay ten paces away. I don’t dare greet him.”
“He established his foundation at nineteen. What would he have to say to us?”
“Perhaps he only looks cold. Fourth Brother is easygoing too.”
“First Senior Brother guards Dragon Prison Ravine day and night. Let’s not trouble him over something this small.”
The young disciple finally sneered. “Fine. Go back to the dining hall.”
“Don’t!”
“Even Fourth Brother couldn’t survive that food!”
Unable to find a better plan, several disciples carried steaming bowls of the Family Reunion back to fetch reinforcements.
They did not return for a long while.
That night, however, the earth shuddered repeatedly. The town buzzed with rumors.
No one knew that I surveyed the mountains and saw a comet more than ten feet long in the northeast, its light spearing the center of the sky.
It was the omen of a spiritual creature emerging.