Riding the wind of rebirth

"However, the taste of theirs is slightly different from our pickled pepper flavor. I just used the pickled pepper fish roe method and replaced the ingredients with fish intestines and fish liver."

"Today's orange peel chicken was actually quite delicious, but it was overshadowed by the two fish dishes," Wu Renzhong said with a smile. "Just as Zhouzi said, with grilled fish, the other dishes at the banquet have no room to shine."

After dinner, everyone took one last swim as the sun set before coming ashore to gather around the campfire for tea and conversation.

Of course, you can't actually drink tea before going to bed. Zhouzhi cooked a pot of fermented rice wine and added osmanthus sugar, dried longan, and raisins to it, making the drink full of floral and fruity aromas.

"It's a pity I didn't bring lotus root starch," Feng Xueshan said. "This sweet drink made with pork knuckle would be great with lotus root starch."

“Actually, if I’m not picky, I can make it with cornstarch for thickening,” Zhou Zhi said with a smile. “The taste won’t be bad either.”

"Huh? So the ones you used to make for us at home... were they also made with bean flour instead of bean flour?" Yan Xiao asked.

“That’s what my mom prepared for my grandma!” Zhou Zhi slapped Yan Xiao on the head: “It’s either West Lake lotus root powder or Guizhou kudzu root powder, you wild boar who can’t eat fine chaff!”

My maternal grandmother had poor teeth. In the days before Southern black sesame paste existed, my parents, taking advantage of their previous jobs at the sugar and wine company, always kept lotus root powder, kudzu root powder, Manzhou specialty baby powder, Jingyang specialty corn powder, and "fried noodles," a favorite of Zhouzhi and his friends.

The fried noodles were made according to a recipe obtained by my fourth cousin. They were made with various beans, sesame seeds, rice, glutinous rice, lard, some appetite-stimulating and spleen-strengthening herbs, dried fruit, etc., stir-fried until cooked and fragrant, cooled, and then stored in an airtight jar. When you want to eat them, you can scoop out a small half bowl, add some sugar, pour boiling water over them, and mix them into a paste, which can be used as a meal.

Yan Xiao smacked his lips: "It's been so long since I've had Grandma's fried noodles. Why don't you make a bowl of fake lotus root starch to satisfy our cravings?"

“This little seedling is a master,” Zhou Zhi said with a smile. “Let the little seedling treat this guest.”

Making "lotus root starch" is similar to thickening a sauce. First, add a little cold water to the soybean starch you brought to make a thick paste. Then, pour in boiling fermented rice water and stir quickly to heat the starch paste evenly and make it into a paste.

Mai Xiaomiao likes both lotus root starch and kudzu root starch, and the two of them often have them as a late-night snack. Mai Xiaomiao often makes them herself, and her skills have become quite good.

The "lotus root starch" made from ordinary sweet potato starch is not as fragrant as the real lotus root starch, but with the addition of fermented glutinous rice, osmanthus, and dried fruit, it tastes pretty good. Everyone gave Mai Xiaomiao a thumbs up, saying that she has learned from good people and now her cooking skills are quite decent.

The praise was a bit sarcastic, but Mai Xiaomiao was very happy. After all, before she met Zhou Zhi, she was truly a woman who "never lifted a finger to cook." Although she had received countless praises since childhood, she never imagined that she would be praised for her cooking skills.

Then it was concert time again, and this time everyone learned their lesson and chose to sing folk songs.

The past two years have seen a surge in popularity for folk music. Not only did the "campus folk song" genre emerge in mainland China, but it also revived the once-popular but now stagnant Taiwanese campus folk music scene. These songs don't demand high technical skills from the singers; they emphasize simplicity, spontaneity, and naturalness. Many songs, sung in unadorned, raw voices, sound better than those sung by professionals skilled in vocal techniques and enunciation. They prioritize innocence and emotional resonance.

Let's leave aside new campus folk songs like Lao Lang's "My Deskmate" for now. Songs that came from Taiwan in the early years, such as "Olive Tree," "Childhood," "Grandma's Penghu Bay," and the not-too-old "Love Song 1990," are all pretty much the same.

The best accompaniment for folk songs is the acoustic guitar, so everyone is welcome to sing freely tonight.

Mai Xiaomiao doesn't know many songs, but recently she's become obsessed with "Today is Your Birthday." Her voice is very delicate and tender, and in Zhouzhi, it sounds like a "child's voice."

The first half of the song has a beautiful and soothing melody, which Mai Xiaomiao could easily handle. However, when the high notes of the verse "We wish you a happy birthday, my motherland" began, Mai Xiaomiao's voice sounded too thin. Fortunately, at Zhou Zhi's suggestion, Shama and Azi joined in in time. In particular, Shama's standard ethnic singing style soprano voice really brought the song to life. After the song was finished, Yan Xiao and Yang Honghui slapped their thighs and exclaimed that they had thoroughly enjoyed listening to it.

Next, Yan Xiao and Zhou Zhi collaborated on a song called "My Brother Who Sleeps in the Upper Bunk," which is now a must-sing song in dormitories when calling for friendship, and almost all boys are familiar with it.

Yan Xiao's voice wasn't particularly pleasant, and his Mandarin wasn't very fluent either. He sang with a Sichuan accent, but he had plenty of breath control. Therefore, Zhou Zhi took on the role of supporting Yan Xiao during the chorus, letting his brother take the lead. Zhou Zhi's job was simply to correct Yan Xiao's slightly off-key singing and bring him back to the right track.

Yan Xiao felt pretty good after singing the song, and said with great enthusiasm that he had never performed so well before, and asked to sing another song.

Everyone applauded and cheered in approval, so Zhou Zhi chose another song for him. Strictly speaking, this was the real folk song, "In That Faraway Place," written by Wang Luobin based on a Northwest folk song.

This song tells a romantic love story between a Han Chinese youth and a Tibetan girl, and it was composed as early as 1939. Later, it became the theme song of the movie "Spring in a Small Town" in 1948, but due to the conservative social atmosphere at the time, the song did not have a great impact.

Then in 1988, the song was published for the first time in the magazine "Songs" in the form of simplified musical notation. Everyone suddenly realized that the song was really well written!

The song quickly became popular in China and won the "Golden Record Special Composition Award" from the Ministry of Culture of China and China Record Corporation in 1991. In 1992, it was named a "Classic Chinese Music Work of the 20th Century". In 1994, Wang Luobin received the "Special Contribution Award for East-West Cultural Exchange" from UNESCO for this song.

At this point, half a century had passed since the song was created.

So songs, like people, also depend on the right time, place, and people. It's like the saying, "When the time is right, heaven and earth lend their strength; when luck turns, even heroes are powerless." There's no way to reason with them.

Yan Xiao initially felt he was singing with great feeling, until he sang the last line, "I wish she would hold a leather whip and gently strike me every day," when he realized Zhou Zhi was digging a hole for him. (End of Chapter)