After the divorce, he took care of his child and sold fried rice; his ex-wife was filled with regret

Meanwhile, in the neighboring courtyard house...

Just as Aunt Wang finished sweeping the floor of the main room clean, Old Liu from the bicycle repair shop was squatting in the middle of the yard, using an adjustable wrench to grease the rear axle of an old bicycle.

The thick, hot steam emitted from the range hood rolled over the low, blue-brick courtyard wall and landed directly in the small courtyard.

Clang!

Old Liu's adjustable wrench slipped from his hand and smashed onto the cement floor, splashing some oil.

He sniffed, then abruptly stood up from the stool, vigorously wiping his calloused hands on his greasy apron, his eyes gleaming.

"Auntie! Auntie, come out and smell this!"

As soon as the curtain to the main room was lifted, Aunt Wang came out carrying a small aluminum basin.

As soon as she stepped out the door, the old lady froze on the spot, the aluminum basin in her hand swaying slightly.

The tangy aroma wafted through the courtyard with the breeze. The old lady closed her eyes and carefully examined it, her expression slowly shifting from confusion to astonishment.

"This...this tastes like pickled mustard greens?"

Grandma Wang walked quickly to the courtyard wall, looked up at the white steam billowing from the chimney next door, and her face was full of disbelief.

Old Liu took two steps to the courtyard gate, peering through the crack into the alley next door, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.

"Besides the sour taste of the pickled mustard greens, there's also the smoky aroma of garlic frying in hot oil!"

Old Liu turned to look at Aunt Wang, his expression excited: "Those pickled mustard greens from your hometown, Boss Lin probably put them in the pot!"

Grandma Wang looked down at the empty aluminum basin in her hand, then at the small building next door, and muttered to herself:

"My jar of pickled mustard greens... could it produce this kind of aroma?"

……

In the kitchen lobby, two black clay pots were steadily placed on heat-insulating wooden mats, the residual heat from the bottom of the pots fueling the golden sour soup, causing rings of fine, bubbling bubbles to rise.

Just as Lin Fan was about to take a bowl to serve the soup, two very faint knocks suddenly came from the small iron gate on the first floor leading to the back alley.

"Thump, thump thump".

The knocking was very soft, followed by Old Liu's rough, panting voice, which drifted faintly up through the crack in the door:

"Is Boss Lin inside?"

Lin Fan's expression shifted slightly. He put down the white porcelain bowl in his hand, went down the wooden stairs to the first floor, passed through the corridor, and opened the small iron bolt on the back door.

"Squeak—"

As soon as the cast iron door was opened a crack, a chilling, bone-deep cold blasted out.

Old Liu, standing at the bottom of the steps, had his hands tucked into the sleeves of his greasy cotton-padded jacket. He was hunched over, his nose was red from the cold, and his neck was stretched out long.

His eyes were fixed on the hot air escaping from the crack in the door, and his Adam's apple was bobbing up and down wildly at an uncontrollable pace.

Behind Old Liu, Grandma Wang was also wrapped tightly in a dark blue old cotton-padded coat, her hands on her apron, her face full of disbelief as she inhaled the smell in the air.

"Uncle Liu, Auntie?" Lin Fan opened the door.

Old Liu was startled by the sound of the door opening. His face flushed slightly, and he awkwardly pulled his hands out of his sleeves, wiped them haphazardly on his trouser legs, and coughed lightly.

"Ahem... Mr. Lin, it's really not that I, an old man, came here on purpose to bother you."

Old Liu pointed to the neighbor's courtyard wall, then to the exhaust pipe billowing white steam overhead, his face showing an eager, almost agonizing, desire.

"We were shoveling snow and fixing our car in the yard next door, and the smell coming from your chimney... it's been blown through the wind and has filled our whole yard!"

Old Liu swallowed hard, his voice trembling:

"That smoky aroma of pickled cabbage, mixed with garlic and Sichuan peppercorns sizzling in hot oil and rich fish broth... I took one sniff, and my legs felt like they weren't my own anymore; they just uncontrollably crept along the wall all the way to your back door!"

"This smell... I just wanted to come over and ask you what kind of divine stew you're making?!"

Grandma Wang behind her also hurried up the steps, her expression full of surprise and uncertainty:

"Xiao Fan, the sour smell in this smoke... it smells more and more like the pickled mustard greens I gave you this morning?"

"But the sauerkraut that the old lady pickled herself didn't have this sweet and rich aroma. The old lady couldn't resist, so she came with Old Liu to take a look..."

Seeing the two old neighbors who had been lured over from next door by the aroma, Lin Fan smiled faintly.

"I didn't stew anything else, just the pickled cabbage and sweet potato noodles that the auntie brought, plus two slices of blackfish."

Lin Fan stepped aside and pushed open the iron gate:

"It's fresh out of the pot and simmering in the casserole. Since you've come all this way because of the smell, don't stand in the cold wind, come in and have a taste."

Upon hearing this, Old Liu completely forgot about formalities and, with his feet moving quickly, grabbed Aunt Wang and scrambled through the door.

"Quick, quick, ma'am, come inside right now! Every second you stay outside smelling this is torture!"

Lin Fan closed the back door, completely blocking out the wind, snow, and cold air outside.

The three of them entered the room.

As soon as they stepped into the living room, a strong, domineering heat, mixed with the aroma of Sichuan peppercorns, roasted garlic, and rich sour fish soup, instantly enveloped the two of them.

Old Liu's eyes immediately locked onto the two bubbling black clay pots in the center of the table, his eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

Aunt Wang hurried forward, took off her cotton-padded coat, and the moment she looked down and saw the inside of the casserole, she froze at the table as if struck by lightning, her hands hanging in mid-air:

"This...this really is the dried vermicelli that the old lady brought this morning?!"

Aunt Wang pointed to the translucent, amber-hued wide rice noodles in the casserole, her lips trembling violently:

"The sweet potato starch I received from my hometown was dull, rough, and as hard as twigs when it was dried. How did it become like strands of white jade after being cooked in your pot?!"

"Not a single piece is visible; it's so clear you can see the fish meat underneath?!"

Su Xiaoxiao then handed over two clean sets of bamboo chopsticks and a large bowl, smiling as she said:

"Auntie, these are really the glass noodles you brought! Brother Lin cooked them in the kitchen just now, and we just had a bite. They're so delicious we almost swallowed our tongues!"

Lin Fan pulled out two solid wood chairs for the two elders to sit down, picked up the serving chopsticks and scooped up a large handful of amber-colored wide rice noodles from the bottom of the casserole, then divided them into two large white porcelain bowls.

"Auntie, it's all thanks to the good quality of these rice noodles themselves."

Lin Fan's wrist was steady as he used long chopsticks to arrange the vermicelli at the bottom of the bowl, and he said with a smile as he ladled soup:

"The two things that are most dangerous to pure sweet potato starch in the countryside are: one is being impatient and boiling it directly in boiling water. The outer skin will become mushy and the inside will still be a hard white core that will crumble when you pick it up with chopsticks."

"Secondly, if you boil it in plain water, the vermicelli won't absorb any oil or flavor, and it will taste bland and astringent."

Lin Fan used a deep soup ladle to scoop two large spoonfuls of golden, rich sauerkraut fish soup and poured it over the glass noodles:

"I soaked it in warm water beforehand to soften it. Then I put it in the soup and simmered it over low heat."

"Sweet potato starch absorbs oil and moisture very well, and it absorbs all the rich broth made from fish bones. With the fish oil in the broth, it naturally becomes clear and does not stick together."

Lin Fan used a spoon to scoop up a few snow-white, curled, tender black fish slices from the top of the casserole and placed them on top of the vermicelli:

"Uncle Liu, Auntie, try it while it's hot and see if it suits your taste."