Dinner looked all right, if Tang Fan did say so himself, as he set down the dish of braised pork and then called Dong’er to the table.
“You cooked?” Dong’er asked as she dropped down onto a chair. Her voice was still listless but at least she had the strength to get out of bed, unlike Sui Zhou, who was still bedridden with the illness that was sweeping the city and all three of them had managed to give each other over the last five days.
“It’s probably not as good as Sui Zhou’s but it looks all right,” Tang Fan said, shrugging, even if secretly he was rather proud of himself for having taken over the cooking for the house considering he was currently the most recovered of the three of them.
“You could have asked Dong Gu to bring over some food,” Dong’er pointed out.
“And make her sick as well?” Tang Fan scoffed. “No way. Don’t you trust me?”
Dong’er peered at the simple braised pork, fish soup and stir-fried vegetable with white rice for a moment. “It looks all right,” she admitted. Spooning some rice into her bowl, she added, “The rice came out good.”
“Of course,” Tang Fan scoffed. “Go on, eat. I’ll bring Sui Zhou his porridge…”
Tang Fan had not yet even finished his sentence when Dong’er spat out the piece of braised pork she just put into her mouth.
“What?” Tang Fan demanded indignantly as Dong’er made a face.
“What did you put in there?” Dong’er cried, spluttering. She reached for the soup and ladled some into her bowl, but then again, no sooner had the soup passed her lips that she spat it out again. “Tang Dage! I’m already sick, are you trying to kill me?”
“What are you talking about?” Tang Fan cried again. Tasting the pork, he frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”
“You must still be sicker than you think if you can’t taste that!” Dong’er cried. “It’s like you poured an entire bottle of vinegar into it! Even if you can’t taste it, how can you not smell all that vinegar? And that’s sugar in the soup, not salt! And what did you think the pepper was supposed to be?”
The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty
Dinner looked all right, if Tang Fan did say so himself, as he set down the dish of braised pork and then called Dong’er to the table.
“You cooked?” Dong’er asked as she dropped down onto a chair. Her voice was still listless but at least she had the strength to get out of bed, unlike Sui Zhou, who was still bedridden with the illness that was sweeping the city and all three of them had managed to give each other over the last five days.
“It’s probably not as good as Sui Zhou’s but it looks all right,” Tang Fan said, shrugging, even if secretly he was rather proud of himself for having taken over the cooking for the house considering he was currently the most recovered of the three of them.
“You could have asked Dong Gu to bring over some food,” Dong’er pointed out.
“And make her sick as well?” Tang Fan scoffed. “No way. Don’t you trust me?”
Dong’er peered at the simple braised pork, fish soup and stir-fried vegetable with white rice for a moment. “It looks all right,” she admitted. Spooning some rice into her bowl, she added, “The rice came out good.”
“Of course,” Tang Fan scoffed. “Go on, eat. I’ll bring Sui Zhou his porridge…”
Tang Fan had not yet even finished his sentence when Dong’er spat out the piece of braised pork she just put into her mouth.
“What?” Tang Fan demanded indignantly as Dong’er made a face.
“What did you put in there?” Dong’er cried, spluttering. She reached for the soup and ladled some into her bowl, but then again, no sooner had the soup passed her lips that she spat it out again. “Tang Dage! I’m already sick, are you trying to kill me?”
“What are you talking about?” Tang Fan cried again. Tasting the pork, he frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”
“You must still be sicker than you think if you can’t taste that!” Dong’er cried. “It’s like you poured an entire bottle of vinegar into it! Even if you can’t taste it, how can you not smell all that vinegar? And that’s sugar in the soup, not salt! And what did you think the pepper was supposed to be?”