Chapter 20

This time, the three of them smoothly arrived at the corner of the market where the snack stalls were supposed to be. The scene before their eyes left Wang Yong and Da Wei at a loss. The familiar snack stalls from their childhood were gone, replaced by rows of restaurants on both sides of the road, all of which were doing good business. People came and went, bustling and lively. The two exchanged glances, what was going on? Where were the fried dough sticks and the buns and steamed bread from their childhood?

Wang Qian, standing behind them, grew impatient and nudged the two, saying, "Come on! I'm starving. Take me to eat something! I want to eat the tofu pudding and fried dough sticks you mentioned."

Wang Yong and Da Wei were suddenly flustered. The stalls they remembered were gone, as was the old Yang they remembered, and the taste they remembered. Just as they were at a loss, a voice came from the side, "Are you looking for Old Yang's fried dough sticks and tofu pudding? Are you here for school or work?"

The two turned to see a farmer in his fifties with dark skin and simple clothing. Although his clothes were plain and worn, they were very clean, quite different from the usual village farmers. In front of him was a pile of walnuts, which he must have grown himself, and he was taking advantage of the market to make some money. Da Wei quickly approached and said, "Yes, Uncle. We're from Banship. We've been away for over ten years, and we can't stop thinking about the fried dough sticks, tofu pudding, and big buns from our childhood. We came to the market to try them, but when we got here, everything had changed. I remember Old Yang's stall used to be right at the entrance, but now it's all different kinds of shops."

The old man's face lit up when he heard about Banship. He looked at the three of them and said, "From Banship? What's your relationship with Wang Dahai?"

Wang Yong, recognizing the name, quickly responded, "He's my uncle."

The old man was taken aback for a moment, then stared at Wang Yong intently. Wang Yong felt a bit uneasy under his gaze before the old man finally spoke, "You're Wang Yong, right? You've grown so much. I heard you're the village chief now? Your father, Erhai (Wang Yong's father, Wang Dajiang, was called Erhai by his elders and peers because his uncle was called Dahai), didn't have much luck!"

Hearing this, Wang Yong realized the old man not only knew his uncle but also his father. However, he couldn't remember who this person was. Just as Wang Yong was about to ask Xiao Guang for help, he saw the pile of walnuts in front of the old man, and his memory came flooding back.

In his childhood, this man often came to their house. He and Wang Dajiang were elementary school classmates, and his name was Cao Wei, from a neighboring village. Because he was the second son, Wang Yong always called him Uncle Er. Uncle Er's older brother died of an illness when he was a teenager, and he had a younger brother three years younger. Because the family was poor, his mother died of illness without money for treatment, and his father fell off a cliff while working in the mountains, leaving the two brothers without anyone to take care of them. Uncle Er was very smart and was the hope of the family. Everyone hoped that one day he would leave the village and become a city worker. However, to pay for his mother's medical expenses, the family's savings were depleted, and to ease the burden, he dropped out of school after the first year of junior high and returned to the village to plant fruit trees. Wang Yong remembered that every time Uncle Er came to their house, he would bring some treats, like an apple, a few walnuts, or some dried jujubes. His father learned the fruit tree planting techniques from Uncle Er. Later, Uncle Er went to work in the south and disappeared without a trace. Wang Yong often asked his father why Uncle Er hadn't visited for so long. His father would always sigh, pat Wang Yong's head, and sit silently smoking, saying nothing. His mother would always lament, "What a pity!" Even after growing up, Wang Yong never found out what had happened. The villagers didn't talk about it, as if they had forgotten that such a person had ever existed. The only one who knew the truth was probably his father, Wang Dajiang, but he never said a word.

Uncle Er picked up a few peeled walnut kernels from the ground and handed them to Wang Yong, saying, "Kid, it's been a long time since you've had Uncle Er's walnuts. Do you want to try them? Here, taste and see if it's the same flavor. I have a whole bag at home, and I was planning to bring it to you soon."

Looking at Uncle Er's aged face, Wang Yong silently took the walnuts, remembering the affection Uncle Er had shown him in his childhood. He felt a wave of emotions, and his eyes welled up with tears as he thought of his deceased parents. He gently put a walnut kernel in his mouth, and the sweet and fragrant taste of fresh walnuts filled his mouth. Memories of Uncle Er from his childhood came flooding back. Every year when the walnuts were ripe, Uncle Er would bring a bag of walnuts to Wang Yong, making the other village children drool with envy. In those days, there were no walnut trees in Banship, and the children could only sneak a few walnuts when the adults weren't looking. Wang Yong, however, always went to Uncle Er openly to get some. Uncle Er's orchard also had cherries, apricots, apples, pears, hawthorns, persimmons, and Wang Yong's favorite, jujubes. From the first ripe cherries in spring to the last persimmons in late October, Wang Yong always had a steady supply of fruit.

Seeing the loving look in Uncle Er's eyes, Wang Yong choked up and said, "Uncle Er, when did you come back? Why didn't you visit me?"

Uncle Er looked at Wang Yong affectionately, "Why are you still such a crybaby! You're going to be the village chief, you can't be so weak."

Wang Qian listened quietly to the conversation, not understanding the relationship between her brother and this farmer, and why he was crying. Da Wei, who had grown up with Wang Yong, knew a bit about Uncle Er but didn't know why he had left or where he had gone. He pulled Wang Qian aside to explain the relationship and some of the stories, but he also didn't know the details of Uncle Er's departure.

By the time Wang Qian and Da Wei returned, Wang Yong had already helped Uncle Er pack the walnuts into a bag. The bag, filled with over fifty pounds of walnuts, was easily carried on Wang Yong's shoulder. He supported Uncle Er with his other hand and walked over to the others.

"Uncle Er, this is Da Wei, do you remember him?" Wang Yong introduced.

"Of course I remember. The two of you were such troublemakers, climbing trees to pick walnuts. He climbed too high and couldn't get down, crying his eyes out on the tree."

Da Wei, embarrassed by Uncle Er's words, blushed.

Wang Yong quickly introduced Wang Qian to ease the tension.

"Uncle Er, this is my cousin, Wang Qian."

"Ah, I've heard about you. You're a pretty girl. Do you have a boyfriend yet?"

Wang Qian blushed but replied, "Uncle Er, I'm still in school!"

Da Wei, having recovered, said with his usual nonchalance, "Uncle Er, we came here specifically for the tofu pudding and fried dough sticks. Do you know where Old Yang moved to?"

"Follow me. Old Yang retired a few years ago, and now his son and daughter-in-law run the place. They built a two-story house on the street, living upstairs and running the business downstairs." Uncle Er led them down the street. After passing the police station, they saw a sign that read "Old Yang's Breakfast Shop."

Wang Yong and the others looked at each other, dumbfounded. They hadn't realized the shop was right next to the police station, where they had just come from.

The shop was quite busy. A man in his forties was frying dough sticks, and another person of similar age was making buns. A young man in his twenties was serving customers. Seeing Wang Yong and the others, he immediately greeted them, "Please come in." He led them to an empty table. Before he could ask, Da Wei eagerly said, "One bowl of tofu pudding and two fried dough sticks each, and four, no, three buns."

The young man didn't leave, smiling, "Our buns are now small, ten to a steamer, not the big ones from before."

"Then give us two steamers," Wang Yong said, placing the walnuts next to the table.

"Sure, coming right up."

In a short while, four bowls of tofu pudding were brought to the table. Wang Yong remembered that the tofu pudding from his childhood didn't have the savory sauce like in the city. It was just a large bowl of white, tender tofu pudding with no seasoning. The seasonings were on the table, including soy sauce, vinegar, homemade chili sauce, and sugar. The tofu pudding in front of them now had the savory sauce, with ingredients like black fungus, daylily flowers, peanuts, and cilantro. The table also had homemade pickles and salted vegetables, which were new. Wang Yong and Da Wei eagerly took a sip. The taste was the same! The white, tender tofu pudding was fragrant with the scent of soybeans, smooth and rich in flavor, sliding down their throats. Unlike the tofu pudding in the city, which was often watered down or coarse, this was just like in their childhood. They didn't wait to invite Wang Qian and Uncle Er, and started adding seasonings. Wang Yong added soy sauce, while Da Wei added extra chili sauce. Before the dough sticks and buns arrived, they had already finished their bowls of tofu pudding. Wang Qian, trying to act ladylike, took small sips, but when Wang Yong reached for her bowl, she quickly sped up. Uncle Er, however, drank slowly.

"Eight fried dough sticks, two steamers of buns, your order is ready."

"Three more, no, four bowls of tofu pudding," Da Wei called out.

Wang Yong, not waiting, picked up a fried dough stick. It was as thick as a child's arm and about a foot long, fried to a golden crisp. The surface was bubbly and crumbled at the slightest touch. When he bit into it, it made a satisfying crunch, releasing a mix of oil and flour that made him salivate. The outside was crispy and golden, the inside tender and chewy, just like in his childhood, but it didn't taste as sweet and fragrant as it did back then.

Da Wei, who didn't particularly like fried dough sticks, preferred the meat buns. The buns weren't as thin-skinned as those in the city; the skin was just right, and the bottom was chewy and sweet from the soup. The filling was cabbage and pork, very greasy, which Wang Yong never ate on the street. But the greasy buns were considered substantial and delicious by the villagers. The rich, fatty flavor was what made them appealing, and concerns about weight gain or dieting were seen as unnecessary worries.

Da Wei quickly finished one and a half steamers of buns, and Wang Yong helped Uncle Er and Wang Qian each get two. Wang Qian complained that Da Wei ate more than a pig. Uncle Er watched the younger generation bicker and play, slowly drinking his tofu pudding and eating his fried dough stick.

Drinking the tofu pudding with the savory sauce and listening to the noisy chatter around him, Wang Yong reflected. The times had changed, and a new generation had replaced the old. The children who once knew nothing had grown into young men, and the once strong men had become elderly. The tofu pudding from his childhood could no longer taste the same, perhaps this was the price of growing up.

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