Chapter 2: Boiling Water

Many things convenient in the city become troublesome in the countryside.

Like starting a fire.

Some households might already use gas stoves. But Sang Shen’s old home still used a wood-burning stove.

When renovating years ago, they even built a single-story tiled room next to it. Just to fit a larger wood stove.

The stove could heat three large pots at once. But for Sang Shen, who only wanted to boil water for instant noodles, it felt excessive.

Yet there was something worse now…

The added tiled room had once leaked water. The wood stove below had collapsed halfway. Weeds even sprouted from the brick seams.

It was clearly unusable.

Boiling water would be difficult.

Thinking of this, Sang Shen felt his stomach growl louder. It rumbled audibly.

After returning with groceries yesterday, he was too tired to eat. He bathed and went straight to sleep.

Now, nearly twenty hours without food, he felt dizzy.

“But… it shouldn’t be like this… Before I crossed over, until I left, it was fine. It never broke… Why is it broken this time?”

Sang Shen scratched his head and sighed.

“Could it be because Yin Xing’s here? Did history change because of her?”

Back in the living room, Yin Xing lay on the redwood table, freshly wiped yesterday.

She looked like she was melting.

Clearly too hungry to move.

“The stove at home collapsed. I’ll check the nearest supermarket for an electric kettle. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

Sang Shen scratched his head awkwardly.

Yin Xing didn’t reply. She buried her face in her arms, as if giving up on breakfast. She seemed ready to sleep through her stomach’s protests.

“Buying a bike needs to be a priority…”

Sang Shen muttered to himself as he left. He didn’t notice Yin Xing lift half her face from her arms. Her light green eye quietly watched him until he vanished from sight. Then she closed her eyes again.

“Idiot who always takes everything on himself…”

***

Yin Xing wasn’t asleep.

She couldn’t sleep at all.

She was just too hungry to move.

Thinking Sang Shen wouldn’t be back for over an hour, time felt sticky.

As she glanced at the wall clock again, she heard rapid footsteps outside.

“Yin Xing! I don’t need to go all the way to the supermarket for an electric kettle!”

Sang Shen stood excitedly at the door. He gently shook a small blue gas canister in his hand.

It was about a third the size of a regular gas canister. But it looked proper enough.

Yin Xing tilted her face slightly. She seemed unimpressed, her gaze landing on him. She didn’t speak.

Sang Shen was used to this. After a few seconds, he continued without awkwardness.

“It’s a wood stove from Cousin! We can cook with it. Boiling water is no problem! It’s pretty fuel-efficient too!”

She seemed uninterested. She turned her head away, leaving only the back of her head facing him.

“Sleepy? No worries, sleep a bit. I need to find some dry branches to start the fire. This small stove uses smaller wood, so it’s convenient… I’ll call you when we can eat!”

No response.

But Sang Shen felt she might have softly said ‘mm.’

When he listened closely, it seemed like an illusion.

***

Sang Shen went to gather firewood.

Yin Xing slumped in the chair. She tilted her head back, staring at a piece of cured meat swaying slightly.

It was another thing Sang Shen got from Cousin’s place. A strip of smoked cured meat.

It looked blackened, as if it had picked up some engine oil at Cousin’s house.

That wouldn’t be surprising at Cousin’s…

It had no meaty aroma. The smoked cured meat was dry as a branch.

She tried recalling the taste of cured meat. But for some reason, she couldn’t.

It had been a while since she ate cured meat.

In the city, it was much pricier than fresh meat.

Sang Shen hadn’t returned.

About five minutes had passed.

The stream outside babbled, irritating her.

She sat on the threshold, leaning against the doorframe. She tiredly eyed the wood stove made from the small gas canister.

Welding marks were obvious. The craftsmanship was rough and dirty. But it seemed carefully designed. Through the open lid, she saw separate areas for wood and ash.

It might actually burn well…

“Huh, sitting by the door again?”

Yin Xing ignored him, continuing to inspect the small wood stove. Its structure was simple, nothing more to see. She was just reading the safety warnings on the gas canister now.

This canister probably never imagined it would become a wood stove for burning fire.

Though it had no gas left, it made her instinctively worry it might explode if lit…

“These matches are a bit damp…”

Sang Shen tossed a failed match aside. He took another from the box. This time, it lit. He tossed it into a bundle of straw he’d shaped with his hands.

The straw didn’t catch. The match went out quickly.

“Not dry enough…”

Sang Shen coughed heavily.

He lit another match.

This time, he carefully held the flame to the straw. He leaned down, blowing air.

Tiny sparks grew brighter.

Then the straw flared up.

Though raised in the city, he’d spent two years in the countryside using a wood stove.

Starting fires was something he was decent at.

He tossed the burning straw into the stove, already lined with wood. He added a few thin dry branches he’d picked out.

Then he leaned down again, blowing air.

After nearly a minute, he exhaled heavily. He lifted his head.

“It’s lit!

The wood’s not dry enough, so it needs to burn a bit to get going…  I’ll wash the kettle. We can boil water soon!”

He’d started many fires before. But this was probably the happiest he’d been.

It was also the most he’d ever looked forward to instant noodles.

“…I want chopsticks.”

“Chopsticks? Sure… but why? I bought bucket noodles. They come with a fork.”

Yin Xing stared silently.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get them. Don’t stare like that…” Sang Shen shrank back.

“I’ll grab them right away…”

***

The wood stove burned brightly.

The firelight made Sang Shen and Yin Xing’s faces glisten with sweat.

Sang Shen was opening the bucket noodles. He sprinkled the seasoning packets onto the noodle cakes.

“Speaking of, you remember Cousin, right?  Ruo Jie, always tinkering with woodworking. Sometimes she welds stuff.  It’s rough, but it actually works pretty well…

Right?”

Yin Xing ignored him. She focused on the sausage in her hand, turning it over and over.

“Can’t open it?”

“…Open it.”

At his question, she handed the sausage to Sang Shen without hesitation.

“This needs scissors, but you can bite it too… You don’t mind, right?”

“…Open it.”

“Guess I’m using my mouth then…”

Sang Shen grabbed the sausage. He expertly bit the end, twisting it with his hands until it popped.

He peeled it like a banana and handed it to Yin Xing.

“It’s better in the noodles. This is the cheapest kind. It’s not great on its own…”

Yin Xing held the sausage, still half in its casing. She carefully threaded chopsticks through it. She tore off the rest of the casing. She shook it to ensure it wouldn’t fall.

“You’re from a farther future. You must know what happened to Ruo Jie, right? Did she keep avoiding jobs? Or open her own shop? Did she get married later?

I wonder how her life turned out. When Uncle passed, she cried so hard…”

Bubbles gurgled in the kettle.
Sang Shen added two branches to the stove.
He looked up to say more.
Then he saw Yin Xing tilt the sausage toward him.

“Whoa! What’s this? Grilling a sausage?”

“…Yeah.”

“You need oil for it to taste good.”

“…Doesn’t matter.”

“Just want to do it?”

“…Shut up.”

“Don’t act so annoyed… Want me to grill it for you?”

“…Grill another one.”

“Two? Can you eat both?”

“…One each.”

“Without oil, it’s not great. I’ve tried it. But grilling it crisp, the skin’s kinda nice…”

The water in the iron kettle roiled louder. It was nearly boiling.

Sang Shen turned the sausage on the chopsticks with one hand. With the other, he lifted the kettle. He poured the scalding water into the noodle buckets with their seasoning.

The faint aroma of shrimp and fish cake noodles wafted in the breeze at the door.

“Let’s clear the weeds by the door today. They don’t block the path, but they look messy.”

Sang Shen said, securing both noodle buckets with forks. He placed one beside Yin Xing.

“Three more minutes, and we can eat. I’m starving. Three minutes feels forever.”

Yin Xing glanced at him. She silently brought the slightly crisped sausage to her mouth. Braving the heat, she took a cautious bite.

“How is it? Good?”

“…Tastes bad.”

“Told you!!”