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墨書 Inktalez
As Ye Fangfei stepped out of the kitchen to prepare dinner, Ye Ting watched the little moon. Inside the kitchen, Hao Chunying had already finished frying the twisted doughnuts and skewers.
"Mom, don’t pour the oil out yet; we’ll fry some meatballs later," Ye Fangfei said. "Zhicheng had someone buy a few pounds of meat yesterday, so let’s fry more meatballs. It’ll be perfect for the New Year’s feast." She took a piece of hind leg meat from the cupboard.
The so-called meatballs weren’t made entirely of meat; rather, they were dough balls with some minced meat mixed in.
"Alright, since we’re frying, let’s make some radish and vermicelli balls too; they’re delicious as well," Hao Chunying suggested.
"How about frying some spring rolls too? We still have some hairtail fish at home; let’s fry a bit of that as well." The thought of crispy spring rolls and crunchy fried fish made Ye Fangfei swallow hard.
"Calm down a bit; it’s only because Zhicheng spoils you. Otherwise, how could you waste so much oil?" Hao Chunying laughed while scolding her daughter, who kept suggesting different fried dishes.
"I’m only thinking about it because Zhicheng brought back a bucket of soybean oil from his trip to the Northeast. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t dare to think about frying anything," Ye Fangfei replied with a smile.
In reality, ever since marrying Tang Zhicheng, Ye Fangfei had never been short on oil. He always had connections to buy oil, and if there was none available, he would bring back some fatty pork to render lard.
Of course, not being short on oil was relative; compared to others, she was better off. However, she still couldn’t just fry whatever she wanted whenever she felt like it. This time, Tang Zhicheng had brought back a twenty-pound bucket of soybean oil, and with the New Year approaching—today was already the twentieth day of the twelfth lunar month—Ye Fangfei was eager to fry more dishes to take when visiting her aunt and uncle as New Year gifts.
This way, she wouldn’t have to spend money on gifts, and the recipients would be pleased since everything was homemade fried food.
"But you still need to be frugal; it’s not easy to buy oil these days. You can’t just waste it like this," Hao Chunying said, accustomed to being thrifty. Watching Ye Fangfei use so much oil made her heart ache.
Ye Fangfei ignored her mother’s concerns and continued frying not only spring rolls and fish but also crispy pork and potato chips. Finally, using the leftover oil in the pot, she fried some dried steamed buns.
"This is too wasteful! You’ve used two pounds of oil just now; this much oil could last a year for cooking!" Hao Chunying grumbled while taking the fried items outside to freeze in a large vat.
Ye Fangfei paid no mind to her mother’s complaints and served herself a bit of everything before bringing it into the room for Ye Ting.
At noon, Ye Fangfei and Hao Chunying had fried dried buns for lunch. To avoid eating just dried buns alone, Ye Fangfei also made an egg drop soup with seaweed.
"By the way, you’re not going back home for the New Year this year, right?" Hao Chunying asked.
"We're not going back. Little Moon is so small; it would be terrible if she got sick on the way," Ye Fangfei replied. "Besides, ever since Little Moon was born, my in-laws haven’t shown any sign of acknowledgment. Why should I put my warm face against their cold backside?"
"What? Your father-in-law and mother-in-law didn’t send anything for Little Moon?" Hao Chunying was genuinely surprised.
"No, Tang Zhicheng wrote back saying they had a granddaughter, but in their reply, they didn’t even send a diaper," Ye Fangfei said, her frustration evident. "And as for Tang Zhicheng's sisters-in-law, they only asked how I was doing in their letters; they didn’t show any concern at all."
Ye Fangfei felt truly disheartened by her hometown's indifference. She had always been courteous and considerate towards them, but she never expected them to treat her child with such disregard.
Especially Zhang Man, the second sister-in-law, who had given birth to a daughter a few months ago. Ye Fangfei had sent her two pounds of brown sugar and some fabric to make clothes for the baby at that time. Yet when it came to her own child, it was as if Zhang Man didn’t even acknowledge it.
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