PCJ – Chapter 124 Roasted Sweet Potatoes

When the gunfire and cannon shots suddenly ceased from the direction of Mountain, Zhang Jiaohua knew that the giant python had probably been dealt with. No matter how formidable it was, it was still flesh and blood, and remained vulnerable in the face of bullets and shells. Yet thinking back to that afternoon’s events still sent chills down his spine. He wondered if there had been any casualties among the PLA soldiers.

That day, Zhang Dechun went door-to-door to notify everyone: the alert had been lifted. Each household was to hurry and harvest their late rice before the rainy season began.

Zhang Jiaohua’s sweet potatoes were of the white-skinned, red-fleshed variety. They appeared white on the outside, but once peeled, the flesh inside was red. These sweet potatoes had a high sugar content, and when roasted, they tasted like a delicacy from heaven.

When Zhang Jiaohua arrived, he had a small knife with him. He selected a nicely sized sweet potato, peeled it, revealing the red flesh inside. Biting into it, it was very crunchy and juicy, tasting almost like fruit. However, eating it raw didn’t fully release the sweet flavor of the sweet potato, nor did it have the aroma of roasted sweet potatoes.

Despite the slight lack in flavor, it couldn’t dampen Zhang Jiaohua’s good mood.

Zuan Shanbao, watching his master eat with such a crunchy sound, was also extremely tempted, wagging his tail non-stop.

“There’s no use wagging, you don’t eat this stuff,” Zhang Jiaohua said, holding the sweet potato high to prevent Zuan Shanbao from licking it.

The more Zuan Shanbao couldn’t get it, the more he craved it. He kept circling Zhang Jiaohua, rubbing against him and wagging his tail incessantly.

“You really won’t eat this. Alright, fine, I’ll let you try.” Zhang Jiaohua, unable to resist Zuan Shanbao’s pestering, cut off a piece of the sweet potato with his small knife and fed it to Zuan Shanbao.

Zuan Shanbao was thrilled, but as soon as the piece entered his mouth, he was dumbfounded. He tasted it, didn’t even chew, and spat it out. He gave Zhang Jiaohua a puzzled look, as if wondering why his master found such an unpleasant thing so delicious.

Watching Zuan Shanbao’s bewildered expression, Zhang Jiaohua laughed heartily, deliberately taking another big bite in front of him, chewing with great enjoyment.

Zuan Shanbao, thoroughly puzzled, thought it might really taste good, and went back to lick the piece he had spat out, but found it still tasteless. It seemed his master’s taste was beyond his reach. He found a clean spot and lazily lay down. Having his appetite whetted but finding the food unpalatable was a very frustrating experience.

But Zuan Shanbao soon found something fun. The main owner occasionally tossed the sweet potatoes dug up from the ground into a pile. The sweet potatoes kept rolling like a living thing. Zuan Shanbao leapt and pounced on a sweet potato, then rolled on the ground with it, like a cat playing with a caught mouse.

“That’s so much fun!” Zhang Jiaohua watched Zuan Shanbao play with great interest.

Zhang Youping and Liu Qiaoye were skilled at farm work, being both nimble and strong. Naturally, they worked faster than others. It took a little more than an hour to dig up all the sweet potatoes from one plot. While digging the sweet potatoes, they also leveled the ground, making it ready for planting other crops next. 

Sweet potatoes with no damage could be stored in cellars for a longer period. They were sensitive to low temperatures and would spoil quickly if frozen. Farmers usually dried them slightly before storing them in cellars, where the temperature generally stayed above freezing. Sweet potatoes stored this way could last until the following spring, ready to be used as seed.

In the 1990s, though Meizi’ao had already surpassed the basic living standard, sweet potatoes remained an important crop. Most of the sweet potatoes were used to feed pigs, saving rice consumption. Without this, feeding one or two pigs could deplete the family’s grain before the early rice harvest next year.

Sweet potatoes had a good yield. A bit over one plot could produce four or five bushels. Zhang Youping and Liu Qiaoye loaded the sweet potatoes into baskets, carrying them home one load at a time. Zhang Jiaohua, being too short and weak, couldn’t help much and could only follow his parents back and forth.

At lunchtime, without Zhang Jiaohua needing to ask, Liu Qiaoye already put some sweet potatoes in the cooking pot. She also buried a few in the ashes in the stove.

Roasting sweet potatoes in the stove required patience. Zhang Jiaohua couldn’t help but check them frequently, pinching to see if they were done or worrying they’d burn and constantly turning them. The result was usually half-baked sweet potatoes.

Luckily, Liu Qiaoye kept the process under control. “Don’t rush, don’t rush. When the dishes are ready, the sweet potatoes should be about done.”

After Zhang Jiaohua’s recent vital energy loss, their meals had been quite good. Every other day, Zhang Youping would get a piece of meat from the commune. So Zhang Jiaohua always had a glossy, oily mouth.

As the dishes were nearly done, Liu Qiaoye used tongs to retrieve a sweet potato from the ashes, pinching it to check if it was fully cooked.

“This one’s done. Be careful not to burn yourself,” Liu Qiaoye said, blowing on the sweet potato and brushing off the ash before handing it to Zhang Jiaohua.

Though small, Zhang Jiaohua was adept at eating. He muttered a few spells, as if to make himself immune to burns. These spells were just his made-up nonsense, only providing psychological comfort without any real effect.

Carefully peeling off the thin skin, he revealed the bright red flesh. The sweet potato looked like a red crystal, appetizing just by sight. But it was still very hot, requiring some skill to eat.

Zhang Jiaohua yelped from the heat but couldn’t let go, taking occasional bites while blowing air into his mouth to cool it, eating messily but with great gusto, causing amusement to those watching.

“Eat slowly, no one’s going to take it from you. There are plenty more,” Liu Qiaoye said, worried about him burning himself.

After cleaning all the sweet potatoes, Zhang Youping left some attached to their vines, deliberately keeping them this way. He tied these to hang from the roof beams to air dry naturally, which would increase their sugar concentration and improve the flavor.

“Tonight, I’ll talk to Dad and Brother, and we’ll start harvesting the late rice tomorrow. We don’t want to clash when using the thresher,” Zhang Youping said, washing the dirt off his hands.

“Okay,” Liu Qiaoye always supported her husband’s plans on such matters.

The thresher was shared between Zhang Jiaohua’s family, his grandfather, and his uncle. They usually harvested together, but conflicts arose when everyone wanted to take advantage of good weather. Delaying meant risking the rainy season, so this time, Zhang Youping wanted to start harvesting a bit early to ensure they could do it in good weather, even if the rice wasn’t fully ripe yet.