Zhenzhen stirred and turned the ingredients in the pot, allowing the oil and sauce to coat the surfaces of the ingredients evenly. This isolated them from direct flame contact, and the ingredients were thoroughly cooked by heat transferred through the pot and oil, without the charred feeling caused by grilling. Moreover, juices seeped out and mixed with the oil, maintaining moisture while producing a richer flavor than steaming or blanching. This aroma had rich layers—besides the natural fragrance of the ingredients themselves, there was the fat aroma and the mixed fragrances of other vegetables.
This method of heating and stirring ingredients in a pot without adding water was called “chao” (stir-frying). Zhenzhen knew this term, but whether in her hometown region of Liangzhe Circuit or Fujian Circuit where Wuyi Mountain was located, the stir-frying she had previously seen was only used for processing single ingredients at certain stages of cooking—for example, dry-roasting beans or dry-roasting spices before grinding them for seasoning. Adding oil to pots was generally used for deep-frying with considerable amounts of oil. This method of mixing vegetables and meat and stir-frying them with a small amount of oil was something Zhenzhen had never seen done by her mother, senior sisters, or Lin Hong. The most common cooking methods were still braising, boiling, steaming, and deep-frying.
Zhenzhen quietly called Xin Sanniang over to taste these stir-fried foods. Sanniang picked up a small amount to try, and the light that instantly flashed in her eyes as she chewed made Zhenzhen realize her earlier feeling was correct—these stir-fried dishes were very fragrant, with an appealing aroma different from other cooking methods.
The next day, both Zhenzhen and Lin Hong tacitly avoided mentioning the previous night’s events. In the morning, Lin Hong burned incense in his study. Since last winter, his favorite had been “Fan Hun Mei” (Soul-Returning Plum), made from black agarwood, cloves, turmeric, musk, and wax tea. Now he buried and lit a charcoal disc in a Longquan celadon three-footed incense burner about three inches tall, used an incense spatula to mound the ash into a hill shape, used incense chopsticks to make ventilation holes at the hill’s peak, tested the fire temperature with his hand above it, then placed a silver leaf bearing a pill of Fan Hun incense on top.
The incense pill heated up and began releasing fragrance that curled and rose. However, being heated indirectly over the fire produced no visible smoke. The ethereal fragrance brushed the face, sweet and serene, containing the herbal fragrance imparted by wax tea, making one feel as if in a plum grove.
Zhenzhen quietly observed throughout. Only after Lin Hong placed the incense burner on the desk did she say to him: “Teacher has burned this Fan Hun Mei many times, so that even when not burning incense, Teacher’s study naturally carries a thread of fragrance. However, carefully distinguishing, the fragrance remaining in the study differs from what burns in the burner. The burner’s fragrance has the fresh breath of herbs and trees, but the study’s remaining fragrance is dominated by the agarwood scent of black agarwood, with the wax tea aroma almost undetectable.”
“That’s natural. Most compound incenses use agarwood and sandalwood as the primary ingredients. When burned to the end, all herbal fragrances disperse, leaving only the agarwood and sandalwood scents. The soul of this Fan Hun Mei is the black agarwood.” Lin Hong took out a piece of black agarwood material to show Zhenzhen.
The black agarwood was colored like ebony, its wood grain filled with black oil, lustrous and warm. Zhenzhen tested it with force and found it extremely hard. Lightly rubbing it, the fragrance lingered on her fingers.
Lin Hong took out another bronze incense burner called “Chuxiang” used for scenting clothes to show Zhenzhen. The burner’s lid was bowl-shaped, the top resembling a lotus flower with smoke vents between the petals. Lin Hong lifted the lid, revealing a layer of dark brown oil accumulated over long use inside the lid. Zhenzhen took it and smelled it briefly, immediately sensing the rich floral and fruity fragrance of Hainan agarwood.
“Agarwood, especially materials like black agarwood, has lasting fragrance because it’s rich in aromatic resins. Oil can absorb and fix fragrance. Used in compound incenses, it can blend the scents of various aromatics. When burned, the aromatic resins rise with the heat and adhere to surfaces, making the fragrance last without dissipating. Aromatic herbs lack oil, so their lingering fragrance can’t compare to agarwood,” Lin Hong explained.
“Oil can absorb and fix fragrance…” Zhenzhen pondered carefully, seeming to understand something, her face showing delight.
Two days later, A’Che went down the mountain to buy stationery supplies Lin Hong needed. When he returned, he brought Zhenzhen a cleaned, plump chicken.
“If you want to eat meat, just say so directly—no need to hide it. Though the Young Master prefers vegetarian food, he doesn’t oppose others eating meat,” A’Che told Zhenzhen. “The Young Master says he respects every tongue.”
Zhenzhen busied herself immediately. At dinner that day, Zhenzhen presented the prepared chicken to Lin Hong and earnestly requested he taste it.
The chicken in the plate was prepared according to Lin Hong’s preferences—cooked with sesame oil, salt, and water, with scallions and pepper added later. Without excessive seasonings, the chicken was cut into pieces and plated after cooking, with the original broth served alongside.
Both chicken and soup were clear yellow in color with enticing aroma. Lin Hong tasted a piece briefly, remaining noncommittal. Looking carefully at the chicken pieces in the plate, he asked with a smile: “This chicken seems to be missing a leg—did you secretly eat it?”
“Not at all! This chicken originally had only one leg,” Zhenzhen answered with a smile. Seeing Lin Hong frown in confusion, she pointed to the red-crowned crane on the small island outside the door. “Teacher, look—just like that crane, it also has only one leg.”
Lin Hong looked up and indeed saw the crane standing on the island’s waterside on one foot, appearing to have only one leg.
Lin Hong chuckled, rose and walked outside, facing the red-crowned crane and slowly clapping his hands twice. Hearing the sound, the crane immediately spread its wings and cried out as if dancing, revealing the leg it had been tucking up.
Lin Hong calmly turned around, directing his gaze toward Zhenzhen: “Now is it single-footed or double-footed?”
“I see…” Zhenzhen acted as if suddenly understanding, meeting Lin Hong’s eyes with a mischievous smile. “Since Teacher knows that birds show one foot when not applauded and two feet when applauded, and you want a two-footed chicken, why didn’t you applaud when facing the chicken I made earlier?”
Lin Hong covered his forehead and laughed, then returned to the room. Looking at the chicken in the plate, he solemnly clapped twice and praised: “Tender and falling off the bone, pleasing in color. Li Bai’s poem says: ‘Ten parts green wine on the hall table, one dish of golden chicken on the plate.’ What you’ve made now, excellent in color, aroma, and taste, can also be called golden chicken.”
Zhenzhen joyfully thanked her teacher for the praise. Then she returned to the kitchen and brought out another dish she had temporarily hidden.
It was a dish stir-fried with fragrant oil. Lin Hong focused his gaze to examine it, identifying pickled cucumber, ginger, scallion whites, spring bamboo shoots, dried shrimp, and chicken, all cut into long strips. Green, red, yellow, and white alternated, lustrous and pleasing to the eye.
Lin Hong picked up several vegetable strips to taste, pondering silently. After a moment, he picked up chicken strips to taste, chewing carefully but still not expressing his opinion.
“The chicken inside is from that chicken leg I saved earlier,” Zhenzhen explained, then detailed what happened that night after Lin Hong left following the grilling incident. She continued: “I discovered that using oil to cook ingredients provides even heating without easy burning. Compared to steaming or boiling, the aroma is more fragrant. Perhaps as Teacher said, it’s because oil can absorb and fix fragrance. In this plate of chicken strips with pickled vegetables, the fresh fragrance of ginger, scallions, and bamboo shoots, and the salty fragrance of pickled cucumber have adhered to the chicken strips during stir-frying. Meanwhile, the meaty aroma from the chicken strips has also dissolved into the oil, coating the vegetables. Several fragrances blend and enhance each other, creating rich flavors. Though Teacher advocates preserving the true taste of ingredients, occasionally making slight changes and trying fresh, rich flavors isn’t a bad thing.”
Lin Hong finally smiled: “Yes. There are countless millions of people in the world, each with different tastes. Both light and rich flavors have their lovers. Even the same person won’t love only one flavor their entire life—preferences for light or heavy tastes change with environment, mood, and experience. Missing rich, fatty flavors after long vegetarian eating, or wanting to clear the mind with vegetables after long meat consumption, are both normal. Food has no hierarchy—only whether it suits the eater at that time and place. I prefer light eating. You acknowledge this and seriously study what I teach, but you’re not constrained by my views. You still follow your own heart to explore different flavors and new methods. This is good—it shows you can think independently. Learning without thinking leads to confusion. You’ve now passed beyond that stage.”
Zhenzhen beamed with joy, raising her hands to her forehead in solemn thanks for Lin Hong’s affirmation. Lin Hong examined the dish again and added: “If I were to mention shortcomings, the heat was slightly excessive—the chicken strips are a bit tough. If cooked quickly at high temperature and removed from heat immediately, both texture and color should be better.”
Zhenzhen said: “The iron pot I used is normally for braising and steaming rice. Shaped like an ancient tripod, it’s very thick and heavy, slow to heat and slow to cool. Because it’s so heavy, lifting it quickly to remove it from heat for cooling isn’t easy. Also, the flat bottom makes stirring during stir-frying not very smooth.”
Lin Hong nodded: “Actually, similar stir-frying methods are recorded in ‘Essential Techniques for the Welfare of the People,’ using bronze cauldrons. I’ve seen friends from Shu region do this. I tried it myself but felt the pot wasn’t suitable—usage wasn’t smooth, so I didn’t continue. Perhaps we could try together to modify the iron pot’s design to make stir-frying more convenient.”