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Potatoes and salt particles and nothing else — not even chopped green onions or star anise — tumbled within an old iron pot, making up a soup so thin that it may make people cry.
People had once researched the history of food in Russia. Roasted quail, roasted vegetables, and pickled cabbage became popular around 1916, but these were only available to rich people. For ordinary folk, it was already pretty good if they could eat potatoes. The economy was on the rise, but for poor students like them, things like lemon-broiled trout were still beyond their reach.
Alexei’s eyes showed obvious hunger as he dragged a spoon through his soup. Although he had already eaten potatoes for a month, it was hard to disdain any food when he had only been able to be 80% full at best during that time.
He carefully fished out the cooked potatoes and placed them on a separate plate.
They had eaten potatoes for a month straight. Alexei was currently preparing their breakfast, and anything left over would be their lunch.
After Zhang Sushang finished two hundred jumping jacks and fifty burpees, he was panting for air and covered in sweat. This body’s fitness was too poor, if his granduncle saw it, he would definitely force him to run ten kilometres every day to build up strength. Jogging wasn’t very intense and was good for practising endurance, it was one of the best aerobic exercises out there.
It was a pity that St. Petersburg in February was truly too inhospitable for outdoor exercise. With the weather cold enough to freeze a basin of water into ice, it would only be self-torture to jump around out there.
Living to ninety years old was such a difficult task, Zhang Sushang had no desire to let himself get sick.
When he finally regained his breath, Zhang Sushang took advantage of the heat still running through his body to fetch water from the well behind the house and clean the doors, windows, tables, and floor with a rag. Since one of his adoptive fathers had a career in medicine, his hygiene habits had always been very good. Now that he lived and ate at another’s expense, it didn’t make any sense to not even do a little housework.
When Alexei turned around, he saw the Chinese boy who was two years younger than him on the ground with his butt sticking out, vigorously fighting against the floor. “Chyushka, come eat,” he called.
Zhang Sushang responded and walked to the dining table. Upon seeing a lonely potato on the plate, he rolled up his sleeves.
“Wait, Alexei, I have something good.”
Under Alexei’s confused gaze, he ran to his room and came back with a small jar. “Is this sauerkraut?” he asked, pleasantly surprised.
Zhang Sushang: “That’s right!”
Sauerkraut was an important commodity in Russia during winter. Russian style pickled vegetables were a big hit in the world of fermented foods, among which pickles were an important part of the cuisine.
Yesterday, Zhang Sushang had used his profits from selling scrap to buy a small jar of sauerkraut from the market. It wasn’t that he couldn’t buy more — after all, he also had his salary from cleaning the library — but that if he wanted to store a large amount of sauerkraut at home, it was more cost-effective to do it himself.
During the meal, he proposed the idea of making sauerkraut at home, but Alexei hesitated. “I don’t know how,” he said.
Zhang Sushang: “I know!”
His father was very good at cooking, his grandparents even had a history in kitchens; although he wasn’t good enough to be a chef, he had at least learned a few skills. Paocai, kimchi, or sauerkraut, none of them were a problem!
Alexei’s joy was obvious. He cheered, jumped up, and cleared away the dishes, for once as lively as any other twenty year old young man.
“Chyushka, you should’ve told me you know how to pickle vegetables earlier! I’m fed up with only having potatoes to eat!” he said, happily patting Zhang Sushang’s shoulder as they left the house.
Zhang Sushang was once again almost knocked to the ground. “Then why didn’t you do it before?”
Alexei: “I didn’t know how!”
The two went out together. Zhang Sushang was still covered in a thin layer of sweat and couldn’t help but sneeze when the wind blew around them. Alexei gave him a look, then unwound his own scarf and wrapped it around his neck a few times.
“Chyushka, you don’t have enough warm clothes, you even only have two pairs of socks.”
He rubbed his nose with a grimace. “Don’t remind me, I’ve washed those socks so many times they’re going hard.”
Someone not so particular about things might wear a pair of socks for three or four days, then turn them inside out and wear them for another three or four days, but Zhang Sushang couldn’t bring himself to do this. He was a figure skater. Once he stuck his feet into a pair of skates, he might practise for the whole day. If he didn’t change socks every day, his feet would stink to high heaven like fermented fish or stinky tofu. His habit of often changing socks persisted even now, with him unable to go longer than two days with the same pair of socks no matter how much he tried to endure it.
Men who loved sports couldn’t not care about cleanliness, otherwise just their body odour would be enough to smother people a dozen metres away.
In Alexei’s opinion, this housemate of his had many things he was fussy about. As for himself, he had three pairs of socks which he washed every three days. He glanced at Chyushka’s cotton socks which were hung indoors, one of which had a hole.
The snow had melted a little, causing it to be rather slippery to walk on. Zhang Sushang’s cotton-soled shoes were unable to withstand it — as he walked, they became soaked through and he slipped as he walked, but he didn’t complain. The snow on the road eventually became stained brown and they knew that they were approaching somewhere with many people.
Civil war in the early years of the Soviet Union had caused hyperinflation to the point that banknotes of 100,000 rubles came into existence. The situation had since stabilised, and numbers on banknotes began to shrink as the nation entered a period of growth.
Zhang Sushang used six rubles to buy two bags of white radishes. He originally wanted to haggle more, but the old man running the stall looked stronger than a bear and the price was already so low that he might have picked up his hoe and hit him over the head if he did. Even if he had a 1.9m tall housemate next to him, he didn’t dare to push it.
Little did he know that the gaze coming from Alexei had already changed to admiration — he had never bought such cheap radishes before!
They moved on and bought salt. The materials they had on hand were limited and it wasn’t the season for cucumbers, it was enough to some make pickled radishes. Their rented house had only a metre-tall water tank but there was a well behind the house, so they didn’t have a pressing need for storing water.
Finally, Zhang Sushang bought some flour and a piece of white lard. The latter was the most expensive purchase they made that day, and Zhang Sushang cherished it so much that he handed it to his housemate.
“Protect it well, this is our protein for the next month.”
Alexei held the radishes with one hand and put the lard into his coat with the other. “I will guard it with my life,” he replied seriously.
Watching Zhang Sushang gasp for his life as he hauled a bulging sack through the snow, Alexei silently moved to walk in front of him. Having someone to block the wind made things better for Zhang Sushang. When he looked up and saw Alexei’s broad figure, his nose grew hot.
Dad, I miss you.
When the two returned home, they fetched more water because the first step of pickling vegetables was to wash them. Alexei, shivering, ushered Zhang Sushang inside to light the fire while he drew the water himself. When they were done, they sat on hard benches and scrubbed the radishes clean.
In this crappy time period, if someone wanted to improve their diet without spending an obscene amount of money, they had to do things themselves. If Zhang Sushang wanted to relive the days when he could have countless delicacies delivered to his door with the touch of a button, he might have to live for over a hundred years.
Psh, who would wait for that long just for pickled radishes? He’ll make it himself!
When it came to making brine, Alexei didn’t know what to do, so he pulled him away and said, “Let me do the rest of it, you go out and help me buy a newspaper, I forgot to earlier.”
They had never subscribed to newspapers before — if they wanted to read something, they would look through the library’s old newspapers or books, which were more than enough for two young men.
Alexei grunted as money was stuffed into his hand. As he went out the door, he heard Chyushka yell from behind him, “You can buy a few more booklets while you’re at it.”
What’s Chyushka reading tabloids for? There were so many medical books in the library, not to mention other textbooks, yet those still weren’t enough for him to study?
Although confused, Alexei bought them as requested. Looking at the torn socks, he tried to ignore them but eventually couldn’t take it and, glancing at his housemate who was rubbing salt over the radishes, he quietly went to his room and took out a box of sewing tools.
Zhang Sushang sealed the vegetables into jars then washed his hands with freezing cold well water. This body belonged to the son of a wealthy man living in the countryside who had lived a delicate life for the past eighteen years and never did an iota of manual labour; he grimaced in pain at the cracks that had formed between his fingers.
“It’d be great if there was Pechoin or Yu Mei Jing1Both are skincare brands here,” he muttered to himself, then went to make noodles. He’d had more than enough of potatoes, if he didn’t eat something different today his life would no longer have meaning.
They didn’t buy fine flour at the market this time, and Zhang Sushang also couldn’t bear to buy it. Instead they brought back a bag of coarse flour which would usually be used to make bread, the type of hard bread like lieba.2Similar to Russian rye bread and in fact is made specifically to resemble it but using wheat grains instead of rye grains; originates from Northeast China, which has been significantly influenced by Russians
Zhang Sushang really couldn’t get used to it. When the dough was kneaded and resting, he sat and considered the cabbages and radishes they had left over which he could use to make vegetable pancakes.
Picking up the stack of newspapers which Alexei had left on the table, he began reading.
It was fortunate that when he was in Russia learning jumps with Coach Vasily, the man not only taught him figure skating skills but also forced him to learn the Russian language. Zhang Sushang was naturally gifted in languages and his reading and writing skills were much better than the original goods’, so reading Russian newspapers was a piece of cake.
In the corner of a newspaper which had relatively low sales and was only sold in St. Petersburg and its surrounding towns, Zhang Sushang saw what he was looking for.
No matter what era it was, newspapers would always have a section for articles by the public. In a time before online novels, these articles were the best way for literati to make their debut and sell their words and ideas.
This particular newspaper, called the St. Petersburg Morning Post, was currently soliciting stories from ordinary people. There weren’t any specific requirements, only that these stories should be interesting and eye-catching.
Once the article was published, there would be a reward of 20 rubles.
Zhang Sushang: It’s this one!
By now, the dough had rested enough. “Alexei,” he said, looking up at his housemate, “I want to ask you something. I’ve made some noodles and want to fry some vegetable pancakes later, but the pancakes need oil. Can I use your pot to render some lard…”
Before he could finish, the scene before him stunned him into silence.
“You can, what’s the matter?” Alexei replied. Upon following Zhang Sushang’s gaze down and seeing the socks in his hands, he grinned. “Surprised? My dad’s a tailor, I started helping my mum mend her dresses when I was five years old.”
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- 1Both are skincare brands
- 2Similar to Russian rye bread and in fact is made specifically to resemble it but using wheat grains instead of rye grains; originates from Northeast China, which has been significantly influenced by Russians
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