Along the River by Adeline Yen Mah Page B

greet us and leads us to the second floor. He seats Baba, Gege and me at a square wooden table next to the balcony.
    “Window seat for the young lady!” he exclaims.
    Through the open window next to me, I have a perfect view of the river. A most delicious aroma of sizzling hot oil and burnt sugar makes our mouths water and our empty stomachs growl.
    “Ma Lao Ban (Proprietor Ma), I see you are prospering!” Baba says.
    “Zhang Da Ren (Magistrate Zhang)! Thank you for giving me face by coming to my humble establishment so often. I am greatly honored.”
    “What are you cooking that smells so good?”
    “That’s candied fruit, caramelized in hot oil and sautéed with fresh shrimp; a specialty of our establishment.”
    “Full house again, even though it’s so early in the morning. Congratulations! Why work so hard? Stay home and count your money!”
    “Your Honor has no idea how difficult life is for me. The people of Bian Liang are impossible to please. Just before you came in, a customer actually scolded me for serving hot dishes today. ‘Don’t you know it’s Han Shi Jie (Cold Food Festival) today?’ he asked me.”
    “What’s the Cold Food Festival?” Gege asks.
    “It’s the day before the Qing Ming Jie (Clear and Bright or Tomb Sweeping Festival),” Baba says. “Tomorrow is Qing Ming.”
    “Why is it called the Cold Food Festival?”
    “Like many of our other festivals, it comes from our history.”
    “How long ago, Baba? Please tell us,” I beg.
    “Fifteen hundred years ago, it was the Warring States period and a Duke was fleeing for his life. He ran out of food and was dying of starvation. One of his followers, named Jie, cut off a slice of muscle from his own leg and served it to his master. Eventually, the Duke recovered his health and his throne.
    “The Duke decided to appoint Jie to an important post in his cabinet. However, Jie wanted no part of the politics at court. He refused and hid in the mountains instead. The Duke set fire to the region to force him out.
    “After three days of raging flames, they found Jie’s body leaning against a tree, with the corpse of his old mother on his back.
    “The Duke was saddened, because he had not meant this to happen. He ordered that from then on, no fires were to be lit for cooking on the anniversary of Jie’s death. This is the origin of Cold Food Festival.”
    “Magistrate Zhang,” Proprietor Ma interrupts. “What can we prepare for you today?”
    “It’s my daughter’s first visit to a teahouse. I’ve told her about your noodles. Let’s have an assortment of dishes and some noodles for her. I’ll leave the selection to you.”
    “Right away, Your Honor!”
    A waiter brings a pot of hot tea and sets each place at the table with a pair of chopsticks, a porcelain teacup, a plate, a bowl and a spoon. He brings the cold dishes first: sliced ham, tea eggs, preserved tofu and snails with garlic.
    After a while, Proprietor Ma himself brings up the hot dishes. “First we have steamed pork ribs flavored with bamboo shoots; next a dish of dumplings filled with minced pork and mushrooms; then stewed duck and cabbage. Finally, another specialty of the house: a big plate of fresh carp from the Bian River, with noodles. Enjoy!”
    As we eat, I look out of the window at the river. The Rainbow Bridge is packed with people staring and pointing in one direction over the railing. The bridge is so close I can hear them shouting and see them gesturing in their excitement.
    I put my chopsticks down and lean out of the window. A large, flat-bottomed barge is approaching rapidly at an awkward angle. A gust of wind suddenly blows the boat off course, turning it so it’s lying almost parallel to the bridge. The crew on board is straining desperately to lower the mast and right the boat against the river’s swirling current. The top of the mast looks almost certain to hit the underside of the bridge and cause the boat to capsize. It’s very close. The captain