Chapter 292 Chai Fan Wonton
After sitting in the chair and resting for a while, Song Yuanchao finally recovered. He stood up and walked to the nearby toilet and found a faucet to rinse himself.
Because of saving people, his clothes were in a mess. His originally white shirt now looked like a zebra, and many places were stained with the blood of the injured.
After a quick wash, Song Yuanchao came out of the toilet and found a nurse to ask about the condition of the injured. The nurse told him that the condition of two injured people was quite serious and they were now undergoing surgery. Especially the middle-aged man in the co-pilot seat seemed to have no external injuries on the surface, but according to the doctor's preliminary judgment, he was likely to have internal bleeding. Internal bleeding is very troublesome and will directly lead to the death of the injured if rescue is not timely.
After hearing the nurse's answer, Song Yuanchao could only hope that the two injured could be rescued. He asked the nurse how long the operation would take, and the nurse replied that it was hard to say, maybe three or four hours, maybe even longer, and no one could guarantee it as long as the operation was not completed.
Looking at the time, it is already 3:30 in the afternoon. Originally, Song Yuanchao would have been on his way home at this time, but now because of such an incident, he has to stay in the hospital temporarily.
An hour later, several public security comrades, led by the noodle shop owner, found Song Yuanchao sitting outside the corridor of the operating room. Seeing them coming, Song Yuanchao stood up. A leading middle-aged public security officer shook hands with Song Yuanchao with a serious but polite expression. He first thanked him for his life-saving behavior, and then asked him if it would be convenient for him to take a statement.
The occurrence of the car accident and the subsequent situation were very clear. As a rescuer, Song Yuanchao was not responsible at all. On the contrary, he deserved the respect of the police. Moreover, there were very few such things in this era. In addition, the noodle shop owner and the people who came to help proved that this matter was just a formality for Song Yuanchao.
After the statement was taken, the middle-aged policeman told Song Yuanchao that he could leave at any time and thanked him again for his help. Through the conversation with the middle-aged policeman, Song Yuanchao learned that the person he saved today was actually a leader. The person who took the 212 was the deputy director of a bureau in Suzhou and his driver. But think about it, in this era, only leaders can have cars, and ordinary people like Song Yuanchao who drive a Huhai brand car are rare.
It was already evening when they left the hospital. Song Yuanchao looked at the time and thought it was still in time to go back.
After getting into his car, Song Yuanchao lit up a cigarette and took a few puffs before starting the car, turning around and driving back the way he came.
It was already ten o'clock in the evening when Song Yuanchao returned to Shanghai. He was afraid that Zhang's mother would be worried if she saw him, so he tiptoed back home. Before he could take the key to open the door, Luo Yang heard a noise from the third-floor pavilion.
"Old Song, you...what's wrong with you?" In the dim light on the stairs, Luo Yang saw that Song Yuanchao was in a mess. His hair, clothes, and pants were all messy. There were a lot of dried blood on his white shirt. Due to the passage of time, the blood stains had turned brown. Coupled with the sweat, dirt, and oil stains from saving people, Luo Yang was extremely shocked.
"Don't mention it. It was an accident." Song Yuanchao said with a wry smile.
"Accident?"
"Yeah, car accident."
"What? You were in a car accident? Where are you injured? Have you been to the hospital?" After hearing Song Yuanchao's answer, Luo Yang hurried forward to check and reached out to touch Song Yuanchao's body.
"Alright, alright, I'm not a girl, why are you touching me? I said the car accident wasn't mine, I met someone else in the car accident on the way back, and I got all this from saving people, otherwise I wouldn't have come back so late."
"Hey, Old Song, could you please stop breathing so heavily when you speak? You almost scared me to death." Luo Yang finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"Go to bed early. I'll take a shower and rest." Opening the door, Song Yuanchao walked into the room, opened the drawer, took out some clothes to change into, and said to Luo Yang.
"I had already gone to bed, but when I saw that you hadn't come back, weren't I worried about you? Now I can't sleep after hearing the noise. By the way, have you had dinner?" Luo Yang followed in and asked.
When he asked this question, Song Yuanchao realized that he had not eaten anything, let alone a drink of water, since he had eaten the bowl of noodles before the car accident.
"Okay, wait for me for a while. I'll go take a shower first and then take you to eat something delicious." Song Yuanchao said this to Luo Yang with a smile, picked up his clothes and went to the bathroom.
It is very convenient to take a shower in the summer. There is a place for taking a shower in the bathroom of Song Yuanchao's house. Although there is no water heater, you can still take a shower with cold water.
After washing, I changed into clean clothes, rolled up the clothes I took off, and threw them away when I went downstairs.
This set of clothes can no longer be worn, especially the oil and blood stains that cannot be washed off even with a whole bar of soap. Besides, if Zhang's mother sees it, it will make her worry. It is better to just throw it away.
After returning to the room, he greeted Luo Yang, took the keys and the things he wanted to throw away, and took Luo Yang downstairs. When they reached the entrance of the alley, Song Yuanchao threw the clothes into the trash can first, and then continued to walk out with Luo Yang.
"Where are you going? It's already half past ten, and there are still some shops open?" It was already late outside, and there were not many pedestrians on the road. Even the neighbors who had come out to enjoy the cool air after dinner had returned home one after another, and the street seemed very deserted.
"Just follow me." Song Yuanchao said to Luo Yang, and took Luo Yang across the road and walked east. After walking down a street, they arrived at a crossroads. When Song Yuanchao saw a small stall on one side of the intersection, a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.
This is a small stall made of wooden poles, right next to the intersection. In front of the stall there is a small square folding table and a few small benches.
There was a fire on the stall, with strips of firewood burning inside. There was a pot on top, and no one knew what was cooking. The stall owners were a middle-aged couple. The woman was busy on the wooden rack next to the stall, and the man was squatting on the ground watching the fire, while he was holding a thin iron skewer in his hand to fiddle with the flames.
Seeing this stall, Song Yuanchao recalled many past events. This was a stall selling firewood wontons. The couple had been setting up a stall in this place for many years. In his previous life, when Song Yuanchao was working in the engineering team under the Telecommunications Bureau, he would stop here every time he rode his bike home late at night and eat a bowl of firewood wontons.
Chai Pian Wonton has a long history in Shanghai, dating back to the Qing Dynasty.
Lao Jin, a Hong Kong martial arts novelist , once wrote about a martial arts master named He Sanqi in his "Swordsman" who made a living by selling wontons. Perhaps when Lao Jin wrote this character, he was probably thinking back to his past when he was young and working in a newspaper office in Shanghai. It seems that he must have eaten a lot of wood-burning wontons on his way home after working overtime. Otherwise, how could he have created such a character in his novel?
Especially when the weather is cold, a bowl of steaming and fragrant firewood wontons is simply the best enjoyment.
Song Yuanchao didn't know the couple's surnames or names, but they had met in their previous life and were familiar with each other. Every time Song Yuanchao came home late and stopped in front of their stall, the honest stall owner would always ask with a smile, "Same old?"
And Song Yuanchao would answer: "Same old!"
Then we sat down and waited for a bowl of firewood wontons to be served. The wontons made by the stall owner's wife were especially well-made and used plenty of ingredients, especially the base soup made with eel and beef bones, which was extremely delicious. To use Shanghai dialect, it was so delicious that one bite would make your eyebrows fall.
"Sir, would you like some wontons?" When Song Yuanchao and Luo Yang stopped in front of the stall, the stall owner who had just stood up noticed their arrival and asked with a smile in Shanghai dialect.
"Give me two bowls of small wontons." Song Yuanchao blurted out a sentence, and then he remembered that he had not asked Luo Yang for his opinion. He turned around and asked Luo Yang: "Small wontons are okay? Try it, it's a specialty of Shanghai. If you feel hungry, I'll ask the boss to give you a bowl of large wontons later."
"Haha, I don't care. I'm here to accompany you anyway. Big or small is fine." Luo Yang said with a smile.
Seeing that he had no objection, Song Yuanchao turned back and nodded to the stall owner, who smiled and said, "Okay, sir, please sit down for a while, I'll be ready soon."
Sitting on a small stool, Song Yuanchao handed Luo Yang a cigarette. The two of them lit up and watched the stall owner and his wife busy at work in the night.
Song Yuanchao had been eating Chai Pian Wonton here for nearly twenty years, from a young man in his twenties to his forties, and the stall owner and his wife also went from middle-aged to elderly.
Even when Song Yuanchao no longer lived nearby due to alley demolition, when he thought of the taste of Chai Pian Wontons, he would still ride his bike from far away to have a bowl.
Unfortunately, in the late 1990s, as the times changed, cities restricted and managed street vendors, and a profession . In this way, the stall that had been there for nearly 20 years disappeared overnight. When Song Yuanchao came here again to try to find it, he only saw an empty intersection and no longer saw the familiar stall and the stall owner and his wife.
After finishing a cigarette, two bowls of wontons are just right.
The stall owner and his wife each brought a bowl and placed it in front of Song Yuanchao and Luo Yang, and told them with a smile that there were chili peppers, vinegar and pepper powder seasonings on the small table, and they could add them if needed.
After saying thank you, Song Yuanchao, who was already hungry, picked up the spoon and started eating. After taking a bite, the taste deep in his memory and reality instantly overlapped. That's right! It was this taste, the taste that had disappeared but made him miss it so much. Young people in later generations who like to eat hamburgers and steaks don't understand that this taste represents the memory of an era.
Chai Pian Wonton is actually not the name of a kind of wonton, but the traditional name of this kind of small stall and wood-burning stove. The methods and tastes of each Chai Pian Wonton are different, but one thing is certain, that is, the freshness and fragrance of Chai Pian Wonton is something that later chain wonton shops and restaurants can never achieve.
The wontons are wrapped in hand-rolled dough that is as thin as a cicada's wing. After cooking, it becomes translucent and you can almost see the meat filling inside. The meat filling is made of top-quality pork, and fresh shrimp is chopped and mixed with the pork.
In addition, the thick white soup base and the chopped green onions, dried shrimps, seaweed, and mustard froth sprinkled on top were mixed together and tasted extremely delicious like a chemical reaction. Song Yuanchao ate it very happily, one bite at a time, and finished the whole bowl in a blink of an eye. He wiped his mouth with a feeling of unsatisfaction, glanced at Luo Yang who was also about to finish his meal, and asked with a smile: "How does it taste?"
"It tastes good, but it's a little less." Luo Yang was also eating with a smile on his face, but as a northerner, this bowl of wontons was indeed a little less for him.
"Another bowl?" Song Yuanchao asked with a smile.
"Another bowl!" Luo Yang nodded.
Song Yuanchao turned around and greeted the stall owner, who responded with a smile and started to work again. By the time the stall owner's second bowl of wontons came, Luo Yang had already drunk up all the soup.
