Day Sixty-Two: The Attempt, Part Two — a bonus update for Blade Song ~ Fallen Leaves

This method was not simple either, but it suited the present better than the earlier idea of drying it in sunlight.

When the weather is fine, I have many other things to do. On a rainy day like this, though, spending time by doing work is the best way to pass it.

And it was precisely because this could be done on such long, wet, overcast days that the plan finally won my favor.

First I washed about five jin of arrowroot. By my estimate, this huge basket of arrowroot was at most fifteen to twenty jin in all, so there was not really all that much of it.

Five jin would be enough for this attempt. After washing them clean, peeling each one, and trimming away the roots, I filled another basin with water and rinsed them all once more.

There was not much water left in the bucket. I had not drawn any for several days, and now there was less than half a bucket remaining. If it were only for drinking and cooking, it would still last me several days.

But this method needed another basin of water. After scooping out this basinful, there should still be enough in the bucket for another three days. That was fine, of course. If it came to it, I could even collect a little rainwater; as long as it was boiled, it would do no harm.

No matter. There was no need to think so much about it. If this still failed, I would rather go up to the upper level of the tree house, drink honey lemonade, watch the rain, breathe some fresh air, and spend this damned rainy day in lazy comfort.

...

This method had not come to me on a whim, either. I had once watched a documentary about sweet potatoes. It was mainly about sweet potatoes, all the dishes they could be made into, and every kind of processing method. There was also a segment on a primitive way of making starch in the mountains, and I had found it fascinating, so I watched carefully.

Unexpectedly, knowledge gained in such an incidental way could also give me inspiration. That was something I had never thought of before.

Following the steps I could still remember from memory, I began.

After slicing the washed arrowroot into pieces, I stacked several slices together and cut them into fine shreds. This was not only a technical task, but also a test of endurance.

I had already been cutting for several hours, yet this five jin of arrowroot was still not finished. There should only be about a tenth left, roughly half a jin.

My arms were already numb with ache. If I had been chopping it into paste, it might have been easier, but I was cutting it, and both hands had to work together the whole time or it could not be done. My back, bent over for so long, was also nearing its limit, but I kept at it.

Not for any grand reason. I simply wanted to see my own success, to prove my idea right. Though I did not have complete confidence, I still chose to believe in myself.

Finally, after cutting for more than another thirty minutes, I completed the shredding. The things that had once looked like little bamboo shoots were now all cut into fine threads. My technique was not exactly masterful; the shreds were uneven in length and thickness, but I was already very satisfied.

I soaked all these arrowroot shreds in a basin of water and stirred them with chopsticks, letting them contact the water in the basin as fully as possible. After one turn and another, the shreds that had been sticking together were basically all separated.

To make sure every side and every part touched the water thoroughly, I kept stirring without stopping.

Only when the water in the basin had turned the color of rice broth did I finally stop.

Seeing the water change color eased the fear that had been hanging over my heart. It seemed that everything was still moving according to plan, with no mishaps so far.

I let out a long breath. After several deep breaths, my back and hands were aching terribly; I really did need a rest.

Lunch had been handled during the break as well. Nothing unusual there: just three juicy fruits each for me and Little Black. I could not eat any more than that; I was sick of it. Though I truly did not feel like eating them, my back and waist were aching too much for me to spend extra time preparing ingredients. Once the work was done, my mood would improve. If it succeeded, I could reward both myself and Little Black tonight.

After lunch I did feel a little sleepy, but if I did not finish this, I kept feeling as though something was weighing on my mind. I knew my own temperament very well: once something was on my mind, I could hardly sleep. Rather than lying there tossing and turning, it was better to finish it outright and then rest.

I fished all the arrowroot shreds out of the water. When I lifted them, I used chopsticks, letting the water drip off as much as possible each time. Next, the arrowroot that had already been cut into thin strips was cut again. One strip was divided into several segments, and after I finished them all, I poured everything back into the basin.

The same as before, I kept stirring, letting them have intimate contact with the water in the basin.

Ten minutes later, it was finally done. Only the last step remained: to use chopsticks to pick out all these tiny strips of arrowroot. With eyesight, endurance, and strength all combined, I managed it.

By now the water had become even whiter, and sediment had begun to form. After I spun the chopsticks swiftly in the basin a few times, the water inside started rotating in the same direction. After a few turns, I lifted the chopsticks and looked down. At the bottom of the swirling water, a white, fluffy-looking sediment had begun to gather and sink toward the center.

“It should still need some time,” I judged.

Now I still had to deal with the large heap of tiny arrowroot strips I had fished out. They were all food, after all, and absolutely could not be wasted.

As for how to handle them, I had already decided long ago.

Boil them.

What was most distinctive about arrowroot was that it was almost made of starch. If you had ever eaten it, you would know that you could hardly taste anything else. It was nothing more than a mass of starch, which was why I had tried to make arrowroot flour by traditional methods.

Once it had come to a boil, the pot of boiled arrowroot actually looked rather good. The broth was even somewhat thick. With a light press of the spoon, all those tiny arrowroot strips turned into powder.

After I had pressed through the whole pot with the spoon, the entire contents changed completely. Hmm, it looked a bit like water chestnut starch paste, and also somewhat like white sesame porridge...

It was definitely not pretty, and even a little hard on the stomach to look at. I tasted it, and though it was not especially delicious, I could still accept it.

But after adding a little salt and mixing in some lard, the whole flavor changed beyond recognition...

Those two gleaming-empty basins were mine and Little Black’s. It was truly delicious, especially the crisp, scorched-rice-like bits around the edges. They were crunchy, yet once in the mouth they quickly melted away again, much like the seaweed I had eaten before.

I checked the basin of water, and the sediment had settled nicely. I began using the spoon to scoop off the clear water from the top, one spoonful at a time, until I had drawn it down to just above the sediment. Once that was done, my only task was to wait.

After I covered the basin with a lid, today’s work was finally complete. I needed to wait for the remaining water in the basin to dry up. Once the water evaporated, the starch that had settled inside should solidify. Then I could remove those hardened masses, crush them apart, and use them as arrowroot flour.

Of course, I still remembered that in the program, they had also crushed those solidified masses and sieved them once more at the end. But I had no tools for sieving, and there was no real need. Roughly good enough would do...

...

That night, the wind woke me several times again...

Could it be that another strong wind was coming?

God, I was so sleepy...

Half-conscious, I drifted off again...