Sugar Bean Pods

Sugar Bean Pods

　　The renowned local specialty "Sugar Bean Pods" from Hongzhiyi originated in the Qin Dynasty as a folk food item, with a history of nearly 2000 years.

　　When people from Hedong visit relatives or friends, they often like to give "Sugar Bean Pods" from Hongzhiyi Town in Yanhu District — a historic delicacy — as a gift. This is not only because of its exquisite craftsmanship and sweet, crispy taste, but more importantly, its origin is tied to a tragic and heroic story.

　　A long, long time ago, at the foot of Emei Ridge and by the banks of the Sushui River, there lived a young couple. The man was named Hongsheng and his wife was called Lingzhi. The couple were kind-hearted and treated others with sincerity. They built a road and opened a small shop, which did very brisk business. The pastries they produced, especially the "Sugar Bean Pods," were absolutely exquisite — shaped like bean pods, wax-yellow and translucent. When you bit through the crust, sweet syrup would flow into your mouth, and eating just one would sweeten your entire being. Not to mention passing travelers who would stop for a meal and always buy a jin to savor carefully, even local villagers would make a special trip to the shop to buy a jin during festivals or when visiting family and friends, to give as a gift.

　　One year, when the emperor was traveling from Beijing to Chang’an and passed through this area, the local officials hurriedly went to receive him and, as was customary, presented the local specialty "Sugar Bean Pods." The emperor took one bite and greatly praised them, insisting that Hongsheng accompany him to the palace to exclusively make "Sugar Bean Pods." Hongsheng hastily replied: "Your Majesty, the water used to make 'Sugar Bean Pods' is collected by my wife and me personally whenever it rains. We catch it in basins, then bury it underground until the groundwater vapor combines with the rainwater through the walls of the jar before we can use it. Aside from the local water and soil, no matter how much honey we add, we simply cannot produce something so exquisite. If Your Majesty wishes to eat them, we could offer an annual tribute as prescribed. I hope Your Majesty will give this careful consideration." But the emperor would not agree. Knowing that if he went to the palace and failed to recreate the "Sugar Bean Pods," he would surely be put to death, Hongsheng tearfully bade farewell to Lingzhi: "After I leave, keep a close watch on the green grass in our backyard. If it turns red, something terrible will have happened to me. You must immediately ride our white horse to the capital to retrieve my body." With that, the two embraced and wept bitterly.

　　One day, suddenly, the white horse in the backyard began to neigh uncontrollably, jumping and struggling until it broke the reins, ran to the front yard, and began kicking and biting, scaring the servants into fleeing in panic. Lingzhi then noticed that the horse had a handful of green grass in its mouth, which had turned dark red. She hurried to the backyard and saw that all the green grass had turned dark red. Realizing that something terrible had indeed happened, she quickly mounted the white horse and galloped toward the capital.

　　Lingzhi rode the white horse day and night, finally arriving at the capital. She saw notices posted all over the streets and alleys — it turned out that after Hongsheng arrived at the palace, despite trying everything, he still couldn’t recreate the original "Sugar Bean Pods." The ones he made looked similar at first glance, but upon closer inspection, the bean pods were merely wax-yellow and not translucent. When you bit into them, the crust was hollow, with no syrup inside at all. The emperor was furious and sentenced him to death for deceiving the imperial court, with the execution set for noon that very day. Seeing that the hour was near, Lingzhi hurriedly spurred her horse straight to the execution ground. She was one step too late — the couple had already been separated by death, and only Hongsheng’s body lay exposed in the wilderness. Though his head had been severed from his body, not a single drop of blood had flowed. Lingzhi was heartbroken beyond words. She lifted his body onto the horse and set off to return to their hometown.

　　After traveling thousands of miles to bring back her husband’s body, Lingzhi’s white horse, having run nonstop for a thousand miles, foamed at the mouth upon arriving home and immediately dropped dead. Looking at her husband, who would never return to life, Lingzhi couldn’t help but burst into loud wails. With her first cry, the sky darkened; with her second, lightning flashed and thunder roared; with her third, the earth split apart. At that moment, the front and back yards of their little shop turned into a deep pool. Hongsheng’s blood, gushing from his neck, poured into the pool — this later became known as the "Hong Pond."

　　At this moment, Lingzhi let out a scream: "Honglang, I’m coming with you!" and threw herself into the pool. As time passed, a type of dark red tender grass grew around the pool. People said it was the incarnation of Lingzhi and called it "Zhi Grass." Strangely enough, no matter how sick a horse or mule was, as long as it drank the water from Hong Pond and ate the Zhi Grass by the pond, it would immediately recover as if resurrected — even more effectively than the Lingzhi herb itself. People said this was because Hongsheng and Lingzhi hadn’t forgotten the white horse’s contribution, and thus saved the sick horses. After Hongsheng and Lingzhi died, in order to prevent their exquisite craft of making "Sugar Bean Pods" from being lost, people tried making them using the water from Hong Pond — and sure enough, the resulting pastry had a wax-yellow, translucent crust, and when you bit into it, the syrup would flow out generously. There was no longer any need to catch rainwater or bury jars to mix the water. From then on, "Sugar Bean Pods" became a famous local specialty.