Chapter 828: Chapter 827: This is a 10,000-word long chapter!!! Chapter 828: Chapter 827: This is a 10,000-word long chapter!!! After returning home, Jiang Feng found Wu Minqi lying on the sofa in her pajamas, applying a face mask while listening to music, with the TV playing the last week’s episode of Good Taste’s American version of the Culinary King Competition. She was taking care of her skin but didn’t forget to keep up with her competitors, which was truly touching.
Jiang Feng glanced at the TV, which showed a rather handsome guy squeezing cream on pancakes. Unfortunately, he hadn’t seen this guy at the rehearsal this afternoon; obviously, he had been eliminated.
“Fengfeng, why are you back already? Have you eaten?” Wu Minqi asked, her lips pursed as she reached for the cell phone on the coffee table to check the time.
A gasp, a carp flipped over, and a face mask hastily torn off.
“I forgot to set the alarm, I over-masked by two minutes.”
Jiang Feng: ?
Although he didn’t understand how over-masking by two minutes could be a problem, he could tell that now was not the right time to discuss with Wu Minqi the feasibility of adapting the thickening technique from Eight Treasures Chestnut Fragrant Pigeon to Jiang’s Sea Cucumber Soup, a topic they had been discussing for several days.
After Wu Minqi had washed her face and completed the skincare steps that Jiang Feng didn’t quite understand, she came out of the bathroom and repeated her earlier question.
“Not yet. Master Qin hasn’t fully recovered yet and needs to eat according to the doctor’s advice, so I didn’t eat at Yonghe House. I was planning to buy a pancake at the entrance of the neighborhood when I got back, but the couple hadn’t set up their stall today,” said Jiang Feng, settling onto the sofa, not wanting to get up. “I’ll just cook some noodles for myself later.”
Wu Minqi nodded and yawned, “I don’t know why, but I felt so sleepy when I got back today. The rehearsal wasn’t much; they just had us walk across the stage a few times. Ah, so exhausting, I need to go to sleep in a bit.”
“By the way, you didn’t finish the sea cucumber soup this afternoon, so Mr. Jiang put it in the fridge for you. Also, Sun Jikai probably won’t be able to come to the shop tomorrow; his dad is coming.”
“Mr. Sun is coming?” If Wu Minqi hadn’t mentioned it, Jiang Feng might have almost forgotten about Sun Changping altogether.
“He arrived late today, and Sun Jikai has rented the one-bedroom on the first floor, which comes with a small yard. He said if his dad really can’t find anything to do, he might just garden at home,” said Wu Minqi.
Jiang Feng recalled the small yard on the first floor, which was only a few square meters, and thought that if Sun Changping really wanted to garden, he could probably only manage to plant a couple of cabbages.
“Does Mr. Sun have any plans?” Jiang Feng asked.
“I don’t know; I didn’t ask,” Wu Minqi yawned again and squinted, clearly very sleepy. “I can’t handle it anymore, I really need to sleep. Fengfeng, remember to cook the noodles later.”
With that, she rubbed her eyes and walked back to her room with a stagger so tired and dazed.
Deprived of the chance to chat with his girlfriend, Jiang Feng slouched on the sofa and found the TV show uninteresting: a food program featuring Michelin-starred chefs competing as contestants, and nobody even said “shit” — what was the point of the show then?
No wonder American viewers slammed the U.S. version with negative reviews; how could fans accustomed to Chef Arno tolerate these chefs who lacked culinary finesse and couldn’t even curse properly?
Jiang Feng listlessly played with his phone for a while, finding it boring as well. Wang Hao hadn’t posted on social media for three days already, apparently life had smoothed out his quirky edges. He occasionally posted, but only soulless statuses mandated by his company. Now successful, he didn’t need to find inspiration working weekends at Taifeng Building anymore; he had paid off all his dad’s debts, his hair was thinning, his belly growing – he really looked the part of a successful man.
Jiang Feng sent Wang Hao a message, but Wang Hao didn’t reply instantly, which made Jiang Feng sadly ponder whether he had truly lost this wayward friend.
Jiang Feng lay down on the sofa.
Jiang Feng turned over.
Jiang Feng turned over again.
So boring.
The TV wasn’t interesting, the phone wasn’t fun, there was no one to talk to, he didn’t have enough ingredients in the kitchen to cook, he had watched all cooking videos countless times, and the backtracking function CD cooling period hadn’t ended yet.
So boring!
Finally, Jiang Feng opened the property panel and scrolled to the item bar to study the only two memories he hadn’t yet looked at.
[A memory of Ouyang Yang]
[A memory of Han Guishan]
Jiang Feng already had a decision in mind about these two memories. He reached out to click on “A memory of Han Guishan” and confirmed his choice.
A sea of fog.
The memory of Han Guishan always seemed to be filled with a strong sense of the era. The last time Jiang Feng entered Han Guishan’s memory, he saw the train station in Shu province in 1987 and also encountered Jiang Weiming and Wang Jing from 1987.
This time, he saw Han Guishan and Wang Jing from 1990.
As soon as the fog cleared, Jiang Feng saw Han Guishan dragging a huge sack and holding an old, wrinkled newspaper. Beside him was Wang Jing, also dragging a slightly smaller sack and carrying a large backpack, her skin darkened and roughened by the sun, losing the fair and beautiful appearance she once had as a waitress at a state-owned restaurant.
“Han, weren’t we supposed to go to your place? Why did we get off here?” It was midsummer, the sun blazing overhead. Wang Jing, burdened with so much, was already sweating profusely, her relatively new cotton white shirt almost soaked with sweat.
“Getting to my place still requires a half-day’s ride, and after getting off the train, we’d still need to transfer to a shuttle bus. We can catch a shuttle bus from here as well; it just takes a bit longer. Let’s have a meal here and rest in an inn for a day. We’ve been on the train for two days. If we keep going, we’ll break down,” said Han Guishan, looking at his newspaper from left to right, unclear about what he was searching for.
Wang Jing wiped the sweat from her forehead and was somewhat speechless, not knowing whether to laugh or to get angry, “What’s the big deal about spending two days on a train? A couple of years ago, we spent two days on a donkey cart transporting goods. You drag all this stuff around and don’t you find it too tiring?”
“What are you looking at? I’m not even hungry now; the steamed bun I gnawed on this morning was too hard and it feels like it hasn’t digested yet. It’s too hot. Let’s first find a place to rest our feet and have a drink,” Wang Jing continuously fanned herself with her hand, but the weak breeze was futile. Beads of sweat still streamed down her cheeks like water.
“It’s really too hot, I thought my home was already hot enough, but it turns out your place is even hotter.”
Han Guishan was actually not much better off, his clothes already soaked with sweat, but since he didn’t sweat as profusely as Wang Jing on his face, it didn’t look as extreme.
Realizing that their immediate priority was to find a place to drink some tea and rest their feet, Han Guishan finally gave up studying that newspaper from May 29, 1990, and led Wang Jing to a small teahouse to drink some herbal tea and cool down.
After downing two doses of herbal tea, Wang Jing finally felt a bit relieved.
The teahouse was very simple, lacking air conditioning and even a fan. It was only because the owner saw Wang Jing and Han Guishan with their heavy loads and sweaty, dusty appearances that he gave each of them a large fan to wave for themselves.
Wang Jing sat in a chair frenetically waving her fan, while Han Guishan helped fan her from the side. The scene looked somewhat heart-wrenching yet oddly inspiring.
“Where are we going now? Should we find a nearby inn to settle down first?” Han Guishan knew this place well, but Wang Jing had never been here and didn’t know it at all, so she had to listen to whatever Han Guishan said.
“We won’t stay here. Tonight, we’ll go stay in the county town. The city doesn’t have a shuttle going to my area, but the county town does,” said Han Guishan, going back to studying his newspaper.
This piqued Jiang Feng’s interest in the newspaper in Han Guishan’s hands; he leaned in to take a closer look.
The newspaper’s layout was packed, segmented into blocks, each day’s stories confined to a space as small as a block of tofu. The tiny black lead print all squeezed together was headache-inducing to read, and even Jiang Feng found it somewhat painful, not to mention Han Guishan, who wasn’t particularly literate, for whom it was a real torment, more so than the scorching sun above.
Soon, Jiang Feng found the article that Han Guishan had been studying over and over. It was in a very small section in the corner, calling it a tofu block was an overstatement. The writing wasn’t beautiful and read like a primary school student’s account of events, discussing very simple things.
It essentially spoke of how a certain county town had prospered under the winds of reform, with many traveling businesspeople passing through this county, truck drivers also choosing to stop there, resulting in the opening of many restaurants, one of which on a certain street was particularly busy, often having long queues.
Just that much content, dry, wouldn’t even make UC Shock Department bother with a headline for such a report; no wonder it was relegated to such a small space.
Yet it was this tiny section that Han Guishan stared at and studied for more than ten minutes, and he looked ready to continue studying it for another ten minutes.
What’s there to see, you could copy the article in ten minutes.
“What are you looking at? Ever since we were on the train, I’ve seen you staring at this newspaper for two days. Haven’t you finished reading it yet? What’s so interesting about it?” Wang Jing was also puzzled.
Han Guishan handed out the newspaper, pointing to a character in the third-to-last line of the section, “Jing, how do you read this character?”
Wang Jing looked at it for a while, thought about it, and said, “It’s ‘qiu’ (second tone), I guess.”
Wang Jing briefly scanned the paper and showed a puzzled expression just like Jiang Feng’s, “Why are you looking at this? What’s so interesting about it? I thought you had been studying some shop information ads for the past two days since you said we should buy a shop and settle down to do business. It feels like we can’t make much money running around everywhere these days; they’re fixing roads and even people from the villages can go out, they aren’t rarefied by our specifically delivered goods.”
“I don’t plan to buy here in Shenzhen; it’s too expensive. If we buy here, we’d have to invest all our savings from these past few years, and if we lose, we’d lose everything,” Han Guishan put away the newspaper.
Wang Jing gestured for the boss to bring another pot of herbal tea, “Not buying here? But isn’t it tough to do business here as well? Everyone is doing business in this area, if we don’t buy here, where will we go? Are you thinking of buying back in my hometown? Actually, business isn’t good back in the provincial city either. Do you remember that state-owned restaurant I worked at a few years ago? Master Jiang retired and went back to the countryside, and now the business there is even less prosperous. Just over the new year my mom was telling me how lucky I was I quit my job to run a business with you, the other two waitresses haven’t been paid for half a year.”
Wang Jing asked so many questions at once that Han Guishan didn’t know where to start, so he picked what he remembered to respond, “I was actually planning to discuss this with you in a couple of days. I think buying a shop either in Alan City or directly in Beiping is a good choice. Beiping is the capital, and opportunities there are no less than Shenzhen. Alan City has developed really well these past two years, and I’ve heard that a batch of well-located shops will be up for sale soon.”
“I think Alan City is pretty good,” Wang Jing gave Alan City a thumbs up and finished the tea the boss had just brought to the table with deliberate vigor that seemed quite heroic, “I feel much better now, is this place far from that county town you mentioned? Let’s get going and not waste any more time.”
“This bag is full of the cured meat my mom made; if we delay too long, it’ll spoil by the time we get to your place.”
Han Guishan stood up to pay and tried to help Wang Jing with his sack but was refused.
“Why did you bring so much cured meat from so far away?”
“Look at what you’re saying, as if cured meat is worthless. A few years back, cured meat was a rarity only available during the New Year, you know? You’ve been doing business in my area all these years, you’ve gotten to know all my relatives there, but I’ve never even met your relatives here. I’ve only ever heard you mention your brother and sister, I don’t even know what they like.” Wang Jing stubbornly dragged the sack outside, and began to sweat profusely.
“Your family is in Shenzhen; surely they’ve seen all sorts of rare things. Too rare, and I can’t afford it, so I can only bring some local specialties.” Wang Jing said, patting his backpack proudly, “Do you know what’s in here? It’s all kimchi! And one jar is made by Master Jiang himself, I got it from his apprentice!”
Upon hearing the kimchi was made by Jiang Weiming, Han Guishan’s eyes lit up. Before he could speak, Wang Jing cut him off with her next sentence, “Don’t even think about it, this is for your brothers and sisters.”
Han Guishan: ……
The bus station was a bit far from the teahouse; Han Guishan called for three rickshaws, two for the people and one for the goods, pedaling for almost 30 minutes before reaching the bus station.
This bus station didn’t look any different from the one Jiang Feng saw in his childhood in Z city, boarding the bus, buying tickets, no fixed departure times, the bus leaves when it’s full, and there were vendors in the station carrying bags selling corn and tea eggs. Wang Jing, either because she was peckish or for some other reason, bought two tea eggs and after boarding, she and Han Guishan happily peeled the tea eggs, inciting envious looks from a child seated in front of them, perpetually staring at the eggs in her hands longingly.
Wang Jing ruthlessly finished the tea eggs in front of the child, bite by bite.
“Mom, I want to eat an egg too,” the child whispered to his mother nearby, expressing his inner desire.
“The bus has already left, we can’t buy an egg now,” the child’s mother said with a relieved smile on her face.
The condition on the bus was not too good; old minibuses are always like this, appearing rickety on the outside and just as rickety inside, making those seated in the back bounce around like sitting on a trampoline, risking hitting their heads or hands if not careful.
Like Wang Jing and Han Guishan, there were several others on the bus with a lot of belongings, all tanned, clearly seasoned old business people who had been tempered by many experiences. Among them was a fat Black lady, presumably in the restaurant business, carrying a sack filled with seasoning and various spices, releasing such an aromatic scent that it made everyone crave tea eggs.
After a bumpy three hours, they arrived at the county town. After disembarking, Han Guishan stopped the fat Black lady, pulled out the newspaper, and asked, “Sister, do you know the name of the restaurant on Rainbow Bridge Road that’s written about here?”
The trickiest part of this report was that it never mentioned the restaurant’s name.
Han Guishan’s greeting made the lady bloom with joy, grinning as she squinted at the newspaper for a good few seconds before realizing she couldn’t read and loudly saying, “I can’t read and don’t understand what’s written, but over by Rainbow Bridge Road near the highway, there are all restaurants. If you’re looking for something really tasty, it should be the shop next door that used to have a sign but took it down. They seemed to be moving, they took down their sign a couple of days ago.”
“Thanks a lot, Sister.”
“You’re welcome, if their shop is closed, you can go to the noodle shop next door. It’s cheap and delicious. That restaurant is too expensive, only business owners go there, it’s not worth it,” the lady advised.
Wang Jing bought a corn cob while Han Guishan was asking for directions. She was munching it, “creak, creak.” When Han returned after asking, she handed the cob to him.
“It’s not sweet; it tastes rather bland.” That was Wang Jing’s opinion.
Han Guishan, not minding, took the corn and continued to eat. “Yeah, it really doesn’t have much flavor.”
“Where are we heading now?”
“There are quite a few lodges around here. Let’s find a clean one to drop our things. Afterwards, we can take a shower, change clothes, and then go out for dinner,” said Han Guishan.
Wang Jing had heard the whole conversation Han had with the old lady. As they walked out to find a lodge, she complained, “Why do I feel like you insisted on taking a bus to this town just to eat at that restaurant? Is the food really that good there? Is it as good as Master Jiang’s cooking?”
“I don’t know,” Han Guishan shook his head. “That restaurant is indeed famous. It’s been mentioned in the newspapers and I’ve heard quite a few people talking about it. Do you remember Mr. Yang we met last time we were buying supplies? Mr. Yang mentioned this restaurant to me.”
“Right, what would you like to have for dinner?”
Wang Jing thought for a moment. “I’m not sure what the local cuisine here is like; I hear it’s quite light. If there’s seafood, then let’s have seafood. It would be a shame not to try it since we’re near the sea.”
“We’re actually not right on the coast, but it’s fairly close.”
As they chatted, they found a small and somewhat shabby but seemingly clean lodge nearby. They checked into two rooms, which were rather expensive, nearly twice the cost of the neighboring lodge. It was during the check-in that Jiang Feng found out Han Guishan and Wang Jing weren’t married yet. Their conversations along the way had an old married couple’s vibe, with Wang Jing calling Han “old Han,” and Jiang had thought they had been married for years. It turned out they were still dating.
The room was small, just big enough for a bed and didn’t even have a closet, but it did have a bathroom with a shower. After settling his things, Han bought two flasks of hot water. He delivered one to Wang Jing’s room before returning to his room to quickly wash with the hot water and change his clothes. He was very casual about it.
After changing and feeling refreshed, Han started organizing his belongings and opened the large sack he had been dragging along.
Jiang Feng had always been curious about what was inside Han Guishan’s large sack. Initially thinking Han and Wang Jing were here to sell goods, he realized from their earlier conversation that Han was actually here to visit relatives.
Wang Jing’s sack contained local products for Han Guishan’s relatives, while Han’s sack surprisingly contained entirely clothes.
New clothes, all types: plain colors like white, black, and grey, as well as rarer colors like purple and green. There were shirts, pants, skirts, and even hats and belts. The only commonality was that they were all of cheap quality, evident without even touching them.
Among the clothes, there were also some handmade cloth shoes, no leather shoes.
Hidden inside the shoes was money.
Each shoe hid money, sewn in with needle and thread. One wouldn’t guess there was a pack of bills under the insole unless it was removed.
A lot of money, bundled up. Han only took out the money from one shoe, and Jiang estimated it was about 1000 just from that pack. If all the shoes held the same amount, there had to be at least 10 to 20 thousand in cash in the sack. Even in the 90s, when becoming a millionaire wasn’t as rare as in the 70s and 80s, this was still a significant amount of money. It was surprising how boldly Han stored the money in the sack, unafraid of theft or robbery.
Perhaps that was Han Guishan’s strategy. A sack full of inexpensive clothes and shoes was heavy and unwieldy, likely deterring any potential thieves.
Han counted a few bills, around two or three hundred, and stuffed the rest back into the shoe, sewing it up with a needle and thread he procured from somewhere, his movements practiced, clearly not his first time.
He stuffed the largest bills into his trouser pockets and the smaller paper bills and coins into his jacket pocket. The sack lay openly on the floor of the room.
After everything was in order, Han went out to knock on Wang Jing’s next door.
Wang Jing was not only freshly showered but had also washed her hair, now changed into a somewhat brighter and clean set of clothes, her damp hair draped over her shoulders.
“Let’s go, time to eat.”
“Wait, let me dry my hair a bit more. It’s too wet, and it won’t dry well once we go out,” Wang Jing said, grabbing a dry towel to dab at her hair a bit longer, then followed Han out. Before leaving, she made sure to check if Han’s door was securely shut.
“Are we okay just going out like this? Thieves are so brazen now, they even dare to pry doors and steal stuff. Have you forgotten the last time I went to pick up the goods and stayed at a motel, and all my things were stolen? I suspect it was an inside job,” Wang Jing clearly knew what Han Guishan had in his sack.
“Don’t worry, the motel’s owner is well-connected, common thieves wouldn’t dare touch it.”
The advantages of being a local familiar with the ways were evidently showing now.
Han Guishan and Wang Jing walked downstairs side by side, with Wang Jing rambling on about wanting to eat seafood like fish and shrimp, though she couldn’t name any specific species.
Jiang Feng followed behind, just in time to hear the receptionist cracking sunflower seeds behind the counter and muttering softly.
“Still saying they’re not a couple.”
The small town was bustling at night.
As Han Guishan had mentioned, this town, due to its prime location and being a travel hub, attracted many out-of-towners and truck drivers, making it especially lively at night. This was especially true along Rainbow Bridge Road, where all the restaurants and motels were located, along with numerous vendors pushing carts selling cold dishes, braised foods, and snacks, resembling a night market street.
Drivers typically slept in their vehicles to save money, leaving the motels for the business travelers.
The motels were small, and so were the diners, usually run by a family, with the enthusiastic proprietress standing at the door soliciting customers, repeatedly asking passersby if they wanted to eat. The street was filled with the aroma of food, tempting even those who had no plans to dine out to perhaps step into a diner and order a dish or two to try.
This long alley was truly filled with a dining atmosphere.
With so many eateries around, the restaurant Han Guishan was looking for wasn’t easy to find.
Too many establishments lacked a sign.
Perhaps out of busyness or carelessness, many diners had no signs, just a small front with a couple of tables inside and outside, and a couple busy running the place, sometimes with a few children doing homework at the tables outside.
With no sign, next to a noodle house, this description was far too broad. Han Guishan and Wang Jing walked past several places that met these criteria but none seemed right.
Mainly because the decor didn’t match.
By the time they had nearly reached the end of the street, they still hadn’t found the restaurant Han Guishan was looking for, and Wang Jing was thinking about just settling for any place to dine.
She hadn’t eaten lunch and had only nibbled on half a corn cob and a tea egg all day; she was terribly hungry now. Smelling the fragrant dishes all along the way, she just wanted to sit down in any small eatery and have something casual, even just a bowl of plain noodles would do.
“Han, let’s just eat something casual, really, we don’t need to specifically have seafood. Even a bowl of noodles would be fine,” Wang Jing pointed to a noodle house in front of them, “Why don’t we just eat here?”
Next to the noodle house was a large, unmarked restaurant, larger than about 80% of the establishments on this street. There were no tables outside, and the door was half-open without lights on.
It was already quite dark outside, and the restaurant, without its lights on and apparently having no customers inside, didn’t look like it was even open for business.
“Jing, do you think this restaurant looks like it?” Han Guishan pointed at the unlit, unnamed restaurant.
Wang Jing studied the outer decor and the part of the interior furnishings she could see, then nodded, “It looks quite likely, the decor is quite elaborate, it won’t be cheap, but this place doesn’t seem open, there’s nobody inside.”
“There should be someone, the door isn’t closed,” Han Guishan wasn’t giving up, “You wait here; I’ll have a look inside.”
After saying that, Han Guishan walked into the restaurant. Wang Jing waited outside, and Jiang Feng followed him in.
The restaurant actually had lights on, just in the kitchen at the very back, so the light hadn’t reached outside.
It was indeed empty; the large restaurant had only four sets of tables and chairs, clearly some tables and chairs had been removed. The walls were bare, without any decorations, and Jiang Feng could tell from the paint that there used to be paintings on the walls, and there were likely also potted plants on the windowsill previously.
This store must be transferred out, as the owner had already started clearing things.
“Is anyone here?” Han Guishan shouted loudly.
“Who is it?”
The reply came from a woman’s voice, but the person who emerged from the kitchen was a man—Jiang Feng knew him.
Zhang Chu.
This was the restaurant where Cao Guixiang had worked back in the day!
If Jiang Feng had heard the conversation between Han Guishan and Xu Cheng during the last test, he could have guessed that this memory of Han Guishan’s was definitely about Cao Guixiang. But he hadn’t heard it, and he was ecstatic when he saw Zhang Chu coming out of the kitchen yesterday. Without thinking, he rushed through the wall and into the kitchen.
Cao Guixiang was cooking in the kitchen.
From the rich aroma of the broth in the kitchen, Jiang Feng could tell that Cao Guixiang was definitely making delicious dishes.
In addition to Cao Guixiang, there were two children and a chubby middle-aged man in the kitchen; unsurprisingly, these two children were Zhang Chiyuan and Zhang Siyu. By this time, Zhang Chiyuan had already grown into a young teenager old enough to be in junior high school, while Zhang Siyu was still a little creature, her cheeks plump and clearly well-nourished.
Junior high is a critical period for children’s education; no wonder Cao Guixiang was anxious to move into the city to change school for Zhang Chiyuan.
The other chubby middle-aged man was, obviously, Cao Guixiang’s boss.
“Guixiang, with your excellent culinary skills, have you really considered not continuing in this field after moving to the city? If you don’t want to work for someone else, you could open your own restaurant. If money is an issue, I could lend you some. Isn’t it popular to take on investors nowadays? I could simply be a shareholder, and continue to pay for meals,” the boss persuaded earnestly.
Jiang Feng: ??
“There was this operation too.”
“Mr. Shi, I really do not plan to continue in this field anymore. Look, both my children are so grown now, and Siyu is about to start elementary school. I want to spend more time with my children.”
“Think it over again.” Mr. Shi was obviously not new to persuading, nor was it his first time hearing this response.
Cao Guixiang smiled but didn’t speak, moving over to another pot to lift the lid for a check. Inside was a simmering braised shark’s fin, where it seemed the collagen within the fins had totally melded into the soup, the fins distinct and plumply golden, clearly of excellent quality.
After a quick glance, Cao Guixiang replaced the lid and walked over to the chopping board to start working on a duck, asking while she worked, “Mr. Shi, what would you like to eat with this duck?”
“You decide what to make, whatever you feel like cooking,” Mr. Shi responded quite proficiently.
“Little Yuan, what would you like to eat?” Cao Guixiang then asked her son.
“Beer duck!” Zhang Chiyuan replied loudly.
“Mom, I want roast duck!” Zhang Siyu said in an even louder voice.
“Roast duck sounds good, roast duck sounds good,” Mr. Shi nodded repeatedly.
“This duck is not fat enough for roast duck; let me think…” Just as Cao Guixiang was pondering which dish to use the duck for, Zhang Chu came in from outside.
“Mr. Shi, a customer from out of town who read about us in the newspaper wants to eat here,” Zhang Chu said.
“Didn’t you tell him that our restaurant is closing down and we are not operational now?” Mr. Shi asked, puzzled.
Zhang Chu reluctantly raised the blue hundred-yuan bill in his hand, not new, but shimmering under the light with a total of three, particularly striking.
“I told them, but the customer outside said he wasn’t picky about the dish, anything would do, and he directly handed over the money.”
Mr. Shi was also stunned. He had not been running the restaurant for long and had seen many wealthy customers, but this was the first time he encountered such a situation.
“Why though?” Mr. Shi felt that even with so much money, it shouldn’t be like this. Three hundred yuan was enough to order everything on their menu.
Keep in mind, their menu included delicacies like shark fins, bird’s nests, sea cucumbers, and abalones.
“The customer had only one request. He seemed to want to propose today and wanted Guixiang to embed the ring in the dish so his fiancée could discover it while eating,”
Mr. Shi was shocked again. He had never imagined such a tactic and could only turn to Cao Guixiang with a pleading look, as if she were the real boss of the restaurant.
Cao Guixiang said helplessly, “Zhang Chu, let the customer in first. I’ll talk to him. We actually don’t have many other ingredients today, just these few dishes that are ready. How about we add the shark fin…”
“No way!” everyone present exclaimed in unison.
Cao Guixiang: …
Zhang Chu first called Han Guishan in from outside. Having done business for several years, Han Guishan’s talk had become much slicker. As soon as he entered, he quickly explained his thoughts and requests, leaving Mr. Shi dumbfounded and starting to question why he was so unsuccessful in business compared to others.
Look how eloquent that businessman is.
He just knew how to eat.
Ultimately, Cao Guixiang agreed to Han Guishan’s request, promising to include the ring in the dish but not to wrap it inside. She was concerned that Wang Jing might swallow it with her food if the ring was hidden inside.
But there were only two dishes available — one was a duck dish that had not started cooking yet, and the other was the simmered shark fin still in the pot, which Cao Guixiang could portion into two bowls for Han Guishan.
Mr. Shi wanted to give Han Guishan change, but Han Guishan refused it. He left the ring and went out to call Wang Jing. Zhang Chu also went out to help them with water and cutlery, making sure to turn on the lights and securely close the door — the simmered shark fins in the pot were for them only and no one else could come in now.
“Mom, why didn’t you cook for those customers who came yesterday, but agreed to do so for this one today?” Zhang Chiyuan was puzzled.
Cao Guixiang was looking at the diamond ring left by Han Guishan, not big, but quite rare. At this time, not many people used diamond rings for proposals, to be precise, not many people proposed at all.
This tactic of proposing with a ring was probably something Han Guishan picked up from other businessmen who had been abroad.
“Because love is priceless,” Cao Guixiang said with a smile.
Zhang Chiyuan: ?
Zhang Siyu: ?
Mr. Shi: My shark fin, QAQ
Cao Guixiang placed the ring in a clean area, stared at the cleaned duck, and after a few minutes, firmly decided to steam the whole duck. Once it was steamed, she boned and chopped it into three sections.
Seeing this, Jiang Feng understood that what Cao Guixiang was making was Chop-Handle Duck.
No wonder this memory surfaced when Han Guishan was eating Chop-Handle Duck.
Clearly, Chop-Handle Duck was not something Cao Guixiang often made. Her technique was somewhat rusty, far from the skillful display Jiang Feng had seen when Master Xu made Chop-Handle Duck. But as skilled as one might be, with sufficiently good technique, even if not quite skillful, one could still create an outstanding dish.
At this time, Cao Guixiang’s culinary skills should be at their peak, middle age, energy, concentration, strength, and flexibility in her wrists all in excellent condition, having reached a peak in her career as a chef over the years. Although she worked in a small county town restaurant, her boss was hearty and generous, and the ingredients were abundant and could even be described as high-end, which could be discerned just by the braised shark fin in the pot, and surely, she was no stranger to preparing elaborate and prized dishes.
At this moment, Cao Guixiang could definitely be said to be at the apex of the Chinese cuisine pyramid, a position where even Peng Changping from across the ocean might not necessarily surpass her.
Although it feels somewhat unfair to Master Xu, Jiang Feng still wanted to say that the twisted duck prepared by Cao Guixiang and that by Master Xu were truly two different dishes.
Master Xu’s twisted duck would make people focus on its appearance which was indeed very unusual, surprising anyone seeing it for the first time. But Cao Guixiang’s twisted duck would definitely make people focus on wanting to eat it, possibly even overlooking its appearance.
Whether it had form or not didn’t matter; the main interest was in tasting it.
After the twisted duck was ready, Cao Guixiang laid a layer of bean sprouts on the uneven, pointed end of the twisted wood, placing a clean ring on top. This made the ring the centerpiece of the dish, ensuring that it was the first thing people saw when it was served.
With the duck ready, the braised shark fin in another pot was almost done, too. The Tan Family Cuisine method of braising shark fin didn’t require thickening with starch, for the richness of the soup depended entirely on the collagen from the shark fin itself, requiring only time, patience, and precise fire control. The time it took to braise a pot of shark fin was about 6 to 8 hours, the lengthy process and the resulting rich, thick broth being its essence.
The pot of braised shark fin that Cao Guixiang was now preparing was very much the essence.
Jiang Feng had tasted the dish made by Peng Changping and when judging by appearance alone, he couldn’t distinguish which was superior—they both didn’t look like ordinary dishes; they resembled the magic dishes that would emit a golden glow upon lifting the lid in young chef stories.
Being golden in color, the braised shark fin even more so resembled something from a young chef’s tale.
Once the dishes were ready, Cao Guixiang didn’t rush to serve them; she seemed to have some unfinished dishes left.
As expected, after a quick cleaning of the pot, Cao Guixiang began using what remained of some lean meat on the kitchen counter to make a lean meat soup.
Making soup required thickening.
Jiang Feng remembered Peng Changping telling him that Cao Guixiang was exceptionally skilled at thickening, and he watched Cao Guixiang’s movements more intently as the end approached, daring not to blink.
It was soon time to thicken.
The thickening was very simple, not like the Eight Treasures Chestnut Fragrant Pigeon which used broth made from pigeon carcasses; this lean meat soup didn’t use original broth but simply used water mixed with starch for thickening.
A thin layer.
Very simple, very harmonious, very quick, and very effortless.
When the thickening water was slowly poured into the pot along the edges in a clockwise direction, it was as if embracing, making intimate contact, stirring, and blending together.
Harmonious.
Natural.
Despite being very simple steps, they still astounded Jiang Feng.
He felt… he understood something.
A thing called inspiration seemed to have entered his mind the moment the thickening water was poured into the pot.
“Siyu, take this dish out to the guests outside, make sure the shiny side faces that lady, and be careful not to let the ring on top slip off,” said Cao Guixiang as she handed the twisted duck to Zhang Siyu. Zhang Siyu, with chubby arms very capable of holding steady, carefully took the twisted duck and tiptoed cautiously toward the door.
Zhang Chiyuan had walked to the door before her to open it for her.
Jiang Feng also walked through the wall and went out.