The Game of Life TGOL-Chapter 7 - : Century Egg and Lean Pork Congee

7 Chapter 7: Century Egg and Lean Pork Congee

Translator: Larbre Studio

Editor: Larbre Studio

Compared to Chen Xiuxiu’s modest kitchen, the Jiang family’s was much better equipped with kitchen tools and seasonings. Not wanting to poison his friend, Jiang Feng decided to first cook the porridge at home, to see how it turned out before considering whether to bring it over.

He chopped up the preserved egg, marinated the lean meat, and after a flurry of activity, Jiang Feng stepped out of the kitchen to wait quietly for the porridge to cook.

Taking out his phone, Jiang Feng realized that Wang Hao had sent him a string of messages.

Mouse: Feng, which button do I press to cook rice in the rice cooker??!!

Mouse: Feng, how much water and how much rice do I need to cook rice??!!

Mouse: Feng, what setting should I adjust the voltage stabilizer to??!!

Mouse: Feng, save me!!!

Jiang Feng: …

Since when are you still a kid in our Jiang family? Anyone over 150 pounds doesn’t count as a child.

After remotely guiding Wang Hao on how to use the rice cooker, Jiang Feng browsed through his Moments and then received a reply from Wang Hao.

Mouse: Feng, it’s too late…

Mouse: Feng, I’m begging you to come back! I miss your clay pot pork rib rice!

Jiang Feng: …

guna ??

In order to repay his roommate’s longing, Jiang Feng lifted the pot lid, took a picture of the steaming pot of porridge that wasn’t quite done yet, and clicked send.

Setting down his phone, he began to stir the porridge in the pot.

After stirring for about fifteen minutes, Jiang Feng glanced at the clock in the living room. It was 4:40 PM, not yet dinner time. He turned off the heat, covered the pot, and left it to keep warm.

Turning on his phone, he inevitably received a series of wails from Wang Hao.

Considering the main task at hand, Jiang Feng decided to call Wang Hao to ask about his situation and, at the same time, to ask for his help in promoting the new restaurant that was about to open.

Wang Hao may have been unlucky in love and unable to shake off his extra weight, but he was successful in his business endeavors. He had opened a small shop in the dormitory and was doing great; almost half the dormitory leaders in the male dorms had added him on WeChat.

“Hello.” The call was quickly answered, carrying Wang Hao’s mournful wail.

“Feng, you’re so uncool, cooking up a storm at home and not caring whether your brother lives or dies,” Wang Hao immediately accused Jiang Feng.

“… You do know you can eat at the canteen, right?”

“During the summer vacation, the cafeteria just cycles through the same few dishes. They’re even worse than pig slop, and they don’t even turn on the air conditioning. Almost all the restaurants on the food street by the back gate are closed; it’s like they don’t want to give us summer students any means to live,” Wang Hao complained.

This year’s summer temperature in Alan City hadn’t dropped below 37 degrees Celsius, so it would have been a surprise if any of the shopkeepers stayed open just for a handful of students.

“So you decided to cook plain rice in your dorm?” Jiang Feng didn’t understand Wang Hao’s thought process.

“You don’t get it, plain rice with spicy sticks is the ultimate summer cooler,” Wang Hao sighed. “Did you call just to brag about eating and drinking well at home?”

“Let’s talk business. Do you know about the new restaurant being renovated on the food street behind the school?”

“Yeah, you’re pretty up to date! It’s such a big place with two floors, and they haven’t even put up their sign yet. Every day I pass by, I see a bunch of brawny guys overseeing the work. That restaurant owner must be loaded!” Wang Hao exclaimed. “What do you think they’ll sell? An entire security firm can’t be setting up right behind our school!”

“… That’s my family’s new restaurant…”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a while. Jiang Feng quietly moved the phone away from his ear, and sure enough, Wang Hao’s shout came through loud and clear.

“Damn, Feng, you really are my bro, a rich second generation hiding in plain sight!”

“Get lost! I’m a poor second generation right now. My dad borrowed a big sum of money to open that store, and we’re now heavily in debt,” Jiang Feng said with a laugh. “You have to promote it well on WeChat for me, or else you might see me begging at the bridge.”

“No problem, but Feng, how’s Uncle’s cooking? I have never advertised anything on my Moments, and I don’t want to have clients blocking me after my first ad,” Wang Hao said cautiously.

“Stop it, what customers at your little shop? What do you think of my cooking skills?” Jiang Feng replied.

“You won’t find a second one like you in the whole male dormitory!” Wang Hao praised earnestly.

“In my dad’s eyes, most of the dishes I make are pig slop.”

Wang Hao was immediately fired up. Whenever Jiang Feng cooked pork rib clay pot rice in the dormitory, the aroma wafted far and wide, stirring up the whole building. If that was considered pig slop, he was willing to eat it for a lifetime!

“No problem, I’ll rent out my Moments for you to advertise for a whole year! Let’s forget about the advertisement fees, how about you cover three meals a day?” Wang Hao proposed slyly.

“I wouldn’t forget something for you to eat,” Jiang Feng felt he needed to give Wang Hao a heads-up, “but you should pay attention to exercising, or you’ll hit 200 pounds with your horizontal growth.”

“As if I’d easily reach 200 pounds.”

How could it not be easy? Look at our Jiang Family, aside from me, who hasn’t effortlessly reached 200 pounds?

After chatting with Wang Hao for a few more sentences, Jiang Feng hung up the phone.

Glancing at his cell phone, it showed 5:15 PM, just the right time, not too early for dinner.

Carrying a bowl of warm preserved egg and lean pork congee, Jiang Feng knocked on the door next door.

[A bowl of preserved egg and lean pork congee with incorrect ingredient proportions]

The proportions might have been off, but Jiang Feng tasted it; it was still alright.

It was Chen Duxiu who opened the door; unexpectedly, he was actually at home.

“Mr. Chen, I’ve brought some congee for Xiuxiu,” Jiang Feng said.

Chen Duxiu seemed surprised: “Bringing congee?”

“She had a stomach ailment this morning, Dr. Chen told her to drink congee for a few days,” Jiang Feng explained.

“This child, how did she end up with a stomach ailment?” Chen Duxiu muttered as he walked in, “Really, it’s such a bother for you, Feng.”

“It’s nothing.”

Chen Xiuxiu was sitting on the sofa watching TV, with a cup of plain water on the coffee table in front of her. Seeing Jiang Feng come in, still holding a bowl of congee, she got up to pour water for him.

“Preserved egg and lean pork congee?” Chen Xiuxiu sniffed the aroma.

Jiang Feng nodded.

“I don’t eat meat.”

Chen Duxiu became anxious and scolded, “What are you talking about, child? Feng is kindly making congee for you, and you’re here being picky.”

“It’s fine, I’ve taken out the meat and preserved eggs,” Jiang Feng said accommodatingly. “Mr. Chen, why don’t you come to my place for some congee? I’ll stir-fry a few dishes for you.”

“How could I impose?” Chen Duxiu was obviously tempted.

“It’s alright, this way you can try my cooking,” Jiang Feng said with a smile.

“The culinary skills of the Jiang Family are certainly unquestionable. Back when your grandfather was the head chef at the state-owned restaurant, the aroma of the dishes would drift over, tantalizing all of us kids. We would pester your father and your uncles just to scrounge a bite to eat.”

“When I was a kid, all those New Year pictures and clay figurines went to your dad and your uncle.”

“But your grandfather, his cooking was truly delicious; your dad couldn’t match his skills.”

Chen Duxiu followed Jiang Feng to his house, reminiscing about the past.

Comrade Jiang Weiguo’s culinary talents were indeed superb; every Chinese New Year, when the entire family gathered and Sir cooked, the Jiang Family members were always as happy as if it really was the New Year… even though it indeed was.

But undoubtedly, Sir’s culinary skills were still the pinnacle among the chefs of the Jiang Family.

Just as Jiang Feng served two bowls of congee and placed them on the table, he heard the system notification.

“Ding, received 9 experience points.”

“Ding, received 12 experience points.”

“Ding, received 12 experience points.”

…

It seemed that Chen Xiuxiu was very satisfied with this congee.

“Mr. Chen, you have some congee first, I’ll go fry a couple of dishes,” Jiang Feng walked into the kitchen in high spirits.

“Ding, received 2 experience points.”

Jiang Feng turned around, and there was Chen Duxiu, holding the congee.

Tsk.

Stingy.

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