The Game of Life

The next day, Jiang Feng started his winter break routine of culinary practice.

Jiang Weiming had also become one of the instructors, joining Jiang Weiguo. The two imposing figures stood in the kitchen, watching over Jiang Feng as he practiced controlling the heat.

"It’s overcooked, overcooked, the heat is too high, can’t you taste it in your own cooking? How many days has it been since you last cooked, that you can’t even stir-fry vegetables?” Jiang Weiguo was an absolute tyrant in the kitchen, barking at Jiang Feng until he barely dared to breathe.

"What are you so timid about? Do you think you can cook well like that? Dump it out, start over!”

This was already the seventeenth plate of greens Jiang Feng had thrown away this morning.

Wang Xiulian and Li Mingli had washed two large baskets of greens in the morning, enough for Jiang Feng to stir-fry all day long.

The countryside might lack many things, but vegetables were in abundance. Greens, potatoes, sweet potatoes, these were all great ingredients for practicing heat control. With the village close to the town, if the local supply ran out, the town’s vegetable market would surely have enough.

If Jiang Feng really could cause a shortage in the vegetable market with his practice, then he wouldn’t be far from becoming a master himself.

Learning to cook is like learning English; feeling is very important. If there’s no feeling, that’s fine, just practice. Practice and the feeling will come. Take Jiang Weisheng, for example, with his poor talent for cooking. After forty years of practice, the dishes he cooks for Liu Qian are still praised as delicious.

"Feng is just like you were when you were young, can’t find the feeling.” Jiang Weiming watched Jiang Feng practicing cooking, reflecting on the past.

"How old was I then? Not even ten years old, not finding the feeling is normal. But he’s already twenty, having the same problem as I did when I was a child, does that make any sense?” Jiang Weiguo huffed discontentedly.

"It’s different now. Back in our days, just having a teacher for an hour a day to learn to read was enough. They have to go to school, work, and also be presentable. Our line of work is hard and tough, it’s not as popular as it used to be. If Feng is willing to learn, you should be happy about it,” Jiang Weiming said.

“It’s not bad at all. The foundation you’ve laid for him is strong, he won’t disappoint in the future.”

Jiang Weiguo’s expression softened a lot, his tone laced with a touch of satisfaction:

“Out of my four grandsons, he’s the only one who persevered through the sandbag training from the beginning. He didn’t miss a single basic skill, practiced diligently for seven whole years without a break. The other three, they look sturdy but they’re no use, always complaining about pain and fatigue.”

Meanwhile, Jiang Feng had the flame roaring as he concentrated fully on the frying pan, unaware of the old man’s quiet words. Otherwise, he would have known that the old man didn’t force him to train with the sandbag for a year because he was frail and weak, but because, of the four grandchildren, he was the most honest when he was little, while the other brothers and cousins knew how to shirk.

"Shall we go for a walk?” Jiang Weiguo suggested.

"Sure.”

"Feng, fry ten more plates, then rest for a while. Your Granduncle and I are going to walk around the village. Cook well, I’ll check when I’m back!” Jiang Weiguo said loudly.

"Yes, Grandpa!” Jiang Feng turned off the heat and plated the greens.

"It’s burnt again, take a look at what you’ve cooked! I could feed it to pigs and they’d still get thin,” Jiang Weiguo didn’t forget to throw in a couple more criticisms before leaving.

After Da Hua was butchered, Mrs. Jiang, worried about the loneliness of the other two pigs in the pen, bought two more piglets. Anyway, with another pig set to be butchered for the New Year, the pigpen would soon be back to its constant trio of pigs.

The two new arrivals, having been raised by Mrs. Jiang for a few months, didn’t fare as well under her less skilled pig-rearing compared to Sir. They were nowhere near as splendid as Da Hua, now turned into various pork dishes. The old man’s affection for the four pigs in the pen wasn’t as strong as before; had Da Hua still been around, he definitely wouldn’t have wanted to waste Jiang Feng’s stir-fried greens on it.

"Brother, shall we invite your two sons to join us for the New Year’s meal, or should we go to them?” Jiang Weiguo wandered aimlessly around the village with Jiang Weiming.

"They… they probably wouldn’t want to come. My youngest son hasn’t come to see me for nearly ten years. Going there is even less necessary. I actually forgot to mention it to my eldest son. When I get back, I’ll give him a call and talk to him about it,” Jiang Weiming didn’t really want to talk about his children.

He didn’t want to discuss it, so Jiang Weiguo didn’t ask.

The two of them walked leisurely around, and before they knew it, they found themselves at the village fishpond. The fishpond was collectively contracted by all the villagers, with the costs evenly split. Everyone just needed to manage it occasionally, and anyone who wanted fish could simply go and catch some.

By the fishpond, Jiang Weiguo recognized two familiar figures.

Jiang Jiankang and Jiang Jiandang, two agile fat men, each with a fishnet in hand, squatting by the pond, scooping fish and occasionally gesturing inside the water, being picky.

Jiang Weiguo felt the veins on his forehead struggling to stay calm.

His two sons, nowhere to be found all morning, turned up here, idling around fishing for fun.

"You two rascals, what are you fishing for!” Jiang Weiguo scolded.

Jiang Jiankang, startled by his father’s voice, nearly tumbled into the pond with his brother.

"Dad.” Jiang Jiankang forced a smile,

“My brother and I are trying to catch bighead carp. We didn’t find any good ones at the market, so we wanted to check the pond.”

"What are you two buying fathead fish for?” Jiang Weiguo asked.

"Yesterday Feng said Uncle Weiming would make me chopped chili fish head today. If we don’t have the ingredients at home, of course my second brother and I have to go buy them,” Jiang Jiankang said.

Jiang Weiguo:…

If those two in front of him weren’t his own flesh and blood, he really wanted to kick each one of them into the fish pond.

He did indeed favor the eldest a bit in the past, because he was talented, but none of his sons were ever shortchanged when it came to food. Each son grew up plump and healthy, from chubby children to burly adults. How could they think about eating all the time as if they were never full?

Jiang Weiguo looked at his two sons with an unfriendly expression.

Jiang Weiming chuckled and came out to smooth things over,

“Indeed, I did tell Feng on my way here yesterday, Jiandang and Jiankang have been thoughtful.”

"Brother, they’re just messing around. Just pretend you didn’t hear it,” he said.

"No worries, I’ll find a time to prepare a table full of Sichuan dishes for you, so you can try and pick them apart,” Jiang Weiming said.

"Well, I wouldn’t dare pick at your faults, Brother,” Jiang Weiguo said and, disregarding his two sons, walked away with Jiang Weiming.

After the two elders had gone far away, Jiang Jiankang holding the net bag asked,

“Second brother, are we still going to catch fathead fish?”

Jiang Jiandang pondered,

“Well, since Dad has already scolded us, let’s go for it. Who knows, we might catch some!”

Jiang Jiankang thought this made sense, so the two brothers started fishing for fathead fish again.

"Don’t always scold them. Your nephews are all grown up and they’re filial, which is great,” Jiang Weiming advised.

“My two sons aren’t even as filial as my apprentice.”

"How about finding a time to meet your apprentice?”

"After the New Year’s over, if you have time, you should also go to Shu territory. I have a few old colleagues there, we haven’t kept in touch for many years. They’re more accomplished than I am, with children and grandchildren carrying on the family business, especially Old Mr. Wu’s granddaughter. She has a natural talent for the trade. I’ll introduce you to her,” Jiang Weiming said.

Jiang Feng finished stir-frying the ten plates of vegetables that Sir had specified and sat down on a kitchen chair to rest.

With those ten plates, he had stir-fried twenty-eight plates of vegetables in total, and his hand was numb from all the flipping and tossing.

For now, Jiang Feng didn’t want to do anything that involved using his hands, including playing with his phone.

"Feng, the pigs are oinking, they must be hungry. Go feed the pigs!” Mrs. Jiang shouted from the next room.

"Okay, Grandma!” Feng shouted back responsively. He rubbed his wrists, poured the leftovers from the swill bucket into the pig feed bucket along with the pigweed, mixed it, and carried it to the pigsty to feed the pigs.

Two big pigs and two piglets eyed Feng keenly, snorting and roaring at the bucket in his hands.

When Feng poured the feed into the trough, the four pigs swarmed over.

The names of the pigs were given by Mrs. Jiang. Apart from Da Hua, who had already been slaughtered, the names of the two remaining big pigs were Erhua and Sanhua, and the two piglets were named Sihua and Wuhua. They were named according to their weight, and if Sanhua could surpass the others, its name could be changed to Erhua.

But Sanhua probably wouldn’t have that chance.

Erhua was lazy and loved to eat and sleep, resulting in most of its bulk being fat. Sanhua was different; though not as active as Da Hua, it did exercise now and then and looked quite sturdy. This year’s New Year pig was likely to be Sanhua.

Its hind leg would surely make a tasty ham!

"Sanhua, what do you think of how I stir-fried these vegetables?” Jiang Feng asked, looking at Sanhua.

Sanhua buried its head in the feed, kicking Erhua with its strong hind leg for crowding it.

That’s one fine leg!