The Game of Life - Chapter 378

Chapter 378: Chapter 377: Feng, Come and Learn to Make Noodles with Me!

On September 10th, at 8:57 AM, Jiang Feng, with a disheveled appearance and an absent-minded expression like he was walking on clouds, dragged his luggage out of the train station.

Wu Minqi, who came to pick him up at the exit, hesitated for several seconds before daring to recognize him.

“Fengfeng, didn’t you buy a soft sleeper ticket? How did you end up looking like this?” Wu Minqi asked.

Jiang Feng sighed, “Fate plays tricks on people!”

This time, everything was fine when he boarded the train: no footprints on the bedsheet and he was the only person in his compartment—a perfect place to get a good night’s sleep. At that moment, Jiang Feng was somewhat relieved, feeling as if his single ticket purchase had earned him a billion.

However, at the next stop, the other three people assigned to his compartment boarded. A couple with two children—the older one looked to be seven or eight years old, and the younger one was still held in arms. Since the family boarded around midnight, everyone went to sleep and there was no trouble.

Until 2 AM, when Jiang Feng was woken up by the crying of the child.

Whether it was because the bed on the soft sleeper was uncomfortable, or the mother’s embrace wasn’t warm enough, the loud cries of the small child happened every few minutes as if to assert his presence. In the enclosed compartment, Jiang Feng endured what he felt to be 3D Blu-ray surround sound crying.

If the previous gnashing of teeth could be described with a verse from Su Shi’s “Red Cliff Ode,” for last night’s incessant, wave-like, undulating, and never-ending crying, Jiang Feng could only liken it to the recent hit Japanese drama with “oh my Julia aaaaa~.”

“There was a child in the compartment, he didn’t seem to adapt well last night.” Jiang Feng summarized his entire last night’s experience in sixteen words.

Wu Minqi immediately understood, “Do you need to go back to sleep this morning?”

“No need,” Jiang Feng said, “I just need to take a shower and change clothes. Don’t we have customers coming to eat the Eight Treasures Chestnut Fragrant Pigeon this noon? How about Ji Xue, is there any news?”

Wu Minqi and Jiang Feng walked into the subway station together, and as they walked, she said, “We haven’t found her yet, but we found her identity card’s ticket purchasing records, now she should be in FZ. Probably she didn’t want to stay in the province for fear of encountering acquaintances, and with not much money on her, she couldn’t go far, so she went to the neighboring province. Ji Xue called yesterday and said that the police were checking the surveillance and should be able to find her in the next couple of days. Yue also called Sun Jikai, since he’s in FZ, he should be able to help too.”

“That’s good, as long as she can be found,” Jiang Feng nodded, “Have you had breakfast?”

“No, I left right after kneading dough this morning.” Wu Minqi hinted strongly.

Jiang Feng got the hint: “Let’s go back and I’ll make you noodle pulling to eat. Master Huang even praised me yesterday for having a special talent for noodle pulling and wanted to keep me in Alan City to learn it from him.”

Wu Minqi played along with a smile, taking Jiang Feng’s boasting at face value. She remembered clearly what the noodles Jiang Feng made at Morning Wind Primary School were like. It was impossible for him to learn noodle pulling in just a few days.

By the time Jiang Feng and Wu Minqi got home, it was almost ten o’clock. Jiang Feng quickly took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and went to the kitchen to prepare for noodle pulling.

He was familiar with the steps; Wu Minqi had kneaded the dough. Wu Minqi seldom dealt with dough apart from making dumplings, so her kneading skills were average, which was not as good as Jiang Feng’s, who had been instructed by Jiang Jianguo and Master Huang.

“Qiqi, when kneading dough in the summer, you should use cold water, but our house has constant temperature and humidity with central air conditioning, so you would be better off using warm water,” Jiang Feng reminded, taking a small piece of dough and beginning to prepare for pulling.

Pulling noodles is the most visually entertaining part of the process; if it’s a performance, a White Chef can turn the dough into flowers. It was Jiang Feng’s first time pulling noodles in front of Wu Minqi and he was a little nervous, which made his movements a bit stiff, but Jiang Feng’s talent in noodle pulling was undeniable. He quickly adapted.

Jiang Feng’s arms extended straight out, pulling and shaking in tandem. The dough stretched down like water rushing over a waterfall. Just as the strip nearly reached the floor, Jiang Feng crossed his wrists with a forceful motion, and the dough intertwined like a twisted rope, in a cycle that looked quite professional, leaving Wu Minqi stunned.

Just as Jiang Feng was earnestly pulling noodles, the doorbell rang. They could hear Jianguo’s loud voice from the kitchen: “Feng, Qiqi, are you home?”

Wu Minqi went to open the door for Jianguo, only to see that he was holding two bowls of bone-broth noodles.

“Your mother called me about half an hour ago, saying you hadn’t eaten breakfast before going to the station to pick up Feng, and told me to cook a bowl of noodles for you so you won’t be hungry. I thought maybe Feng didn’t eat either, so I cooked two bowls. The noodles were pulled first, eat them while they’re hot!” Jianguo said cheerfully as he walked in and saw Jiang Feng pulling noodles in the kitchen, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Wow, Feng can pull noodles now, this…”

Jianguo suddenly fell silent, just holding the two bowls of noodles and watching Jiang Feng pull noodles.

Pulling noodles is meant to make them smooth, soft, and elastic. Smooth movements are one aspect, but controlling the degree is another. If it’s overdone, it can result in uneven thickness when the noodles come out, which is counterproductive.

Jiang Feng noticed Jianguo had arrived, and seeing him standing there with two bowls of noodles staring at him, he felt a little uncomfortable. He could only smile at Jianguo and said, “Uncle, what are you doing standing? Please, sit down.”

“Oh, oh.” Jianguo finally snapped out of it and placed the noodles on the table, continuing to watch Jiang Feng.

After pulling once more, Jiang Feng felt the dough was ready, so he placed the evenly pulled thick strip onto the kitchen bench, sprinkled it with flour, and began to pull the noodles.

When it came to pulling, Jiang Feng was capable enough; not great, but nothing much you could fault him for. But the real test of skill was in the actual noodle pulling, and that Jiang Feng did not excel in. After six pulls, most of the noodles were already broken, though fortunately the thickness was consistent enough—they might be coarse but still edible.

It wasn’t until Jiang Feng finished pulling noodles that he realized Jianguo had brought bone broth noodles.

He had been focused on the dough in front of him and hadn’t paid attention to what Jianguo was saying.

“Ah, uncle, I didn’t realize you had also made noodles, my…” Jiang Feng felt that showing his noodle-pulling in front of Jianguo was really like a novice’s attempt to teach an expert.

“No worries, Uncle had barely eaten enough just now. You guys go ahead and eat the noodles; I’ll cook these noodles for myself to eat something quickly.” Jiang Jianguo looked at the nearly broken-in-half noodles in Jiang Feng’s hands with straightened eyes, stood up, took the noodles from Jiang Feng, and prepared to start cooking them.

Wu Minqi who couldn’t eat the first batch of noodles pulled by Jiang Feng: ???

Jiang Feng, who found Uncle a bit odd: ???

They exchanged a look, unsure of what Jiang Jianguo was up to, and since they were hungry too, and given that Jianguo’s noodle-making skills were the best among the Jiang Family uncles, and the bone broth noodles already smelled enticing, they sat down and started eating as it was getting late and they still had to go to work at Taifeng Building.

In the kitchen, Jiang Jianguo held the noodles Jiang Feng had just pulled in his hands, examining them closely both inside and out, not letting a single one escape his scrutiny—the thickness, the smoothness, the way they broke. As he looked, Jianguo’s eyes grew moist.

Jiang Jianguo was very clear about Jiang Feng’s skill level in White Chef role, as he had taught Feng even how to mix the dough. Therefore, he was deeply aware of how much Jiang Feng had improved in pulling noodles these past days.

If he remembered correctly, just last week, when Feng asked for his guidance, he couldn’t even pull the strands smoothly and was far from grasping the basics. Yet, just a few days later, not only had he gotten the hang of it, but he was also actually quite skillful.

Feng usually had to work normally at Taifeng Building during the day and practice sea cucumber dishes under the watchful eyes of the two elders, only having time at night to practice White Chef skills, and these past days he had even less time as he went back to school. Despite those difficult conditions, he still could…

He still could!

Jiang Jianguo’s hands were trembling with excitement.

In his eyes, the likes of ‘studying by the light coming through a hole in the wall’ or ‘gathering fireflies for light or reading books in the snow’ were nothing compared to what his nephew achieved!

Feng’s true calling should be that of a White Chef!

In just a few minutes, Jiang Jianguo thought of a lot.

He remembered the fish that Feng had scorched years ago, the eight-treasure porridge and lean meat porridge with preserved eggs that Feng had made, and even Feng’s pickled vegetable dumplings.

Yes, that’s right, Feng’s true talent lay in the White Chef domain—forcing him to be a Red Chef was the waste of his real talent!

After Jiang Feng quickly finished a bowl of bone broth noodles and brought his bowl to the kitchen to wash it, he found Jiang Jianguo holding the noodles and spacing out, with no apparent intention of cooking them.

“Uncle?” Jiang Feng asked tentatively.

Jiang Jianguo came back to reality and, seeing Jiang Feng, his face lit up with excitement, exclaiming with a fierceness matching that of Master Huang, “Feng, tell Uncle, do you like White Chef work?”

Jiang Feng: ???

“If you like White Chef, just say so. If you’re afraid to tell Grandpa, Uncle will speak to him for you. Let Grandpa teach you White Chef. Tell Uncle, is it White Chef you want to learn?”

Jiang Feng: …

Uncle, calm down a bit.

You’ve been used to getting hit by Sir since you were young, but I can’t take that much.

“Well… it’s okay, I like both Red Chef and White Chef. Didn’t Grandpa and Granduncle Weiming learn both? It’s just that they focused more on Red Chef, and I think it’s great,” Jiang Feng said.

“Sigh.” Jiang Jianguo let out a sigh of frustration as if lamenting wasted potential, “Such a natural talent gone to waste.”

Jiang Feng: …

Is my talent in Red Chef that bad in your eyes???

“Uncle, Minqi and I will head to the store first. Remember to lock the door when you leave,” Jiang Feng decided that discretion was the better part of valor.

On the way to Taifeng Building, Jiang Feng still felt something was off. Whether it was Master Huang or Jiang Jianguo, they had both been suddenly encouraging him to focus on White Chef work these past two days. Could it be that his performance in Red Chef work was so uninspiring to them?

“Qiqi, what do you think of my talent in Red Chef work?” Jiang Feng asked.

“It’s pretty good,” Wu Minqi said, “Among the people I know, other than Zhang Guanghang, it’s you.”

Jiang Feng nodded, unapologetically accepting the praise.

So it must be that his talent in White Chef work was simply too exceptional.

Ah, being over-talented can sometimes be a burden too.