The Game of Life

The next morning, when Jiang Feng went to the Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant, he was surprised to find Mr. Jiang Jiankang making vegetable rolls, the same kind that Gu Li and Chu Peng had made in the competition yesterday—not a bit different, stuffed with vegetables!

Vegetable stuffed breakfast appearing early on the Jiang Family’s dining table was unusual indeed.

“Dad, what made you decide to make these today?” Jiang Feng asked curiously.

“It’s because your mom insisted on having them,” Mr. Jiang Jiankang sighed. “I was going to make her lazy dragon rolls, but she insisted on these vegetable rolls. I mean, they’re just wood ear mushrooms, vermicelli, carrots—what’s so tasty about these? The method is almost the same, and they’re not as good as lazy dragon rolls.”

Jiang Feng thought that Mrs. Wang Xiulian probably wanted to eat them because she had seen them in the audience the day before and would definitely regret it later, questioning Mr. Jiang Jiankang why he didn’t make lazy dragons instead.

However, it was just fine that Mr. Jiang Jiankang made the vegetable rolls since there was some leftover dough that could be used to roll out wonton wrappers. “Dad, are you done with this leftover dough?” Jiang Feng asked.

“Not using it anymore; I made too much dough this morning. Just wrap anything in it later and boil as a snack,” Mr. Jiang Jiankang said.

“Give me some; I’ll wrap a fewwontons,” Jiang Feng said.

“Wontons?” Mr. Jiang Jiankang immediately became alert. He nearly cried from Jiang Feng’s impromptu wontons last time—he still couldn’t understand why just one bite of a wonton made him so sad. In the end, he could only assume it was so bad it brought back memories of the hard times.

Now that Jiang Feng wanted to make wontons again, Mr. Jiang Jiankang’s mental alarm bells started ringing.

“Right, just two wontons to practice. I still haven’t decided what to make for the semifinals and just want to try making something,” Jiang Feng said, bolstered by a plausibly crafted fib, which Mr. Jiang Jiankang grudgingly chose to believe.

Wang Shitou’s pure meat wontons had very strict ingredient requirements: wonton wrappers, pure meat filling, and two drops of sesame oil. Last time, Jiang Feng had followed the recipe’s video steps precisely, including Wang Shitou’s rough techniques, to make an accurate, yet unpleasantly true-to-taste version.

This time, Jiang Feng decided to rely on his own methods, aside from faithfully replicating the recipe’ s ingredients and steps,toseeifhislimited culinary skills could salvage these pure meat wontons that were bound to evoke the most bitter memories of someone’s younger years.

Rolling the dough, chopping the filling, seasoning, wrapping them into wontons, cooking them until done, adding a drop of sesame oil—a series of actions that took no more than ten minutes. While Mr. Jiang Jiankang’s vegetable rolls were still steaming, Jiang Feng’s pure meat wontons were ready. Jiang Feng looked at the bowl in front of him with the overcooked wontons, the skin and meat starting to separate.

[Pure Meat Wontons Grade E]

Although it was still difficult to eat due to the raw materials and overcooking, with a little more effort in rolling the dough and seasoning, the F-grade pure meat wontons from the recipe could be promoted to E-grade.

The grades in the recipe were actually the benchmarks for the dishes.

Jiang Huiqin’s sweet and sour yam recipe was a simplified version of the deep sugar base method; Jiang Feng needed to try Jiang Huiqin’s method to determine what grade his sweet and sour yam would be, then practice making it with the deep sugar base method.

Although he knew how to do the deep sugar base method, he couldn’t say he was skilled at it. Mishaps did occur occasionally, and he managed to keep it in check only with Jiang Weiming’s intermittent reviews and guidance. Otherwise, with his focus shifted to the competition dishes these days, he would have long since forgotten the deep sugar base technique.

If he was still prone to mistakes before the competition, using Jiang Huiqin’s method as a backup plan for the sweet and sour yam might not be a bad idea for the sake of certainty during the competition.

The pure meat wontons in front of him were still steaming hot.

Jiang Feng’s self-destructive curiosity was stirring again.

He was genuinely curious about what the most bitter memory of his younger years could be.

He was only 21; even considering the present, he could be called young. Pondering the topic of bitter memories, he thought of many things: being scolded by Sir for messing up the sandbag as a kid, getting reprimanded for slicing tofu, for practicing the rolling cut, for the first time he touched the wok, and the first time he cooked a meat dish.

On reflection, it seemed all his memories were of being scolded by Sir.

And Sir scolded with such cadence and subtlety, without repeating a word.

Afterwards, there wasn’t much else that was bitter. The high school years that seemed tough and painful in the eyes of most students seemed trivial to the Jiang Family youngsters compared to their culinary training.

Jiang Feng could no longer contain his right hand.

He quietly picked up the wonton bowl and headed to the storage room.

“Son, where are you going?” Mr. Jiang Jiankang asked, “The vegetable rolls will be ready soon. Are you still going to eat them?”

“Eat, I’ll find something in the storage room.” Jiang Feng lied without batting an eyelid.

“This kid, going to look for something while still holding a bowl of wontons.” Jiang Jiankang shook his head, then focused on the steamer in front of him.

Jiang Feng walked into the storage room and quietly closed the door behind him.

He scooped up a wonton and put it in his mouth.

It didn’t taste good.

But soon, Jiang Feng didn’t have the energy to focus on the taste anymore, as his vision gradually blurred and his eyes filled with tears.

His 10th birthday fell on a Saturday. Jiang Jiankang and Wang Xiulian had originally planned to take him to the aquarium for fun, but that morning his grandmother had taken a fall down the stairs.

Jiang Jiankang and Wang Xiulian had rushed to the hospital to see his grandmother, leaving him alone at home. Jiang Feng had thought about going next door to play with Chen Xiuxiu, but found that no one was home.

A few of his male cousins were either in class or had gone out to play with friends. He was the only one who spent his birthday alone at home.

No birthday cake, no feast, no aquarium, and no one to talk to him. Jiang Feng didn’t watch TV; he just sat quietly on the floor all day long, staring at it.

That was the first time he felt loneliness.

It was late when Jiang Jiankang and Wang Xiulian returned home from the county hospital, their faces weary. Wang Xiulian apologized and said they would take him to the aquarium the next day. The aquarium on weekends was packed with visitors; they had to queue up early even though it opened at 9 a.m. It took nearly half an hour by car from Jiang Feng’s home to the aquarium, and it would be tough on Jiang Jiankang and Wang Xiulian to take him there the next day after a tiring day.

The 10-year-old Jiang Feng smiled and said, “No need, I played with Xiuxiu all day today, just watched several episodes of cartoons and had cream bread at her place for lunch. I’m so happy, we don’t need to go to the aquarium tomorrow.”

That was the first time he lied.

And the first time he wanted to cry but didn’t dare to.

He had long forgotten it.

Yet it was the most bitter memory of his youth.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Jiang Feng silently walked out of the storage room, into the bathroom, and dumped the wontons in the toilet.

It’s better not to throw this stuff into the pig slop bucket; even pigs wouldn’t grow fat from eating it.

Now that he thought about it, it seemed like nothing much, just an insignificant incident from his younger days. But eating those wontons Just now made him relive his 10-year-old self’s bitterness and brought him close to tears.

Not only that, but Jiang Feng also remembered that Mrs. Wang Xiulian and Mr. Jiang Jiankang had never taken him to the aquarium, not even once. Every planned visit had been canceled for various reasons, as if under a curse.

By the time Jiang Feng came out of the bathroom with his bowl, Jiang Jiankang and Wang Xiulian had already started eating.

“Thrown it away?” Jiang Jiankang asked.

“Yeah, too disgusting.” Jiang Feng nodded, washed his hands, and went to pick up a spring roll.

“Ah, son, you really don’t have any talent for making wontons. Better leave it to others from nowon.” Jiang Jiankang sighed, the last bite of wonton had left a deep impression on him.

“Dad,” Jiang Feng looked at Jiang Jiankang intently, “find some time this year to take me to the aquarium, will you?”

Jiang Jiankang: ???

Had his son gone crazy from eating wontons?

“Sure, when we have time.” Jiang Jiankang humored his silly son, “Have you figured out what dish to make for the semifinals? Need me to help you brainstorm?”

“I’ve decided, I’ll make the Sweet and Sour Yam,” said Jiang Feng, taking a bite of his spring roll.

Mediocre.

Mr. Jiang Jiankang indeed lacked the talent for making vegetarian dishes.