The Game of Life

Jiang Feng decided to finish work as usual today and go home to delve into the specific ways to prepare Shafu Roast Chicken. Tomorrow’s interviews and filming were scheduled for the afternoon, and Xu Cheng had booked dinner at Taifeng Building, suggesting he planned to eat there for the next few days until the feature was over.

Jiang Feng planned to visit the Benevolent Doctor the next morning to see if there were any new “rookies” to help dial up his cafeteria task progress, whip up a pot of “Love’s Boiled Broccoli” for lunch for Jiang Shoucheng, and then head back to Taifeng Building for the interviews and filming in the afternoon.

The itinerary was packed.

He believed that Jiang Shoucheng would be moved when he tasted that pot of boiled broccoli tomorrow.

After getting home, Jiang Feng slumped on the sofa, went online on his phone to check the recipe for Shafu Roast Chicken, and then fell into deep thought.

He had assumed that since the game’s hint was that a crispy apple would be a good choice, apples must play a crucial, yet subtly pivotal, role in Shafu Roast Chicken, potentially being the crowning touch.

But after researching, Jiang Feng realized that apples had virtually no presence in the dish; they were simply cut into small pieces, lightly fried in a butter pan, and then plated, playing an even smaller role than the blanched vegetables tossed in butter for decoration. At least the vegetables were arranged artistically, with attention to color coordination, folded to resemble a flower, whereas apples were just casually mixed into the chicken after cooking, shapeless.

So what exactly was the link between Shafu Roast Chicken and crispy apples?

Jiang Feng lay curled up in deep thought on the sofa, like a contemplative husky.

Eyes wide open, brows furrowed.

When Wu Minqi brought in the herbal tea to the living room, this was the scene she encountered.

“What’s on your mind?” Wu Minqi placed the herbal tea on the coffee table and moved it in front of Jiang Feng.

The herbal tea was delivered by Ji Xue in the morning; as a person from Guangdong Province, she brewed herbal tea that was far superior to Jiang Feng’s Five Flowers Tea.

Jiang Feng’s Five Flowers Tea was somewhat sweet because he added monk fruit, whereas Ji Xue’s had ingredients like honeysuckle, chrysanthemum, astragalus, and licorice that brewed into a tea that cleared heat, quenched thirst, and even had a subtly sweet aftertaste.

Ji Xue’s herbal tea was a heat-clearing detoxifier, suited for those with internal heat and fiery tempers, making it an optimal drink during the stuffy and irritating hot season.

The herbal tea had been chilled in the refrigerator for a day and then left out by Wu Minqi for over half an hour; it was slightly cool and exactly the right temperature upon drinking.

“I’m trying to figure out the connection between Shafu Roast Chicken and crispy apples,” Jiang Feng said, shifting into a more comfortable slouch.

“Shafu Roast Chicken? Isn’t that a French dish? What could it have to do with crispy apples?” Wu Minqi asked back, picking up the remote to turn on the TV.

“I can’t figure it out either, but I feel like there might be some connection between the two,” Jiang Feng replied as he quickly stopped her, “I watched that series last week, and it’s not good. The male lead gets cheated on in the second episode, and the female lead appears in the seventh.”

Wu Minqi exited the TV show’s screen and switched to a new series.

The two happily watched a night of silly domestic idol romance dramas.

Early the next day, Wu Minqi went out to snag the green bean buns from the bakery at the entrance of their complex, while Jiang Feng slept in a little longer before heading to the Benevolent Doctor to try his luck with potential “rookie” mice for his task progress.

After Ji Yue had heroically paid a painful price for two buns last time but didn’t regret it, everyone became curious about the green bean buns sold at the bakery at the complex entrance and fell in love with it after trying.

With Mrs. Wang Xiulian, the great-aunt, the second aunt, the fourth aunt, and Aunt Wuhua joining the ranks of early risers vying for green bean buns, sales were hot, and lining up for buns became the norm. Unemployed passersby who didn’t seem to have jobs or anything better to do were intrigued by the need to queue at a breakfast shop and joined in, turning the bakery into a famous local breakfast spot, even trending on Weibo.

Wu Minqi had the important mission of buying green bean buns for Mrs. Wang Xiulian, so she got up especially early, earlier than her high school morning runs.

By the time Jiang Feng got up, Mrs. Wang Xiulian had already finished her green bean buns and posted about it on social media.

After getting ready, Jiang Feng left home and took the subway to the Benevolent Doctor. Upon arrival, he headed straight to the market next to the small cafeteria, bought three pounds of broccoli without a word, then took a picture and sent it to Jiang Shoucheng to tell him he’d be coming over to cook lunch for him today.

Jiang Shoucheng’s hands trembled slightly as he held his phone, his complexion pale as if he had just finished two consecutive night shifts at the hospital.

By the time he saw his lunch today, his face would probably turn green.

Could Jiang Feng really do such an inhuman thing to his own dear second cousin, who, working as a resident doctor in the hospital, had to take night shifts, suffered from poor diet and sleep, and at times even had to act as a security guard, his weight now surpassed by Jiang Zaidi?

Jiang Feng was an honest person whose lies were only sophisticated. How could he possibly treat his beloved second cousin this way?

Jiang Feng, carrying three pounds of broccoli, went to the small kitchen and, sure enough, encountered Qian Lijuan, who was cooking soup, and Fang Zhuoyue, who was tirelessly struggling with cooking porridge.

Zhuang Lin had narrowly escaped death and was now in the convalescence period. Since her triumphant success with the carrot and beef stew, Qian Lijuan had fallen deeply in love with cooking, creating a variety of soups for Zhuang Lin every day, which were not at all tasty, and some even hard to swallow.

Fang Zhuoyue was a local whose father had just had minor surgery a few days ago and could only eat liquid foods, which was why Fang Zhuoyue insisted on struggling with cooking porridge every day.

As soon as Fang Zhuoyue saw Jiang Feng, he saw him as a savior and quickly asked for help.

“Jiang Feng, come and take a look. The porridge I’ve cooked these days looks normal and doesn’t seem burnt. But when my dad drinks it, he always says there’s a burnt taste, and I tasted it, and there was a burnt taste too. What do you think is the problem?” Fang Zhuoyue’s culinary skills were inversely proportional to his mathematical talent.

“A burnt taste? How did you cook it?” asked Jiang Feng.

“Just like you taught me, I’ve been continuously stirring the porridge,” Fang Zhuoyue replied, “It looks quite normal, but it tastes burnt when you drink it.”

After thinking for a moment, Jiang Feng guessed, “It must be that the heat was too high and the bottom got burnt, but because you kept stirring, you mixed the burnt bottom throughout, so you can’t see it, but the whole pot tastes burnt as a result.”

Fang Zhuoyue looked baffled.

“Wait a bit, I’ll help you check the fire control. Let me leave the broccoli here for you to watch; I have to go to the supermarket next to the hospital to buy some stuff,” said Jiang Feng, placing the broccoli on the table.

“No problem, you go ahead,” Fang Zhuoyue agreed without hesitation.

Jiang Feng left the small cafeteria.

There was a large supermarket near Benevolent Doctor, abundant in food materials and all kinds of seasonings, even imported ones. The only downside was that it was too expensive.

Jiang Feng was going to buy butter.

Boiling broccoli might have a nice crunchy texture, but even with added salt, it was bland, and asking Jiang Shoucheng to eat three pounds of it in one sitting was even more painful than making him learn cooking from Sir.

Jiang Feng planned to cook the three pounds of broccoli in two ways.

The first method was inspired by the process he saw yesterday when making Shafu Roast Chicken.

To fry it in butter.

Then add some other seasonings to help enrich the taste of the broccoli, hoping it might suit Jiang Shoucheng’s palate.

The second method was to try preparing the broccoli in the same way as crispy apples.

After watching a TV drama the previous night, Jiang Feng thought about it all night and couldn’t figure out what crispy apples had to do with Shafu Roast Chicken, so he decided to just go for broke and see if he could use the method for other dishes.

He had never actually made crispy apples before; he had only seen Sir make them, so he needed to experiment and find a guinea pig to test his attempt.

Jiang Shoucheng was that guinea pig.

A guinea pig with a very big appetite.