The Game of Life

Chapter 343: Chapter 342 The Taste of Home

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Noodle pulling, to some extent, can be considered as one of the most technically challenging stunts in the world of noodle preparation.

It’s not only used in noodle making; the technique of noodle pulling can also be employed to create a variety of pastries, such as clear oil cakes, silver thread rolls, and fragrant pita pastries. These moderately difficult snacks all require the enhancement of noodle pulling techniques, an indispensable part of their creation process.

The naïve Jiang Feng thought that watching Cao Guixiang pull noodles seemed easy, with the thin, long noodles emerging from her hands in just a few minutes, so he believed that noodle pulling should only be a bit harder than hand-rolled noodles and that he would be able to grasp the basics after some serious studying.

But in reality, noodle pulling is a skill that truly tests one’s fundamental abilities. For someone like Jiang Feng, who had zero experience with plain noodles and was a traditional Red Chef, trying to start with noodle pulling was definitely a path to doom, from learning the ropes to passing away.

Indeed, Jiang Jianguo was instructing Jiang Feng according to the principle of “from learning the ropes to passing away.”

As a loving uncle who cared for his nephew, Jiang Jianguo did not want to dampen Jiang Feng’s enthusiasm, as his willingness to learn was commendable. However, on the other hand, as the eldest son who was disdained by Sir and had received the most cold stares and beatings when he was younger, he couldn’t just lead Jiang Feng astray. If he really diverted the hope of the Jiang Family’s future from Red Chef to plain noodles, Sir would surely skin him alive.

Don’t assume that just because Sir is already eighty and is offered seats on buses and subways, he can’t still be vigorous in disciplining his children. Though his strength may not be what it once was, bolstered by decades of experience, his disciplinary effectiveness was in no way inferior to his younger days.

When Wu Minqi got home from work for the day, she saw Jiang Feng sprawled on the couch, a lifeless expression on his face and exuding an air of ‘I’m so tired, just let me lie here like a salted fish,’ as he watched television.

“How was your day, did you go to the hospital, or to the pharmacy? I didn’t receive the message you were supposed to send me.” Wu Minqi said, setting her stuff on the couch.

Only then did Jiang Feng remember that before Wu Minqi left, she had asked him to send her a WeChat message before going to the hospital, but he had completely forgotten after immersing himself in Zhang Chu’s memories and finishing his ‘dog food.’

“Qiqi, I’m really sorry, I forgot. I went to the community hospital this morning. The doctor gave me some medicine and said there wasn’t a problem and told me to just lie down at home,” Jiang Feng said.

“So you just lay there all day?”

“No, I’ve been downstairs all morning learning how to pull noodles with Uncle and only just came up to lie down,” Jiang Feng said, his eyes glued to the television.

“Pulling noodles?” Wu Minqi, who was also a Red Chef, thought for a moment before realizing what pulling noodles entailed, “Pulling noodles is really difficult, how did you get on today?”

How did it go…

It was probably…

Starting with mixing the dough.

“Add water, yes, saltwater first, use both hands, with force, don’t leave any dry flour in the bowl, with force!”

“With force, use more force, keep kneading, add more water, just keep kneading like that, until you achieve the three shines.”

“This dough isn’t good enough, knead it again, remember the three shines. Do you still remember which three? Hands shine, dough shines, bowl shines!”

“With force, use some strength! How can you manage with that little strength? Look, you still have dry flour at the bottom of the bowl. What’s wrong with you today, Feng? Why is your strength so limited?”

“This won’t do, try again!”

Although he took medication, it was just ordinary Western medicine, not a miracle cure; the effects weren’t immediate. Because of the lingering pain from eating spicy food, Jiang Feng had difficulty exerting his full strength while kneading, and he was too embarrassed to tell Uncle that a certain unmentionable part of his body was temporarily in discomfort, preventing him from applying full force. So, he had no choice but to persist with the kneading, and that went on for the entire day.

Yes, Jiang Feng kneaded dough for a whole day and hadn’t even started to learn how to pull noodles before Jianguo sent him home to rest.

That’s also the reason Wu Minqi saw Jiang Feng looking utterly exhausted lying on the sofa when she got home.

As for why his expression was one of utter hopelessness, that credit goes to Ji Yue.

After kneading dough for a whole day, Jiang Feng felt his body and spirit deeply wounded and decided to lie down on the couch and watch some silly idol dramas to relax. Ji Yue was an absolute expert in silly idol dramas, and with her earnest recommendation, Jiang Feng chose a certain country’s blockbuster that couldn’t be searched on network television and could only be watched through mobile projection— “Leaf fall of XX”!

That was the scene Wu Minqi encountered upon returning home.

“luoha, &￥@%&*…”

Wu Minqi’s attention was finally caught by the television after realizing that the voices coming from it were neither Chinese, nor English, Japanese, or even Korean.

“What drama is this?” Wu Minqi asked with interest as she sat down to watch the show with Jiang Feng; she hadn’t been watching many dramas lately.

Jiang Feng thought for a moment, organizing his words, “It’s a… revenge drama, I guess…”

“`

“What’s it about?”

“The male lead’s mother was indirectly killed by his own father, so he changed gender and became the female lead to return to the country for revenge,” Jiang Feng said.

Wu Minqi: ???

“Is it the revenge part now?”

“Sort of… yes, she should be taking revenge on her aunt.”

Wu Minqi: ???

“Her aunt? So, how is she taking revenge now?”

“Um, well, for now, she’s dating her uncle.”

Wu Minqi: ???

???

Her current expression could be photographed and used directly as an emoticon. No need for extra words; anyone would understand what the emoticon meant.

Wu Minqi’s view of Jiang Feng changed.

My boyfriend actually likes this stuff.

Didn’t see that coming.

“It’s not like that, this show is very popular lately, Ji Yue recommended it to me,” Jiang Feng quickly clarified. “I was just lying down, bored and not knowing what to do, I definitely wouldn’t watch this kind of drama usually!”

Seeing Jiang Feng like this, Wu Minqi stopped teasing him and said with a laugh, “I know Ji Yue recommended it to you, I watched it together with her this noon.”

“Huh?”

Jiang Feng: ???

My Qiqi actually likes this stuff?!

“The plot is actually mediocre, but the male and female leads are good-looking,” Wu Minqi objectively commented. “But speaking of which, how come you suddenly want to learn noodle pulling?”

“I was coming back from the community hospital today and ordered a plate of Zhajiang noodles from the noodle house downstairs,” Jiang Feng said.

“The noodle house downstairs? Aneng Noodle House, right? Their noodles are so-so. Mrs. Wang has been there,” Wu Minqi said.

“Not so-so, it was horrible,” Jiang Feng said, a look of not wishing to recall the past etched on his face. “Then I suddenly realized, ever since I got to Beiping, I’ve only had Zhajiang noodles twice, and each time, they weren’t authentic, they were even a bit disgusting.”

Wu Minqi silently watched him, waiting for him to continue.

“Do you still remember Chen Mengxing, our senior from the Chess Club who graduated this year, the law senior who didn’t come to the last gathering? He’s a Beiping native. When I first arrived at Beiping, I asked him where to get the most authentic and best Zhajiang noodles in Beiping. He told me that all the ones outside are the same, that only the ones made at home are the most authentic and best. Because Zhajiang noodles are the taste of home, everyone’s memory of Zhajiang noodles is the taste of the ones made by family, from childhood to adulthood. So, no matter how delicious the Zhajiang noodles made in restaurants are, they can’t compare to the authenticity of home, they’re not the flavor they want to eat or love,” Jiang Feng slowly said.

“So I want to learn. I want to make them myself, for you guys, to make the most authentic Zhajiang noodles.”

Wu Minqi laughed, a shy laugh, biting her lip, her eyes curving and sparkling with tears.

“Then let’s learn together. I’ll make them for you too, when the time comes.”

“Okay.”

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