THE GAME OF LIFE

Chapter 700: Chapter 699: I Have Tasted It

The kitchen staff had mostly dispersed after Jiang Feng announced that everyone would get a share of the chicken tofu flower and that the two respected elders should eat first. Everyone tactfully left to tend to their own tasks, just waiting for Jiang Feng’s call in the group chat to quickly return and start eating.

Jiang Feng was arranging the presentation for the chicken tofu flower.

Actually, chicken tofu flower doesn’t need much presentation: just scoop some tofu flower, add some clear soup, put it in an exquisite porcelain bowl, and it’s already the best presentation. But this was Jiang Feng’s first portion of chicken tofu flower, an S-level dish made on his first attempt, which was momentous, so of course, it needed to look like something most people couldn’t afford.

Even though this level of chicken tofu flower was a food most people couldn’t afford regardless of presentation.

“No, no, this won’t do. Look, the bowl is only so big. If you scoop such a large piece of tofu flower, it will take up more than half the bowl, leaving not much room for soup. It’ll look like the tofu flower is overflowing; that’s not aesthetically pleasing,” Ji Yue gestured over the porcelain bowl for a long time and felt that Jiang Feng’s idea was not feasible.

“I think Fengfeng’s idea is quite good. It’s very characteristic for the tofu flower to only have a bit of soup around the edges when filled up; there’s no need to deliberately scoop such a small piece. It’s for family, not for sale,” Wu Minqi supported Jiang Feng’s decision.

“Orchid is right. If you’re using this style of bowl for chicken tofu flower, you do need to leave extra space for soup, and you shouldn’t fill it too slowly; it’s best to leave one-third,” Zhang Guanghang said.

Jiang Feng: …

He had been holding the spoon in the air for quite a while now, unsure whether to scoop or not to scoop.

“Then I’ll change the bowl,” Jiang Feng figured it must be the bowl’s fault.

“Get a bigger one,” the three said in unison.

In the end, Jiang Feng chose a bowl of the same size as ordinary dinner bowls, looking quite ordinary and at an equally ordinary price. He filled two bowls with chicken tofu flower as per Zhang Guanghang’s suggestion, leaving one-third space.

The two bowls of plain-looking chicken tofu flower were placed on the counter, each with a small spoon beside them, continuously emitting the exquisite fragrance of top-quality clear soup.

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“I’ve realized that the chicken tofu flower looks even more like tofu flower in the bowl. No, it’s exactly like tofu flower,” Ji Yue, who had never tasted chicken tofu flower before, exclaimed naively.

“Not every chef can make chicken tofu flower like this,” explained Zhang Guanghang, and after a pause added, “As far as I know, only Grandpa Jiang and Jiang Feng can make it like this.”

“My grandpa can do it too,” Wu Minqi added. “Almost, but his chicken tofu flower is not as outstanding as his boiled cabbage in supreme broth, so he doesn’t usually make it. I’ve only seen it two or three times when regular clients specifically request it.”

Ji Yue nodded with half-understanding, staring at the pot of chicken tofu flower and salivating furiously in her mind.

Jiang Feng was a little nervous and turned to ask Wu Minqi, “Qiqi, do you think my grandpa’s mood might get a bit better after he tastes the chicken tofu flower?”

Wu Minqi nodded: “Don’t worry, Grandpa Jiang will definitely feel better after he eats.”

Sir arrived.

He was walking briskly, his breath a little short, not sweating, and he slowed down as soon as he entered the kitchen, but everyone could tell he had rushed over.

“Grandpa, you’re here!” Jiang Feng hurriedly picked up a bowl of chicken tofu flower with a spoon and presented it to Sir, “Why are you by yourself? Where’s Granduncle Weiming? Please try this. I’ve just made the chicken tofu flower, and everyone’s been waiting for you to try it first and see how it tastes.”

Sir didn’t reach out but looked closely at the chicken tofu flower in the bowl, his face expressionless but his heart full of shock.

When Jiang Weisheng had mentioned that Jiang Feng had made it, his first reaction was disbelief, but he also felt that Jiang Feng had the skill now, so he hadn’t said a word and hurried back. He had tasted the clear soup Jiang Feng made yesterday, and now he had seen the chicken tofu flower; without even needing to taste it, Sir knew it was a perfect dish.

Sir looked at Jiang Feng with complex emotions.

He had never felt so profoundly, so intensely, that his grandson had truly mastered his craft.

The student had indeed surpassed the master.

His brother was right; he might feel a little unwilling, but he was proud.

Sir took the chicken tofu flower and took a bite.

He remained silent.

Jiang Feng: ?

Why isn’t Grandpa speaking?

As Sir didn’t speak, Jiang Feng didn’t dare to ask. Everyone just quietly watched Sir eat, bite by bite, spoonful by spoonful, each spoonful mostly chicken tofu flower mixed with soup.

It wasn’t until Sir had almost finished his bowl of chicken tofu flower that Jiang Weiming arrived, late.

Unlike Sir, who had rushed over, he had taken his time returning at the same pace he’d left, after having Jiang Weisheng settle the bill. He entered just in time to see Sir’s bowl of chicken tofu flower nearly empty.

“How is it? How did Feng do?” Jiang Weiming asked.

Jiang Weiguo didn’t answer, maintaining the motion of eating as before.

“Granduncle Weiming, please try some too,” Jiang Feng offered to serve Jiang Weiming another bowl.

Jiang Weiming was about to decline when he thought it would seem disrespectful not to try Jiang Feng’s successful first attempt at chicken tofu flower, so he smiled, nodded, and accepted the chicken tofu flower.

Jiang Feng watched Jiang Weiming.

Originally, he wasn’t too concerned, but as Jiang Weiming took the bowl of chicken tofu flower and their hands touched, his heartbeat started to accelerate.

Heartbeats raced.

His heart throbbed vigorously inside his chest, beating so fast that it instantly made Jiang Feng tense up, and he even held his breath when he looked at Jiang Weiming.

Because he knew what was about to happen.

He had waited too long for this day, had given so much, and until now, he could be utterly indifferent to the lack of sensation; yet, at this juncture, he found himself inexplicably nervous.

“You did a very good job, it looks very authentic, and the timing for straining the bean curd was well-handled,” Jiang Weiming praised with a smile, extending his spoon into the bowl.

He scooped up a small spoonful of chicken-flavored bean curd.

The spoon left the small bowl.

And was brought to his mouth.

Jiang Feng felt like he was watching a movie filled with slow motion scenes, with seemingly no particularly exciting footage, yet it moved him to the point of tears.

Jiang Weiming was stunned.

It was a rarity for him to lose his composure like this; the many hardships of his youth had taught him to temper his emotions, and this restraint had become instinctive over time. Even when facing his elder son’s bitterly disappointing behavior not long ago, he hadn’t lost his composure, yet now, he had.

Jiang Weiming closed his eyes.

He was savoring the taste in his mouth.

This was the taste of chicken-flavored bean curd.

How long had it been since he last tasted this flavor?

Even Jiang Weiming himself couldn’t remember; he didn’t even recall when his sense of taste had started to deteriorate.

It might have been in his sixties, or perhaps his seventies.

Anyway, from some uncertain time, he had felt that the food he cooked seemed to taste blander. One time, after adding more salt and being reprimanded by his elder son, he realized that it wasn’t the food that had become bland but rather his sense of taste that had deteriorated.

Since then, he had never experienced a normal taste again.

But now, he tasted it.

He tasted a delicacy he hadn’t experienced for decades.

The true taste of deliciousness.

Jiang Weiming was certain that this was not some hallucination brought about by memory; this was the authentic taste of chicken-flavored bean curd, the taste it was supposed to have—neither too salty nor too bland, not insipid, it was the innate flavor of the chicken-flavored bean curd itself.

He tasted it.

Suddenly, Jiang Weiming realized that the taste of the broth from last time might not have been an illusion in his memory, either.

He could actually taste flavors again.

Not only could he taste them, but he could even perceive more than before.

What was this, a blessing in disguise?

Jiang Weiming held the chicken-flavored bean curd and stood there, dumbfounded.

“Third Bro, Third Bro?” Jiang Weiguo had finished his chicken-flavored bean curd and wanted to say something to Jiang Weiming, but he found Jiang Weiming standing there, motionless like he was in a daze.

“Ah, what’s wrong?” Jiang Weiming came back to his senses, still with the taste of the chicken-flavored bean curd lingering in his mouth.

“What do you think?” Jiang Weiguo asked.

“I think it’s very good,” Jiang Weiming smiled and nodded, “extremely good.”

As he spoke, Jiang Weiming looked towards Jiang Feng and said gently, “Feng, I tasted it, it’s very good, I’m very happy.”

“I… I am too,” Jiang Feng was so moved that he could barely speak.

He didn’t even know why he was so excited; he clearly knew the plot, yet he couldn’t help being thrilled, even feeling an urge to hug the bewildered Sir next to Jiang Weiming and shout out how great it was.

“Master, what did you just say? What did you taste?” Jiang Weisheng, who had somehow appeared at the kitchen door—perhaps just then—had heard Jiang Weiming’s words.

Completely failing to grasp the deeper meaning and unsure of what everyone was excited about, Jiang Weiguo stood there confused: ?

“I tasted it,” Jiang Weiming turned around, and said very clearly and firmly, word by word, “Just now, I tasted the flavor of the chicken-flavored bean curd. Weisheng, could you adjust that sauce you made a few days ago? I’ll taste it for you, to see if it’s all right.”

“Yes, yes!” Jiang Weisheng’s mind was in disarray, but his feet were quicker than his brain, as he hurried over to the prep station.

“This time I definitely won’t add too much garlic!”

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