The Game of Life TGOL

Chapter 490: Chapter 488: Home

What is home?

For most people, home is about daily necessities like firewood, rice, oil, soy sauce, vinegar and tea, but it’s also about cultural pursuits like music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, flowers, and wine. Home is a modest house, a warm little abode where one can smell the aroma of cooking upon returning.

And such was the home of Jiang Yong.

Jiang Yong had worked for the “Taste” magazine for many years. Xu Cheng treated his subordinates generously, which was why Jiang Yong, not being a local, could afford a decently located small house of about a hundred square meters with three bedrooms and two living rooms in Magic City.

Jiang Yong’s house was bought decades ago; the neighborhood was rather old, the kind waiting for demolition. Due to the old nature of the community, there was no heating, but as soon as Jiang Feng and the others arrived, they could feel the warmth and dryness of the air conditioning upon opening the door.

With the air conditioning on and no ventilation, the stale air inside was very suffocating. Jiang Weiming had just stepped in when he coughed uncomfortably and rubbed his nose.

Lin Juan, Jiang Yong’s wife, was a local from Magic City. Since marrying Jiang Yong, she had rarely met Jiang Weiming. Upon hearing the door open, Lin Juan hurried out from the kitchen with a spatula in her hand, an apron tied around her, looking every bit the housewife.

“Dad, it must have been a tough journey. This must be Feng, right? Your second uncle always talks about you at home, saying that you’re a chef with exceptional skills. Today, auntie will embarrass herself in front of you,” Lin Juan said with a smile, then turned to the inside of the house and called out, “Jiang Xiaoran, your grandpa and your cousin are here, why are you still in your room? Come out quickly!”

“Jiang Yong, take good care of Dad, and Dad, Feng, don’t just stand in the hallway, it’s cold near the door. Come in and sit on the sofa. I still have to finish cooking, it will be about ten more minutes until dinner is ready.” After speaking, Lin Juan went back to the kitchen.

“Put less seasoning,” Jiang Yong reminded, “make it light.”

“Got it.”

Jiang Yong dragged his suitcase into a room, while Jiang Feng and Jiang Weiming changed into slippers.

The house was not big but it was full of stuff. Just within the visible range of the living and dining rooms, Jiang Feng could see at least three or four cabinets, each stuffed to the brim. On top of the coffee table, the TV cabinet, and the entryway cabinet – any place that could hold items – there seemed to be no space spared. Jiang Feng even found a professional computer-related book tucked in a corner of the sofa.

After putting away his luggage, Jiang Yong came out of the room and waved at Jiang Feng, “Feng, come here for a second.”

After speaking, Jiang Yong pushed open the door of another room, “Ran, didn’t your mom just call you to come out? What are you still doing in your room? Your grandpa and your cousin are here, and you still won’t come out and greet them.”

The person in the room was a young man with a crew cut who had been tapping on a keyboard facing the computer. He stopped, somewhat reluctantly, and stood up, “Dad, I’m fixing a bug, it will be done soon. Just wait a bit more, I’ll come out soon.”

“Fixing a bug, fixing a bug, all you ever talk about is fixing bugs, but I never see you actually finish. Your grandpa and cousin have come all the way from Beiping, and it’s been such a tough journey. I have to ask you four times before you come out to meet someone. When did I ever notice you were so precious?” Jiang Yong said irritatedly, “This is your cousin Jiang Feng, your third uncle’s son.”

Jiang Xiaoran looked at Jiang Feng with an awkward expression. It’s awkward for anyone meeting their cousin whom they haven’t seen for over twenty years for the first time.

“Hello, my name is Jiang Xiaoran, I am… your cousin.”

Jiang Yong gave Jiang Xiaoran a helpless slap, “That’s not how you talk to people. Go make your grandpa a cup of tea. The tea leaves are on the cabinet.”

“Okay,” Jiang Xiaoran walked out.

Jiang Feng began to examine Jiang Xiaoran’s room, which was simply furnished with a computer desk, a bookcase, and beds. It was just unclear why there were two beds. The one against the wall was a normal single bed, while the other one looked like a temporary folding bed.

There were also quite a few boxes in the corner, one of which was open and filled with apples, probably part of the New Year’s shopping for Jiang Yong’s family.

“Your cousin works at a gaming company, he either stays in the office all the time or just holes up at home and doesn’t go out or socialize much, so he’s not very good at talking,” Jiang Yong pointed to the small folding bed, “Feng, I’m afraid we don’t have enough rooms in our house, so you’ll have to make do with this small folding bed for tonight. Because there’s no room for other stuff in here, I’ve put your luggage in the next room.”

“Thank you, Uncle, just staying one night, this is fine,” Jiang Feng said with a smile, turning his gaze to a row of figures on the computer desk.

Female Empress, various ship girls, Makise Kurisu, Hatsune Miku, Madoka Kaname.

Even if you get cucked, you’re still a master, not lacking wives.

Jiang Yong then introduced Jiang Feng to the other facilities, emphasizing the old and often malfunctioning toilet and the similarly old and occasionally faulty water heater. As the two of them exited the bathroom, they saw Jiang Xiaoran sitting stiffly next to Jiang Weiming, nervously wringing his hands and looking around everywhere but at Jiang Weiming.

To anyone who knew, he was keeping Grandpa company; to those who didn’t, it seemed as though he was on a blind date.

Although Jiang Xiaoran was Jiang Weiming’s grandson, they hadn’t seen each other in many years. Even when Jiang Weiming’s wife was still alive and Jiang Yong would take his family back to Shu for the New Year, it was just to have the New Year’s Eve dinner and stay for one night before departing.

Jiang Xiaoran and Jiang Weiming were grandfather and grandson, yet no different than strangers; Jiang Xiaoran wouldn’t even recognize Jiang Weiming as his grandpa if they brushed past each other on the street.

Jiang Feng and Jiang Yong joined the awkward silence on the couch.

Jiang Yong may seem very welcoming when receiving guests, calling out “Dad” warmly and naturally, but when it came down to sitting face-to-face and talking with Jiang Weiming, he couldn’t say a word.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

As for Jiang Feng, he definitely wouldn’t speak unless someone cued him.

The four men with the surname Jiang sat on the sofa in silence.

Dinner broke up this silence.

Though there were only five people eating, Lin Juan cooked up a whole table of good dishes because of the significance of this meal.

Stir-fried beef, steamed broccoli, dry-fried potato shreds, braised spare ribs, sweet and sour pork loin, braised shrimp, steamed pork with rice flour, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, and chicken stewed with chestnuts. All of them home-cooked dishes, rich and extravagant.

The only issue was that they looked pretty average.

Everyone had just sat down, and before they’d even reached for their chopsticks, Jiang Yong noticed something amiss at the dinner table, “Juanzi, where’s the soup?”

Having just removed her apron and barely warmed her seat, Lin Juan slapped her forehead and stood up, “Ah, I forgot! I knew something was missing while I was cooking. Wait for me, I’ll whip up some seaweed egg soup for you all.”

Jiang Weiming waved his hand with a smile, “No need, Lin Juan. You’ve already made so many dishes; it’s not easy. It’s alright if we don’t have soup.”

“Dad, how can we have a meal without soup? Making some seaweed egg soup will take less than two minutes,” Jiang Yong said.

Jiang Weiming stood up, “Lin Juan has been busy all afternoon. Let me make the soup instead.”

“How can that be right, Dad? You should rest; I’ll go do it,” Lin Juan quickly objected.

“You all rest. It’s just making some soup. Back in Beiping, I even made Roasted Pig, right, Feng?” Jiang Weiming suddenly cued Jiang Feng.

“Yes, yes, Granduncle Weiming made Roasted Pig yesterday, and his skills haven’t fallen behind at all; they’re even better now,” Jiang Feng began telling a white lie, having not tasted a bite of Roasted Pig.

Neither Jiang Yong nor Lin Juan could persuade Jiang Weiming otherwise, so they had to let him go into the kitchen to make the soup. With Jiang Weiming not at the table and not picking up his chopsticks, no one dared to pick up theirs either, quietly sitting at the dining table waiting for Jiang Weiming to finish making the soup.

“Feng, how are things going lately over in Beiping? Is the business at the store still good?” Jiang Yong was the first to break the silence.

“Pretty good. It’s just colder over there in Beiping, so you have to pay attention to keeping warm and wear more when going out. With heating indoors, there’s nothing to worry about. Thanks to ‘Taste,’ the business at the store has been booming since January, bustling every single day. We even hired three new chefs back in January,” Jiang Feng said with a smile, taking a sip of water because he felt a bit thirsty.

“It’s good that you have heating. Your aunt and I are planning to get a new house next year and have heating installed there as well,” Jiang Yong said.

As heating was mentioned, Jiang Feng noticed a concern with the air conditioning, “By the way, Uncle, Granduncle Weiming hasn’t been feeling so great lately. He was sick in January and had to rest at home for several days. When I came in just now, I saw him coughing; I guess the air from the air conditioning isn’t very comfortable for him. He definitely shouldn’t have the air conditioning blowing on him while he sleeps tonight; you’ll have to prepare a few thick quilts.”

Jiang Yong nodded continuously, making mental notes, almost wishing he could immediately take out a notebook for Jiang Feng to list everything down for him.

Jiang Weiming became the breakthrough topic for the conversation, and Jiang Feng chatted with Jiang Yong about other things related to Jiang Weiming. Lin Juan managed to insert a sentence or two occasionally, while Jiang Xiaoran couldn’t get a word in and just sat there listening to their conversation.

Before they knew it, Jiang Weiming’s soup was ready. Jiang Weiming brought the soup out from the kitchen, and Lin Juan quickly stood up to take it and carefully placed it in the center of the table.

It wasn’t seaweed egg soup.

The soup was thick and seemed to be thickened, more like a stew than a soup, with a chaotic mix of ingredients. The color wasn’t clear but somewhat murky, reminiscent of Jiang Weisheng’s bizarre-tasting soup yet not quite the same.

Jiang Feng was the first to realize that this was probably Baiwei Soup, a soup Jiang Weiming had never made in front of him.

Although Jiang Feng realized this, he didn’t say anything. After staring at the soup for a while, Jiang Yong also belatedly caught on and asked, “Dad, is this Baiwei Soup?”

“Yes, when I went into the kitchen, I saw quite a few ingredients, some of which were chopped on the cutting board and hadn’t been used, so I just put together a Baiwei Soup,” Jiang Weiming said with a smile.

Feeling somewhat apologetic after his explanation, Lin Juan hurried to clarify, “Dad, I was thinking of cooking more since there were many of us, but then I thought, with so many dishes made, we didn’t need that much, so that’s why many ingredients were left over. I was planning to put them in the fridge for stir-frying tomorrow, but in my hurry, I left them there.”

“It’s good you can gauge the amount of food when cooking. I’ve already sorted those ingredients into small bowls because I wasn’t sure what they were for, so I just put them on the counter,” Jiang Weiming said, picking up a piece of broccoli with his chopsticks.

“Dad, what is Baiwei Soup? I don’t recall ever hearing about it before,” Jiang Xiaoran asked.

“How come you never heard of it? When I took you back to our hometown before, didn’t your grandfather…” Jiang Yong stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing he had taken Jiang Xiaoran back to their hometown very few times, and it was possible that she had genuinely never tasted Baiwei Soup.

“This is your grandfather’s signature soup. When your grandfather was still at the state-owned restaurant, this soup was the most popular, and the leaders from above would specifically ask for it when they visited,” Jiang Yong said, moving on from his unfinished sentence as if it were never spoken.

“Oh,” Jiang Xiaoran, knowing well the golden rule of silence is golden when dining with elders.

Curious about the Baiwei Soup, Jiang Xiaoran didn’t reach for the dishes straight away and instead served herself a small half-bowl of soup. She was sitting next to Jiang Feng, and seeing him looking at the soup, she thought he might want some too, so she asked, “Jiang Feng… Cousin, would you like me to get you a bowl too?”

The ladle was still in Jiang Xiaoran’s hand.

“Thanks, Xiaoran, but you can just call me Feng,” Jiang Feng said with a smile, passing his bowl to Jiang Xiaoran.

As they exchanged the bowl, Jiang Feng’s hand brushed against Jiang Xiaoran’s.

“Ding.”

A system prompt suddenly sounded.

Huh?

Jiang Feng reached out again, brushing against Jiang Xiaoran’s hand.

No system prompt sounded this time.

Jiang Xiaoran: ?

“Sorry for bumping into you by accident,” Jiang Feng quickly apologized.

Jiang Xiaoran nodded and prepared to ladle some soup.