Phone

At Comrade Jiang Jiankang's enthusiastic urging, everyone from the Chess Club stayed at the shop for dinner.

After dinner, Liu Qian stared wistfully at the large platter that had held the braised pork knuckle. Not even a drop of sauce remained; she had used it to soak her rice, leaving it as smooth and spotless as if it had been licked clean. With tears in her eyes, she said, "When I have money, I'm going to eat pork knuckles every day!"

What a grand ambition.

That evening, Liu Qian had completely let herself go and displayed her true strength, eating six bowls of rice in a row without the slightest restraint.

"Qianqian, do you usually eat like this at school too?" He Jiahui asked, rubbing her stomach. She had lost control and eaten an extra half bowl of rice just now, and she was painfully stuffed.

"No, I usually only eat four bowls of rice," Liu Qian said.

Everyone: ...

"Good appetite, good appetite!" Jiang Jiankang praised cheerfully.

Comrade Wang Xiulian's eyes lit up when she heard Liu Qian's words. "This girl is wonderful—soft-spoken, a good eater, and she has a great figure too!"

Jiang Feng: ???

Why did Comrade Wang Xiulian's choice of adjectives sound so familiar?

Wait, Mother's Wish!

Comrade Wang Xiulian, snap out of it!

Everyone went over their respective tasks again. The club recruitment event was the day after tomorrow, and everyone had a heavy responsibility. It was getting late, so they all went home.

"Dad, has Uncle been busy lately?" Jiang Feng asked as he went to the storage room to get flour.

"Your uncle hasn't gotten any business in two months. What could he possibly be busy with?" Sure enough, brothers were brothers—Jiang Jiankang went straight for the knife.

Jiang Feng nodded and took out his phone to call Comrade Jiang Jianguo.

"Hello, Xiaofeng! What made you call me?" The sound of a noisy television came from the other end. A woman was crying, while an evil mother-in-law shouted curses. It sounded like Auntie's favorite annual family melodrama.

"Uncle, how has business been lately?" Jiang Feng asked politely.

"Business has been great! You know your uncle's skills, don't you? Top-notch! I've been so busy every day that I can barely keep up!" Jiang Jianguo bragged loudly.

Jiang Feng: ...

"Here's the thing. Grandpa is coming to A City next week. Since you're busy, I'll just ask Fourth Uncle instead."

"Not busy, not busy! I'm the eldest son, so it's only right that I take care of the old man. Otherwise, people will say I'm unfilial. Xiaofeng, don't trouble your Fourth Uncle's family. They run a pet shop and are busy cleaning up after cats and dogs every day—not very sanitary either. Your uncle's house is big, and the old man will be more comfortable there. He should stay at my place! Tell him that—he should stay at my place!" Jiang Jianguo fired off the words like a cannon, roaring them all out in one breath.

"Wasn't your business keeping you busy, Uncle?"

"Busy with what? How could running a shop be more important than taking care of the old man? Your uncle will close the shop tomorrow! Just tell your grandpa that my home is always open to him! He can stay as long as he wants—preferably forever!"

The reason Jiang Feng had to make the call was that, among the Jiang Family's five brothers, Jiang Jianguo had actually possessed the greatest talent for cooking. However, his heart had never been in the culinary arts, so the old man could only let him become a tailor.

Then, in order to pursue Auntie, Jiang Jianguo picked up cooking again and became extraordinarily skilled at making pastries. The old man had thought he wanted to become a chef after all, and happily taught him everything he knew. But after Jiang Jianguo won Auntie over, he stopped learning to cook and went back to being his third-rate tailor. It angered the old man so much that he swore he would never contact Jiang Jianguo again unless Jiang Jianguo came to him voluntarily to be scolded.

"Um, Uncle, I'd like to ask you for a favor." Jiang Feng finally got to the point.

"What favor? As long as your uncle can do it, I'll absolutely help." Hearing that the old man was coming to A City, Jiang Jianguo agreed readily, his heart brimming with delight.

Getting scolded every day was no big deal. The old man's arrival meant their food would instantly go from pig slop to a full imperial feast.

Even if the old man disliked him, he couldn't let Third Brother, Fourth Brother, Fifth Brother, and Xiaofeng go hungry, could he?

The more Jiang Jianguo thought about it, the happier he became. Even the melodramatic family drama playing on television seemed unusually captivating.

Look at that woman—when she was thrown out of the house, she cried so heartbreakingly that no tears came out anymore, and she could only wail dryly.

"It's not anything difficult. Our school is holding club recruitment next Monday, and I'd like to ask you to make some pastries to attract new students," Jiang Feng said.

"That's easy. Your uncle will go to your shop tomorrow and help you make them. Tell me, what kind do you want?" Jiang Jianguo said grandly.

"About twenty different kinds, with more than a hundred of each."

"Huh?"

Jiang Jianguo: ???

Say that again???

Jiang Feng quickly hung up and began kneading dough.

What he had just said was obviously a joke.

More than two thousand pastries—he couldn't make that many even if he squeezed every bit of fat out of Comrade Jiang Jianguo's 270-pound body.

Jiang Feng decided to knead twenty pounds of flour first, then put it in the Preservation Box.

The Preservation Box—he had disliked it so much before, but now he was going to love it just as much.

It could keep ingredients in a state where they never changed at all. It was practically a chef's divine tool.

Jiang Feng hummed a little tune as he kneaded the dough.

At Monday's recruitment event, my Chess Club will leave your Home Economics Club with no one to recruit and nowhere to go!

That's what you get for refusing to recruit boys in the first place. Gender discrimination.

As he thought about it, he could not help laughing out loud.

Jiang Jianguo stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Jiang Feng knead dough with a serious expression one moment and a foolish grin the next. He could not help rubbing his shiny bald head.

What had gotten into his son? He was kneading dough and grinning like an idiot in the middle of the night.

Could he be hinting that it was time to make plain noodle soup tomorrow?