The Game of Life TGOL

Chapter 35: 35 Chapter Bitter Memories

Translator: Larbre Studio Editor: Larbre Studio

Late some time, Mr. Jiang Jiankang and Mrs. Wang Xiulian returned triumphant. Just from their demeanor, you could tell that the negotiation with the pig farm owner had been successful.

“That pig was incredible-fat in all the right places, lean where it should be. I still remember those two hind legs.” Jiang Jiankang was clearly still thinking about the pig he had seen that day.

Xiulian nodded in agreement, “Right, we’ll send one back for Dad to make ham, and chop up the other for knuckle.”

In the midst of their conversation, the couple already had clear plans for both legs of the pig.

“Mr Qian really knows how to raise pigs!” Jiang Jiankang exclaimed, eager to share the accomplishments of the day. Jiang Feng was cleaning up the kitchen, and Ji Yue was the only one outside. Seizing the opportunity, Jiang Jiankang pulled out his phone and started showing Ji Yue the photos he had taken that day.

“Ji Yue, look at this spotted pig. Just one glance and you can tell it’s been fed well, sleeps well, and is active. The meat quality must be firm; it’s perfect for stir-fry. And this sow, look at that fat, and this one, we’ll slaughter it in the morning. I’ve reserved its two hind legs, this one…” Jiang Jiankang kept swiping through his phone, displaying the pigs he had set his sights on that day.

Ji Yue:…

Other than recognizing that these were fat pigs awaiting slaughter, she couldn’t discern anything else, whether it was happiness or sadness…

“Enough already, stop staring. Your son is still cleaning the kitchen and here you are gawking at pigs. Aren’t you going to help?” Mrs. Wang Xiulian, seeing Jiang Jiankang lounging in the hall, slapped the counter in dissatisfaction, causing the wooden countertop to quiver.

Noticing that the day’s revenue was obviously not as good as yesterday’s, Xiulian raised her voice, “Have you paid off your debts? You owe so much to your elder brother, and you’re still lazing around here. Do you expect your son to pay off your debts?”

Jiang Jiankang slipped away into the kitchen, looking dejected.

Jiang Feng had actually finished cleaning up the kitchen and was trying to make pure meat wontons following a recipe from a game.

Although it was destined to be a bowl of unpalatable wontons, Jiang Feng just wanted to taste what they would turn out like.

He was especially curious to know what the most bitter memory of his youth

was like.

The wontons had been boiling in the pot for ten minutes now. Jiang Feng figured that even if the skins were thick, they should be cooked by now, or rather, overcooked.

Wang Shitou’s cooking skills were truly terrible. If it hadn’t been for the days of the Republic of China when the toiling masses lacked food and clothing and weren’t particular about taste, Feng doubted his wonton stand would have lasted a week.

“What are you doing, kid? The wontons are about to turn to mush, and you’re still not taking them out?” As soon as Jiankang came in, he saw the wontons tumbling in the pot with the soup and quickly scooped the wontons, now separated from their filling, into a bowl.

Jiang Feng added two drops of sesame oil to the bowl.

Jiankang tried to add a few slices of seaweed and a handful of tiny shrimp, but

Feng sternly refused.

Jiang Feng waited for the wontons to cool down a bit.

Jiankang eyed the wontons in the bowl, his mouth watering.

Today, in the negotiations with the pig farm’s Mr. Qian, he and Xiulian had been out since early in the morning. In the past dozen hours or so, he had only eaten three large bowls of the shredded pork noodles he made, all before they left in the morning, and he had long since digested them.

Though the wontons in the bowl were overcooked and only had two drops of sesame oil, with no enticing aroma, they were, after all, made of meat.

Jiankang was a carnivore.

“Son, did you make these wontons today?” Jiankang asked, knowing full well. Jiang Feng nodded, “I followed an online tutorial to wrap them, just made these few, and cooked them all at once.’

“Let Dad have a taste.”

jiankang’s movements were as quick as his words. Before the sentence was finished, three wontons had disappeared into his mouth.

So disgusting!

Jiankang hadn’t expected his son to make such terrible wontons.

But the next second, he lost the mood to think about that.

He suddenly remembered himself at twenty years old.

That year, the state-owned restaurant where he had worked for six years closed down.

Since he was a child, he had helped out Jiang Weiguo at the state-owned restaurant, taking over the head chef’s position at 14; at 19, he married Wang Xiulian, who was a textile factory worker at the time, and before he turned 20, he believed he would work at the state-owned restaurant all his life just like his father did, until his son would take over.

What awaited him instead was being laid off and a meager 600 yuan in compensation.

Half a year later, Wang Xiulian was also laid off.

The couple borrowed money from all their friends and relatives, scraped together a few tens of thousands of yuan, and opened a small health stir-fry restaurant.

Jiang Jiankang remembered those times when business was bad; he would worry all night long, unable to sleep. Wang Xiulian, in an attempt to save money, would pick up discarded and trampled vegetable leaves from the food market to stir-fry. If they sold stir-fried carrots at noon, they would eat the peels of those carrots at night.

Because they still hadn’t repaid the money they borrowed from her parents and older maternal uncle, Wang Xiulian dared not visit her parental home for the New Year’s celebration.

As he thought about it all, Jiang Jiankang squatted down on the ground and wailed bitterly.

“What’s wrong, what happened here? Feng, why is your dad suddenly crying?” Hearing the crying, Wang Xiulian dropped her calculator and rushed into the kitchen, followed closely by Ji Yue.

“Xiulian, Xiulian I’m sorry. It’s all my fault for being useless, making you suffer and put up with hardship following me!” Jiang Jiankang sobbed as he hugged Wang Xiulian.

Wang Xiulian was hugged with a bewildered look on her face.

“What’s happened to your dad?”

Wang Xiulian was starting to wonder if nagging him daily about the debt owed to his second brother had finally become too much pressure for Jiang Jiankang and caused him to break down.

“Dad just had a bite of wonton,” Jiang Feng was also somewhat stunned.

How bitter must the memories of Mr. Jiang Jiankang’s youth have been for him to cry like this!

“Wonton?” Wang Xiulian looked at the wonton on the table, clearly unable to understand how just a bite of wonton could lead to this.

“Jiankang, I’m just usually a nag, don’t take it to heart. I haven’t suffered or felt wronged, stop crying, come on, be good,” Wang Xiulian patted Jiang Jiankang’s back as if comforting a child.

As she coaxed him, Wang Xiulian herself started feeling somewhat choked up. She picked up the bowl from the table and took a big gulp of the wonton soup. Because the wontons had been overcooked, a piece of wonton skin was also gulped down.

Who made these wontons? They’re awful!

Wang Xiulian’s eyes widened, and the next second, her eyes brimmed with tears.

The couple clutched their heads and cried together.

Jiang Feng and Ji Yue were completely dumbfounded.

Jiang Feng picked up the wonton from the table and silently dumped it into the swill bucket.

Disaster, what a disaster!

-School sister, you should go back first, I need… I need to talk with my parents,” said Jiang Feng.

“Ah, yes, oh,” Ji Yue answered blankly, and after a while, she realized she could leave work.

After Ji Yue left, Jiang Feng put forth all his effort to finally stabilize the emotions of Mr. Jiang Jiankang and Mrs. Wang Xiulian.

The next day, the couple’s explanation for the previous night’s incident was remarkably consistent.

The wontons were too disgusting, so disgusting they cried!