The Game of Life TGOL

Chapter 37: Chapter 37 Special Era (Part 2)

Translator: Larbre Studio Editor: Larbre Studio

Because of the fire, Jiang Huiqin’s originally stiff and slow movements sped up a bit. She huddled like a squirrel and counted and recounted the treasures she had found in the trash heap, checking them over seven or eight times before she was finally satisfied and slowly got up.

Yesterday, they snatched away those two good pieces of wood and were so pleased with themselves, a bunch of fools. I deliberately left them there for the taking. They can’t recognize a good thing when it’s right in front of them.” Jiang Huiqin put the tremella mushrooms into the clay pot, and with difficulty climbed over the mountain of trash, moving as slowly as an old lady.

“What’s wrong with your back?” Li Mingyi spotted something amiss and became anxious, “Did they push you and injure you this morning?”

“I’m not an old lady, how could I get hurt just by being pushed? I fell last night when I snuck out to climb trees and snatch bird eggs. How else do you think I got those six eggs, they fell from the sky or what?” Jiang Huiqin said nonchalantly, rubbing her waist with her right hand, “I’ll be fine after lying down for a while.”

“Don’t talk about me, you haven’t fully recovered yourself. Why worry about me? Pull the blanket up; your feet are uncovered.”

Jiang Huiqin walked to a stack of damp and rotting wood, kicked it aside with her foot, rummaged through it, and pulled out a few pieces.

On those pieces of wood were several extremely plump mushrooms. After picking off a few large ones, Jiang Huiqin hid them in the clay pot and left the shed.

Before long, Jiang Huiqin returned with the clay pot filled with water, the cleaned mushrooms, and the tremella mushrooms.

Because of the water, her already oozing and cracked hands began to bleed.

Noticing the bleeding, Jiang Huiqin quietly wiped it on her body when Li Mmgyi wasn’t looking since her clothes were already so dirty that their original color couldn’t be discerned, and a few more smears of blood wouldn’t make any difference.

Jiang Huiqin began to cook mushroom soup over the fire.

Soon, the aroma of the soup began to waft through the air. Jiang Huiqin begrudgingly added a pinch of salt to the soup, picked up the clay pot, and said, “I’m going to trade some mushroom soup with Chen Carpenter for a bowl and a spoon.”

We have a spoon; I hid it under the wooden frame the day before yesterday,” Li Mingyi said, pointing to the wood supporting the shed.

Perfect, we can spare him two mushrooms and have one each,” Jiang Huiqin said delightedly, thinking they could save two mushrooms.

Soon, Jiang Huiqin returned with a half-pot of soup left in the clay pot, a wooden bowl, and a pair of wooden chopsticks, with only one lonely mushroom floating in the pot.

“There’s nothing tasty about just one mushroom, and I don’t even like them. You don’t know how to use a spoon, and you might spill the good stuff on the ground. Here, eat the mushroom first.” Jiang Huiqin placed the clay pot back on the fire, picked up the mushroom with chopsticks, and brought it to Li Mingyi’s mouth.

Li Mingyi didn’t open his mouth.

“Eat it, I don’t like mushrooms,” Li Mingyi turned his head away.

“If you don’t eat it, I’ll throw it away!” Jiang Huiqin threatened. “Mushrooms are nutritious. Eating mushrooms will help your injury heal faster. Your leg has been hurt for over a month now. Eating mushrooms will speed up your recovery.”

Seeing that Li Mmgyi still refused to eat, Jiang Huiqin stuffed the mushroom into his mouth.

It was simple and crude but very effective.

Next, she began to cook the tremella mushrooms in the mushroom soup, stirring occasionally with the chopsticks, until they softened. Then she generously sprinkled a small packet of seasoning into it and added the bird eggs to cook.

When the last pot of hodgepodge was finished, Jiang Huiqin placed the tremella in the center of the bowl and arranged the peeled bird eggs next to the tremella. She then carefully lifted the clay pot to pour the soup along the rim of the bowl.

Li Mingyi began to realize what kind of odd mix she was concocting.

“You’re making a dish like clear soup with willow leaves and swallow vegetables,” he said.

What dish is that? This is it!” Jiang Huiqin then took out a box of luncheon meat, shaking it boastfully in front of Li Mingyi, opened it, and sliced a few thin pieces of meat to wrap around the bird eggs.

You must think I’m a fool. I traded Old Fengxiang’s gold bracelet for just a piece of tremella, and I also got this, never opened!” she said cautiously, wrapping the tin can with cloth and hiding it back in the trash heap. “The rich have their way of eating, the poor have theirs. With the same ingredients, even my brother might not make it as good as I do.”

“Just keep bragging,” Li Mingyi laughed.

Jiang Huiqin helped Li Mingyi sit up and handed him the bowl as if offering a treasure: “Try it.”

Li Mmgyi picked up a piece of tremella and tried to feed it to Jiang Huiqin.

“Why would I eat that on your birthday? There was still some bran left this morning; I’ll boil the bran later,” Jiang Huiqin said, starting to climb over the trash heap again.

In the end, Jiang Huiqin still ate a bird egg.

No sooner had she put it in her mouth than her eyes reddened, and being in her forties, she cried just like she had in her teens, the tears falling down instantly.

I ve made it really delicious.” Jiang Huiqin covered her mouth, trying to wipe away her tears discreetly.

Yes, this is the tastiest clear soup willow leaf swan dish I’ve ever had.” Li Mingyi said, holding his bowl with reddened eyes as well.

Jiang Feng had been watching silently by the side, and his eyes turned red unconsciously.

“Cry for what? I’ll make it for you again on your birthday next year.”

But there was no next year for Jiang Huiqin, who died of illness that winter.

Darkness enveloped everything.

Jiang Feng sat dazedly in the chair.

Li Mingyi’s memory was very short; Jiang Feng had been inside for at most four hours, but it was unbearably oppressive.

Even before Jiang Huiqin spoke, the air itself exuded despair.

In such a suffocating space, under a desperate atmosphere, Jiang Huiqin could still joke and scold, truly earning Jiang Feng’s genuine admiration.

After sitting quietly for a while and calming his emotions, Jiang Feng opened the attribute panel.

As expected, a new item had been added to the recipe list.

[Clear Soup Willow Leaf Swan Dish (Imitation) E-grade][ImprovableJ:

Creator: Jiang Huiqin

Dish Details: A dish with poor ingredient pairing and seasoning, yet made precious by Jiang Huiqin’s outstanding culinary skills and a special environment, became a ray of light in the darkest moment of Li Mingyi’s life, sustaining his will to live on. No special bonuses.

Can be made once a day. (0/1)

Improvable?

What does this mean?

Does it let me freely enhance the dish during preparation to make it more delicious?

Jiang Feng was somewhat unsure.

The rating of this dish was about the same as Wang Shitou’s pure meat wontons, but Wang Shitou’s wontons tasted bad because of his own lack of skill, while Jiang Huiqin’s clear soup willow leaf swan dish was limited by the ingredients and the environment, a fundamental difference between the two.

If he were to improve it, the possibilities were extensive.

If major changes were made, everything could be altered, potentially transforming it into the original version of the clear soup willow leaf swan dish.

But Jiang Feng knew that wasn’t what the game intended.

How should he improve it?

Ingredients? Seasoning? Or fire control?

The game’s stipulation that he could only make it once a day made Jiang Feng feel it would probably be New Year’s Day by the time he succeeded in improving the dish.

It could be this New Year’s Day or the next.

In the final memory, Li Mingyi said it was the tastiest clear soup willow leaf swan dish he had ever eaten—a hint served on a platter. And talk about a sly game; the task details said it was the clear soup willow leaf swan dish by Taifeng Building’s head chef Jiang Chengde that was unforgettable, yet the task required Li Mingyi to taste the dish from his memory.

Without this memory, Jiang Feng would certainly have been misled into trying

all means to recreate the original clear soup willow leaf swan dish.

Following Jiang Huiqin’s original method was impossible; not to mention anything else, Jiang Feng didn’t have the skill to stuff food into a trash heap, hide it for days, and then cook with it.

The old master’s age was advanced, and his stomach couldn’t handle it.

Jiang Feng opened the video tutorial that followed and started to study how a credible improvement could be made..