The Game of Life

Mrs. Jiang walked over to the steamer of stuffed oranges with crab meat, found a cloth to wrap around her hand, and picked up the steamer. She felt the temperature inside and lifted the lid to check on the oranges stuffed with crab meat. Although she couldn’t see anything specifically amiss, she still couldn’t help but sigh.

“This child, what kind of cooking is this? Is this what he calls simmering? If everyone cooked this way, it would be such a waste.”

Jiang Feng, unaware of the simmering master Mrs. Jiang’s criticism of his cooking method, carried a pancake with scallions to the hall that was arranged with tables and chairs.

Carrying the dishes from a distance, as Jiang Feng looked at the hall, he seemed to experience a sense of déjà vu, as if he had seen this scene somewhere before.

It was in Li Mingyi’s memory!

The memory of the New Year’s Eve dinner where he had sweet and sour yam, the dining hall of the Li Family’s New Year’s Eve dinner looked almost identical to this one, except that there was one less table, and some minor changes to the surrounding scenery; everything else was the same. However, the New Year’s Eve dinner Jiang Feng saw in his memory was held at night, the sky was dark, and the light inside the hall was dim, the hall was brightly lit with everyone laughing and talking, while outside it was pitch black and desolately quiet.

What Jiang Feng didn’t know was that the hall he now stood in was the very one he had seen in those memories.

The year Li Mingyi and Jiang Huiqin returned to the country, they saw that the Li Mansion was in disrepair, so they demolished and rebuilt it on the foundation of the original mansion. They discarded most of the side rooms, storage rooms, and servants’ quarters, significantly reducing the footprint of the Li Mansion, but they left this part untouched and didn’t rebuild it.

This was the Li Family’s banquet hall.

His oldest sister’s wedding banquet, his second sister’s wedding banquet, his own wedding banquet, even his grandmother’s birthday banquet, and the New Year’s Eve dinners had all been held here, year after year. This place harbored a plethora of memories and laughter for Li Mingyi and Jiang Huiqin, some genuine, some artificial, some heartfelt, some obligatory. Even for Li Mingyi back then, most of the people who had left him with fond memories here had long passed away, but he couldn’t bear to let this place disappear.

So, he chose to have craftsmen restore it and stored all the tables and chairs in a warehouse.

He hoped that one day, it would be as lively as it used to be, even if he was not fortunate enough to witness it again.

“When I was little, we used to have our New Year’s Eve dinner in that dining room,” Professor Li said, sitting in the living room chatting with the two elderly gents, “Back then, my mom and my brother were still around, and there were just four of us. Eating in such a big dining room late at night, I always felt it was a bit eerie.”

“If my dad were still here, he would probably be very happy to see the dining room so lively,” murmured Professor Li.

“Your uncle would definitely be happy; he always loved a lively atmosphere,” said Jiang Weiming, smiling.

…

After setting the pancake down on the table, Jiang Feng ran outside to pick up takeout. The delivery guy waited outside on the familiar little blue scooter. Inside a large paper bag were three portions of mooncakes, which were still warm, their plain packaging a stark contrast to their boxed price.

Jiang Feng, carrying the mooncakes, bumped into Mrs. Wang Xiulian who was eating grapes.

“Mom, can you help me arrange these mooncakes on a plate and put them on the table? I have more dishes to prepare in the kitchen; remember to save a fresh pork mooncake for Xiaxia,” Jiang Feng handed the mooncakes to Mrs. Wang Xiulian.

“Got it,” Mrs. Wang Xiulian said as she took the mooncakes, casually taking one out of the bag and popping it into her mouth.

Her movements were smooth and effortless.

Jiang Feng returned to the kitchen and found that Mrs. Jiang had already turned the burner under his steamer to medium heat.

Startled, Jiang Feng quickly turned down the flame.

“Grandma, why did you turn it to medium heat?”

“What’s wrong with medium heat if you’re simmering?” Mrs. Jiang flipped over a pancake in a pan and turned off the heat.

A true master of fuel efficiency, even with a gas stove, even when making pancakes, would finish the last step by simmering.

“Huh?” Jiang Feng was stunned.

“Isn’t simmering just like this, saving fuel, and only then you turn off the fire?” Mrs. Jiang looked puzzled.

“But I need to maintain a low temperature to simmer.”

“Then just gradually reduce the heat until you turn it off at the end.” When it came to simmering, Mrs. Jiang was the authority.

Mrs. Jiang examined the pancake in the pan, flipped it again, and covered it with a lid.

“Turning off the heat is called simmering. What you’re doing, turning it on and off, how is that simmering? Don’t tell me lighting the stove doesn’t waste fuel?” Mrs. Jiang always believed simmering was about saving fuel, and any method of simmering not aimed at conserving fuel was not true simmering but a counterfeit.

Jiang Feng was taken aback.

He seemed to have grasped the essence of simmering.

Saving fuel!

Yes, that was it. Simmering was about saving fuel, so naturally, it was whatever conserved fuel the most.

A true efficiency expert, in just a few words, could enlighten those who wasted fuel.

He wanted low temperature, he wanted time and a lower temperature so that without destroying the natural sweetness of the oranges, he could fuse the fragrance and taste of the oranges with the crab meat. It was entirely possible to first boil the water with high heat, then raise the temperature inside the pot, before placing the stuffed crabs inside, shifting to medium heat, then to low heat, and finally turning it off.

Gradually reducing the flame, the temperature inside the pot would also drop little by little. There was no need to maintain a low temperature; all that was required was to let it cool down slowly, as one would when simmering rice in a clay stove.

Jiang Feng even thought about remaking a batch of oranges stuffed with crab meat from the beginning.

It was just a pity that time did not allow it.

Just as Jiang Feng regretted his actions, Mrs. Jiang’s pancake was ready.

“How much longer for your orange stuffed with crab?” Mrs. Jiang asked, holding out the pancake.

“A few minutes should do it.” Jiang Feng had already given up on the pot of orange stuffed with crab in front of him. After being repeatedly heated and re-heated, not to mention a period over medium heat, he estimated that the taste was probably far from ideal.

Seven minutes later, the orange stuffed with crab was ready, and the Mid-Autumn feast began.

By the time Jiang Feng brought out the orange stuffed with crab, everyone was already seated at the table, waiting for Jiang Weiming to slice the roasted pig.

The roasted pig, made by Jiang Weiming himself, had to be carved by him to truly capture its essence.

Actually, the main reason was that Jiang Weiming was the most skilled. With his expert cleaver work, he could precisely separate each part of the pig. The deliciousness of roasted pig sliced by a top chef with sashimi skills was not just slightly enhanced.

As Jiang Feng brought the orange stuffed with crab to the table, Jiang Weiming’s knife also made its first cut into the roasted pig.

One cut, two cuts, three cuts…

Then squeezed a bit of lime juice over it.

Soon, two nearly identical portions of roasted pig were ready, with the pig’s head being left for the elders’ table. Jiang Zaidi, as the eldest among the younger generation, eagerly went to carry the roasted pig. If it had been possible, he would have even used his chopsticks to carry it.

After all, while he was carrying it, the roasted pig was in his hands; but once it was on the table, it was uncertain whose mouth it would end up in.

Ji Xia sat between Jiang Junlian and Jiang Junqing.

In the past, it was always Jiang Feng who sat in this coveted seat between his two cousins. Now it was Ji Xia’s turn, while Jiang Feng could only sit beside Wu Minqi and Jiang Shoucheng, reflecting on how he truly had taken on a good apprentice.

A good apprentice who helps alleviate their master’s worries.

At the moment, Jiang Feng’s good apprentice was feeling a bit full.

Ji Xia had eaten four ham mooncakes, filling her stomach with substantial amounts of meat and pastry, and now she felt about eighty percent full.

But she could still eat two bites of the roasted pig!

Ji Xia eyed the piece of roasted pig in Jiang Zaidi’s hand, already determined which piece she would grab later.

She had to be fast when reaching for it, precise in her target, undistracted, and ideally successful in one try.

Ji Xia had mentally rehearsed many times how to compete for food with her uncles during a meal.

“Here, Xiaxia, have a mooncake. This is a fresh meat mooncake. It’s best eaten while hot.” Jiang Feng remembered that Ji Xia wanted to eat mooncakes, so he picked one up for her.

Ji Xia took the mooncake, biting into it with a large chunk.

Delicious.

Flaky.

Meaty.

Just a bit too filling.

“Burp.” Ji Xia let out a burp.

Jiang Junlian: ???

“Xiaxia, are you full?” Jiang Junlian asked, astonished.

“Burp, seems like it.” Ji Xia bit into the mooncake again, confirming her fullness, “I’m full.”

“Did you eat something earlier?” Jiang Junlian, who had eaten four ham mooncakes with Ji Xia, couldn’t understand why Xiaxia got full so quickly, “Didn’t you have lunch?”

“I only ate those four mooncakes, and then I had breakfast a little after 7 a.m.” Ji Xia said, quite curious herself, “Aren’t you full?”

“How could I be full? It’s just four mooncakes, they’re like a pre-meal snack.” Seeing the roasted pig finally served, Jiang Junlian quickly and precisely snatched a good piece for herself, “You probably just ate too quickly. Drink some water and you’ll feel better. Here, I’ll give you this piece of meat.”

Jiang Junlian generously shared the piece of roasted pig she had just grabbed with Ji Xia, then dove back into the fray, seizing a choice piece from under Jiang Feng’s chopsticks.

Jiang Feng, who lost his beloved piece of meat: ???

Didn’t Jiang Junlian just grab herself a piece? Is it gone already?

Jiang Feng looked up and saw that the piece of meat Jiang Junlian had initially grabbed had ended up in Ji Xia’s bowl. He was torn between emotions, not sure whether to bemoan the fact that his cousin had grown up and learned to share with others or to grieve that his cousin’s maturity meant the loss of his coveted piece of meat.

“When did Junlian and Xiaxia become so close?” Jiang Feng inquired.

“Maybe because they are close in age,” Wu Minqi suggested, “Junlian was talking with Xiaxia the whole time earlier. It’s nice for Xiaxia to have someone her age to befriend here, to play with Junlian and the others.”

Jiang Feng nodded.

It would be even better if they didn’t snatch the meat he was eyeing.

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