Chapter 879: Extra Story Three: The Tale of Great Grandson Jiang’s Rise to Power (Part Four) Chapter 879: Extra Story Three: The Tale of Great Grandson Jiang’s Rise to Power (Part Four) When Li Cuihua’s family arrived at the Jiang Family’s home with a chicken, the Jiangs were having dinner.

It was a very simple, even sparse dinner.

As Mrs. Jiang had requested something sweet before the New Year, everyone had been drinking congee without any meat, only eight-treasure porridge. In the past couple of days, they could have some stir-fry with their porridge, but today, since the three main chefs of the family, Jiang Feng, Jiang Weiming, and Jiang Weiguo, were all tending to the broth in the kitchen, there wasn’t even any stir-fry. Jiang Feng stir-fried a pot of greens as a stopgap measure, and even the pickles were bought by Mrs. Jiang from the town a couple of days ago.

Anyone who didn’t know better might think the Jiangs had gone bankrupt seeing them eat this during the festive season.

This was the scene that greeted Li Cuihua as she walked into the Jiang family courtyard holding the chicken.

Everyone was seated in the courtyard, each with a large bowl of eight-treasure porridge sprinkled with some pickled vegetables, holding plain pickles with their chopsticks. Near the door was a small wooden table with a half pot of greens and a few plates of pickles.

It looked as miserable and bleak as could be.

Upon seeing this, a song emerged in Li Cuihua’s mind.

“Holding a corn bread in hand, with not a drop of oil in the food…”
But of course, that was just what Li Cuihua saw. In reality, every member of the Jiang Family was eating their porridge heartily, gulping it down without pause, bowl after bowl. Mr. Jiang Jiankang, who had a sweet tooth, was now on his fourth bowl of eight-treasure porridge.

The porridge from the Porridge King was not something ordinary porridge could compare with.

Most importantly, although there was no meat in the porridge, the air was filled with the aroma! They were smelling the delicious fragrance of the broth while sipping the sweet and warm eight-treasure porridge and eating the ordinary-tasting pickles that seemed to lack something if not eaten.

It was very delightful.

“Cuihua, why have you come?” Mrs. Jiang, being elderly and having a small appetite, had finished her porridge and was idling in the courtyard. She was somewhat surprised to see Li Cuihua, bringing Zhao Liang and carrying a chicken, “What are you doing with a chicken? Don’t tell me you can’t kill chickens now and brought it here for us to do it.”

Li Cuihua shoved the chicken towards Mrs. Jiang and said irritably, “I knew nothing good would come out of your mouth. It’s because you haven’t been staying in the village these past two years and don’t raise chickens at home, I saw that you were hurriedly buying a chicken the other day, so I kindly brought one over for you.”

Mrs. Jiang didn’t believe a word of Li Cuihua’s nonsense; after so many years of being faux-sisters, all they ever did was equal exchange, never taking rewards for nothing.

Mrs. Jiang was about to speak, when Grandfather Zhao Liang came along with Zhao Liang’s father, trailed by Zhao Liang’s mother, the little tail, who didn’t carry a chicken but brought a bag of sunflower seeds.

Mrs. Jiang: ?

What’s the occasion today? Is the neighboring family collectively giving out warmth?

The Zhao Family Members, after arriving and realizing everyone was just drinking porridge, were somewhat disappointed, but still performed their courteous acts. Eventually, Mrs. Jiang accepted the two fat hens and a pound of sunflower seeds.

Just when the Zhao Family were about to take their loss and go home for dinner, Mrs. Jiang finally found her conscience and warmly called out, “Oh, have you eaten yet? Feng made two big pots of porridge today, and there should still be some left in the kitchen. Do you want to stay for dinner with us?”

Li Cuihua thought, who would crave your eight-treasure porridge? Doesn’t everyone have it at home? What she wanted to taste was the chicken soup simmering in the kitchen, uncertain of what it actually was.

Li Cuihua was about to refuse and go home for dinner, but Zhao Liang immediately betrayed her on the spot, promptly accepting the offer, “Thank you, Mrs. Jiang. We went shopping for New Year’s goods this afternoon, just got home, and my grandma hasn’t started cooking yet.”

Li Cuihua: ?

“You had the nerve to say something about me the day before yesterday, saying how it’s already New Year’s Eve tomorrow and you’re only buying New Year’s goods today, no wonder there’s no dinner ready tonight,” Mrs. Jiang said helplessly as she went into the kitchen to scoop porridge for Li Cuihua’s family.

Two minutes later, Li Cuihua’s family blended in with the Jiangs, circling around the greens, slurping their porridge louder than the Jiang Family Members.

“Grandma, why does the eight-treasure porridge from Mrs. Jiang’s family taste so different from what we make at home?” After slurping down a bowl, Zhao Liang made a sound that suggested he wished he could be reborn.

Li Cuihua glanced at her grandson, feeling for the first time that the Jiang Family had the right idea about raising kids: spare the rod and spoil the child. Look at this brat; he surely hadn’t been disciplined enough as a child, daring to speak such outrageous things now.

“Your Mrs. Jiang’s grandson can make porridge, and I have a grandson too. How come I never get to drink any?”

Zhao Liang: …
Zhao Liang’s father gulped down his porridge, secretly relieved in his heart that he was a son.

While they were still eating, Jiang Feng came out of the kitchen.

Jiang Feng, Jiang Weiming, and Jiang Weiguo had been busy in the kitchen all day, getting up early to make a high broth and a clear soup, both of which were nearly done except for the finishing touches. Now they started to process the ingredients and side dishes that needed to be prepared a day in advance. Although Jiang Feng wasn’t very good at cooking pork dishes, a New Year’s Eve dinner at the Jiang’s without a few pork dishes was still not acceptable.

After considering which dishes he was good at, Jiang Feng decided to make only crabmeat lion’s head and steamed pork belly with preserved mustard greens. To make the latter dish, high-quality Wuhua pork was needed. Having nothing better to do, Feng also fried some pork cracklings.

The three chefs took nearly half of the bowl in the kitchen and left a small half-pot, which Jiang Feng brought out for the Jiang Family Members who were still drinking porridge, to eat as a side dish. As soon as he came out of the kitchen, he ran into Mr. Jiang Jiankang, who was about to go in for his fifth bowl of porridge.

“Dad, you want another bowl, right? Perfect timing; I’ve got some freshly fried pork cracklings here, I’ll pour you some.” After that, Jiang Feng poured almost half a bowl of pork cracklings for Jiang Jiankang, who chuckled and munched on them as he went into the kitchen.

Zhao Liang’s father watched with envy, shedding tears of admiration in his heart.

How come Jiankang’s life is so good? Not only was he better at choosing where to be born, but also at having children.

Being born with a good father was enough to make anyone envious, and now he also has a good son.

“Liangliang.” Zhao Liang’s father looked at Zhao Liang and sighed deeply.

Zhao Liang: ???

After the Zhao family members returned home, they savored the memory of the porridge for several hours, with their mouths occasionally smacking in reminiscence of the eight-treasure porridge’s flavor even as they went to bed.

This relishing continued until the Jiang family’s kitchen fire was extinguished, and all the prepared ingredients were stored in the refrigerator. Only when the scents were no longer perceptible did their reminiscence come to an end.

The Zhao family members could then tranquilly enter the land of dreams, where they continued to enjoy the eight-treasure porridge and even fantasize about the broth they still had no clue about but which must have tasted delectable.

Early the next morning, Zhao Liang was awakened by the aroma of food.

It wasn’t the scent of the broth they had smelled all day yesterday; it was something even more fragrant, more savory, and more tangible–you could nearly discern what was being cooked.

There was the scent of chicken soup, but it was more than just that.

Zhao Liang, without even changing his clothes and still in his thermal underwear, bounced out of bed and dashed to the kitchen, his face full of anticipation.

“Grandma, are you stewing…” Zhao Liang rushed into the kitchen only to find Li Cuihua still in the midst of killing a chicken with a displeased look on her face.

The aroma was, yet again, wafting over from next door, not their own kitchen.

“Put some clothes on; running around barely dressed so early in the morning, aren’t you afraid of catching a cold.”

“Oh.”

Zhao Liang had just gone back to his room to dress and was about to wash up when he heard someone knocking at the door. He hurriedly opened it to find Jiang Feng.

Jiang Feng was holding a small soup bowl covered with a lid.

“Ah, Zhao Liang, you’re actually awake. That’s quite early. I thought for sure you’d be asleep,” Jiang Feng said, a bit surprised to see Zhao Liang answering the door.

Zhao Liang, embarrassed to admit he woke up to the smell, scratched his head and stepped aside to let Jiang Feng in: “I just got up. My parents haven’t woken up yet, and my grandma is still slaughtering chickens for breakfast, which she hasn’t made yet.”

“We’re also having breakfast at our place. It’s my first time managing the New Year’s meal and I didn’t quite get the quantities right, so I made too much. I thought you guys might not have eaten yet, so I brought some over,” said Jiang Feng as he placed the soup bowl on the table. “This is chicken tofu pudding. It’s more of a side dish; you’d better ask your grandma to cook some noodles to go with it, and make sure to cook enough, or it won’t be sufficient.”

In fact, it wasn’t that Jiang Feng had made too much. How could chicken tofu pudding ever be too much? If you spoke of overeating, Mr. Jiang Jiankang’s stomach would be the first to disagree.

Jiang Feng originally planned to serve the chicken tofu pudding as one of the dishes for the New Year’s Eve dinner. However, after counting the number of dishes and realizing that nineteen wasn’t as auspicious as eighteen, and not wanting to remove any cold dishes as they were perennial favorites, he decided to move the chicken tofu pudding to breakfast instead.

Chicken tofu pudding paired with tomato and egg noodles offers a unique breakfast experience.

As for the half bowl left over, Jiang Feng indeed hadn’t managed the portions well. After everyone had a bowl, there was still so much left. It could have been split equally, but Mrs. Jiang remembered the Zhao family had brought over two hens the day before. She felt that a few bowls of porridge weren’t an equitable exchange for a year’s worth of raising such plump hens, violating the many years of fair trade between the “Plastic Sisters.” Thus, she had Jiang Feng take the remaining chicken tofu pudding to the neighbors, so they too could enjoy the Jiang family’s traditional New Year’s Eve breakfast.

“Your family is having tofu pudding so early in the morning? Is that filling enough?” Zhao Liang, like many other ordinary residents of Z city, had no idea what chicken tofu pudding was and assumed it was just tofu pudding.

“There’s tomato and egg noodles too. Today I’ve got to prepare for the New Year’s Eve dinner, and there’s a lot to do, so I can’t stay and chat. Remember to bring the soup bowl back later; we’re short on bowls at home,” Jiang Feng said as he was about to leave after dropping off the chicken tofu pudding.

“Sure, do you want me to bring a couple more bowls when I return this one? We have plenty of bowls at home,” Zhao Liang said, thinking that the one thing their kitchen had to offer was an abundance of bowls.

“Sure, bring two large ones, the kind that are like basins. And if you have a lot of plates to spare, bring those over too,” replied Jiang Feng, nodding.

“Wow, how many dishes are you planning to make for New Year’s Eve?”

“Eighteen, as you know. Our New Year’s Eve dinner is spread over two tables, so that makes thirty-six dishes.”

“Wow.” Zhao Liang could only exclaim in awe.

After Jiang Feng had left, Li Cuihua came out of the kitchen and upon seeing an additional soup bowl on the table, realized someone had come by.

“Did someone just come by? I heard some noise and thought your parents were up. Who brought this over?” asked Li Cuihua, pointing at the soup bowl.

“Just now Jiang Feng brought it over. He said it was extra tofu pudding from their breakfast and brought it to let us have a taste,” Zhao Liang explained. “Also, apparently they are short on basins and plates this year, so grandma, later you can tell me which plates we won’t be needing, and I’ll take them over along with this soup bowl.”

“All the ones in the cabinet aren’t needed; just take a few over,” said Li Cuihua, nonchalant, walking over to the soup bowl to lift the lid and see. “Eating tofu pudding so early in the morning? Isn’t it better to have some porridge or noodles? Maybe in Beiping they have tofu pudding for breakfast, and they’ve gotten used to it over the last couple years.”

Lifting the lid…

A delicious fragrance filled the air.

This was the very scent that had awakened Zhao Liang in the morning.

Zhao Liang and Li Cuihua were stunned.

Because to them, what was in the soup bowl seemed to be just an ordinary tofu pudding sans sugar. But the aroma emanating from the bowl was clearly informing them that this was anything but an ordinary tofu pudding.

“Liangliang, what did you say Feng brought over just now?” Li Cuihua began to question her life.

“Tofu… tofu pudding maybe?” Zhao Liang also wasn’t sure.

Li Cuihua pointed at the chicken tofu pudding in the soup bowl, took a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly.

“You call this tofu pudding?”