The Game of Life

Because they didn’t know where they had offended Sir, Jiang Jiandang and Jiang Jiankang didn’t dare to make a sound and carefully put the freshly caught fathead carp into a basin, thinking of slipping away.

Jiang Weiguo, who was neither blind nor deaf, immediately noticed the two sons, each well over two hundred pounds, entering the kitchen. He turned around and caught them in the act.

“What are you doing?” Sir asked.

It was a challenge that didn’t have to be voiced for Jiang Jiankang and Jiang Jiandang. Jiang Jiandang cautiously said, “Third brother and I just caught these fish, delivering fish.’¹

The nearly thirty-pound fathead carp, flapping its short tail in a dry basin, struggled and splashed, making the iron basin clatter loudly. Such a large fathead carp must have hidden under the pond for a long time to reach this size, living a life of barely scraping by for so many years, only to be unfortunately caught by the two brothers today.

Jiang Jiankang couldn’t help drooling just thinking about it.

He couldn’t eat spicy food, no problem. Spicy dishes were divided into tasty ones and nasty ones, and the tasty ones Jiang Jiankang could manage to eat if he really tried.

Who was Jiang Weiming? He was Sir’s very own younger brother!

Sir often said that compared with his six brothers, he was nothing, not even worth a fart. Sir’s culinary skills were something that Jiang Jiankang and his brothers couldn’t even come close to.

Now that the legendary Uncle had reappeared, could his cooking skills be anything less than extraordinary?

Jiang Jiankang and Jiang Jiandang were looking forward to the chopped chili fish head at noon.

Seeing that the fathead carp was indeed of good quality, Sir’s expression softened a bit and he said, “Third brother, I’ll make you a fish head tofu soup for lunch. We’re both so old now, it’s not worth it to get upset over those unfilial children and damage our health.”

Jiang Jiankang and Jiang Jiandang:!!!   /)/

“Any objections?” Sir asked.

“No objections, no objections,” they answered in unison, quickly making their exit.

Sir went to gut the fish, and the live fathead carp quickly became yet another soul under his knife. Since Jiang Feng had practiced a lot in the morning, Sir didn’t let him help and instead asked him to call Jiang Jiankang in to assist.

Jiang Jiankang and Jiang Jiandang were chatting in front of the pigpen.

“Brother, when we were fishing just now, there was another big one down there, definitely another fathead carp, or maybe a grass carp,” Jiang Jiankang analyzed.

“I saw it too. Let’s go fishing for it tomorrow. If it’s a fathead carp, we can make chopped chili fish head, and if it’s a grass carp, we can make boiled fish. Both are good. Dad is great at cooking everything, he just doesn’t know how to do spicy food,” Jiang Jiandang agreed.

“It’s fine to have spicy food occasionally. Didn’t sister-in-law post in the group a few days ago that eating spicy food regularly is bad for the stomach?” Jiang Jiankang said as he saw Jiang Feng approaching, “Son, why are you out here?”

“Grandpa wants you to come in and help,” Jiang Feng said.

Jiang Jiankang headed to the kitchen and left Jiang Jiandang alone by the pigpen.

“Feng, started dating yet?” Jiang Jiandang asked, using the ultimate question elders bust out during the New Year.

Jiang Feng: “…not yet.”

“You’re twenty now; it’s time to date. You’re not like your second cousin; he’s in medical school and it’s tough to find a girlfriend with so much hair loss,” Jiang Jiandang said.

“Actually, us physics majors lose hair too,” Jiang Feng felt he had to set the record straight for those studying physics.

“That’s different,” Jiang Jiandang waved his hand dismissively, “Your second uncle is a medical student, I understand. Those studying medicine lose hair quickly. Your dad shaves his head because of the greasy smoke in the kitchen making his hair dirty and hard to wash. Your second uncle’s baldness comes from not having much hair left, so he just shaved it all.”

Jiang Feng:…

No more talking; time to offer a candle for my second cousin’s hair.

Jiang Jiandang was chatting with Jiang Feng for no more than a couple of minutes when a call came through. It seemed to be about the last installment of the demolition compensation, and Jiang Jiandang went inside to answer the call, leaving Jiang Feng by the pigpen.

There wasn’t much entertainment in the countryside, so Jiang Feng took out his phone to scroll through his social media feed and noticed that Wu Minqi had sent him a message six minutes earlier.

“The registration for the competition starts today, don’t forget,”

When he checked the official website, it was indeed today.

The registration process was quite complex, requiring name, place of origin, ID number, address, and there was an optional field for the restaurant one belongs to. The competition seemed quite grand—if a restaurant chef placed high, it could serve as promotion for the restaurant.

Jiang Feng initially intended to fill in Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant, but then after rethinking, he cheekily filled in Taifeng Building instead.

After ruefully considering the three-hundred registration fee, Jiang Feng clicked submit. The system displayed “registration successful” and indicated that the specific time of the competition would be notified by phone later on.

After playing with his phone for a while, Mrs. Jiang called for dinner, and everyone excitedly scurried to the dining hall.

The meal was plentiful, with fish head tofu soup, the chicken stewed last night, stir-fried vegetables, and a small stir-fried pork dish. Although the vegetables were stir-fried by Sir, Jiang Feng didn’t feel like reaching for them upon seeing them. After stir-frying vegetables all morning and likely all afternoon to follow, plus facing them for the next few days, Jiang Feng found it really hard to muster any appetite for stir-fried greens.

As expected, Jiang Feng stir-fried vegetables for the next three days straight.

Three days of intensive Fire Control practice paid off, as Jiang Feng finally managed to accrue the last bit of proficiency needed, and his Fire Control level rose to Advanced. His system panel now displayed:

Knife skills (Advanced): Your knifework has surpassed that of most chefs. (Proficiency: 70231/100000)

Fire Control (Advanced): Your fire control has surpassed that of most chefs. (Proficiency: 14/100000)

Seasoning (Intermediate): You can achieve the proper saltiness. (Proficiency: 9652/10000)

Seasoning was still a few hundred points short; stir-frying greens daily added little to his seasoning proficiency. Jiang Feng estimated that by around the New Year, his Seasoning should be close to reaching Advanced.

Once Fire Control reached Advanced, the most direct feeling for Jiang Feng was that he had found his touch.

Sir had always scolded him for lacking feel in his cooking, and Jiang Feng himself didn’t know what ‘feel’ was supposed to be. But the moment the game indicated his Fire Control had advanced to the next level, Jiang Feng knew, his touch had arrived.

It was no longer discovering the fire was off only after the vegetables were overcooked. From the moment his hand touched the wok and spatula, and his eyes fell on the vegetables inside, his body’s sensation would tell him how high the flames should be, and when it was time to remove them from the heat.

For a genius, the moment his hand touched the wok, his instinct would tell him how to cook the dish. Others could only find that feel through constant practice.

Finally, he stir-fried a dish of greens with Advanced level Fire Control, and Sir took a look, then for the first time, picked up a piece with chopsticks to try, saying, “This is acceptable, it counts as progress.”

[Ding, you’ve earned one experience point.]

Sir was stingy with his praise, but Jiang Weiming was not. He too tasted it and praised, “Not bad, better than when your grandfather learned at your age.” [Ding, you’ve earned one experience point.]

Jiang Feng: I feel like you’re fooling me…

“When I was twenty, I certainly couldn’t stir-fry vegetables into this sorry state.” Sir was not quite satisfied, although he was overall happy, “Alright, take a rest today. No need to stir-fry the rest of the greens, just feed them directly to the pigs. Tomorrow, practice stir-frying potatoes.”

After eating greens for several days, Jiang Feng felt the pigs were about to turn green themselves.

Jiang Feng didn’t have anyone to share the good news that Sir had finally acknowledged him, so he went to the pigsty to share with the pigs that tasted his cooking every day.

“Tomorrowyou’ll get to eat stir-fried potatoes, Sanhua, are you excited?”

Mrs. Jiang intended to see if the pigs were hungry and needed feeding, but then she heard Jiang Feng’s conversation with Sanhua and turned around to enter the kitchen, where she fiercely twisted Jiang Weiguo’s ear.

“Making Feng stir- fry vegetables every day without changing it up. I just went to the pigsty and saw Feng talking to Sanhua. My fine grandson is going to go stupid at this rate from learning to cook!”

“What’s wrong with Feng talking to Sanhua? I used to talk to Da Hua every day, too!” Jiang Weiguo protested, feeling a bit aggrieved.

“I think you’ve also gone stupid from learning!” Mrs. Jiang said.

Jiang Weiming silently watched the drama without a word..