The Game of Life

When Jiang Feng came out of the restroom, he happened to run into Lu Sheng, who had come out first and was washing his hands. A historic meeting took place at the washbasin by the men’s restroom door at Yonghe House between the behind-the-scenes owner of a new restaurant in Beiping and the owner of an established restaurant.

They looked each other in the eye, gazes intertwining.

“Jiang Feng?”

“Lu Sheng.”

This was the first meeting between Jiang Feng and Lu Sheng, or perhaps not the first, but they didn’t know each other at the time of Xia Mushi’s funeral, so even if they had seen each other then, there was no impression left. Previously, Jiang Feng had only seen photos of Lu Sheng on his social media, and now seeing the man in person, Jiang Feng was surprised to find that Lu Sheng was really an honest fellow.

The photos posted on social media were taken with an original camera, the person looked exactly as they did in the photos, which made them easy to recognize.

“You get here and don’t even call me, what, chefs from Taifeng Building have to sneak around when they eat at Yonghe House?” Lu Sheng said with a smile.

Jiang Feng instantly found that feeling of chatting and joking in a WeChat group, laughing, “Of course I have to be sneaky about it, wouldn’t it be bad to get caught?”

“Well then, I should thank you for bringing Yonghe House extra business. It’s just a pity that I was busy during Taifeng Building’s opening and missed out on your Sweet and Sour Yam,” Lu Sheng said.

In Beiping’s circle of chefs, Jiang Feng’s Sweet and Sour Yam was far more famous than he was himself. Mention Jiang Feng and not everyone might know who you’re talking about, but mention the Sweet and Sour Yam that Taifeng Building limits to six servings each day, and everyone knows it.

“Next time you’re free, come to Taifeng Building, I’ll definitely save a serving for you,” Jiang Feng said.

“I remember you came here with your friend for a meal, what dishes did you order? Let me, the owner, give you some personal recommendations. Oh, and I’ve recently gotten hold of a box of fine tea leaves. I’ll go brew you a pot of tea, it’ll be a good chance for your friend to sample our Yonghe House tea,” Lu Sheng said, grabbing Jiang Feng and leading him to see the newly acquired tea leaves.

“Shredded Pork in Beijing Sauce, Pot-Stewed Meat, Oil-Poached Eggplant, Bicolored Prawns, Vegetarian Stewed White Fungus, and Stir-Fried Broccoli.” Jiang Feng began to list the dishes.

“Quite the connoisseur, I didn’t expect you to actually know about our…” Lu Sheng was astonished.

“I know, Shredded Pork in Beijing Sauce…”

“The really special dish in our restaurant is the Vegetarian Stewed White Fungus.”

Lu Sheng: ???

Jiang Feng: ???

“The Vegetarian Stewed White Fungus wasn’t what you ordered?”

“Isn’t Shredded Pork in Beijing Sauce your restaurant’s specialty dish?”

The two stared at each other, dumbfounded.

Lu Sheng took Jiang Feng to the surveillance room, which was also his office, explaining as they walked.

“Shredded Pork in Beijing Sauce is a popular dish for the masses, but Vegetarian Stewed White Fungus is our real specialty. It’s like your Taifeng Building’s Chicken in Wine and Roasted Pig; our Tan Family Cuisine is banquet food, normally it’s not available unless you reserve it in advance,” Lu Sheng said, “I’d specifically instructed our waiter to bring the VIP menu to your table.”

“VIP menu?”

“How could those old restaurants in Beiping have an Ordering System as comprehensive as yours at Taifeng Building? Aren’t we all just handing over menus for customers to order from, and under normal circumstances, Tan Family dishes wouldn’t be included in the regular menu,” Lu Sheng explained, “That Ordering System of yours wasn’t cheap, was it?”

“It’s not as expensive as you think,” Jiang Feng said with a laugh.

Lu Sheng loved tea, which was common knowledge. His social media was always filled with various types of tea leaves, from green to black, white, yellow, and oolong, his collection had it all.

Yonghe House’s tea was also famous, and many gourmets liked to meet up with a few friends there, ordering a table full of dishes and a pot of tea.

Lu Sheng took out a can of tea leaves from the cabinet and introduced it to Jiang Feng, “This is Lushan Cloud Mist Tea. I’ve been looking for it for years and couldn’t find any. It was Mr. Xu who recently managed to get a box. He doesn’t drink green tea, so he passed it on to me.”

Jiang Feng nodded as if he understood, though he only knew about Lushan Cloud Mist Tea because he visited Mount Lu a few summers ago. Jiang Jiankang had bought two cans for Jiang Weiguo. They seemed to be of the kind from the lower mount, but he couldn’t really tell the quality.

Jiang Feng didn’t drink tea and had no research on it. As for tea beverages, he had drunk plenty, such as iced black tea and lemon tea during his junior and senior high school days.

Lu Sheng wasn’t just a connoisseur; he also studied the art of making tea, but Jiang Feng couldn’t understand any of it. The type of water used, the brewing method, the amount of tea, the number of rinses – it all looked the same to him.

As Jiang Feng watched Lu Sheng make tea, he pondered what exactly Zhang Chu had restored. His seeming distraction didn’t escape Lu Sheng’s notice. “What’s on your mind? Thinking about new dishes?” Lu Sheng asked.

“Not really, just curious about all the retro decor in Yonghe House and wondering how many of the items are relics from the previous dynasty,” Jiang Feng replied.

“Not many. Over 30 years ago, a fire started in the kitchen and burned all those antiques. I think I had just been born around that time. The fire almost completely destroyed the first floor, and the second floor lost many things too. Everything here now has been refurbished to look like before, but none of the old screens, paintings, or anything else survived,” Lu Sheng explained.

“The entire first floor was burned? And the stairs too?” Jiang Feng asked in shock.

“All gone. Back then, everything inside Yonghe House was wooden and easily caught fire. It’s a shame about the screens, cabinets, and stairs. My dad told me that the screens and stairs in Yonghe House were handcrafted by a master carpenter named Jin. His unique craftsmanship is now hard to find,” said Lu Sheng.

Jiang Feng had originally guessed that Zhang Chu and his master might have come to repair major items like screens, railings, or staircases. But having just learned from Lu Sheng that all those items were destroyed in a fire 30 years ago, he felt uncertain.

The mission prompt suggested finding the object Zhang Chu had restored and getting his confirmation or remembering what exactly he had worked on would suffice. Since the prompt mentioned finding it, Jiang Feng believed the object Zhang Chu worked on must still be inside Yonghe House.

But what could it be?

Zhang Chu mentioned his master was a famous carpenter in Beiping City. Jin, the carpenter mentioned by Lu Sheng, might just be Zhang Chu’s master. Thirty years ago, the first floor of Yonghe House was completely destroyed by fire, and the second floor also suffered severe damage, leaving no old items untouched.

What wooden items remained on the second floor worth a famous carpenter taking his apprentice to repair in person?

At that moment, Jiang Feng felt as if he had picked up the wrong script.

Logically, he was supposed to be in an inspiring film about reviving his family’s restaurant, or a business drama full of scheming and intrigue, or a lighthearted and hearty food show. So why did his script seem more like ‘Detective Conan’? “Tea’s ready, care to have a taste?” Lu Sheng inquired.

“No thanks, I prefer cold tea,” Jiang Feng politely declined.

“Lushan Cloud Mist Tea boasts six exceptional qualities: bold and thick leaves, vibrant and lush, clear tea color, tender and even leaves, lingering aroma, rich and sweet flavor. To drink it cold would be a travesty, don’t you think?” Lu Sheng said, his literary flair emerging whenever tea was the subject.

“I don’t appreciate tea; drinking such fine tea would be a waste on me,” Jiang Feng said helplessly, “There’s an old gentleman at our table; I’ll take the tea to someone who appreciates it.”

“Remember to drink it warm, don’t let it get cold,” Lu Sheng reminded him.

Jiang Feng picked up the teapot and walked over to the table where Zhang Zhiyuan was sitting.