The Game of Life

Right, Zhang Guanghang!

In just the past hour, Jiang Feng had witnessed Jiang Shoucheng break a wooden stick with his bare hands, dealt with a husband who got scissors stuck in his chest after arguing with his wife and was sent to the emergency room, was sweet-talked by Jiang Shoucheng himself into cooking in the canteen with just a few words, received a side quest from the system, and experienced Mrs. Qian’s heartfelt expression.

The plot was compact, with setups, developments, turns, and resolutions, joy and sorrow, separation and reunion—he had all but forgotten about Zhang Guanghang, who had gone to park in the underground parking lot.

He had also cast Ji Yue to the back of his mind, as if his only reason for coming to the hospital was to simply cook a meal for Jiang Shoucheng.

After contemplating whether to call Zhang Guanghang or Ji Yue, Jiang Feng hesitated for a moment but decided to call Ji Yue.

“Hello?” Ji Yue answered instantly.

“Ji Yue, how’s your foot? Has Zhang Guanghang left?” Jiang Feng asked.

“It’s the same, got an ice pack on it. Zhang Guanghang and I are over at radiology waiting for the X-rays, which should be ready soon. The emergency room was too busy and overcrowded, so we moved here,” Ji Yue said.

“Dr. Cao said if it’s just a fracture, it’s not a big deal; she will prescribe me two boxes of plasters, and I can go home and rest. If it’s more serious, she will arrange for hospitalization. Don’t worry about me; you do your thing. Zhang Guanghang is here with me. I’m going to hang up now; my phone’s about to die,” Ji Yue ended the call decisively and turned off her phone screen, which showed 79% battery left.

“What did Jiang Feng say?” Zhang Guanghang, who was leaning against the wall next to Ji Yue’s wheelchair, looking at his phone, asked.

“He asked how my foot was doing, said everything was going smoothly on his side, and mentioned he might return home later in the evening. He said we should go ahead and leave if we finish up here,” Ji Yue replied.

Zhang Guanghang nodded and asked, “How do you feel now? Does your foot still hurt?”

Ji Yue’s foot didn’t hurt at all; in fact, it felt somewhat sweet.

“Much better, not painful at all,” Ji Yue said, turning to give Zhang Guanghang a smile that made her face look very small from that angle.

“What are you looking at?” Ji Yue inquired.

“Reading comics,” Zhang Guanghang replied, showing his phone to Ji Yue, “I actually wanted to be a comic artist when I was younger.”

Ji Yue’s smile brightened even more: “Didn’t you say you could create a four- panel comic for promoting Taifeng Building? Jiang Feng told me a story about a particularly awful-tasting wonton dish he made, and I’ve been adapting it into a comic recently. I’ve already done nearly half of it; do you want to take a look? I have a backup on my phone!”

“I thought your phone was about to die?”

Ji Yue: …

“Hahaha, yeah, I forgot about that,” Ji Yue’s smile gradually became awkward.

Jiang Feng, who had been hung up on at the other end: …

He couldn’t shake the feeling that leaving Ji Yue and Zhang Guanghang alone together, even with others nearby, might be a bit risky for Zhang Guanghang.

Jiang Feng sighed. Ah, when young boys are out and about, they must protect themselves, especially someone like Zhang Guanghang, 1.92 meters tall, handsome and dashing, young and wealthy, who could afford a Bentley, and was of Chinese-French descent.

Jiang Feng continued making the braised pork, starting with frying sugar until all the rock sugar melted and small yellow bubbles began to appear at the bottom of the pot. He then poured the Wuhua pork into the wok, stirring quickly on medium heat. After each piece of pork was coated with an even caramelization, he added ginger slices and continued to stir-fry. Finally, he added soy sauce, stirred to mix well, poured in hot water, added the rest of the seasonings, brought it to a boil on high heat, then switched to low heat to simmer slowly.

Once the fatty oil from the Wuhua pork had been rendered out and every piece of meat gleamed with it, it was time to reduce the sauce and take it off the heat.

With the lid on the pot, Jiang Feng entrusted everything to time and started making braised chicken.

The braised chicken also needed to be stewed in the clay pot to soak up the flavors, and as Jiang Feng had recently gotten used to making Eight Treasures Chestnut Fragrant Pigeon, he instinctively deboned both the chicken and the duck as soon as he saw them.

Deboning was actually a good thing, as it made eating more convenient and the flavors penetrated more easily when cooking.

The century egg and lean pork congee was already on the stove, cooking in the largest clay pot from the small kitchen. It was still a bit smaller than those at Taifeng Building, but it was already quite large. Most households couldn’t find such a big clay pot, and Jiang Feng was quite satisfied with it.

After estimating the time it would take to finish the remaining dishes, Jiang Feng felt that by the time he was done, it would be just about dinner time. He decided to give Jiang Shoucheng a call to remind him to eat something to tide him over if he was hungry.

The phone rang for a long time before it was answered, and there was a lot of noise on Jiang Shoucheng’s end, sounding like he was outdoors rather than in the emergency department.

“Hey, little brother, I’m not at the hospital right now. Is something going on over there? If you need help, I’ll call someone else for you,” Jiang Shoucheng shouted. “Mr. Zhong, this patient has lost consciousness and is in a coma.” “Ah…ah, it’s nothing. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve made a lot of food, and it might be after five o’clock before we can have dinner,” Jiang Feng said, somewhat stunned.

Why was their emergency department so thrilling? It was like a scene right out of a TV drama.

“Five o’clock, huh? That’s perfect. Little brother, take your time cooking; it’s best to wait until around 6 or 7. It’s okay if the dishes cool down. We can eat cold or hot, and we won’t be able to finish up here until past six,” Jiang Shoucheng yelled. “There was a bus that flipped over on the main road near the hospital. Over twenty people were injured, some of them seriously. Almost all of us in the emergency department are out here. If you can make more, just fry up a couple more dishes, even just several plates of cabbage will do. Nearly ten of us haven’t eaten all day.”

“Don’t worry, big brother. I guarantee there will be enough food,” Jiang Feng said confidently. When the Jiang Family Members cooked, quantity was always sufficient.

Jiang Shoucheng hung up the phone.

“Jiang, come over and help hold up this hunk of metal. The fire department is working on the front; there are still people inside,” a resident doctor said.

Jiang Shoucheng hurriedly went to assist.

With Jiang Shoucheng’s help, the resident doctor finally got a chance to rest and said, “This piece of metal is really heavy. I almost broke my back just now. Jiang, what time do you think we’ll be done with all this? I didn’t even have lunch, just two buns in the morning, and now I’m so hungry my stomach is sticking to my back.”

“If we’re lucky, maybe a little after six,” Jiang Shoucheng replied.

“After six, huh? Then we can still go and grab a meal at the orthopedic canteen! I heard they’re serving beef today. I just don’t know if it will be sold out by after six,” the resident doctor said.

As soon as beef was mentioned, Jiang Shoucheng remembered that he had forgotten to ask Jiang Feng if he had managed to buy any beef when they had spoken on the phone earlier.

“Why bother with the orthopedic canteen? Didn’t I tell you? My little brother is making us a feast at the small cafeteria!” Jiang Shoucheng said.

“A real feast?” the resident doctor asked skeptically.

“How many times do I have to tell you? My little brother is a chef at Taifeng Building. Taifeng Building! You were the one who ate the most of the food I brought back last time. Tonight, bring along Dr. Cao, Mr. Zhong, Dr. Lu, Dr. Wei, Xu, and Zhou,” Jiang Shoucheng said.

“And let’s also invite Huihui,” the resident doctor said with a shy smile.

“Tssk.”

“Ouch, it’s open, hurry, hurry, grab something! Mr. Zhong, it’s open!” The resident doctor got back to work.