The Game of Life-Chapter 620 - 618: Setting Forth (Part 2)
Chapter 620: Chapter 618: Setting Forth (Part 2)
Jiang Weiguo, after leaving the kitchen, returned to his previous room, where he needed not only to pack his bags but also to tidy up his bedding and clean the room.
Sun Guanyun didn’t leave; he waited in the room, sitting on the bed with his arms folded across his chest, embodying the air of a stereotypical landlady.
Jiang Feng noticed that Sun Guanyun, whether in his 20s or his 70s, shared one thing in common when it came to Jiang Weiguo—it was like a cat meeting a dog. Although he didn’t dare to provoke him outright, he always seemed keen on showing his claws.
“I’m going to fold the quilt now,” Jiang Weiguo said.
Sun Guanyun obediently got up and moved aside, allowing Jiang Weiguo to swiftly fold the quilt. In the blink of an eye, it transformed into a neatly pressed tofu block, clearly the work of an experienced hand.
...
Seeing this, Sun Guanyun couldn’t help but want to mock him, “You couldn’t possibly be folding quilts and doing housework every day at home, right?”
Jiang Weiguo gave him a look that said you clearly don’t have a wife, “My wife is alone with three kids and still has to work. If I don’t do the housework, who will? A maid from the heavens?”
Sun Guanyun: …
“What did my dad want with you?”
“An assessment,” Jiang Weiguo replied, straight to the point.
As they finally touched on serious matters, Sun Guanyun perked up, “I advise you not to pack up so early. If you don’t pass the assessment today, you’ll have to come back anyway.”
“Assessment or not, I have to go back today. If I don’t go to work tomorrow afternoon, they’ll dock my salary. My youngest was just born, and if they cut my salary, once he weans, he won’t even have rice soup to drink.”
“How can you turn everything into a conversation about your son?” Sun Guanyun said, unable to help himself.
“My youngest was indeed just born.”
Sun Guanyun: …
“You can clean up later, you might still need to live here next year,” Sun Guanyun cursed Jiang Weiguo with venomous intent and stormed out angrily.
Jiang Weiguo was used to Sun Guanyun’s antics and continued to tidy up the room. Perhaps because the room was inherently small and scarcely furnished, even after Jiang Weiguo folded the bedding, cleaned the table, and swept the floor anew, it still looked virtually unchanged from before.
Possibly out of boredom, having nothing else to do after cleaning the room, Jiang Weiguo opened the already tied-up canvas bag again to check his belongings one by one. As he checked, he muttered to himself as if confirming each item.
After rechecking everything, Jiang Weiguo stuffed the canvas bag under the bed again and left the room to go to the kitchen at Jubao Building.
The kitchen was already bustling when he arrived. Jiang Feng saw Sun Guanyun instructing a child, who looked no older than ten, on how to cut vegetables. Judging by his appearance and age, Jiang Feng was sure this child was Sun Maochai.
“Too thick. When I was your age, the radish slices I cut were transparent. Make them thinner. When you chop, your hand must be steady and quick, not dawdling like you’re chopping ribs,” Sun Guanyun directed.
“You’ve been learning to cook for how many years by the time you were his age, having transparent radish slices isn’t something to brag about,” Jiang Weiguo teased.
“Jiang,” Sun Maochai stopped his chopping to greet Jiang Weiguo, “I heard from Sun just now that you have an assessment this afternoon, congratulations.”
“Why stop? When I was your age, I was already cutting meat, and you’re still on radishes. You’re already starting late, you should be racing against the clock,” Sun Guanyun glanced at Jiang Weiguo, “Congratulating for an assessment is pointless. Whether you pass is still uncertain.”
Sun Guanyun effectively cast himself as the villain of the story.
Perhaps out of boredom or maybe because he wouldn’t be able to argue with Sun Guanyun in the future, Jiang Weiguo uncharacteristically engaged in the banter.
“I didn’t see you acting like this with the others during their assessments,” Jiang Weiguo consciously picked up a basin of potatoes and stood by the kitchen counter, starting to wash and chop them.
Sun Guanyun didn’t bother to check if Sun Maochai’s radish slices were thin enough anymore, instead, he grabbed a basin with even more potatoes than Jiang Weiguo had and began cutting them alongside him.
“You think Buddhas Jumping Over the Wall is like the cabbage next door, something that just anyone can learn? My dad took on so many disciples registered in the name only to teach you Buddhas Jumping Over the Wall,” Sun Guanyun said, eyes on potatoes, knife in hand, pretending to be engaged in real work as he whispered.
“Of course, I know. This shows that Sir thinks I can learn it, that’s why he taught me.”
“Don’t overestimate yourself. You think Wu Family’s Buddhas Jumping Over the Wall is like those from the small joints outside? Dream on. You, who’s casual with your efforts, think after 8 years you can master it,” Sun Guanyun began and ended his comment with idioms for emphasis.
“I spend half a month here every year and ponder for 11 months when I go back. If I still can’t learn it, then what do you take me for, yourself?” Jiang Weiguo retorted with a rhetorical question to stress his point.
“You don’t…”
“What are you two cutting so many potatoes for? Do we need that many for lunch today? Guanyun, put yours back,” Sun Zheran commanded, a double kill.
Sun Guanyun was reassigned away from the main battlefield, a ceasefire.
The time of ceasefire was always brief, and Sun Guanyun soon discovered that although he couldn’t cut potatoes, he could cut beef. So, he took a small basin of beef back to Jiang Weiguo’s side and continued to annoy him.
“Jiang Weiguo, are you really planning on going back and never coming here again?” Sun Guanyun repeated the first question he asked Jiang Weiguo.
Jiang continued working without interruption, “Haven’t I said? Once I’ve learned everything, why would I come back?”
“When you first became a disciple, didn’t you say that you wanted to learn to cook because you tasted my dad’s lobster with superior soup? Why aren’t you learning that instead of Buddhas Jumping Over the Wall?” Sun Guanyun gave the beef on the cutting board a vicious chop.
“A disciple registered in the name can only learn one dish; of course, I have to learn the best one.”
“Who said you can only learn one dish? Didn’t my dad initially say Buddhas Jumping Over the Wall was only for teaching to his direct disciples? In the end, he still taught you, so why don’t you learn another dish!”
Jiang Weiguo: ?
“No need, my third son has been born, and my eldest will need to go to school in a couple of years. It’s not convenient to run back and forth like before,” Jiang Weiguo said.
“Why do you keep bringing up your sons? How can you relate everything back to your sons?”
Jiang Weiguo gave Sun Guanyun a meaningful look: “You’ll understand when you have a wife.”
Sun Guanyun: ???
“Can’t be bothered to argue about this with you. Once you go back, your small broken city will be cut off from the world. The association doesn’t participate in exchange meetings or contests, nor do you take exams. Do you really want to spend your life in that broken place, being a chef at a small, broken state-run restaurant?” Sun Guanyun looked indignantly as if to say he expected better.
“You haven’t even become the chef of a state-run restaurant,” Jiang Weiguo looked at Sun Guanyun disdainfully.
Jiang Feng: Pfft.
When Sir was young, he sure had a knack for retorts.
“I will definitely become one in the future!”
“Talk about it when you become one.”
“How ungrateful, to think that I especially inquired for you when I went to Hang City for the exchange meeting two months ago, asking if there were any chefs with the Jiang surname that fit the age of your brothers.”
When Sun Guanyun brought this up, Jiang Weiguo immediately became serious: “Are there any?”
“The chefs who join the exchanges are mostly from the south. There are quite a few with the surname Jiang, but none who meet your criteria of being the right age and highly skilled,” Sun Guanyun said. “Aren’t you a Beiping person? Maybe your brothers went back there? If you want to find someone, why not go back to Beiping and look?”
“Has Taifeng Building in Beiping opened?”
“Never heard of it opening, probably not,” Sun Guanyun said.
“Then no one has returned,” Jiang Weiguo said with certainty.
“Actually, there is one who might fit the bill, I didn’t meet the person myself but heard it from others. In the capital city of Shu Province, there’s a chef with the surname Jiang, works at Wu Family Restaurant, you know it?” Sun Guanyun asked.
“Don’t know it.”
“Didn’t I tell you before? That chef with the surname Jiang in Shu is said to be even more skilled than the head chef of Wu Family Restaurant. The exact age isn’t clear, but definitely older than you. Do you have a brother who is particularly good at Sichuan cuisine?”
Jiang Weiguo shook his head: “No, back then chefs from Sichuan in Beiping were scarce.”
“Then it’s probably not him,” Sun Guanyun complained. “Your surname is too common. There’s a whole bunch of people surnamed Jiang. It would be easier if you had a rare surname like Sima, Nangong, Zhongli, even Fan or Gong.”
Jiang Weiguo ignored him and focused on cutting potatoes.
“By the way, I’ll take you to the train station this afternoon.”
Jiang Weiguo glanced at him, “Didn’t you just say I won’t pass this afternoon’s assessment?”
Sun Guanyun fell silent.
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