The Game of Life

Chapter 670: Chapter 668 Braised Shark Fin in Brown Sauce

“`

Rarely, Jiang Feng’s first reaction after leaving the memory wasn’t to open his attributes panel to check the recipe, but to look around first to see if anyone had noticed anything unusual about him.

No one was paying attention to Jiang Feng; a new customer was at the cashier’s desk checking out. Jiang Feng breathed a sigh of relief, opened a can of lukewarm Coke filled with carbon dioxide, took a big gulp, and pretended to be nonchalant as he quietly opened his attributes panel to check the new recipe he had acquired.

[Egg Noodles C-Level]

Creator: Cao Guixiang

Recipe Details: This is a common homemade noodle dish with simple, even somewhat shabby ingredients. Its biggest flaw, which also happens to be its distinctive trait, is being overly salty due to the addition of too much soy sauce when served. This saltiness corresponds to the bitterness in the eater’s heart, making these egg noodles an unforgettable dish of a lifetime. The salty, bitter tear that falls upon the noodles is like the tears of an era. Within 30 seconds of eating, the diner will shed a bitter, salty tear and is very likely to recall the most missed person in that particular scene.

Number of times it can be made per day (0/12)

Jiang Feng: …

Who would have thought? He believed that Zhang Chu was making an excuse when he said the noodles were too salty, but it turns out they really were salty.

Jiang Feng casually closed the attributes panel and got up to head back to Yonghe House to wait for the feast, but as soon as he left his seat, he realized something with a start.

“Fuck, I can actually make this dish!”

The newly acquired egg noodles recipe didn’t come with a friendly tip.

Although it’s only C-level egg noodles, it was enough to send Jiang Feng into an ecstatic frenzy. What does this mean? This means he can now make C-level pastries! You have to understand, he has not once practiced making pastries during this time; he’s been relentlessly grinding proficiency. To make progress like this, he indeed deserves to be the chosen one of the game.

Round it up, and his pastry skills are comparable to Xiaxia’s!

Jiang Feng left the convenience store happily, completely ignoring that the egg noodles he saw in the memory weren’t pulled noodles but the most homemade style of hand-cut noodles. He even left without taking his Coke with him.

The cashier who continued sitting and playing with his phone after settling the bill shook his head helplessly as he watched Jiang Feng’s retreating figure, thinking another one had gone crazy.

These office workers, one after another, didn’t know what was wrong with them, always liking to run to their convenience store to vent their stress. The one who was squeezing the drink bottle just left, and now another one came who they had never seen before, tapping on tables; you just never know what the next one will do.

The cashier stepped out from behind the cash register, took the can of Coke Jiang Feng had only taken one sip from, and threw it away.

On the other side, Jiang Feng happily returned to Yonghe House. Lu Sheng and the others had moved from the second floor window seats to a private room. When Jiang Feng walked in, six cold dishes were already served, and he immediately spotted the spiced fish and braised duck liver.

With cold dishes came liquor; there were only six people eating this meal, so naturally, there were only six pairs of chopsticks and six cups of liquor. The dishes were hot, and so was the liquor. As a cook, Jiang Feng could tell that the shallow layer of liquor in the cups was rice wine, but beyond that, he wasn’t sure.

No one had touched the liquor, nor the dishes. Zhang Zhiyuan was eyeing the spiced fish in front of him with a predatory gaze. By the look and smell of the dish, Jiang Feng felt Zhang Zhiyuan’s stare was incredibly restrained, yet it was still somewhat embarrassing.

Your grandma is Cao Guixiang, how can you be so undignified as to drool over a plate of spiced fish, isn’t it just…

Okay, it’s really delicious.

Jiang Feng sat down next to Zhang Zhiyuan and joined him in drooling over the plate of spiced fish.

“My grandma used to make spiced fish for me all the time when I was a kid,” Zhang Zhiyuan whispered as if he wished he could devour the fish with his eyes.

“Is it good?” Jian Feng asked, staring at the spiced fish.

“Delicious.”

A conversation without any nutritional value.

No one touched the food because Master Peng hadn’t come to the table yet.

“By the way,” Jiang Feng still remembered Cao Guixiang from the memory mentioning going to the Shunhe Building to get her deposit back, and he could guess that the reason Zhang Chu was so fixated on Shunhe Building was probably that it was the restaurant where he and Cao Guixiang had originally planned to have their wedding banquet.

But it seemed not entirely accurate because even though he had thought of the game, he still hadn’t received a prompt that [Zhang Chu’s Worries] part completion had been achieved.

“Do you have any wedding photos of your grandparents at home? It’s been popular lately for old folks to take wedding photos, my grandma has been nagging about wanting to follow the trend and take wedding photos recently.” Jiang Feng said.

“No,” Zhang Zhiyuan said, “My grandparents got married in the village and didn’t even have a wedding banquet because they couldn’t afford it, so how could they have wedding photos.”

Talking about this, Zhang Zhiyuan looked frustrated: “My dad always used to tell me how tough it was for him growing up in the countryside, trekking miles of mountain roads to school every day, and hardly having meat to eat twice a year, only getting braised pork during the New Year.”

“The key is I believed him, not finding out he was bullshitting until I was in high school!” Zhang Zhiyuan said with indignation.

Jiang Feng: …

Yes, I can testify; when your dad was a kid, he had great food to eat, even two-colored prawns and Large Dendrobium.

“`

Jiang Feng and Zhang Zhiyuan stared at the five-spice fish for nearly three or four minutes before the door to the private room was pushed open. Peng Changping walked in with a beaming smile, carrying a dish that would undoubtedly move one to tears with the sight of it—the braised shark’s fin in brown sauce.

Jiang Feng’s first impression was that the dish was huge, or more accurately, a basin—a large basin of braised shark’s fin, half filled with shark’s fin and half with chicken broth. Bathed in the chicken broth, the shark’s fin turned golden and shone brilliantly under the light. The soft and tender fins were scattered throughout the basin like smooth strands of hair, and if one looked as closely as Jiang Feng and Zhang Zhiyuan did, they could even spot the tiny scallop morsels hidden within the gold.

In four words, it was luxury and deliciousness combined.

Peng Changping placed the braised shark’s fin in the center of the dining table and said with a smile, “Why hasn’t anyone started eating yet? These appetizers are meant to be eaten hot to fully enjoy their flavors. Luckily, I arrived early, otherwise the hot dishes on the table would have turned cold.”

“We wouldn’t dare to start without you sitting down, Master Peng,” Xu Cheng chuckled. “Today you are the host, and it wouldn’t be right for the guests to finish eating before the host even sits down.”

“It was my oversight,” said Peng Changping as he took his seat, right next to Zhang Chu, facing Jiang Feng.

“I haven’t seen you in so many years that I couldn’t recognize you,” Peng Changping said. “They say time is fair to everyone, and today, I’ve seen it for myself. I didn’t expect even you to have become an old man like me.”

Zhang Chu didn’t say anything, appearing somewhat nervous and restrained.

“Let’s start eating. This braised shark’s fin is not just an ordinary appetizer. It’s about freshly served, hot, and the flavor changes if it gets cold,” Peng Changping urged, taking the lead and scooping a small half-bowl of chicken broth without taking any shark’s fin.

With Peng Changping setting an example, everyone became less reserved. Those who needed to use chopsticks did, while others used spoons, each helping themselves to a bowl of shark’s fin. Even Xu Cheng, who always spoke of getting old and needing to be mindful of his diet, exercise, and consume less meat, scooped himself a full bowl of shark’s fin. He ate in large mouthfuls but with small bites, a delicate grace beneath his robust manner.

Instantly, the private room fell silent, with only the sound of swallowing remaining.

And the fragrance of the braised shark’s fin.

What kind of fragrance was that?

When the braised shark’s fin was first brought in, Jiang Feng thought it was a fragrance that spoke of luxury and extravagance. The golden chicken broth, prepared with a combination of hen, dried scallops, ham, Shaoxing wine, and shark’s fin—a mere glimpse at the ingredients exuded an aroma filled with wealth. With the added touch of Peng Changping’s culinary expertise, anyone with a normal sense of taste and judgment could affirm that this was indeed a dish of extreme deliciousness.

But after tasting the braised shark’s fin, Jiang Feng realized that describing it as merely luxurious and extravagant was an understatement.

This was a dish that could etch itself into human memory.

A dish that he could remember for its flavor and fragrance even on a day when he might be too old to recognize faces or recall events.

“It’s really… so delicious,” Zhang Zhiyuan, who finished his bowl first, exclaimed with an ingenuous appreciation.

“I’m glad you like it,” Peng Changping replied with a smile. “Back in the day, your grandmother loved this dish when she was a girl. Whenever someone ordered it, she would make sure to finish her tasks quickly and then guard the pot of shark’s fin, so she could scoop up the leftover soup and enjoy it once it was served.”

“The braised shark’s fin for the Swallow-wing Feast should be made with the finest Luzon yellow gelatin, soaked seven days in advance to fully bloom. In the past, when there were no pressure cookers, it required slow simmering over low heat for six to seven hours. Nowadays, it’s not that troublesome, which is a lot more convenient,” Peng Changping explained.

Zhang Zhiyuan nodded, pretending to understand.

“There’s still some braised shark’s fin left. If anyone wants more, feel free to have some. When you’re done, remember to rinse your mouth with water. I’ll go check on the clear soup swallow vegetable in the back kitchen; it should be ready to serve soon,” said Peng Changping as he got up and left.

In the basin on the table, the orangey-yellow broth and the few long, thin floating shark’s fins looked reminiscent of a noodle soup—remains of a once contested delicacy.

Remains that everyone clamored for.

Zhang Zhiyuan felt the urge to dig in again.

After spending years eating in a university canteen, he felt a sense of nostalgia—one that took him back to his childhood amid such a sumptuous feast.

“There are still eight main dishes to come,” whispered Jiang Feng.

Zhang Zhiyuan immediately retracted his eager hand and gratefully glanced at Jiang Feng.

Then Jiang Feng stood up, bowl in hand.

“Mr. Lu, Sir Zhang, Mr. Xu, let’s each take a little and finish this off. The braised shark’s fin should be eaten while it’s hot,” Jiang Feng suggested.

Lu Sheng, Zhang Chu, and Xu Cheng all waved their hands in refusal; they had long passed the age where they could indulge in eating to their heart’s content. A full bowl of braised shark’s fin was already considered quite a splurge for them.

Jiang Feng then scooped the remaining shark’s fin into his bowl—a small half-bowl, not too much.

“I have a big appetite; I can handle it,” Jiang Feng justified, starting to enjoy his soup with gusto.

The soup was the essence, after all. The real delicacy was all locked within the broth.

Zhang Zhiyuan: ???