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The Game of Life

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Chapter 64 - Chapter 64: Chapter 63 Original Materials

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Chapter 64 - Chapter 64: Chapter 63 Original Materials

Chapter 64: Chapter 63 Original Materials

Translator: 549690339

Jiang Feng had been waiting for the mission completion notification ever since he left Han Guishan’s house.

Jiang Feng took the subway.

Jiang Feng transferred to Line 4-

Jiang Feng returned to the Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant.

Jiang Feng went back to his dormitory.

It was the next day.

Jiang Feng went to the Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant again.

It was six o’clock in the evening.

The game notification Jiang Feng had been waiting for had not come.

Jiang Feng: ????

Had Han Guishan not eaten?

Jiang, filled with doubts, arrived at No. 21, Area A, Tianfu Garden, and rang the doorbell.

Han Guishan was waiting for Jiang Feng at home, still looking as enthusiastic as the day before, with no change in attitude and no sign of dissatisfaction. Han watched silently by Jiang’s side as he cooked, just as he had the day before.

“Mr. Han, were your employees satisfied with yesterday’s marinated vegetable dumplings?” Jiang Feng finally couldn’t help but ask.

“Satisfied, of course satisfied. Mr. Jiang, your skills are unquestionably excellent,” Han Guishan responded. He had sneakily finished the leftover marinated vegetable dumplings in his office today, afraid of being seen by the other executives, he didn’t even warm them up in the microwave; the flavor still lingered in his mouth.

Jiang Feng felt there was no need for Han Guishan to lie.

There was no reason for him to spend such an exorbitant amount to hire Jiang to make marinated vegetable dumplings and then falsely claim satisfaction where there was dissatisfaction.

Where exactly was the problem?

Jiang truly did not understand. His marinated vegetable dumplings, by all accounts, should have been quite well-made. Why would Han Guishan say they were good when he wasn’t truly satisfied?

Jiang Feng kneaded dough while he recalled the details of the mission.

Li Hua’s marinated vegetable dumplings were taught to her by her mother, Li Sanya, and he only required to replicate them according to the recipe.

Following the recipe…

Jiang Feng’s kneading paused, his disbelief mounting…

This Mr. Han, he couldn’t possibly have such strong tastes, could he?

If he followed the recipe exactly, it would be low-quality marinated vegetables + coarse-ground cornmeal + rice bran, this deadly combination could land a modern person with a refined stomach directly in the hospital!

The marinated vegetables in the recipe video were completely dried out, having lingered on the edge of mold for too long, without a trace of moisture. The cornmeal was so crude it included whole corn cobs ground together, complete with large chunks – the fighter jet among coarse grains. The rice bran was nothing but crushed husks and hulls boiled together, dubbed rice bran but not containing a single grain of rice. Making marinated vegetable dumplings with these ingredients would indeed be an experience of bittersweet remembrance.

A bitterness that penetrated deep into the soul.

Jiang Feng stopped kneading the dough and went straight to the cabinet to search for the marinated vegetables.

Since he had brought his own marinated vegetables, he hadn’t looked at the ones Han Guishan prepared yesterday.

Fortunately, among the dozen or so jars of marinated vegetables, there were two with a poor appearance that had been stored for who knows how long. They were akin to the kind shown in the video tutorial.

“Mr. Jiang, is there something wrong?” Han Guishan asked, noticing the sudden change in Jiang’s expression.

“It’s missing something. Mr. Han, do you have any rice bran at home? The kind that’s ground directly from rice husks and bran without any other additives?

Jiang Feng asked.

Nowadays, everyone pays attention to health and wellness and eats everything, so you can buy rice bran on the market. However, the rice bran available there is made from fruit peel, seed coat, outer endosperm, gluten layer, and germ, which is entirely different from the rice bran that people used to eat out of poverty and lack of food.

“Ah, I’ll have my assistant buy some, and it can be delivered tomorrow,” Han Guishan said before leaving the kitchen to make a call.

It was not even two minutes before Han Guishan came back, his face full of emotion.

“I didn’t expect you to know about this kind of rice bran, Mr. Jiang. That’s what I ate as a kid, as a substitute for rice. My mom made it very fine, it used up a lot of firewood, but it was better than cornmeal, that stuff scratches your throat no matter how you cook it. Rice bran is different, though. Back when I was a child, if I could have a bowl of rice porridge, I could brag about it for months. White rice was something I didn’t even dare to dream of,” Han Guishan reminisced with a face full of memories of trying times.

Jiang Feng:…

You say coarse grains scratch your throat, but your body honestly wants to eat the original, throat-scratching version.

Without rice bran, it’s too late to recreate the recipe perfectly, let alone that Jiang Feng had already spent a long time kneading the dough. He abandoned the pickles made by Mrs. Wang Xiulian, used an inferior quality of dry pickles instead, and the taste of the pickle buns was much worse than yesterday’s.

Because of the delay, Jiang Feng didn’t leave until almost eight o’clock. Han Guishan asked Housekeeper Wang to call Han Youxin down for dinner.

“Hasn’t the lady returned yet?” Han Guishan asked.

“The lady said she already ate outside and will come back after soaking in the hot spring,” Housekeeper Wang replied.

“Soaking in hot springs is not as good for your health as eating coarse grains. She’s messing around all day long,” Han Guishan muttered under his breath, careful not to say such things in front of Wang Jing. He then stuffed a pickle bun into Han Youxin’s mouth.

After crying and making a fuss yesterday, Han Youxin saw that the breakfast was still pickle buns this morning and resigned himself to the fact that his dad was determined to make him knead dough to lose weight. He accepted the pickle bun and bit into it fiercely.

Even though he had mentally prepared himself for the worst, tears uncontrollably fell from Han Youxin’s eyes the moment he tasted it: “It’s even worse than yesterday’s, wah!”

The thought of having to eat this going forward, and that it’d get worse each day, Han Youxin couldn’t hold back and started sobbing loudly.

Seeing him cry so genuinely, Han Guishan thought that Jiang Feng had an off day and made the pickle buns exceptionally terrible. He quickly took one and put it in his mouth.

One bite.

This flavor…

Han Guishan remembered the pickled vegetables his mom used to make, which were always exceptionally salty and dry because pickles were a luxury back then, and salt was expensive. They had to be hidden away and were only brought out during festivals and special occasions as a treat.

“You little rascal, stop talking nonsense. It’s not bad at all. It’s clearly better than yesterday’s,” Han Guishan scolded. “No cheating. Last time Dr. Chen said you’re over-nourished and need to eat more coarse grains. Eat up, and don’t go sneaking snacks upstairs; I confiscated all the snacks under your bed today.” Han Youxin, learning that his secret stash of snacks under the bed had been confiscated, cried even louder.

Han Guishan ignored Han Youxin’s sobs and sent a WeChat message to Wang Jing, who was blissfully soaking in the hot springs.

“Do you want me to save you a pickle bun for a late-night snack? “No need, it’ll make me fat (smile),” Wang Jing replied instantly.

“How can coarse grains make you fat? Ah, women,” Han Guishan grumbled.

On the other side, Wang Jing’s friends, who were soaking in the hot springs with her, teased her: “Your husband Han is rushing you to come home, sending you messages just after eight o’clock.

“He’s asking if I want him to save me dinner,” Wang Jing said with a feigned smile, then dialed Assistant Chen’s number. “Hello, Assistant Chen, I’ve looked it over, and the Europe fourteen-day tour looks great. Let’s go with that one. I can leave tomorrow.”

“Wow, you’re going to leave your dear son behind and go play for fourteen days?” her friends exclaimed in surprise.

“Han is there. He’s been coming home early from work lately, staying in every night. It’s a good time for me to go out and relax,” Wang Jing said with a smile..

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