The Game of Life TGOL

Chapter 171: Chapter 170 Eight Treasure Porridge

Translator: 549690339 |

Eight Treasure Porridge, also known as Laba Porridge, is a traditional festive food of the Zhou family, made from various ingredients during the Laba Festival. “Old Stories of Martial World” from the Southern Song Dynasty once recorded, “Making porridge with walnuts, pine nuts, milk vetch, persimmons, chestnuts, and the like, is called Laba Porridge.”

The Eight Treasure Porridge of today is no longer limited to just eight different ingredients. Last summer vacation, Jiang Feng made a pot for Chen Xiuxiu with black sticky rice as the main ingredient, supplemented with mung beans, adzuki beans, lentils, white lentils, red dates, peach kernels, peanuts, lotus seeds, longan, pine nuts, Chinese yam, lilies, goji berries, coix seeds, job’s tears, and other various ingredients. People from different regions have different tastes. Some use simple ingredients while others use even more complex recipes than Jiang Feng, including traditional Chinese medicine and cured meat, truly making it a versatile dish.

Zhang Xi, as a minor who doesn’t like to use WeChat, became friends with Jiang Feng on Q.Q. After they exchanged countless emoticon sticker battles, they finalized the ingredients needed. The Eight Treasure Porridge Zhang Xi made used traditional ingredients, including coix seeds, job’s tears, white lentils, lotus flesh, Chinese yam, red dates, longan, lilies, and japonica rice, and it also needed honey. The number of ingredients was much fewer than what Jiang Feng was planning to use, and the taste was set to be sweeter.

The competition time was only forty minutes, which inevitably meant that they couldn’t use low heat to simmer slowly and had to boil vigorously on high heat. Timing himself at Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant, Jiang Feng practiced once without counting the soaking time of the ingredients. Forty minutes, adding extra water, boiling on high heat, simmering on medium heat, and then a few minutes of slow cooking on low heat, he barely made it.

Although his Cooking Porridge skills were only intermediate, that was based on having master-level Knifework, advanced Fire Control, and Seasoning skills. With his current level of porridge cooking, Jiang Feng could easily hold his own in a decades-old porridge shop.

Jiang Weiguo was truly puzzled, as Jiang Feng would mess up anything he learned, except when it came to Cooking Porridge, where he had an epiphany. Anything he looked at he would understand, casually experimenting a bit and he could make a good pot of porridge without needing anyone’s guidance.

Gazing at the Eight Treasure Porridge on the table, Jiang Weiguo sighed.

Gazing at the Eight Treasure Porridge on the table, Jiang Feng also sighed.

“A Pot of Delicious Eight Treasure Porridge”

What a great description. If only it could appear on other dishes, it would be so nice. However, it had to be on the Eight Treasure Porridge he made for practice; Jiang Feng just couldn’t be pleased.

Jiang Jiankang enthusiastically drank a large bowl, offering high praise, “Son, your porridge is really well made.’¹

“Wife, wife, come and have some porridge!”

Mrs. Wang Xiulian, upon smelling the aroma, entered the kitchen. She glanced at the Eight Treasure Porridge, which didn’t have a hint of meat or fish, and her interest wasn’t piqued. She took a polite sip and asked, “Are you making porridge again today, kiddo?”

“Yes,” Jiang Feng said resolutely.

Mrs. Wang Xiulian decisively put down her bowl and walked out. She addressed Ji Yue, who was idling outside and watching dramas, “Yueyue, add a note on the standing sign: ‘Special price for Eight Treasure Porridge, 5 yuan.”

Ji Yue got up and very experiencedly said to Jiang Feng, “Wait until you’ve made three pots before calling me to drink.”

Ji Yue had already mastered Jiang Feng’s patterns of culinary disasters.

Jiang Feng continued cooking Eight Treasure Porridge.

The transition between high heat, medium heat, and low heat still needed some fine-tuning. The last pot of porridge took 39 minutes, just making it within the 40-minute deadline for serving. A slight error during the competition could lead to a total mess. Jiang Feng had to reduce the time, aiming to control it around 35 minutes for safety.

After cooking five pots of porridge in the morning, Mrs. Wang Xiulian watched the amount of porridge left and had Ji Yue change the special price to 4 yuan. In the afternoon, Jiang Feng returned to the normal business of Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant, and he wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but he felt Wu Minqi was particularly heavy-handed with the chili today.

Sprinkling handfuls of dried chilies without considering the customers’ tongues.

“Jiang Feng, four glasses of Rose and Cranberry!” Ji Yue called out from outside.

Consequentially, Jiang Feng’s juice business picked up as well.

After the midday rush was over, Jiang Feng couldn’t help but ask out of curiosity, “Did you use too much seasoning today?”

“I’m trying to get a feel for the amount of ingredients,” Wu Minqi replied.

“Have you and Ji Xue figured out the result? What are you going to make?” Jiang Feng asked.

“No, she can’t cook spicy foods at all. They don’t eat spicy food in Guangdong Province, and her family prefers light flavors. She said she needs to mull it over for a while, so I’m practicing on other dishes,” Wu Minqi said.

Practicing on other dishes…

Jiang Feng thought about the sales of cranberry juice at noon.

Practice is good, practice is great! Wu Minqi’s practice made him an extra 1000 yuan this afternoon.

That’s one three-thousandth of the renovation cost!

Round it up, and Taifeng Building can open for business!

Of the five pots of porridge cooked in the morning, two pots hadn’t been sold yet, and in the kitchen, there were only large sand pots available. The properly cooked Eight Treasure Porridge had all been transferred by Mrs. Wang Xiulian into a large iron pot to keep warm.

After resting for an hour at noon, Jiang Feng sat outside browsing Weibo and enjoying “A Profligate’s Self-cultivation,” laughing like a kid under two hundred pounds and listening to Ji Yue gossip about the latest news.

“The variety show of your competition will be broadcast at 8 pm tonight on a certain video platform,” Ji Yue said while scrolling through the news. “Oh my goodness, the preview featuring Zhang Guanghang they released is just too handsome!”

“He’s even more handsome in person,” Jiang Feng said. “He’s not photogenic.”

“Oh my gosh,” Ji Yue felt like she was suffocating, “It’s all because I’m nearsighted and didn’t wear glasses. I couldn’t see clearly who was on stage from the audience seats, and I’m sure the provincial station didn’t do justice to my Zhang Guanghang!”

Jiang Feng felt that Ji Yue was exhibiting classic fan-filter layers. The provincial station’s screens were fine, and the cameras all had filters. He thought he looked quite handsome on screen, just a bit less so than Zhang Guanghang.

“Jiang Feng, seriously, find some time to invite Zhang Guanghang out for a meal. Just ask him directly to come to our restaurant,” Ji Yue wasn’t just interested in wine.

Jiang Feng thought it made sense; the game hints indicated that Zhang Guanghang was a key target for poaching, so it would be good to invite him for a meal to chat and bond. Relationships among the people from the China community are all forged through meals. If you’re not close, it just means you haven’t eaten enough together; a few more meals and you’ll be friends.

Zhang Guanghang, being of Chinese-French descent, should appreciate a fusion of Chinese and French cuisine.

When the break ended, Jiang Feng returned to the kitchen to continue making porridge.

By the afternoon, seven more pots of Eight Treasure Porridge had accumulated in the kitchen.

Mrs. Wang Xiulian, looking at the Eight Treasure Porridge, felt a headache coming on. Having a son who squanders family resources is truly worrisome. She estimated the amount of porridge and then turned to Ji Yue, “Yueyue, change the price of the Eight Treasure Porridge at the door to 3 yuan.”

This was probably the biggest promotion the Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant had ever offered, an unprecedentedly low price. A plate of their cucumber salad (also made by Jiang Feng) sold for eight yuan, so a bowl of Eight Treasure Porridge for 3 yuan was an unimaginably low price.

So when dinner time came, regardless of whether the customers liked porridge or even wanted to have porridge, they couldn’t help but order a bowl of it.

By closing time, there were only enough portions left for two bowls of Eight Treasure Porridge in the kitchen.

Wang Xiulian packed the remaining porridge into a big bowl and stashed it in the fridge. She turned to Jiang Feng, “Son, you’ll have porridge for breakfast tomorrow. It’s good for your health.”

Jiang Feng: “…Okay, Mom.”

After toiling over porridge for a whole day, Jiang Feng reeked of Eight Treasure Porridge, like a human embodiment of the dish, spreading the scent wherever he went, all the way back to his dormitory.

Wang Hao was furiously typing away at his computer keyboard, his face etched with indignation.

“What are you writing?” Jiang Feng casually asked.

“A denunciation!” Wang Hao responded with righteous wrath, “Those guys who nitpick at my… favorite book, act all high and mighty, criticize everything, rant and rave, and put on the ugly face of ‘I am your daddy’—I’m going to formally declare war on them.”

Eager for some drama, Jiang Feng excitedly went over to watch. Wang Hao’s WPS document was filled with an impressive array of idioms as if he’d utilized his entire linguistic arsenal.

“Are you taking this fight public with your main account? Which book is it?”

“How could I? I’m definitely using a throwaway account! It’s just some crappy little book—you wouldn’t like it, Brother Feng.” Wang Hao continued his fervent battle before the screen, looking as if he wished he could crawl through the internet cable with his flabby and muscular arms, ready for a fight to the death with those he denounced.

After enjoying a bit of gossip, Jiang Feng went to wash up.

The next day, upon waking up, Jiang Feng turned on his phone to check for updates on “A Prodigal’s Self-Cultivation” but instead stumbled upon the denunciation Wang Hao had written the night before.

It must be a special fate that brings us together-

Jiang Feng spent a minute getting that song out of his head, got dressed quietly, and managed to leave the dorm for the Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant before Wang Hao woke up. The breakfast was extremely rich today, as Jiang Jiankang had gotten up early to make steamed buns with pickled cabbage and pork. The pickled cabbage was sent over by Mrs. Jiang a couple of days ago via express delivery. Jiang Jiankang’s only regret was that the meat inside today’s buns wasn’t from Da Hua; her superbly plump figure would have made for a delicious filling for pickled cabbage pork buns.

Jiang Jiankang seldom made buns, but that had nothing to do with Jiang Feng, whose breakfast consisted of the Eight Treasure Porridge, left in the fridge to cool overnight and then heated up carelessly on the stove.

Parents always pity their children. Seeing Jiang Feng sip the thin sweet porridge, Wang Xiulian asked with concern, “Son, would you like some bun filling?”

Jiang Feng was moved and replied, “Yes!”

“Jiang Jiankang, give some of your bun filling to your son,” Wang Xiulian instructed.

Following his wife’s command, Jiang Jiankang used his chopsticks to scrape a little pickled cabbage for Jiang Feng, but there was only a tiny amount of meat in it, almost negligible.

“Dad,” Jiang Feng looked at Jiang Jiankang.

Jiang Jiankang scraped over a bit more pickled cabbage, still with no meat.

Jiang Feng sighed as he looked at the pickled cabbage in his bowl mixed with Eight Treasure Porridge.

Ah, the love of parents is often too burdensome to bear.

“Dad, can you give me some meat, please?”

“Son, the pickled cabbage is the tasty part. Eat your porridge with it—it’s the perfect accompaniment.”

“Dad, if I boil eight pots this afternoon and they don’t sell, both of us will have to eat porridge tomorrow.”

“Eh, son, I just remembered, there’s still a bun in the pot! Hang on, I’ll go get it for you!” Suddenly remembering, Jiang Jiankang jumped to his feet.

Jiang Feng watched Jiang Jiankang.

Men, huh..

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