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The thick sauce was evenly poured over, clearly hinting at a sweet and sour flavor, and it was deep-fried too, golden and crispy—just the thing to win a child’s heart, like Han Youxin for example.

“Mommy, I want to eat that fish!” Han Youxin pointed at the chrysanthemum fish.

Wang Jing picked up a piece of chrysanthemum fish for him but her eyes were fixed on the chopped pepper fish head.

“Han, don’t you think this chopped pepper fish head is somewhat similar to Mr. Jiang’s style? Starting from the fish’s mouth and then pouring the oil,” Wang Jing commented.

“This dish was made by Jiang Feng, it must be something Master Jiang taught him,” Han Guishan noted, having looked over the menu previously.

“Oh right, silly me. I kept thinking Mr. Jiang was still in Shu,” Wang Jing exclaimed as she smacked her forehead.

“Mrs. Han is from Shu? What a coincidence, Editor Jiang is also from Shu!” Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang, sitting beside Wang Jing, chimed in.

“Is that so? May I ask which part of Shu Editor Jiang is from?” Wang Jing turned to Editor Jiang.

“I’m from the provincial city, but ever since I went to work in Magic City, I haven’t really gone back to Shu. It’s been many years since my last visit,” Editor Jiang finally stopped crying and started eating other dishes with his head down.

“What a coincidence, I’m also from the provincial city. I used to work as a waitress in a state hotel there and later went into business with my husband Han. It’s been years since I’ve been back as well,” Wang Jing sighed; since the death of her parents, she hadn’t often returned to Shu.

Having finished crying, Editor Jiang got down to business and recommended Chen Xiuxiu to Xu Cheng.

“Mr. Xu, this is the intern I mentioned to you before, with a remarkably keen sense of taste. I think she’s worth training,” Editor Jiang said.

Xu Cheng, having just tasted the chopped pepper fish head and found it quite pleasing, was in a good mood. He casually asked Chen Xiuxiu, “What did you taste in this Li Hongzhang hodgepodge?”

“The Shaoxing wine is a bit strong,” Chen Xiuxiu replied.

Xu Cheng nodded, having tasted it himself: “What year is the Shaoxing wine?”

“It’s a five-year vintage,” Chen Xiuxiu answered smoothly.

Of course, she was guessing.

Jiang Jiankang’s Shaoxing wine was basically all five years old; he would never bring out anything over five years for Jiang Feng to use.

Xu Cheng: ???

Editor Jiang: ???

The others: ???

Xu Cheng was dumbfounded himself; he had simply thrown out the question not expecting Chen Xiuxiu to come up with an answer.

Xu Cheng then picked up a piece of pig’s stomach from the Li Hongzhang hodgepodge, but he couldn’t discern the year of the Shaoxing wine either.

This time there were no tears; the Li Hongzhang hodgepodge served as a vent for his inner pressure. Once the pressure was vented, he naturally couldn’t cry anymore.

Shen Yao, impressed yet clueless, followed the lead and picked up a piece of pig’s stomach.

He hadn’t even identified the taste of Shaoxing wine—in fact, he didn’t even know what Shaoxing wine tasted like.

Editor Jiang also reached for the Li Hongzhang hodgepodge, picking up a piece of Magnolia Tablets and tasting it.

That feeling came over him again, that urge to cry.

Editor Jiang then bent over the table and started crying, this time with experience; he buried his head in his sleeve, with a couple of tissues tucked underneath for good measure.

Encouraged by the conversation, Xu Cheng then asked several more questions, such as the ingredient ratios for the chopped pepper fish head, and the fire control for frying the chrysanthemum fish. Chen Xiuxiu answered effortlessly and accurately.

By then, Editor Jiang’s second round of crying had ended, and Xu Cheng had mostly finished his inquiries. He couldn’t help but lean towards Editor Jiang and praise him, “You’ve really found me a great talent!”

While crying, Editor Jiang nodded and managed a smile.

There were only three stuffed chicken buns left, and Xu Cheng was not particularly interested in them. Han Youxin, never having seen them before, ate one; Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang, whose children were of marriageable age, ate another; and a married photographer, who wasn’t named because he had no part in the story, ate the last one.

The other dishes arrived in quick succession. As a child, Han Youxin had a fondness for sweet and sour dishes or grilled meats, so he favored Wu Minqi’s chrysanthemum fish and Zhang Guanghang’s French-style rosemary lamb chops the most and kept asking Wang Jing to serve him.

Mid-meal, Han Youxin suddenly looked up and said, “Mommy, I love you the most!”

Han Guishan: ???

“What about me?” Han Guishan eagerly vied for affection.

After some serious thought, Han Youxin said, “If Daddy lets me eat pickled vegetable dumplings, then I’ll love Daddy.”

Han Guishan: ???

Did I actually have a fake son? Why do I suddenly feel like hitting him?

Seeing Wang Jing beaming with joy and remembering how he had inadvertently messed up the room she tidied that morning without yet settling the score, Han Guishan suppressed the urge to go home and whack Han Youxin.

“Eating more coarse grains is good for your health.” Han Guishan silently served Han Youxin a pickled vegetable dumpling.

Han Youxin: ???

Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang was touched by the family dynamics of the Han trio, and the married photographer beside him, noticing his gaze fixed on Han Youxin, knew what he was thinking.

“Your grandson will be that age in a few years, won’t he?” the married photographer joked.

“That’s still a way off. For now, he’s just a little fluff ball to hold in the hands. My wife spends all day coddling and revolving around him, hardly finding time for herself,” Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang said, his pride and joy hardly containable, “Ah, all of a sudden I miss him. I was so busy yesterday I didn’t even video call him. Excuse me for a moment.”

As he spoke, Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang made a swift exit.

The married photographer couldn’t help but chuckle. This wasn’t slipping out to use the restroom; he clearly went out to make a video call.

But speaking of which, he too was starting to miss his wife.

However, at this time, she should be taking her nap. Well, might as well send a WeChat message to say hi.

The married photographer took out his phone and started to send a WeChat message.

After Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang left, he found a quiet corner with no one around. He felt his pocket and realized he didn’t have his earphones, but decided to make the video call anyway.

It connected quickly, and the face of his wife came into view.

“You old thing, why are you calling now? I just got the baby to sleep,” Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang’s wife glared at him from the other end of the call.

Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang could only offer a sheepish grin, whispering, “Didn’t I miss seeing the baby yesterday when we didn’t video call? I just missed him.”

“Just him?”

“How could that be? I definitely missed you, too, my wife!” Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang’s words were as sweet as honey, showering his wife with compliments as if they cost him nothing, going on to lavish her with praise.

After a series of rainbow farts, his wife contentedly shifted the phone camera towards their grandson.

In the cradle lay the grandson, not yet a year old, who had just had his head shaved a couple of days ago. He was sleeping sweetly with his eyes closed.

Suddenly, he smiled, as if he had dreamed of something delightful.

Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang also smiled along.

Looking at his little grandson on the phone, it was as if he was seeing his son from several decades ago.

He looked so similar, with his tiny nose, tiny mouth, and tiny eyes on his tiny face. When he was just born, his skin was red and wrinkly, as ugly as a little monkey.

His wife back then knew nothing, and even though others told her all babies are like that at birth, she still worried a lot. She’d wake him up in the middle of the night, all tense, and tell him, “Our son is so ugly, what if he can’t find a wife later on?”

Later on, he watched his son, whom his wife worried would be too ugly to find a wife, grow up bit by bit. His facial features became more distinct, he learned to run, to jump, to laugh, to cry, he became a man, got married, had children, and went from being a son to a father, becoming the pillar of a new family.

And now this tiny grandson, small enough to hold in his arms, will also grow up gradually, becoming a stand-tall man. Like his father and grandfather, he will marry and have children, taking on the responsibility of a family.

Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang let out a sigh.

It’s just that he wonders if he’ll live to see the birth of his great-grandson.

Even if he does, by that time, he reckons he’ll be too old to walk anymore, only able to sit in a wheelchair and watch him run, watch him jump, but unable to help him up when he falls.

“Why the sigh all of a sudden? Is your work in Beiping not going well?” Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang’s wife moved the phone back to herself.

“Everything’s going smoothly. We were just eating; I stepped out to give you a call,” Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang said.

“When can’t you make a call? Go back and enjoy your meal. You haven’t finished your interviews yet, right? Call later in the evening; I have to go eat as well, let’s hang up,” said Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang’s wife.

“Oh, there’s one more thing?” Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang said.

“What is it? Did you forget to bring something? Do you need me to send it over to you? How many days will you be in Beiping?”

“Wife, I love you.”

The video call ended.

6 minutes 39 seconds.

Suddenly, Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang felt that the chicken wrapped in lotus leaves he had just eaten really tasted quite good.

Although the taste wasn’t particularly excellent, it had a unique charm.

He planned to look up the recipe online later in the evening and try making it for his wife, son, and daughter-in-law when he got back.

The little grandson still didn’t have a full set of teeth, so he definitely couldn’t eat that.

This restaurant was really good, claiming it was the world’s best wouldn’t be an overstatement.

“Ding, received recognition from a customer, task progress (4/10).”

Jiang Feng’s smile deepened.

Wu Minqi cast a curious glance at him.

Jiang Feng: …

Jiang Feng quietly moved closer to Sang Ming and asked softly, “Did you notice Qiqi gave me a strange look just now?”

Sang Ming nodded.

“Do you know why?”

Sang Ming looked troubled.

“Do you want the truth?”

“Speak!”

“Feng, your laugh just now was a bit creepy.”

Jiang Feng: ???