The Game of Life

On the first day Liu Qian didn’t come for dinner, Mrs. Wang Xiulian missed her.

On the second day Liu Qian didn’t come for dinner, Mr. Jiang Jiankang missed her.

On the third day Liu Qian didn’t come for dinner, comrade Jiang Feng-

No, that’s not right, the third day was the nth, and Jiang Feng had to get ready for the competition. Besides, Jiang Feng didn’t miss Liu Qian.

Liu Qian and Wu Minqi had both brought pickles from home when they returned to school. Wu Minqi had brought a large jar, pickled by her grandfather, rivaling the pickles made by Jiang Weiming in flavor and distinctiveness. Liu Qian brought a small jar, filled with tender ginger, carrots, cowpeas, and so on. No one knew what it tasted like because she couldn’t resist snacking on it while waiting for the food.

“Crunch, crunch.”

By the time Jiang Feng came out carrying the dish, the fate of that jar of pickles was just like the crispy meat her mother had fried over New Year; only a shallow layer of pickle juice remained.

At that moment, Liu Qian watched Jiang Feng’s expression of panic and it was exactly the same as when she heard her mother asking for the crispy meat during the live broadcast.

By the way, even though Liu Qian didn’t make it onto the Weibo hot search list on the first day of the New Year, her memes did go viral. Even the class group chat Jing Feng was in used Liu Qian’s memes for emoji battles.

Aside from Wang Hao, only Wu Minqi and Ji Yue knew about Jiang Feng talcing part in the Good Taste Cooking Competition. Ji Yue was so swamped with work from lying around like a salted fish during the New Year vacation that she was practically going bald. Wang Hao had classes, and Wu Minqi was preparing for the auditions the day after tomorrow, whereas Jiang Feng’s parents had decided to close their shop for a day to support their son’s participation in the competition.

The couple went to indulge themselves at Imperial Meal Tavern.

Good Taste Company had secured a large plot of land on the outskirts for the preliminary selection site, which wasn’t accessible by metro. With a heavy heart, Jiang Feng set off alone, carrying an empty backpack, his pockets containing nothing but his ID card and phone.

He embarked early in the morning and after a series of transfers from the metro to the bus, bus to another bus, and bus to a shared bicycle, and after more than an hour of travel, he finally arrived at the venue as informed by the organizers.

From afar, Jiang Feng could see the very prominent banner of the Good Taste Cooking Competition. The location was in the suburbs, surrounded by fields; a few more kilometers ahead lay the authentic countryside. For these preliminaries, the organizers had indeed put much thought into securing such a vast outdoor venue for a hundred participants per session.

Despite its remote location, the place was bustling with activity, crowded enough to justify the description of “a sea of people.” There were not only contestants but also friends and relatives who had come to cheer them on, plus a hundred public judges and dozens of staff members—amounting to several hundred people in total.

The crowd buzzed, and the noise was deafening.

“Contestants, please enter through the entrance on the right. Families, please don’t come this way anymore. Contestants, head to the entrance on the right and show your ID!” a few staff members, almost hoarse from shouting into megaphones, announced exhaustively within the crowd.

Following the staff’s instructions, Jiang Feng found the entrance on the right to enter the venue. There were no complex checks; one simply had to show the ID to the staff for a computer-verified match, after which they would receive a randomly assigned contestant number and were ready to prepare for the competition.

Jiang Feng’s contestant number was 13, quite an early number.

The competition area was vast, with ten cooking stations to a row and ten rows in total, forming a very standard square. There was also substantial space between each station; Jiang Feng estimated that with such spacing, it wouldn’t be easy to inadvertently affect others unless it was done on purpose.

The cooking station wasn’t large, but it was spotless. Although compact, it had all necessary equipment, and the variety of kitchen tools was quite complete. There was just one stove, and the entire range of Good Taste seasoning products was neatly arranged on the counter—Jiang Feng even felt that the oil in the oil pot was shimmering. The ingredients were laid out on plates: two tomatoes, two eggs, a handful of scallions, a clove of garlic, and a piece of tender ginger. Jiang Feng also stole glances at other cooking stations, finding the quality of the tomatoes consistently high; at a glance, they seemed nearly identical in size.

In this scene, Jiang Feng couldn’t help but think of Han Guishan’s ever-diligent assistant who exhausted himself in service. Jiang Feng wondered how much Good Taste Company must be paying on average to inspire such wholehearted dedication from their staff.

Apart from the contestants and staff within the competition venue, some local livestreamers from a certain platform were also present, with four carrying selfie sticks. Each was dolled up nicely, walking around the area.

With more than twenty minutes before the competition was to begin and many contestants still not present, Jiang Feng wondered why the livestreaming platform didn’t choose a more auspicious number than four. In the midst of thinking about their peculiar choice, he saw Liu Qian crawling out from under a cooking station in the first row.

Jiang Feng:…

All right, he knew where she had been these past few days. It was just that her method of making an appearance was a bit unique.

“Okay, I believe everyone has had a good look at the structure under the cooking station just now. Now let’s take the opportunity, before the competition starts, to fulfill our advertising duties. As usual, let’s give a demonstration of the seasoning products provided by Good Taste!” Liu Qian, rarely holding a selfie stick, had applied light makeup.

However, while the competition’s cooking stations were clean, the floor wasn’t. It was unclear how long Liu Qian had been under a cooking station, but her pants and shirt were covered in dust, and her hair was somewhat disheveled.

“Let’s start with the oil. This is specially provided by Good Taste Company: extra-virgin olive oil from olives grown in Andalusia, Spain. As everyone knows, Andalusia is synonymous with the top-grade extra-virgin olive oil. Good Taste Company’s extra-virgin olive oil contains a high amount of unsaturated fatty acids, a rich variety of fat-soluble vitamins such as vitamins A, D, E, F, and carotenoids, as well as antioxidants, and it’s cholesterol-free with a very high human digestive absorption rate. It’s suitable for all ages— nutritious, healthy, and delicious,” Liu Qian advertised with a sincere face.

Jiang Feng could no longer bear to listen and casually remarked from behind her, “That’s rapeseed oil.”

Olive oil is generally used for frying, grilling, or as a dressing for cold dishes, and it’s not typically used for stir-frying. Liu Qian was making up stories in front of the camera, and a single search on the internet by her audience members would reveal her fabrications.

“Ah, rapeseed oil, you…” Liu Qian turned around, stunned, and then her expression changed to delight, “Wow, Club President, you signed up for the competition too! Minqi has also signed up; her turn is the day after tomorrow at four in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, I know. Are you live streaming here?” asked Jiang Feng.

“Mhm, I have to live stream from here these days. A thousand a day, but the food they serve is a bit hard to swallow—too greasy in the boxed meals,” Liu Qian said.

If Liu Qian said it was bad, then it must be pretty bad.

“By the way, Club President, I’ll let you in on a secret: today’s competition is about making scrambled eggs with tomatoes!” Liu Qian said.

Jiang Feng:…

He felt that probably everyone here had already figured that out…

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