The Game of Life

Chapter 554: Chapter 552 Xu Zhenxiang

For the average person, workdays are painful, especially the workdays after a holiday.

A delightful meal with family and friends, perhaps followed by a stroll and a movie, or at least staying home to play a couple of games with online friends—people usually have a full and joyful time during the holidays, even staying up later than usual to sleep.

Such joyful holidays, even without a day off, would make the subsequent workday unbearable.

But Han Guishan was different.

He had been looking forward to this day for a long time.

To prepare for it, he had planned his work well in advance, instructing his assistant to reschedule everything after four pm to other times and not to disturb him unless it was something important.

He also reminded Wang Jing not to go to the beauty salon today and told Han Youxin to leave school promptly after class without dawdling.

All these preparations were because of Taifeng Building’s reopening.

He had been waiting for this day for too long; for over a dozen days, he had almost forgotten what Jiang Weiguo’s double-crisp cooked in oil, Wu Minqi’s Mapo Tofu, Jiang Feng’s Sweet and Sour Yam, Zhang Guanghang’s lamb chops, and all the dishes that he never managed to get from Master Jiang Weiming, as well as the dishes from other chefs whose names he couldn’t remember, tasted like.

Even the pickled vegetable buns he hadn’t had in days.

Han Guishan was a regular at Taifeng Building, almost treating it as a cafeteria on a daily basis; the receptionist who greeted guests could recognize him and call him by his name.

Sitting in his office, Han Guishan felt that the documents on his desk were an eyesore and couldn’t focus on them; he put down his work and started thinking about what to eat tonight.

Sweet and Sour Yam and pickled vegetable buns were a must; during the New Year, he took Han Youxin with him to visit Wang Jing’s family in the Shu region and lately hadn’t been in the mood for spicy food; instead, he found himself missing Zhang Guanghang’s creamy soup. Han Guishan mentally listed a few must-have dishes for the evening and added a few others that were possible to try, only to realize there were too many dishes for three people to finish.

After pondering for a moment, Han Guishan took out his phone and dialed Xu Cheng’s number.

At this time, Xu Cheng was at home analyzing this year’s chef competition judging panel list.

Unlike Han Guishan, who tended to handle everything personally and worked at his desk until his hair fell out, Xu Cheng barely worked and would shirk his work whenever possible because as the boss—if he decided to slack off, his employees couldn’t do anything about it. He had more than one son; unlike Han Guishan, who had a child later in life and whose son was just in elementary school at over fifty, Xu Cheng had long handed over the strenuous work to his sons and acted only as a decision-maker. In his youth, Xu Cheng didn’t like to work; he spent his days eating, drinking, and traveling around the world. As he got older, this inclination only grew stronger.

Xu Cheng looked at the list with a headache, silently crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the waste bin in front of him.

He wanted to shirk, but he couldn’t.

If “Taste” was his life’s work, then the chef competition was his pride.

It’s just that sometimes, pride can also be a headache, and Xu Cheng even regretted why he had set it to be reevaluated every four years.

If only he had set it to be every ten years instead.

“Sigh,” Xu Cheng exhaled.

The phone rang.

Xu Cheng picked up his phone and saw that it was Han Guishan calling; he pressed the answer button, “Hello?”

“Old Xu, what are you busy with? Are you free tonight? I’ll treat you to dinner!” Han Guishan said excitedly.

Hearing about a dinner invitation, Xu Cheng became somewhat interested, “Where are you thinking?”

“Where else but Taifeng Building? They’re reopening today; they’re not open for lunch, only in the afternoon. It’s a workday today, so we’d better go early, say four-thirty, and we’re sure to get the Sweet and Sour Yam,” Han Guishan thought through his plans with a rap.

“Taifeng Building is reopening today?” Xu Cheng hadn’t been paying much attention to this, only remembering that Taifeng Building had closed over the New Year’s holiday to give its staff Beiping’s longest paid (base salary) holiday; he had even silently admired the Jiang Family’s whims at the time.

“How about we just go to Yonghe House? Eight-treasure House is also an option, and they’ve recently launched some nice dim sum. The new Master White Chef they got last year is very skilled, and his name is likely to appear in this year’s chef competition,” Xu Cheng suggested, “Taifeng Building is just reopening today, and many dishes may not be ready. I suggest you go tomorrow.”

Han Guishan, who dined in the cafeteria without considering whether the menu was complete as long as there was food, responded, “What Eight-treasure House, it’s too far from my office; let’s just go to Taifeng Building. It’s settled, I’ll reserve a private room and I still have lots of documents to deal with here, so I’ll have to hang up. See you later.”

Xu Cheng: …

Xu Cheng sent a message to his assistant to arrange a car to Taifeng Building at four o’clock, then continued to agonize over the judging panel list.

At 4:37 pm, the Han Guishan family and Xu Cheng arrived at Taifeng Building almost simultaneously.

“Uncle Xu.” Han Youxin, the chubby little boy, politely greeted Xu Cheng. He had lost a little weight before the New Year, but during the holiday, he quickly gained it all back.

“Youxin has gotten taller too,” Xu Cheng said with his eyes open, telling a blatant lie.

After a few basic pleasantries, Xu Cheng and Han Guishan’s family followed the waiter upstairs to their usual private room with familiarity.

Having not been there for over half a month, Han Guishan felt a sense of warmth sitting in the private room.

“Can we order now?” Han Guishan asked.

“Sure,” the waiter nodded.

Han Guishan picked up the tablet, quickly ordered the Sweet and Sour Yam, then started looking at the other dishes.

“Hey, you guys have new dishes, eh? This crisp-fried eel and squirrel-shaped mandarin fish are both Suzhou cuisine, right? Did you hire new chefs? Dong Shi, Dong Li, do you know about these two, Xu?” Han Guishan was pleasantly surprised to see the new items on the menu.

Hearing him say this, Xu Cheng and Wang Jing both leaned in to look at the tablet, and even Han Youxin craned his neck to peek at the tablet in Han Guishan’s hands.

“Dad, I want to eat the mandarin fish!” Han Youxin said loudly.

“Sure!” Han Guishan readily agreed.

“Add the crisp-fried eel too,” Xu Cheng said. “It sounds familiar, I think they’re the two apprentices of Master Huang from Huang Ji Restaurant. I’ve heard about them before, if they’re not twins, they must be brothers. I remember they are actual brothers.”

“Huang Ji Restaurant was up for sale last year; they must be Master Huang’s apprentices. To think they’ve come all the way to Beiping to find work—that’s quite the distance,” Han Guishan commented. “This is great; now I can enjoy Suzhou dishes at Taifeng Building too. I knew it was the right decision to come to Taifeng Building tonight—look, they’ve got new dishes on the menu.”

“It’s not like Master Huang himself is here; what are you so excited about?” Xu Cheng lost interest after a few glances at the menu and failing to find the Eight Treasures Chestnut Fragrant Pigeon. “You go ahead and order. I’ll have my assistant buy some pastries from Eight-treasure House and send them over. I think they’ve got a new pastry out today, you can try that too later.”

“What’s so special about pastries? They’re not even breakfast.” Han Guishan wasn’t interested in pastries and continued to browse the menu.

The next second, Han Guishan let out an exclamation.

“Ah, Xu, it’s a good thing I didn’t listen to you and go to Eight-treasure House—Master Jiang Weiming has a dish on the menu today!” Han Guishan was so excited he nearly jumped out of his chair. He had only seen that Jiang Weiming’s name was highlighted (meaning there were dishes available) but hadn’t clicked to see the details.

“What dish?” Xu Cheng craned his neck.

Han Guishan clicked on Jiang Weiming’s name. Under the name, there was only one dish, limited to four servings, with no purchase limit.

Chicken Tofu Pudding, 688 per serving.

“Hurry, order, buy them all, place the order!” Xu Cheng was as excited as a college student who had stayed up for the midnight rush of Singles’ Day shopping spree years ago.

Just as Han Guishan clicked to add the dish, before he could confirm the order, only two servings of Chicken Tofu Pudding were left.

Xu Cheng: ?

I came so early and there are still people fighting with me for the dish?

How could someone have the heart to compete with me—a fragile, helpless, and pitiful man who hasn’t had the chance to eat Master Jiang’s Chicken Tofu Pudding in decades?

“There are only two servings left, do you still want them?” Han Guishan was a bit puzzled by Xu Cheng’s excitement.

Thanks to his wife being from Shu, Han Guishan knew about Chicken Tofu Pudding and had eaten it quite a few times, ranging from a few dozen to a few hundred yuan. He thought it was all right—it was just a novelty and in his opinion, it wasn’t even as tasty as braised pork. Taifeng Building’s price was the highest he had seen, and even if it was made by Jiang Weiming, he thought Xu Cheng didn’t need to be so excited.

After all, it wasn’t like Xu Cheng hadn’t eaten Roasted Pig; he had never seen Xu Cheng so eager back then.

“Of course we want it, quick, place the order, oh, why are you so slow, I’ll do it!” Xu Cheng snatched the tablet from Han Guishan’s hands, rapidly completed the order, and then handed the tablet back to Han Guishan.

His hands moved as though they had been single for sixty years.

Han Guishan was momentarily startled before calmly returning to his ordering.

“Xu, that pastry from Eight-treasure House you mentioned—was it really that good? How about we go to Eight-treasure House for lunch tomorrow?” Han Guishan asked.

“What Eight-treasure House? Oh, pastries, right… Actually, they are just okay. It’s fine for the assistant to buy some. No need to go there specially for it. Let’s continue to dine at Taifeng Building tomorrow at noon, come early, let’s be there by eleven.”