The Game of Life

Chapter 546: Chapter 544: Chicken Bean Blossoms

Jiang Weiming placed the bowl firmly on the table, a small bowl, half filled with tofu pudding and half with water.

“There’s more in the kitchen; I’ll bring them out for you,” Jiang Weiming said with a smile.

“Granduncle Weiming, let us help you carry them,” Jiang Feng offered.

“No need, it’s just a few steps away. There are food containers in the kitchen; I’ll just pack the bowls in the containers and bring them over in one go,” Jiang Weiming said as he turned back into the kitchen.

After Jiang Weiming left, everyone’s gaze inevitably fell on the bowl on the table.

“Why did third uncle decide to make tofu pudding for us today?” Jiang Jiankang, unable to contain his curiosity, spoke first, “I’ll get some sugar; tofu pudding must be mixed with sugar to taste good.”

Jiang Jiankang was a firm believer in sweet treats.

“Dad, this doesn’t seem like tofu pudding,” Jiang Feng stopped Jiang Jiankang from searching for sugar, “this should be chicken broth tofu pudding.”

“Chicken tofu pudding?” Zhang Guanghang’s voice carried a hint of surprise, “It’s actually chicken tofu pudding.”

“You’ve had it before?” Jiang Feng inwardly thought it was typical of Zhang, having tried even such legendary dishes.

“A few times,” Zhang Guanghang said, noticing everyone looking at him he quickly explained, “Although chicken tofu pudding and poached cabbage in warm broth are both high-end clear-soup dishes, the difference between them is actually quite significant. Poached cabbage in warm broth is a state banquet dish, famous and rarely seen in ordinary restaurants, and even high-end restaurants seldom sell it. But chicken tofu pudding is more common, and some restaurants sell it at very low prices.”

“Still, I’ve never seen chicken tofu pudding made like this,” Zhang Guanghang continued as he admired the bowl of chicken tofu pudding on the table, unable to stop the praise in his eyes, “I’ve had that from both humble eateries and famous shops. Although it looks like tofu pudding, you can tell the difference when it’s served; it’s just made to resemble it. Even Master Wu Xiujun (Grandpa Wu Minqi) could not produce chicken tofu pudding as deceptively real as this; if you hadn’t reminded me, I couldn’t have imagined this was chicken tofu pudding.”

“It’s my first time seeing chicken tofu pudding like this,” Zhang Guanghang emphasized again.

Everyone knew that chicken tofu pudding meant tasting chicken without seeing the meat, not resembling chicken, yet resembling chicken, and better than chicken, yet only Jiang Weiming had achieved it.

Clear as water, the white and fluffy soup, smoothly cut without any excess fibrous residue in small pieces of chicken mince, was placed in a small porcelain bowl that you could buy anywhere on the market for just a few bucks.

If it wasn’t for Jiang Feng knowing that Jiang Weiming had brought two cups of clear broth all the way from Magic City, who could have guessed before tasting that this bowl, which looked indistinguishable from ordinary tofu pudding, was actually chicken tofu pudding instead of the common kind made from soy powder?

Now, there was only one bowl of chicken tofu pudding on the table, and according to the Jiang family’s tradition of respecting the elderly, this bowl was naturally to be served to Mrs. Jiang.

“Suhua, would you like to try it first?” Mrs. Jiang asked politely before eating.

“No need; I don’t like tofu pudding, sweet or savory,” Chen Suhua shook her head and refused, “I’ll go to the living room and call Zaide and the others over, and bring the fruit plate as well.”

Mrs. Jiang nodded and didn’t insist, not really knowing what chicken tofu pudding was, assuming it was similar to sweet and savory tofu puddings, just with a different taste.

Mrs. Jiang, who didn’t know what chicken tofu pudding was, scooped up a large chunk, instantly taking away a third of the bowl.

The chicken mince, mixed with a bit of chicken broth, was brought to Mrs. Jiang’s mouth.

A bite.

A pause.

A hesitation.

An astonishment.

Mrs. Jiang looked at the chicken tofu pudding in the bowl with a trace of disbelief in her voice, “This isn’t tofu pudding?”

“No, if it’s not tofu pudding, what is it?” Mrs. Jiang began to doubt her senses.

“This should be tofu pudding.”

“No, this cannot be tofu pudding.”

“How come it tastes like meat? Like chicken and like pork; Feng, what exactly is this chicken tofu pudding?”

Seeing that his grandma finally cued him, Jiang Feng quickly explained, “Grandma, chicken tofu pudding isn’t tofu pudding. The soup is made from chicken broth, and the thing that looks like tofu pudding is made from minced chicken and ham.”

“Mom, how does it taste?” Jiang Jiankang eagerly asked his own mother.

“It’s very fresh, especially fresh, even fresher than the soup Dad made for last year’s New Year,” Mrs. Jiang referred to the clear broth ‘whole family fortune’ that Sir made last New Year’s, “I felt different as soon as I tasted it… it just wasn’t like anything else.”

“It’s like having a whole chicken in one’s mouth!” Mrs. Jiang finally found the word to describe it.

Jiang Jianguo, Jiang Jiankang, and their brothers were all salivating at the thought.

They too wanted to experience the feeling of having a whole chicken in their mouths.

Mrs. Jiang took another spoonful of chicken tofu pudding, this time with less minced chicken and more clear soup in the spoon.

She took a mouthful, chewed a few times, and swallowed.

Mrs. Jiang smacked her lips.

“It’s indeed very fresh, but the flavor is a bit too delicate; it doesn’t have much taste,” Mrs. Jiang felt a bit regretful.

Chicken tofu pudding was already a clear, light soup dish. Mrs. Jiang’s age meant her sense of taste was diminished, needing stronger flavors than most, so her comment could be largely disregarded.

As Mrs. Jiang scooped a third spoonful, Jiang Weiming entered carrying a large food container.

It was a very simple yet luxurious container, with even carvings on its body, crafted from an unknown wood which looked very textured, an ordinary wooden food box.

Inside the box were several bowls, exuding understated luxury, ordinary yet extraordinary, chicken tofu pudding bowls that everyone dreamed of.

The normally quiet great-aunt, who had been sitting quietly even while Mrs. Jiang was eating the chicken tofu pudding, without showing too much eagerness, suddenly got up from the chair with a swoosh and, with a swift move, reached the door and skillfully took the food container from Jiang Weiming’s hands, her face beaming with a warm smile.

“Uncle Weiming, let me help you with that. It must have been quite the effort to make this and then deliver it to us specially,” the sycophant complimented without losing any grace.

The agility, sincerity, and quick reaction of Auntie impressed everyone in the Jiang Family, leaving them all in the dust.

Zhang Guanghang was totally stunned.

Auntie swiftly set the food container on the table and opened it layer by layer, taking out the chicken tofu pudding from inside. Without drawing attention, she snatched the bowl with the most in it and sat back down in her place.

Everyone rushed forward to grab the bowl they had their eyes on, including Zhang Guanghang who was fierce and precise in his pursuit, showing none of the elegance you’d expect from a wealthy gentleman.

Taking advantage of the scramble for the chicken tofu pudding, Auntie gave Jiang Weiming a brilliant smile and asked with concern, “Uncle Weiming, have you had any?”

Jiang Weiming felt happy seeing everyone scrambling for bowls, “I’ve had enough of this chicken tofu pudding when I was young. It’s no fun for me anymore. I made it especially for you all today.”

“I’ve also brought over Zaide and the others’ portions. Call them over to eat later. The kitchen is still busy, so I’ll head back to keep things going,” Jiang Weiming said with a smile.

“Sure thing, Uncle Weiming. I’ll bring the food container and bowls over later,” Auntie said enthusiastically.

While Auntie and Jiang Weiming talked, everyone else had already divided up the chicken tofu pudding on the table, leaving a few bowls with the least amount for Jiang Zaide and his group.

Jiang Feng, holding a small bowl and a spoon, looked at the chicken tofu pudding in his bowl and felt as if he was holding not just food, but a holy relic.

He even felt honored.

Jiang Feng scooped up a small piece of chicken tofu pudding, savoring it with the clear soup, and took a mouthful.

Just like Mrs. Jiang had said, it was like having an entire chicken in his mouth.

The deliciousness of an entire chicken melted on his tongue at that moment.

He even felt like there was half a pig in addition to the chicken.

Jiang Feng felt his descriptive words might have been led astray by Mrs. Jiang.

He swallowed.

The wonderful experience was over.

Jiang Feng carefully scooped up another small piece of chicken tofu pudding, with enough clear soup, and took another bite.

Marvelous!

Delicious!

Exquisite!

What were Michelin, Rolan, or any other intimidating, wealthy competitors in the face of this small bowl of chicken tofu pudding?

Could there possibly be anything more important in the world than savoring the bowl of chicken tofu pudding in front of him?

Practically everyone in the dining room squinted their eyes with happiness written all over their faces.

The indescribable delight of a top-grade broth dish.

When Chen Suhua led Jiang Zaide and the others into the dining room, what they saw was a scene that seemed like some bizarre ritual.

Each person had a fruit plate in hand, and Jiang Zaide wasn’t just holding a fruit plate but also tucked a disposable cup under his arm.

Chen Suhua: ?

Jiang Zaide: ???

Wang Hao & Jiang Xiaoran: (‧_‧?)

Although they didn’t know what had happened, everyone still consciously went over to the table to set down their fruit plates, and then they noticed the chicken tofu pudding.

Tofu pudding?

Jiang Zaide found it strange. Shouldn’t they be eating glutinous rice balls or lantern festival desserts during the Lantern Festival? What was tofu pudding doing here, especially without any sugar jars on the side?

Even though he found it odd, Jiang Zaide’s body honestly picked up the bowl closest to him.

“Dede!” Jiang Jianguo suddenly widened his eyes and scolded Jiang Zaide, startling him.

“Dad, what’s wrong?” Jiang Zaide was even somewhat frightened.

“How could you hold this bowl so rudely? You should hold it like this, with respect!” Jiang Jianguo said seriously.

Jiang Zaide: ?

My dad’s gone crazy?

Without saying anything, Jiang Zaide changed from grabbing to cradling the bowl.

Because the action of cradling the bowl was so awkward, he didn’t use the spoon at first. Instead, he brought the bowl to his lips and tasted the clear soup.

Jiang Zaide was shocked.

Without a word, he turned to Jiang Shoucheng and Jiang Xiaoran and said solemnly, “Hold it with respect.”