The Game of Life TGOL

Chapter 451: Chapter 449: Killing to Strike the Heart

About fifteen minutes later, Ji Yue returned to the private room and began searching for her cell phone.

Jiang Feng, Wu Minqi, and Zhang Guanghang had spent less than five minutes discussing and unanimously felt that a beating was the best option; even Ji Xia, who had already been thrashed, nodded in agreement.

“Does anyone know where Xue usually goes at noon? Doesn’t she stay in the shop? I searched both the private room and the hall but didn’t see her,” Ji Yue asked while making a phone call.

“Doesn’t she usually nap in one of the private rooms on the third floor? Did you check there?” Jiang Feng asked.

“Of course I did. I’ve looked at every room,” Ji Yue said, looking at her phone, “See, she didn’t answer the phone either. If she were napping, she would’ve picked up when the ring sounded.”

“Could she have gone out to buy something?” Wu Minqi, who occasionally went out shopping, suggested.

“I don’t think so. Xue usually stocks up a lot at home, buying things like toilet paper, toothpaste, towels, and toothbrushes from wholesale markets,” Ji Yue explained. “Xiaxia, do you have any idea where your sister went off to?”

Suddenly cued, Ji Xia lowered her head in thought and came up with something, “She might be meeting a friend. I remember she answered a phone call this morning about someone coming to pick her up at a certain time.”

“A friend?” the three of them echoed in unison.

Right there and then, Ji Yue couldn’t care less about her brother’s mess; all she wanted to know was what other friends Ji Xue had, apart from them.

Especially the kind that would come to pick her up specifically.

“Xiaxia, do you know which friend your sister went to meet?” Ji Yue asked.

“I don’t know,” Ji Xia shook his head honestly.

“It’s okay, no worries. We can wait for Ji Xue to come back and then ask her,” Ji Yue decided to bring the conversation back to the main point, “Gentlemen, have you thought of any good ways to discipline my brother?”

“Beat him up,” Jiang Feng said.

“Beat him twice,” Wu Minqi said.

“Hit him hard,” Zhang Guanghang said.

Ji Yue: …

“Beating him is useless. This guy remembers the food but not the beating. After a beating, he behaves for three days at most. I need something that will make him terrified, leave a deep impression, fill him with regret, compel him to mend his ways, cleanse his soul, and instill fear in him so that every time he thinks about it, he shudders, his hair stands on end, and his legs tremble, ensuring he never re-offends,” Ji Yue used all the idioms she had learned in her life to produce the most idiomatic sentence she had ever spoken.

After giving it careful thought, Jiang Feng suggested, “How about feeding him wontons?”

“Three bowls a day for three consecutive days, and tell him if he messes up again, he’ll have to eat them for a week.”

Ji Yue shivered deeply and gave Jiang Feng a look: “You’re so cruel.”

Jiang Feng: …

Please take back that stepmother-from-a-Disney-movie stare.

Do you know how much art students envy the privilege of eating three bowls a day for three days?

Zhang Guanghang thought seriously for a moment and said, “Orchid, I remember you bought a box of supplementary books for your brother, right?”

Ji Yue nodded; that box of books had cost her more than a month’s salary—a load many people may never work through in their lifetime.

“Actually, I think it’s good that your mother wants to take him back home. After all, your brother knows how to scale walls, and he can’t be controlled at school. He might even run away. If your mother keeps an eye on him at home, and the security guard at the community gate is vigilant, the chance of a successful escape would be much smaller,” Zhang Guanghang first analyzed, then put forward his view, consistent with his usual way of doing things.

“I remember your family’s original plan was to send him back to international school for his junior year of high school next year. Your brother is good at math, physics, and chemistry, so he would definitely have no problem with the independent admissions tests abroad. If you really want him to learn a lesson and taste hardship, why not make him finish that box of supplementary books you bought him? He can only return to international school when he’s done,” his words were incisive and hit home hard.

Zhang Guanghang’s words made the three college students who had gone through more than a decade of severe test-oriented education shiver, recalling the years they were dominated by the fear of Wang Houxiong, Xue Jinxing, and Qu Yixian.

“That’s vicious,” the three of them couldn’t help but exclaim.

Academic slacker Ji Xia: ???

A true academic slacker doesn’t even know who Wang Houxiong, Xue Jinxing, and Qu Yixian are.

“Brilliant, this method is great, I need to call my mom about this!” Ji Yue sincerely felt that Zhang Guanghang’s ingenious plan would let her brother experience what she called a ‘socialist thrashing.’

The goad of test-oriented education.

Ji Yue went to the next private room to call her mother. Since it was a private call dodging the crowd, it must contain some matters she didn’t want to reveal to everyone.

Jiang Feng turned to look at Ji Xia and sincerely remarked, “Xiaxia, it’s a good thing your sister didn’t think of this trick back then.”

Forget about Wang Houxiong and Qu Yixian, even Xue Jinxing alone might be enough to break Ji Xia down.

No, it probably wouldn’t even get to Xue Jinxing; simply flowering sesame seeds would suffice.

Ji Xia looked utterly clueless.

“By the way, Xiaxia, get ready for tonight. When we get back, I want to test your noodle pulling skills,” Jiang Feng said.

Ji Xia’s eyes lit up: “Master, are you going to start teaching me noodle pulling?”

Jiang Feng: No, you’re going to start teaching me noodle pulling.

Jiang Feng nodded and smiled, “As your master, I just want to see if you’ve slackened or regressed. After all, culinary skills can grow rusty without practice, just like sailing against the current: if you don’t advance, you fall back.”

“I’ve been busy having you practice basic knife skills lately and have neglected the white chef section. I believe while practicing red chef techniques, you shouldn’t slack off on the white chef skills, which are all about experience and foundational strength and shouldn’t be neglected in daily practice,” Jiang Feng said flawlessly, leaving no room for fault-finding.

Ji Xia nodded, half-understanding.

Wu Minqi smiled silently.

Zhang Guanghang saw through the ruse but kept quiet.

Jiang Feng picked up the lukewarm Coke that he had long ignored, which was no longer cold, and gulped down a big swig.

“Actually, your level in noodle pulling is already quite good. As long as you practice more and learn a few more things, in a few years, you could go into any restaurant in Beiping and become a specialized noodle chef, a Master White Chef,” Jiang Feng said.

“At first, what you wanted to learn from me was Cooking Porridge, which I will teach you slowly in the future. I might not be able to give you much guidance on noodle pulling, only play a supervisory role, but I’m also skilled in making one or two other types of dough-based snacks. For instance, do you remember the Suzhou-style mooncakes from Eight-treasure House that I gave you around Mid-Autumn Festival? It’s those kinds; when you have time and want to learn, I can teach you as well.”

“So you have to work hard, Xiaxia. Otherwise, ending up like Ji Yue’s little brother, only able to make tutoring books at home, is a very sad outcome,” Jiang Feng said with a smile.

Unnoticed, Ji Yue’s little brother had become an exemplary negative role model. Not long ago, Ji Xia herself was the material for a negative role model.

She was clearly a well-rounded child, academically and athletically proficient—good at math, physics, and chemistry, able to scale walls and climb buildings—she just lacked a bit of socialist roughing up.

So now the socialist roughing up has arrived.

Late, but here.

Ji Xia nodded somewhat perfunctorily, her eyes fixed on Jiang Feng’s Coke.

“If you want to drink Coke, go get it yourself from downstairs. You can only take one canned drink, and only one can, ha. Drinking too much is bad for your teeth,” Jiang Feng said.

“Thank you, Master!” Ji Xia excitedly ran out.

Jiang Feng shook his head helplessly, opened his mouth to say something to Wu Minqi but was preempted by her.

“Fengfeng, when did you learn to make Suzhou-style mooncakes?” Wu Minqi asked curiously.

After all, it’s common knowledge that Jiang Feng’s white chef skills were not that great, only his Cooking Porridge was known to be good.

Jiang Feng coughed awkwardly a couple of times, not expecting that Wu Minqi would take his boastful words to Ji Xia so seriously. He even reflected for a moment whether all the random life advice he had been giving Ji Xia these days was taken seriously and remembered by his own Qiqi.

“I’ve been thinking about learning it recently,” Jiang Feng said.

Wu Minqi & Zhang Guanghang: …

This master-apprentice pair really are bold to teach and bold to learn.

The atmosphere suddenly became awkward.

Just as Jiang Feng was thinking about whether he should stand up and say “I’m going to the restroom” to break the awkward silence, his phone’s ringtone rang at the perfect moment, dissolving the tension.

Since Jiang Feng could answer the phone now, Wu Minqi and Zhang Guanghang could continue to feel awkward if they wished.

The incoming call was from Ji Xue.

This was a rare occurrence, Ji Xue rarely made phone calls to save on phone bills.

“Hello,” he pressed the answer button.

“Hello, this is Ji Xue,” Ji Xue’s voice came through the phone, sounding somewhat anxious, “Umm, Jiang Feng, could I get your help to reserve a place for me tonight in the main hall or a private room?”

“Of course you can,” Jiang Feng said.

He initially thought from Ji Xue’s anxious voice that something had happened, but it turned out to be just a request for reserving a place.

“There’s another thing,” Ji Xue paused.

“I… I have a friend coming over today, and I want to make her clay pot rice wine chicken, but she hasn’t booked. I can start working on it early and make extra so she can start eating early. Is that okay?” Ji Xue asked.

“Of course, as long as it doesn’t affect the overall process, why wouldn’t I agree if you’re willing to make more? I’ll talk to my mom so she doesn’t get confused later. Will you and your friend come together?” Jiang Feng asked.

“Not together. She needs to stop by the hotel to drop off some things first, and I’ll come back first,” Ji Xue said.

“Then leave me your friend’s surname and phone number. For one person, a 4-person table should be fine, right? A 2-person table might be a bit small if you want her to try several special dishes, they might not fit,” Jiang Feng signaled to Wu Minqi, who instantly understood, opened her phone’s note app, and handed the phone to Jiang Feng.

Ji Yue quietly asked her friend’s phone number on the other end, then told Jiang Feng, “The number is 137xxxxxxxx, my friend’s surname is Tan, Tan Wenwen.”

“Okay, Tan Wenwen it is, so then…” Jiang Feng was typing the number and name into Wu Minqi’s phone when he suddenly paused.

Tan Wenwen?

Tan Wenwen?!

Could it be the Tan Wenwen he was thinking of?

“Is there a problem?” Ji Xue asked cautiously, sensing that Jiang Feng had suddenly gone silent.

“No problem, I was just jotting down the phone number; please repeat it for me to confirm,” Jiang Feng said, coming back to his senses.

Ji Xue repeated the phone number, thanked him, and ended the call.

“Is there something wrong with Tan Wenwen? Do you know Ji Xue’s friend?” Wu Minqi asked.

Jiang Feng thought to himself that “know” was an understatement; he had seen her just last night, though it was the her from several years ago when they were still in junior high school.

Not only did I know her name was Tan Wenwen, but I also knew she hated doing dishes, and most crucially, she was the granddaughter of Tan Weizhou. Her parents were the children-in-law of Tan Weizhou—the famous duo who called the police over a stinky yellow croaker and landed Ji Xue with a criminal record.

What Jiang Feng hadn’t expected was that Ji Xue and Tan Wenwen had maintained their friendship all this time, and were even so close.

“No, I don’t; I just misheard and thought it was Tan Weiwei at first,” Jiang Feng said with a smile.

Wu Minqi: …

You just clearly uttered Tan Wenwen yourself.

Ah, men.