Chapter 103: Why is it gone?
The night deepened.
At so point, the wind had picked up outside, whistling mournfully. Families lit up their hos, hiding in the warmth of their houses to prepare dinner. Xu Wenbin’s underfloor heating was remarkably effective, far better than the radiators at Xu Qing’s place. Even wearing a sweater felt too warm.
“Aren’t you going to help?” soone asked.
“There’s barely any space in there for them, let alone .”
Two won were busy wrapping and cooking dumplings in the kitchen, while the breadwinner of the family lounged around with a teacup, wandering between the living room and the study. Xu Qing eagerly waited for the dumplings to finish cooking, rushing over to help carry bowls and pour vinegar when they were ready.
“Slls amazing! So good!”
Looking at the pot with barely any dumplings broken open, he praised the aroma while giving Jiang He a big thumbs-up.
“You can sll how good they are?” Jiang He asked, bemused.
“Of course! Anything you two make slls fantastic!” Xu Qing cheerfully carried the dumplings to the table, then hurried back to wait for Zhou Suzhi to fill more bowls.
Steaming hot dumplings were placed on the table, while a batch of uncooked ones waited in the kitchen to be boiled when everyone had almost finished eating. In Jiang City, a northern region, dumplings weren’t filled with the variety of ingredients found in the south, like shrimp, fish, and vegetables. Here, they were mostly made with rich, hearty at fillings—beef, lamb, or pork, all ford into large atballs.
The pork and green onion dumplings, dipped in vinegar, were simply delicious.
The family gathered around the table to eat. Jiang He, reserved in Xu Qing’s family setting, didn’t speak as casually as usual but clearly enjoyed herself. Her expression showed it all as she listened to the father and son banter about topics ranging from dostic to international, from Jiang City to Luo City.
“Is it good?” Zhou Suzhi asked, noticing Jiang He eating with focused determination and smiling warmly.
“Mhm, it’s amazing!” Jiang He exclaid.
Hearing her comnt, Xu Qing, who had been arguing with his father about why Jiang City lagged behind Luo City in developnt, glanced sideways at her.
She knows how to use “amazing” now?
“If you like it, have so more. We can always cook another batch,” Zhou Suzhi said kindly. When she had taught Jiang He to make dumplings earlier, she’d noticed the calluses on her palms and could guess that the girl had endured a tough life before. Her obvious delight while eating was rare to see.
Xu Qing’s usual exaggerations about her hardships suddenly seed more credible. Here she was, a girl who had climbed out of the mountains into Jiang City, likely overcoming countless struggles along the way.
“I’ll cook the next batch,” Xu Qing volunteered. He downed dumplings one or two at a ti, finishing faster than anyone else. Eagerly, he darted into the kitchen to boil the next round. While he didn’t know how to wrap dumplings, boiling them was easy enough with hands-on effort.
The second batch was ready just in ti to follow the first. After everyone finished, Xu Qing even ladled out a big bowl of dumpling soup, believing in the old saying, “original broth neutralizes the food.”
Once the al was over, Xu Qing washed the dishes and scrubbed the pot with steel wool until it glead, dried his hands, and prepared to head ho.
“I swear this kid just brings his girlfriend here to freeload,” Xu Wenbin muttered, noting their appetite.
“Who freeloads more than you? All you do is wait around to eat,” Zhou Suzhi retorted with a snort. Standing by the window, she watched the two figures under the streetlight below and remarked, “That girl’s down-to-earth and unpretentious. She just ate three full bowls.”
“How much?” Xu Wenbin hadn’t noticed.
“Three bowls, plus a bowl of soup,” Zhou Suzhi answered.
“…She can really eat,” he said after a pause.
“Being able to eat is a blessing, just like ,” Zhou Suzhi chuckled, watching the pair disappear into the night before pulling the curtains closed. The more she thought about Jiang He, the more she liked her.
If she had to choose between soone who’s barely full after a few dumplings and soone who could down three bowls, she’d definitely pick the latter.
“Did you get the hang of it?”
“More or less. A few more tries, and I’ll have it down,” Jiang He replied.
As the temperature dropped sharply, Xu Qing and Jiang He walked briskly, speaking conspiratorially. They treated their dumpling-making lesson as if it were a secret martial art they’d stolen. They had spent a good chunk of ti at ho planning and practicing, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
“There’s a chunk of at at ho. Tomorrow, I’ll grab so flour,” Xu Qing said, chuckling. “Practice without worries!”
“I don’t even know what was in that filling,” Jiang He fretted.
“Fillings are easy; Baidu has everything.” Reassured, Jiang He felt a small thrill at learning a new skill. This was way more practical than martial arts—she could eat sothing different every day.
They hailed a cab ho, Jiang He absently rubbing her fingernails as she thought. On her pinky nail, there was a tiny red flower.
Back ho, Xu Qing groaned theatrically, flopping onto the couch. Shedding his jacket with exaggerated motions, he sighed in comfort. Nothing beat his little nest.
“I’m telling you, in the north, eating dumplings during the New Year is a must. It’s like eating mooncakes for Mid-Autumn Festival or zongzi for Dragon Boat Festival—missing it feels incomplete.
This is the cultural difference between north and south. It’s not just about the tis; regional differences create entirely different perceptions…”
Xu Qing started to ramble, holding Winter lon (the cat) and gazing at the ceiling. His mind wandered to the image of Jiang He with her sleeves rolled up, wrapping dumplings, a small fla flickering in his heart.
Jiang He, listening to his musings, took off her jacket and stretched before turning on the computer. While waiting for it to boot up, she went to the kitchen to check on the fish they’d been keeping. The fish, still alive, swam energetically in a water system Xu Qing had rigged up—a tilted basin trickling water into a bucket, which he claid oxygenated the water, simulating “fake living water.”
It was sothing he had picked up from Xu Wenbin, though its reliability was questionable. Still, the fish hadn’t died yet, patiently waiting to be sacrificed when the two of them felt like eating it.
“...When they fry eggs, they call it ‘pocket eggs.’ For us, frying is frying, and ‘pocket eggs’ are boiled ones. And tofu pudding! They love it sweet; we eat it savory.
But it flips for zongzi—we eat sweet, they eat savory. These taste preferences are just bizarre…”
Jiang He listened quietly. Though the computer was ready, she didn’t start gaming, instead casually browsing the web.
Finally, Xu Qing poured himself a glass of water and peeled an orange to keep busy.
“That’s it?” Jiang He asked, puzzled when he stopped talking.
“What?”
“You’re done?”
“Yeah, what else do you want to hear?”
Jiang He gave him a sidelong glance and shook her head, clicking her mouse. Usually, his long-winded lectures ended with so ploy for a hug or a handhold. Why was today different?
“I’m going to shower. Help yourself if you’re hungry—those sunflower seeds and candies are for eating,” Xu Qing said, scratching his head at her odd expression. He placed a couple of candies by her computer before heading to the bedroom for his pajamas.
Maybe she’s just awestruck by my vast knowledge, he mused.
The sound of water filled the apartnt as Xu Qing showered. Jiang He fiddled with the mouse, opening Xu Qing’s channel to watch so of his older videos. The latest one featured kiss scenes from period dramas.
One couple after another kissed in various poses—flying, embracing, lying down, sitting, wielding swords, bleeding, on wedding nights or before dying…
In short, shaless!
Jiang He stared at the five-minute video, her eyes wide. Sensing Xu Qing was nearly done showering, she closed it quietly and switched to the news.
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