Chapter 52: Perhaps Several Old Ladies Will Be Completely Enchanted!

The kitchen at the brigade headquarters was bustling with warmth and laughter. The people by the riverside had all moved to the wheat field. After assigning tasks, Fang Rou sat on a small stool, slicing radishes with a knife. Her hands were red from the cold, with several cuts already visible. Especially her left index finger—half the nail had been sliced off, stinging so badly that tears streamed down her face.

Despite this, she didn’t dare ask for leave. Aunt Luo had already grumbled more than once about how delicate she seemed, unlike the newly arrived Ming Zhiqing. Ming Zhiqing—again and again, Ming Zhiqing. Aunt Luo praised her endlessly. In truth, it wasn’t just Aunt Luo; all the villagers of Liujiawan had a particularly good impression of Ming Dai. Compared to the other new educated youths, Ming Dai’s competence stood out even more.

After all, not just anyone could arrive and immediately let them enjoy meat. Fang Rou felt utterly aggrieved, enduring the pain in her hands as she sliced radishes. If she slowed, Sister-in-law Luo would urge her to hurry, making her feel even worse. Sister-in-law Luo rolled her eyes at the sight of Fang Rou crying as she cut. Such a simple task—cutting radish strips—and she managed to injure herself so badly. What use was she?

Qi Zhijun was in charge of carrying baskets of radishes and happened to deliver some to Fang Rou. Seeing the girl he cared for with hands so wounded, he was heartbroken. “Rou, maybe you should take a break.” Fang Rou shook her head silently.

Sister-in-law Luo glanced between the two with a look of amusement, as if watching a play unfold. Meanwhile, Liu Yan, who was also slicing radishes, was faring much better. Though tired, it was preferable to standing in the river washing radishes. Watching Qi Zhijun fret over Fang Rou, Liu Yan felt a pang of bitterness. She had always looked after Qi Zhijun, yet he only had eyes for Fang Rou, never once considering her.

She bit her lip, swallowed her resentment, and pulled off the towel she’d brought. “Brother Qi, is your shoulder hurting? Yan brought a towel—you can use it as a cushion, it’ll help.”

Qi Zhijun moved his swollen shoulder; the carrying pole had pressed it painfully. After a moment’s hesitation, he took the towel. “Thank you, Educated Youth Liu.”

Liu Yan smiled softly. “Brother Qi, don’t be so formal. Don’t overexert yourself—you just started working, take it slow.”

Qi Zhijun was touched by Liu Yan’s concern, but when he glanced at Fang Rou, who hadn’t even looked up, he felt a pang of disappointment. He sighed and carried the basket away.

Liu Yan gazed longingly at Qi Zhijun’s departing figure, making no effort to hide her feelings. Fang Rou, on the other hand, let a cold smile curl at her lips, cursing silently: A pair of wretches! Her knife grew heavier and heavier.

Sister-in-law Luo looked from one to the other, laughing happily. Indeed, city folk know how to play!

As noon approached, waves of rich aroma spread from the brigade headquarters, enveloping the entire village in its dominance. Half the village’s dogs gathered outside, drooling as they lay in wait. On the wheat field, people sniffed eagerly, their hands moving faster. The clever ones were already calling their children home to fetch bowls and queue up.

Inside the headquarters, Aunt Huang and Sister-in-law Huang clung to the kitchen door, swallowing their saliva in anticipation. Zhou Sinian anxiously paced by the stove, his eyes fixed on the steaming iron pot. If Ming Dai hadn’t forbidden him, he would have already reached in to grab a taste.

“My goodness! This scent could practically knock out several old ladies!” Aunt Huang looked at Ming Dai, barely taller than the stove, thinking her third son didn’t stand a chance—she was far out of his league. With such culinary skills, she could pick any young man from ten miles around!

Huang Dalien gulped down her saliva. “Ming Dai, your cooking is even better than the state-run restaurant!”

Aunt Huang nodded. Her husband, who had attended county meetings with the leaders, had brought back food from the state-run restaurant. She’d thought that was the best, but compared to Ming Dai’s cooking, it paled in comparison.

Ming Dai smiled. “Auntie, you’re exaggerating! It’ll be ready soon, just waiting for everyone to finish work.”

She picked up a small basin filled with spicy mutton oil she had rendered herself. “Auntie, this is for you. When serving, give it to those who like it spicy. I won’t put it in the main pot—don’t want the children missing out on soup.”

Aunt Huang quickly took it. “You’re so thoughtful. Leave it to me, I’ll handle it properly.”

Ming Dai then uncovered a large basin of radish slices she’d just prepared. “Sister-in-law, please share this with everyone. I made a full basin—should be enough. It’s good for relieving the richness.”

Sister-in-law Huang nodded cheerfully. “All right, I’ll take care of that.”

Aunt Huang was even more pleased. Ming Dai had entrusted her and her daughter-in-law with serving food, elevating their status—she was naturally delighted.

Soon, the workers arrived in droves at the brigade headquarters. The place was a noisy chaos—voices, children shrieking, dogs barking for the fun of it—all loud enough to give anyone a headache.

Liu Dazhu and Liu Qingmin entered the kitchen. “Ming Dai, your cooking is incredible! We could smell it all the way from the riverside!”

Ming Dai smiled shyly. “Uncle Brigade Leader, Uncle Secretary, the soup is ready. Let’s start serving.”

Liu Dazhu rubbed his hands excitedly. “Good, good, I’ll call people to ladle it out!”

Soon, several young men carried in large iron basins. The mutton soup filled two whole basins. Ming Dai had added plenty of cabbage and thin noodles, making it thick and hearty rather than watery.

As the basins were carried outside, the wind swept the aroma into the waiting crowd, stirring them into excitement. People pushed forward, those at the back banging bowls and basins, making a ruckus.

Liu Dazhu stood behind the table, banging the work gong to draw everyone’s attention.

“Cough, cough! Let me say a few words! The mutton was provided by Zhou Sinian and Ming Dai! The soup was cooked by Ming Dai! So—the first serving goes to Ming Dai and Zhou Sinian. Is everyone okay with that?”

“No problem!”

“No problem! Hurry up, Brigade Leader!”

“Exactly! What are you waiting for?”

“Hahaha!”

Good-natured laughter rippled through the crowd. Liu Dazhu didn’t mind; he cheerfully invited Ming Dai forward.

Before Ming Dai could move, Zhou Sinian squeezed past with his large tea mug, thrusting it toward Liu Dazhu.

Liu Dazhu still remembered the three-edged knife from last night and his hands trembled as he ladled a hearty scoop of mutton soup for Zhou Sinian, trying to suppress his fear.

But—his hands shook, and as he poured the full ladle into Zhou Sinian’s mug, only half remained.

Zhou Sinian glared at the lost chunks of meat and dumplings, ready to lash out. Ming Dai quickly blocked him, and the Brigade Leader, eager to survive, hurriedly filled up the rest of Zhou Sinian’s mug.

Satisfied, Zhou Sinian took his mug over to Aunt Huang. Just a glance from him and Aunt Huang scooped a generous spoonful of spicy mutton oil onto his mug.

Zhou Sinian, pleased with the bright red mutton oil, gave Aunt Huang an approving look.

Aunt Huang: Why am I feeling a little happy about this?

Sister-in-law Huang was bypassed entirely. Ming Dai had made the radish salad at home, and Zhou Sinian was no longer interested in it.