Comrade Zhang Shufen proved with her actions that their close grandmother-grandson relationship couldn't withstand the test of this pot of old braising liquid.
Clang!
The pot lid was closed, and the old woman protected the pot of braising liquid as if it was her own child.
But...
He was also her child!
She had just called him her darling grandson!
"Get lost!" Comrade Zhang Shufen waved her hand, warning, "If you dare touch my braising liquid, I'll immediately call Tieying and Zhou Miao to give you a double beating."
"I wouldn't dare, Grandma, I was just joking." Zhou Yan quickly waved his hands.
He had no doubt that if Auntie Zhao and Comrade Zhou were successfully summoned, he would probably cry even harder than Fanwa.
After all, Comrade Zhou was also afraid of being beaten.
This pot of old braising liquid was the old lady's most prized possession, nurtured for over ten years, and she would boil it and maintain it every few days.
Eating the braised dishes made by the old lady during festivals and holidays was the greatest expectation of the whole family.
The task triggered by the system seemed simple, but in reality, it was impossible to complete.
Unless he secretly stole it away in the middle of the night.
But then it wouldn't just be a matter of his parents giving him a combined beating.
When Zhou Yan was filming videos, he came into contact with many chefs specializing in cold dishes. More than one of them said, "Pickles, chili oil, and braising liquid are the three treasures of a cold dish chef. Ordinary people aren't even allowed to touch them. It's like a butcher's knife; if you touch it, you'll be fighting for your life."
This is actually not difficult to understand.
A pot of old braising liquid is nurtured day after day; the time and effort invested are unknown to outsiders.
But if it falls into the hands of a novice or someone who doesn't cherish it, they can ruin it in three days.
Anyone would be furious.
The old woman looked at him and asked, "Do you want to sell braised food?"
"Yes, there's no one selling braised food outside the textile factory gate right now. The factory workers have high incomes, so there will definitely be people who want to take some delicious cold dishes home after work." Zhou Yan smiled and nodded, "Your braised food is definitely the best in Suji."
"You little rascal, you're just bragging without thinking." the old woman chuckled, a hint of playful pride on her face. "Last time, when Old Man Zhou's son got married and held a village banquet, the village chef they hired, his braised beef and pig ears were really mediocre, not nearly as good as mine."
"Old Man Zhou's seventh son's wedding, they hired the best village chef in Suji for the banquet, and everyone said his braised dishes were delicious. But even that level is far inferior to your old braising liquid." Zhou Yan flattered, his face beaming. "At least ten stories lower! How high do you think your skill level is?"
"Of all my grandchildren, you're the best at spinning tales." the old woman smiled, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes as she looked at the pot of braising liquid. "After I married your grandfather at eighteen, he would slaughter cattle, and I would set up a stall selling braised offal, braised beef tongue, and braised pig's head meat. The business became the best in Suji, and people from Jiazhou even came specifically to buy from me. Restaurants also came to me to place orders.
This braising technique was passed down to me by your great grandmother. Your great-great-grandfather used to be a head chef in a high-ranking official's household in Rongcheng; he was a famous master chef.
Back then, women weren't allowed to learn cooking, but the country was in turmoil, and survival was difficult, so my grandfather secretly passed the secret recipe for braised dishes to my mother, which allowed our family to survive.
I supported my five sons and helped them all get married relying on this skill. Later, when street vending was banned and we had to eat in the communal canteen, I was heartbroken when that pot of thirty years old braising liquid was thrown away. I couldn't sleep for a whole week."
Zhou Yan listened intently, never expecting such a story behind it. This was something even little Zhou had never heard before.
"Grandma, now the national policies have changed, encouraging the development of individual businesses. Now there are more and more individual vendors and shop owners on the streets, and life will get better and better." Zhou Yan said softly.
The old lady had lived through the most turbulent half-century, and this pot of braising liquid truly held extraordinary significance for her.
"Do you want to learn?" the old lady asked, looking into his eyes.
Her eyes were still bright, despite the wrinkles that had crept around them.
"Yes." Zhou Yan nodded without hesitation.
"If you want to, I'll teach you. This skill can't die with me; it should be passed down." the old lady said, smiling and nodding.
Zhou Yan's eyes lit up, and he rubbed his hands together, saying, "Grandma, then what about this pot of old braising liquid...?"
"Don't even think about it!" the old woman retorted, pouting. "As long as I'm alive, you won't get this old braising liquid."
"So, this is the throne of the King of Braised Dishes?" Zhou Yan couldn't help but chuckle, feeling an inexplicable urge to laugh.
"The best braised dishes come from broth that you've nurtured yourself. It becomes whatever you make it." the old woman said, looking at Zhou Yan. "If you really want to learn, I'll teach you how to make the braising liquid and how to maintain the old braising broth."
"Grandma, you'll always be the best grandma." Zhou Yan felt like bowing down to her.
Such a wonderful recipe, and she's willing to teach him – only his own grandmother would do that.
The old woman said, "This afternoon I'll write you a list of ingredients. Buy everything on the list, and whenever you want to make the braising liquid, come and pick me up and I'll teach you at your shop."
"Okay." Zhou Yan nodded. "Then I'll need to build another stove specifically for making braised dishes."
Although he couldn't take away the old lady's aged braising liquid, Zhou Yan was already very satisfied to be personally guided and taught by the old lady.
The system task could only be temporarily put aside. He would slowly cultivate his own pot of aged braising liquid and learn the essence of braising from the old lady; the result would be the same.
This was a form of inheritance.
The pork ribs were simmering in the pot. Zhou Yan estimated the time, carried a wooden bucket to the well in the courtyard, and began to clean the fish.
Footsteps sounded at the courtyard gate, and Zhou Yan turned to look.
A tall, thin young man stood at the entrance, carrying a hoe. He had a crew cut, deep set features, and looked about sixty or seventy percent like Zhou Yan. A jagged scar near his eye made him look somewhat fierce. The left sleeve of his striped short-sleeved shirt was empty, swaying slightly in the wind.
He stood upright, carrying a hoe, giving the impression that he was carrying a gun.
"Uncle, you're back." Zhou Yan said, standing up with a smile.
"Yes, I went to the fields to weed. Zhou Yan, you haven't been here for a long time." Zhou Weiguo nodded, his gaze however, was directed towards the main room.
As if he had seen something, the corners of his mouth slightly curved upwards, and his cold demeanor melted away.
"Uncle!" Zhou Momo rushed out of the main room, toddling towards Zhou Weiguo, stopping in front of him, and holding up her little hand: "Here's some candy for you! It's a big rabbit one, so sweet!"
"Momo, you eat it. Uncle doesn't like candy." Zhou Weiguo said with a doting smile.
"No, you eat one, I'll feed you." Zhou Momo shook her head, tore open the candy wrapper, and stretched on tiptoe to offer it to him.
"Okay, I'll eat it." Zhou Weiguo smiled helplessly, bending down to take the candy from Zhou Momo's hand.
"Is it sweet?" Zhou Momo looked at him expectantly.
Zhou Weiguo smiled and nodded: "Sweet, very sweet."
"Hehe." Zhou Momo giggled, and said, "Come on, there are oranges too, oranges are delicious too."
"Alright." Zhou Weiguo replied, placing the hoe behind the door, and followed Zhou Momo towards the main room, a smile always on his face.
Only when he started walking did he realize that his left leg was slightly lame, but he walked steadily with each step.
Zhou Yan silently squatted back down to clean the fish.
His uncle is thirty four this year. He joined the army at eighteen and was wounded and discharged during the Sino-Vietnamese War in 1979.
Two plaques bearing the words "Home of a First Class Meritorious Soldier" hang in the old house.
One belongs to his grandfather.
The other belongs to his uncle.
This is also a form of inheritance.