1984: Starting from a bankrupt Sichuan restaurant

Chapter 38 Inheritance (Please continue reading!)
Comrade Zhang Shufen proved with her actions that their close bond as grandmother and granddaughter could not withstand the test of this pot of old brine.

Bang!
The pot lid was put on, and the old lady protected the pot of old brine as if she were her own child.

but……

He's a fool too.

Just now you were calling him your darling grandson.

"Get lost." Comrade Zhang Shufen waved her hand and warned, "If you dare to touch my old brine, I'll immediately call Tie Ying and Zhou Miao for a mixed doubles brawl."

"No, no, Grandma, I was just joking," Zhou Yan quickly waved his hand.

He had no doubt that if Aunt Zhao and Comrade Lao Zhou were successfully summoned, he would cry even harder than Fanwa.

After all, Comrade Zhou was also afraid of getting beaten up.

This pot of old brine is the old lady's most precious treasure. She has been nurturing it for more than ten years and boils it every few days to maintain it.

Eating the braised dishes made by the old lady during festivals is the biggest expectation of the whole family.

The task triggered by the system seems simple, but it is actually impossible to complete.

Unless he comes in the middle of the night and sneaks it away.

But by then it wasn't a matter of his parents teaming up to beat him.

When Zhou Yan was filming the video, he met many cold dish chefs, and more than one of them said: "Kimchi, chili oil, and braising liquid are the three treasures of a cold dish chef. Ordinary people are not allowed to touch them. Just like the knife on the chopping block, if you touch it, you will be in serious trouble."

This is actually not difficult to understand.

A pot of old braising liquid is nurtured day after day, and the time and effort invested are unknown to outsiders.

But if it falls into the hands of a novice or someone who doesn't know how to cherish it, it can be ruined in just three days.

Anyone would have blown it up.

The old woman looked at him and asked, "You want to sell braised food?"

“Yes, there are no braised food vendors outside the textile factory yet. The factory workers earn a high income, so they would definitely like to take a delicious cold dish home after get off work.” Zhou Yan nodded with a smile: “The braised food you make is definitely the best in Suzhou.”

"You little brat, you're always bragging without thinking." The old lady laughed, a hint of pride on her face. "Last time, when Zhou Laoqi's son got married and held a banquet, the country chef he hired made really mediocre braised beef and pig ears. They weren't as good as mine."

"When Zhou Laoqi's son got married, he hired the best chef in Suji for his banquets. Everyone who tried his braised dishes said they were delicious. But even that level of skill is far inferior to your pot of old-fashioned braising liquid." Zhou Yan seized the opportunity to flatter him, his face full of sycophancy: "At least ten stories behind. Tell me, how good is your skill?"

"Of all my grandchildren, you're the best at telling stories." The old lady smiled and looked at the pot of braising liquid with a hint of reminiscence: "After I married your grandfather when I was eighteen, he slaughtered cattle, and I set up a stall to sell braised beef offal, braised beef tongue, and braised pig's head. My business was so successful that it became the best in Suji. People from Jiaozhou would come to buy from me, and restaurants would place orders with me."

This skill of making braised dishes was passed down to me by your great-grandfather. Your great-grandfather used to be the head chef in the household of a high-ranking official in Chengdu. He was a renowned master of braised dishes.

Back then, women weren't allowed to learn to cook, but the country was in turmoil and survival was difficult, so my maternal grandfather secretly passed on the secret recipe for braised dishes to my mother, which is how our family survived.

I supported five sons with this skill and helped them all get married. Later, when they stopped letting us set up stalls and we had to eat at the collective cafeteria, and the pot of 30-year-old brine was thrown away, I was heartbroken and couldn't sleep for a week.

Zhou Yan listened intently, never expecting such a connection between the two stories, a tale that even he had never heard of before.

“Grandma, the national policy has changed now, encouraging the development of the individual economy. There are more and more individual business owners setting up stalls and opening shops on the streets, and life will get better and better,” Zhou Yan said gently.

The old lady had lived through the most turbulent half-century, and this pot of old brine truly held extraordinary significance for her.

"Do you want to learn?" the old lady asked, looking into his eyes.

Her eyes were lined with wrinkles, but they remained bright.

"Yes." Zhou Yan nodded without hesitation.

"You think I'll teach you? This craft can't die out in my hands; it should be passed down." The old lady nodded with a smile.

Zhou Yan's eyes lit up, and he rubbed his hands together, saying, "Grandma, what about this pot of old braising liquid..."

"Don't even think about it!" the old woman scoffed. "As long as I live, you'll never get this old braising liquid." "Is this... the throne of the King of Braised Food?" Zhou Yan couldn't hold back any longer and inexplicably wanted to laugh.

"The brine is best when it's homemade; how you treat it determines its flavor." The old lady looked at Zhou Yan and said, "If you really want to learn, I'll teach you how to cook brine and how to age it."

"Grandma, you will always be my best grandma." Zhou Yan almost wanted to kowtow to the old lady.

Such a good formula, he taught it to me without hesitation, which means he's the one who breastfed me.

The old lady said, "I'll write you a list this afternoon. Buy everything you need. Whenever you want to make braising liquid, come pick me up and I'll take you to your shop to teach you."

“Okay.” Zhou Yan nodded. “Then I’ll build another pot, specifically for making braised dishes.”

Although he couldn't take away the old lady's old brine, Zhou Yan was already very satisfied to be guided and taught by the old lady on the spot.

This system task can only be put on hold for now. He can slowly cultivate a pot of old braising liquid and learn the essence of braising from the old lady. The result will be the same.

This is a legacy.

The ribs were stewing in the pot. Zhou Yan estimated the time, carried the wooden bucket to the well in the yard, and began to kill the fish.

Footsteps sounded at the courtyard gate, and Zhou Yan turned around to look.

A tall, thin young man stood at the door carrying a hoe. He had a buzz cut, deep-set features, and looked about six or seven parts like Zhou Yan. A hideous scar at the corner of his eye made him look more fierce. The left sleeve of his sailor shirt was empty, swaying slightly in the wind.

He stood ramrod straight, carrying a hoe, giving the impression that he was carrying a gun.

"Uncle, you're back." Zhou Yan stood up and smiled.

"Yes, I went to the fields to weed. Zhou Yan, it's been a long time since you've come." Zhou Weiguo nodded, but his gaze was fixed on the main room.

As if he had noticed something, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and his cold demeanor melted away.

"Uncle!" Zhou Momo rushed out of the main room, ran to Zhou Weiguo, stopped in front of him, and raised her little hand high: "Here's some candy for you! Big bunny candy, sweet and delicious!"

"Momo, eat it. Your uncle doesn't like sweets," Zhou Weiguo said with a doting smile.

"No, you eat one, and I'll feed you." Zhou Momo shook her head, tore open the candy wrapper, and tiptoed up to hand it to him.

"Okay, I'll eat it." Zhou Weiguo smiled helplessly and bent 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, it's sweet."

"Hehe." Zhou Momo laughed along, saying, "Come on, there are oranges too, oranges are delicious."

“Okay.” Zhou Weiguo replied, putting the hoe behind the door and following Zhou Momo into the main room, a smile always on his face.

When he started walking, it became clear that his left leg was slightly lame, but he walked very steadily with each step.

Zhou Yan silently squatted back down to kill the fish.

My uncle is thirty-four years old this year. He joined the army at the age of eighteen and was wounded and discharged during the Sino-Vietnamese War in 79.

The old house has two plaques that read "Family of First-Class Heroes".

One piece belonged to the old man.

One of them belonged to his uncle.

This is also a form of inheritance.

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(End of this chapter)