After the divorce, he took care of his child and sold fried rice; his ex-wife was filled with regret

Zhang Lei didn't say anything more.

He picked up the half-pack of Zhonghua cigarettes and the lighter from the table, stood up, and turned to walk towards the open-air balcony.

Seeing this, Ah Biao quickly stood up and followed him out.

The sea breeze of the winter night, carrying salty and icy moisture, relentlessly poured over the two of them, making Ah Biao's clothes flutter loudly.

Zhang Lei walked to the very edge of the balcony.

He looked down and saw that Old Wei, who had refused to pay his debts, had been thrown down from this very spot.

It was pitch black below, not even a splash could be seen, only the icy seawater constantly crashing against the reefs, making a roaring sound like a wild beast chewing.

On the other side of the coastline, the bustling CBD of the coastal city is brightly lit and flashing with neon lights.

"Ah Biao, look over there." Zhang Lei pointed with his finger, which was holding a cigarette, to the brightest patch of light and shadow in the distance.

"I see it, Brother Lei. It's really impressive."

"Impressive?" Zhang Lei's voice sounded somewhat ethereal in the sea breeze, yet it carried a hint of resentment etched on his teeth.

"Over the years, we've been living on the edge, settling countless debts for those so-called rich people, and doing countless shady jobs that can't be seen in the light of day."

"We certainly made money. But in the eyes of those big bosses who live in riverside villas and frequent five-star hotels, what are we?

Zhang Lei exhaled the smoke from his mouth fiercely into the night sky, his eyes turning incredibly cold.

"In their eyes, we will always be lowly vagrants, a vicious dog they pay to keep and bite."

"When they need us, they throw us a couple of bones to bite; when they don't, they won't even look at us and think we're dirty!"

Ah Biao listened silently without interrupting.

He knew that Su Qing's phone call today had reopened the thorn that had been buried in Lei's heart for more than ten years, stirring up the deepest resentment in his bones.

"But in this world, fortunes change."

Zhang Lei stared at the neon lights in the distance, the red glow of cigarette butts flickering in the darkness.

His eyes gleamed with an almost morbid fanaticism and ambition.

"My dear cousin, who's usually so unapproachable, is now calling me, this vicious dog, in the middle of the night, begging for her affections."

Zhang Lei snorted coldly.

The balcony fell silent, with only the howling sea wind whistling past my ears.

After a long while, Zhang Lei flicked the cigarette butt away with his finger, watching the tiny red spark streak across the night sky before finally falling into the endless dark sea and extinguishing itself.

He turned around, leaning against the sea breeze, and slowly began to speak.

"Ah Biao".

"Brother Lei, give the orders." Ah Biao immediately stood up straight, abandoning his previous casualness, his eyes becoming like those of a hungry wolf ready to hunt.

"Take a few clean-cut brothers with you, we're going down to Jiangcheng tonight."

……

Time flies by in peace and tranquility.

Winter days are short and dark. As soon as the sun sets, a dry, cold draft sweeps through Phoenix Golden Street.

At this moment, the Lin family shop had its heating on.

At a square table in the corner of the hall, Tuantuan was coloring the little animals in a picture book with watercolor pens.

Su Xiaoxiao sat beside her, resting her chin on her hand, occasionally offering a few soft pointers.

The little orange cat, Shrimp Dumpling, lay under the chair, purring softly in the warm breeze.

"Tuantuan, are you hungry?" Lin Fan walked over and rubbed his daughter's head.

"I'm hungry!" The little girl immediately put down her watercolors, looked up, and her big eyes sparkled.

"Dad, are we going to make stuffed tofu with minced meat?"

Lin Fan smiled and turned to look at Su Xiaoxiao sitting opposite him: "Xiaoxiao, what about you?"

Su Xiaoxiao immediately lowered her hand from her chin and smiled somewhat embarrassedly: "Brother Lin, you guessed right, my stomach has been growling for days."

Lin Fan nodded, his tone amiable: "There are no outsiders in the shop today, so the three of us will have lunch together. You guys stay here and have fun, I'll go to the kitchen."

After saying that, Lin Fan turned and walked into the kitchen.

He took a clean white apron from the hook on the wall and tied it around his waist.

The white porcelain basin on the kitchen counter was filled with more than half a basin of water, in which handmade tofu, which had just been ground that morning with a bluestone millstone, was soaking.

Soaking the tofu in water makes it appear clean and neat, with a faint aroma of soybeans.

Lin Fan looked at the tofu, and the recipe for this dish instantly appeared before his eyes.

The perfect recipe memory instilled by the system unfolds clearly in my mind.

This dish, "Supreme Minced Meat Stuffed Tofu," traces its origins back to the traditional Hakka stuffed cuisine.

This dish is an indispensable part of the Hakka people's dining table during festivals and holidays.

The biggest mistake when making this dish is treating tofu and meat as two separate things and just combining them.

Its core lies in the four words "integration" and "timing".

Handmade stone-ground tofu has a wealth of tiny pores inside, making it an excellent carrier for absorbing flavors.

Making stuffed tofu isn't simply a matter of stuffing meat into tofu and boiling it. It requires using variations in heat to allow the pork fat to infuse the bland tofu, and then using the tofu's delicate aroma to balance the pork's greasiness.

If the heat is too high, the tofu will crumble and the meat will become dry; if the heat is too low, the aroma of the meat won't come out, and the flavor will just float on the surface and won't penetrate.

Only by simmering two completely different ingredients over low heat until they are completely integrated can the true "stuffing" be achieved.

Lin Fan picked up the kitchen knife and steadily moved the half block of tofu onto the wooden cutting board.

He dipped the blade in cold water, then smoothly moved his wrist down and cut the tofu into cubes the size of mahjong tiles without hesitation.

Then he switched to a smaller stainless steel round spoon, his left hand gently protecting the edge of the tofu block, and his right hand holding the spoon. He gently turned the spoon in the middle of the tofu block and dug out a shallow indentation.

After preparing the tofu, Lin Fan turned around, opened the refrigerator, and took out a piece of fresh black mountain pig foreleg meat.

Meat that is three parts fat and seven parts lean, free-range and raised with its own spring water, is sweet and delicious.

The cleaver flew up and down in his hand, making a dense and rhythmic "thud-thud" sound.

He didn't use a meat grinder; the meat paste he chopped by hand retained the toughness of the muscle fibers, making it chewy and delicious.

Chop some scallion whites and ginger, add warm water and knead vigorously to make a small bowl of scallion and ginger water to remove the fishy smell and enhance the freshness.

Lin Fan put the minced meat into a large bowl, picked up the scallion and ginger water, and added it to the minced meat in small amounts three times.

Add a little salt, and use several chopsticks to stir quickly in the same direction.

As the chopsticks applied pressure, the moisture was completely absorbed by the minced meat.

The originally loose minced meat gradually became sticky and elastic, and the meat color also showed a layer of moist sheen.

Picking up a small spoon, Lin Fan scooped up a small ball of the mixed meat filling and stuffed it into the round hole in the middle of the tofu block.

Then use the back of a spoon to gently smooth and press the meat filling into place, ensuring the edges of the meat filling adhere tightly to the tofu.

Remove the pot from the heat and turn on the fire.