AGN -Chapter 249 The Lie Beast (Part 6)

Gong Liang and Guo Mingzhu went to the cafeteria for dinner. Thanks to his familiar face, Gong Liang successfully got a serving of minced pork with eggplant that had noticeably more meat than everyone else’s.

Of course, even that couldn’t compare to the braised pork Guo Mingzhu had brought.

After dinner, the young couple wandered around for more than an hour. Just like high school sweethearts, they didn’t need to do anything special—simply walking laps around the track was enough to fill two whole hours.

It wasn’t until night had fully fallen that Gong Liang finally escorted Guo Mingzhu home before leisurely heading back himself. When he arrived, his mother was massaging his father’s legs. His father, meanwhile, wasn’t idle either; he was gripping a yellowed old book, flipping through its pages as an exercise to strengthen his hands.

“Xiaoliang, you’re back. Zheng Da came by earlier to borrow some winter melon candy. Master Jing is making pastries tomorrow, and they’re short on it. I remember we still had a small packet somewhere, but I couldn’t find it. Take another look—maybe something’s covering it. If you find it, bring it over to Master Jing,” Gong Liang’s mother said.

“Okay.”

After putting away his notebook, Gong Liang began rummaging through the cupboards in search of the candy.

The Gong family only had a couple of cabinets, though they were crammed with all sorts of things. Probably out of fear that rats might steal food left outside, almost all edible items—even sweet potatoes—were locked away inside.

After a careful search, Gong Liang found the winter melon candy wrapped in oiled paper inside an empty tin of malted milk.

“Mom, I found it. I’ll take it over to Master Jing.”

With that, he headed next door carrying the candy.

To the right of the Gong family lived the Xia family, and to the left was Jing Lixiang’s home. The houses stood side by side, though the Xia and Jing homes were both somewhat larger than the Gong family’s.

The Xia family, however, had many children—two sons and a daughter. Both sons had already graduated from high school but had yet to find stable jobs, while the daughter was still in high school. With the children all grown, the family found it hard to squeeze everyone together, so they had partitioned their modest home into several tiny rooms to give each child as much privacy as possible. As a result, the place felt extremely cramped.

Jing Lixiang’s home, by contrast, was much more spacious. Huang Shengli and Zheng Da both lived there as well. Even after dividing the house into three bedrooms, there was still a fairly large living room. It was clear that the benefits at the state-run restaurant were quite good—the housing allocations were generous.

The front door to Jing Lixiang’s house was open. Gong Liang had intended to knock, but the door swung open at a light push. Jing Lixiang, Huang Shengli, and Zheng Da were all in the living room. The table and chairs were completely covered with sheets of oiled paper, each piled high with winter melon candy. At first glance, the quantity was astonishing.

“Master Jing, I’ve brought some winter melon candy.”

Gong Liang was so startled by the scene that he momentarily wondered where to place his own small package. Then he looked at Zheng Da—and was startled all over again.

There was a huge bump on Zheng Da’s forehead, a bruise on his face, and his nostrils were stuffed with tissue paper. He looked as though he’d been thoroughly beaten up.

“Did… a fight at the state-run restaurant actually end up involving the chefs today?” Gong Liang exclaimed.

How had he missed such explosive news?

Zheng Da: …

Huang Shengli burst into laughter, mercilessly mocking his junior apprentice. “See? Everyone who sees you assumes the same thing—that there was a fight at the restaurant and you lost.”

Gong Liang stepped closer to inspect him. It was clearly not the result of a fall; this was unmistakably the look of someone who had been beaten.

“Who hit you?” he asked with concern.

“My mom,” Zheng Da replied in a muffled voice.

Gong Liang: ?

“We were short on winter melon candy, so he went home, picked the lock, and started rummaging through the cupboards. His mother thought a thief had broken in and immediately whacked him with a stick. Zheng Da slammed into the cabinet, then lost his balance and hit his nose on the wall. That’s how he ended up like this.”

“If you ask me, he deserved it,” Huang Shengli said. “If you’re going home to get something, just get it. Picking the lock? Anyone would think you were a burglar.”

Zheng Da protested indignantly, “That was five jin and six liang of winter melon candy! If I’d asked my mom for it, do you think she would’ve given it to me? Of course I had to pick the lock! Besides, wasn’t it worth it? At least I got the candy. This beating wasn’t for nothing.”

Jing Lixiang shook his head helplessly, putting on a fierce expression. “You deserved another beating. The first one was too light.”

Zheng Da immediately put on a placating smile. Unfortunately, with his bruised and swollen face and tissue stuffed in his nose, it was about the ugliest smile imaginable.

“Master Jing, do pastries really need this much winter melon candy?” Gong Liang asked curiously.

Jing Lixiang smiled. “Ordinary pastries certainly don’t. But tomorrow is your birthday. A birthday calls for something special.”

Only then did Gong Liang realize that all this winter melon candy had been prepared for the pastries for his birthday tomorrow. He was both shocked and deeply touched. His first instinct was to refuse.

“It’s too much.”

“Master Jing, it’s already more than kind of you to prepare ingredients and personally cook for my birthday. But this… this much…”

The sheer amount of winter melon candy left even the usually silver-tongued E’ershou speechless. He stammered, unable to find the right words.

“What’s the big deal? Winter melon candy isn’t all that precious. There are plenty of finer sweets. Kids would much rather eat milk candies or fruit candies than winter melon candy. It only looks like a lot—it’s not particularly expensive.”

“A birthday is an important day. When I was a child, if my father could make it, then I could eat whatever I wanted on my birthday. If dragon liver and phoenix marrow had existed, he would’ve made those too.”

“Remember to come at seven tomorrow. I specially applied to reserve a private room for you all. Once you’ve turned twenty, if you get married next year, you’ll be a true adult. After that, don’t expect me to put this much effort into making pastries for your birthday anymore.”

Master Jing waved him off with a teasing smile.

Gong Liang could only nod sheepishly before heading home.

Gong Liang went back, but Qin Huai did not. He stayed behind at Jing Lixiang’s house, watching the three men take inventory of the winter melon candy.

Jing Lixiang had been right. Although the room looked overflowing with candy, much of the visual impact came from the oiled paper spread beneath it. Once properly weighed, there were only nine jin and four liang in total—of which five jin and six liang had been obtained at the cost of Zheng Da’s beating.

For making mixed-fruit filling, nine jin and four liang was enough.

Jing Lixiang nodded in satisfaction, indicating that the winter melon candy supply was sufficient. He and Huang Shengli then turned to the checklist and continued counting the next ingredient.

Since Zheng Da hadn’t participated in purchasing the ingredients, he had no idea how much was needed or what it was all for. He asked innocently, “Master, is this enough winter melon candy? If not, I think my uncle’s house still has some. I can’t let this beating go to waste—maybe tomorrow I can go ask him for some too.”

Instead of an answer, he was met with loud laughter from both Jing Lixiang and Huang Shengli.

After they finished checking the ingredients, Jing Lixiang told his two apprentices to stop chatting and hurry off to bed—especially Zheng Da.

Now that Zheng Da had officially become a full employee, he was responsible for making the buns and steamed bread at the state-run restaurant every morning. If he overslept, not only would customers miss their breakfast, but being late would also mean a deduction from his wages.

Under the threat of losing pay, Zheng Da hurried back to his room and went straight to sleep.

Qin Huai passed through the wall and returned to Gong Liang’s house. By then, Zheng Da was already fast asleep at lightning speed, but Gong Liang was still sitting by the kerosene lamp, organizing his materials.

The notebook was densely packed with notes. Some sections were circled, others underlined heavily, and besides the collected materials, there were also personal reflections written throughout.

At the very top of the latest page was a line written with such force that the pen had pierced the paper, the ink bleeding through to the next page:

“Gong Liang, you must be confident. What exactly are you afraid of? Why is it that every time you face a big occasion, you can’t help but tremble, feel afraid, shrink back, and want to retreat? How can such a timid and cowardly version of you possibly live up to your colleagues, your leaders, your friends, and Master Jing???”

While organizing his materials, Gong Liang would often flip back through the earlier pages. No matter how far back he turned, the same sentence was always written at the top of each page.

The next day, Gong Liang went to work as usual.

Section Chief Chen had gathered some new newspapers for him and even gave him an apple as a birthday gift. Gong Liang was both surprised and flattered. He went over the materials he had organized the previous evening with Chief Chen, and the two of them spent the entire morning discussing them. Qin Huai listened for a while, but after a couple of sentences he found himself completely lost. So he gave up trying to follow along and instead turned his attention to another young man in the office who was happily slacking off.

As it turned out, this fellow shared Luo Jun’s hobby—he loved reading novels, specifically wuxia novels.

The plot was a bit old-fashioned, but the writing was excellent. The young man was utterly engrossed, and Qin Huai found himself equally captivated. Before he knew it, the whole morning had flown by.

After lunch, the young man hurried back to his novel, and Qin Huai eagerly continued reading along with him. Just like that, the entire day passed.

The office slacker spent the whole day expertly slacking off, while the star salesman worked diligently from start to finish.

When it was time to leave work, Gong Liang still hadn’t eaten the apple Chief Chen had given him. He washed it and brought it to his sweetheart, who was waiting for him outside the silk mill.

Guo Mingzhu accepted the apple happily.

“Where did this apple come from? It looks really sweet.”

“Chief Chen gave it to me,” Gong Liang said. “Mingzhu, why aren’t you eating it?”

“We’re about to have a big dinner. Why would I eat an apple now and waste precious stomach space?” She tucked the apple into her bag. “I’ll take it home and eat it tomorrow morning. It’s been ages since I last had an apple. The last time our work unit handed them out was last year.”

“Then next time I go on a business trip, I’ll keep an eye out. If I find any apples, I’ll trade for some and bring them back for you.”

“Mm, the apples you bring me will definitely be sweeter than the ones my work unit gives out.”

She slipped her arm through his. Instead of taking his hand, she suddenly pulled a scarf out from behind her back as if performing a magic trick.

“Ta-da! Look, this is the birthday present I made for you!”

She shook out the scarf proudly.

“When my parents kept me at home, I had nothing to do, so I used all the yarn my mom bought to knit scarves. This one turned out the best. The ugly ones were all unraveled by my mom.”

“Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s beautiful.” Gong Liang nodded emphatically.

“Why don’t you seem surprised? Did you already know I knitted you a scarf?”

“Oh, I’m extremely surprised,” Gong Liang said, pretending he had only just noticed it.

After making Guo Mingzhu laugh, he explained, “You hid it behind your back, tucked inside your shirt. It was bulging so much that I spotted it the moment I came out.”

“Oh no.” Guo Mingzhu looked a little annoyed. “That’s because your birthday is in May. If it were in winter and you were wearing thicker clothes, you wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Right, right, clearly it’s my fault for being born in May,” Gong Liang replied good-naturedly.

“Come on, let’s go eat. I’ll let you in on a secret—Master Jing definitely made a special dessert for tonight, and it’s sure to be very sweet. He used a lot of winter melon candy.”

The two of them walked side by side. They weren’t holding hands, nor were their arms linked, yet their shadows merged together on the ground.

Following behind them, Qin Huai silently swallowed a mouthful of metaphorical dog food.

At the entrance of the state-run restaurant, the children who usually lingered around with bowls, savoring the aroma, had already gone home after dinner. The door was left slightly ajar. When Gong Liang and Guo Mingzhu pushed it open, the waitress was clearing away her own dinner dishes.

“We’re closed, we’re closed—come earlier next time if you want to eat,” she said automatically without looking up.

Then she glanced up, saw who it was, and immediately broke into a smile. Her tone became much warmer.

“Oh, it’s Xiao Gong! Master Jing reserved a private room for you. Just head inside and turn right.”

Then she looked at Guo Mingzhu and added with admiration, “And this must be Xiao Gong’s sweetheart. She’s so fair!”

Guo Mingzhu lowered her head shyly.

The waitress was about to say more when a young man—most likely Xu Nuo, whom Qin Huai had seen in an earlier memory—came jogging out from the kitchen.

“Sister Zhang, Master Jing says he made extra tangyuan. He wants to know if you’d like to take some home.”

Sister Zhang’s eyes instantly lit up, her smile radiant as though she had just found money on the street.

“Of course! My little rascals absolutely love tangyuan.”

“Xiao Xu, keep an eye on things out here for a moment. I’m going to pick out some tangyuan.”

With that, she carried her bowl and chopsticks back into the kitchen.

Xu Nuo smiled at Gong Liang.

“You’re Salesman Gong, right? I heard your silk mill landed a huge order at the trade fair. Even the provincial government specifically commended you. Congratulations!”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I only heard that some provincial leaders said a few nice things. It hardly counts as a commendation.”

“Don’t be so modest. My father was saying at home that your silk mill struck gold by having you as a salesman. With you around, they’ll never have trouble selling silk again.”

He smiled and added, “The private room is inside. Chef Zheng is already waiting there.”

Gong Liang nodded and led Guo Mingzhu toward the private room.

As they walked, Guo Mingzhu asked in a hushed voice, “Was that Factory Director Xu’s youngest son just now? I heard that because he loved fermented rice steamed buns so much, and didn’t have enough grain coupons, he brought twenty jin of flour from home and asked Master Jing to make them for him.”

“And that Factory Director Xu was so angry he chased him all around the textile mill trying to beat him. Is that true?”

Sure enough, even a dancer from the performing arts troupe had a heart full of curiosity for gossip.

“I think it’s true,” Gong Liang said, though he wasn’t entirely certain. “I don’t know whether it was really twenty jin, but he definitely asked Master Jing to make fermented rice steamed buns for quite a long time. He ate them for over two months straight before finally getting tired of them.”

Guo Mingzhu inhaled sharply.

As expected of Factory Director Xu’s youngest son—what extravagance! To actually grow tired of eating fermented rice steamed buns.

She could eat them for the rest of her life and never get sick of them!

The two of them reached the private room and pushed the door open.

The room’s decor was very simple. There was only a small round table and a relatively quiet atmosphere. There were no ornaments or fancy decorations, not even a tablecloth, but the bowls and chopsticks had already been neatly set out.

“You’re here.” Zheng Da waved them over. “If you’d taken any longer, I would’ve gone looking for you. Dinner’s about to start.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Huang Shengli’s shout rang out from the kitchen.

“Zheng Da! Zheng Da, where are you? Hurry up and come carry the tangyuan!”

“Coming!”

Zheng Da dashed out. A minute later, he returned carrying an enormous pot of tangyuan.

It was truly gigantic—even larger than the pot they had used for tangyuan at Zheng Da’s home that day.

“Master said the other dishes will take a little longer, so we should start with some Four-Joy Tangyuan to tide us over.”