Once the chicken was stewed soft, the cutting board was washed clean, and the chicken was fished out to be chopped. That was the method for making white cut chicken. Worried the meat might become bland from the long stewing, Zhao Ger prepared two small dishes of dipping sauce: a little soy sauce, chopped scallions, cilantro, and minced garlic, finished with a sizzle of hot oil and a spoonful of the broth. Just like that, it was ready.
After stir-frying two simple side dishes, Zhao Ger called out in the yard. Only then did Fang Zichen and Xiao Feng come out of the room. He had been teaching the child arithmetic and writing earlier. Entering the kitchen, he saw Guaizai leaning against the table edge, staring fixedly at the plate of chicken on the table without blinking.
Zhao Ger picked him up into his arms and gave him a chicken leg.
Guaizai was overjoyed: "Thank you, Daddy."
Zhao Ger gave the other leg to Xiao Feng.
Xiao Feng stammered: "Th-thank you, U-uncle Zhao."
Zhao Ger said: "Good boy, eat up."
The chicken was stewed very tender. Guaizai ate with incredible speed. Fang Zichen sat opposite him and saw him using both little hands, holding the chicken leg, licking it like an ice cream from left to right. The chicken leg turned a full circle, then he licked from right to left, and then... a big chicken leg was gone just like that.
He looked at Xiao Feng. Xiao Feng had only taken two or three bites, with most of it still left.
Zhao Ger gave him another small drumstick: "Do you want more?"
"Want it want it," Guaizai said.
He finished it again in no time, then looked longingly at the plate of chicken on the table.
Zhao Ger pursed his lips, pretending not to see, and told him to eat the rice in his bowl. Guaizai gently tugged at him: "Daddy~"
Zhao Ger looked down at him.
Guaizai raised his short, oily finger: "Guaizai still want to eat a little more meat."
Zhao Ger looked at him. In just a moment, he couldn't bear his pitiful, beggar-like expression anymore and gave him the last chicken leg. Guaizai felt a bit embarrassed. His intention was for Zhao Ger to give him some other piece of meat. In his view, of the four chicken legs, he could only eat two; the other two were for his brother. Licking his oily little mouth, he looked at Xiao Feng.
Compared to drumsticks, Xiao Feng preferred wings and necks—the bony parts. Zhao Ger knew this.
Xiao Feng patted Guaizai's head: "I, I d-don't want it. Y-you eat."
"Yo~" Guaizai pushed his bowl over for Zhao Ger to put the leg in. "This is so embarrassing! The chicken leg is so big, Guaizai can't eat that much. But if Brother doesn't eat it, it will be wasted. Father said, 'Every single grain is the fruit of hard work.' Wasting is wrong. Guaizai will reluctantly eat it then!" After saying this, he sighed like a little adult: "Sigh~"
Zhao Ger: "......"
Fang Zichen: "......"
If you hadn't pushed your bowl over so quickly, these words might have had a shred of credibility.
Before, Fang Zichen could tell he loved chicken, but he hadn't expected him to eat so much—almost catching up to how much he himself ate as a child. In his youth, no matter what he did, he far surpassed his peers by a large margin. He could eat an extra bowl of rice compared to others and pee farther than other kids. Guaizai ate three chicken legs, plus several pieces of chicken breast, plus two big bowls of white rice, and only then said he was full and wouldn't eat anymore.
That night, Zhao Ger frowned and asked Fang Zichen if their son was eating too much.
"Huh?" Fang Zichen was lying next to Guaizai, who had just fallen asleep. He asked in a low voice: "Why do you say that?"
"I think he might be eating a bit too much." Zhao Ger had never raised a child before and had no experience. The only criterion he could judge by was looking at the belly. Before, he wouldn't let Guaizai eat this much, always controlling the amount. But since the start of the new year, the child's appetite had increased; he started eating more. At first, Zhao Ger would still control it, only letting him eat one bowl, but Guaizai kept saying he was hungry. Zhao Ger had no choice but to let him eat. Later, seeing nothing was wrong, he let him be. He ate more back then, but these past few days, it seemed he was eating even more.
If they were still at the Ma family now, they probably would have starved to death.
Fang Zichen remembered how his son devoured everything at the dinner table, even seeming to want to gnaw on the chicken bones, and instinctively wanted to nod. But then, as if thinking of something, he changed his words: "No, I think it's quite normal. Being able to eat is a blessing."
Fang Zichen was reliable in other matters, but in raising a son, he was as clueless as Zhao Ger himself. Hearing this didn't reassure Zhao Ger. The next day, Zhao Ger waited until around mealtime before heading to the Liu family.
Over the past six months, the Liu family had also earned some silver. Their food situation had improved somewhat; at least they could buy half a jin of meat every few days.
All children enjoy tasty food. That day, Aunt Liu had specially stir-fried a small bowl of lean pork for Liuliu. Liuliu held his bowl, eating with obvious pleasure, but after only half a bowl, he said he was full.
Zhao Ger's frown deepened. Knowing Aunt Liu needed to hurry to the vegetable plot to pull weeds, Zhao Ger didn't want to disturb her. After leaving the Liu house, he went to the clan patriarch's home. The clan patriarch's grandson, Tiedan, was about the same age as Liuliu. At the mealtime, most villagers wouldn't visit others, as it might seem like they were trying to get a free meal.
The clan patriarch's family was surprised to see Zhao Ger visit, thinking something had happened. Zhao Ger explained he had simply come to see Tiedan—that the other day, Tiedan, He Xiaodong, and the other children had come to play with Guaizai and had helped out with a few chores. His husband had gone to town yesterday and brought back some malt candy and dried fruit, so he thought he would bring some over for them.
Hearing this, the clan patriarch's family said he was being too courteous. Tiedan often went to play with Guaizai, and Fang Zichen and Zhao Ger were generous, frequently giving the children little treats. Helping out with a bit of work was only natural—they couldn't simply take advantage all the time. They tried to decline the gift.
While chatting with them, Zhao Ger kept an eye on Tiedan. Seeing him eat just one small bowl and say he was full—and two children in a row being like this—his heart couldn't help but feel uneasy.
The clan patriarch's wife, seeing his poor complexion, asked if something was wrong.
Zhao Ger twisted his fingers, somewhat uneasy, and said: "My child eats a bit too much. It doesn't seem right."
No comments:
Post a Comment