Chapter 301: The Glorious Mr. Wang

The meal went down quite well, and everyone had a good time—especially Mr. Wang, who hadn’t eaten this well in a long time.

Though his income wasn’t low, he had a whole family to support—four kids, an elderly parent, and a wife who didn’t work.

That was why he never turned down “gifts.”

He never asked parents for anything outright, but if they offered, he wouldn’t fuss about it or politely refuse. He would just accept it with ease. Of course, once he accepted a gift, he would make sure to do his best, to be worthy of what he received.

“No need to see me out, no need! Just a bit of alcohol, no big deal, no big deal!” Mr. Wang waved his hand and declined Cheng Siguang’s offer to walk him out.

He and Zhou Yimin left the Cheng household and walked side by side.

When they reached Mr. Wang’s home, Zhou Yimin spoke up, “Mr. Wang, hold on a sec. I went to Jinmen a while back and brought back some seafood. I’ll give you some to take home.”

“Oh? That’s great—then I won’t be polite. You know how it is, I’ve got a bunch of kids to feed,” Mr. Wang said in delight.

Two or three of his kids were in that age where they ate like wolves, which made him constantly worry about putting food on the table.

The fact that Zhou Yimin had been to Jinmen was known by folks in the neighboring courtyards. People in Courtyard No. 56 weren’t subtle about it, going around bragging about how good the dried fish Zhou brought them was.

The neighboring courtyards were envious, but since Zhou didn’t live in their courtyard, they felt too awkward to ask for any.

“What’s there to be polite about between teacher and student?” Zhou Yimin smiled and walked straight into his house.

A little while later, he came back out carrying a bag. Inside was a massive dried fish, so big the bag couldn’t even hold it—the tail still stuck out of the opening.

Mr. Wang was stunned at the sight.

That dried fish was huge!

How big was the fish before it was dried?

“Whoa! Such a big dried fish—Yimin, you’re not keeping it for yourself?” Mr. Wang said, not hiding his delight. That one fish could feed his family for months.

Saving it for the New Year would be perfect!

“Mr. Wang, this is Alaska pollock. I heard that in Yanbian, Jilin, the local ethnic Korean families love it. After it’s dried, they peel off the fish skin and wrap a special kind of rice with it. Then they steam the whole thing and eat it dipped in sauce—super flavorful. It’s a local specialty, called fish skin rice wrap,” Zhou Yimin explained.

In Yanbian, it’s common for families to clean and gut Alaska pollock, then hang it outside during the winter to freeze-dry. The moisture in the fish sublimates, leaving behind dried, strip-like meat. You tear off a strip and chew—it gets more fragrant the longer you chew.

It’s said that every household in Yanbian eats Alaska pollock during Qingming Festival.

Zhou Yimin added, “This fish isn’t expensive, but every part of it is useful. The innards and roe can be made into sauce. The head, after soaking in soy sauce, is incredibly tasty. The eyes and skin go great with alcohol. The fins and tail can be used for broth.

Unfortunately, only the body’s left now.”

The more Mr. Wang heard, the more he liked it.

What really mattered was the sheer size. Even dried, it still weighed seven or eight pounds.

“No loss at all, no loss!” Mr. Wang grinned so wide it nearly twisted his face.

When he took the bag from Zhou Yimin, he noticed there was more seafood inside. Just picking it up, he could tell it weighed more than ten pounds.

“Yimin, thank you so much!”

After a few words of thanks, he happily carried the bag of seafood out of Courtyard No. 56 and returned to their siheyuan.

When he got home, his wife, kids, and elderly mother had already eaten.

A strong scent of dried fish greeted him at the door.

“You got a big fish like that from Cheng Siguang?” His wife was both surprised and thrilled.

The kids’ eyes lit up.

Mr. Wang rolled his eyes. “What are you thinking? It’s already generous enough that they invited me for a meal. Asking for gifts on top of that? I’d feel too embarrassed! This was from Yimin—his way of showing respect for a people’s teacher like me.”

From Yimin?

Well, that made sense. Everyone in the courtyard knew Zhou Yimin had gone to Jinmen and brought back a lot of dried fish. Pretty much every household in Courtyard No. 56 got some.

“Yimin’s really doing well!” his wife said, impressed.

“Right? He’s invented quite a few things. He’s already a team leader now, and I hear he’s on track to become a section chief.” Mr. Wang was proud that a former student of his had achieved so much.

Then he took out the Alaska pollock from the bag—it was nearly a meter long—and the whole family was overjoyed.

His third child, the greedy one, reached out to tear off a piece of fish to eat, only to get smacked by his mom.

“No eating now. Save it for New Year or a festival.”

That’s how most Chinese families operated—save the good stuff for when it really matters.

Mr. Wang told his family that it was Alaska pollock and repeated what Zhou Yimin had said about it being a fish where every part is valuable.

In the bag, there were also two dried ribbonfish, a handful of dried kelp, a few dried cuttlefish, and some seafood he couldn’t even name. Honestly, some of it left Mr. Wang staring—he had no idea what it was.

Not being from a coastal area, it was normal not to recognize it.

“These are abalone. Nobody touch them—I’m putting them in a jar.” This high-end ingredient needed to be saved, to be used later as an impressive gift.

Mr. Wang found a small jar, cleaned it carefully multiple times, then put in the ten or so dried abalones, sealed it tightly, and hid it away with great care.

As for the Alaska pollock, his wife and mother debated the best place to store it.

Hanging it in the kitchen was risky—what if rats got to it? Or worse, the kids couldn’t resist and tore pieces off.

Mr. Wang stayed out of the discussion. Seeing how greedy the kids looked, he grumpily picked out four dried shrimps from the bag and handed them out.

Back then, there was no notion of peeling shrimp. You just chewed them whole, wasting nothing.

Even shrimp heads, which people no longer eat nowadays, were considered delicacies.

In some places, people would buy just shrimp heads. They’d peel off the outer shell, remove the legs, and discard the digestive sac. Then, using a small spoon, they’d scoop out the shrimp brain and save it.

The shrimp shells were used to make broth, enough to flavor cabbage or noodles for several meals. Shrimp legs were ground into shrimp paste—add some salt, ferment it in a jar, then steam it or stew it with tofu. The brains would be cooked and stored in a lunchbox out on the windowsill, to be saved for New Year.

“So good. These shrimp are delicious,” Mr. Wang’s youngest daughter said, still savoring the taste.

Her mom shot her a look. “Delicious or not, that’s all you get. If you’ve got homework, go do it. If not, go to bed.”

She had wanted to say something earlier when her husband handed out the shrimp—who treats shrimp like a snack?

But the kids hadn’t had meat in a while, so she held her tongue.

(End of Chapter)