Chapter 88: Not a Single Bite

Laicai and Laifang happily left carrying the jars, but before long, they returned in tears.

“What’s wrong?”

Zhou Yimin was confused.

The old lady took one look and immediately understood—the canned yellow peaches had been confiscated.

Parents confiscating their kids’ things? That’s totally normal. If it were just a couple of candies, that might’ve slid. But you came home holding half a jar of canned peaches—of course it got taken away.

Who eats canned peaches straight out of the jar like that?

Not to mention the countryside—even in the city, that would be considered a bit extravagant, wouldn’t it?

Sniffling, Laifang complained to Zhou Yimin that she didn’t even get a single bite before her mom took it away.

Sure enough, when their mother saw the two kids walk in with two half-jars of canned peaches, she knew it had to be from Yimin. Only he treated her kids so well.

Seeing that there was still so much left, she took them right away, combined them into a full jar, and sealed it up.

“Not even a single bite?”

Zhou Yimin couldn’t help but laugh.

See what happens when you don’t eat right away? Now you’ve felt the cruelty of society, huh?

The old lady, as if expecting this outcome, had deliberately saved two pieces in a bowl and said, “There are two pieces in the bowl—one each.”

Laicai and Laifang rushed to eat them, afraid their mother might show up again.

“Laicai, after you’re done, go light the fire,” Zhou Yimin called.

Today, he was planning to make a big iron pot stew with goose.

Laicai knew his big brother was making something delicious again. He nodded excitedly, wolfed down the peach slice, and hurried into the kitchen to start the fire like a pro.

Zhou Yimin followed shortly after.

Grandma wanted to come too, but he told her to just stay in the living room and enjoy the radio.

The goose weighed 10 jin, and that was net weight—it would be enough for a full pot of stew.

He chopped the goose into small pieces, washed the pot, added water and the goose chunks to blanch them. Once blanched, he scooped the pieces out and placed them in a basin.

Next, he poured oil into the pot, added spices and stir-fried them till fragrant, then tossed in the blanched goose pieces to fry. When the skin turned slightly golden, he added soy sauce and other seasonings, poured in water until it covered the meat well, and covered the pot with a lid.

Then he grabbed some potatoes to wash—this time, not peeling them. Last time, Third Aunt had watched him peel potatoes with visible restraint, and eventually collected all the peels. No idea what she did with them.

He cut the washed potatoes into chunks and set them aside.

No need to add them yet—he’d wait till the goose meat was nearly done before tossing them in to stew for a bit. Then it would be ready to eat.

“Big Bro, this goose looks super tasty just by the smell,” Laicai said as he saw Zhou Yimin lift the lid and toss in more ingredients. He couldn’t help staring, even sniffing the air a little.

But Zhou Yimin asked him, “You’re going to school next year too, right?”

Laicai nodded. “My mom said I’ll be eating lunch at school next year.”

But he didn’t want to. Eating with his big brother was way better—there wasn’t even any meat at school. Laicai knew this well. He’d seen what his biological brother ate at school—it didn’t compare at all to what he was eating now.

So he told his mom he didn’t want to go to school, and she beat him. Only then did he behave.

Zhou Yimin laughed.

You’re going to school just for the food? Isn’t it supposed to be for studying?

“Alright, just keep the fire going—you don’t need a big flame,” Zhou Yimin instructed.

He still needed to check how the doors and furniture were coming along.

As for windows, he planned to get some glass and make proper glass windows—not just for his house, but also for the school.

Carrying two cans of yellow peaches, Zhou Yimin headed to the village carpenter’s place.

At this time, carpenters still used very traditional tools: wood planes, saws, rulers, ink markers, chisels, and drills. Among the saws, there were large saws, double-man saws, opening saws, and hand saws. For wood planes, there were seam planes, flat planes, secondary planes, and finishing planes.

Strictly speaking, this carpenter was also one of Zhou Yimin’s old buddies—around fifty years old, a generation older.

“Sixteenth brother is here,” the carpenter’s wife greeted in surprise.

Zhou Yimin handed her the two cans of peaches. “Here, give the kids a treat.”

He wasn’t quite sure how to address her—‘sister-in-law’ felt weird since she was old enough to be a grandmother.

“Thanks, Sixteenth brother.”

She wasn’t planning to open them right away. She’d keep them and give them to her youngest son to use as a gift during marriage proposals—it looked impressive.

She had five sons in total. The youngest was only a few years older than Zhou Yimin and still unmarried.

Mainly because the family was poor. Marrying off the first four sons had nearly drained the family dry.

If her husband didn’t have some carpentry skills, she honestly had no idea how they would’ve raised five sons and married them off.

Now the house was crowded and noisy—grandkids alone numbered over ten. The pressure was immense. Just putting food on the table was already a headache.

Thankfully, Sixteenth brother restarted the school and arranged meals there, which greatly reduced the burden. Her family sent six kids to school all at once.

So their whole family was deeply grateful to Zhou Yimin.

They didn’t even plan to charge him for the doors, windows, or furniture this time.

When Zhou Yimin entered, he saw an old man hard at work—his “old buddy,” Zhou Zhixiong.

“Sixteenth brother, take a seat. Let me finish this piece first,” Zhou Zhixiong greeted him.

“Take your time, Zhixiong-ge, no rush.”

There were four children in the house. One couldn’t even walk yet, still wrapped in a blanket. The other three wore crotchless pants and shouted at him, “Sixteenth Grandpa!”

They’d all had their share of Zhou Yimin’s little snacks before.

He pulled out a handful of White Rabbit candies from his pocket and handed them out—two for each kid, including the one in the swaddle.

The rest, he gave to the old lady.

He knew those four weren’t her only grandkids.

If Zhou Yimin hadn’t been there, she might’ve taken one piece back from each kid—what kind of kid gets to eat two candies a day, after all?

Zhou Yimin inspected Zhou Zhixiong’s work and saw he hardly used nails—instead, he used mortise and tenon joinery.

Mortise and tenon is a traditional woodworking technique used to join pieces of wood. The tenon is the protruding part, and the mortise is the recessed part. Together, they fit tightly and can be even stronger than nails.

The clever combinations of more and less, high and low, long and short pieces could limit twisting in any direction.

In the twist and lock of each mortise and tenon lay the essence of thousands of years of traditional Chinese furniture craftsmanship.

In ancient China, mortise and tenon was widely used in architecture and furniture alike, reflecting the close relationship between the two.

You could say it’s a hallmark of Chinese traditional craft.

Yet somehow, in modern times, a certain thieving country managed to steal it and even got it successfully listed as intangible cultural heritage.

Zhou Yimin seriously wondered if the heritage committee had rocks for brains—maybe they were bribed? How else could something like that pass without any investigation?

(End of Chapter)