Chapter 142: Birthday Gift

Li Youde stood in for Zhou Yimin to welcome Master Quan. They were fairly well acquainted—after all, they lived in neighboring yards.

Naturally, Master Quan also went inside to offer a few auspicious words to the elderly birthday lady.

Don’t underestimate a cook’s eloquence. Being good with people isn’t just about their culinary skills—a lot of it comes down to their way with words. That type like Sha Zhu from that one drama, who always insulted and offended people, was definitely the minority.

Master Quan was very good at complimenting people. He knew how to hit the mark. He didn’t praise the old lady directly, but kept praising Zhou Yimin—how capable he was, what he was like as a child, and so on.

As expected, the old lady was grinning from ear to ear.

She loved hearing people praise her grandson the most.

“Auntie, from now on you can just sit back and enjoy life. With Yimin’s abilities, he’ll at least become a state official someday.” After finishing his flattery, Master Quan glanced at the time and continued, “Oh! It’s getting late. You all chat, I’ll go whip up a simple meal.”

“Alright, Master Quan, sorry to trouble you.”

“Uncle, don’t say that. This is my line of work. All part of serving the people,” Master Quan said to Zhou Yimin’s grandfather.

Then, he went out to start preparing the lunch.

This midday meal was going to be more casual—the real feast would be in the evening. Some dishes needed time to marinate or stew.

Besides the two kitchen assistants, there were also other villagers available for him to direct, which made his work a lot easier. He could even sip tea from his mug now and then.

Master Quan suddenly realized that today’s banquet wasn’t as hectic as he had imagined.

Mainly because the villagers were helping out, which reduced at least thirty percent of the chores. He wouldn’t mind taking on more gigs like this. To that end, he even showed off some knife skills in front of everyone.

Laicai watched from the side, feeling a little awed.

“Kiddo, stand back a bit. Can’t get too close!” Master Quan said to Laicai.

Luo Dapeng chuckled and said, “Master Quan, this kid is Yimin’s little brother. Yimin plans to have him learn cooking in the future. Let him sneak a peek at a few tricks.”

Yimin’s little brother?

Was that true?

He hadn’t heard about that!

Zhou Dazhong explained, “Not by blood, but closer than blood.”

Hearing that, Master Quan’s eyes lit up. A plan took shape in his heart. He bent down and asked Laicai, “Wanna learn?”

Laicai actually did want to learn. He answered loudly, “I do!”

“Good. When your big brother gets back, I’ll talk to him. Once you’re a bit older, you can learn from me.” Master Quan had been thinking of taking in a disciple anyway. And what better way to strengthen ties with Zhou Yimin?

If this kid was Yimin’s brother, all the better.

Not far away, Huang Lan heard this and quickly came over with Qianqian in her arms to thank Master Quan. But she didn’t give a definite answer—this was something Yimin had to approve.

Though she really did want her son to learn from Master Quan, who knew if Laicai’s older brother had already approached some other chef? If they’d made an agreement and she accepted Master Quan here, wouldn’t that put her nephew in a tight spot?

Besides, she could tell that Master Quan only offered because of Yimin’s face.

So in any case, nothing could be decided without Yimin. They had to wait for him to return.

So Laicai stood by Master Quan’s side, watching him cook.

Master Quan also spared a bit of attention to observe him. To his surprise, even though the kid was young, he really did seem to have a knack for cooking.

“Laicai, go wash your hands and help me shape the longevity buns,” Master Quan said.

Laicai was thrilled. He ran off to wash his hands and even blew his nose on purpose.

Once he got serious, he was pretty decent at mimicking the moves, which surprised Master Quan quite a bit.

From an outsider’s view, it looked like Master Quan really liked Laicai. That meant the kid had a promising future—at the very least, he could grow up to be a chef.

And being a chef was a good thing—chefs never starve, even in hard times.

“Laicai’s gonna make something of himself!” one of the village women said to Huang Lan.

“Yeah! If he learns from Master Quan, working in the city’s pretty much guaranteed.”

It was similar to Da Qiu’s path. He had also apprenticed under someone from the city and now basically lived there. Word was that Doctor Chen even helped him get a temp position in the steel factory infirmary.

If he did well, getting a permanent role was just a matter of time.

By then, Da Qiu would be considered a steel factory worker—without having to go into the workshop or endure hard labor. That’s the benefit of having a mentor—someone to show you the ropes.

Now Laicai seemed to be on the same track.

Only problem—Laicai was just a few years old!

That made the village youth feel a bit ashamed. They weren’t even ahead of a kid. Who could they complain to?

Huang Lan didn’t get cocky, though. She just said gratefully, “It’s all thanks to his big brother Yimin.”

No one argued with that.

Without Yimin, even if Laicai had the talent, Master Quan wouldn’t necessarily want to take him in. There were plenty of talented people in the world.

Everyone was envious. Why didn’t their sons have a big brother like that?

That would save them years of struggle.

The longevity buns they shaped looked a bit underfed at first, but Master Quan wasn’t worried. Once they were steamed, they would puff up and turn into big peach-shaped buns.

At that moment, Zhou Yimin arrived at Uncle Zhang’s house.

Uncle Zhang’s family was ready.

Zhang Yan, in particular, had put on a new outfit—her mother insisted. Since Yimin’s parents weren’t around, visiting his grandparents was like meeting the family. She had to look presentable.

They also brought a birthday gift for Yimin’s grandmother.

After all, no one shows up to a birthday empty-handed.

Zhang Jianshe already had one bicycle, and he borrowed another from a colleague. When his coworkers found out he was going to celebrate Old Zhou’s mother’s birthday, they all gave him small gifts to bring along.

What they gave were everyday necessities—nothing particularly valuable.

Giving gold, silver, antiques, or calligraphy like in ancient times would be inappropriate in this kind of environment. That kind of thing could bring trouble.

Even Zhang Jianshe’s wife only prepared a set of clothing as a birthday gift.

But the fabric was made of “Dacron.”

We all know “Dacron” is a type of synthetic fiber. It became popular internationally in the 1950s and was also called “Terylene” or “polyester.” It came in pure forms or blended with cotton or wool, commonly used for shirts.

Reportedly, in Guangdong, it was first known phonetically as “Di Que Liang” (meaning “really pretty”), which later morphed in the north into “Di Que Liang” (meaning “really cool”). Eventually, people realized it wasn’t that cool to wear, so the name shifted again to “Di Que Liang” (meaning “really good”).

The fabric’s quality spoke for itself.

Even though it didn’t absorb sweat or breathe well, it was crisp, smooth, easy to wash and quick to dry. Stronger than cotton, it held up to sitting, kicking, laying, and covering. One piece could outlast three.

At the time, “Di Que Liang” was rare on the market.

China still didn’t have the ability to produce synthetic fibers from petroleum—only imported polyester fibers could be used to make “Di Que Liang.”

If Zhou Yimin remembered correctly, it would still be another year or two before small-scale production trials began in cities like Beijing, Tianjin, and Shanghai.

Even then, the polyester fibers were made from imported chips, and most of the resulting products were used for export to earn foreign currency. Brands like Bingshan’s bleached Dacron and Tiantan’s shirts were examples.

Only a small amount of “Di Que Liang” fabric and ready-made garments were released to big-city markets or sold domestically through export channels. People would line up to buy them.

It wasn’t until the 1970s, when China resolved to make major investments in petrochemical equipment and develop a full industrial chain for synthetic fibers—factories like Jinshan Petrochemical in Shanghai were built—that high-end “Di Que Liang” goods began to spread.

As for Zhou Yimin, the gift he prepared for his grandmother was simple: a pair of cloth shoes.

He’d asked Grandma Xu to help make them.

Grandma Xu spent nearly a month crafting two pairs of cloth shoes, so naturally, the quality was top-notch.

(End of chapter)