Chapter 288: Abalone Stewed Chicken

The bicycle was loaded with bundles big and small, but that didn’t slow Zhou Yimin down on his way home.

As soon as he returned to Zhoujiazhuang, the villagers quickly noticed his arrival.

The old village secretary, having heard the news, came over. From a distance, he saw Zhou Yimin just entering the village and began walking toward him.

“Yimin, back from your business trip?”

Zhou Yimin’s grandfather had already spread word of his trip, though he hadn’t mentioned the destination, sparking admiration among the village’s younger crowd.

Zhou Dafu and Zhou Dazhong knew the details, but since Sixteenth Uncle hadn’t said anything, they naturally kept quiet.

“Yeah! Just in time to run into you, old secretary. I brought back some local specialties so the villagers can all have a taste,” Zhou Yimin said.

Then he pulled several dried fish from the bike and handed them over. These weren’t small—each one weighed three or four jin.

“And these, take them to improve the kids’ meals a bit,” Zhou Yimin added.

He wasn’t about to make a special trip to the school to deliver them, and since someone was conveniently nearby to help, he had no reason not to hand it off.

The old secretary was used to Zhou Yimin’s generosity and wasn’t all that surprised anymore. This batch of dried fish weighed at least thirty to fifty jin. Still, he was sincerely grateful. “Yimin, on behalf of the village, thank you.”

“No need! I’m part of Zhoujiazhuang too,” Zhou Yimin said casually.

“I’m heading back to check on Grandpa and Grandma, so I’ll be off now,” he added.

With that, he hopped back on his bicycle and rode away, leaving the old secretary with a stack of dried fish in hand.

The onlookers around him stared, eyes fixed on the fish.

Just then, someone suggested, “Old secretary, how about we stew these dried fish tonight and add a little something to dinner?”

Though the food in Zhoujiazhuang was already decent, who would complain about extra meat?

“Go on, go on. These dried fish are meant to be saved,” the old secretary waved his hand.

If it had been fresh meat, which doesn’t keep long, they might’ve cooked it right away to avoid waste. But dried fish lasts a long time—it was better to save it for a more important festival.

The others fell silent upon hearing that.

Not long after, Zhou Yimin arrived home.

The old man, spotting him, quickly came out to greet him. “My eldest grandson, back from your trip?”

“Yes! I got back last night. This morning I reported to the factory, then came straight home,” Zhou Yimin replied.

He didn’t mention the fact that he’d invented a new safety belt—he wasn’t one to seek the limelight. Otherwise, he could have broadcast the news far and wide.

Being too high-profile wasn’t good. If nothing else, spies and enemies might take notice. That would be like playing with his life.

Zhou Yimin unloaded the items from the bike’s rear rack. The old man offered to help, but Zhou Yimin declined, saying he could manage it alone.

Inside the house, they found Third Aunt with Qianqian and Laifu, who had come over to help tidy up.

“Yimin’s back,” Third Aunt greeted.

“Yes, Third Aunt,” Zhou Yimin replied.

He patted his hands clean, took Qianqian from Laifu, and asked with a smile, “Qianqian, did you miss your big brother?”

Qianqian waved her chubby little hands and let out soft “Ee-ee” sounds.

“Third Aunt, soak these abalone for a bit. Let’s make abalone stewed chicken tonight. Call Third Uncle over to eat too,” Zhou Yimin said.

Before coming home, he had picked up so much seafood that he couldn’t possibly finish it all by himself. Of course, he had to share it with everyone.

Third Aunt looked toward the old man. As long as he didn’t object, she wouldn’t dare take the lead.

“Didn’t you hear what my eldest grandson just said? Go on now,” the old man instructed.

With the old man’s approval, Third Aunt raised her voice. “Laifu! Go call your dad over for dinner!”

Even if Laifu didn’t feel like going, he had no choice. If he didn’t obey, he’d be facing a good whipping and pork stew for his backside—probably enough to blister it.

He ran off quickly, hoping to be back soon.

Zhou Yimin put down Qianqian, then pulled a dozen abalone from the burlap sack. Each one was huge. By future standards, they would qualify as two-head abalone.

The “head count” of abalone refers to how many abalone make up one jin. The fewer per jin, the larger and more expensive they are.

For example, a “three-head abalone” means three abalone per jin, and “six-head” means six per jin.

Two-head abalone are extremely rare and known as top-tier delicacies. There’s even a saying: “Not even a thousand gold pieces can buy two-head abalone.”

Grandma looked distressed. “My dear grandson, no need to cook so many. We won’t be able to finish them.”

In the past, only high-ranking officials could afford abalone. Ordinary folk wouldn’t even dream of such a treat. Making so many at once must have cost a fortune.

“Don’t worry, Grandma. I’ve got a big appetite. I’ll definitely finish it,” Zhou Yimin said with a grin.

Seeing his determination, Grandma gave up on persuading him.

Third Aunt took the abalone and whispered, “Yimin, I don’t know how to prepare these.”

She blushed a little—such rare ingredients weren’t just something she’d never eaten before. She’d never even seen them.

Zhou Yimin said, “Alright then, I’ll guide you, and you do the hands-on work.”

“Okay,” Third Aunt nodded, agreeing that this was the only way.

Under Zhou Yimin’s guidance, they quickly cleaned and prepped the abalone, then slaughtered a chicken with practiced ease. Thankfully, it wasn’t a hen, or Third Aunt would have been heartbroken for days.

Grandma had slowly gotten used to this kind of thing.

In these times, hens were precious—they laid eggs, which could be traded for other goods.

As the chicken started to stew, its delicious aroma began to fill the room. Once the chicken was nearly done, they added the cleaned abalone.

Just as Third Uncle Zhou Xuqing stepped inside, he asked, “What delicious dish are you cooking? It smells amazing.”

“Abalone stewed chicken,” the old man answered, though he sounded slightly pained.

Hearing that, Third Uncle swallowed hard, eyes locked on the kitchen. He hadn’t been particularly hungry before, but suddenly, his stomach was growling.

After about another half hour of stewing, the abalone chicken was finally ready.

Everyone stared at the dish on the table. But no one dared pick up their chopsticks until the old man spoke.

“Eat,” he said.

Only then did the others move. Laifu, having already been drooling, grabbed an abalone at lightning speed. He didn’t even care if it was hot—he shoved it in and chewed eagerly, mumbling, “Delicious.”

Lai Cai wasn’t far behind, afraid all the abalone would be gone if he hesitated.

After Laifang ate one, she reached out for another, only for Third Aunt’s chopsticks to swat her hand. “You only get one,” she said.

The little girl looked pitifully at Zhou Yimin, hoping her big brother would speak up for justice.

(End of chapter)