The Game of Life TGOL

Chapter 311: Chapter 310: I’m Sorry for Making You Worry

Soon, it was Jiang Feng’s turn for the special interview.

Owing to Jiang Yong’s departure to the teahouse for a father-son conversation with Jiang Weiming, the one accompanying Wu Minqi this time was Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang.

Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang found it strange why Jiang Yong dropped off Zhang Guanghang and then disappeared, only sending a WeChat message that he had something urgent and would leave temporarily before going silent.

Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang sent several messages to Jiang Yong without reply, which made him somewhat worried that something unexpected might have happened to Jiang Yong.

Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang led Jiang Feng to the door of the private room.

The locations of Xu Cheng’s interviews were always quirky, the kitchen, his home, pavilions, backyards, observatories, private rooms, halls, and sometimes even on the street, strolling and asking questions, deciding on the spot and just going with the flow.

The private room was already an exception as it was a relatively normal place for the interview.

Jiang Feng pushed the door open and entered, while Deputy Editor-in-Chief Wang stayed at the door, turning around to organize the recordings of Wu Minqi’s interview in the adjacent room after Jiang Feng had gone in.

Upon entering the private room, Jiang found Xu Cheng, who had just finished speaking at length and was now drinking tea. Beside Xu Cheng, there was a young girl with her head down, her bangs covering her face making it hard to see clearly, writing something in her notebook.

Jiang felt that this young girl looked familiar, though her face wasn’t clear. The way she sat with her head down, her face hidden by her bangs, was very recognizable.

How did the saying go? This young lady seems so familiar, as if an old acquaintance.

Chen Xiuxiu looked up.

“Xiuxiu?” Jiang Feng couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

What was Chen Xiuxiu doing here? Shouldn’t she be in Magic City now?

Back in July, Jiang Feng heard from Mrs. Wang Xiulian that Chen Xiuxiu secured an internship at a decent company in Magic City, and Chen Duxiu even boasted about it on his social circle.

“Long time no see,” Xiuxiu said, continuing to write in her notebook.

“Do you know each other?” Xu Cheng’s interest was piqued.

“She’s/He’s my neighbor,” Jiang Feng and Chen Xiuxiu said simultaneously.

“A neighbor for over a decade,” Jiang Feng added.

Xu Cheng was taken aback for a moment but quickly accepted this coincidence, “Well, that’s quite the coincidence. Master Jiang, don’t just stand there, please have a seat.”

Xu Cheng’s interviews never included outsiders; even the chief and deputy editors of “Taste” had to stay in the next room. Chen Xiuxiu’s presence here was mainly to see how much potential she had to become an outstanding food critic.

To become an excellent food critic, having a sensitive palate wasn’t enough. She needed to know how to taste and to appreciate. It wasn’t just about spotting the virtues of a dish; she also had to identify its flaws. Where it excelled, where it fell short, what ingredients, and what cooking methods were used.

This was something talent alone could not fulfill; it required layers upon layers of culinary experiences, which meant time. Plainly put, it needed money; splurging on food over a long period.

Taste is cultivated with money. Only by experiencing the best can one discern where others fall short.

Xu Cheng informed Chen Xiuxiu about who made each dish at lunch today, asking her to stay and observe how he conducted the interview, and then to ask questions.

Xu Cheng didn’t expect Chen Xiuxiu to ask very high-level questions; he was more like a tutor who needed to understand the student’s progress before determining how to guide.

Chen Xiuxiu’s capability surprised him.

The questions she asked were professional and insightful, pointing out the faults in the dishes prepared by Zhang Guanghang and Wu Minqi with precision. Her discernment and taste level were exceptionally high.

This wasn’t something you would expect from a girl of ordinary family background. Initially, Xu Cheng thought it was because one of her parents was a great cook, which is why she developed such a refined palate and taste buds.

But now it seemed that all this might be attributed to Jiang Jiankang.

“Since everyone is acquainted, there’s no need for introductions. Chen Xiuxiu is an intern at ‘Taste.’ Since you two have known each other for many years, let’s have Xiuxiu start with the questions,” Xu Cheng said, noticing that Jiang was somewhat nervous, so he allowed Xiuxiu, someone familiar to Jiang, to ask the first questions.

Over the past month, following Jiang Yong around for meals and occasional interviews, Xiuxiu had started to look a bit like a reporter herself, sitting straight with poise, flipping her notebook to a fresh blank page, and placing her pen in the middle of the open notebook.

“You, like Wu Minqi and Zhang Guanghang, started learning from a young age, but unlike them, you gave it up halfway. Why did you suddenly pick it up again after quitting?” Chen Xiuxiu asked.

Jiang Feng: …

We’re all good friends here; I know how many bowls of rice you used to eat. Is it really necessary to start with such a provocative question?

“Don’t be nervous, and don’t rush, you can answer slowly,” said Xu Cheng. “If there are some questions you don’t want to answer, there’s no need to force it.”

Jiang Feng thought for a moment, organized his thoughts, and spoke slowly: “Because of you.”

“Huh?” Chen Xiuxiu was stunned.

“Do you remember what you looked like last summer vacation?” asked Jiang Feng.

Chen Xiuxiu thought for a moment: “120 pounds, a bit overweight.”

Jiang Feng: …

“I’m not talking about weight, but your condition. I almost didn’t recognize you that day when you and Mr. Chen were eating at my family’s restaurant, not just because you had lost weight,” Jiang Feng said. “Haven’t you noticed? At that time, you had the look of illness on your face.”

“A look of illness?” Chen Xiuxiu was stunned again, back then she had been in the midst of her craziest dieting period, starting from eating two meals a day to one meal a day plus some fruit, later it became just fruit, and ultimately, just a bowl of porridge.

At that time, all she cared about were the numbers on the scale decreasing, she had no appetite, didn’t want to eat anything, and even when starving and stomach aching, she had no desire to eat. She had no energy, didn’t want to walk, was always pale, the color of her lips turned white, and at night she often experienced ringing in her ears, mental fatigue, and looking like a female ghost with disheveled hair, wearing pajamas.

But Chen Xiuxiu thought all of that was normal, since how could anyone have energy without eating, and stomach aches from irregular meals over a long period were also normal. To her, anything was worth it as long as she could lose weight.

She had experienced being overweight and did not want to go back to that time, she had too much pent-up negative emotion with no outlet, those negative emotions nearly engulfed her. She could only continue to starve herself, as hunger was the only thing that reminded her that she was overweight.

Lately, she resumed a normal diet and realized her previous behavior was akin to suicide. She began to exercise, channeling her negative emotions through extensive workouts at the gym each day.

Her life gradually improved, she was able to fit into dress sizes that she could not have imagined before.

She confessed her feelings to the boy she liked and succeeded.

She joined a renowned magazine as an intern, surprisingly favored by the editor-in-chief.

Chen Xiuxiu believed that all of this was brought on by her dieting, even if her stomach problems persisted and despite having severely damaged her own body, she had no regrets.

Given another choice, she would rather be a listless skinny person than a lively, happy overweight one.

“Perhaps a little,” said Chen Xiuxiu.

“At the time, we were all very worried about you,” said Jiang Feng. “Mr. Chen was worried about you, my parents were worried about you, I was worried about you too. Although you had lost a lot of weight, you seemed utterly lifeless, with a world-weary expression, Mr. Chen even worried you might jump out of a window in a moment of despair and so he locked your windows tightly.”

“The day after you ate at my family’s restaurant, I overheard my mom saying to my dad that even though you were thinner, you didn’t look as good as before, the vitality was gone,” Jiang Feng continued. “We were all very worried about you, just in different ways. Mr. Chen took you to eat at our restaurant, my dad cooked your favorite Nine Turns Intestine for you, my mom sent Mr. Chen some pickles, hoping you’d at least drink more porridge, even just a few more bowls.”

“That jar of pickles was from Mrs. Wang…” Chen Xiuxiu was stunned again.

She had thought that jar of pickles was bought by Chen Duxiu, especially since at that time Chen Duxiu had been nagging her incessantly to eat more, so, irritated and in a rage, she threw the jar away.

How could she have done such a thing?

She remembered now, due to excessive dieting and prolonged hunger, her temper had become very volatile. Her father had only been home for just over a week, and they had fought more than a dozen times, her negative emotions, which she dared not vent at outsiders, could only be taken out on her own family.

“I decided to start practicing my cooking skills again because at that time I was wondering if it was because the porridge I made was too bad that you didn’t want to drink it. I began to research Cooking Porridge, and you know what happened after that, my grandfather came, and by a twist of fate, naturally, I started learning to cook again,” said Jiang Feng.

Thinking about it now, the first pot of porridge I made was indeed hard to swallow; I really put Chen Xiuxiu through a lot.

Chen Xiuxiu was silent.

“Thank you, I’m sorry for making you all worry.”

Xu Cheng: ???

Even though I’m the one who is supposed to conduct an interview with Jiang Feng, why can’t I get a word in?

Isn’t this supposed to be my show???

.

PS:

The weather is too hot, everything feels lifeless, including the novel I’m writing.

Due to the inability to leave comments on the 5th and 6th, sending blessings to Da Hua can only start from the 7th, please remember to send blessings to Da Hua on the 7th~