Uncle Chen gave her a meaningful, sideways look, his face heavy with unspoken worry. "In their eyes, cost equals loss. They aren't looking at the original purchase price from years ago. I heard through the grapevine that the company has a newcomer, a young hotshot working with your father on a big government contract. That newcomer is planning to sell that same batch of tempered glass at a massively inflated price to the government project, pocketing a huge personal commission. Your father getting the glass at cost ruined that scheme."
So in her previous life, Jing's Dad, who hadn't blocked anyone's illicit profit, had been left alone and fine. In this life, because Jing Shu had specifically requested that very tempered glass, had it triggered a butterfly effect, uncovering and interfering with a corrupt deal?
Uncle Chen exhaled a slow, tired smoke ring, the gray cloud hanging in the air between them. "Look, the best possible outcome now is to let them get that extra profit from the tempered glass and settle the matter quietly. After all, being forced to refund the share value is a temporary blow, but keeping your job and future dividends is long term. Go persuade your father to admit to a small procedural mistake, to give them a face saving way out. President Wang still has some old affection for him. He might protect him if he shows humility."
It was truly a case of accidental luck, Jing Shu realized. She'd originally been wondering how to logically get her father to withdraw his shares from the company without causing suspicion. After all, Jing's Dad had been invested and working there for more than twenty years, it was his life's work. Unexpectedly, fate had arranged for him to be expelled from the company and get a lump sum payout, which was perfect, more money to buy supplies with.
"Okay," Jing Shu said, trying to make her voice sound sad and concerned, careful not to let even a hint of a triumphant smile slip out. She might just be the world's most perfect fake filial daughter in this moment.
After finishing the day's tasks at the villa, Jing Shu returned home early. She decided to prepare a lavish shrimp feast to comfort Jing's Dad's wounded pride and lift the gloomy atmosphere.
She took out more than a hundred large, vibrant shrimp, each over 8 centimeters long, from the Cube Space's aquatic section and transferred them into a clean, 1 cubic meter independent space she used for food prep. Using her absolute control over anything within the Cube Space, Jing Shu willed the process.
The shrimp were quickly cleaned, their heads separated, and their backs sliced open to remove the dark veins. She peeled some shrimp for certain dishes, marinated others in a mix of cooking wine, soy sauce, and salt, and prepared all the auxiliary ingredients with a thought, scallions cut into delicate flowers, ginger sliced into fine strips, and cloves of garlic smashed.
In the real world, cleaning and deveining that many shrimp would take at least an hour or two of tedious work. Inside the Cube Space, with her mental command, Jing Shu finished the entire preparation in five neat minutes.
Back in her family kitchen, she set to work. She cooked a large pot of fragrant white rice porridge. She fried the reserved shrimp heads in oil to make a rich, red shrimp oil, then sautéed a batch of the whole shrimp in that flavorful oil with seasonings. At the same time, in another pan, she stir fried minced garlic until golden and fragrant. She brushed oil on a baking tray, skewered another batch of shrimp, sprinkled the toasted garlic over them, and slid the tray into the oven to bake for ten minutes.
After frying the first batch of shrimp, she removed them from the pan. Then she sautéed ginger and more garlic, added a generous amount of ketchup to make a glossy red oil, put the fried shrimp back in with more seasonings, brought it to a boil on high heat, then covered and let it simmer on low. After two minutes, she added segments of scallion and turned the heat back up to reduce the sauce into a thick, sticky glaze. Jing Shu tasted it with a spoon, nodded in satisfaction, and plated the beautiful, glistening oil braised shrimp.
For the simple boiled shrimp, she brought a pot of water to a rolling boil with slices of ginger and knotted scallions, cooked the fresh shrimp for just one minute until they curled and turned pink, then plated them quickly with small bowls of soy sauce and vinegar dipping sauces.
The remaining marinated shrimp were coated in a dusting of starch, dipped in beaten egg, and rolled in fine breadcrumbs, then fried in a shallow pan of oil on low heat until they were a perfect, golden brown. She plated these as crispy fried shrimp, the coating light and shatteringly crisp.
Six fresh eggs from the Cube Space were beaten with water and a pinch of salt, mixed with the peeled shrimp, poured into a dish, wrapped in plastic wrap, and steamed until just set. Once done, she drizzled it with a little fish flavored soy sauce and a few drops of sesame oil to make a silky, tender steamed egg with shrimp.
The oven timer beeped. Jing Shu put on mitts and took out the final dish, the garlic baked shrimp, the aroma of garlic and roasting shells filling the kitchen. She set the hot tray on a trivet on the already crowded table. Her shrimp porridge, rich and fragrant, would be ready to serve in individual bowls once her parents came back, finished with a sprinkle of fresh scallions.
Jing's Dad opened the front door and immediately smelled the complex, mouthwatering aroma filling the house, the scent of baked shrimp, fried shrimp, and rich seafood broth. Jing Shu peeked out from the kitchen with a little sauce on her lips, looking pleased. "I cooked," she announced.
But Jing's Dad wasn't alone. Three other people followed closely behind him into the apartment.
"Wow, I knew it wouldn't be Aunt Su cooking. Smells way too good." Sun Zijian, Uncle Sun's son, with a face still full of teenage acne, led a girl in a super short skirt and a fake leather coat inside without even removing his shoes.
"Sun Zijian?" Jing Shu exclaimed, caught completely off guard. At this moment, Sun Zijian was tall and heavyset, filled with a cocky, youthful swagger, utterly unlike the gaunt, skin and bone figure hollowed by desperation he would've become ten years later.
"Jing Shu, this is my girlfriend, Xiao Cao," Sun Zijian said, as if doing her a favor by introducing her. "Dad said he would've made up for my birthday and take us out to eat something good." As he spoke, he grabbed a piece of crispy fried shrimp from the nearest plate and stuffed it into his mouth. "Damn, this is so damn good! Dad," he yelled over his shoulder, his mouth full, "let's just eat at Uncle Jing's place. This is better than any restaurant."
Jing Shu clenched her fists behind her back, closed her eyes for a brief second, and tried to stay calm. If she started a fight with Sun Zijian here and now, Jing's Dad would've been put in a terribly passive position, giving them more reason to play the victim and further delay repaying the debt. She had to swallow her fury.
"Fine, fine. We will eat wherever you say." Ten years ago, Uncle Sun was still fair skinned and plump, with a standard issue beer belly, a clear contrast to Jing's Dad, who kept himself fit with regular exercise.
"Hello, sister," Xiao Cao said in a high pitched, cutesy voice that made Jing Shu's skin crawl. She held Sun Zijian's arm with both of her hands, swaying slightly on her heels, showing a timid, doe eyed expression, as if only Sun Zijian's presence could make her feel safe in this unfamiliar apartment.
Sun Zijian visibly enjoyed that display of dependency very much.
"Then let's eat. How's this shrimp so delicious?" Sun Zijian had already picked up a whole skewer of garlic baked shrimp, calling for Xiao Cao to sit and act like it was her own home. He behaved with the entitled ease of someone who was the host, not a guest.
"My mom isn't back yet!" Jing Shu said, the disgust rising in her throat. Her carefully prepared, therapeutic meal was being devoured by these unrefined, ungrateful people, and her small universe was about to explode. She had to hold back, she repeated to herself like a mantra.
Jing's Dad, ever the polite host even in his distress, invited Uncle Sun to sit at the head of the table. "Your mother worked late tonight," he said to Jing Shu with a sigh. "Don't wait for her. We can start."
"I'll save a portion for her," Jing Shu insisted. She grabbed the large pot of shrimp porridge, starting to carefully serve a generous bowl into a separate container for her mother while telling herself over and over to stay calm.
"Hey, hey, there wasn't much to begin with," Sun Zijian complained, reaching out to tug on her arm. "If you take more, there'll be none left for us. Aunt Su can't eat this much anyway." Jing Shu turned a fierce glare on him, and he actually retreated a step, mumbling, "It's just for my birthday, right? Can you not be more accommodating?"
In her previous life, this ungrateful father and son had conspired with her aunt to betray them. Jing Shu wanted to beat them up immediately, to throw them out of her home. But she didn't bother to act friendly anymore either. The coldness was plain on her face.
Each person eventually received a large bowl of the fragrant, steaming shrimp porridge. Everyone at the table, driven by the incredible aroma, began devouring the juicy shrimp and savory rice at lightning speed. Jing Shu was the fastest, her movements efficient. She took a shrimp from the central plate, tore it gently with her hands, put the meat into her mouth, ate a spoonful of the silky shrimp steamed egg, bit into a crispy fried shrimp tail, all while preparing another shrimp with her other hand.
Even the supposedly delicate Xiao Cao abandoned all pretenses of lady like manners, focusing only on picking the plump shrimp pieces from the steamed egg custard. Sun Zijian peeled shrimp with his hands covered in red oil, getting frustrated with the shells, and finally just scooped the remaining steamed egg with a large spoon, finishing both the egg and the embedded shrimp in two huge mouthfuls.
Jing's Dad wanted to bring up the topic of the repayment, but he was also weighed down by the company threatening to force him to settle overdue payments for the glass. With the very real possibility of being fired hanging over him, his mood was frozen below zero, and he ate in heavy silence.
"Burp. Dad, bring some of this home for Mom." Sun Zijian, having devoured three full bowls of shrimp porridge, finally leaned back, patting his distended stomach.
He was even packing leftovers from someone else's house to take home. Jing Shu could only inwardly marvel at his sheer, unmitigated audacity.
Jing's Dad, now thoroughly obsessed with the missing money and his job crisis, ignored Sun Zijian's request. In the past, out of generosity and a sense of family, he would've willingly packed a container for them.
"You'll have to ask Jing Shu about that," Uncle Sun said, his face messy with oil around his mouth. He'd never tasted shrimp so fresh and sweet, especially in that porridge. He clearly wanted more.
"Jing Shu, be a good girl and set aside a portion for my mom," Sun Zijian said, his tone a lazy, teasing order.
"Aunt Wang will surely enjoy such delicious food," Xiao Cao added in her shy, simpering voice, playing along.
In their previous life, this was always how it had been. Because Jing's Dad and Jing's Mom had treated them as true family, they'd truly acted like it, taking and taking without thought. And Jing's Dad, always remembering the old favor, had been grateful for their presence and never thought this dynamic was wrong.
"My mom's even more eager to eat a meal I cooked myself," Jing Shu stated flatly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "This is my homework for her. No sharing."
Sun Zijian grumbled under his breath, "First time at someone else's house and you can't even get enough to eat. Whatever. Xiao Cao, let's go eat some barbecue instead. I'm still hungry."
"Okay, Brother Zijian," Xiao Cao chirped, clinging to his arm. "I'm still hungry too."
===
I suddenly felt so stupid for the past two days. You know that feeling when your brain just lags behind, but your body feels… somewhat fine?
Because of the last cosmic event, I started feeling suspicious. And yes, when I checked, a lunar eclipse was happening again—or more precisely, a total lunar eclipse on September 8. I was left completely speechless =_=. My Yin constitution really feels the effects of these things.
At least this time it's not as bad as a while ago, when multiple cosmic events happened simultaneously over a long period. That was rough…