Zhang Xianglian suddenly felt dizzy; if Jiang Sheng hadn't been supporting her, she would have collapsed to the ground.
Why are there so many more people? We don't have enough braised pork knuckles, steamed buns, or even enough bowls and chopsticks.
"Don't worry about them, they have their own places to eat," Jiang Jizu waved to his men.
The guards were a little disappointed, but they still turned around as instructed.
"Wait a minute." Zhang Xianglian picked up the shovel from the ground. "Since you helped Xiao Mo, you are our benefactor. How can we not feed you properly? Don't leave, stay and eat."
Feeding six pigs is the same as feeding sixteen pigs.
That noon, Zhang Xianglian bought almost the entire pork stall. The head chef who taught apprentices at Youranju also came to help, and with the help of the two Wang siblings, they finally managed to cook two tables of food.
A medium-sized table was set up in the main hall, where several hosts of the family, Jiang Jizu, and the head chef who was accompanying the guests sat.
The largest table was set up in the courtyard, where eight Jiangs and four guards sat, along with the Wang siblings.
The tender and juicy braised pork knuckle goes without saying, but the stewed chicken with dried green beans and small pancakes, stir-fried meat and stir-fried vegetables are a dazzling array, even more sumptuous than the New Year's Eve dinner.
The chefs who came to help were shocked and asked several times, "Sister Lian, who is this person? Why make such a fuss?"
“He’s the one who helped Xiao Mo.” Zhang Xianglian said without turning her head. “Jiang Sheng said she wanted to thank him.”
Thank you as much as you want, but you can just eat at Youranju. Why bother making so many dishes?
The head chef worked diligently, helping with frying, stir-frying, cooking, and serving dishes.
It wasn't until he sat down that he realized the bearded man looked vaguely familiar, as if he'd seen him somewhere before.
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